HOW
53
Bwas sittlag la my cozy parlor, one
eveulng last mouth, when the door
opened and young Mrs. Hapless
came in. .We call her "young Mrs. Hap
less" because her husband's mother
lives In the village also. If I had not
been accustomed to her appearance 1
should have supposed 6onie dreadful
thing was the matter. She had on au
old calico wrapper which never was
pretty, but by frequent washing had
become faded and Btreaked; half the
buttons were gone, the sleeves and
waist In rags and the skirt torn. Her
hair was "done up" In a hairpin screw;
she wore no collar, and over her head
she had pinned a faded plaid shawl
which I had seen more than once doing
luty as an aprou while she washed
dishes.
She nodded to me without a smile,
and, sinking down on a chair, look
dismally round my pretty room. 1 w ..
used to her ways, so only said "GooU
evenlng." After a few moments she began in a
fretful voice to speak.
"Oh, Mrs. Sunny, how comfortable
you do lookl You never have any trou
bles, do you?"
A shiver ran through me as I thought
Vvhat my troubles had been, but I
knew the little woman had come to
pe?.k of herself, so I Just said, quietly:
"Doesn't every one? Don't you?"
"I? Oh, I am full of trouble! But
where Is your husband this evening?
He Is always at home."
"Oh, no, not always," I answered.
"This evening he has gone to a political
meeting, and there are other evenings
when he goes to two different lodges he
belongs to."
"But surely, Mrs. Sunny, you don't
like him to go to lodges? Why, I think
they are horrid! Nobody knows what
they do."
I laughed, she looked so tragic.
"Well," I said, "I don't want to
know, for I suppose I should not under
stand. I urged him to go to this politi
cal meeting because he wanted to."
"Urged blm to go! Well, I call that
queer! Why, I coaxed. John" John Is
her husband "to stay with me, and we
tiad a quarrel. I think a man ought to
And pleasure In his home sometimes,
but John goes out every evening; he
goes to his mother's often."
"You never accompany him?" 1
.asked.
"Oh, dear, no. I'm too tired. Why, 1
haven't been to see Mother Hapless for
a whole month. She's dreadfully smart
and has everything just so; it's Just
spoiled John. He seems to think every
, one ought to be like his mother; he
doesn't say much, but he Just looks
around so, and then goes clearing off a
chair to sit down. He hardly says any
thing but to ask If supper Is ready, and
then soon as It Is over, he puts on his
hat and I never see him tills bedtime,
and not then often, for I go to bed
'cause I'm lonesome."
I could not but pity the forlorn little
wife, left alone all the day and even
ing; but I knew that she made no home
for her husband, while at his mother's
be found everything bright, the house
orderly, and the still pretty mother
prettily dressed and only too glad to
have her boy with her. I had often
pitied his wife, even while I blamed
her. However, now that she herself
had broached the subject, 1 felt that I
might offer some advice and assistance,
so I said:
"Would you like me to help you to
keep your husband at home?"
She opened her big brown eyes as she
answered:
"Of course, I would. I often wonder
why Mr. Sunny seems to really enjoy
his home so much."
I proposed going over to her house,
and with a blush she consented, saying
wearily:
"It doesn't look like yours."
No, It did not, I acknowledged to my.
self as we entered the sitting room,
passing through the dining room on our
way, where the supper dishes were
spread on the table, Just as she had
dumped I can think of no more fitting
term them after, they were washed.
There was no table In the middle of
the sitting room, but on a small one In
a corner an oil lamp burned with a
one-sided flame, which partly smoked
the chimney. Every chair In the room
had something on it, for Mrs. Hapless
said she had been looking over her
"dresses and things." There was a lit
ter of scraps, spools, pincushions and
other paraphernalia for sewing on the
table, two fashion magazines, and a
paper pattern unfolded; the fire was
low and the room chilly. I suppose
the contrast to my own made It appear
more uninviting to me, and I could not
but wouder where John could have
eat.
I cleared part of an old dress off a
chair and sat down by the almost cold
utove; then I asked the poor little shift
less woman If I might tell her a story.
She looked as If she thought me crazy,
and said, hesitatingly:
"Yes."
"It Is the story of my own life," I be
E
gan. "I was the daughter of a man
who never could stay In oue place, so
we were always moving; if it was not
from oue town to another It was from
one house to another; therefore I grew
up with no sense of real homelike feel
ing. I married very young, and was
charmed to find that my husband not
only took me to a snug home, but also
that he owned the house and expected
to live In it, as he said, always.
"At first we were very happy; the
novelty of having a home of my own
gave to housekeeping a charm. I had a
neat tea table, flowers, plenty of light,
music and everything as in our court
ing days, and Henry seemed as pleased
to be with me as he had been before
we were married.
"As long as summer lasted all was
easy enough. We had agreed that we'd
keep no servant; a woman came every
day and did the rough work and I did
not mind the rest. But when winter
came I gradually left off using my best
things on the table; it was too much
trouble, and as my hands chapped easi
ly I left the dishes for the woman to
wash, and that meant to break; so I
bought common white ware. I saw
Henry make a wry face, but I took no
notice.
"I had kept the sitting room bright
with flowers, piy pin.no open and bocks
scattered about, for Henry often read
aloud; but the cold was intense, and I
had generally spent my winters South,
so I felt too miserable to care for any
of these things. Often I did not change
my dress, and after supper would wrap
myself In a shawl and go to sleep on
the sofa; then Henry would go out at
first I did not notice how often but
when I did I upbraided him for leaving
me alone, and took to asking every time
he came or went where he had been or
where he was going. As he was out so
often I did not light the big lump, so
there was no brightness.
"I had never cared in the first days
of my married life to ask any friends
to call in the eveulng, but lu my lone
liness and annoyance I invited several
young people. When my husband
found that out he also stayed In and
seemed to enjoy the company. Then
the demon .of jealousy entered my soul
Every time Henry spoke to a girl, sang
with her, or played a game, I sulked for
hours, or, perhaps, days. No man will
endure that, and every good girl re
sents such a suspicion from his wife;
so soon I was again left to my long,
lonely evenings.
"My husband was never unkind, but
he seemed quite Indifferent to me. Just
then the bric-a-brac craze began, and
for want of better amusement I col
lected a lot of useless stuff, made crazy
patchwork cushions and chair backs,
had little gilded tables scattered round,
and all the other fads of the day. When
Henry tried to move about he was al
ways knocking down something, and
I flew to the rescue with a cross or
peevish word to him. He never an
swered, but he kept more and more
away from home.
"I was out of health and out of spir
Its; but he seemed not to notice, and I
thought he did not care to know. No
one can tell what my dismay was when
one day he came home and began hast
ily packing a trunk, telling me that
his business would take him away for
two months, and I had better get some
friend to stay with me during his ab
sence.
"I did so, and a very kind and Judl
clous friend she proved to be. She
soon found out the state of affairs, and
also that I loved my husband passion
ately, while he seemed to be slipping
away and forgetting me. He wrote
once a week, a cold, short, duty letter,
and I did not write at all; I could not
I felt as If my heart were breaking,
"After eight weeks had dragged their
weary length along Henry wrote that
ne wouia oe at home on such a day.
The day came, and I was In a nervoua
fever of anticipation when, without
any warning, a neighbor rushed into
the house to tell us there had been a
fearful railroad accident, and many
were killed. It was the train on which
we expected Henry t
In my weak, over-wrought state the
shock was too great, and before many
hours had passed I was lying almost
at my last breath, and the little baby
from whose advent I had hoped so
much was dead. For two days I knew
nothing, then I opened my eyes to see
my husband by my side, love and anxi
ety in the dear face and eyes. I was
too weak to think, to remember the
accident, to know or to feel anything
but the Joy of his presence, and I fell
asleep with my hand held In his.
"I was young, and the happiness of
seeing bow much Henry loved me was
my best tonic. We began new life with
my good friend for an adviser. She
spoke kindly and openly to each of us,
and the result was that we tried to put
ourselves In each other's place. I once
more made home attractive, and know
ing that after a day of hard work a
man needs relaxation and amusement,
I tried to make him find It In his own
house. The friends who had been drlv
en away by my Jealousy were kind
euough to forgive and forget At this
day I doubt if there is a happier home
anywhere than ours. Henry goes to
his lodges, secure that I trust him, and
therefore he has no temptation to re
main over hours for fear of an unpleas
ant scene on bis return."
Mrs. Hapless listened intently to me,
and when I had finished she sat down
on the floor at my. feet, rested her tired
head on my lap, and cried. I patted
the untidy hair and let her have her
cry out She made no promises, but
as 1 was coming away she squeezed my
hand and thanked me.
Since then I have often run over tnere
in the afternoon and helped her "tidy
up." This evening I have just come
from her house, and this is what I saw:
A large lamp with a pink shade burn
ing on the center table. Books, maga
zines, the evening paper ready to be
taken up. On the small side table were
cards and games. Near the low rocker
placed for Mrs. Hapless stood a neat
sewing basket stand. On the opposite
side of the table a comfortable arm
chair was drawn up for "John," while
his slippers were warming near the
well-heated stove. Two or three pots
containing flowering plants stood on
the side window sill. In the dining
room was set a pretty, orderly table,
with nice china and bright silver, lamps
with ground glass shades throwing a
subdued light over all. From the
kitchen came an appetizing odor. The
hall was brilliantly lighted, and the
little wife, as she accompanied me to
the door, looked sweet and womanly
In her neat dress. The rippling hair and
soft csri3 ca her fore-head si-ciued to
catch a dancing light; her eyes were
bright and happy ns she shyly kissed
me and whispered in my ear:
"John has been at home every even
ing this week." Hearthstone.
SHOES OF THE "CELESTIALS."
Comfort and Healthfulness of Their
Woven Htraw Sandals.
"I may seem to be quarreling with
my bread and butter," said an uptown
chiropodist to oue of his best custom
ers the other day, "but in my humble
and somewhat professional opinion the
most sensible of all men In the matter
of footwear 's the Chinaman. Did you
ever notice his feet? I don't believe
there Is such a thing as a corn or buu
Ion In all China. Chiropodists would
starve to death there so far as the re
quirements of the masculine foot are
concerned. Whatever the deformities
inflicted on the feet of women lu China
may be, the men certainly enjoy sound
and comfortable understandings. Look
at the Chinese laundrymen here lu
Washington; they stand at their work
eighteen hours a day. No class of
worklngmen I know of spend so many
hours on their feet as they do. Yet they
never break down there, and physically
they are a wonderfully healthy race
"Simple living and freedom from the
nervous pursuits of our civilization may
have something to do with It but I at
tribute their exemption from foot weak
ness and disease to the kind of house
shoe so universally worn by them. I
have a pair that I have worn for sev
eral years, and I wouldn't wear any
thing else for genuine ludoor comfort
They are woven of straw and seaweed
and soled with horsehlde. There Is a
thick sole of straw above the leather,
and through this the air can circulate
freely, keeping the muscles of the un
der part of the foot always cool. Th
laundrymen, you notice, are usually
barefoot, which Is an added advantage
In the matter of healthfulness. There
Is about as little material in the uppers
as Is consistent with the Idea of a shoe,
and this Is Just enough to keep the thing
on the foot This upper, too, Is woven
loosely of seaweed, so that the air can
have access to the foot. Nowhere does
this shoe pinch or In the least degree
press the foot.
"These are the indoor shoes of the
Chinaman. On the street here in the
United States nowadays he wears very
commonly the leather shoes or boots
of American manufacture. That Is one
of the ways in which he Is becoming
Americanized. But the outdoor cloth
shoe of China Is a great deal worn also.
That Hke the Indoor shoe, is very
thick and soft In the solo, and the foot
is never pinched or strained by It The
healthiest footgear ever known prob
ably was the sandal of the Greeks. It
had no upper, and, as you will see In
statuary, the feet of men and women
were Ideally perfect. All the. sandal
afforded was a protection from the
ground. 'To him who wears sandals,'
say the Arabs, 'It Is as If the world
were shod with leather.' The China
men seems to follow out this motto, and
his shoes are merely soles and noth
Ing more. But the great secret of the
excellence of his indoor shoe Is the half-
Inch straw hole." Washington Star,
la the Blood.
Mrs. Gosslpell "So young Mr. Bene
diet has taken a wife. Dear me! and
only 24! What could have Induced blm
to take such a course?"
Mrs. Gosslper "My dear, I fancy It
runs In the blood. I hear that his father
and mother before him were married."
Judge.
We nave heard of several, but never
knew a man who could enjoy a Joke on
himself.
In every family, when kin come they
are tererred to aa "Mother's guests,'
MRS. JOSEPHINE RUFFIN.
Acainat Whom the "Color Line" Was
Drawn at Milwaukee.
At the convention of the National
Federation of Women's Clubs at Mil
waukee the "color line" was drawn and
now the question of the eligibility of
colored women to white women's clubs
is being discussed throughout the land.
The "color liue" questiou was precipi
tated in this way:
Some mouths ago the secretary of the
national federation sent to the New
Era Club, of Boston, an invitation to be
presented at the Milwaukee conven
tion. The president and founder of this
club is a colored woman, Mrs. Josephine
St. I. Kuttin, and believing that the in
vitation was extended In good faith
she went to Milwaukee to attend the
convention. The officers of the federa
tion had not kuowu that the New Era
Club was oue for colored women and
when Mrs. Kuttin appeared at the con
vention there was opposition to her and
her club from the Southern delegates
and from Southern women living In the
North.
The "bosses" of the convention sought
to shelve the annoying questiou by re
turning the fees of the New Era Club
on the plea that the Board of Directors
had not approved of the action of the
President in having accepted them. By
this act the affiliation of the New Era
Cub with the federation was denied
and Mrs. Kuttin found herself without
the right of representation. She Is de
termined, however, to huve a more for
mal decision in the matter aud has
taken legal advice. The question wllj
come up again at the next biennial con
ventlon and the Massachusetts State
Federation, with which the New Era
Club is affiliated, . will support Mrs.
Kuttin, as will .doubtless, other North
em clubH. Tills may lead to a breaking
up of the federation.
Mrs. Kuttin, who is thus the leading
figure In this Interesting situation, Is a
woman of good education and of great
ability. She Is almost white In color
and few would suspect her of having
the blood of the black race In her veins
She Is a native of Boston. Before she
was 10 she was married to George L.
Kuttin, who was one of the handsomest
aud ablest colored men In Boston. He
was a graduate of the Harvard Law
School, served several terms In the City
Council, two terms In the Legislature,
and when Gen. Benjamin F. Butler was
Governor he appointed Mr. Kuttin to a
Judgeship in Charlestown, Boston, giv
ing him the distinction of being the
first colored man to occupy a position
on the bench north of Mason and Dix
on's line. Judge Ruftln's prominence
early gave Mrs. Kuttin an opportunity
to see much of life, and before she was
30 she was identified with many move
ments concerning her sex and race.
Saxaclty of the Sage.
"nello, DI; found that honest man
yet?" asked Alexander, quizzically.
Bet your cothurus," replied Diog
enes, gruffly.
"Well, .1 suppose you've sold your
lantern, then," commented Alexander.
"Say, why don't you whitewash your
tub with the proceeds?"
"Not by an amphora full, I havent,"
retorted Diogenes, emphatically, and
Ignoring the hygienic suggestion. "But
I have contracted for a dozen more and
hired a day and a night watchman."
"Why, what for?" cried Alexander.
"Because I'm not going to have hlin
play any 'trusted employe' tricks on
me, Sandy," explained Diogenes, sage
ly shaking his head. Philadelphia In
quirer. Ijookiag for Iteit.
"Charley, dear," said young Mrs.
Torklns, "I want to go to tho races
again."
"What for?"
"It will be a rest after you and father
have been talking finance, as you do by
the hour. I want to hear about '8 to 5'
and '5 to 3' and '10 to 1' and all the rest
of them; anything In fact except '10 to
1.' I'm so tired, Charley, dear, of hear
ing the same numbers over and over
again." Washington Star.
A Parisian. Notoriety.
Isabclle, the flower girl of the Jockey
Club, a Parisian notoriety of the second
empire, died recently In a Paris hos
pital In great destitution.
A self-closing door spring adds to the
anger of the angry man who wants to
slam the door.
Pretension Isn't natural; nature never
preteuds.
WILL HONOR HEROIC DEAD.
Confederate Will Erect a Memorial
at Richmond, Va.
The recent convention of Confederate
veterans held at Louisville voted to ac
cept with thanks the offer of $100,000
made by Charles Broadway Kou.se of
New York, formerly a soldier of the
Confederacy from Virginia, for the pur
pose of erecting a memorial to the Con
federate dead at Richmond, Va. The
Memorial Committee reported that it
had secured pledges of $124,137.35 In
addition, and that the prospect of rais
ing an amount sufficient to make the
total, including Mr. Rouse's donation.
$300,000 was excellent. Upon these rep
resentations Mr. Rouse has authorized
the Confederate Veterans' Association
to draw upou him for the amount
pledged by him at any time it may bo
thought advisable to begin the work.
The Confederate Memorial Association,
which has the enterprise In baud, lies
elected Judge George L. Christian of
Richmond, Va., as its treasurer, and
the memorial is to be built In Rich
mond, the heart-city of the Confed
eracy and the place where, for four
years, the policies aud 'plans were
evolved in consequence of which the
South was enabled to make so memor
able a struggle against Inevitable de
feat.
The definite arrangements for the
construction of the memorial do not yet
appear to have been completed by the
association, but General J. C. Uuder-
wood, the Secretary and superinten
dent of the work of raising funds, has
prepared plans (with the approval of
sonic UiOuiuuia of iue executive com-
rnorosED confkdbhatk memorial.
mittee), and these plans were presented
at Louisville.
General Underwood says of his plans:
"I have designed a memorial rotunda
with a mausoleum dome and rooms for
each State, wherein relics, records and
various' other archives may be safely
kept for all time to come, aud I have
further designed suitable hanging
Bpace for a portrait gallery of renowned
Southern leaders, and I personally pur
pose to bestow upon the people of the
South twenty or more magnificent por
traits, full size, In oil, of distinguished
Confederate officers, both civil and mili
tary, as soon as a suitable place shall
have been made to receive them. And,
besides, I also present to you for In
spection statue models of President
Jefferson Davis and General Robert E.
Lee, the civil and military beads of tho
historic Confederacy, for the manufac
ture of which in bronze I, individually,
propose to raise tho requisite money,
and, as in the case of the portraits, to
donate the same to the association, to
be placed on either side of the grand
Might of steps to the portico of the said
proposed memorial building, provided
such meets with your approval.
"The maximum estimated round cost
of the design I propose Is $300,000, not
including statuary and portraits, aud
calculating upon the building site being
donated, with the amount raised,
those due, others promised and antici
pations reasonably based upon the
backing I have demonstrated, I am con
tinent of being able to secure nt least
$500,000, and If my designs nre ap
proved and authority given me to pro
ceed in accordance therewith I'll obli
gate myself to construct the memorial
building as designed, with such mod
ifications as mny be found necessary to
suit the building site to bo selected
and other essential requirements of tho
case In every particular.
"My general plan Includes the plac
ing by each State of two statues, cither
In bronze or marble, as may hereafter
be determined, to suit Inside finish of
auditorium rotunda, and that the sev
eral States shall select their heroes to
be Immortalized, each State bearing
the expense of such statuary (from $10,
000 to $12,000) representing Its own
heroes, but the portico statues and two
equestrian statues of Generals J. E. B.
Stuart and N. B. Forrest I proposo to
secure by money to be raised from out
side friendly sources aud alreudy have
assurances of material assistance tor
that purpose."
How She Got It.
A little girl who bad been told not to
ask for anything to eat at a neighbor's
came home with a face very suggest
ive of lunching. When asked by her
mother why she had asked for some
thing, she said:
"But mamma, I didn't ask Mrs. U.
I Just looked at her and said: 'Cun't
you see how hungry I am?'" Ner
York Truth.
There Is nothing as stale as an old
story, yet half of them aro com
menced: "You have probably heard it
but," etc.
Some men celebrate every day, about
nothing.