VOL. II.
M c M innville , O regon . T hursday , J anuary 6. iss7
NO. 4
Th® Daily Reporter,
Entered in the Postoffioe at McMinnville for
Transmission Through the Mails as Sec
ond Glass Matter.
------------- O-------------
D. C. IRELAND.
E. L. E. WHITE.
D. C. IRELAND A Co.,
PUBLISHERS.
T he D aily R epobteb is issued every day
in the week except Sundays, and is delivered
in the oity at 10 oents per week. By mail. 40
cents per month in advanoe. Rates for ad- ,
vertising same as for T he W eekly K epobteb .
—
Book & Job Printing.
We beg leave to announoe to the public
that we have just added a large stock of new
novelties to our business, and make a special- :
ty of Letter Heads. Bill Heads, Note Heads.
Statements, Business Cards. Ladies' Calling
Cards. Ball Invitations (new designs) Pro
grammes, Posters, and all descriptions of
work. Terms favorable. Call and be oon-
yinoed.
D. C. IRELAND A CO.
E. E. GOUCHER, M. D.
PHYSICIAN ”AND SURGEON.
M c M ixnvtllb
-
O bbgon .
Office and residenoe, oorner of Third and
D streets, next to the postoffioe.
DR. I. C. TAYLOR.
Late of New Orleans, La.,
Ptl es and Fistula a Spe
ciality. Consultation
free. No Cure
No Pay.
Office with H. V. V. Johnson, M D.:
McMinnville, Oregon.
sas . m ’ oain .
h - httblxy .
McCain & Hurley,
attorneys - at - law
AND NOTARIES PUBLIC,
Lafayette, Oregon,
Especial attention paid to abstracts of title
and settlement of estates in probate.
Office Jail bniding, ap stairs._________
Mrs. M. Sliadden.
Fashionable Dressmaker«
ly The Taylor System of Cutting and Fit
ting employed.
Third street, Next to Bishop & Kay’s store,
MoMinnville. Or.
Hair Catting, sharing and «bane,
poaing Parlor.1
15c SHAVING 15c.
C. H. FLEMING, Proprietor.
(Snooeesor to A. C. Wyndham.)
Ladies and children’s work a specialty,
have just added to my parlor the
largest and finest stock of cigars ever in this
eity. Try them.
__________________ ’’
D C. IRELAND A CO.,
Fine Job Printers,
McMinnville, Oregon.
MEDALLA,
Mil MODEL.
: I'iiu'.! u ¡.’«.•.tin.;
i t ruing light, made
a.i Indian !•:■ k^rmin.l for her figure—an
Italian horizon.
One cannot hurry with impunity through
lie ■> streets of ours, especially in winter,
with thro it iuid eh st unprotected. Medal-
la s dead. They buried her in an obscure
corner of the Montparnasse Cemetery. An
oii .inai and a dismal funeral procession.
There were a dozen old models there, classic-
ally dra)H*d in rags, and tragically mourn
ful.
There was an old woman who never ceased
to weep bitterly, and two children who
laughed. There was not much ceremony
about lowering her into the grave; there
were neither speeches nor prayers. The
prayers of the poor are short
To-day no one remembers her, except, per
haps, si me young shepherd ot her own land,
who still waits for tier, and dreams of her as
he watches his flocks, and tries, when even
ing comes, to spell out her name in the stars
—jar the New Orleans Time«-
D< mocrclf.
One of the comellest sights of a Parisian
morning are the little Italian girls. Always
smiling, always chatty—armed against the
weather with only a wretched cotton um
brella—they enliven the morning procession j
of the poor. Who has not often asked him- i
self where they perch of evenings—those ;
showy little beggar-girls—at the hour when
I
the birds go to roost?
Between tin* Place Monge and the Jardin j
des Plantes rises a fantastic quarter, built as I
Intricately as a cobweb—a great entangle
1
ment of blind alleys and dingy lanes which
’
nearly all converge toward the Place Jus
|
sieu.
Through open gateways, as in a frame, bits
of garden-green are visible. Sometimes it is
a chicken yard, with a green archwork ot j
elder, a pool of water for the ducks, and a
shred of sanded walk leading to a vegetable
garden, a patch of blue sky over it all. Here
cheap boarding houses stand elbow to elbow
with day schools, while the most eccentrie
classes of tradesmen—small stencil cutters
and cheap cobblers and magic-lantern mak
European styles In Ntationery.
ers—live at their ease in b:g stone houses
hard by. This is the Italian quarterof Paris, !
Engraved cards are the rule. Th«
On the square, groups of children play, I •cript is very delicate for ladies’cards,
flower sellers, raggninuffins, mendicants, which are of generous size, and cut
mandoline players. Curly-headed as choir nearly square. Cards for married ladiea
children, they show all their white teeth as are longer than those used by single la
they laugh, with heads thrown back, and dies, and etiquette requires that a
eyes full of light. The girls, seated motion daughter over 16 shall have her name
lessly at the foot of the trees,and very grave, on her mother’s card until she is SO
with elbows close to their sides, are busy years of age, at which liine she can
knitting worsted work of showy colors; and
old women with tortoise-necks go to draw use a card of her own. Cards bearing
water at the fountain, keeping their heads the name of husband and wife are nec
essarily large. This fashion of card it '
erect under the weight of the vessel.
only
used in paying bridal calls and
Is it not true that on certain days all these
folk are smitten with homesickness for the during the first year of marriage; at all«
sun, that they dream in vain of the golden other times the husband and wife use
hazes of the South, and white cities bathed separate visiting cards. Cards for gen
in aureate light besides an azure sea! One tlemen are narrow and rather short.
must become weary sometimes of dull hori The script is round, and has a much
zons, of neutral tints, of gray crowds swarm heavier look than the hairline letters on
ing under a slate-colored sky. But today, ladies’ cards. All kinds of invitations
a beam of sunshine pierces the clouds; let are written on clear white paper, ex
us take a peep at the little Italian girls of cept silver and golden wedding cards.
the Place Jussieu.
The former has the script in silver and
Under the glow of the rich light all this blue tinted cards; the latter has the
theatrical tinsel of costume,all this fignraqte- cards of a pinkish white and golden
undress becomes radiant. It is like the light letters. For other weddiDg invitations
ing up of an immense stage. The floating
sleeves are white as sails seen at sea; robes there Is but little variety. In the an
of velveteen show gleams in their hollow nouncement of a private marriage the
folds; red aprons blaze with a joyous flour- cards are sent out by the parents of
his of color; and everything is animated the bride; the note-sheet with lettering
and noisy and brilliant to eyes that appreci is in shaded script. Square cards are
used when the couple issue the invita
ate the frank charm of natural colors.
And here are faces of ancient sibyls such tions. If preferred, a separate card
as we read of in romance—profiles of vir with the lady’s name on can be used.
The future residence is noted on the
gins worthy to be graven upon amethysts.
Of all the Italian models who frequented lower left corner, and on the right low
the studios during recent years, little Me- er corner are stated the reception days.
dalla was by far the most charming and the Afternoon reception-cards or note
best known.
sheets are also handsomely engraved
She had really the aspect of an antique i in script When cards are used they
cameo, with her low, broad brow, her hair ! are of the square shape, with the name
braid in a rich twist behind her head, her and address. The reception day« are
sensuously partician profile. She used to i written in the left hand corner, and
live in the Rue de la Clef, In a commonplace I
and sordid dwelling, with barrels of dirty ■ either above or below this the hour is
water on every landing-place, brick stair noted, for example: “Tea at 5 o'clock.”
ways and sweating walls. But over the Dinner invitation cards are partly in
roofs could be seen one little patch of green script, neatly engraved. The guest’s
in a vacant lot; and Medalla dreamed of her name is written by the hostess, a pret
broad Italian vales, silent and dreamy lands, ty idea, one intended to impart a
where the lazy flocks slumber under the mel friendly tone to the invitation.
low light.
A Brooklyn woman said to her
They loved her in the studios for her grace servant girl, a fresh arrival on the
fulness and her smile. Her portrait was ex latest boat from Cork: “Bridget, go
hibited several times at the Salon last year. out and see if Mr. Block, the Duteher
You must certainly have remarked her fever- on the corner, has pigs’ feet.” The
ishly-bright eyes, that burned beneath her dutiful servant went out and returned.
brows like dry twigs in a furnace. In on« “Well, what did he say?” asked the
painting you see her drawing water from a mistress.
“Sure, be said nuthin',
fountain into a bronze vessel; in another she mum.” “Has he got pigs’ feet?”
holds out her hand to you from th« recess of “Faith, I couldn’t see, mum—be has
a deep gateway; in another you see her ly his boots on.”
ing asleep, with her curly head reposing on
“Why hre you home so early?”
her tambourine. But she is moat often
asked
a wife of her husband. “Is the
painted laughing.
You ought to have seen her in the morn singing school exhibition out already?”
ing when the little band of models used to “No; not more thaD half out,” he re
descend the «lopeof Sainte-Genevieve—mak plied. “Why didn’t vou stay to the
ing specks of brilliant color with their rag close? Weren't you interested in the
ged costumes against the monotonous hori singing?” “I wasuntila sixteen-year-
zon—to hail the omnibuses with sonorous old boy attempted to sing ‘Larboard
criee, and climb up with bunts of laughter. Watch, Ahoy.’ Then I thought 1
She would come down walking against the would come home, go to bed and try
bitter wind, her bosom palpitating behind to forget all about iu”
the thin chemise. Her ragged dress illumin
Chauncey M. Depew and Franklin R.
ated all the street ; her beautiful hair, as in
revolt of young life, would break through Gowen both entered the railway world
her Jiespolitan headdress, and behind bfr from lew office«
PRICE TWO CENT8.
Young NilviiratorH.
As I approached Manikuagon Point,
opposite the red light-ship, warning
vessels oil that dangerous shoal, I saw a
very small boat standing in from the
open sea, so far off that it seemed as
if it must have come up out of the sea,
and did not appreciate the dangers
about it. As wo both approached the
beach, 1 saw that it contained a man
and two children—a bright-eyed boy
about eight years old and a girl about
ten. The iuiui jumped from the bow
into the surf, ami pushed the boat off,
wnile directing the little boy at the
stern in a gruff, sea-worn voice:
“Heave away, lad: get your oar over
to starboard, or she’ll swing around.
Now, Mary, shove her head over—
uurrv up! don’t you see that heavy
swell? Hold hard! Now get her head
about, quick as you can.
That’s it.
Haul in your sheet.” And at last
those little mites were standing out to
sea agaiu, and settling themselves
down in the stern-sheets as composed
ly as they might sit down on a door
sill.
“Where on earth, sir, are your chil
dren going, alone, and on this stormy
coast? Will you ever see them again?”
“O yes, sir,” he replied, smiling;
they are used to a boat; they are tak
ing some seals I have just brought in
from the nets down to the next bay;
it's onlv a few miles. We don’t think
rnucn aooul such dangers; out we are
perhaps a little too venturesome some
times. One of my friends on Anti
costi sent his two boys to take the
boat across the mouth of their bay for
a load of hay. A squall came up so
heavy that the boat could not beat in
to shelter, and they were carried out
to sea. Nothing was ever 9oen of
them afterward.” Here be soanned
the horizon, and looked after his own
boat with a thoughtful expression.
“But with this fair wind the children
w ill soon reach home. We have an
other danger besides the weather:
sharks are dangerous here; they some
times follow a boat for hours, and now
and then they capsize her and take a
man ‘down.
At least we suppose
it must be done by the sharks. Last
year, right out there, an Indian was
after a seal; pretty soon we saw him
stand up and fight something in the
water with his paddle. In a minute
his canoe capsized and be went under.
When we got there all we found was
his canoe stove in amidships.”
“But that seems more like the ac
tion of the devil-fish.”
“Well, yes, but we have never seen
any devil-fish here, and there are plen
ty of sharks. ” — U. IL Farnham, in
harper's Magazine for September.
Heine’s Picture of Hi« Wife.
She had a niece, sixteen years old.
lik« myself, but suddenly grown so tall
that she appeared much older than L
It was in consequence of this sudden
growth that she was very thin. 8he
ad that thin waist which we notice in
the West Indies among the quadroons,
and, as she wore neither eorsels nor a
donen skirts, her clinging robes were
like the wet garments of a statue. Bnt
no marble statue could ever compete
with her for beauty, for she had life
itself, and every movement of her body
revealed, as it were, even the music of
her soul. None of the daughters of
Niobe hsd a face of nobler cut; ite col
or, as the color of her skin generally,
was of a changing white. Her large,
dark eyes looked ae if they had put »
riddle and were waiting calmly for the
solution; while her mouth, with the
thin, ourved lips and the white, rather
long teeth, seemed to say, “Ton are
too stupid, and you will guess in vain.’*
Her hair was rod—quite blood-red
an d fell in long curls over her should
ers, so that she oould tie it under her
chin. But this made her look as if her
neck had been out off and red streams
of blood were welling out of it **' "*