CHARLOTTE MESSENGER.
VOL. I. NO. 47.
THE MODEL AMERICAN GIRU
A practical, plain girl; «
N'ot-afraid-of-the-rain young girl)
A poetical posy,
A ruddy and rosy,
A helper-of-self young girl,
At-home-in-her-plaoe young girt |
A never-will-lac j young girl;
A toiler serene,
A life pure and clean,
A princesß-of-peace young girl j
A wear-her-own-hair young girl f
A free-from-a-etare young girl |
Improves eve*y hour.
No sickly sunflower,
A wealth-of-rare-sense young girL
Plenty-room-in-her-shoes young girt;
No indulger-in-blbes young girl;
Not a bang on her brow.
To fraud not a bow,
She's a just-wbat-she-seems young gid.
Not a reader-of-trash young girl;
Not a cheap jewel-flash young girl i
Not a sipper of rum.
Not a chewer of gum,
A marvel-of-sense young girt*
An early-retiring young girt; •
An active, aspiring young girl
A morning ariser,
A dandy despiser,
A progressive American girl*
A lover-of-prose young girl;
Not a tum-up-your-nose young girl;
Not given to splntter,-
Not “utterly utter, n •
But a matter-of-fact young girl*
A rightly-ambitious young girl;
Red-lips-moet-delioious young girl
# A sparkling clear eye,
That says, “ I will try/*
A mre-to-suoceed young girL
An honestly-courting young girl;
A uever-seen-flirting young girl;
A quite and pore,
A modest demure,
A fit-for-a-wife young girl j
A young girl 9
A future-most-fair yonng girl;
An ever discreet.
We too seldom meet
Tins queen-among-queens yonng girl.
I'irgil A. Pinkley, in Cincinnati Enquirer
UNDER FALSE COLORS.
“ A literary man, eh ?’’ said Octavia
rlenn. ‘-Author of ‘Stray Leaves’
ind ‘ Floating Fancies!’ Then why in
he name of all the muses and graces
-in't hp about his work ?”
Little Fernanda drew herself up
vith some excitement.
“ He is having his spring vacation,”
aid she. “He is resting his over
vearied brain a little, before the public
hall become clamorous for more
vritiugs from his pen.”
“ Oh !” said Octavia.
“ Ves,” nodded her younger sister.
‘ And, oh, Octavia, you can’t think
io\v charming he is ! I have always
iqhed to know an author. And heisn't
i bit conceited or set up !”
“ Isn't he?"
“Not a particle. He has written
iis autograph in my album, and given
ne a copy of ‘Floating Fancies.’ And
Jury Martinez is quite wild about
Jim. And, Octy—”
“Well?”
‘ l’lease don’t say anything about
be store,” coaxed Fernanda. “1 have
;iven him to understand that you are
aking a course of lessons in music and
borough baas. It isn’t genteel to be a
shop-girl, you know, and —”
“ Holty toity!” said Octavia, with a
toss of her really handsome head.
This is a pretty state of things, and
til about a man who writes buks.
isn’t it just as genteel for ine to aell
buttons and co'ogne and lace
x* it is for him to sell his writings?
dud haven’t I a right, to earn my own
iving in any way that I choose?
Fernanda, I didn’t think you were such
» goos?!”
“ He is very particular about such
things," said Fernanda. “He didn’t
want an introduction to Melissa llumb
iftcr he heard that she worked in the
factory.”
“ More fool he!” said Octavia,
•riaply.
“He is a gentleman, you know,’
ilcaded Fernanda.
“ Pshaw !” said Octavia.
“ Octy's right— Octy’s right, my
!ear,”said old Grandfather Glenn, who
had been sitting so still in his arm-chair
near by that neither of the girls sup
posed that the subject of their die
tour .e was known to him. “A true
gent.eman h mors the woman as earns
her own bread. There's a deal of
■iectroplate in this world, and some of
t is laid <m so skillful you can’t dis
tinguish It from real silver. But the
silver’s silver for all that, and the
other’s only humbug!”
CHARLOTTE, MECKLENBURG CO., N. C., MAY 26, 1883.
Having uttered which oracular sen
tences old Mr. Glenn once more re
lapsed into silence.
“Grandpa is so queer!” said Fer
nanda, with an injured expression of
countenance. “ But you’ll promise me,
won’t you, dear?”
Bui Octavia only laughed, and went
out into the kitchen to see if the bread
was light enough for the oven.
Mr. Fitz Arragon was certainly
rather handsome. He was dressed
very elegantly, also; he wore what
was either a diamond or a very ex
cellent imitation of one on his linger,
and his cravats were simply superb.
He looked at Octavia Glenn with soma
interest when they were introduced.
“You are foad of music?’ he said,
in that soft, insinuating way which
Fernanda found so irresistible.
“I'don't object to it,” said Octavia,
bluntly,.
“Irs a divine gift,” Fitz
Arragon. “ May I ask if you are tak
ing lessons from Ferrani or Agra
monte?"
“ Neither one of ’em,” said Octavia.
And at tbat juncture Fernanda
hurried the literary man away to look
at a beautiful cluster of trailing ar
butus which some one had just
brought in from the woods.
. “There's no telling what Octy
would blurt out if you once gave her
the chance," said she.
And she did not breathe freely until
Octavia had left the old farmhouse and
gone back to her duties in the big
fancy store on Twenty-third street.
Octavia herself felt »> if some dis
agreeable pressure were removed from
her existence. She was a frank, noble
natured girl, who was saving up her
earnings to pay off the mortage on old
Grandfather Glenn’s farm.
She delighted in work, not only for
its own sake, hut for the beneficial re
sults it could produce ; and she had
sufficient of courage and self-denial to
live plainly until her object was at
tained.
She occupied a fireless hall bedroom
in a shabby little downtown boarding
house, patronized mostly by the guild
of working people, whose only recom
mendation was its scrupulous neat
ness.
She wore cotton gloves, dyed-over
gowns and the plainest of plain bon
nets. and through it ail she respected
herself.
Stay, though—we have not told it
all! There was one extravagance in
which (Xtavia Glenn occasionally in
dulged herself—that of charity. She
iiad a cviss of innocent-faced children
in the mission school, of an evening,
and Bhe was a diligent worker in the
ranks of a quiet benevolent society,
which wrought a great deal of good
without any blowing of trumpets.
And one day when the feeble old
porter at the store fell ill and his place
was vacant, Octavia Glenn constituted
herself a committee of one to inquire
into the matter.
“Os course you can do as you like.
Miss Glenn,” 'said Mr. Idem, the pro
prietor of the store. “ But Ferrigan
lives in a most di nial neighborhood,
and I’m not sure that it is altogether
safe for you to venture there after
dark."
“ After dark is all the time I have,
said Octavia, brusquely. “And it
must be a great deal worse to live
there than to go once in awhile. I
think I’ll risk it.”
So she begged permission from the
lioarding-house keeper to make a little
farina jelly over the cooking-stove
when the heavy, blackberry dump
lings. which were to regale the boarders
for dessert, were taken up, bought a
few strawberries and a small slice of
sponge-cake, and set forth to visit old
Ferrigan, the porter.
It was a dismal neighborhood, in
deed, where the poor old man lived—
a neighborhood where piles of ashes in
the narrow street made a sort of model
of the Bocky mounta ns, on a small
scale, and layers of cabbage-leaves and
damaged lettuce festered in the gutter;
where rivulets of soapsuds trickled
acros. the pavement; and there ap
peared to be more feeble groceries
than there were people. The very
gaslights sulked behind their cloudy
lanterns, and the occasional passers
prowled by like homeless cats.
“Number ninety-nine.” said Oc
tavia, briskly walking into a thread
and-needle store, where an old woman
sat fast asleep behind the counter.
“Does Mr. Ferrigan board here?”
The old woman roused herself and
looked about.
“ (second Hoor back, said she, and
instantly fell asleep again.
Octavia smiled.
“ I can find my way myself, I don t
doubt,” she thought.
And she did.
The whole house seemed to be damp.
Blotches of blue mold had broken out
here and there on the ceiling, the walls
felt damp and clammy to the touch, as
if Octavia had put her hand by mis
take on a snail; vegetable-scented
whiffs came up now and then frpm
the cellar, and the room in which old
Ferrigan lay gasping with rheumatic
pains felt more like a dungeon than
anything else.
No carpet was there, no table, only
a shelf, where a dispirited kerosene
lamp had smokeddts chimney into a
black cylinder; no chairs, the window
uncurtained; and the shabby bed
spread was tattered and soiled until
its pattern was beyond all recognition.
Octavia’s soul recoiled from this im
personation of hopeless poverty.
“ Can I do anything for you, Mr.
Ferrigan?” she asked, after she had
tenderly administered the farina-jelly,
the fruit and the sponge-cake, straight
ened up the bedclothes and trimmed
the lamp afresh.
“It’s very good of you, I am sure,”
said the old man, with the plaintive;
courte.y of his nation. “ And 111 not;
deny it was a word of comfort and.
kindness that I was wearying for. (
But it won’t be needful long, I’m<
hoping. I’ve sent word to my son—
he’s a bookbinder, miss, and doing well
at bis trade, but it is natural like, don't
you see? as he wouldn’t like to be
dragged down by such a useless old
clog as me!”
“ But he is your son, isn’t he ?” cried
Octavia ; “ and you’re his father?”
“faith, and that's true, miss, dear.’
said old Ferrigan, with a sigh. “ Bat
he's a fine, ambitions young man—a
rale gintleraan to look at, and of a
Sunday you couldn’t tell him from the
gentry themselves. An’ he may
marry a grand lady yet—who knows ?
—an’ he wouldn’t like me to be spoilin’
his chances. So I just keep dark, Miss
Glenn ; an’ sometimes I think—Lord
forgive me!—that I’d be better dead
an’ out of the way. But I sent word
to him day before yesterday. An’
he'll come—l think he’ll come !” the
old man added, with a scarcely audible
sigh.
At that moment a careless step
came up the stairs—the door was
pushed open and a tall figure strode in.
“Sick again !” said a petulant tone.
“It appears to me, old gentleman, that
it’s your chief mission in life to make
trouble for other people. Well, what
is it now ? If it’s money you want,
you may as well understand, first as
last, that I can’t let you have any.
You’ll have to swallow that absurd
prejudice of yours against charitable
institutions, or—"
He stopped short, impelled by the
hurried gesture of the old man’s
hand.
“ Soinebcdy’s here ?" said he, peer
ing through the semi-darkness.
“ Well, why couldn’t y,ou say so ? Who
is it ? The old hag downstairs, or—”
“It is I, Mr. Fitz Arragon,” said
Octavia, quietly advancing—“ Octavia
Glenn.”
“ Oh, I beg a thousand pardons!”
said Mr. Ferrigan Fitz Arragon, hur
riedly assuming his “company” man
ners. “If I could have imagined that
such an honor as this was in store for
me—”
•• I don’t know what you mean by
such honors,” said Octavia,. bluntly.
“I am a working girl; you are a book
binder. We have neither of ns any
reason to be ashamed of our calling;
yet I see no necessity for fine language
and stilted titles. Your poor old father
is very ill, and seems to be in need of
the commonest necessities of life.
Suppose you sell your diamond ring
and help him ?”
That was the end of Mr. Fitz
Arragon’s pretensions. He never
came back to the country solitudes
again, to Fernanda Glenn’s bitter dis
appointment.
But how could he face, them all
after it was discovered that his “author
ship” of “Stray Leaves” and “ Float
ing Fancies” was confined only to
putting the covers on the same, and
that the real author was a stout, short,
oi l gentleman in spectacles, and that
even hit name was a fabrication of his
own ingenious brain ?
Old Mr. Ferrigan died. Perhaps, as
he himself had hinted, it was the best
and wisest thing he could do.
But Octavia Glenn’s kindness and
watchful care soothe I his Last hours,
and she had the s itisfai tion of getting
the pri eof a decent funeral out of
the ambitious son.
“ A jay in borrowed plumage!” she
thought. “I never despised any one
Bu mu h in my life 1”
And when Fernanda bewailed her
delusion, old Grandfather Glenn only
smiled and said:
“ Didn't I tell y«u that ha was only
eleotro-plated?"
THE BAD ROY AND THE BAND
HE GETS UP A SEBEHASE EH HOXOB
OP HIS PA.
Tlie old (irntlpmnn Entertains the tseeen
nilcra With a Spect-h anS Iterreahaienta-
Strrloua Tronbl a at the Church.
“ What was it I heard about a band
serenading your father, and his invit
ing them in to lunch?” said the gro
cery maD to the bad boy.
” Don't let that get out, or pa will
kill me dead. It was a joke. One of
these Bohemian bands that goes about
town playing tunes, for pennies, was
over on the n#tt street, and I told pa
I guessed some of his friends who had
heard we had a baby at the house had
hired a band and was coming in a few
minutes to serenade him, and he better
prepare to make a speech. Pa is proud
of being a father at his age, and he
thought it was no more than right for
the neighbors to serenade him, and he
went to loading himself for a speech,
in the library, and me and my chum
went out and told the leader of the
band there was a family up there that
wanted some music, and they didn't
care for expense, so they quit blowing
where they was and came right along.
None of them could understand Eng
lish except the leader,and he only under
stood enough to go and take a drink
when he is invited. My chum steered
the band up to our house and got them
to play ‘Babies on our Bio k,’ and
‘Baby Mine,’ and I stopped all the men
who were going home and told them
to wait a minute and they would see
some fun, so when the band got
through the second tune, and the
Prussians were emptying the beer out
of the horns, and pa stepped out on
the porch, there was more nor a
hundred people in front of the house.
You’d a dide to see pa when he put
his hand in the breast of his coat, and
struck an attitude. He looked like a
congressman, or a tramp. The band
was scared, ’cause they thought he'
was mad, and some of them were
going to run, thinking he was going
to throw pieces of brick house at them,
but my chum and the leader kept
them. Then pa sailed in. He com
menced. ‘Fellow citizens,’ and then
went away hack to Adam and Eve,
and worked up to the present day,
giving a history of the notable people
who had a ‘quired children, and kept
the crowd interested. I felt sorry for
pa, cause I knew how he would feel
when he rame to find out he had been
sold. The Bohemians in the hand that
couldn't understand English, they
looked at each other, and wondered
what it was all about, and finally pa
wound up by saying that it was every
citizen’s duty to own i h ldren of his
own, and then he invited the band and
the crowd in to take some refresh
ments. Well, you ought to have seen
that hand come in tue house. They
fell over each other getting in. and
the crowd went home, leaving
pa and . my chum and me
and the band. Eat? Well,
I should smile. They just reached for
things, anil talked Bohemian. Drink?
Oh, no. Igu ss they didn't pour it
down. Pa opened a dozen bottles of
chaui| agne, and they fairly bathed in
it, as though they had a fire inside.
Pa tried to talk with them about the
baby, but they couldn’t understand,
and finally they got full and started
out, and the leaier asked pa for three
dollars, and that broke him up. Pa
told the leader he supposed the gentle
men who had got up the serenade had
paid for the music, and the leader
pointed to me and said I was the
gentleman that got it up. Pa paid
him, but he had a wicked look in his
eye, and me and my chum lit out,
and the Bohemians came down
the street bilin’ full, with their horns
on their arms, and they were talking
Bohemian for ail that was out. They
stopped in front of a vacant house and
began to play, but you couldn't tell
what tune it was, they were so full,
and a policeman came along and drove
them home. I guess I will sleep ct
the livery stable to-night, cause pa is
offul unreasonable when anything
costs lam thres dollars, beside the
champagne. ’
“ Well, you have made a pretty mess
of it," said the grocery man. “ It’s a
wonder your pa does not kill you. But
what is it I hear about the trouble a'
ilie church? They lay that foolishness
to you.”
“ It’s a lie. They lay everything to
me. It was some of them ducks that
ling in the choir. I was just as much
Surprised as anybody when it occurred.
Vou see, our minister is laid up from
the effect of the ride to the funeral,
when he tried to run over a street ear.
»nd nn old deaiou, who had symptoms
jt being a minister in hia youth, was
nvited to take the minister’s place
ind talk a little. He is a* afaaeat-
?. C. SMITH. Publisher.
I minded old party, who don’t keep up
with the events of -he day, and whe
ever played it on hill knew that hr
was too pious to even read the dailj
papers. 1 here was a notice of a choii
meeting tc* b• • rend and I think tin
tenor smuggled in the other notice
between that and the one about th<
weekly prayer meeting. After tin
deacon read the choir notice he tool
up the other one and read, • I am re
quested to announce that the Y. M. C
Association wilt give a friendly enter
tainment with soft gloves, on 'i uesday
evening, to which all are invited
Brother John Sullivan, the eminent
Boston revivalist, will lead the
exercises, assisted by Brothel
Slade, the Maori missionary from
Australia. There will be no slug
ging; but a collection will be taken up
at the door to defray expenses.’ Well
I thought the people in church would
sink through the floor. There wasnot
a person in the church, except the poor
old deacon, but what un terstood that
some wicked wretch had deceived him,
and I know by the way the tenor
tickled the soprano, that he did it. I
may be mean, but everything I do is
innocent and I wouldn’t be - as mean
as a choir singrr for two dollars. I
felt real sorry for the old deacon, but
he never knew what he had done, and
I think it would be real mean to tell
him. He won’t be at the slugging
match. That remark about taking up
a collection s-tthd the deacon. I
must go down to the stable now and
help grease a hack, so you will have to
excuse me. If pa comes here looking
for me. tell him you heard I was going
to drive a picnic party out to Wau
kesha. and may not be back in a week.
By that time pa will get over that
Bohemian serenade," and the boy filled
his pistol pocket with dried apples and
went out and hung a sign in front of
the grocery. “Strawberries two shillin
a smell, and one smell is enuff.”— (f.
W. Peck.
The Prevention of Insanity.
Dr. Nathan Allen, of Lowell. Mass.,
in a pamphlet on the subject, calls at
tention to the prevention of insanity
ai a question which, although much
negle.-ted, is at least quite as important
as that of tiie cure of insanity. The
disease is very largely dependent on
physical and sanitary conditions, and
these should be studied out and brought
within such regulation as will prevent
its development. Since, according to
the late Sir Jaites Coxe. insanity
originates in some form of disease or
in a deterioration of the body rather
than in an exclusive affection of the
nervous system, its growth should be
checked by a general diffusion of the
knowledge of the laws of the human
organism and the use of all means
necessary for the preservation of good
health. So far as insanity is heredi
tary, its transmission should be pre
vented by avoiding marriage with
persons predisposed to it. It should be
the aim of the medical profession to
become so well acquainted with the
diseases of the nervous sv; tem and the
brain that they could detect the first
symptoms of disturbed or deranged
states of mind, so as to be able to treat
them understandrogly, and, in all
probability, in many cases successfully.’
—Popular Science Monthly.
There’s Where He Had Her.
“ Two hundred dollars for making a.
plain dress?” he yelled, as he saw the.
bill—“ I’ll never pay it!”
“ You have been very stingy with
me for the last year," she replied.
“ You are extravagant!”
“No more than you are!”
“ I’ll never pay this bill ”
“You must!”
“ Never!
“ Then I’ll pawn my diamonds and
pay it myself!”
“Ha r
“ Yes, ha !”
He goe i out chuckling. He knows
her to t.e a woman of her word, and
he is wondering how she will feel a
the pawnbroker politely hands them
back, with the observation:
“ We never advance money on the
paste article 1” Wall Street Neu w.
Elephant’s Milk.
The compueition of elephant’s milk,
according to the analysis of Dr. (juei*-
n-ville, in the Moniteur SeimUfiqtP.
is similar to that of crean, but its
consistency is different. lib odor and
tast ■ are very agreeable, and the taste'
is superior t > that of most other kinds
of milk. It is about equal to cow’s
milk in quality. In view of these
facts, La Nature, of Paris, does not
despair of seeing the day when an ad
venturous speculator shall bring a
tro ip of elephants to bedrivi n through
the streets ot the city as golds are now
driven, to furnish each customer with
his oup of milk direct from the teat.