193

A WORD WITH THE WOMEN

(By Elia W. Peattie)

When one is particularly cynical, there is nothing that confirms her pessimism more than to pick up a copy of the daily paper, and read all the news that refers to women. Misery, pain, shame, sorrow, heroism, madness, sacrifice, and now and then happiness or frivolity are to be found that would furnish the material for a dozen novels, yet are contained in the telegraphic reports of one day. Taking a paper by chance the other day this is what I found in a single issue.

Lizzie Cark, a Salvation army girl of St Louis entered a fire engine house,
went to the stall where the horses are kept, and, falling on her knees, began to
pray for the souls of the horses. They arrested her and locked her in a cell,
where she peered through the bars and sang "Rescue the Perishing." Was she mad? Well, of course, the policeman thought so. In India a person would be mad who suggested that woman had a soul. In America a person is mad who suggests that a horse has one. One has has only to be in the minority to be mad.

Here is the next item. At East Liverpool, O, a woman lies dying calling for her daughter, who has left her and disappeared. She fears the utmost of shame and misery for that daughter, and has forgotten the pages of death in her agonized anxiety for her child- who, not very long ago was her innocent little girl. This is sorrow past sorrow, and death, to be merciful, must come quickly.

From pathos to bathos

Amelle Rivers Chanler has discovered a hero whose heart gave a hot leap along his breast to his throat, leaving a fiery track behind as of sparks."

Here is the tragic- and the heroic. At Charleston, W Va, Robert Hill beat one of his sons so cruelly that the boy ran to his mother for protection. She wrapped her arms around him and the infuriated father struck her and beat her. His young daughter-- only a child in years- walked into the room, placed a revolver at the base of her father's brain and killed him. She has been indicted for murder. But she belongs along with Corday and other slayers of tyrants. Such acts pass crime and become heroism. Moral action has its perfect circle. Vice and virtue meet. If a West Virginia jury convicts her the men will have degenerated from the time when they stood alone against their mother state, and seceded for human liberty, making new boundary lines to emphasize their principles.

Then here's a woman married at 55 to a man of 69- snatching an afterglow of happiness.

Ada Reban, they say, has a penchant for handsome furniture.

Miss Nethersole has copper-colored hair, and plays Gilberte in "Frou Frou" this way in the last act 'The scene where Sartorys comes to Gilberte in Venice after she has abandoned him for Valreas was characterized by intense dramatic feeling, but the climax of her art was not reached until the last act, where, dishonored and dying, she returns to her old home and her child. Her face was so deathlike in its
expression, her eyes so weird, her voice so feeble, with the warning note of death evident in its whispered cadences, that those who saw and heart is all, shuddered and wept. The house was so still that the sobs of women could be heard despite the efforts to suppress them, and even the men were using their handkerchiefs freely."

Here's a woman bribing her daughter, who is a countess--poor creature--to leave the United States and never come back. She offers her $8,000 a year if she will do it. The daughter accepted and signed the agreement.

A bride on her wedding night, living in the wilds of Indiana, is beaten in her own house by two former admirers, and the husband kills them.

A hungry bull dog, outraged and stung into anarchy by the sight through a plate glass window of a young woman holding a little be-ribboned puppy in her arms, leaps through the window and endeavors to tear the dog in pieces. Falling in this owing to the woman's protection of her pet, he rends her hand.

A wedding ceremony, with maids of honor, bridesmaids, flowers, palms, white prayer book, veil and "a diamond star the gift of the groom." The name of the groom is mentioned most incidentally and casually. The description of the gown of the bride fills a quarter of a column. Is it a marriage- or only a wedding?

That's the day's grist. That's the way one day grinds human hearts. The mills of the gods grind exceedingly small.

A WORD
WITH THE WOMEN

(By Elia W. Peattie)

When one is particularly cynical,
there is nothing that confirms her pes-
simism more than to pick up a copy of
the daily paper, and read all the news
that refers to women. Misery, pain,
shame, sorrow, heroism, madness, sacri-
fice, and now and then happiness or
frivolity are to be found that would
furnish the material for a dozen novels,
yet are contained in the telegraphic re-
ports of one day. Taking a paper by
chance the other day this is what I
found in a single issue.

Lizzie Cark, a Salvation army girl of
St Louis entered a fire engine house,
went to the stall where the horses are
kept, and, falling on her knees, began to
pray for the souls of the horses. They ar-
rested her and locked her in a cell,
where she peered through the bars and
sang "Rescue the Perishing." Was she
mand? Well, of course, the policeman
thought so. In India a person would be
mad who suggested that woman had a
soul. In America a person is mad who
suggests that a horse has one. One has
has only to be in the minority to be
mad.

Here is the next item. At East liver-
pool, O, a woman lies dying calling for
her daughter, who has left her and dis-
appeared. She fears the utmost of
shame and misery for that daughter,
and has forgotten the pages of death in
her agonized anxiety for her child- who,
not very long ago was her innocent
little girl. This is sorrow past sorrow,
and death, to be merciful, must come
quickly.

From pathos to bathos

Amelle Rivers Chanler has discovered
a hero whose heart gave a hot leap
along his breast to his throat, leaving a
fiery track behind as of sparks"

Here is the tragic- and the heroic
At Charleston, W Va, Robert Hill beat
one of his sons so cruelly that the boy
ran to his mother for protection. She
wrapped her arms around him and
the infuriated father struck her and
beat her. His young daughter-- only a
child in years- walked into the room,
placed a revolver at the base of her
father's brain and killed him. She has
been indicted for murder. But she be-
longs along with Corday and other slay-
ers of tyrants. Such acts pass crime
and become heroism. Moral action has
its perfect circle. Vice and virtue meet.
If a West Virginia jury convicts her
the men will have degenerated from
the time when they stood alone against
their mother state, and seceded for hu-
man liberty, making new boundary lines
to emphasize their principles.

Then here's a woman married at 55
to a man of 69- snatching an afterglow
of happiness.

Ada Reban, they say, has a penchant
for handsome furniture.

Miss [Nethermole] has copper-colored
hair, and plays Gilberte in "Frou Frou"
this way in the last act 'The scene
where Sartorys comes to Gilberte in
Venice after she has abandoned him
for Valreas was characterized by in-
tense dramatic feeling, but the climax
of her art was not reached until the
last act, where, dishonored and dying,
she returns to her old home and her
child. Her face was so deathlike in its
expression, her eyes so weird, her voice
so feeble, with the warning note of
death evident in its whispered cadences,
that those who saw and heart is all,
shuddered and wept. The house was
so still that the sobs of women could
be heard despite the efforts to suppress
them, and even the men were using
their handkerchiefs freely."

Here's a woman bribing her daugh-
ter, who is a countess-poor creature-
to leave the United States and never
come back. She offers her $8,000 a year
if she will do it. The daughter accepted
and signed the agreement.

A bride on her wedding night, living
in the wilds of Indiana, is beaten in her
own house by two former admirers,
and the husband kills them.

A hungry bull dog, outraged and stung
into anarchy by the sight through a
plate glass window of a young woman
holding a little be-ribboned puppy in
her arms, leaps through the window and
endeavors to tear the dog in pieces.
Falling in this owing to the woman's
protection of her pet, he rends her
hand.

A wedding ceremony, with maids of
honor, bridesmaids, flowers, palms,
white prayer book, veil and "a diamond
star the gift of the groom" The name
of the groom is mentioned most inci-
dentally and casually. The de-
scription of the gown of the bride fills
a quarter of a column. Is it a marriage
- or only a w edding?

That's the day's grist. That's the
way one day grinds human hearts. The
mills of the gods grind exceedingly
small