Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1855-05-31
Prom the saturday Evening Post.


From the Saturday Evening Post.
SKETCHES BIT FANNY FERE-D1sHA
BILLIE MEDIfArIoNs.-Oh, that cruelty
ing goingl Oh, that remorseless waiter
Why piu he always give an extra -four.
ish before the door Of one. totally map
preciative of scientific gong-ism?
"Steaks, omelettes, broils and hash
es;" the whole thing is disgusting-aI
least, when one has no appetite. / will
watch my .neighbors. What a horribly
ugly mani what lantern jaws, what a
beak of nose. What fright he must
be asleepl His vest is too short for
him, and his cravat is fright. He calls
his wife "'dear," too, every five minutes
"a sure sign that he boxes her ears in
private. Now he uhfurls the morning
paper. There is no surer guage of a
mans intellectually, than his favOrite
newspaper. His is the e---
Just as I ezpeetedi
See that lady opposite, examining her
plate, knife. fork and napkin. micro
scopically; this egg is "too soft" that
"too hard:" the omelette "too brown, I"
the coffee ''too strong" Well, it is as
good way as any. | suppose. of attract
ing attention to that elegant morning
dress. What an artillery of coquetry
may be played off with little white
hand. See it now, cleaning amid her
dark curls; now supporting her d:mpled
chin; now playing with fork or nap
kin. All! she has not angled in vain.
There is poor, silly moth of a lawyer.
opposite, whose wings are already sing
ed in the fame. He has sweetened that
cup of tea FIVE times already, to my
knowledge.
And here are some new comers.-
What a treat it is to see fine-looking,
well-dressed, cheerful old lady! with
sense enough to wear her own silver
hair. instead of some unharmonizing
frizette, furnished by the perruquier.-
By her side is her son, supporting upon
his arm his invalid wife. What con-
trast! She, with that corpse-like COM
plexion, faded blue eyes, attenuated
form, and hands so transparent, with
their blue-veined tracery. lie, bold,
bright, muscular, full of vitality as a
gladiator, with luxuriant, curly locks,
white glittering teeth, and the form of
a Hercules. How languidly the invalid
leans her head upon her handl Now
she glances, shivering, at an open door,
and the nice old lady motions servant
to shut it. An egg is brought her, a
cup of tea, some toast; she just tastes
them, and sits back, as if unequal to
the effort. Now she says querulously
(poor thing) "tis SO cOld;" although
my impulse is, to throw open the win
dows; her husband, in compliance with
her request, goes to her room, and
brings her a shawl. / look to see him
fold it tenderly around those poor. thin
shoulders, but he tosses it over her. as
carelessly as if she were clothes-horse.
All, he is no longer handsome in my
eyes, and when, the next morning. with
a gallant bow, he hands me something
which | requested of the waiter. l al
most feel like resenting the civility-
now the poor restless invalid throws off
the shawl, and says, "tis so hot" and
wishes to leave the table before her par
ty. Her husband rises impatienily, Of
fers her his arm, and they disappear
All. me! how very sad to have lived too
loug-long enough to weary those
whom we lovei
There is a group now; that clergy
man and his wife and child. Observe
the starch in his collar and conduct
notice the elongation of his face and
how few and oracular are his
words; his eyes when not needed on his
plate, are cast, beyond his sinful fellow
creatures, up to the ceiling, and he
hands that omelette to his wife as sol
emnly as if he were giving the right
hand of fellowship. Oh. fudge! His
wife looks pietistic. prim pin-feathery; |
and his child is just what you might ex |
pect; (already at six years, little
Pharisaical bigot. See! she lays her
tiny hand on that little joyous creature
who is skipping through the hall. full
Of irrepressible life, and says with a
wire drawn solemnity that would be
ridiculous. were it not so pitiful: Don't
dance-it is tcieked-goOd people never
dance The little, honest. merry Puck
tosses back her curls and
"but l am not good, sissy" p
Dear little fairy; God forbid your inno-
cent glee should ever be checked-your
merry laugh hushed. by distorted view~
Of Him, who taught the lambs to skip
and the birds to sing, who draped the
earth not with sack-cloth, but with sap
phire blue, and emeral green. spangled
with stars and embroidered with daisies.
FANNY FERN.
MARROW EscAPE.-A lady entered a |