Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1865-03-02

had been at the door four minutes
when / came down, and Ned was
looking black. I tried to look IN.
concerned, and smiled srduousiy,
and had just put ny foot upon the
step, when the storm burst--"G6 M
stairs and take that thing of, ,n-said
he, with coatemp.uous motion OF
his whip, indicating my whaleb6ne
skirt; 81 won't ride with such a ma
chine as that in my wagon, 1 haven t
even room for my own feet Aad,
upon my word. that hat of youfs Is
too absurd. Go and put on a re-
spectacle sun-bonnet and look like a
girl of sense!" began 70 renon-
strate; but I'v noticed that, with these
unselfish beings, remonstranee has
the effect of strengthing them hn-
inovably in their resolutions, as soap,
which one naturally applies freely
to rub out stain, is said to fix it
more deeply. i, therefore, silently
revolved the question in my mind :
to give up the hat, and the hoops
or the drive? And not this drive
only but many successive ones; for
it's point of honor with our mahly
protectors never to forget our faults
So / went sorrowfully back and re
signed my graceful jupOn and my
ravishing little hat-a pretty straw
with velvet and field flowers, and
such a sweet capt was just the
thing for a country drive, and If
didn't mind my complexion, what
business was it of his who is never
tired of laughing at women's vanity?
L put on a wretched sun bonnet
that has hung in my wardrobe for
two years, and went down stairs,
looking SO dowdy that I didn't know
myself in the long glass in the par
lor, when ran In to take look
Ned was pleased, however, drove to,
wards D, of course, though |
asked him not, and talked yachts the
whole way, which he only does when
he is in good humor.
OF course we met everybody; but
l could have borne that, for / held
my parasol close over my face, and
nobody could recognize me. But
when we came to the farm house
where the Chats are boarding, who
should we see upon the piazza but
those young ladies themselves and
the Ratteltons! Yes; and eouldn'-
help remembering that Fred RI
ton once said to my friend "
nows, that l was the m
girl he knew. An! what ~.
think now? Ned drew up at the gaZS
Ned" l exclaimed. "drive On
quick" "Let's go in few minutes. "
No, indeed, I'm not dressed. -
"Pshaw!'' he calculated, as he sprang
gracefully out. "Give me your
hand" "NeverI" l said, with de-
cision. But alas! decision wasn't
made for women. Ned gave me a
dark look. Edward" 1 began res
olutely; but it was too late. They all
saw us, and were coming to meet us. |
Fred, indeed, was already at the gate. |
There was no help-and-oh! 1 can't
talk about it; the misery of that
morning; the walk down that long
piazza, IN my slinky muslin dress!
and my hair all tumbled with the
hateful tonnet. And those girls, |
with their cold eyes, looking at me
so! in all the complacency of their
stiff skirts, sitter than ever mine
were in their best estate, and their
smooth hair, pomaded and bando-
lined to the last degree. Do you
suppose Ned would care a straw for
them, if they weren't sty lish2 Be
cause you don't know him if you do
so. l know that Fred Rat
telton was wondering why looked
so foriornly; men never know any
thing but the effect, and the result
was, he took George Chaff to drive
that afternoon.
Ned was cross going home; and l
couldn't talk without letting him see
| could hardly keep from crying
And, during the drive in the hot sun,
my temper, which even my brothers
allow is tolerably good, was reused.
[ began to wonder whethe the dress
Of my companion offered no tempta-
ton to the same style of pleasant
banter to which / was SO unhesita
.ingly subjected? Whether, in fact,
these rakish ganders might not be
served up with the same sauce that
lad rendered the weaker geese so
spicy and enjoyable disbf Whether
hat time-honored Institution, the
beaver, might not, in sacrileglous
hands, be found to bear some pro-
portion of absurdity to our derided
hats? Whether those instruments of
torture, the boots of the modern gen.
.leman, are beyond criticism? Wheth
sr dea.h by choking is the most mer-
torious of deaths; and whether the
youth of the nineteenth century are
justified in seeking it so madiy as
hey do? And whether-oh, whether
the neglected Latin of old days at
Columbia does much more actual
in "after- life" than the
'mattering of bad French which we
acquire at those wretched-wretched
schools? Whether, in
point of fact, the education, which
We are supposed to receive at these
Institutions, does not do infinite credit
10 tha tact of the FreLeh nation, and
their perception of the general fitness
Of things? Whether an education,
more refined, more thorough, would