Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1871-01-13
ParlOrs.


my hearty leave to have them, pro-
vidcd she does not insist upon my
following her example. l was once
bitten by the same mania. | recol-
lect the temptation came in the
shape of an exquisite fern leaf pat
tern. SO | bought them and hung
them up, and everybody said, "What
pretty idea!" But every time |
went near the window they were
dragging across my hair or nose,
and, worse still, interfering with my
idolized plants. SO l was not sorry
when, upon having them "done up"
to find they were done for, and had
come to pieces. Since then my
ivies, and geraniums, and roses have
had all the light and sunshine they
wanted, and weave prettier curtains
for me than any ambitious uphol-
sterer could do.
Dirty plantsn' l think l hear
some housekeeper cxclaim-''dirty
plants. spelling the carpet, and al
ways making litter with dead
leaves, and necessitating the great
blazing sun to stare unwinkingly in,
whether one is looking becomingly
or not. AS to the latter, cheerful
ness, and brightness seem to me the
most potent cosmetics. and gra-
cious welcome of more importance
than the latest style of skirt, or hair,
or trimming.
Sometimes | have gone into such
hearse-ike parlors that my very
blood chilled at their uninviting,
upholstery stiffness. | had as lief
sit down in furniture shop, and
a great deal rather, because that has
its own honest designation. "A spar
lor" to me, should speak OF individ-
ualitv. Because Mrs. Jones fancies
great erockcry vases as big as one
of her children, must | buy a pair?
Because she likes artificial roses on
her manteI, may | not have, instead,
sweet tuberose stalk, with a bit Of
heliotropc and mignonnette in my
little vase?
Because her children may never
enter the stiff, sacred parlor, with
its stereotvped chairs and lounges,
repeated in every house in the block,
may not my pets one-eyed doll lie
on the sofa in mine, il she chooses
to ''put it to sleep there's" and so
make me glad that there is little
child in my house who is not ban
ishcd to the nursery because my
parlor is too fine? Because Mrs.
Jones keeps her rooms so dark that
YOU enter them with dread of a
broken ankle from some fatal mis-
step, may lfot rejoice in the faded
roses in the carpet under my feet,
where there are no such pitfalls for
my guests.
| confess to liking honey par
lor-one that looks as if it were
used; with workbasket here, and
book with a folder between the
leaves there, and a shawl that some
body had on minute ago, lying in
a cozv corner of the sofa. | like
chuirs expressive of individuality,
shaped to the backs Of their users,
from the good man of the house
down to the little tairy's, which is
sure to get wicked little twist in
its legs. Pictures of course, and an
open fire, too, if it be winter. And,
oh, may the gods grant pure venti-
lation. Oh, what Il dead, used-up
air sends you staggering back at
some parlor thresholds! And how
blissfully unconscious are its occu-
pants mhy their cheeks are so flush
ed and their eyes so heavy! How
you long to say, ''For Heavens sake
good friends, open crack at the
| top of your window!' And how you
don't, but sit there until you look as
stupefed as themselves, and make
your call as short as possible, that
you may escape to the outdoor air.
Statues are not to be despised in
a parlor; but the hardworking me-
chanic has as beautiful a statue as
all your money could buy, when his
little curly-headed child climbs up
in the chair, at the window, "to
watch for papa like to see this
bit of poetry woven into his hard
life, when, with box of tools in bis
hand, he passes the rich man going
to luxurious home. 1t is one of
the poems am tondest of reading
as | stroll at the days close.
FANNY FERN.