Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1872-08-22
SUCH is LIFE.
An Old COIOneI's story of Two New
port women.


The Newport correspondent of Bos.
ton paper tells this story-which may OF
may not be true, but is good reading for
a summer evening: aE
The piazza Of a seaside hotel is the
place to study human nature, and to
amuse one self in a quiet, cynical way.
l have derived much enjoymentin this
direction from the remarks of queer
old gentleman / have, met here, and
who seems to have taken quite fancy
to me. He is ine,l military looking
man, tall, with iron-gray hair and grizzly
mustache; knows everybody, and seems
thoroughly at home here; but if some Of
these stylish people could but know how
he lets daylight into their history and
actions, and how merclessly he ridicules
their assumptions, they would have good
cause to hate and fear them.
Last evening, while smoking our after
supper cigar on the veranda, my atten'
ton was called by the old gentleman s
bowing to a pair of young ladies who
swept by, arms around each others
waists, in all the elegance and dazzle oi
full dress. One was q blonde of the
purest type, petite, golden-haired, with
a complexion like alabaster, and perfect
features; the other, tall, naughty bru-
nette, whom piquant best described.
made some remark about their attrac.
tiveness. "Yes," returned the old sol
dier, pretty, graceful, and one of them
rich, but no more heart to either OF
them than to toy balloon. Are
-. - ...4o., +kan0p aolyad 81 0h
no, and their being here together puz-
zles me, for they have always been rivals
and enemies. You saw how lovingly
they held each other as they passed.
Well, that's woman's style the world
over. They are simply friends pro tenn,
for purpose-probably making COM
mon cause against some Of the fair sex.
Five years ago that tall one was en-
gagged to a young fellow from st. Louis
her parents choice. / always liked
and pitied him, for he was a good fellow,
though rather. soft aud nerveless. lie
thought, his eyes of her, and she
played with him and loved another man,
with whom she had clandestine meet
ings. To her afiianced she was by turns
cold, loving, cruel and indiffcrent-and
it broke his heart. 1t did really for
when she broke off the engagement, and
as she did of course, despite her parents
prayers and entreaties, when the other
man was fairly ensnared, he Just went
into quick consumption and died.
did she marry the other? asked.
Eyes, three years ago, and is reasona-
bly, fond of him, | believe. But the
other, her little blonde companion, and
sort of cousin, | believe, has a stranger
history STILL -Four years ago when she
was sixteen, she fell in with poor
young fellow, of two years more exis
tence, but no more sense. They loved
according to the novels, wildly, madly
passionately, u and life seemed insup
portable when separated. But circum
stances and her father removal to the
West, seemed about to sever them, when
an elopement, secret marriage and a
prompt confession, and the orthodox
BLESS you, my children, cut the Cor.
dian knot. They lived like babies a
year on her fathers bounty, when they
discovered they did not love each other
SO madly, etc., as they thought, and a
divorce left them free to seek other
mates. He has already got one; she is
here on the war-path, as you see, and
such is life im
The old Colonel bade me good night
here, and l walked over to the window
of private parlor whence issued strains
of music. Here half dozen of the
jeunesse doree had a cabinet piano, a
fruit and champaign lunch, and, inside,
several interested spectators, one waiter
included, outside. One Of young ladies
was singing "Ah mon fils," from the
Prophet" with a voice and method
that would grace the lyric stage, and the
gay scene in the room was but another
phase Of hotel life in the city by the sea.