The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1873-06-05
u PIP E r 7 E N DO M
Eli Perkins on shoddy People--He
Mourns Because He is Not Rich.


ITO the Editor OF the Daily Graphic.
Last night l made a fashionable call
on fashionable young lady-not one of
your intellectual young ladies, who is all
brains and literature, and who is cup" in
art and travel and music, but one of oar
real "swelP girls, who dotes on good
clothes, on her Clique, as they call it.,
keeps Spanish poodle, parts her hair
on the side, wears four-inch Elizabeth
an ruffie; hair dyed yellow, put up with
high backed comb, and her face powder
ed with pearl powder, speckled with
black court-plaster. My dear Julia sat
under the mild light OF an opal shade,
famed herself with twenty-inch Jap
anese fan, and discoursed-oh, so sweet
lyI By her side was Eugene Augustus
Livingstone, of the Jockey Club. She
told me everything-how the Browns had
sailed for Paris; how the lace on Mrs
Fuller's dress cost $3000 how Mrs.
Jones had a new Twenty-ifth street
Brewster landaulet; how Mrs. Beecher
had been flirting with Lloyd Phoenix.
and Mr.. Beecher was getting a divorce !;
how all the girls were going up to
Thomas concerts, and"
els Thomas going to give Ninth
Symphony ?" 1 asked.
ooh, yes; he's going to give them all
the ninth and tenth and won't they
be jolly nicer"
SIS he going to give the Symphony in
d minor p
''Oh, nao not in Deminer, but in
Central Park Garden; too lovely, amt
it?"
''How did you like the Church Musi-
Gals, Livingstone?" | asked.
go, they're beastly-perfectly beastly
They make one so con-
founded sleepy that yeou kon't keep
awake yeou kneuw-dre'ful bore, DIRE
full !"
"And the Jockey Club Races ?" l con-
tinued.
90, they're going to be divine. We
alters go ev'ry day-kon't help it, yeou
kneuw, and this year Mr.. Traverse and
Sothern, and Mr.. Jerome, and Jay
Gould, they say, are going to ride in the
steeple chase. Ha, Ha! won't that be
jolly nice ?"
''What book are you reading now,
Miss Julia ?" l asked, delighted to be
able to converse with literary young
lady.
80, am running over one of Dumas
awful bores though, amt they? Dre'ful
stupid !"
''Shall you read Never Again."
&C 'Never again !? l should hope so-a
good many times again. How sarcastic
you are-perfectly atrocious J"
''But speaking of intellectual feasts,
Miss Julia, how do you like the genial
Lamb?"
go, lamb-the tender lamb-lamb and
green peas They're too lovely, and
sweetbread and asparagus, and"
''And the philosophical Bacon, on
which the houngry souls of England
have fed for almost century 7"
Eyes, that lovely English bacon |!
don't mention it, Mr. Perkins? A rasher
of that English bacon with English
breakfast tea, AID -"
And so Julia ratified on. | was de-
lighted. I wanted to stay and talk with
Augustus and Julia forever-wanted to
sit at the fountain of wisdom to drink in
a perpetual flow of SOUL and to feast on
reason. l loved to hear her discourse
upon the deep philosophy of safeguarding
the hair-its chigue (the new demi-mOnde
can't word), and to roam with her through
classic shades of pannierdom, and belt
and buckledom.
Eugene Augustus now invited Julia
to treat us to music-''some lovely gem
culled from-from what the Dickens is
the opera by-by the fairy-fngered
cNhat's-his name, you know"
''Do, Miss Julia, do sing us that divine
song about the moon-do'" pleaded Au-
gustus.
Then Julia firted up her janniers be-
hind, coquettishly wiggle-wagged to the
piano, and sang:
When the moo-hoou is mi-hild-lY beam-ing
Ger Their ca-halm and si-hi-lent se-e-e-a,
It's ra -dyunce so so-hOft-ly stree-h canning
Oh, ther-hen, oh, theT-hen
/ thee-think
Hof thee-hee
| thee-hink
| thee-hink
l thee he-he-hehehehe-hink, hof theeeeeee
Beautiful, Miss Julia Beautiful" !! !
and we all clapped our hands.
''Do please sing another verse-its
perfectly divine, Miss julia" said Eu-
gene Augustus.
Then Julia raised her golden dyed
head, touched the white ivory with hel
jewelled fingers, and warbled
When the sur-hun is brigh- hi-hight-ly
glowing
Ger the so-hene so dear-hear to niece,
And swee- heat the wee-hind is blo-ho- hoine
Oh, ther-hen, Oh. ther-hen
/ thee-hink
Hot thee-h ee,
thee-hink
thee-hink
/ thee-he-he- hehehehehehe-h ink hohohohC
hohohohoho b. of theeeeeeeeeeeee y!
Beautiful Just too lovely !"
AS Julia finished the last tstheeeee'
her father, who grew up from an ofic'
boy to be great dry goods merchant
entered. He'd been out to an auction
buying some. genuine copies of works O
art by the old masters.
''I tell yer what, says he, 'tthen
Raffelb is good an Mikel Angelo b,
could paint. toe-he-"