New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1874-06-27
lime ROSES.


ANYBODY would write down Polly rose.
All of her pretty, shy, pink-hnted kinsfolk.
haIf-chil,lren, half women, have been con-
fused in the minds of men with roses since
the days when the mightiest of kings was
conquered by one of them, and wrote to her
the Iove-song of the world-which is Solo
mon's-until now. Young Potts followed his
Polly out of town weeks ago, and hangs about
the yerandas of her fathers country house
every night long after she is asleep. There
is an odd tug at his little heart under his neat
little waistcoat. He has quite forgotten that she
would bring half million into the business
il she marries him she is nothing TO MN Dus
an innocent girl that he loves-a rare, mystic
ri0us creature, full of unawakened emotion
and RAPTURE as the bud of this white Cham
pigny of perfume. Josh the stable-bOy at
the back of the villa, in an appalling display
Of white shirt-frOnt and blackened shoes.
watches his Polly meanwhile through the
pantry window, and when she has done with
skimming the milk, it is Potts's fever that
burns in his veins as her upturned nose and
cherry lips peep out through the climbing
vines. Horses, curry combs, and oats fade
out of his mind his world for that glorfed
laughing woman and red, sweet roses.
Every man, some time in his life, has known
the fever, and as June comes round every year
these sweetbreathed soft-eyed Pollies, as they
have done since time begun, deck themselves
in costly lace or fresh calico and walt In
drawing ROOM, or kitchen. or behind shop
counters. They know their day has come;
there is stir, and warmth, and fiutter among
them, such as passes over the roses in the
garden white, or pale pink, or carmIne. In
spite of currency bills and reciprocity treaties,
and the crises into which the country is going,
we all know that it is Polly and her class who
have the upper hand in affairs just now. Gov
eminent and trade and stock gambling must
stand still for a month or two that we may
all post down to the Branch or to the noun
tains to watch them drive in all their pretty
finery along the beach, or go climbing with
absurd alpenstocks or hirt and blush and
chatter in shady corners, bringing US back.
whatever they do, to belief in youth and
simple goodness again. The oldest, crustiest
fellow is willing to break up home and busi-
ness once a year, and allow himself to be
dragged through the heat and discomfort OF
watering places, hops and picnics. to give his
little girl chance OF pleasure and love and
marriage with other women. For the juno
vacation is all this to Polly; and she knows
it, Nor is she a whit less innocent or tender
because she does know it.
All of ds know how certain estmable and
courageous women have opened up the way
for their sex into honorable careers shown
them how to work and to conquer success in
work. The matter has been dinned with such
persistence into the ear of the public for
years that everybody has clear idea of her
abilities and disabilities in the most trivial
point. Lately. what with Doctor Clarke and
his antagonists, her physical weaknesses have
suficed as matter for argument and lamenta-
ton, until an English authority last week
made the startling announcement that the
female of the American race was doomed
"to early decay, which was arrested
"only in those colleges where, by
"mental competition with men, their vital
"powers were strengthened and renewed"
All these things are true of certain class
who write and speak of themselves as the
American Woman. But they are not Polly.
They may ignore, but they cannot bot Polly
out Of the world any more than the countless
roses that fill the air with fragrance or the
| swarms of bees whose soft hum goes to make
up the Summer day. Polly has heard of Vas
sar, has her own work, perhaps her own little
shril opinions on suffrage or politics But
| the roses red leaves were made to coax heat
| and light on to the tiny seeds which she
nurses and when they are ripe she wihers
and falls off contentedly. And Polly was made
to be wife and mother and wherever she is to-
| day, New York heiress in diamonds and lace, or
Georgia beauty, gay in dyed homespun at camp
meeting, her bushes and shy glances are meant
to win her o husband and home. where she
may some day bring up happy children. When
she has done that she will willingly wither
away in the chimney corner, without thought
of a vote OF office for herself. These sweet
love-making unprogressive swarms may be
lamentable fact but here are the roses and
here is Polly. We must make the best OF both.
The shortest way is perhaps to urge Polly To
make the best of herself There are women
like roses, with worm in the bud; we are
in no humOr in this pleasant Summer weather
to point neral from their history. But Poiiy,
whose breath and temper keep the air clean ana
sweet about her as any fair growing flower,
whose simple beauty answers It's own GOOD
end in her life, and who in old age bears tho
FAINT SAVIOR and fragrance of her youths dear
charms is a rose which after all the world
could i'll spare.