The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1874-02-26
THE DEAR DEPARTED.


see theremorseless reaper every year cut
down the gaudiest and most PROMISING
flowers What chasms are left in ting
ranks-what suggestive lifts, as, spring
and fall, the brightest, loveliest of them
drop away from society into the asceti-
cism Of matrimony | Icannot but regard
with a pale melancholy these reo,Irrent
fleets fitting out so luxuriously-tossing
themselves so saacily In home harl0ors-
sailing about in all the pride and emu
lation of conscious beauty, preparatory
to the great regatta of life-because 1
see. every year the sauciest, fastest, no
blest of them all, after a season of
Irritation, sail off dreamily enough, and
go into dull basins and massive docks,
where they are laid up forever NOR,
surrounded by a swarm of domestic
steVedores and insurance men-giyen |
over irretrievably to masters who do /
not regard life in the light of regattas /
at all. And the leaden conviction set
ties upon me that marriage is, after all, |
the hidden goal-the m@lstrom which |
will swallow up every one of our Orna- |
ments ruthlessly Those delightful |
creatures who are the charm of our even |
ing parties, our soirees, our receptions, |
our tete-G-tetes, our rehearsals, our Pic |
MICS, and our vacations, who dance and
sing subdued admiration of us, and who
are all bellies, each in particular set,
carry with them a doom that is hidden.
The radiance, the mirth, the beauty,
fellowship, and that happy freedom Of
candor which makes them all enjoyable
companions, will be suddenly snuffed
out, and they themselves, will go away
into TIE utter darkness of private estab
lishments of their own. It's sorrowful
to think of, because as Chamfort says,
love is more pleasing than matrimony,
just as a romance is more pleasing than
history.
To get bird's-eye view of the pain
full drama, one must step out of the de-
licious haunts-bid the dear creatures
goodbye, and go away for five or six
years, and then come back as suddenly.
He thinks of the sumptuous Olive that
he left ballroom Juno with commu-
nifty of satel ties all nobly mad in her
| service, and he expects to re.enter her
| kingdom again. He looks for the dash
| ing Grace, who was the focus of lorng-
nettes, the instigator and dispenser of
wit for Lucille, who counted her ad-
mirers by their titles and for the bevy
of black and blue-eyed madcaps with
whom he exchanged secrets and vows,
and drank spa-water-and what does he,
| find? Olive married a Methodist
preacher, and went to Illinois. Grace
| is at a small, but respectable boarding
! house, and when she goes out is accom-
| panied by a small chariot of pink cloak
| and pinker face. Lucille is shut up in
a brown stone blstile-married an aged
sons and the bevy of black and blue
| eyed sirens are distributed around
among poor but honest fellows, who
hedge them in with solicitude-aye,
| and the whole brood of impairment
minxes he left trundling hoops and car
rying books, are up in the bathrooms
polking and mazurking, and ready
poor things-to go through the same
| ordeal. a
Those who have departed this life of
folly and entered the martial heaven
have no longer any hours to throw away
| in our yachts, they snub our drill-rOoms,
they laugh derisively at our hops, they
will none of our chOwder, they pass rs
in promenade with an assumption of
new dignity-that extra inch of mat
| ronly altitude which would be magnif-
cent if it were not bounded by hus-
band. Some of them will not ask us
to their rooms. All = rooms my dear
fellow, how sad They know we asso-
ciated them with palaces, and called
them princesses repeatedly, and they
feel the grotesquerie, the delicay OF
meeting us on the third floor, among
cradles and sewing machines, and a
balsamic cloud of dinner, that has
tainted their once delicate fingers.
Some of them, it is true, assume a bra
vado that is positively thrilling, and go
through an interview with prodigious
outlay of heroism us to
John without ever caring to remember
that they were pledged in the rosy long
ago to the most ethereal of Adolphs,
and ask us TO a dinner of corn beef and
cabbage with utter disregard of the old
protestations over oysters that were not
Shrewsbury and champagne that was
not iced.
Call to mind the beautiful develop.
ment OF character on the old occasions.
when each beauty unfolded an original
trait or grace of her own. Celia was
mirthful to madness-that happy, every
day madness of pure girl Irene
was proud, and Madeline was ambi-
uous. OF what avail was our silly
study Of these characters then-how RI
diculous our prosphesyiDg for the dear
creatures have merged themselves into
other characters-lost all the sharp
identity that pleased us. Celia is
solemn and frigid, because her husband
is pastor over a solemn congregation.
Irene is the pink of humility, for she
has got nothing to be proud of and
Madeline has learned from her worthy
tutor that contented mind is a con-
tinual feast. And so with the rest.
Even the modest little AIaud-whom
we all patronized, and who never ex-
actly merged nto full fashion, owing
to the decayed prospects of the family
gone to Europe with her husband.
They never say she is wealthy without
adding Immensely"
1t is fearfully perilous thing to cast
the horoscope of a young woman. They
all stand on slippery places. The world
has an eager NAV for them, and will
not let them frolic in the waves of New
port nor float in may circles at the
academy many summers IN succession.
One by one they drop the hoyden mask,
take mp their duties, and then we see
them no more. So thin a partition is
for them between the glare of life aud
the shades of Oblivion. Many of them,
alas give no the empire of home and
the sunny dreams of their youth, for
anxiety, abuse and poverty; but there
is no longer any opportunity for tine gal
liant assistance which We were won't to
tender them in days gone by. They
accept fate not only patiently, but have
n sexual way OF glorying in it that we
cannot understand. There's Madge--a
Venus but two years back never seen
outside of gayety, and always queen.
| We used to think il fortunate to touch
the hem Of her dress on such occasions,
so packed away was she with courtiers.
/ Cheney and found her out in anar-
/ row street-she had thrown herself away
/ on a spOrtive youth, whose funds and
prospects we're serial. Chesney accoun-
ted her drab-and, in truth, it was ter
rible. She who had floated, we might
say, on adulation, 10 be trying to earn a
livelihood, or at least 20 exc il out, with
her white taper fingers. But If Ches-
ney or he'd undertaken TO play the be
nignant fairy, and said " Ny dear
madam, for old acquaintance sake, let
me assist you, she would have assumed
the demeanor of Ristori or Rachel, and
-" Sir-rr NV husband is capable, {"
etc. IN fact, with these dear departed
ones we OF eormeS days are interdicted
They seem 20 regard ms as forming part
1 of their own Tiaear1r1 fgllV