Daily globe., 1879-06-01
QUEER LOVE MATCHES.
Correspondence Of the Boston Herald.

Correspondence Of the Boston Herald
The recent marriage of that champion
woman's-rights-woman, Julia Smith Of
Glastonbury, is another striking proof
that wonders never cease. Whe would
have thought it? How could she do it?
Why did she do it? How was it brought
about? Was it "a love match? or mar
riage de cOnvenance? or was she drago0n-
ed into it? or are bride and groom both
crazy? If they wished to be together
companions at the very foot of life's hill
could itnot, without scandal, have been
arranged otherwise? Was it necessary that
she should give up her independence.
bind herself hand and foot, soul and BODY
to the monster she has resisted and
fought these many, many years? When
such an old champion of the great cause
thus throws up her hand and acknowl-
edges herself beaten, where are we to turn
with faith and confdence2 Representa-
ives of wronged and oppressed women,
where are your swords and bucklers?
Where your armo1 Of triple steele Susan
B. Anthony, answer us. Alas, our con-
fidcnce even in Susan is shaken now.
And thus has our Glastonbury sister
| thrown our ranks into disorder, sown
suspicion and distrust in the hearts Of
| our friends and made our enemies to
laugh in triumph.
But there is this much comfort. The
300, 900 q believe that is the number) in
excess of unmarried women over unmar-
ried men in New England, may take
heart, lift up their heads and rejoice with
good show Of reason, for they see plainly
enough that, while there is life there is
hope. Better is it to be bride of 81
than never bride at all. Old-maids.
erase the term from the calendar 1t has
no longer place anywhere. There are
no old maids. And this much of graft
tude do we owe to Glastonbury Julia. So,
bless the aged turtle-doves! May they be
happy!
have known the parties to two such
marriages, and believe there were no
after regrets in either case. In one the
bride was an old Westchester aunty,
everybody had called her Aunt Debby for
40 years, who lived all alone in snug
| little house of her own, with nothing to
do but nurse her rheumatism and talk to
her cat. Her income was barely enough
to supply her own and Tabby's simple
needs. Seventy-fve years you see she
was young girl, as it were, compared to
our Sister Smith-had passed over hel
head, leaving their traces in snowy locks
and wrinkled cheeks and totterlng limbs
With her meagre form enveloped in q
quilted gown, and her head wrapped ir
) red flannel, she was apparently an i'm
possible target for Cupid's arrows, anG
as she seldom left even her upstairs room
, what chance had the miserable sly little
God? None whatever, you will answer
Rash mortal, do you forget that fat
reaches us by the most unexpected paths
Aunt Debby's came through leak in til,
roof. It was directly over her room ant
6 she had an attack of rheuma
tism and couldn't be moved. 4
carpenter was sent for. He came, a tall
stalwart, good-looking young fellow 0
r 25. He mended the roof, and then Aun
Debby thought he might just as vel
: tighten her window sashes, and then sh
remembered two or three other little job
about the house she wanted done.
think he was there altogether about
: week. How it was managed, or VIII
4 spoke first, syou nor I, nor anybod
knows" but poor old Aunt Debby'
friends were terrified one morning t
!. hear that she was married, actually an
e really, quilted wrapper, red flannel tu1
ban and all, to the young carpenter. Hi
temptation was, doubtless, the snug littl
house-the house, in fact, for he was al
e alone in the world; hers only, imagine
a sudden fancy to have an especial clair
l on somebody. A year afterward she OF
y served to me: "My dear, never knev
what happiness was BEFORE
A month later and the husband was
u widower, and sole heir to the little Aur
q Debby had to leave.
The other case was that of a ridiculou
is old colored brother, away down Soutl
so old and infirm that he could onl
y crawl around in sunny weather. wa
much surprised one day by receivin
y from him modest request to make him
wedding cake, as he was going to b
9 married to Aunt Silvy, almost as old {
himself, who had done his little bit {
1t housekeeping for some time.
"Why, Primis!" l exclaimed, ''what
the world do you want to get marie
20 for?''
swell, you see, missus, !" he replied, :
has two fust-rate reasons. One is, dat {
- neighbors might begin to talk curou
j seein' silvy working round my hous
and me widderer, and would wish
he spare Silvy's repertation. Its my doot
to spare it. Then again, now, / has to pa
a Silvy for every trifing thing she does f;
me; wharas, if marry her, she's got
es do all my cooking and washin' and wasl
!. in and mendin', and at the end of Il
- year kin give her caliker dress ar
she's satisfied
dis The reasoning was conclusive, and
- said no more.
- In the pretty palace Of the Elys
ut Bourbon, occupied by Louis Napolet
before the coup d'etat which obliged hi
;. to move to grander quarters in the Tuil
% ries, there was one room decorated wi
dy portraits Of the first Napoleon's favori
staff officers. The first time l visited t
ey room stood long time before POI
rait named in the catalogue as that
nd IN. Bernhard, physician-in-chief duril
the two consulates and until after the b.
an tie of Austerlitz, aged one hundr
: . years." But for the statement, I wou
have said the portrait was that of j
markably we'll l-preserved man Of Is. T
Ter face was full, the color good, wrinkl
am few, the eyes full of intelligence, and,
- :" fact, none of the marks Of extreme c
ak [age apparent in the least. When I
turned to my hotel, l spoke Of the pictr
to my landlady.
ssCome with me,' she said, ssthis aft
noon, to Ivry, where he died, and wh'
one Of his daughters still lives, and y
nd shall hear his history from her.