Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1880-08-29
BETWEEN OURSELVES.

Inere are not SO many homes In the Old
time sense of the word. We have larger and
finer houses with all the modern improvements,
but they are mostly abiding places, which show
how much the owner is worth, and what his
social status is or ought to be. Yet possibly
his chief association with it is that of an ex-
pensive dormitory, where he dreams of q rest
| ing place Of q simpler and more satisfying
pattern, which isn't garnished with every i'm
aginable shade of dull green paper, and dull
green furniture, and abortive gimcracks to
| match.
The house which has cost so much money is a
| constant reminder of unftness, and it is a dis
satisfaction which is apt to remain stationary,
because, before he has an opportunity to be-
come familiar with his surroundings, the fash
ion changes, and some other hues and shapes
usurp the semi-used things, which were half
broken into custom.
All this ''dislocatiop of comfort is
meant to please the world, and
It's only endured while the world is by.
American women of the leisure class generally
live in bed rooms. Except for meals and cal
lers, they are seldom to be found in any other
part of thehouse. The parlor is dark, order
ly, and reserved. No one could feel at home
in it save in the most fashionable sc nse. It
was meant to be kept in countenance only by
crowd in gay toilets, and music by the band.
Its CRATES have cenotaphs to fire in their ornate
closed fronts, and all the adjuncta of the room
proclaim with the same emphasis, that the
original bid of erection rejected the scheme of
home, as common and even vulgar supersti-
ton. To be sure, it does very well for some
people who have no social ambition, and no
expectation of getting on in society. There
must always be some pet delusion about the
roof over ones head. It has different mean
ngs to everybody. The Irishman's cabin thatch
more dear to him than the finest mansard
oof to the bloated bondholder. As he stands
evicted from its rude shelter, he is the most alb
ject, and he considers himself the most ag-
grieved of mortals.
The owner of snowy establishment which
proclaims the strength of his exchequer is splr-
itually eyicted from the roof he dreams about.
amid such a rank exhibition of dark, dull
green. He has wistful fancy that he would
like house with more reference to his
own likes and whims, than to those of society.
He has notion that homespun things, with
plenty of sunshine and light, make a
more inviting tableau than the upholster's
inspiration.
Decorative art, and all the embellishments
Of modern houses, are very well, if the owners
toned" pitch. But when vulgarity and bad
grammar 60 up and down the grand staircase
every day, and live in slipshod negligence of
the claims they expect to be valid with the
world, there it is a somewhat ridiculous dis
crepancy, which the invidious and the satirist
are not slow to illustrate. The worst incongru-
ity, however, is that between the heart of man
| covertly longing for home, and yet living in
show place, where the best and costliest
social triumphs. The family too, pass their
time in sleeping rooms, and there is a tacit
avoidance of the palatial part of the house.
The head of it knows that the whole scheme of
| sumptuous shelter is q mistake, but he wisely
holds his peace, and pays the bills for the dec
orative setting Which makes them all uncom-
Portable. and even ridiculous.
There is wealth-there is success which
| imposerishes the recipient. When the setting
is too much for them and the position gener-
GUS blunder of Fate, and likewise also its cruel
est irony. When the shallow wife of an ex-
| governor-the feeblest we ever had, refuses to
90 to Lake Elmo lest woman of brain should
be invited, the unfitness of the lady for her
former position borders on imbecility; and, like
! George w., when he wondered how the apple
got in the dumpling-you wonder how she ever
got there. If such feeble intellect could be
spoiled, that brief squirt Of gubernatorial glory
has unhinged the dame for the rest of her weak
career.
Moliere had 2 practice of submitting
his plays to an old household servant for her
approval before they should be given to the
world.
/ Perhaps the ex.governor's consort ought to
| submit her visiting list to her servant girl,
| because the domestic might be able from pre-
! vious contact with her betters, to exhibit good
| judgment and discrimination in the selection.
Yea, surely, the incongruities fortune illus
trates oftentimes with its apparent pets, are
bewildering. A man with a big and elegant
house is regarded as lucky when he has all the
superficial concomitants to make it enjoyable.
BE may have the while his own secret grudge
against the dispensation which has withheld
| the essential charm of his ideal home. He
values most what he has not, and when his
! course is nearly spent, he yearns for what was
| seemingly SO inexpensive, and always within
his reach, that the shallow laugh at his expe-
rience, regarding it as evitable. Perhaps the
| unfulflled longing was necessary, to give the
precipitation of deep feeling, or
the philosophic indifference OF fatalism,
which will not investigate its environment,
whether it be the domestic roof tree, or the
''braye Ger hanging armament"
yespasian preferred his early humble home
near Reale, to the imperial splendor of Rome,
and Charles v, on the way to the cloister of
st. Juste, tarried in Client to renew his youth
full memories. Such men assimilate their his
torical character, and work the great springs at
will; but there is an individuality which stands
as much apart from the public career as the
painter does from his canvas. In this they are
generally human. Public life may be lofty,
and powerfully impress the thought. but il
cannot ELL the mind to the exclusion of domes-
tic privileges.
Where these are lacking there is an unspoken
discontent. Sometimes those who feel keenly