The Morristown gazette. [volume] (Morristown, Tenn.) 1867-1920, 1882-11-15
TIRED OUT.

Everybody has has the same
complaint.
Everybody is tired out.
No energy, no ambition, no life,
no anything.
1t is a luxury to meet with per
son who does not say anything about
bis liver, or his nerves, or his cat
arrh, and the age his grandmother
died at
Women, especially, are tried out
You can't find one who has energy
edough to make her husband a
shirt, or tend her baby without a
nurse maid, but there are good
many with endurance enough left
TO take care of a couple of lap dogs
and a poll-parrot.
When we look around us and see
how things are managed, and how
the lives of our friends are ordered,
we are not surprised that vitality is
thing of the past. 1t is a dread
full tough job to live nowadays, and
do it as our friends expect US to
do it.
The wife and mother of family
must keep herself young, and she
must dye her hair when II gets gray,
and pull out the hairs on her upper
lip when they threaten to develop
into a moustache, and she must
paint, and powder, and crimp, and
wear tight shoes, and, tight corsets,
and hounces, and rutfles, and
plaitings, and she must dress her
children fit for the ballroom every
day, because Mrs. Judge Cushing
dresses hers in that way; and she
must have n large house full Of fine
furniture and artistic decorations,
aud she must paint plaques, and all
the daughters must paint plaques,
and do kensington stitch, and make
sunflower tides, and ottOmans, and
screens, and things by the score, to
set up and be everybodys way, and
a nuisance generally. And there
must be a conservatory, and an
apiary, and some gold fishes, and
several pots of ferns to keep in order
and stumble over, and all the boys
must have velocipedes, and rocking
horses, and pointer dogs, to see to;
and all the girls must have organs,
and pianos, and saddle horses, and
new dresses for every ball, and new
jewelry for every party.
And there must be dinners, and
teas, and garden parties, and COM
pany every evening, and n trip to
Saratoga or Long Branch and the
mountains every summer, and a
trip to Florida every winter; and
trip to Europe sanwiched between,
every two or three years, and new
outfits for everything. =
No wonder people are tired.
No wonder nerves arc not what
they used to be.
No wonder we die before we live
out bali our days.
As n nation, we are rushing our
selves to death trying to be happy
and fashionable. We rush along at
high pressure. We have just as
many balls and parties to get
through with this week just as
many trips and excursions to make
this month And so many things
to be got ready for each occasions
Things" are the curse of modern
existence Why is it that we must
have new things TO go somewhere
when one has already so many
LII. 49, -, 1-,,o.,,-s .,nf ,rbof -
do with them? Why should sensi- !
bic women act as if the whole fate
of the universe depended on how
many rows of shirring they had in
an overskirt? A
Life is all hurry. We hurry
through one thing to get to another.
We want to crowd all we can into
our life-tinae. We turn night into
day, and dance and fiirt away the
hours for sleep, aud we drink wines
and strong tea and coffee, to "bracc
mp our nerves" and we eat late
suppers, and we live in hot rooms,
and we wear poisonous face powder,
and murderous eorscts, and shoes
which gives us untold agony, and
we die at thirty, and our friends put
mp tOmbstOnes with symbols OF
broken lilies. etc, and inscriptions
which ignify that "God called us"
instead, if the truth were
told, out t0mbstones should bear the
legend "Died of too much dancing,
too much dissipation, and too much |
~ T. Weekly. -