Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1883-06-06
NOT A SUCCESS.

"Dear me-" said Mrs. Heatherly
"some folks do have all the luck,
thought when my Cousin Speakwell
was appointed assistant bishop of the
Cranberry Swamp diocese, that it was
quite social distinction. But here's
Helen JoneS's uncle been put up for
Chinese ambassador. And | suppose
she'll get all her tea and chcssmen for
nothing now, besides the credit of the
thing"
And Mrs, IIcatherley actually burst
into tears.
From the very first moment of her
arrival in Cherry hill, Mrs. Jones had
been her rival. If she decorated her
parlorS in lotus-cavcS and cat-tailS
Mrs Jones Immediately ordered an
artist from Philadelphia to paint her
ceilings in peacock-plumes and half
open sunflower buds. If she gave a
light tea, Mrs. Jones followed with a
full-hedged dinner-party. If she had
fancy masquerade-party, Mrs. Jones
issued cards for private theatricals.
And now the glories Of the assistant
bishopric were entirely eclipsed by the
ambassador to China.
Mrs. Jones ordered her white ponies
and basket-phaeton, and drove in state
through Cherry hill, to invite all her
friends and acquaintance to an even
ing reception.
"To meet my uncle" she said, gra.
ciously, before he sails for China"
For Mrs. Jones. albeit she never had
seen her Uncle John Jones, was seized.
all of a sudden, with the most alrec-
tionate devotion for him, and tele-
graphed him to come at once to Cherry
hill. And the letter which followed
was full of niece-like devotion.
"I have always elt," she sad, "that it was n
cruel deprivation to see so little of my hus.
bands relations And now that we are so
soon to lose you, must insist on at least one
visit. We have some charming people in
Cherry hill, who would esteem it privilege
to make your acquaintance. We shall meet
you, without fail, at the sixiorty train from
Philadelphia, on Wednesday next"
Mr.. Jones, a blunt, bullet-headed
man, who was in the drug business,
scratched his nose when he heard of
his wife's prowess.
ats all puzzle to me-" said he.
"Uncle John never had any brains"
"Dear me" said Mrs. Jones, "what
brains are needed to be Chinese am
bassador? It's all political influence
and wire-pulling, don't you see?"
"Well," said Mr.. Jones, there's
something in that. remember Uncle
John being president of a Polk and
Dallas club, for years ago, or 50, in the
village. And he manufactured torch
lights for the political professions, and
had a very good voice for a hurrah.
What puzzles me, however, is what on
earth he will think Of our getting so
very affectionate all of a sudden, after
neglecting him for all these years"
"No matter what he thinks" said
Mrs. Jones, briskly. I'll soon bring
him around. Only ambassador
to China! What will Mrs. IIeatherley
say? You must telegraph at once for
plenty of pates de foie gras and cold,
potted game. And I'll have the two
colored walters from the hotel. Mary
Ann is very well in her way, but she
will need additional help on an occa-
sion like this. | shall ask Ex-Governor
Philipstarbaugh and his wife-they
are visiting the Whites; and an es-
pecial card shall be sent to that stupid,
old assistant bishop that Charlotte
IIeatherley boasts 50 much about. Mr..
Chimelield, the poet, is in town also
and | shall beg Miss Bulllley to bring
her violin and give us one of those
sweet Scandinavian Dreams that she
improvises so sweetly. Let me see,
there will be about sixty people here,
unless l receive more regrets than /
at present anticipate"
Sixty people, eh?" repeated Mr.
Jones. "Aint that considerable of a
blowout, Fanny? We haven't settled
Spagnette's bill for that last tea-fght,
you must remember"
"Tea-fght! Blowout" Mrs. Jones
repeated, in infinite disgust. "Peter,
] haven't any patience to hear you use
those odious, vulgar expressions. How
are Ethel and Constantia to get mar
ried, I'd like to know, if the dear girls