The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-12-14

First small boy, II wouldn't be mad at her.
Second small boy; 'Well, 1 am not mad at her.
She promised to be my girl for nickle and
gave her the nickle and she spent it, and now
she goes with Harry all the time; dog gone her."
o woman, womanl
Literary irreverence is too prevalent In this
country. Passages from Hawthorne are used to
advertise Parkers tonic; busts of Burns and By
ron serve to exhibit spectacles, and even the
Chicago Current condescends to burlesque d.
vinest Shakespeare.
The startling announcement is made that there
women who swear The English language
has always been considered free for all, and it is
very narrow minded man who would refuse
the gentle sex the use of its most expressive
CALCULATIONS in times of great excitement Any
woman who gets up to hunt the paregoric bot
tie at night and steps on a spool in her bare feet,
or knocks her ankle against the corner Of the
rocker, or gropes for the door with her hand and
finds it with her nose and does notseek some
outlet for her intense emotion in whatever good,
strong, forcible word that may come handy, is
by no means fit ''for human natures daily
food"
Although in public walks of life there has
been decline and falling off in politics as
popular topic this absorbing theme is still dis.
cussed with vigor by small boys on the back
streets Recently wayfarer one of these
districts, far from the maddng crowd of Office
seekers, observed two small boys-who are
always worth observing-in the first stages Of
pantaloons, glazing fiercely at each other from
opposite sides of the street After this pro-
longed and warlike stare, which seemed to be
mutually refreshing, one small boy began pranc-
ing wildly up and down the sidewalk yelling, in
indescribably insulting tones,
Democrats
Eats ratsl
Democrats
Eats rats!'
The young Democrat thus outraged in his
tenderest sensibilities made a violent charge
across cutters which sent the young Republican
flying into his own backyard at the rate of sixty
miles an hour. The wayfarer tarried, in the
hope of hearing the Democratic version of Re-
publican Diet but the Democrat, as usual, had
poetry in his SOUL and no verse for the occa-
sion. At latest observation the Republican
youth was still chanting, from crack of the
kitchen door: Democrats eats rats Democrats
eats ratsl"
Anna Dickinson was, in some particulars,
recent appearance here. In the first place, it
was shock to see such superior woman give
herself over to the adornments and gewgaws to
which hitherto she had seemed Indifferent The
decollete dress and the elbow-s are not in
keeping with her mental attire. neither was it
appropriate that her fervor in her noble topic,
Joan, the Maid,' should have been divided with
her interest in her satin train, in kicking it to
its proper place, at necessary intervals. The
Anna Dickinson in the plain black dress-the
woman with mo begad nonsense about her, is
more pleasing memory. Moreover, the stagi-
ness of her delivery is not an improvement on
her former manner. Her own tragic tone, with
out the scowl, the sheer, and the scornful smile
from her stage properties, would have been as
we'll received 1t was painful to witness the
contortions Of countenance, the feature gymnas-
tics which she seemed to consider necessary to
the proper interpretation of her theme. Like
the rural youth vino chung to Doodle without
the variations the writer confesses to great
and deepseated desire to hear Miss Dickinson
again, unaccompanied by either decoration or
illustration