St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1885-04-20
rosts our locks and stiffens our limbs let

MCNIAY MOHN1NQ, ALI
frosts our locks and stiffens our limbs le
us not block up the way, but say, ''we had
our good times, now let others have theirs.
AS our children come on let us cheerfully
give them our places. How glad will I be
to let them have everything house, my
books, my place in society, my heritage!
BY the time we get old we will have had
| our way long enough. Now let our chill
dren come on and we'll have it their way
For thirty, forty or fifty years we have
been drinking from
! THE CUP OF LIFE
and we ought not to complain if called to
pass the cup and let others take drink.
But, while we have right to the enjoy
ments of life, we never will countenance
| sinful indulgences. here set forth grouI
of what might be called the dissipations of
| the ballroom. In some communities these
designations continue all the year, while
! they do the chief work in summer at the
watering-places, and, therefore, the subject
| has wide application. They swing an
awful scythe of death. Are we to stand
| idly by and let the work go On, lest in the
rebuke we tread upon the long trail of some
popular vanity? The whirlpool of the
| ballroom drags down the life, the beauty
and the moral worth of cities. In this
whirlwind of imported silks goes out the
| life of many good families. Bodies and
souls innumerable are annually consumed
| in this confagration of ribbons This style of
dissipation is the abettor of pride, the in
| stigator of jealousy, the sacriticial altar of
health, the defiler Of the soul, the avenue
of lust and the curse of the town. The
tread of this wild, Intoxicating, heated
midnight dance jars all the moral hearth
stones of the city. The physical ruin is
evident, What will become of those who
work all day and dance all night? A few
years will turn them out nervous, exhausted
imbeciles. Those who have given up their
midnights to
SPICED WINES
and hot suppers and ride home through Win
ter's cold, unwrapped from the elements
will at last be recorded suicides There
is but short step from the ball
room to the graveyard. There are con-
sumptions and fierce neuralgias close on the
track Amid that glittering maze of ball
room splendorS diseases stand right and
left and balance and chain. A sepulchra
breath floats up amid the perfume, and the
froth of deaths lip bubbles up in the cham
! payne. Many OF the brightest homes are
being sacrificed. There are families that
have actually quit keeping house and gone
to boarding that they may give themselves
more exclusively to the higher duties of the
ballroom Mothers and daughters, fathers
and sons, finding their highest enjoyment
in the dance, bid farewell to books, to quiet
culture, to all the amenities of home The
father will, after while, go down into
lower designations. The son will be tossed
about in society nonentity The daughter
will elope with French dancing master
The mother. still trying to stay in the gilt
ter, and by every art attempting to keep the
color in her cheek and the wrinkles off her
brow, attempting without any success all
the arts of the belle, an old flirt, poor,
miserable butterfly without any wings.
These dissipations eXtinguish all love of
usefulness. How could you expect one to
be interested in the alleyiationS of
THE WORLDS MISERY
while there is a question to be decided
about the size of glove or the shade of a
garment? How many of these men and
women of the ballroom visit the poor or
help dress the wounds of a returned soldier
in the hospital? When did the world ever
see a perpetual dancer distributing tracts?
Such persons are turned in upon themselves.
And it is very poor pasture.
This gilded sphere is utterly bedwarfing
to intellect and soul. This constant study
Of little things; TINS hsrrassing anxiety
about dress; this talk of fashionable infini-
teSsimalS; this group that simper and look
askance at the mirrors and wonder with in
fnity of interest chow that one geranium
leaf does look;" this shrivelling up of mans
moral dignity until it is no more observable
with the naked eye; this taking of a woman's
heart that God meant should be filled with
all amenities and COMPRISING it until all
the fragrance and simplicity and artlessness
are squeezed out of it; this inquisition of
A SMALL SHOE;
this wrapping up of mind and heart in a
ruffle; this tumbling down of soul that
God meant for great uplifting. prophesy
the spiritual ruin of all participators in this
rivalry. Have the white polished, glisten-
ing boards ever been the road to heaven?
Who, at the flash OF those chandeliers, hath
kindled q torch for eternity? From the
table spreads, at the close of that excited
and besweated scene, who went home to
say his prayers?
To many, alas! this life is masquerade
ball. As, at such entertainments, gentle
men and ladies appear in the dress Of kings
or queens, mountain bandits or clowns, and
at the close of the dance throw off their dis
guises, so, many all through life move in
masks Across the floor they trip merrily.
The lights sparkle along the wall or drop
from the ceiling-a very cohort of fire! The
feet bound Gemmed hands, stretched out,
clasp gemmed hands. Dancing feet re-
spond to dancing feet. Cleaning brow
bends low to cleaning brow.
ON WITH THE DAECEl
Flash and rustic and laughter and i'm
measurable merTy-makhg! But the languor
of death comes over the limbs, and blurs
the sight Lights lower! Floor hollow
with sepulchral echo! Music saddens into
a wall. Lights lower. The maskers can
hardly now be seen. Flowers exchange
their fragrance for sickening odor, such
as comes from garlands that have lain in
vaults of cemeteries. Lights lower Mists
shaken by sullen thunder. Lights seem
caught among the curtains Scarf falls
from the shoulder of beauty-a shroudl
Lights lowerl Over the slippery boards in
dance of death, glide jealouSieS, disappoint-
ments, lust. despair. Tom leaves and
withered garlands only half hide the ul-
cered feet. The stencil OF smoking lamp
wicks almost quenched, choking damps,
chilliness. Feet still. Hands folded. Eyes
shut. Voices hushed. Lights out
cD.Nr STrTs ryrpRnvrNr