St. Paul daily globe., 1888-08-19
EYES AND EARS.
A Prophetic One couldn't help
wondering at the
Squint. Democratic convention

women will assemble in Market hall.
How odd it will be to see two or three
men sneaking into seat behind the
scenes, feeling awfully out of place, but
curious and reverential in the presence
iof so much intellect! One caught him.
self trying to fancy how it would sound
to hear. instead Of the loud and lusty
tic, hIgh-pitched squeak of women's.
One sought to picture woman
wearing MIKE GoRAN's beatific smile.
passing down the aisle with the crowd
cheering, and one couldn't help believ-
ing that when the Kisses commence the
coming Miss MICHAEL DORAN will fling
herself around and spit out, "You
nasty thing.', When CHRIS O'BRIEN
stood up with a bandana in each hand
and the throng howled, one couldn't
help thinking the day may come when
woman will stand in the same spot,
with heelless shoe in each. hand, and
the reminder of that grand old pioneer,
SUSAN B. ANTHONY. All this may
come to pass, and if it does, who will
then prate of inherent inequality of the
sexes?
A Revolution For a town of its size,
St. Paul is wofully de-
ary Restau- ficient in restaurants
where good cooking
rant. and neat service are
to be had. But if
person can be philosophical and think
only of natural history, removing fly
from his coffee, or diSputing the right
of one to lie down and die of fiy-poison
in the middle of his plate, there is one
restaurant here that is Il haven for the
rebellious soul. There is about as little
suggestion of law that oppresses and
order that wearies in the place as one
can imagine. 1t is eminently respectable,
mind you, and, so far as prices go, de-
cidedly firSt-claSS. But if you have a
favorable seat you can watch the pro-
prietor retire to corner, wash his face
and brush his hair. A man appears at
the front door peddling green stuff. He
is dispatched by one of the walters, and,
just as his coat tails recede from view,
the cook, who by some unclasSified in
stinct has become aware of his pres
ence, daSheS frantically in from the
kitchen and calls him back, to buy some
tomatoes. While you sit enjoying
fried chicken farm team haulS up be-
fore the open door and delivers dozen
or two squeaking, tapping, ter
rified, prospective fried chickens,
whose loud-voiced apprehension of
their fate make you feel like cannibal
with every mouthful you continue to
eat. You see the waiter taste of the
cream, to make sure it is sweet, and put
your morning melon to his nose. to sat
isfy his well-meaning desire to know
that it is good. Altogether, the meth
odS of this restaurant are so revolution
ary that, feeding there three times
day, one grows familiar enough with
confusion to understand the emotions
Of an anarchist.
Buried 1t is few young men
who enjoy the distinc-
Alive. ton of walking the
earth after their own
burial and knowing the exact amount of
their own funeral expenses. Such
young man, however, has lately taken
up his abode in st. Paul. His name is
PHIL WELLINGTON. and he is the hand
some, sturdy thirteen-year-oldb boy of CY-
RUS WELTINGToN. of the well-known
firm Of ERWIN IL WELLINGTON. Two or
three years ago Master PHIL was living
with his mother in New York
city. One day he mysteriously
disappeared, and no tidIngs of
him could be obtained. Desperate
search for him was at last rewarded by
the discovery of his body in a morgue.
He had been brought from the river,
and, so far as mothers eye could tell,
it was indeed PHIL. Naturally enough,
his parents hope that he still lived had
been so strong that doubt as to the
identity of the dead body was obstinate.
But it was PHIL'S image, and broken
tooth that had stood in the way of con-
viction was drawn from his head by his
mother, who is a physician, and taken
to dentist, who assured her that it had
been broken within a day or two. FL
nally, no word of PHIL alive being
received, PHIL dead was accept
ed. His body was removed from
the morgue to his mothers home
for burial. His parents followed
him with bursting hearts to his grave,
and uncomplainingly settled an under
takers bill for SAT. A week or two
after friend of the WELLINGTONS
from Staten island visited them and i'll
quired for PHIL. The sad story of his
untimely departure was told, but the
gentleman failed to be properly i'm
pressed. He insisted that he had seen
the young man ten or twelve days be-
fore, camping out with crowd of small
boys on Staten island. A telegram was
at once sent to the place in the vicinity
of which he had been seen, and, 10 and
behold! by the next train back came
Master PHIL to life and parents. He
had left home without the ceremony of
farewell, to lead the exciting life of
| trapper with number of congenial
| souls in the wlld-beaSt-infested suburb
of the great metropolis. The youngster
was literally buried alive. but while the
| PHIL that was buried now mOulderS in
| the dust, PHIL that was alive is still
| very much alive, as sight of the bright,
healthy little gentleman will convince
| you.
One Girls Every workingwom-
an in st. Paul will turn
Luck. green with envy, or
rosy with delight, as
| she is mean or generous, to learn of an
| incident in the life of an ambitious girl
in Chicago, who is aspiring to be law
| yer. Her position as h0usekeeper for
her father was usurped by stepmoth-
er, whereupOn the young woman, being
of an independent turn of mind, de-
termined to study law. She has neither
wealth nor social prominence. BY her
own unaided efforts she gained admit
tance to the Office of one of the leading
law firms of Chicago, under protest,
some of the men Objecting decidedly to
a woman in the case. But, given
an inch, she has held her own
with GRANT-like firmneSs for two years,
and is fast accomplishing her hearts
desire. And she is getting more. Last
week, different from most maids of her
age. she had a birthday. Her presence
at the office was requested to assist at
some tritiing piece of work. When she
made her appearance she found, where
her old desk had stood, one of the hand
soonest. most perfectly appointed desks
| that are manufactured. On it was a