The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1888-09-16

pearls, aud have some fine ones, but I am not
fond of much jswelry of any kind"
cannot describe the parlor 10 which we sat
because it would take many visits to become
familiar with all its beauties. ! know the car
pet was pleasing 10 the eye and soft 70 the
touch that the daylight came in through the
vice French windows with gentle, subdued
effect. produced by the green Venetian blinds. L
know the walls were hung with fine paintings;
that the chairs were snug and of variety, snd
grouped so easily that they fairly coaxed ons to
sit down and talk. know that the little tables
were strewn with photographs and rare knick-
knacks. and that the breeze from the Hudson
came creeping in, rafting stray papers and
twisting the colored yarn. l know that it was
all IS perfect, and sweet, and comfortable as is
could be and not one bit stiff or formal. In
short, the entire house and is occupants seemed
agreeable and unconventional.
81 love America and everything American"
said Mrs. Morton warmly $50 much so that my
friends tease mo about it. have very many
friends abroad, and like TO go across OCCASIONAL
~, because really the only way to get man cut
of from his business Is TO take him abroad
where ne can't get to work. l think trip always
does Mr.. Morton good, but L am always glad to
get back 10 my dear old land. just think IL 10
80 perfect that we cannot introduce anything
foreign that will excel equal what We
have: My household is strictly American"
What do you do all dayF
"My days are very busy, as is every mothers
when she does her duty" she said pleasantly.
Il have always been my own housekeeper, and,
although l am not practical cook know what
to order and when things are right or wrong.
see after everything of domestic nature. get
up at o'clock and give my servants orders for
the day; then l see TO every detail abont my
'children-that they ore bathed, what they shall
wear and eat At $50 o'clock breakfast
Since we have been here the children eat with
US. and tho first thing discussed is the news.
We take all the newspapers, as we wish 70 read
both sides of the political question The gov
erness reads them to the children, who take as
much interest in IL as | do. Then keep up an
extensive correspondence. My literary efforts
are confined to voluminous letter writing, but
my uncle, Alfred Street, who died some years
ago in New York. was poet"
Will Won stay al Ellerslie all the fall"
II hope to- Ny mother is with me now and
later expect & number of friends When I
told them was coming to live here they sli
said would die of the heat and loneliness, but
i have felt neither. / never was happier in my
life. Just step here until show you the grand
view we ave"
broad. clear space of rolling green going
down. down until il is lost in q dark, heavy
wood that eeems to touch the waters edge,
leaves unbroken perfect view of the great
Hudson, which looks in the sunlight like
mirror on which the quicksilver has been slight
ly ruffled; above the canopy of blue sky over
which white, airy clouds are slowly drifting,
while on the right doomed up as If all-powerful
the dark mountains which stretch further and
further away until they become but a black line.
Down below Craze cattle, and coming along
get mouthful OF grass from along the wsyside.
"How many children have your
'Now you will laugh when l tell you that
have done nothing but raise family and keep
house since 1 married, but it constitutes my
whole happiness" she added hastily, as il fear
ing would infer otherwise. Edith, my eld-
est, Is a tall, handsome girl or fourteen; Lena ID
thirteen, Helen is twelve. Lewis Parsons, my
eldest boy, died while we were in London. Alies
is next aud is nine, and Mary. the baby, is sev-
en-. They have q French governess. and they
keep up their music and drawing during the
summer; all other lessons are put by until win
ter. They are very happy children. too. They
have their tennis grounds, their pony and dog
cart in which they take long daily drives about
tie country; they ride and they do fancy work,
and then each has her little duty TO perform.
One looks after the poultry sud brings in the
eggs; another To feeding the dogs, another
to the flowers, and so On. They are busy chill
dren. They have formed a sewing class Of the
farmers children, many of them from among
our farmers, and others from the outside. Every
Saturday morning they meet here, and Edith,
Lena and Helen teach them sewing Then they
get I'D picnics and invite US 10 attend They
have one for tomorrow, l think. Mr. Morton
has had tables pnt in the grove and it is now a
very pleasant place for picnic parties They
come from all quarters with their baskets and
spend whole days down there. 1t makes Us
happy that we can give little pleasure to othf
ers."
Il suppose yo1 will return to the city this
winterP / said.
eyes in the late fall. We live at IS Fifth ave.
nue.; but we co not own the house. We are
Episcopalaos," she replied in answer TO my
question.
"and / do not want any more rights than have,
but am a politician for my husbands sake.
Everything that concerns him Is my interest.
and DO all / can to aid aim N every way.
have no interests that are not connected with
my home My husband and my children are my
whole thought aud care. / did not tell you,
bali fhotE az HanO civ
bright promises of being an able violinist.'
"Have you any brothers or sistersf"
81 have no sisters. but have brother In
London. he is q partner of Sir Roderiek Cam
eron in Australian shipping business. Ny father
has been dead some twenty years
What do you read Mrs. Mortonq
'Well. don't do much reading now except
the newspapers We get both Republican and
Democratic journals, and read them all,
do not like 20 take narrow view OF anything.
Occasionally read novels, bat ! do not get
much time aside from my duties to devote to
reading. am just now in the midst OF Robert
Ellsmere, and think it very interesting. Did
you ever such a display of campaign articlesP
asked Mrs. Morton, with q little laugh I'VE
have so many sent rs, and / value them quite
highly. intend to keep them all together as
souvenirs
She took me across the ball to Dir. Morton's
library, a very model, where she showed me
some OF the articles they had received. On the
low bookcase, which encircles the room, on
busts of Harrison and Morton. There were
eraved and and-painted pictures bearing their
photographs, satin banners of different designs,
one Of very fine work framed, satin ribbons for
the lapel, a Harrison and Morton Waterbury
wa4ch and all sorts of things, from the finest OF
work TO Turkish towels with Harrison and
Morton" woven in colored letters. 1.-The child
rem claim the right TO all the buttons, which
come by the dozen, and they go about wearing
several at time. W. ell Chick, why you
| not outl" she said, putting her arms around q
little girl in big straw hat who had caught
her skirt.
Il was studying" she replied. 'The others
are out"
What busy child il is" she said tenderly.
Then: THE day is too fine to be indoors; go, you
| must take drive Our overseer wanted me 10
some of the cows that he intends TO send to
the fair" she said, as we stood on the stairs
waiting for my driver; 'he is very proud OF
them, so / must CO."
And then shook hands and with a few
| pleasant words parted. l found Mrs. Morton
the most informal and spproachable OF any
| woman ever interviewed