The Philipsburg mail. [volume] (Philipsburg, Mont.) 1887-current, 1888-03-22
EEAU1Y IN THE BOXES

The Lovely Women Who Crowd the
Front Rows in the Opera.
l was at the opera the other night
"Faust' was on the bill and the house
was crowded with the beauty and wealth
OF the town. Standing un between tho
acts swept the boxes with my opera
glass, and the sheen Of the diamonds out
shone the glare Of the bright lights. Tho
white and bare shoulders of the women
rose along the front seats like the tops O,
soft white waves, and their uncovered
arms were as ripples Of foam that 70
leved the bright colors Of their costumee.
Clear complexioned, bright eyed and
aggressive in their beauty, many of them
leaned over the front Of their boxes and
sent their sparkling eyes careenine
through the house. They were lovely
specimens Of the feminine form divine
and the world has not left them in ignox-
ance of that delightful fact.
Take almost any Of the boxes and tha
story OF its occupants lives will point tho
moral of the subject that came to mo
that night.
Never mind the particular box, bit
there was one that drew my attention.
Three women on the first row, superbly
built. cherry Tipped and alabaster skinned.
With faces serene, health perfect, and
contentlnent marked on every line Of
their well cut countenances. They had
swept into their places long after tho
performance had begun and gazed about
with superb indifference after throwing
of their wraps.
The well rounded outlines Of the old
est OF the three, and the repose that ran
through her every motion, marked her
out as woman to whom care was un-
known, and satisfaction an everyday
romance. She might have @cen 40. but
she looked 25. The other two were
younger, but both were pictures OF ab.
solute physical beauty. They were one
family, and may have been mother.
daughter and sister. The three were
magnificent evidences Of the develop
ment and culture that are buildin9 up
the rich women of New York, and Civ
ing an inheritance of health and beauty
to the new generation that is growina
around lis today.
And the husband7 for he was there. ton.
The wife turns occasionally in . care,
less, half Indifferent way and says Q
word to some one who sits in the rear Of
the box, and in the half dimness can b
seen the man whose money makes all thip
loveGness possible.
Is he, too, developing and ROUNDING
out his life i'll pleasant WAYS and without
weighing cares? Look at him even In
weight; he IS many pounds Lighter than
is the magnificent woman he calls vito,
and who glances back at him eometimeo
almost pathetically. The burrows along
his cheeks are cut deep and his eyes a10
weary and often heavy, evea
when Marguerite sings her sweetest
strains.
The world has been wrestling with him
for quarter of century, and his o0lco
has seen him every day during all that
time. He has delved for wealth and he
has found it, but his bent shoulders and
sl-unken figure ell the story Of tho
strained anxiety that has covered his lifp
for years. Unceasing work during tho
lay and uncertain rest i'll the quiet Of The
hight have laid the mark Of GO years
lpon him, though he has not perhaps
ouched 45.
lie has fought for the place in the opera
where his proud wife sits. He has strug.
,led to keep her in the splendor that
'efits her beauty. He tolls along, hold
ng to his accommodations and lavishinR
hem upon her, while her loveliness and
ta,el:ncss grow with advancing matron-
'ood. and the years of middle manhood
ring to him the weariness and decrepi-
ude of old age.
1t is no fancy sketch. The opera house
vas full Of such pictures that nj ght-is
ull of them every night.
True. there are some magnificent spec
mems OF stalwart American manhood,
trolling here and there through the lob
les or lounging in the body of the house.
tut then most Of these men are unmax>
ed.-New York Graphic.