The Sunday herald and weekly national intelligencer., 1890-10-19
From our Regular Correspondent

mean red, though considerable of that prevails
but / do mean mauve. OF this dainty and deli
cate color there are said to be seventy-two diff
ferent shades, and to start man out to match
piece of ribbon means either that he is devoted
slave or that he will return in fifteen minutes
and make the air blue with his favorite language
Young women who ought not to wear mauve
look like lemons in it, and those who can smile
at them and wonder why people who do not
know anything about art assume mauve shades
THE STORY OF NEW YORK BELLE.
An old story has been revalnped and fitted for
drawing-room use apropos of the color of mauve.
1t goes this way: professional beauty had
dream wherein she was told that she would die
at a certain time; being, like all professional
beauties, little particular as to her belongings
she concluded that she would select her shroud
for herself, so off she trotted to the underiakers
She inquired with becoming solemnity, ''What
is the latest thing in shrouds ?n The polite
gentleman who undertook said, ''Well, for
young girls and children and ladies who
have never had their hair bleached, nor been
written up in the newspapers, nor have been in
terviewed and told just what underclothes they
wore, we make all white; but for married ladies
and widows and young ladies who have been
guilty of golden tresses not their own, of look
ing too much on the rouge pot, and having their
photographs sold in the shops we make mauve
ones" The beauty looked at him for long
time, then answered, ''Make mine all white;'' but
she stopped and thought-she saw him looking
at her hair; she saw him looking at her cheeks
and she added, ''You might put dash of
mauve."
Now, whether all New Y ork is wearing mauve
because they do not care to introduce the dash,
and so give themselves away, no man can say,
but for the last week every gown in five has been
one of the seventy-two shades. Even the dogs
are adorned with huge bows of mauve, and there
is nothing more absolutely beautiful than to see
determined fox terrier doing gymnastics in the
dust of the street with the view of getting that
ribbon off his neck. My sympathies are entirely
with the dog, for think good dog, like fine
picture, does not need ribbon adornments to
bring out its beauty.
THE METROPOLIS NEW THEATRE.
All the smart New Workers went to the open
ing of the new Garden Theatre, and laughed for
two hours at the wild little farce, doctor
Bill, that has delighted London for so long a
time past. The theatre itself, quite irrespective
of its beauty, which is undeniable, is joy for
ever, because the seats are SO arranged that no
matter how big the hat in front of you may be,
you can see over it. "Doctor Bill'' itself is
fun-rolicking, hilarious fun from beginning
to end. AS the central figure there moves be-
witching Sadie Martinot, who is so eager to i'm
press on her neighbor that all men are alike,
and that the newly married husband is no better
than any other. When she announces that she
can make the Doctor flirt with her, every woman
in the audience unconsciously mods, for the man
who could resist her sweet tones, her beautiful
man at all, he would be clay, and of the COM
monest, lowest kind Although the play is full
Of funny situations, to me the most perfect piece
of acting was shown when Miss Martinot, as
Mrs Horton, the ex-actress, the new wife of the
Inspector of the Police, pays a morning visit
and does the fine lady as she conceives her to
be. She drawls out her plattudes, gives dainty
little shrugs, grows femninely ecstatic over her
nerves, and has about her satisfied air of do
ing the right thing that is delicious. 1t lis quiet
piece of comedy that half the audience do not
appreciate, and shows in its execution how
much Miss Martinot has gained by studying the
French stage. l am of those people who like to
be amused consequently, l found good in
everything, even in Doctor Bills prescriptions
WHERE TASTES DIFFER.
The critics yearn for something analytical
IhSl "aht W cApIOlG IucI pens anu bpluGteT
their ink about as to whether the curl on a mans
forehead means that he is in the depths of de-
spair or only that he intends running away with
his friends wife that night. They want the
frou-frou of frock to hint Of yearnings for a
knowledge of another world, and the pose of an
arm to signify deep and intense love that is
deVouring everybody-eYen the youngest child
of the family. For my own part, count this
nonsense. | want TO know what the people are
talking about and what they mean. l don't go
to the theatre to work out problems and to stick
on the passinorum but to enjoy myself. Some
times the enjoyment takes the form of a creepy
murder, sometimes Of love story, and some
times Of a continuous evening Of laughter.
THE TALE OF LEAK.
For years New York has not had enough
water to wash in. That is to say, in most houses
the silver faucets on the third floor were snares
and delusons. Now they have water, and to
spare, and the plumber is singing as merry as
possible, and is as happy as only man can be
who feels that he has his fellow man completely
under his thumb. l assisted at the mending of.
or rather the stopping up of pipe the other
night, and the means used gave me an idea of
the possibilities Of the medical profession. /
had never thought of applying anything healing
TO a lead pipe, but | now know that it can be
done. The leak started at the mystic hour of
l2 and dripped down from the third story into
the second, casually running lot of books. 1t
took three women and one man to discover