Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1890-03-02
THE COMING AGE.
Shirley Dare'S Dream--FOrecaSts
of the Future.
Life in the Great Cities of the Next Gen.
tury-YOu Get What You Want to
Eat and You Live as You Please.
A New Order of Towns and Villages-Homss in
Msrked Contrast With Those of To-Day.
How They are Made Pleasant.
Copyrighted 1890 by the Author.

lSCpyrghte0 1881 by the Autnor.
I, For the Gazette.
In the city where found myself, one
delight was that the people were so we'll
bred that nothing seemed strange or
needing explanation, if it were not OBJ
viously wrong or in bad taste. One
might stop short in the street to admire
the grace of a vine-draped church-spire
or the heavy cornice of building with
out drawing crowd or even bringing a
contemptuous glance from some matter
of-fact passer. A man hurrying by,
made a misstep and fell, his hat rolling
off into the street; but nobody laughed,
though he was q caricature for a mo-
ment. In long stroll down Broadway one
was neither jostled or crowded. To be sure
the street was wide, but the principal
reason was that nobody tried TO walk or
both sides of the way at once; but the
uptown and downtown stream flowed
side by side as distinct as two brooks.
When street car stopped, or an sleva-
tor, or shop door opened, people did
not try to get in and out at the same
instant in their present idiOtic fashion.
Those entering waited till the others got
out and left the way clear; it was esti-
mated at saving of a quarter of a
minute each time over the ancient
struggle at the door of a lift or street
car; adding at least q year and a
half available time to the life of each
man. Truth to tell, there began to be
a terrible sense OF something
wanting everywhere. No jingle
of street car bells, no thunder of drays
and express wagons over the pavement.
When one entered q steam car he missed
the familiar slam of the door after each
passenger which had once kept the sense
alert for its torture. It had been found
that small cushions of rubber along the
casing obviated all slam, and that deaf
ness was much rarer in consequence.
People used to think that it was best for
all sensibilities to treat them as coarsely
as possible, stunning the ear with crash,
piercing it with keen sounds, Earring the
spine out of one every time the car
coupled or a front door closed. The
house fronts were broad easements to adj
NIT sun and light; but the windows
never ratified in a storm, nor did any
draughts sing in the crevices. Every
house was jointed closely as lady's
work-box; intolerable beading and
molding giving way to plain doors, made
like one smooth, broad plank of wood,
and decorated with paintings or hung
with enamels. Warmth and ventilation
were the first things attended to in the
houses, which were not half so ornate
outwardly as those of 1890. The yards,
the balconies, the roofs were the most
luxurious little gardens shut in with
glass for the winter, or rather with huge
clear sheets of thick gelatine, which had
come to take the place of glass for
hundred uses.
In a suburban town the school house
took the beholder S eye before any of the
other town buildings. It was only the
old house after the designs of 1860 re-
modelled, and the outside was simple as
ever. Perhaps the roof had a better
studied pitch, and the proportions salts
fed the eye, which the old could hardly
be said to do. Still it was kindlier edi-
fee than the picturesque English gothic
school buildings with hooded roofs, which
shut the sun from the rooms and cramped
the classrooms to suit the angles Of the
architects fancy. There were roof lofts
to keep out the baking heat of mid
summer and the cold of jan
nary; there was ventilation without
draughts and careful warmth pro-
vided. The "schoolroom smell'' was
unknown, and the prevailing impression
was not that of o mandatory of gradu-
ating classes, but a pleasant place of
learning. The seats and desks were alb
solutely as comfortable as the chairs at
the newest theaters, the school books
were large print, with pictures and
maps which pupils would remember as
helps in after years. The teachers were
polished, sincere friends to the boys and
girls, and public opinion carried loss for
those scholars who would not study and
obey in school hours. In consequence of
this class spirit, lessons positively closed
for the day at o 'clOck, and a troop of
happy, hungry creatures streamed home
to another sort of training in music and
tool work, garden or florist work of some |
kind, followed by games on the town
green, where half the village met in
warm weather daily, the younger ones to |
amuse themselves, the older to look on,
and be still more amused. Instead of |
gymnasium work the games provided all |
the exercise for the full development OF |
muscle and grace, with all the stimulus |
and play of spirit afforded by this fun.
The children wore q thoroughbred look, |
and an ideal beauty which surpassed the |
marbles of sculpture. One thought the |
GOlQSu age T6BLOT6uJ anu III SUMO SUIT IL |
was, or rather the Happy Age, in which |
one thing was notable, that all wore that |
browning grace of wide-eyed candor and |
only of race and those |
who could afford to despise the opinion |
or the opposition Of their fellow men. |
Discipline saved them from a hundred |
folIies which eat the fairness from the |
cheeks of children, and love, watchful |
and sincere, gave them hundred pleas
ures unknown to common households.
There was the great fact of affection,
and being MADE much of, which lends an
exquisite charm to faces, and is the |
divinest inspiration of beauty and health
for souls and bodies. The parents 1
seemed to remember in the old time had
hardly time to tell their children they
loved them, not time to sit in the fire.
light with their hands locked or straying
upon their flowing hair, things so light
and yet so long remembered.
l was certain that the villages wore
less of an air of smartness and the parti-
colored Queen Anne houses had all been
remodeled and given plain coats Of dark
paint. But the country had turned gar
5ap oud in oifios mt only fh6 Rack Raw |