Fort Worth gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1891-1898, 1891-04-26


time Of humanity y always so much more
attractive 10 me than any printed work
that looked abp 4 to see if there were not
some curious and Interesting pages from
its comedies. tragedies, everyday dramas or
farces floating loose around me. Sure
enough, not three feet away sat what Sam
Weller would call "a old file" He was a
regular picture book figure. or stage ''old
man. long, thin, seedy; with fluffy white
hair and eyes as black as the villains pur-
pose or design. He fixed me with these
burning eyes and says he, "Did you ever
study Zyptology?"
blushed hotly, for thought OF that rosy
letter in my pocket which stated that had
been subjected, as it We're, to a very supe-
riOr education: and here was an old file
wanting to know if l had studied an
'ology,' I'd nevereven heard of before.
''Well-ah-" l said, only specifically,
l."
''.Just so.n he replied it is ever too abb
stract for the female mind It IS 10 pSy-
chology what algebra is TO arithmetic, what
Psychology is TO ethics. Beautiful science
wonderful theory-ennobling study Now
you are woman q bowed humbly), but
you have an intelligent eye Il brightened),
and have system by which can explain
to you the true principles Of zyptoiogy in
an hours time" q collapsed).
Look at this structure, az these massive
towers, iron girders, cables, pillars, etc.
All the structures of man, the monuments
of his strength, the fabrics of his skill and
cunning, are but eryptograms wherein lie
hidden the souls thought. All these
thoughts and images, fit reading fer an an
gel or a God, you may decipher if you once
learn the magic key. Now to begin"
glanced at my watch. ! had just six
minutes to go on.
But said he, with note of reproach
in his voice, as he observed the action, II
am OBTAINING you, l see. You wish to go.
You are but woman, young woman at
that, and these things
Not so," said: YOU do me wrong: you
are unjust to my higher self and my yearn-
ingS after this unattainable. l should just
love to remain here on the ingeniously IN
comfortable bench through blissful ages
listening TO you on zyptology; but alas!
must go and do things to earn bread and
butter. 1t is now 2:24 o'clock. At $50 1
must be there to see person or the par
ticular jig in which l am engaged in pro-
noting is up. Time doth thrust me from
thine arms goodbye, sweetheart, good
Bye" -.
have been visiting for several days some
friends stopping at the SWEETEST hotel in the
city. What modern Haroun Al Raschid's
palaces of comfort and. convenience they
are, the best of these great hotels.
This cunning little contrivance, the tele-
SEINE, the Qualification and blossoming of
the sober little electric bell, what u wonder
full thing it is. l read attentively all round
its dial, wheron are printed the names Of
nearly all the things a sick or weary body
could need or desire-food and refres hment,
bodily and mental, all sorts of sweet and
bitter waters, draughtS of healing and sim
full intoxicants by the pint or quart, and any
number and variety of persons to Go almost
any bidding.
There are directions, too, printed up
strongly in red, telling you to turn the
crank till its end rests over the name Of the
article you desire. then press the button,
and your order will be filed at once.
All" | said, and the rapturOuS anticipa-
ton of Aladdin flooded my fancy, NOW
shall have my hearts dear wish. They
cannot have omitted so important thing.
Why, it's what we all want. The unex-
pressed yearning which drives US all, rest
less, unsatistied seekers up and down the
earth. Where all wants have been SO
thoughtfully anticipated they will never
have overlooked the one great want. IT'S
but to turn the crank, press the button,
moment of waiting, a few words of COM
mand, and l shall kiss the lips of my de-
Sire'''
read round and round that dial that held
so much: but, don't you know, it wasn't
there! And iuithe face of this bitter dis
appointment buttered toast seemed a mock
cry and sherry cobbler little better than an
insult.
Here am in this great hotel, surrounded
by every sort of comfort and luxury, with
countless modern ministering angels at call,
thinking of the bright skies and breezy
plains of West Texas. have been indulg-
ing in racking headache and am writing
this la Catherine What's-her-name sign
ing her What-you-call-it, propped up with
pillows and things. The weeping lords and
ladies, attendant vassals, impossible grey
hound and cataleptic priest may be filed to
fancy They are at the other end Of the
teleseme, along with the hot wafies, cold
turkey. the waters of affection and the
waters of pleasantness, the litter private
maid and milk punch.
ALICE MACGowAN