The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1892-05-02
SLAMS OF THE DAY.
BAB'S ROMILY ON GALL THAT GILT.
TIERS Is NOT GOLD"

TIERS Is NOT GOLD"
A Woman and Her Fool-A Coward
Clad IN Purple-success That Came
Too Late-Au Unknown Authoress.
The story OF an Actress-The Mod,
ern Way OF DaucinR-Not the Poetry
OF Motion-To Be Little Old-Fash-
ioned-The Bright Reflections of a
Clever Woman.
(Copyri0ht.)
| NEW YORK, April 3o.-H there Is
anything in this wide, wide world
calculated to drive people to despair,
it's the sort of person who sits down and
fires proverbs at you. You listen without
protest when she says: ISIS long lane
that has no turning; you feel what sinner
| you are when she announces that "a rolling
stone gathers no moss; you feel like ami
hilating her when she tells you: BE bold,
be bold, be not over bold"; but you lose all
hope when she finishes up with "All Is not
gold that gIitters." Proverbs may be
| concentrated wisdom, but l think
that we are already too wise with a
large D before it. Let's think it's gold as
| long as it glitters The people who own 1t
know the difference, but, if the brightness
delights our eyes, then don't let us hunt for
anything that will test the metal The
gilde1 gingerbread may be little stale, out
it looked pretty when you bought IL, and
| because you have discovered its tough quail
| tiles you don't long for somebody to tell
you that "a fool and his money are soon
parted"
A WOMAN AND HER FOOL.
Every day there is q carriage driven up
| to The park, in which sits beautiful
woman. Her gowns are dreams of delight
| to the women who look at her; her hair
seems like spun gold; her eyes are clear
| blue and her skin is pink and white, as if
two kinds of roses were quarreling as to
| which should reign supreme. By her side
| is delicate looking man on whose face is
the expression of idiocy. How it all gilt
| ters! Is it goldl If you could take off that
| wOman's glove you would see hand Of
such strength that it could control either a
| pair of horses or beat them until they were
| frightened; aud if you looked closely
the strength Of the jaw, you
would realize that if it were necas-
| sary she could use the whip on the man
beside her. And she does Who is she?
| One of the numerous adventuresses who
| has married the semi idiotio son of rich
| man, who is disgrace to his people. And
| yet so we'll does be love the hand that beats
| him, 80 ike wretched cur is he, that he
will turn and kiss it after he has felt its
| blows. The best his people can do for him
| is to allow him plenty Of money and to let
| her take care OF him and it. II you get
very close. you will see that the blonde hair
gained It's shade from bottle OF peroxide
Of hydrogen; a little closer, and you will
discover that the pink aud white of the
skin can be bought in shops, and as you
| walk away, feeling little pessmlstic. you
will say, "All is not gold that glitters."
A COWARD CLAD IN PURPLE.
You go into Delmonico's, or any of the
! fashionable restaurants, and you notice a
handsome man. well-dressed. and evidently
courted by everybody around. You hear
| that he Is Mr.. Millionaire Dollar, and you
think to yourself, as you glance at his ''pur-
pie and fine linen" of the good acts and the
kind acts that you could do il you had a
| quarter of his money; then you give a
| sigh and wish you were in his place. Do
| you No, you don't. Hes out among peo-
pie, and where it's light, and where there is
plenty Of talk going on, and where he has
not time to think OF anything, because he
| doesn't fancy being alone. He says he is a
bit out of sorts; he says he is bit moody;
| but he is neither of these. He is afraid to
| be alone; he has been a coward, and now be
| is approaching the result of cowardice. A
year or SO ago, he went down to
| a southern village, induced a young girl to
he would marry her-and it was the old
story, but it had different ending. She is
not dead; no, she is simply going to ruin as
fast as she can And, because one man
ruined her life, she is dragging a lot of men
with her. When she left this man, this
| coward, she said to him: "Some day am
| coming back: not to stay with you, but to
kill you. II may be tomorrow, it may be
next week, it may not be for a year but as
surely as you have made me a bad woman,
80 certainly will | kill you, and so certainly
| do l cell on God to make you remember
| that at any minute of your life you may
| look for blow from me-" That's the way
that man is living. Why will those pro-
verbs keep coming mp in my earsa No. l
| don't want TO change places with him. And
| it seems as somebody were whispering,
Every back is fitted for its own burden"
| SUCCESS THAT CAME TOO LATE.
| You and I went to see play together the
| other night didn't we? And we laughed at
| it, and we said how clever 1t was, and you
wished you had been the man who wrote
| that play. Well, il you were, you would
| know great deal more than the rest of us,
| because you would be among that great
majority that has crossed the river between
| life and death. Y s. he is dead. And that
play was written while he suffered the most
| frightful agony-written that it might bring
some money IN for his wife and little ones.
| he pOOE l6lIOH WOIk6u anu WOTk6u anu
tried to sell his stories and his books, all to
no avail. until this pleased manager, and
meant fame and fortune to him. But it
was too late And when the woman who
| loved him closed his eyes so that he might
see no more of the worry and trouble OF
| this world she kissed hun on The lips and
wondered how IL was that he had to wait so
long, and could not see how great his suo-
cess was Hush, hush don't make me any
more of a pessimist than l an, by whisper
ing to me with a laugh; 20, man. to-mor.
row, thou shalt be happy"
| AN UNKNOWN AUTHORIZES.
There's novel you are reading pow. II
bears on 1t the name Of a wsll-known
| writer. You are fascinated, you are do
lighted, and yet it doesn't seem quite like
bis other books. It seems better, aud
through 10 all there ia little st<ala Of sorne-
thing that would suggest that a woman had
something TO do with 1t. Ny friend, she
did more than that-she wrote it. Yet il
bears this man's name. If you were alone
in great city, if you had no money, II you
were u good woman, you would earn it In
any way that was honest. This girl tried
to sell her book and failed. And
the great author, going into a pub
fishing house one day. picked it up
| from the table, looked at the
| uanuscriok ami asked for the oirlis ad.