The Forrest City times., 1894-08-24

self up in her bedroom. happy in her proximity to her washstand as de- votee who draws near the altar with the mystic longing of devotion. Her occupation matters nothing. To her bedroom she takes her reading, her sewing. her fancy work; it is there that she practices upon her mandolin or her zither; and if she could carry her piano under her arm she would have it up there.
 1 do not know how the bedroom dis ease first got it's insidious grip on the women of our country. l only know that it has obtained such hold upon their systems that they are, in all probability. beyond any mortal cure. i There may be regulations in Heaven to keep those blessed angels in the streets, or in the jasper vestibules, or the crystal front parlors, or some place where slop jars and washstands are not; but never on this poor mortal earth will you get the American woman to give up her habit of fester- ing in her bedroom during every minute of her spare time.
 
 tempted to buck against the bedroom habit. He was a very rich man who had made a vast fortune in the west, and he had wife of whom he was very fond. She had injured her health by sitting day after day in the mias- matic atmosphere of her toothbrush and combings, and he wanted to try to reclaim her, to make healthy, happy woman of her. So he built house that might have been called a palace. if any one ot those wretched old European palaces were one-hun- dredth part as good as the kind of house an American builds when he sets out to please his wife. One speciality about this house was that it had more differ ent sorts of rooms than any house that ever was heard of. It had parlors and drawing-rooms and withdrawing rooms, and without drawing rooms, and dining rooms. and wining-rooms and music rooms and picture rooms and li- braries and aviaries and apiaries and ! conservatories and observatories and every possible and impossible archi- tectural outfit that ever was devised.
 But the heart and soul of the whole house was the boudoir. It was on that boudoir that this man flung himself. l He had fought in the wild west with savage Indians and rough frontiers men. In the face of countless obsta- cles he had made himself rich and re- spected. His courage was dauntless; chilled-steel was mush in comparison s<l I sr who had undertaken to cure his wife of the bedroom habit.
 The boudoir that he offered her as a substitute for her bedroom was mar vel of nineteenth century art. In or der to get it just exactly right. he sent | for boudoir expert from Paris, and gave him full, unlimited swing. When the expert got through. that boudoir had cost quarter of million dollars, and it had not it's equal upon earth. There was no resource of art or of tex tile manufacture that had not been ex- hausted to make it beautiful. Silks and satins were the cheapest of it's draperes. Couches, sofas. diyans, every possible invention in the way of furniture wherein a woman could lie CT lounge or sit or sprawl was there to tempt the incidence of the gentle mis- tress of the place Perfume fountains played in every known key of odor. Birds of sweetest song caroled from golden cages, and were trained to shut up when so directed. No appurtenance of luxury, comfort or elegance was wanting in this magic chamber. He made his wife promise that she would give up her commonplace bed-cham- Der and pass her leisure hours in this halcyon abode, and he had chronatic slides fixed in the window sashes, so that by touching the proper button she could have any illumination she wanted to suit whatever complexion she happened to have on.
 She was true woman and she kept her promise. Day by day she faded away, and her wan. white cheek grew pale and paler. Day by day, hour after hour she sat in her martyrdom. dream ing of her washstand, dreaming of her toothbrush, dreaming of her soapdish, dreaming of the dear. dear tin slopjar. Har husband noted with anxiety her failing health, but his coarse mascu- line perception did not enable him to guess the cause. At last there came a time when he was obliged to leave her for a fortnight. and with streaming eyes he confided her to the old nurse who had cared for her in infancy. No sooner was he gone than this he roic woman resolved upon a radical and daring course of action. Hurry ing to her own humble apartment she hastily dragged her modest cottage bed into the magnificent boudoir