The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-04-08

In life is only there.
Because, to your disdainful look
l answer with as cold gaze,
You sneer: My lady Ill can brook
That one no homage pays"
Because you note my blush and smile,
When others bow before my throne,
You do not know that all the while
Your mastery 1 own.
You Will not gueSS-I cannot tell
That tho gh their praises hatter me,
And though my kingdom pleases me well,
I'd leave it willingly
To reign as queen beside your hearth,
TO call my own your love, your life,
Would give up all prize on earth,
To be your wife
c. G. D., in The Spectator.
Here is the story of the machine-made
society girl, says the New York Press, as
seen by woman correspondent: 1.-THE
trouble with the machine-made society
girl IS that she is not human, or, if she
ever were, she has got bravely over it.
Our dear Lady Nature made her thirty
inches around the waist, but she is only
fifteen; and gave her a brain, but she
does not use it. and a nervous system, but
it is unresponsive as the tegument of a
pachyderm; eyes to weep with, but
they are forever dry; cheeks to smile
with, but they are forever stiff with lard
and cosmetic; lips to kiss with and to tell
of sweet sentiment and make soft con-
fessions, but they are forever smeared
with a red not found on dear Lady
Natures palette. She is far superior to
the wax bustOf perruquier's show window
or to the wire framework that displays a
Paris gown. She has higher tempera-
ture than the sleeping beauty of wax
work exhibitions, and she is probably
better conversationalist than the
celebrated talking machine that made
the rounds of the museums a few
IC hnY xH-cf lie
never have the warmth of those emitted
by talking doll, and no young man
would ever think of doing anything more
than waltz with her and carry her some
refreshment after the dance was over.
Her smile is the most wonderful thing
about her, and so stereotyped is it, so
woodeny, so utterly lacking in warmth,
that you would swear it was worked by
string. | once asked a friend of mine
whether he had ever fallen in with this
strange type of woman, the machine
made intended for the uses of society
only.
81 never heard her called by that
name said he, 'but l have made the ac-
quaintance Of some such women. Once,
l remember, at smart dance, did not
feel well and had resolved to go up to the
smoking room when the dancing began
Before l had time to offer an excuse, how
ever, l was seized and pressed into SER
vice. All l could catch of my partners
name was "Hurrill, - and when / half un-
consciously called her Miss Unreal, !" she
smiled. Ie goIs and little fishes, what a
smile! Her thin lips opened and shut just
once, as if somebody had pressed the
spring that moved them, and then that
smile died, apparently frightened to
death. We took our places for waltz.
- Gracious thought |, this girl will
fall to pieces if 1 dance her once round
the room. That is where l made my mis-
take. On and ever on we went, until my
knees began to tremble and the perspira-
ton was gathering in beads on my fore
head. / was ashamed to ask her to stop,
and yet felt as if one more turn would
undo me. | was as limp as rag. Fortu-
nately a couple of vigorous dancers struck
US and landed me on a sofa. | glanced at
my partner. She wasn't even using her
fan. My eyes sought the modest V of her
corsage. There seemed to be no more life
there than If nature had forgotten to
provide her with lungs.
" i got her an ice. That melted away
as if the rays Of a tropical sun had
touched it, In few moments waiter
bearing tray loaded with sandwiches
and heavy whisky punch drew near
resolved TO make an eXperiment-to see
just how much that frail body could hold
Again and again in the course of the eve
ming | carried punch and sorbets and
sandwiches to my. slender wasted part
ner. And mind you, all this was a mere
appetizer, for when l took her down TO
supper she informed me that she was
rayenously hungry. And then she smiled,
or, / should say, pressed the button that
novel the spring that opened her lips.
" Now | wrought the miracle of my
life. l emptied oysters, salad, boned
turkey, charlottes, biscuit-glace, fancy
ere ms, cakes. candied fruits, champagne
and black coffee into that slender column
Of pink tulle and satin, and yet it was not
hlled. ! actually believe that it left that
supper room hungry and went back to the
dance with pang in its little stomach.
Nh, thought l. what a fortunate thing it
was Miss Unreal did not form one of
those 1000 when the seven loaves and
four little fishes were distributed. Not
crumb would have been left them.
" Just then Tom B.. the great amateur
Splinter, joined US. / had long had a
grudge against Tom. Now was my
chance to get even to see him knocked
out. Both Of them smiled as they began
to waltz, but pretty soon Toms cheeks
began to redden up, then glow mantled
his whole face. His smile was gone, but
he showed itself now and then. Tom
turned his eyes appealiugly to me. At
last the music ceased Tom came up
groggy. For Gods sake, who is sheep
he asked, as he mopped his brow.
The coming society GIRL u replied.