The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1895-11-08

Htu, Lluerly gentlemen nave nau at
tention diverted from their dignity and
directed to their corns The state Of
things has been deplorable, and still
worse conditions are reported to the
honorable secretary from Narragansett
and Bar Harbor. OF course the COM
mittee can hardly expect return to
the good old times when the burgesses,
| the minister, the judge and the school
teacher took off their coats and played
at "bowles" on the green while the
younger population in two awestruck
rows admired the grace, the dignity
and the fore-and-aft rotundities of the
players, wondering in their reverential
souls If any Of them would ever attain
to such curves of beauty and such ex-
altation of rank. That may be too
much to expect, but it should be kept
| in view as a goal.
1t would not be right to attempt to
| forestall the decisions of the commit
| tee, but from their casual remarks it
may be inferred that they consider the
| whole trouble to have arisen from the
social ignoring of the four-letter word
"obey." That as theology has become
weak, and Frances on lettering and dis
cordant legs, on account Of the ignor-
ing of the doctrines contained in a
| four-letter word beginning with Oh;
so society pulls apart and not together
on account of the ignoring OF the prin-
ciples wrapped up in four-letter word
| beginning with 90" In order to rein
troduce "obey," the start must be
made at the beginning. Children must
be made to obey their parents Litch-
field parents have of late generations
contracted the bad habit of reason
| ing with their children. That this may
have come from associating with out
siders of lax morals is no excuse.
Litchfielders must be recalled impera-
lively to sense of family duty How
can they hope to reform the world with
an unreformed family in their rear!
| The more unreasonable the command,
! the more immediate should be the ODE
| dience. Uuquestioning and abstract
obedience is the object, not rational or
willing obedience. The pure essence is
| the thing essential. Hereafter let eve
ry minor daring to say "Why?" be in
| stantly sent to bed with first-class
Litchf1eld spanking. There would fol-
low such respect for age that every
sexagenarian in the country would
| have himself put up for membership of
| the Litchfield club. AS with children,
so with wives. This theme is rather
risky during the bridal season; so that,
perhaps, it had better be left entirely
| to the committee 1t is reported that
some of the married members of the
| committee are already, when as yet the
subject has only been preached, find
| ing their homes so "hot" that they may
be compelled to resign.
| But what are these mundane subjects
in comparison with the official an
nouncement that the great goddess of
female wisdom, Pallas Athene herself,
has at last found terrestrial spot
worthy of her abode and proposes re-
descending from Olympus, bringing joy
and gladness in her train! Listen now,
all We classic scholars, and let your
minds swing and sway in Homeric
| rhythm!
| Not far from Litchf1eld is a cottage:
| formerly red, now not red, still known
| both as the RED Cottage and as 1.-THE
| Hennery," Henceforth the owl bird of
Pallas will preside over it's destinies.
Therein dwell those for whom the god
dess has been signing for centuries
and has at last found. They, in their
modesty, have been calling themselves
hens. What deep mystery overshad-
ows their origin may be known when
the Elusinian secrets are pierced.
There is a notion that a male is in some
odd way connected with THE Hennery..'
There always is a minute blot on every
| first-class tradition. Even Diana is
saddled with an Endymion. Some
Litchfielders assert that they have seen
the male in question. But the balance
of opinion is that he is a myth of the
| first water, creation of disordered i'm
agination, a copyints error, or an envi-
Gus dispersion. AT all events be he, or
be he not. he doesn't count. Minerva
hasn't seen him. Woe betide him
should she make the discovery!
Have you ever been awakened from
deep sleep by strange Pickering light
and a cracking sound? You may have
been dreaming of festivities and fire
works and so, as part of the dream,
have been unconsciously breathing in
the smell of fire and smoke. Little by
| little the reality overcomes the dream,
and with sudden and awful stroke
/ you are wide awake; still in the help
| lessness of sleep but wide awake to the
horrid fact that there is deadly burn
ing and that you are in the midst of it,!
What would you have done, craven
hearted, puny, last-century man? You
| would probably have beloved like a
calf, have hidden your miserable head
under the good-for-you bed
clothes and have expired of fright, or
of choke in your efforts to force baby
cries for help through your fear-para-
| lyzed wind-pipe. But what did she do,
| long of limb, golden-haired, eldest
daughter of the tawny-eyed? Did she
not spring at once from her couch with
| the recoil of a freshly-wound Water
bury? How long, o Muse! before she
had aroused her sisters three and the
| four were in the midst of it, fighting
fire! Sing of Pallas, o Muse! telephone
sent, rushing earthward with flowing
gowns to hide the hurried beauty of
| her votaries. How she uttered shriil
cries as when the white sisters defend
ed Delphi against the invading Gauls!
Sing of frantic steeds led away from
burning stalls by gentle hands while
| tender feet were treading on sharp
stubble. Sing of huge beams impelled
against resisting doors! Sing of heroic
aid hurrying from far and near, and of
hosts of fire-laddies marshaled and di-