The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1897-05-16

holder, with mutton-chop whiskers, while
underneath was this explanation
Robinson Crusoe wants to roam,
My son, says his father, stay at home -
1t was the story of Robinson Crusoe
told in verse that gave so much pleasure.
At first, Friday in his savage get-up was
our special chum, but afterwards, trans
formed by Robinson Crusoe into a civil
med being, with a high hat and a dress
suit, he became almost godlike to our
childish eyes. The possession of these
clothes we explained in the same way
that We did the rather dowdy Mother
Hubbard gown and small shopping bag
worn by Eve in a Bible picture-book We
thought they grew on trees, and the very
wise people knew just where to find them.
But, oh! the stories that are given to chill
dren nowadays! The tale that meanders
on, chapter after chapter, telling why the
good little boy did not take the cake that
was forbidden him. Any boy would know
that 1t was because he was afraid of a
thrashing. AS for believing that any
other boy would let the cake alone because
he had analysed the difference between
right and wrong and could see why and
wherefore he would better let it alone
looking into the future and detecting, not
only medicine bottles and very bad pain,
but eternal punishment-why it's perfect
nonsense. l like a novel made as l do
punch-with all the proper components
Snd at the last minute one small bottle of
soda to add to the life and sparkle. Who
doesn't like the lovers. the hard-hearted
parents the gentlemanly william, the lady
with a past and the small child. about
whose paternity there is some doubt, not
to mention the shrewd, but kind-hearted
detective who reads people as he does the
morning paper? We like them because
we know them and human nature is so
constituted that it likes old things best,
chnging, If it has any wisdom, to old
shoes, old friends old wine and old wood.
Just now the young widow is looking
extremely pretty. Her mourning is rich
and artistically draped, while her white
cap, which is as becoming as it was to
its original designer, Marie Stuart, tells,
especially to all mankind, that she is
lonely, while it asks for their sympathy.
Every woman ought to have an immense
amount of consideration for a widow. But
she hasn't. 1t is no woman's fault that
she is a widow She was not born so, and
presumably she is not so by choice, But
every woman possessing a husband, or
groWn-up son, regards the widow as a
tgress, seeking whom she may devour.
Probably, if a woman knew when she was
at the altar being married, that it was a
foregone conclusion she would be a widow,
she might say No" But she does not
have this chance. However, the world
calmly takes the position that it's her
fault that she's a widow, and if, leaven
of youth, ever so slightly, should be added
to her crime, the feminine world will never
forgive her Wretched old clergymen
without churches, half-starved and long
haired widowers-and every stupid fool
of man who goes around telling that he
would like to get married, is Immediately
seized upon by the friends CD of the wo-
man who is a widow, and II is suggested
that he would make her "such a nice hus-
band
A husband is a very good thing to have,
but husbands can't be picked out for one
as Christmas cards are It's quite time
that the world has learned that if wild
ow wants a husband she seldom has any
trouble in getting one. And If she doesn't
want one, her acquaintance might as well
save themselves the trouble of supplying
her with candidates. To be a widow
might be called geographically immoral"
In France they are highly appreciated. In
England they are admired and partially
understood; but the crudity of this coun-
try continually shows itself in it's absolute
ignorance of widows husband is de-
Sirable. An easy-gOing husband is the
greatest comfort in life His mere exist
ence is enough. He is at the bottom of
your table and at the head of your visit
ing card. In truth, he represents respec-
liability for you. It's odd, but nowadays
respectability is a thing of which society
only requires the shadow. Shadows sug-
gest spooks and ghosts. and mice, and all
sorts of things calculated to brighten,
without reason, any feminine woman.
Though no woman can bring herself to be-
iieve that she is frightened without reason
where a mouse is concerned. L once knew
a girl who met a mouse-but there-its
only the old, old story, but it's like love,
and we are always repeating 1t. However,
for this once, you shan't be bored with it
by Bah.