The copper country evening news. [volume] (Calumet, Mich.) 18??-1907, 1897-01-14

W 4 l U u WOTuS IUdO
might stand as motto for life-none
better, none grander, search where you
will. They have all the force and gIst
of Scripture in them. Nay. has not
noble book been written on "Shakes-
peare's knowledge and Use of the BIZ
ble?' Just before the Prince of Den
mark utters four memorable words he
says, "There's special providence in
the fall of a sparrow" And then, in
one grand, sudden heat Of heart, he
bursts forth, "The readiness is allr'
And he meant, doubtless, the aptitude,
the elasticity, Of spirit to know when
great opportunity called and the ready,
adaptable spirit to seize it. 1t consti-
tutes the entrance upon career for any
woman. You remember other immortal
words of the bard Of Avon:
There's tide in the affairs of men
Which, taken at the flood, leads them to for
tune.
There has come to my knowledge re.
Gently one of the most remarkable in
stances of this opportunity is all" and
this readiness is all" and the way in
which one woman rose grandly to it at
the sacrifice of personal looks, which are
very dear (and rightly SOY to us women.
II Daniel Webster always carried IA tiny
notebook in his pocket to jot down the
sudden thoughts which the varying cir
cumstances of life awakened, feeling
that TO delay moment to reach legiti-
mate pen and paper on his study table
was to lose those great meteor inspira-
tions forever, you will give t-edence
to the following story (true), that comes
to me from personal friend:
1t was one of the great nights of the
celebrated Gewandhaus concerts in
Leipsic, those glorious and farfamed
evenings where the planets in the firma-
nent of music have burned, where
Beethoven sat and where Mendelssohn
was conductor. Among the audience,
numbering the most distinguished and
the most artistic in the German musical
world, was IA young man sitting only a
few benches from the platform. Beside
him sat his wife. Even among the
brows Of brains, the eyes of genius, the
lips of power, one would have noticed
the splendid countenance of this man, lit
with those great fires from the unknown
we call genius. AS the concert went on
his brow was knit with thought; his
hand moved impatiently; he seemed to
be drinking at the fountain of song that
rose and dipped in silver sprays of mel
ody, or with cadenced passion moved III
mightest heaving upon the souls OF
men. But, though he was in it all,
mated TO music, there was faraway
look in his eyes, and his hand moved
impatiently again. The little wife at
his side watched him nervously. She
was beautiful woman, and with con-
summate art-art which, alas, few
American women possess nowadays
her dress was chosen to express, not OPP
press, her. If she had worn a hat like
these our winter Shanghais, rutfied q
La Judge Jeffries for the criminal court
of Charles 1, her beauty would have
been nil. If she had worn the colors
more numerous than God Almighty
thought prudent to put into his first
rainbow, her beauty would have been
nil. If she had worn the entire anatomy
of the bird of paradise, which God emer-
aided for the bough and not for the bon
net. her beauty would have been nil.
But she was wisely dressed in a tight
fitting. simple gown that set Off her
beauty as the frame the pictures.
Around her fair, plump Doric throat was
a neat little white linen collar. Shapely,
broad, white linen cuffs set off the long,
shapely hands. Wise little woman!
Study your individual lines OF beauty,
nv fellow women, and obey not the
dressmaker's behests.
Still she anxiously watched the deep
ening lines on her husbands brow.
Again his band was moving aud NOV
ing This time was it not rhythmicallyi
Yes. In slow, revolving circles it swept
around and around, and the eyes be-
meath the great brow glowed.
The music was moving in ascending
climax of power. 1t was as when q
mighty river. sweeping onward, hurls
itself in cataract cry to the abyss, and
up from the sheeted foam the rhythmic
al rainbow spray is born, and borne up
ward on that creative cry. The man 8
ewes were magnificent. He started. HIS
left hand dived into his pocket. and the
right hand kept moving in the circiing
sway.
"Herr Gott"
"What is it, Liebchen" the little
wife whispered anxiously.
~ have forgotten my notebook. he
said hoarsely, and the thought is born. 1
have not one morsel of writing paper.
Lieber Gott i'm himmel. it will leave
mep' The sweat broke upon the man g
forehead.
With an inspiration that was almost
AZ grand az his own, the beautiful wom-
An tore of the dainty white linen collar
from her neck and tore of the broad
white linen cuffs from her wrists and
reached them to him. She sat denuded