Puck — April 23, 1879 — page 12: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

108 woman's rights “ platform ;” was very broad in her theological views; and under a quiet exte- rior, and some peculiarities of temper and manner, nursed a warm and womanly heart. In appearance she was neither so prepossess- ing nor as tail as her sisters, who were ‘‘ daugh- ters of the gods, divinely tall and most di- vinely fair.” To her Effie, the youngest of the grown-up daughters—we say grown-up, for though only sixteen, if that, she was fully five feet eight— offered a marked and pleasing contrast. Fair- haired, like her mother, blue-eyed, modest, frank and winning in manner, reserved in the presence of strangers, but playful as a kitten with those she liked, Effie was what her cousin Dick with somewhat unnecessary emphasis called “a perfect stunner.” Between her and Flora came Alister, the spoiled male-child of the family; a tall, good-looking, warm-hearted, ignorant young Hercules, who knew vastly more about fishing and shooting and otter- hunting; about the breaking-in of horses and the breeding of cattle, than about ancient or modern classics. Although already arrived at the mature age of eighteen, he had been some thirteen times in love, and this his last—and as to this last we shall learn more presently— was like all its predecessors the deepest and most lasting and consuming of all. The young- sters—Georgie and Bunny and the rest of them —do not call for particular mention, and al- though at odd times there were whispers heard of one “ Hector,” as they called him, the out- side world knew little about him, and his name was never mentioned in the family. Vague ru- mors there were of a fine, bold, clever, reckless young fellow who had gone to St. Andrews and turned out badly—shot somebody in a boyish duel, or committed forgery, or been guilty of some mysterious and awful crime which had brought shame and disgrace on his connections and driven him from respectable society. But even these stories were so impalpable and vague, that they do not count for much, and so far as his relatives and the world were concerned, Hector Macdonald might as well have been dead and buried. Indeed, for aught any one knew —save perhaps one—he might well have been dead, as, to all appearance, he was cer- tainly forgotten. ‘The inmates of the house not members of the family were the two governesses, the cook, three servant maids, John the coachman, and, as occasional butler and major domo in cases of emergency, Dugald, the gardener, when he happened to be sober. At present the senior governess was on leave of absence through ill health, which left Maggie, Flora and Effie with more time on their hands than they well knew what to do with. As for Alister, he never had had a tutor, and had no desire to go to either school or college. He had already spent four sessions at Dol- lar Academy, besides a couple of years in a solicitor’s office at Inverness as an apprentice, but to neither school nor law had he taken kindly, and although his parents were only too well aware of his ignorance and wildness, he was so bitterly opposed to being sent from home, and, in spite of his deficiencies and faults, his headstrong and impulsive temperament, and his angularities—not to say boorishness of man- ners—he was such a general favorite, and had made himself so useful in the management of the farms and the estate, that his tather was loth to part with him, and kept always putting off taking any decisive step, So it came about that in this merry month of May, 18—, Alister and his sisters were practically masters of their own time—if we be allowed for once in away to apply the term masters to ladies. (To be continued.) anges. ON A FAN TIIAT BELONGED TO THE MARQUISE NDE POMPADOUR. Chicken-skin, delicate, white, Painted by Carlo Vanloo, Loves in a riot of light, Roses and vaporous blue; Hark to the dainty frou-frou! Picture above, if you can, Eyes that could melt as the dew,— ‘This was the Pompadour’s fan! See how they rise at the sight, Thronging the Ciil de Beuf through, Courtiers as butterflies bright, Beauties that Fragonard drew, Talon-rouge, falbala, queue, Cardinal, Duke,—to a man, Eager to sigh or to sue,— This was the Pompadour’s fan! Ah, but things more than polite Hung on this toy, voyez-vous! Matters of state and of might, Things that great ministers do; Things that, may be, overthrew Those in whose brains they began; Here was the sign and the cue— This was the Pompadour’s fan! ENVOY. Where are the secrets it knew ? Weavings of plot and of plan? —But where is the Pompadour, too? This was the Pompadour's fan! —Austin Dobson in Scribner's for May, WELL, WHY DO THE CHRISTIANS RAGE? (From the Brooklyn Eagle of April 17th.) After the adjournment of the Brooklyn Pres- bytery yesterday afternoon the Rev. Alfred Taylor called a newsboy to him and asked him for a paper. The boy handed him an Zag/e, but before he received his pay he was seized by the sexton of the church and pushed down the steps. ‘You can’t sell none of them Eagles here,” said the sexton, who was acting under the orders of the trustees of Mr. Crosby's church, Brother Taylor was very indignant. “Come back here, my boy, and get your money,” said he, beckoning the little fellow towards him, ‘The boy started to comply with his request. He had ascended two steps and was holding out his hand for the pennies when the sexton again seized him by the coat-collar. ‘Then Brother Taylor's righteous wrath was fully arroused. He took hold of the sexton by the shoulders and demanded that he should re- lease the boy. The guardian of the church refused. While the Rev. Alfred Taylor kept a firm hold on the collar of the sexton he was assailed in the rear by a brawny trustee of Mr. Crosby's congregation, who grabbed him by the coat-tails and tried to drag him from the trembling sexton, This was too much for Mr, George P. Edgar, who is a good Presbyterian and a friend of Brother Taylor. He darted swiftly around one of the big pillars and at- tacked the brawny trustee. Scripturally speak- ing, he smote the offender hip and thigh. From a sporting standpoint it may be said that he led out with his right and planted a “bumper” on the tip of the trustee’s nose. Queen Victoria is like a machinery-wheel, because she travels in cog.— Boston Post, A MAN with new teeth will undertake to make 1000 smiles in 1000 quarter hours, — N, 0. Picayune. Prince Louis NaPoLeon’s pastime is match- ing pennies. He says: “ Heads I win, Beatrice; tails, Zulus.”"— Utica Obsever. Ir is hinted that the negro exodus is caused by an awful fear that Eli Perkins is going to lecture through the South.— Boston Post, A SWALLOW-TAIL coat is called full-driss for aman, Puck wears one. So does the ring- master of a tent-pole circus—Mew Oricans Picayune without key, Beecuer will take his regiment to Canada very soon, Low-necked uniforms have been provided for this branch of the church mili- tant.— MV. H. Register. Jourwatiss is a noble calling.— Cleveland Herald.—\n which respect it muchly resembleth the Marquis of Lorne yelling for his first lord- in-waiting.— Boston Yraveler. LawreENce Barrett pays the highest rental for a summer cottage that is paid in Massachu- setts. £x. How can you call him Low rents Barrett after that ?—Cin. Sat, Might. A CINCINNATI woman yesterday knocked down her husband with a brick, and when the policeman came running up she was looking around for the brick to kiss it.— Cincinnati Enquirer. “ Esau has been the “ hairy fool” of history for thousands of years,” says the Chicago /a- ter Ocean, Indeed, why, we thought Senator Burnside succeeded him’ several years ago.— Phila Kronikle-Herald, Aw Easter that doesn’t produce seven hun- dred puns of the “eggs-traordinary” and “‘eggs- aggerated” kind, may be set down as a failure. There should be a law imposing solitary im- prisonment for life on the paragraphist who employs this sort of pun when speaking of eggs.—Norr. Herald. ‘Tue Chief of Police in St. Petersburg has resigned, but the Czar won't accept his resig- nation, and the poor man expects to be shot in his tracks every moment. Better be a humble policeman locusting an inoffensive citizen in New York than the chief of the “force” in St. Petersburg.— Detroit Free Press, A pispatcH from Cairo, Egypt, announces that Mohammed Tewpick, President of the Council, has resigned: ‘I'he reason is not given, but we suspect that the punster of the Cairo Weekly Bugl: was the occasion. He probably enraged the President by calling him a wooden ‘Tew(sh)pick.— Pittsburgh Telegraph, Tue “unccmmon anxiety” of some para- graphers to “ get ahead ” of somebody else has led them to reach into the “ beyond” for topics. Now, what is the use of bringing on green-apple colic three months in advance of its proper season? Is there a carminative con- spiracy on foot?—Mew Haven Register. TatkinG about paying the interest on the public debt, why shouldn’t the government tax walking-matches at so much a lap? If the scorer were compelled to cancel a two-cent stamp at the end of every quarter-mile we could call in the four-per-cents before half the fools in the country were exhausted.—San Francisco Post, E. C. Stepman sings, in Serténer, “Why should I fear to sip The sweets of each red lip?” Why? Because Mr. Stedman, you have a con- viction that the gloomy looking old gentleman in the background, with blood in his eye and a cane like the angel of death in his hand, will make a poultice of you, if you do any such sampling while he is in reach.— Hawkeye,