Puck — December 3, 1879 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

PUCK, 631 AWFUL PROGHOSTICATIONS OF AN ANONYMOUS JEREMIAH. A DAMNING CHAIN OF CRIME, IMMINENT RUIN MENACING THE COUNTRY THROUGH THE DIABOLICAL DEVICES OF THE SHERMAN FAMILY. pa ALL FOR 10 CENTS. “em We have received the following communi- cation. Editor of Puck as you are the only independant pa- per in New York we hope you will make public this facts which everyone know to be true: first Gen,l Sher- man wife is a Catholic and a great fren’d of Cardinal McCloskeys: also that Senator Blane is a relative of Jobn Shermans wife: And Genl Ewing of Ohio is also a relative of Shermans so Blane Sherman Ewing are all related and Everyone of Irish origin: and Catholic also: they may keep the knowledge of such truth from the people but; when Jobn Sherman: Can influence John Kelly to Split the Democratic party and keep the Irish vote for him at the Presidental Election Especially if John Sherman can give John Kelly the Government money to sustain John Kelly in his design: on the pro- mis that some favors will be Extended by Jobn Sherman to the Church of Rome to have another Cardina/ or a Pope;—Recollect John Sherman would do anything for pow and the Church of Rome would do the same: so keep a look-out for John Sherman and John Kelly and Cardinal McCloskey: and you will soone find out that John Kelly goes over to John Sherman: and John Sher- man will be nominated for the Presidency under the name of Republicanism when in truth he is nothing but a Church of Rome despot—Gen,| Shermans only Son is a Priest in England under Cardinal Manning; the Sher- mans are all Catholics. The communication is not signed. TALES OF FASHIONABLE LIFE. Vi. THE MASHER MASHED. A TALE OF THE PYRENEES. CHAPTER I. SHE, «The daily sun ne'er shone on maid so fair.” —Dasa, T was a lovely day in latter part of August. Marguerite L. E. Campane had strolled from the hotel, and, tempted by the balmy air of the afternoon, had ascended the hill. She stood upon a broad plateau, at the top of the hill, As she stood there, leaning upon her alpen-stock, she presented a picture as beauti- ful as a poet’s dream. Her lovely eyes, of hazel hue, had that sort of languid dreaminess about them, which has always been so powerful a charm to the males of the upper circles of the aristocracy. The vast qualities of dainty brown hair which was fluffed upon her brow and hung in ringlets down her neck, would have cap- tured the heart of the queen's hair-dresser. Evidently on some occasion, when Phidias had gone around the corner to see a man, his chisel had been used to carve her Grecian profile. Her complexion was as dazzlingly white as that of a nearly defunct consumptive indivi- dual. Her face was rather thin and her form rather slender, but her bust was full and rounded. Nineteen years had she dwelt upon this sublunary sphere. She was alone with nature, and, as nature is proverbially dumb, she communed with her thoughts. Evidently, however, something was wrong about the communion, Perhaps she had struck the thought that she had not told her papa of her last dressmaker’s bill. At all events she shook her head impatiently, woke from her reverie, and gazed a-down the path. Some- thing she saw there sent the blood to her cheeks. CHAPTER II. HE. “If she'd the world to choose from, she'd choose him.” —Hvrwert. ‘The path up the hill ran in front of the plateau upon which Marguerite was standing; in fact, it ran within a few feet of a deep preci- pice, As Marguerite looked down the path she saw ascending it a young man, Airily he moved along the edge of the precipice, as compla- cently as if he were waltzing in a parlor. As Marguerite looked at hira, he turned his large heavenly blue orbs upon her. No wonder the blood danced in her cheeks; he was almost to sweet to live. Never before had nature sketched such a hero. Broad massive shoulders tapered down into a waist as dainty as a woman's, His features had been cut by the chisel of Phidias —lI mean of Praxiteles; the chisel of Phidias must have an occasional rest. His golden hair and moustache set off his features charmingly. Dressed in a suit of clothes of the latest cut, which had been hung up only a week, he moved along the path the very personification of manly beauty. Bragelonne de Beaumair was known all through Southern France as the breaker of hearts, He was popularly called the “lady killer,” and when he cast his optics upon a damsel fair, all other mashers gave way to him. His conquests had been so numerous that he had begun to sigh for pastures new, and here, almost thrown in his face, was the fairest maid he had ever seen. CHAPTER IIL. THEY. *«O tempora, tempora!""—JONEs. Times were not what they were. Once upon a time, when a maiden met a youth, she cast her eyes upon the ground and hastened to her governess. Once upon a time, when a youth saw a maiden, he turned aside and has- tened on his way, avoiding temptation. At least that is what our grandfathers say, Now- a-days things are different. As Bragelonne moved along the path, he threw out his manly chest and touched his shoes occasionally with his cane, When he was directly in front of her he raised his hat; she slightly bowed to him. “ Pardonnes-mot, mademoiselle,” he said in silvery tones, “if I observe that the weather is charming.” (He spoke French with the Lyons accent. Iam compelled, however, to translate his words, because the editor says that his groceryman subscribes for this paper, and that, every time any foreign words appear in the paper, the groceryman gets even by giving short weight in the way of sugar, and things.) “You have a raisin, Monsieur,” said Mar- guerite. (She used the best, the very best boarding- school French, I translate for the reason stated above. I always try to translate literally, and 1 am not to be seduced into translating vous avez raison as if it meant, “you are amply correct.” “Tr is a lovely day for a stroll,” remarked he, with one of his most killing smiles. He stvod with his faze turned to her and his back to the precipice. “See, mademoiselle,"” continued he as he moved slowly backward, ‘‘ how beautiful is the sky!” He had long been accustomed to study the graces of the various positions of the body be- fore a mirror. He knew when the posture he assumed was most heart-breaking to a maiden fair, As he gazed upon Marguerite he assumed all his favorite attitudes, and his eyes flashed as he saw her bosom swell and her cheek flush. He had unconsciously been moving backward while exhibiting his postures, and as he pre- pared to assume a posture which he knew would storm the very citadel of her heart, he sud- denly took a step backward, and— CHAPTER Iv. WHAT. Who to his ma will herald be of this ? —Bennerr. She had intended to cry out, had intended to warn him, but, like the bird fascinated by the serpent, she was speechless. Besides she had left her “French Conversation Made Easy” at the hotel, and when she tried to think of the French for “look out ” the French for ‘get out” would pop into her cranium. Of course she could not use such a vulgar ex- pression, and besides she wanted him to stay. The path, as has been stated, ran very near the edge of a yawning precipice a thousand fathoms deep. In his anxiety to mash the maiden at a single blow, Bragelonne had step- ped too far back, and, in a moment, he had unintentionally stepped over the edge of the precipice and hurled himself into eternity. Marguerite fell horror-struck upon the pla- teau, Her nerves were all unstrung. For half an hour she remained there motionless, Then she slowly regained command of herself, and rising to her feet she staggered down the path, 'Twas an hour, a long, dreary hour, ere she reached the hotel. There she told the tale. Six sturdy peasants, at the risk of their own lives, descended to the bottom of the preci- pice. Once there they found a shapeless mass, which they could scarcely believe had ever been human. “What!” exclaimed one, ‘‘can that be our beautiful Bragelonne ?” They would never have recognized him, if they had not found near the crushed human mass large quantities of the padding which had formed his broad, manly shoulders. They drew lots to determine who should bear the sad dispatched tidings to his mother, and havin; them sadly that messenger, the remainder o! bore his remains towards his home. CHAPTER V. Oh, loudly name the spot from the tribune! ‘Rei. All the foregoing happened among the Pyre- nees, Any traveler who is willing to spend a brief time in the cemetery at the foot of the mountains may there see his grave. Over it stands a white marble shaft, on which: is in- scribed, in the very best boarding - school French: x - L’ Ecraseur Ecrasé. Bragelonne sleeps there beneath the sod; Marguerite is in a convent. PUCK’S ANNUAL FoR 1880 will contain 124 solid pages of airy matter. The Emperor of China, Chow-Chow-Wang, has already telegraphed for 500° copies, and has promised, in con- sidcration of the prompt execution of the order, never to drown any more female babies. comicbooks.com