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Throe Minutes' Walk to
Ten Minutes' to Bright-J
To Which Point Sapid
Transit is Insured.
Thirty Minutes' Drive
On a Fine Iload to
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situated as those which we offer you at South Takoma for less than ten to twenty-five cents per foot ? This is 300 to
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Promises even better results, as it has the advantage of the built-up community of the Park to start with. It is
nearer the city by one mile, and a lot can be purchased for less money than would be paid for adjacent farm lands.
We offer this property at the remarkably low price of 3 cents per square foot and upward, not on the in
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and they will be quickly disposed of. -1
For further particulars apply to
BAB DISLIKES HER.
SHE SCORES THE RELIGIOUS HYPO
CRITE IN PETTICOATS.
A New York Woman Who Writes Hymns
Wliile Her Husband Finds a Place In
the Heart of Another "Woman "Women
Were Not Made for Clubs Astral and
Material Bodies A Story of Madame
Correspondence of The Sunday Herald.
New York, June 12. The New York woman
of to-day Is nothing 11 not literary. She either
writes poetry, novels, hymns, essays on how
o be happy in various Btates, or else she
translates. For my own part, I'm afraid of
ner. She is impertinent to the last degree,
for she has an idea that she knows more than
anybody else in the world, and that you are
yearning to be informed of this fact. A very
condescending young woman said to me the
other day: "Don't you even translate ?" With
a weakness that was new to me I confessed
that I did not, and she said that it was a
great pity. I thought it was, too. A very
fashionable woman is given over to writing
hymns hymns which are, as she describes
them, "spiritual, with a sufficient amount of
material to be appreciated even by a sinner."
She showed me one, and, as a representative
sinner, I must confesB the meter was very
much like Swinburne's "Faustlne," and that
the whole thing was simply bosh. This was
the first verse :
When the essence divine lookB out from your
And the downcast soul is Impelled to arise,
That the worldly Joys do, dear, this day.
Fade like the sun's last warm sweet ray,
WHERE RELIGION IS A SIIIELD.
The misguided woman, who, like Mr. Silat
Wegg, has "dropped into poetry," is having
her hymns printed for private circulation, and
the covers are the most beautiful things you
ever saw of white, with fleur de lis in gold
upon them, and a clasp that looks more like
the three feathers of the Prince of Wales
than the French flower. It is rather interest
ing to know a little about the life 01 a woman
of this sort. Curiously enough, the hymu
writiug being is married, and speaks of her
husband as a "kind but sinning 60ul," and of
her marriage as "one where there is no sym
pathy, but a mutual agreement to let each
seek that which seems best uuto his soul."
Now, I respect everybody's belief, but I re
gard that woman as a propercaudldateforthe
whipping post. Her home is full of fine fur
niture, and yet is altogether such a wretched
place that the sinning husband has been driven
to finding what is good for his soul at his
club and in the au'eqtionof other, women.
The lady who does theuymns find prayer
meetings and pet preachers sufficient for her,
and consequently her husband Is nt needed.
Some H&y she will have to die, and when she
dgee I don't think that hymns will be a6 sat
TE SUNDAY HERALD, STJNIXA.Y.
SIOF STiEtESiE!1 IJFOiOLTIITTirESST.
isfactory to her as she thinks, and it won't be
very pleasant to have recalled to her all she
might have been to the man she swore to
love, honor, and obey until death did them
part. Doesn't your heart throb when you
think of the women who use religion as a
shield for their own coldness and selfishness ?
And don't you feel like having them taken
some place and killed in some horrible way ?
They are the women who injure the cause
of loving kindness and make men the worst
of sinners. I get very enthusiastic about this,
because I despise a hypocrite.
SOULS OUTSIDE IIEIi HOME.
Every afternoon there 'drives up the avenue
a handsome, bold-looking woman, superbly
dressed, whose turnout is in the very latest
style. Men refer to her in low tones and
women pretend not to see her ; but everybody
in New York knows who "pays the freight."
We will call him Mr. Brown. Mr. Brown's
sons are wild, fast men. His only daughter
eloped with a man whoso character is more
than merely questionable, and his wife, a
ratherncutral,delicate-looking woman, has the
sympathy of all New York even the sinners
among men feel sorry for her. Now, she
don't deserve it. She is the cause of all
the trouble. Years ago, when her children
were babies, she became a religious enthusi
ast, and got a general taste for saving the
souls of all the people in the world, which
usually means meddling in other people's af
fairs. She grew so spiritual (?) that her hus
band was driven from her room in order that
she might bo better able to pray, or sing a
hymu or two, at all hours of the night. A
mau may stand thU for a little while, but he
is pretty certain to rebel, and, of course, this
one did. He fought desperately for a time
to keep his wife's interest in his soul and her
love for him, but he gave iu after awhile,
and sought somebody who was less inter
ested in souls generally and more in him per
sonally. She had no time to attend to her
children j they never kuew what it was to be
with their mother, and hear all the dear,
sweet stories, and learn to sing the merry
tunes of childhood at her feet,
nOW A WOMAN l'ltEACHES EST.
Oh, dear, no ! They were let alone, and, as
children always learn wickedness easier than
they do virtue, they simply went to the devil
in their own way. Now, sho moans over their
coudition, but goes on Iu her own path, being
specially conspicuous wherever a woman can
most effectually make a donkey of herself.
Blessed bo St. Paul for advising that woman
keep quiet in the churches ! And blessed bo
St. Paul the second time for the other good
talkingstohe gaye women, and which mean
love and take care of your husbands and babies
and your own kin. "Oh," says Madamo
Prim, "then we aro not to look for the sinner6
outside." My dear, I think not. That is,
not until the sinners at homo have all been
reformed and aro willing to help the preacher,
A woman preaches best by deeds, not words,
aud the success she makes in her own house
hold will give her a higher position as a mis
sionary than that which she gains out.
Sfl IT1!1 IT
II II 1 II
METROPOLITAN BRANCH B. Atfl) 0. H. R.
' T 11 "D 1
WOMEN WERE NOT MADE TOR CLU11S.
Somebody took the trouble to write to me
about my opinion of women's clubs. It was a
very nice letter, but I still maintain that
woman is not a clubbable creature. One dear,
little dot told me that she didn't join a club
because she didn't like the president. Isn't
that a delightfully feminine reason? And
Isn't it entirely different from a man's ? Ho
would have joined to be one more to put out
the disliked president or else would have
taken all the advantages of the club, ignored
tho president entirely until election time, and
then be an ardent worker in tho opposition.
To be personal, I must say that I am a bit
conservative. With that, and with the fact
that I like a slight leaven of masculinity in
my amusements, as I do a lump of sugar iii
my tea, I know I should never do for a
woman's club. I have never heard such a lot
of milk-and-water speeches in my life as I did
during the time that I belonged to one, God
forgive me ! and I never heard, even in a sew
ing society, that you couldn't give a reason for
something, because the president and secre
tary, or whoever tho grand mogul might be,
happened to object to your having a reasoning
mind. But they do that in women's clubs.
ASTRAL AND MATERIAL 110DIES,
I should think that clubs were meant to be
interesting places, but women always want to
make them pulpits for the promulgation of
philanthropic ideas and markets for tho in
terchange of extremely largo words. I like a
large word, when I know what it means, but
when it comes to microbes and the unforseeu
of tho how, and tho management of tho astral
body as superior to the material one, I am
in the minority I am, 60 to say, frozen out.
I would rather see tho dimple in Delia Fox's
shoulder than all tho astral bodies that ever
pranced around tho earth, when they ought
to have been enjoying themselves in a place
dedicated to astral bodies, and the name of
which I have forgotten. A woman's club
seems to be a place where there is an immense
"B" for brains, an overwhelming "W" for
woman, a small "m" for man, a very small
"d" for dress, and a general belief that if
a woman has on a very pretty gown she rep
resents total depravity, and her morals are to
A LITTLE WOMAN OF 8ENBE.
I once sacrificed a pair of gloves to a woman
who said what she felt like. Sho was small
herself, and sho spelt man with a largo M.
Sho-loved him with an extra-sized II for a
heart, and she looked pretty because ho liked
her to. She was frightened out of her wits,
and it was only the consciousness that her
tailor-mado frock camo from Rcdfern's that
gave her courage to 6ay anything at all. But
6he told them that sho didn't want to com
pete with men, and sho didn't want to bo
treated by men as a man, but preferred to bo
treated as a woman, and as long as sho did
good work she wanted to have all tho favors
possible shown her, because she was a
woman. Now, that's good sense, But it's
something we 6eldoin hear in women's clubs.
I tru6t most earnestly that what I have said
JUNE 14, 1891.
will not deter tho young woman who wrote to
me from joining tho club. Her salvation or
tho other state is in her own hands, and I
wouldn't interfere with her for worlds. Let
her do as Is customary in the plunge in tho
Russian bath, tumble in and risk drowning.
A STOUT OF MADAME BLAVATSKV.
Nobody is anybody to-day who hasn't got a
story to tell about Madamo Blavatsky. Mine
may be old, but some chestnuts are agreoa
ble. The story was told to me in London.
It appears that a number of years ago, when
the mysterious madamo went out rather more
than she did lately, that sho succumbed to
that diabolical something known as a picnic,
and was one among many of a party of clever
people who were inclined to disbelieve her
theory but were too polite to say so. Luncheon
was spread out, and, aB is usual at these
doubtful feasts, cups and plates were not
alike, and every woman with real feminine
vanity had brought her very best
china. As they were drinking the tepid tea,
a man dropped a cup. It broke Into two
pieces, and the woman to whom It belonged,
not mistress of herself when china foil, caned
out: "Oh, that's one of my Royal Dresden
pieces." Madamo Blavatsky inquired if it
were very fine. She was told that it was; that
it could not bo matched, and that there were
only four others like it in tho world. She
said: "And you'd llko to have It back?"
And the woman to whom It belonged simply
looked at her tearfully and said nothing. Tho
madamo sat there, looked at the ground for
awhile, and suddenly from somewhere a three
cornered note fell at her feet. It seems to
come from tho skies. She picked it up, and,
without moving, asked: "Where were tho
pieces of that cup?" Everybody looked;
they were gone, vanished,
MADAME OPENED TIIE NOTE,
read It, and passed it around. On it, writton
In ink that was scarcely dry, were tho words,
"Search for the cup under the oak tree at the
left," and tho name signed to it was that of
tho Indian astral body, or whatever it was,
who was always Madame Blavatsky's good
spirit, At first thoro was am Inclination to
laugh, and at last ono man said: "I'm going
to try and see what is under tho tree." So,
getting a spade from a farm-house near, ho
began to dig. After a while the fino roots of
the oak tree, those queer little ones that spread
out like wires, were reached, and under them,
with other roots grown through its handle and
around it, apparently unbroken, was tho cup.
Now, that tree was hundreds of years old;
there wasn't a human being in that party who
knew Madamo Blavatsky but her hostess; tho
cup belonged to a woman who had never heard
of her, and tho man who broke it really did it
by accident, and was horribly mortified at his
awkwardness. The cup was taken out with a
knife, and it was mended exactly through the
centre, where It had been broken 1 I don't
ask anybody to believe this story. I confess
to thinking It very strange myself, but it was
told to mo last year in London as being really
the most marvelous thing that Madamo Bla
vatsky had over done and the one about which
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there had been the least talk. I forgot to say
sho didn't know where she was going when
she started, and it would have been impossible
for her to have buried the cup or to have it.
ready beforehand, for the people who Invited
her were divided as to where their picnic
should be, and it was only at tho last moment
that they concluded exactly wheio they would
go. Queer, wasn't it?
a woman's nArriEST beliefs.
But there are lots of queer things in this
world. And between you and me. I think
it's juBt as well not to dabble ,,too much In tho
queer things, or to make efforts to explain
them. To take life simply is tho happiest
state for any human being. What do I mean
by that ?
I mean to be able to believe that the good
God is over us all, and 16 going to do the best
I mean to think that husbands aud wives,
parents and children, love each other.
I mean to believe that all flowers smell
sweet, that all women are good, and that all
men are honest.
I mean to believe in hope, to have faith, and
to cling closely to charity.
I mean to bo hospitable, to bohouest in your
greeting, and to give to tho stranger that
which you have.
I mean to try and think of things at' their
best, and to try aud do your best.
I mean to have some of your kindly fceliug
and some of your charity for a woman, who,
if sho sometimes Is enthusiastic and sometimes
doe6tn't agree with you, sometimes says such
things that aro of little worth, is, after all,
trying to do her best to please you. Who is
sho? Sho's Bab.
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