Childless with dogs (Google Books)

Savvy Auntie: The Ultimate Guide for Cool Aunts, Great-Aunts, …

Melanie Notkin – 2011 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
“What a wonderful gift this book is for aunties of all of ages, backgrounds, shapes and varieties!” —Elizabeth Gilbert, New York Times bestselling author of Eat, Pray, Love “Melanie Notkin shines a much-needed spotlight on a bond …
Publications D’ethnologie – Page 165

1970 – ‎Snippet view
On the other hand, when stray dogs in the village sometimes get into bloody fights, all women and children in the vicinity are likely to … Most often they belonged to childless women or to mothers whose children had grown up and left them.
My old people say: an ethnographic survey of Southern Yukon Territory

Catharine McClellan, ‎Canadian Ethnology Service, ‎Canadian Museum of Civilization – 2001 – ‎Snippet view – ‎More editions
On the other hand, when stray dogs in the village sometimes get into bloody fights, all women and children in the vicinity are likely to … Most often they belonged to childless women or to mothers whose children had grown up and left them.
Nobody’s Mother: Life Without Kids

Marlene A. D. Lynne Van Luven, ‎Lynne Van Luven – 2006 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
Nobody’s Mother is a collection of stories by women who have already made this choice. From introspective to humorous to rabble-rousing, these are personal stories that are well and honestly told.
Selfish, Shallow, and Self-Absorbed: Sixteen Writers on the Decision …

Meghan Daum – 2015 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
Selfish, Shallow, and Self-Absorbed makes a thoughtful and passionate case for why parenthood is not the only path in life, taking our parent-centric, kid-fixated, baby-bump-patrolling culture to task in the process.
Second-Chance Dogs: True Stories of the Dogs We Rescue and the Dogs …

Callie Smith Grant – 2018 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
This collection of more than thirty contemporary, true, feel-good stories spotlights the beauty of being rescued–dogs rescued by people, people rescued by dogs, and even dogs who rescue other animals.
On Toby’s Terms (a Dog Story with a Happy Ending)

Charmaine Hammond – 2010 – ‎Preview
The inside scoop from the Cupid of Beverly Hills, who has brought together countless couples who have gone on to live happily ever after.
Papers of the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, Harvard …

1947 – ‎Snippet view – ‎More editions
The two dogs fought. Small Boy said, “Ma, loose the dogs.” Small Boy took a knife. He cut the rope. The dogs ran. Pe called them, “Ta La … Man said to Childless Woman, “You don’t bear me children, I will not give you a cloth. I will clothe the …
No Kidding: Women Writers on Bypassing Parenthood

Henriette Mantel – 2013 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
This fascinating collection features a star-studded group of contributors—including Margaret Cho, Wendy Liebman, Laurie Graff, and other accomplished, funny women—writing about why they opted out of motherhood.
Women in a Man’s World, Crying: Essays – Page 49

Vicki Covington – 2002 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
buried our dog in the summer of 1993. Annie was born in our home December 13, 1982. That’s how long we’d had her. She was the blond runt of a fine litter of golden retrievers. We were childless in those days—infertile, we believed.

Motherhood Missed: Stories from Women Who Are Childless by Circumstance

Lois Tonkin – 2018 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
Featuring international interviews by grief counsellor and researcher Lois Tonkin, this collection of first-person stories provides insight into the under-discussed situation of being childless by circumstance.
Vick’s Illustrated Monthly Magazine – Volume 11 – Page 251

1888 – ‎Read – ‎More editions
“There are childless women who should feel self-condemned for pampering and petting lap-dogs, when so many human waifs go uncared for, except as public charity picks them up. A woman whose care of a homeless child finally develops a …
Vick’s Magazine – Volume 11 – Page 251

1888 – ‎Read – ‎More editions
There are childless women who should feel self-condemned for pampering and petting lap-dogs, when so many human waifs go uncared for, except as public charity picks them up. A woman whose care of a homeless child finally develops a …
Vick’s Monthly Magazine – Volume 11 – Page 251

1888 – ‎Read – ‎More editions
There are childless women who should feel self-condemned for pampering and petting lap-dogs, when so many human waifs go uncared for, except as public charity picks them up. A woman whose care of a homeless child finally develops a …
First Friend: A History of Dogs and Humans – Page 96

Katharine Rogers – 2010 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
Albert Payson Terhune extravagantly admired all dogs except “lap dogs — those excuseless excuses for caninity which childless women overfeed and underexercise.”15 Women who loved their little dogs were equally blamable whether they …
Otherhood: Modern Women Finding A New Kind of Happiness

Melanie Notkin – 2014 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
In Otherhood, author Melanie Notkin reveals her own story as well as the honest, poignant, humorous, and occasionally heartbreaking stories of women in her generation—women who expected love, marriage, and parenthood, but instead found …
The Arminian Skeleton: or, the Arminian dissected and anatomized … …

William HUNTINGTON (S.S.) – 1801 – ‎Read – ‎More editions
However, this discourse was not without effećt ; an aged woman, who fat very attentively to hear what the Bible, … of pretended lovers, It is common iņ our days to fee lapdogs in the eoaches of childless women, which would look better if filled …
Sketch For A Self Portrait

Bernard Berenson – 2013 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
Nor can I recall going back on a woman except one. Her I discovered … or enfeebled by age. Its most extravagant manifestations are among childless women, caressing, fondling, living for their lapdogs, but easily replacing them when they …

It is hard to reason myself out of the fear that I
am merely an affectionate, caressing creature, satis-


fying a need almost physiological, rather than a
person with a heart. I do not trust affectionateness
any more than amorousness, which in fact it replaces
when the other is congenitally feeble or enfeebled
by age. Its most extravagant manifestations are
among childless women, caressing, fondling, living
for their lapdogs, but easily replacing them when
they die. The fussiest exhibitions of this heartless-
ness are given by women who carry on a cruel war
against a poor carter who has not been as con-
siderate of his beast of burden as they would be to
a pet; or who take a malignant dislike to an ac-
quaintance who has clumsily trod on their spaniel’s
tail. I confess to a certain sympathy with the Nea-
politan peasant who answers the protestations of the
Anglo-Saxon spinster against his presumed unkind-
ness to his beast with ‘Won e cristiano” He is not
a human being. I share the reluctance of Holy
Church to give its blessing to societies for the pro-
tection of animals. But to return to affectionateness:
selfish and cruelly indifferent men and women who
would not lift a finger to help or comfort an ac-
quaintance not present would spare no trouble, no
expense, to procure for themselves the pleasure of
that person’s high spirits and jollity for so long
as he was with them.
Childless: A Novel

James Dobson, ‎Kurt Bruner – 2013 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
This eagerly awaited follow-up vividly imagines what happens when the abiding joys of parenthood are exchanged for the gradual deterioration of a CHILDLESS world.
Savvy Auntie: The Ultimate Guide for Cool Aunts, Great-Aunts, …

Melanie Notkin – 2011 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
“What a wonderful gift this book is for aunties of all of ages, backgrounds, shapes and varieties!” —Elizabeth Gilbert, New York Times bestselling author of Eat, Pray, Love “Melanie Notkin shines a much-needed spotlight on a bond …

The Arminian Skeleton: or, the Arminian dissected and anatomized … Second …
By William HUNTINGTON (S.S.)
About this book

Terms of Service

65 – 69

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people joyful. First thou teachest fouls to deny the doćtrines of the established Church, and then fendest them to church to confess them. They are taught to contradićt God, and then fent to mock him. Surely that charity can be of but little use to my foul that teaches me to give God the lie, and then draw out a wide mouth at him. O Charity, thou usest the tongue of the crafty, and diggest a pit for thy friends. Job vi. 27.

The whole work of pretended charity feems to be nothing elfe but reconciling Christ and Satan, truth and error, faints and finners, together. But the throne of iniquity shall have no fellowship with God, nor they who frame mischief by a law. Psalm xciv. 2o. What part bath he that believeth with an infidel ? I don’t know, Paul; yotrmuft ask Univerfal Charity this question; it is all her work. If a man was to bring into my house a troop of wizards, witches, heathens, robbers, and murderers, and unite them with me and my family, I should not think it a very charitable aćt : and those that couple Christ and Satan will find nothing but wrath from him for their pains. What is the chaff to the wheat ?

Surely the Saviour’s family, which he received in eternity, and redeemed from among men, are not to be thus jumbled together with pagans. But all this is the noble effećt of free-will, free-thinking, and pretended love. Pope fays, “ Though God bound nature fast in fate, yet he left free the human – E will.” will.” And he has acted with God and his faints as all free-willers do, namely, ftir heaven, earth, and heli together. But God’s gulfs are fixed, and no free-willer shall ever spread the fails of human merit, nor strengthen the mast of free-will, nor use the oar ofhuman excellency, to cross that unfathomable gulf. Isaiah xxxiii. 23. And, befides all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed ; Jo that they which would pass from bence to you cannot; neither can they pass to us that would come from thence. Luke xvi. 26.

Universal Charity operates wonderfully on that learned body the Deists. They discover the fame enmity against the fovereign God of the universe, and his revealed word, as the Arminians or papists do ; but are as tender of rebels and brutes as any on earth befide. I believe the doćtrine of Pythagoras sprung from this root, namely, the brutal paffions of unfanćtified nature : and we have many in our days who will advance errors to the destruction of many fouls, yet are fo tender of brutes and infećts, that they would kifs a fly, and difdain to hurt a worm.

Not long ago I was in company with a gentleman who makes a profession of Christ, and was to fpend the evening and lodge that night with him. . I found his head wonderfully stocked with the doctrines of the millennium, or Christ’s personal reign on earth a thousand years. I gave him to under

ftand that I believed the beavens must receive Christ

till the restitution of all things (Acts iii. 21); and that he would not be seen till he arose from athrone of grace, shut the door of mercy, and appeared on the throne of judgment; however, he had wonderful notions of the thousand years’ reign to come. I thought to-day I was to hear his voice, and that a heart established with grace was better thana head ftored with notions of a thousand years to come. Howevşr, he brought many strange things to my ears about it, and he is welcome to them; for my part, I must confess I love a religion that is near home-I mean in my heart; that I may enjoy it in

my pilgrimage through this miferable world. Having fat a while to have my head stuffed with these things-(only my head, I fay, for it went no deeper) the fecond entertainment was to be performed by Mrs. Charity. As foon as she came forth I expećted fomething new and strange, for the is very pregnant with her witty inventions. Here I was told that this millennium was to restore all things; brutes, fishes, creeping things, and infećts; all were to appear as when created: and he had fome hope of their falvation too, devils themfelves also not excluded. And to prop up his fancy, he brought this text of scripture; And every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and fuch as are in the Jea, and all that are in them, heard Ifaying, Bleffing, honour, glozy, and power, he unto him that fitteth upon the throne, anduntothe Lamb foreverandever. Rev.v. 13. * I 2 I fat


Î sat and argued with him till one o’clock in the morning, but to no purpose; he was too firmly eftablished to be moved with fuch weak arguments as mine. I therefore left him in his principles; and fince that time have taken care never to hear any more of them. This convinced me that Universal Charity is a resident in a carnal heart, but only a vifitor to God’s elect. I know a lady who is wonderfully influenced by it: she is like Saul ofold, a pharifee of the strićtest fećt; and charitable to all forts, except those crawling mortals called Whitefieldites. She cannot bear them nor their doctrine to be mentioned; but is very tender to any poor girl of the town whom the foul disease has rendered incapable of bufiness ; yet a poor honest married woman, who is rich in faith, and poor in pocket, would speed but badly if she went to her in the ‘ name of Jesus.

The innkeeper that we read of in Luke appears to be one of this fort; the inn was full, there was room for all but Joseph and Mary; they were of another lineage, therefore they must house in the ftable, though the blefied virgin was in the perils of childbirth. – .

I was informed that a minifter of the church of England once went on the thirtieth of January, to preach king Charles out of purgatory; in which discourse he painted the Presbyterians in very fable colours, but drew the king in very pathetic lines. Where he took his text I know not : but we all – ‘ ! know

* ** ** **


know that the Bible fays nothing against an honest Presbyterian, nor any thing in behalf of the author of massacres. However, this discourse was not without effećt ; an aged woman, who fat very attentively to hear what the Bible, or rather the priest, had to say, had her bowels of charity fo moved with fympathy for the king, that her cheeks were all bedewed with tears; and yet fo incensed against the Presbyterians, that she declared to an old diffenter, who fat next to her, that, if there had been a Prefbyterian as near her as he was, she would have run her knife into his heart. –

– It was well for the man who informed me that fhe was ignorant of his being one of that number. This fort of charity always flows two ways ; it runs up in rebellion, but down in compassion. I believe Herod was not destitute of it, for he was very tender of his brother’s wife–he could take her to his own bed rather than fend her home in the dark; and a great rewarder of fleshly excellency-he offered half his kingdom to reward a dancing foot; but in the matter of John, the Calvinist, he was rather fevere, as it generally happens with fuch fort of pre

tended lovers, It is common iņ our days to fee lapdogs in the eoaches of childless women, which would look better if filled with crippled infants, I have fome reason to fufpećt that Ahab had many of these hairy paffengers in his chariot, which caused Elijah, the falt of the earth and chariot of the nation, to run in the E 3 ftorm

Vick’s Illustrated Monthly Magazine, Volume 11
About this book

Terms of Service

248 – 252

Page images
In illustration of the winter storage of fruits, a subject of eager investigation at this time by fruit-growers, we here present some extracts and engravings from the Bulletin of May, of this year, prepared by Professor Roberts, and issued by the Agricultural Experiment Station at Cornell University. The engravings represent the method in which a dairy house has been constructed on the University farm. The plan and details are published by the Station “with the hope that some ideas


that may be of value to dairy farmers of the State can be gained from them, and that they may also be of use to those who wish to construct buildings for the storage of fruit, or dwelling houses in cold, windy localities. “Durability, convenience for work, and a cheap wall capable of excluding cold, heat and moisture were made prominent features in its construction. The foundation walls, laid below frost, were built by the farm hands out of small refuse stone and brickbats, water-lime and sand. “Planks were used to sustain the grout until the mortar was sufficiently hard to bind the mass together. The stones were placed in the mould about six inches deep, when thin mortar was poured upon them, then another layer of stone and more mortar, and so on till the wall was carried to the top of the planks. In about three hours it had hardened enough so that the mould could be raised and the work proceeded with without injury to the wall. No stone should touch the plank, or the wall will be disturbed when the mould is raised. “Stones varying from ten pounds to five ounces were used to form the foundation of the floor; the larger stones were placed at the bottom, the mass thoroughly saturated with water and all forced into the earth with a heavy wooden pounder. A thin coat of gravel was next spread over the whole and solidified in the same way. When the superstructure was completed the mass was again wet and treated with Fig 2-verrical section a coat of thin mortar composed of four parts of sand and one OF WALL AND ROOF. of water-lime, and this solidified as above. When sufficiently hard to sustain the workmen, the whole was covered with a coat three-quarters of an inch thick made of three parts sand and one of Rosendale cement. Akron cement is better than water-lime and equally as good as Rosendale. After about twenty-four hours the floor was sprinkled will water, and also whenever thereafter it had the appearance of drying too rapidly. The floor appears to depart too much from a straight line; but a long use of the building shows that this is the best form. Racks placed near the walls form level shelves upon which to place ‘” and pails. The descent from end to end of the building is about six 24


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three-quarter building. The wall has four dead-air spaces, formed by three divisions of paper placed perpendicularly, and the outside and inside boarding. “To construct the paper partitions (b, Fig. 3.) between the studding, strong building paper was cut to half width and bent thus – and secured by nailing common lath to the studs. To form the outside and inside divisions, (a, a, Fig. 3.) paper full width, reaching from top of plate to bottom of sill, and lapped on alternate studs was secured by nailing strips one by two inches to the faces of the studding. The rafters are so framed that the air can pass freely upwards between the roof boards and the ceiling of the upper room (see arrow, Fig. 2), and out at the extreme gable ends through a latticed window, not shown in diagram. By this simple contrivance a current of air is kept constantly passing beneath the roof boards, which keeps the upper room cool in summer, but not warm enough in winter to prevent freezing, unless there is a fire in the lower room. In dwelling houses, this space should be closed by notching the frieze board around the rafters and extending it upward till it meets the lower side of the roof board. The windows should be either double or double-glazed. The partition and door dividing the work room from the cold room is constructed the same as the outside walls. The joists of the second floor are covered with heavy paper on the bottem and top before the ceiling and floor are laid. The inside of all the rooms are


covered with matched Georgia Pine and treated with two coats of hard oil. “The cold room has been tested and found entirely satisfactory, not only for dairy purposes, but for keeping Apples and Grapes. “In very cold localities the walls for fruit houses should be made thicker than shown, by using studding six or eight inches wide, so that the two inside air spaces may contain a greater amount of confined air.” Only the figures that serve to show the construction are here reproduced, and all are made on the scale of three-fourths of an inch to one foot. ––HORTICULTURAL GATHERING. The first meeting of the season of the Chautauqua Horticultural Society was held Saturday, June 23d, at DUNCAN’s Lake Shore Vineyards, North East, Pa. Three hundred people were present, and a lively interest showed in fruit matters. The farm, or fruit garden, with the foregoing name, has one hundred and ten acres, very handsomely situated on gently rolling upland and lying on both sides of the highway. There is a large Catawba vineyard of considerable age. A great part is comparatively new vineyard. One hundred acres are planted to vines, eighty acres now in bearing. The varieties are twenty acres Catawba, four acres Delaware, three acres Ives, the balance Concord. The yield last season was one hundred tons, which sold for $6,ooo. When this vineyard shall have reached full maturity, and with the improved modern methods of trellising and thorough tillage made possible, and, in fact, easy by the improved cultivators of today, it is safe to say the yield of last season will be trebled, if not increased fourfold. Mr. DUNCAN, the proprietor, is a very enthusiastic horticulturist, owning another large vineyard in the town. In the discussion considerable was said as to the cause of the loss of vines set in the spring of 1887, on the premises of Mr. DRAKE. These vines received excellent care, and made a large growth,

but were badly killed during the winter.

Two theories were advanced, one that it was due to the land overflowing with water and subsequently freezing, the other that it was due to excessive use of fertilizers rich in nitrogen, inducing a rank growth deficient in woody fiber and not hardy enough to endure the winter. Very great trouble has been experienced the past spring, in this region, by reason of the cut-worm, and Messrs. RYCKMAN and SCHOENFELD said if we would be rid of the cut-worm we must protect the skunks, their natural enemy and destroyer. It was pronounced a shame that small boys are allowed to roam the fields, gun in hand, to shoot useful animals. Mr. RycKMAN said the prospect for a large crop of Grapes, this season, was good. He said there were Concords set for a yield of six to eight tons per acre. A splendid dinner was served, the North East Band furnishing music. The afternoon exercises were enlivened by fine singing by a Glee Club, two of the selections being “Don’t Sell the Farm,” and “Hail to the Farmer.” This June 23d, fields of Clover are cut and in the barn, Grapes most varieties in full blossom, Barley, of which large fields are raised hereabouts, is very short owing to dry weather. Peaches are a good crop, whereas, in Chautauqua county they are a failure. It is found that in these dry seasons late planted Potatoes sometimes do best, and we saw large fields just coming up. Mr. CALVIN LEET exhibited a superb plate of Jessie Strawberries, also Cumberland. The former attracted much attention, being nearly the size of the Sharpless, and no white tips. S. S. CRISSEY. –—OUR NATIONAL FLOWERS. Some one has named the Trailing Arbutus as our national flower, and to this the American Florist objects, on the ground that it is not common to all parts of the country, and at the same time nominates the Pansy for the position. The objection made to the Arbutus, and which is valid, has still greater force

against the Pansy, which is common to no part of the country, but is a garden variety of a European plant. Our own preference on this point was made known several years since, in these pages, when writing of Golden Rods and Asters, in the following words: “After midsummer, in this country, our rural landscape is everywhere brightened by the Golden Rods and Asters; they form a distinct and beautiful feature of the scenery. The eyes of our countrymen are everywhere gladdened by their smiles, north and south, east and west, on the hills and the mountain sides, in the valleys and on the broad prairies, by the roadsides and the streams, and in the fields and copses they stand as tokens of the genial heat that brings from the soil the golden grains and the beautiful, luscious fruits. No other country in the zworld is thus characterized, these plants belong to America, and as such should be our pride and delight.” * * * * * + + + + “While, on this continent, there are from sixty to seventy species, and perhaps more, of the Solidagos, or Golden Rods, and nearly all of them of vigorous habit, growing from a foot to eight feet in height, all the world besides affords less than a dozen, and these, for the most part, of small size, and confined to few localities of limited area, and always in such small numbers as to make them rare plants. “The species of Asters, in this country, are still more numerous than those of the Golden Rod. Both are the children of the sun, basking in his favors and reflecting his smiles. Although many indigenous species of flowers are peculiar to this country, yet none so abound and apparently claim possession as these. And

grouped together they might appropriafely be taken as our national flowers, emblems of endurance, vigor, light and freedom.”


A second – HAND STORY.


“No, Agnes, dear, I do not approve of lap-dogs. I never saw but one which interested me as such. They usually absorb care and attention – not to say money—that should be given to some higher interest, while the occasional sacrifice of life from their rabid tendencies is a bitter penalty. “There are childless women who should feel self-condemned for pampering and petting lap-dogs, when so many human waifs go uncared for, except as public charity picks them up. A woman whose care of a homeless child finally develops a worthy member of society does a noble work for both time and eternity. Moreover, she is likely to be fully repaid by grateful help and genuine love in return, at a time when such love and help corne to be most valued. “If there are exceptions to this result, so there are to every worthy effort in life. We must not, therefore, cease trying to do good. Place such a woman beside one who has spent her time, care and silly endearments upon a dog, and how do they compare?” “O, auntie, how strongly you put it.” “Not at all. I’ve referred to the two cases in the simplest language possible. It is only that the latter case will not bear comparison with the former. Although you are too young, my dear, to assume grave responsibilities, you are not too young to form correct ideas for future guidance.” “I suppose not, for already I feel differently about lap-dogs for pets. But they are such cunning little things.” “Yes, and so are birds, squirrels and rabbits; even little pigs, clean and white, are very cunning.” “So they are; but, auntie, if lap-dogs were not intended for special pets, pray tell me for what they were created.” “I can no more tell you that than I can tell you for what rats, moles and mosquitoes were created, in common with various other annoying animals and in

sects. But I can tell you this—they were all of them created to take care of themselves. It is only when their native habits are interfered with that they cannot do this. Of course, when man domesticates animals for his use or pleasure, he must take care of them. But, however persistently certain people may continue to make pets of useless dogs, you may always feel sure that the Deity never made a four-legged creature for a woman’s lap. He never made a lap-dog. Now we’ll change the subject.” “Not yet, auntie, please. I can’t forget the one lap-dog that interested you ‘as such.” Will you not tell me about it?” “That was a slip of the tongue, dear. I was much more interested in its young owner. If I were to tell you her story I should have to condense it and spoil it, for the carriage will soon be here.” “Never mind that—I’m story-hungry and can’t wait.” “Well, we met on a lake steamer, and it was her dog that led the way to her telling me her history, one day, when we were sitting on deck quite apart from the rest, she on a low seat with her dot of a dog at her feet. She was occupied, as usual, with her double-hemstitching of yards and yards of rufflings, made of the sheerest of Irish linen cambric. She said it was for her sister’s child, which child was the only being in the world in whose veins ran a drop of their blood—hers and her sisters—and that nothing seemed too precious for it. “As we sat there, idly chatting, or dreamily listening to the swash of the water and the labored chug and grind of engine and gearing, she finally dropped her work in her lap, and, bowing her head, covered her eyes with her hand. Her dog, always on the alert, instantly sprang into her lap, and putting a paw upon either cheek, began crying most piteously. As soon as she raised her hand a little and smiled, he jumped down and frolicked as though over-joyed.

“‘Ditto thought I was crying, she said. “One would suppose,” I remarked, “that so young a person as you seem to be, could never have cried enough for him to know what it means. “‘I’ve cried oceans of tears, she responded, quietly, “but I never shall again —no matter what may happen. I am only twenty, and have been married two years. But my troubles commenced when a child—mine and my sister’s. I have had Ditto three years, he crossed the ocean and back with me, or I think I could part with him now, for I’ve seen so much silliness exhibited by the owners of lap-dogs that I dislike to have the credit of possessing one. I have tried giving him away, but he pines and will not eat and is soon returned to me to save his life. You see he is a dog of one idea,’ she laughed, “his sole interest being centered in me.” “May I not know more of your history, I inquired. Your remarks have inspired a deep interest. “‘Yes, you may, she replied, ‘because I think you are one to appreciate it. Our parents died of yellow fever, in the south, when I was too young to realize my loss, though I well remember the shock and sorrow of it. Our father’s brother, the only relative left us, was there, and with his strong arms about me, I remember of feeling so sheltered and safe on his broad chest, as he rocked and soothed me or carried me about, that I felt I could be comforted if only my sister would stop weeping and sobbing, for I was sure she knew just how much need there was for crying, and just how long it should be continued. The poor girl being older, appreciated more, and was nearly heartbroken. “‘In a few days afterward we found ourselves, with our black nurse and white governess, established in our uncle’s bachelor house. He was very fond of us, often saying that we were all he had left in the world, and that we were to be his own precious daughters. Thus two years glided happily away, when, one day, he returned from an autumn hunt with a sore throat and cough. His party had camped out, and there had been a drenching rain. “‘As the days passed by he seemed surprised that his cough got no better and that his sore throat had lapsed into

a settled hoarseness. One day, he said, “Girls, why don’t you charm this trouble away. I never was sick, and I don’t know what it means. Then my sister bustled around and made a hot lemonade, and ordered a foot-bath, as she’d seen our mother do, after which she coaxed him to bed and rubbed his throat and chest with some irritating mixture, while I tucked up his feet and limbs, he joking the while about us two little midgets trying to make him think he was sick. “‘But he grew no better, and our governess said he ought to have a physician, for sometimes quick consumption and bronchitis began in that way. So we hurried to tell him what she said, and at first he laughed at the idea of having a doctor; but when we had told him all, was silent a minute, and then said, slowly, as though talking to himself, “Quick consumption l if there is any chance for that I’ve got it already. Jucco, his body servant, soon had a doctor on hand, who examined his chest a long time, and then scolded everybody, black and white, because he had not been sent for sooner. “‘By this time sister and I were actually terrified lest we were about to lose our last remaining relative and protector. Fleeing to our old nurse and governess, our cries and lamentations could not be restrained until they reminded us that we might be of great comfort to our uncle by being bright and cheery in his presence, and that unless we could be so, we could not be allowed in his room— now, when he would be so lonely without us. With such incentive for cheerfulness we soon repressed all outward signs of grief, and bathing our faces, hastened softly to his room. As we approached the open door we saw him throw up his arms and turn over to the wall, exclaiming: “‘I don’t want to die want to die! “‘That was enough ; we turned and silently fled, lest our bursting hearts should cry out in his hearing. With arms clasped about each other, we were suddenly conscious of a new feeling—our own trouble was eclipsed by sorrow for our uncle; we were so sorry, sorry for him—he did not want to die—oh, if we could only save him for that; we quite forgot ourselves in our pity for the great,

Harper’s Magazine – Volume 152 – Page 352

1926 – ‎Snippet view – ‎More editions
make a dog an ideal pal or guard. I do not refer to lap dogs — those excuseless excuses for caninity which childless women overfeed and underexercise. Yet, even the lap dog has his points of superiority over man. We keep lap dogs indoors, …
Women Without Children: The Reasons, the Rewards, the Regrets

Susan S. Lang – 1996 – ‎Snippet view – ‎More editions
Explores the lives of women from a variety of backgrounds who never had children and examines their feelings about their “child-free” state
The Ethics of Medical Homicide and Mutilation – Page 236

Austin O ́Malley – 2018 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
Probably ninety-five per cent. of the childless women had used contraceptive methods, yet there are few forces better able to hold the marriage knot tied as it … One decent mother is worth a hundred shirkers who raise nothing but lap dogs.
The American Magazine – Volume 32 – Page 690

1891 – ‎Read – ‎More editions
She bore herself like a daughter toward the childless woman. * ” Lepel’s death lias blotted out all his … Well, I saw two women inside the vehicle — one young, one old — and some fluffy lapdogs. All belonged, without doubt, to the four hundred …
Frank Leslie’s Popular Monthly – Volume 32 – Page 690

Frank Leslie – 1891 – ‎Read – ‎More editions
She bore herself like a daughter toward the childless woman. ” Lepel’s death has blotted out all his … Well, I saw two women inside the vehicle — one young, one old — and some fluffy lapdogs. All belonged, without doubt, to the four hundred.
Sex Knowledge – Page 70

Norah Helena March – 1922 – ‎Snippet view – ‎More editions
When a childless woman directs her motherhood interests to an infatuated care of cats, lap-dogs, and canaries, she is much more to be pitied than to be blamed, for her peculiarity is the result of unsatisfied desires, probably unconscious ones, …
Colin II – Page 49

Edward Frederic Benson – 1994 – ‎Snippet view – ‎More editions
… true appreciation of her fiery magnificence and courage as well as of those aged tendernesses of a childless woman who makes an idol of a boy or a lapdog to quench the thirst of her virginity. No lapdog indeed, was Colin, he could stand up …
Childless by Marriage

Sue Fagalde Lick – 2012 – ‎No preview
“This is the story of how a woman becomes childless by marriage and how it affects every aspect of her life .

Lauren Groff – 2018 – ‎Preview – ‎More editions
The stories in this collection span characters, towns, decades, even centuries, but Florida—its landscape, climate, history, and state of mind—becomes its gravitational center: an energy, a mood, as much as a place of residence.
The Bolter

Frank Leslie’s Popular Monthly, Volume 32
edited by Frank Leslie
About this book

Terms of Service

686 – 690

Page images
At the eleventh hour, or, more literally speaking, four days before the Nethla stretched her white wings and carried us further south, a guide was found, and, with hope renewed, we set sail again for the Miami, with three light-draft boats trailing at our stern, and our minds made up to go through anything, so that it led to a Seminole camp. The day was warm, and the sky heavy with rainclouds, which hung lower and lower, as we took to tho small boats and were rowed, jioled, paddled, pushed and puiled up the lovely stream, which grew more and more narrow the nearer we approached the Everglades, until even the female contingent were obliged to get out and stumble along over tho coral edges, while the men dragged the boats over the rooks and through the rapids into the Everglade trail. Never shall I forget that scene. Imagine acres and acres of saw grass waving in every direction, like a giant cornfield. On the horizon lay stretches of forests melting into feathery distances. At intervals lay dots of wooded islands apparently untrodden by the foot of man or beast. Strange birds swept through the air. The cry of one of them was like a lost child. A goldfish leaped in the air almost across the steward’s oar, and white lilies, like Easter lilies, nodded at us as their roots were stirred by our passage.

At last a small cabin appeared a short distance before us. A few moments later, “John Billy,*’ son-iu-law of ” Billy Harney,” gave us a pleasant nod and “Howd’y,” as he helped us mount the wooden platform which saved us from a mud bath.

We followed him into the camp, and found “Billy Harney ” sitting on the edge of a rough table, upon which was spread dried corn, beans, starch, and other products of their fields. His daughters, with their pickaninnies, were grouped near the cooking shanty, and the eldest of them seemed to be in charge of the great iron kettle which swung above the log fire.

The old man shook hands with each of us, and was quite ready to talk. But to be frank, I did not feel thoroughly at ease. I was certain that the men were kindly disposed, but I discerned in the women’s faces a distinct resentment, which all our offerings of various trifles failed to remove. Indeed, the presiding genius of the culinary department calmly folded the handkerchief given her in the leaves of the accompanying book, and handed both back to the donor, with a enriou8 gesture of disdain. It was not until purchases of corn and beans were effected that she made the least attempt at civility; and the younger women kept up a continual comment upon our party, between themselves, with numerous outbursts of laughter and suggestive shrugs.

While the rest of the party were moving about and absorbing the attention of our host, who kindly but firmly declined being photographed, the little detective did its work, as well as it could under the circumstances, and when we took our leave, it was with mingled feelings of satisfaction and regret.

It must be confessed that there is nothing in the least romantic about a Seminole camp. The principal house belongs to the head of the settlement, and in “Billy Harney’s ‘ camp was the only dwelling that boasted four boarded-in sides. The others were composed of four posts, surmounted by a thatched roof. A platform, or floor of logs, raised about two feet above the ground, affords sitting and sleeping accommodations, and other shanties of like construction are devoted to the storage of food, clothing and household belongings.

With the advantages of an unrivaled climate, a free, pastoral and absolutely normal existence, good morals and self-respecting independence, it is hard to see how the government can better these unrivaled people, except by protecting them just where they are.

[graphic][merged small]

[In looking over some old MSS., I found, written upon a torn, yellow bit of paper, a travesty of Charles Kingsley’s “Three Fishers,” bearing date October, 18<>1, and written for the Glee Club of our Richmond Prison Association. I read it to Master Felix Oldboy, and then went on to tell him stories of the long months in which I was a prisoner of war; of the time when I waited out of the prison by boldly imitating the ways of the Confederate surgeons, and merely lifting a haughty finger to the sentry; and of a dismal Thanksgiving Day when, in return for a five-dollar gold piece, a Richmond baker sent in a dozen pies made with upper and under crusts, and ingeniously stuffed with sliced pumpkin which had been warmed but not cooked, and was, therefore, entirely uneatable. A day or two afterward Master Felix presented me with his own version of these experiences, and I, in return, lay it before the public.— Felix Oldboy.]

They marched us on to Richmond,

And there they kept us tight,
With the Home Guard “Rebs” to watch \\B
Lest we shoxild take to flight.

Kv Felix Oi.iiboy.

Ouk soldiers marched gallantly out to the field,
Out into the field with hearts that were brave;

They vowed for their flag their weapons to wield,

Though the flag did but wave its folds over their

The prison’s for men with its martyr crown,
While the heavy home cross weighs the women

And the days pass wearily.

Their wives stood watching them from their far home,
As they pressed their babes to an aching breast—
“With a tearful prayer that the loved one may come,
Rut come back with honor, or in honor may rest!
The prison’s for men with its martyr crown,
And God on the children at home looks down,
Though the days pass drearily.

Our soldiers lie starving in dungeons afar,

But their hearts to the dear old flag are true—
And their wives at home, while they weep for the war,
Are glad for their courage to dare and to dol

The prison’s for men with its martyr crown,
But hearts look up, though the cross weighs

And the days pass drearily.

We struggled through the summer

Until Thanksgivin’ come—
A mean day for us fellows,

It made us think of home.
I went up to Bill Barton, •

And, half ashamed, says I:
“I’d give this five-dollar gold piece

For a slice of pumpkin pie.”

He didn’t take the money,

But says, ” I’ll git yer one.”
And he started for the doorway—

I thought it was in fun—
An’ he walked right out the prison,

Although a guard stood there.
Right past the gun and baj’onet,

Into the sweet, free air!

After one hour of freedom

He came back; and, my eyes .’
On his right arm there rested

Three big, brown pumpkin pies’.
We had a glad Thanksgivin’,

A dozen hungry men,
And never pumpkin grew as sweet

As that we tasted then.

By Felix Oldboy, Jr.

YotJ want a Thanksgivin’ story?

Well, 1 kin give you one.
‘Twas down in Libby Prison,

When the war had just begun:
I’d lived in old New Hampshire,

And I’d joined the Boys in Blue,
With my old friend Bill Barton

To be my comrade true.

We marched straight on to Bull Ruu,
And in that battle fought

Till both of us fell wounded,
And that’s how we got caught.

I soon was on parole, an’ then

For a ” Johnny ” was exchanged;
But I ain’t seen Bill Barton since,

Though through the States I’ve ranged.
And I’d like to see him muchly,

I owe him a little debt;
I ain’t forgot them pnmpkin pies—

Leastways I ain’t just yet!

What’s that i—j/on—you’re Bill Barton?

Why, your hair is gray like mine.
His laugh! I know it, comrade.

From the hour we stood in line.
Nanoy, run to the kitchen

And make your fingers fly,
An’ cook for old Bill Barton

A bustiu’ pumpkin pie!



CHAPTER IX.—His Failure.

N the following day Nigel Hume appeared at the Beacon Street house, full ten minutes in advance of Mrs. Ellicott’s dinner hour. He meant to be punctual.

As the footman opened the drawing-room door a strain of music greeted Hume’s ears. Some »ne was at the j>iano, singing in a soft, dreamy voice, that song of Swinburne’s:

“Is it worth a tear, is it worth an hour,

To think of things that are well outworn?
Of fruitless husk, and fugitive flower,

The dream foregone and the deed forborne?”

Hume crossed the threshold, and a hush fell. The musician arose from the instrument, and came forward into the light of the mantel candelabra.

It was a girl in a dinner dress of some rich shimmering fabric. In her corsage was pinned a spray of tuberoses. The whiteness of her skin made her look like something cut from Parian. She glided toward the intruder—fixed upon him two wide brown eyes.

“I am Nigel Hume,” he said; “I dare say my aunt is expecting me.”

“And I am Edith Fassel,” replied the vision. “Mrs. Ellicott has had a sudden ill turn, but she will be down directly. Yes, she told me you were to dine here to-day.”

Hume felt a sudden strange impulse to take to Lis heels.

“Miss Fassel!” It was the bride that Lepel Ellicott had deserted on her marriage night. “I have heard of you !” he stammered, idiotically.

“Very likely. And I of you”—with a faint ■mile. “Mr. Hume, I am glad that Mrs. Ellicott has found a nephew. She is old, infirm and alone. You will comfort her — you will reconcile her again to life.”

Brazen enough under all ordinary circumstances, Hume felt himself coloring now, like a Bchoolboy.

“I fear you overrate my powers. Can I comfort her V

“Yes, and in a measure fill her son’s place.” He shook his head.

“I have small hope of doing that. First of ill, some evils are too great for consolation; then Vol. XXXII., No. 6—44.

I am a stranger, the child of a sister with whom she was at variance; I have none of the brilliant

gifts of that precious foo “He pulled himself

up suddenly. “I mean,” he concluded, with increasing confusion, yet looking her squarely in the face, “Lepel Ellicott must have been a queer sort.”

“Did you know your cousin?” asked Miss Fassel, dryly.

“Not at all. But that fact gives me no particular regret. I pitied him till this moment. Now I sec that ho was an nnheard-of idiot, who deserved all”

Luckily the door opened before he could finish the sentence, and Mrs. Ellicott entered. She greeted her nephew cordially.

“I have had a slight indisposition,” she said. “These attacks”—with a sad smile—”warn me to set my affairs in order. Ah !” she flashed a quick glance from Hume to Miss Fassel, “you two need no introduction. That is well. I want yon to be friends.”

They went out to dinner. Hume did not shine at the meal. He was silent and shy. Though he was careful to keep his eyes from Miss Fassel, not a movement of that young person escaped him. He marked her slow, lingering smile, the graceful turn of her head, the beauty of her dazzling, ringless hands; and the scent of the tuberoses which she wore in her bosom remained in his nostrils long after he left the house. “Report has exaggerated her charms,” he thought; “she is simply a counterpart of Tennyson’s Maud:

“‘Faultily faultless, icily regular, splendidly null.'”

She seemed quite at home in that desolate house—quite at her ease, also. And it was plain that Mrs. Ellicott adored her.

Coffee was served in old Dresden cups; and as Hume was about to make his adieux, his aunt drew him into her library, and opened a check book.

“I hear that you live in obscure lodgings, and in a very humble manner,” she said; “I wish to change all that.”

He drew back, reddening to his temples.

“Pardon me—I cannot take your money. I live quite as well as the majority of my fellow students. My wants are but few, and Spartan simplicity “—with an uneasy laugh—” is good for a man.”

She looked at him steadfastly.

“You are too proud to accept help from me,” she said; “you prefer to remain independent?”

“That is it !” he answered; and she closed the check book, and permitted him to depart without further words.

After that, he was summoned often to the Beacon Street house—to stately dinners, to cheerful five-o’clock teas, to delightful lunches. Said Parker, the butler, to Susan Taylor:

“My stomach rebels agin that young man as slashes up cold corpses; he conies ‘ere much too often; I ‘ave no liking for your Mr.’Umo.”

“He isn’t my Mr. Hume,” sniffed Susan; “I want no part in him. Indeed, I couldn’t bring myself to look with favor on the Angel Gabriel himself, if I saw that he was trying to slip into poor Mr. Lapel’s place.”

Mrs. Ellicott did not again offer her nephew money, nor seek to impose any obligation upon him. Hume met Miss Fassel constantly at the Ellicott house. Plainly, the events of the previous year had in nowise disturbed that young person’s affectionate relations with Mrs. Ellicott. She bore herself like a daughter toward the childless woman.

“Lepel’s death has blotted out all his transgressions,” Hume secretly concluded. “Womanlike, she finds it easy to forgive the man she loved, and to be kind to the old mother for his sake.”

Sometimes he found her presiding at the tea equipage in the Ellicott drawing room. Sometimes, in gray twilights, when the east wind was blowing sharp as a knife from the harbor, she sat under rose-colored lights, and played nocturnes or soft sonatas with the skill of one who had learned her art from famous masters. She had very little to say at any time to the shabby medical student, and Hume did not wonder at that. How could 6he tolerate him at all? How could she bear to enter the Ellicott house, or even hear the name spoken?

Sometimes he saw her on the crowded streets, riding in a victoria with green liveries; and one day a certain Jack Harold, his friend and fellow student, said to him:

“In Heaven’s name, Hume, why do you always change countenance at sight of that particular carriage? I chased it two whole blocks one morning, just to discover what it held that upset you so.”

“I hope your laudable curiosity was rewarded,” answered Hume, sharply.

“Well, I saw two women inside the vehicle—

one young, one old — and some fluffy lapdogs. All belonged, without doubt, to the four hundred. The younger female was a genuine Boston exotic, white as snow, cold as Arctic ice— looked as though she could successfully discuss bacilli, Browning or beans with a room full of savants.”

Hume frowned.

“‘ What nonsense you talk, Jack! That is the girl whom Lepel Ellicott deserted on her marriage night. The sight of her throws me into a cold sweat. I long to hide in dens and caves—to


“‘ Anywhere, anywhere, out of the world!’

She is a sort of relic of Lepel; and I, figuratively speaking, am attempting to put on Lepel’s shoes. Perhaps these facts account for the peculiar sensations which I experience in her presence. At any rate, I would rather face a loaded cannon than Miss Fassel.”

Harold, a small, fair young man iu spectacles, looked hard at his friend.

“By Jove !” he said, and drew a low, soft whistle.

Spring came.

The lively crocus peeped from the brown mold under the plate-glass windows of the Ellicott house. The huge vines, curling about the little iron balconies of the mansion, put forth countless leaves. Across the mall the grass was like emerald velvet, and the old, historic trees spread full, umbrageous branches to the June sky.

One afternoon Hume started out for a solitary walk in the suburbs. Incessant study and meagre fare were telling on the young fellow’s strength. He looked haggard and careworn. Jack Harold, who was just recovering from a sharp attack of typhoid, had goue away to recuperate in some remote Maine fishing town. In the absence of his friend, Hume tramped off alone, weary in body and somewhat dull in spirit.

He was a good pedestrian, and the afternoon was his own. The broad avenue along which he plodded was smooth as a floor, dappled with soft shadows, and bordered on either side with superb villas and gardens. A cool, sweet wind, full of reviving power, blew from him the sickening scents of the hospital. His thoughts were occupied with a terrible surgical operation which he had witnessed that day.

“It was superbly done,” he muttered, half aloud. “Old Bellamy surpassed himself “—referring to an autocrat surgeon, of whom the students stood in wholesome awe. “Pity that Harold should have missed the sight! I must write to him about it.”

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