“ I dare say you lelt exactly the same at first. 7 ’ 
“Ohldob't know," replied Sophy; “It Is so 
long since my first hall that I lorgct all about It. 
I’ve gone to haltB regularly these ten years, and 
really one gets tired ot everything in time.’’ 
"Ten years!' 7 exclaimed Maggie, in astonish¬ 
ment ; “ why, you must have been quite a child. 7 ’ 
“Of course I was, 7 ’ replied Sophy ; “ twelve or 
thirteen perhaps, not. more. To be sure they 
were only children’s parties, but we used to go 
on pretty much as we do now, flirting aud all, tn 
a small way.” 
“Oh Sophy, how ridiculous!” exclaimed Mag¬ 
gie. 
“RldlCrflOUs!” said Sophy; “not at all. I’m 
sure I enjoyed myself then much more than I do 
now. It was so very delightful. But how do you 
like Frank Wlltord, Maggie ?” 
“Oh pretty well.” said Maggie, slowly, lor she 
had not been very favorably Impressed with the 
gentleman In question, who dropped his r’s, part¬ 
ed Ills hair down the middle, and said, “No, 
thanks;” all of which were capital sins and offen¬ 
ces In Maggie's eyes. 
“ Only * pretty well,' ” repeated Sophy; “ why, 
he’s the richest fellow In the place, besides being 
the best dancer.” 
“Welt, you need think nothing about him, 
Sophy,” Slid Fanny; “ Kltt.y Ansell will take 
oiro of him, depend upon It." 
" I don't believe a word of It,” returned Sophy, 
pettishly; “but 11 ho prefers her tome, why I 
hope he’ll take her, t hat’s all. There’s as good 
fish In the sea n3 ever came out of It,” 
“ Now that’s a very vulgar saying,” put In Har¬ 
riet, who was the fine lady ot the family; “ and 
you only use It when you’re vexed.” 
" I vexed. Indeed!’’ said Sophy; " I’m not vex¬ 
ed. But It It comes to that, I think Maggie has 
almost, as good a chance as Kitty Ansell. I’m 
sure lie admired her, and ho asked for an Intro¬ 
duction ; which looks suspicious, to say the least 
of It.” 
“ Do set your cop at him, Maggie,” laughed 
Fanny; “and cut out these other two girls. 
What fun it would he!" 
Maggie looked from one to the other in silent 
astonishment, for she had never heard young 
ladles’ “chaff" before. 
“Look at her, how grave she looks!” said 
Sophy. “Oh, Maggie, what a little rustic you 
are.” 
“ Well, but seriously, Maggie,” said Fanny, “ I 
should advise you to think about It. How nice to 
be tbo wife of Frank Wtlford, Esq., of Temple 
Lawn, with carriages, aud horses, and servants, 
and no end of money. Why, yon would have a 
house In town, and an opera box, and go to no 
end ot balls, and be presented at, Court, Only 
think of It!” 
“ Besides making all these other girls, who have 
tried nnd could not get him, mad with rage and 
envy," chimed lu Sophy. “ Kitty Ansell would 
be ready to bite her fingers’ends off with Jeal¬ 
ousy. But dear me, how late it Is! Do come and 
dress, girts. I declare l hod almost forgotten the 
crysanthemum show, and some of them are sure 
to be there." 
Maggie felt half Inclined to refuse; but her 
uncle, who had taken quite a fancy to the quiet 
little country girl, would not hear of her staying 
at, home; so she put on her “Sunday dress,” a 
pretty gray merino, and went down stairs to wait 
for the others. £ s usual she was ready fully half 
an hour before her cousins, who came In radiant 
with the newest fashions. 
“ Why, Maggie,” exclaimed Sophy, “ you are 
surely not going In that plain French merino and 
felt hat ? Why, you look like an Arcadian shep¬ 
herdess.” 
Maggie colored slightly at this rude attack on 
her dress; but she only said, " Don’t you think It 
wtll do, cousin? I have only got two light, silks 
besides, and I thought those would he too dressy 
for morning.’’ 
“ Too dressy, child ! What nonsense!” exclaim¬ 
ed Sophy. “ There’s nothing too dressy in these 
days; but you don't understand such things. 
Never mind; nobody wtll notice you, 1 dare say.” 
But Sophy was mistaken; for somebody did 
notice her: aud more than that, admired the fair, 
modest-looking flower; and all the more for the 
contrast she exhibited to the gorgeous blossoms 
beside her. 
“ Who Is that young girl with the Harrisons ?” 
asked young Hamilton, the mo3t impassive and 
fastidious of all the Wlnterbury set. 
“ Haven’t the faintest Idea,” answered his 
friend. “ Wtlford, do you know?” 
“ Tea, she’s a sort of cousin, or something,” he 
replied. “I danced with her at the ball the 
other night. She’s a nice little thing enough, 
and rather refreshing after the usual run of girls; 
a sort or daisy, you know, amongst, a cluster of 
exotics," and evidently thinking he had said 
something witty, Mr. Frank Wlltord pulled up 
his shirt collar and deliberately lounged away. 
in a row minutes the Harrisons, whose ac- 
, qualntunce had previously been of the slight¬ 
est, had the supreme delight ot receiving a very 
cordial greeting from Mr. Claude Hamilton, 
who by a dexterous movement contrived to 
place hlm30lf next to Maggie, and gradually 
drew her Into the conversation. She had too 
much good sense to he b tshrul, but spoke with 
a quiet modesty, which contrasted very favora¬ 
bly with the sparkling chatter of her fashions 
blccousins; so that when Mr. Hamilton lifted 
his hat and said “ good morning,” It was with a 
determination to make a further acquaintance 
with the Harrison’s country cousin.—[Concluded 
next week. 
- » ■* ■ «- 
A COUNTERBLAST AT THE MARRIED 
FOLKS. 
MARY DEAN. 
To attack the married folks requires the daring 
or the boy wlm, probably hoping to see a free 
menagerie, cried out to a bald-headed man, “ Go 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
up, baldbeadl Now fetch on your hears!" The 
married folks have had their own way a loDg 
time. They have managed affairs so that the 
women of our period are not bo strong nor so 
happy as their right ts to he. Now lot the single 
rise up and protest. 
Everybody loves power, women as well as men. 
but that natural love and source ot strength Is 
taken out of women oy an artificial educat ion, It 
not being considered suitable to married life. 
Men are as strong as lions, and women are 
naturally strong as lionesses; yet women are 
forced to become weak In order tbat. they may 
be adapted to marriage. The attempt to put 
woman Into perfect subjection to man lias re¬ 
duced her to a point where she is weaker than 
her task, bo that »lie now performs her mission 
not. In glad strength, but In shuddering dread aud 
anguish. To bu weak Is nothing, but to be 
weaker than one’s task Is dreadful. 
To suit married folks’ notions, women are 
trained to the greatest possible feebleness and 
tlmldlty—are not only trained to fear general 
enterprise and every undertaking tbat requires 
energy, but are also trained to fear little harm¬ 
less tbl ngs—mice, worms and beet les. So soundly 
are women grounded In this sert, of education 
that those women who have native health and 
courage, and are naturally able to take the world 
on their shoulders and pad along wltU It, make 
believe to be afraid of little things, and refrain 
from their natural bent and turn lest, they should 
look mannish and be thought to resemble strong- 
uituded women who go straddling about, on men's 
business. Girls’ minds are ground down to a pale 
unanimity. They study too many books, like 
Watts on the Mind, Karnes's Elements and Paloy’s 
Theology—works that, were considered mediocre 
by the literary world when they were written, 
have Dever been read by reading people, and con¬ 
tain not a single thought that would not occur to 
the meanest capacity. 
It would be well if we could Imitate more close¬ 
ly the models on which our republic Is founded. 
The Greek sister, the Roman matron, would be 
better models tor us than are the women of Eu¬ 
rope, still In feudal vassalage. How refreshing Is 
the memory' of Terentla, the wife of Cicero! 
Cicero said ot her“ Terentla meddles In affairs 
of government much more than she allows me to 
meddle In the affairs of our household.” Happy 
Terentla! She bad never heard of that round 
bore, woman's “sphere”—that circle destitute of 
money, and reeking with soapsuds and pancake* 
smoke. Imagine the effect if girls were trained 
to Grecian strength—to walk, for Instance, with 
long, treo paces, graceful as you will, instead of 
with these—oh, so Irksome—mlnclngst.eps ot to¬ 
day ! Nature’s strength ts wasted pitiably now. 
Millions exist among us who with a strong educa¬ 
tion would have been self-reliant and thoroughly 
able, but who have been made objectless and ter¬ 
ror-stricken creatures, that they might, be man¬ 
ageable hymen. Men want wives conspicuously 
Inferior to themselves. The married folks think 
with Plnchwlfe In the old play“ lie Is doubly a 
fool who does not marry a fool.” \ smart s^vn 
wants a wife warranted not to be smarter than 
he Is, and a dull man wants a wife duller than a 
great thaw. Disraeli’s Lady St. Aldegonde Is the 
ideal wife;—“ Beaming with brightness, with a 
cloudless temper, she hud from the first hour ot 
her marriage concentrated all her intelligence on 
one object; aud that was never to cross her hus¬ 
band on any conceivable topic." There you have 
It. “ Beaming with brightness ” and always 
agreeing! What sort of a person Is this always- 
complying wife ? she Is an oplnlonless incapa¬ 
ble ; her household Is without economy, her fam¬ 
ily is without subordination; she is the honey¬ 
suckle wife, who Injures what she clings to, and 
her husband Is early tired of her. Her beaming 
brightness does not last. Whether people marry 
or part, lovo soon comes to an end, and after that 
they have to depend for cheerfulness on health 
aud a sound brain. A feeble-minded woman Is 
not. apt to be cheerful. Women, indeed, are uot 
so cheerful as men: women depend too much on 
the success of others to be cheerful, and their un¬ 
natural weakness aud apprchenslveness render 
them peevish, fretful and repining. Laborers re¬ 
turning at nightfall chat and laugh od the road, 
but at the threshold a sulky face silences them. 
Most married folks live like Giant Despair and his 
wife Diffidence in Doubting Castle. At, the wed¬ 
ding they have eaten their loaf: nothing hut the 
crust remains to them. 
There Is so much discomfort in wedlock, who¬ 
ever wants to be happy had better keep out of It. 
To begin with, life Is too Interesting to bo wasted 
lu coquetries, and then men and women cannot 
live comfortably together. There Is a possibility 
of content under peculiar circumstances, such as 
are seldom combined, but It is well not to run the 
risk. “None marries but repents,” says the 
French proverb. “ II y n He bows moriages, metis 
il n 'y m a point de detioie.UT.” says M. le Due de 
La Rochefoucauld. “ Wife and child create tor a 
man his deadliest anxieties," says Dc tjulncey. 
“ Family life has interminable chafing, deep an¬ 
guish and horrible responsibilities," says George 
Sand. ‘“’Twould be a pity, Trim,’ quoth my 
uncle Toby, ‘tbat thou shouldat, ever feel sorrow 
of thy own, t hou feelcst It, so tenderly for others.’ 
‘Alack-a-day !’ repllod the corporal, brightening 
up his face. ‘YOUr Honor knows 1 have neither 
wife nor child: I can have no sorrows In this 
world.’ ” People who mean to be happy had bet¬ 
ter fall into the procession with Tasso, Cervantes, 
Gibbon, Hume, Humboldt and Kant, nnd work, 
travel, read, write, talk and worship “ whatever 
gods may bo” In holiness and chastity, living a 
life of peace and free from care, of course char¬ 
acters like Miss Frlbsby in Pcudeutils, who had 
read novels until Bhe was so absurdly sentimental 
that In her eyes life was nothing hut one im¬ 
mense love-match, must marry. To such persons 
the entire universe—books, music, art, all forms, 
all perspectives, all illuminations, all horizons, 
all voices—have but one suggestion—marriage. 
Let them marry! 
The married folks have succeeded In arranging 
society so that at present It Is the business of 
spinsters to run with hot flannels, to stir gruel, 
to take care of house and children while the mar¬ 
ried folks go out, and to be thankful that they 
have flannels to heat, gruel to stir and other 
people's houses to take care of. Moreover, It 13 
tbelr strange doom that the flannels are never 
hot enough, the gruel Is never stirred enough 
and the houses are never enough taken care of. 
Now, our spinsters ought to do very different 
work. Let them got a few masculine Ideas Into 
their heads, and let them transfer their infinite 
system, sharpness and pertinacity from the 
"sphere” to some plane where work pays, and 
they will soon make a success of life; they will 
soon be able to live with retired leisure In trim 
gardens, and will enjoy what Is dearer to woman 
than anything olse whatsoever—pecuniary inde¬ 
pendence. 
The test or ability Is success. Tliree-fourtbs of 
all the men In the country are poor, but three- 
lourihs ol all the women engaged In business are 
not poor. Women make a success ot business- 
ventures when they undertake any, because they 
are cautious, fond of accumulating and have 
Inexpensive habits. Women are rich tn the few¬ 
ness of tlxetr wants if not in the abundance of 
their earnings, small gains are to them compe¬ 
tence. A man must have cigars, newspapers and 
a thousand other things women do not want. 
A man cannot take out his old lluen suits In 
the spring and rip them, make them over and 
do them up himself: he must buy new or go about 
looking ridiculous la hts old ones. Neither can 
he make himself a new hat better than the hat¬ 
ter can. Women can, and they care nothing for 
newspapers. Clever women prefer old books 
to newspapers: they read not the limes, hut the 
Eternities, like Thoreau. Let the splntsters 
strike out for themselves, and success awaits 
them. Let the vestals once start from the 
“sphere,” and they will straightway become 
the peers of their brothers the bachelors, who 
are so proud of not being married, and do so 
congratulate themselves. No wonder! 
Who’d be a married man. 
Wretched and sad. 
Looking- like one who has 
Gone to the bad ? 
I’d be!a single man, 
.Tolly and free; 
I’d be a bachelor 
With a latch-key. 
See what smart, managing widows some very 
stupid wives become. Legions of women with 
capacttles for making fortunes, spend thetr whole 
lives In darning old carpets, dyeing old rags, 
gluing old chairs, cementing old crockery and 
benzining old grease-spots. 1 n fact, tliree-fourtbs 
of the married women are dolDg It, being mar¬ 
ried to this huge majority of poor men; and very 
miserable they are. Besides, one woman lu 
every seventeen Is married to a drunkard. Look 
at that 1 There Is no greater torture than what 
energetic women endure while waiting for odious 
lazy, unfortunate, poor men to provide for them. 
Poor, poor, thousand times poor woman! they 
wait on with hollow eyes and holeR dug in their 
cheeks until too old to do anythlug but sit, with 
their toes lu the ashes of the pinched chimney- 
coiner. Girls are not taught technical pursuits 
because they are expected to marry, but since 
most of them marry men of the sort who have 
nothing but their heart and lute to offer, both 
badly damaged and cracked, girls would cer¬ 
tainly do well to learn trades and arts. 
The married folks are always talking about 
“ the crown or womanhood,” as if it were some¬ 
thing that might bo lost In the battle of fife, or If 
It might be knocked off and clapped on again and 
worn bent, like Betsy Trotwood’s bonnet, it Is a 
fashion with the married folks to say that women 
must stay at home minding the nest while men 
go abroad to get bread, just as mother-robins 
sit on the nest while father-robins go In quest 
of worms. As If there were any comparison be¬ 
tween sober, Industrious, vigorous robins aud list¬ 
less, debauched men 1 It Is a lamentable fact, tbat 
men In common do uot play the robin role to an 
at all satisfactory degree, most of them being oc¬ 
cupied In providing themselves with drinks aud 
smokes. Now and then you find a genuine robin- 
man, but even he gives his wife what she wants 
so grudgingly It, Is not worth havtng. 
Horace Greeley once wrote a regular married 
folks’ pamphlet called The Ideal Man and the 
Ideal Woman, In which he sought to prove that 
woman ought to be contented, forgetting tbat 
the mere tact of her discontent proves something 
wrong. Greeley's Ideal man performed great 
tasks with vast delight and tn the most scientific 
manner. His ideal woman painted pictures, 
practised music and did housework, and was not 
In the least interested lu the politics of the pres¬ 
ent nor ot the mighty past, or In public affatrs 
of any sort. Sbo was a petite morvmae. You can 
Imagine what Bort of music she would play—The 
Battle or Prague, without putting any spirit even 
Into “ the groans of the wounded and dying;” and 
what sort of pictures she would paint—papery 
cabbage-roses and insufferable, horrid baskets or 
strawbenlee—upset, always upset. It would be 
dreadful to live In the same house with her, Im¬ 
possible to refrain rrom sooldlng her and abusing 
her pictures and music. Oh give mo a woman ot 
nous —one who loves dominion, and would grasp 
the ballot If she could from the lobacco-ohowers 
and rum-sellers of this raw nation. 
Don’t begin to be tired ; I am not. Woman sits 
like a dog at the table of man, taking whatever 
he gives her; and an Impudent, dog he thinks 
her It she takes It discontentedly. .She depends 
on man for all she has. She is a parasite and an 
Incumbrance In her own family. She would like 
a different arrangement, hut Is not allowed to 
alter things. Still she must endure contumely 
on account of this arrangement—men talk, books, 
newspapers constantly contain contemptuous al¬ 
lusions to her condition. This Is vexatious. 
Men should be pleased with their own construc¬ 
tion of society, though women are not; but men 
are not pleased with It,and they blame women for 
MAY 44 
their own dissatisfaction. The man most anxious 
to keep women dependent Is the most constant 
cotnplalner aboutjthe burdens of domestic life : It 
la he who keeps up this perpetual growl about 
bills and extravagance. The mao who Is loudest 
In denouncing woman’s rights is the Identical In¬ 
dividual who complains so of woman's silliness, 
incompetence and extravagance. You would not 
expect the man who with Mrs. Skewton wants 
“more heart," .and not so much strong-minded¬ 
ness around, and thinks the “ sphere” big enough 
for any woman, to speak contemptuously cr the 
“ sphere"; but be does. He says there Is no need 
ot his wife’s spending the money she does on 
housekeeping, and if she does not hasten to say 
she is tired to death at night, he wants to know 
what 6ho has been doing all day,and why she has 
not done a multitude of other things. He declares 
she has nothing to do but enjoy herself. He ac¬ 
cuses her of wblnlDg, he finds fault with her 
weakness, he despises her Incompetence, and yet 
he 1 b furious when you aver that she ought to bo 
as potent and self-sustaining as ho Is. People 
who strain at gnats generally have to swallow 
camels. 
Now, then, let women adopt a new course. No 
longer standing in a meek row to be chosen, let 
them walk up and down the world as men do, 
taking possession of whatever they can lay their 
hands on, and asseverating, “ There are no spou¬ 
ses worth liavlug,” 1 could say more.— Lippin- 
colt's Magazine. 
- +-*+ - 
MRS. HAYES IN PHILADELPHIA.’ 
M. W. F. 
“ Why not give Mrs. Hayes a reception ?” asked 
a Philadelphia woman as every body was discuss¬ 
ing the coming hither of the Presidential party. 
Somebody else satd, “ Why not ?” and the enthu¬ 
siasm to do honor to the large-hearted, level¬ 
headed Ohio lady who honors her country by be¬ 
ing In the “ White House,” spread like a train of 
powder set on tire, and resulted 1 □ a most brilliant 
reception In the Academy of Fine Arts. Four 
thousand Invitations were Issued by the ladles 
having the matter In charge, and the Academy, 
already splendid with Its " Spring Exhibition of 
Pictures,” wa 3 rendered still more so by the pro¬ 
fusion ot flowers with which it was further em¬ 
bellished -lilies, roses, palms and fern3, and the 
grand statrway hedged with alternate groups of 
Asttlbc Japontoa and crimson Azaleas. Although 
there was one continuous stream of arriving peo- 
plo rrom (eight until eleven,) there was no con¬ 
fusion nor “ crush." Philadelphia knows full 
well how to manage such affairs, and her women 
aro " so capable.” 
Soon after eight o’clock, the band crashing a 
musical welcome, Mrs. Hayes made her appear¬ 
ance attended by a group of Committee Women, 
and the people made a wide way ror her as she 
moved graciously, smiling aud bowing, toward 
the place assigned her, which was canopied by a 
large bell formed ot blu3h aud crimson roses—a 
very Individual-looking woman. Kind and mat¬ 
ronly looking, too, and a face In which goodness 
and strength are, to an unusual degree, expressed 
and blended. Sho Is of medium bight, “ snugly 
built” (as the lamented Colonel Harris aptly de¬ 
scribed her,) with black hair dressed In a plain, 
old-fashioned way, and with a tortoise-shell comb 
at the back. Her frock was or white silk, quite 
elaborately made, but giving the effect of simpli¬ 
city, and she wore crlmsou roses for ornament, 
and carried an Immense bouquet of tea and Ben¬ 
gal roses, each half of solid sameness of color. 
Her manner Is full of warmth and genuineness, 
and she had a real heartful smile for every per¬ 
son presented to her—no made-up, superficial 
gleam of brightness—and, considering the hun¬ 
dreds and hundreds that she had to smile on, 
well, she must have an Inexhaustible fuad of lov¬ 
ing kindness somewhere. 
An hour later the President himself arrived and 
“received " In another room-a line-looking, rud¬ 
dy-faced man. benevolent and kind, but with less 
strength of character manifested in his face. As 
he had hell a public letiee in Independence Hall 
In the arternoon and shaken hands wtth half the 
hands In the city, one could but sympathize with 
him In again being at the mercy of the awfully 
tiresome task of welcoming the people. But ho 
set bravely and business-like about it. At ono 
side ot him stood George W. Childs, tho Philadel¬ 
phian so widely known for his great wealth and 
his great benevolence—a plain, (Quaker-like look¬ 
ing man, short and somewhat stout, and looking 
very modest and practical. Near by was Gover¬ 
nor Hartranft, a strikingly handsome man, and 
one ot the few handsome men who “ handsome 
does.” As everybody Invited bad been particu¬ 
larly requested to come In evening dress, the 
spectacle was brilliant in the extreme. I was 
glad to see so many of the best men present, al¬ 
though wearing white neckties and white ktd 
gloves, attired in frock coats Instead of the Im¬ 
modest, ugly, ridiculous swallow-tail that has so 
long been He rtgeur for full dress. Everybody will 
be glad to see It, as a fashion, dead and burled. 
There was plenty of Ice-water to drink—noth¬ 
ing stronger. Even at tho Union League banquet 
wine was not served—ont of deference to Mrs. 
Hayes. So much for a woman’s Influence! 
But the best thing of all lu the reception, was 
the triumph won by common sense, which It so 
splendidly illustrated, being given in honor of a 
very exceptional promulgator ot that scarce arti¬ 
cle. Mrs. Hayes has demonstrated beyond all 
cavil that a woman may be In “high life" and 
still obey her highest principles and carry into 
execution her best Impulses. The moral senso of 
a nation Is nearly always right and will applaud 
good sense In preference to fashion, every time, 
If any one Is brave enough to manifest the one 
Instead of weakly yielding to the other. After 
the victory Is once won, how comfortable ono 
feels! it is the only way to be free—to do exact- 
ly what, one feels to bo the rigid, thing to do. If 
Ohio has another such woman, let us pray that 
she may succeed Mrs. Hayes tn 1880 , as rresi- 
flmte. 
* This should have appeared In our last Issue but 
copy was not received in time.—E d. 
