THE 
RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
obscure street, and Uie light of a lamp close by 
falling on hla face revealed the long red beard 
and gray garments that the Dottier had seen 
before on the club-house steps. Robert Yorke 
recoiled. Could It be possible that olive had so 
Insulted him as to choose that spot of all others 
for the rendezvous slit, had given her lover ? Would 
she be vile enough to stand there, where only last 
night she had of her own accord lifted her Ups to 
his, aud let another man talk to her of love—Kiss 
her ? What maimer 01 man could he he who could 
thus endanger the actress’s reputation ? 
Poor tortured Robert Yorke aid not wait to re¬ 
member that the stranger might fairly hare asked 
the same question of hi.a; already he was striding 
hack by the way he had come. .She Is not worth 
the anger I have wasted on berr he groaned, 
clenching his hands as he walked. '• she Is utter¬ 
ly heartless, faithless, disloyal: Why does (leaven 
make such women beautiful that they may wreck 
the lives cl honest men? How shall I live the 
years that are left to me. knowing that Olive 
Carew is false V” 
He was so absorbed In his own miserable thoughts 
that he did not see Miss Carew, when presently 
she passed him under the fatherly care or the old 
prompter, who lived In the same street, and who 
felt very proud when the pretty girl asked him oc¬ 
casionally to seo her safely home. 
“ Surely that was Ur. Yorke, my dear? 1 ’ the old 
man said, using the friendly theatrical privilege In 
so addressing bl3 charge, 
Olive started, and, turning round, called softly 
after the retreating figure of her lover. Hut he did 
not hear her-he was listening to harsher voices 
that were making on angry tumult In his breast, 
“No, It cannot hare b.-eu Dr. Yorke." sighed 
Olive. “ Here 1 am at home. Mr Wright, and I 
am so much obliged to you—good-night! ’ 
“My dear, the obligation is mine,” returned the 
little prompter, with his best, bow “ Don't forget 
the * call' Is ten o'clock to-morrow." 
As Miss Carew opened the little iron gate the 
man who had been waiting there advanced and 
spoke her name. 
“ Don't go in yet," he said in a low voice, as she 
made a gesture of dismissal, and he caugiit her 
hand and held It to him. M Olive, give me one 
word before I go away." 
Olivo stopped, trembling from head to foot, 
“Why are you hero. Colonel Dacre?” she asked 
hurriedly. “It is unkind after what 1 have told 
you. Let me pass: 1 have nothing else to say." 
“ Unkind i” echoed the, man with a short, un- 
mlrthful laugh. “ Olive, you are going to kill me, 
as surely as If you put a bullet Into my heart—to 
kill the good that Is iu me - and you talk of my be¬ 
ing unkind because 1 ask you for a word at part¬ 
ing!” The uncertain lamplight, fell on his face as 
he spoke, and showed It to be distorted with suf¬ 
fering and passion. 
“ What Is It, you want me to say?" asked Olive, 
hopelessly. “ I must not stay here talking to you 
—you have no right to waylay me in the dark.” 
“ You have fomdden me your house -what else 
can I do ?” 
“ You must go away,” answered the girl hur¬ 
riedly—“away from Woolehester; 1 must never 
see you again." 
“ Olive”—the young man crushed her trembling 
hand In his, and flung It from him with a groan— 
“ Olive, can you speak of it so coldly? Never sec 
me again? Oh, try to tliink, dear, what that 
means! Never to meet any more—never to hold 
each other’s hands or hear each other speak— 
never to bring back the sweet old days—oh, Olive, 
can you speak of It so coldly ?” 
“Why should not l bo cold, colonel Dacre?” 
Oh, let me go please let mo go! tr my-ray lover 
were to see you here 1" 
“ Your lover 7” The young man laughed again 
dismally, and seized her two poor trembling hands 
In his. “ Do you tliluk l have forgotten how you 
ran to meet me last night ? You have no lover but 
me. on, darling ehild, why will you torture me 
with such foolish words'.’" 
He would have laid her head down on his breast, 
but Olive struggled from his clasp. 
“I have a lover,” she panted desperately, “and 
he Is good and kind and t rue: i will never bo false 
to him.” 
The young man drew back deadly white, and 
looked her fixedly in the face. Olive could not en¬ 
dure the silent misery of his gaze. 
“Oh, Jack. Jack," she sobbed, melting sudden¬ 
ly Into a great burst of tears, " C m't you see that 
my hear! Is breaking, and that I must not listen 
to you, pules-, I want to prove myself the ralsest, 
wickedest girl In oil the world ?" 
“ You are the lruest and the sweetest olive,” 
said pool' Jack Dacre, trying to speak as gently as 
though he were not on the rack of conflicting 
emotions; “ and that Is why you will not be led by 
any false idea of Self-sacrifice to make us both 
utterly wretched for are.” 
“ oh, don’t -don't, Jack!" sobbed olive, rocking 
herself iu uncontrollable agitation. - I am cow¬ 
ardly enough already', oh, help me—don’t make 
it harder for me. dear 1” 
“ Listen to me, love.” urged the young man pas¬ 
sionately. “ You gave me your promise long ago, 
aud I have never given it hack. You loft mo be¬ 
cause you thought I was bound by a promise made 
for me before 1 was old enough to know my own 
mind. 1 have come buck after three years ot 
loneliness and misery to tell you that l am no 
longer bound by that jiroml.se- and you—” 
“ 1 am bound by a promise now,” sakl olive, 
growing calmer—“ a promise made of my own 
t ree will in return for so much true kindness, 80 
much generous goodness, that l will die rather 
than break It. Jack, Is It you who are asking me 
to be false lo ray word? You would not wish 
surely to marry a woman you despised? Do you 
think I would conic to you, my one dear love, 
with such a slur upon my honor?” 
Jack iUCVe could only gaze with his hungry 
heart in his eyes at the girl whose very nobleness 
of thought TV as making it all the harder for him 
to re 11 nilidi her to another man. There was a 
pause, lu which they could hear the beating of 
their hearts and their hurrying breath. Then 
Olive held out her little shaking hand. 
“Say good night now. Jack, and good-bye," she 
faltered, growing very pale. “ 1 love you better 
than all the world, but I will marry Dr. Yorke." 
The young man caught her In his arms, and 
looked with despairing passion into her sweet, 
wet eyes. 
“My poor little brave foolish child," he whis¬ 
pered hoarsely, “ If you could only understand 
the doom to which you are devoting yourself I 
Olive”—he stooped and pressed kiss after kiss 
upon her white quavering Ups-“you send me 
away from you, hut 1 will come back! I will bring 
some one who will persuade you better than l 
can. This is not good-bye, my dearest—it Is only 
good night.” 
He hasgone. olive, her pulses throbbing with 
blended pleasure and palu, stood aud listened to 
his footsteps dying away along the dlmly-llt 
street; the lamps were flickering In the light 
wind; the branches stirred overhead with a low 
unhappy sound. 
“No—It is good-by," she said, opening the little 
gate, and walking slowly towards the house. “ it 
Is good-by to Jack and love and Joy for ever.” 
(To be fontmwd ) 
Jor (Mlonun, 
CONDUCTED BY MISS FAITH RIPLEY. 
H. M. S. PINAFORE. 
The Opera In Provldence-A Real 8hip on 
Real Water An Enjoyable Performance. 
An audience of between 7,000 and3,000 assembled 
at the Park Garden last evening to witness the 
opening performance of the comic opera “H. m. 8. 
Pinafore” In the open air and “on a real ship on 
real water." Thei-o had been a fear that the sing¬ 
ing, and especially the dialogue, might not be dis¬ 
tinctly heard, even by those of the audience near¬ 
est the ship, but this fear was almost entirely dis¬ 
pelled. With one or two exceptions, after they 
got fairly Into it. both singing aud dialogue were 
heard easily to the furthermost portions oi the 
audience. The chorus of the sisters, cousins aud 
aunts, as they left the landing in the small boats 
TO board the ship, was very pretty. The good slflp 
Pinafore, moored In the lake, Is 110 feet long. She 
was fully rigged, aud a man-of-wars-man present 
pronounced her exceedingly well gotten up. Her 
sails were “loosed to a bunt-line,” her gun-deck 
ports were closed, but on the main deck were four 
broadside and two boat-howitzers; there was the 
wheel In front of the cabin, the capstan, the ropes 
colled up around the fife rail, the starboard anchor 
down—in short, It was a good representation of a 
ship of war. The orchestra was out of sight, In 
the forecastle, but not “out ot sound." The action 
was In the center of the main deck, and when the 
sailors departed they went down the fore-hatch, 
while the Admiral, the Captain and hla lovely 
daughter, aud the sisters, cousins and aunts disap¬ 
peared at the proper times In TO the cabin. When 
Little Buttercup came on board she came In a boat 
alone, was met at the starboard gangway by a 
gallant Lar, and sang the first stanza while In the 
boat. The sisters, cousins and aunts arrived In 
the same way. When the boat containing sir 
Joseph a nd llebc arrived there was a commotion 
on board. There, was a salute, and the yards were 
manned by men who were as agile and evidently 
understood what they were about as though they 
were real mau-ol-wars-men. Then theie was a 
file of marines who dirt their duty, notably the 
silent drill, so well as to win merited apjilause. 
When the Admiral left the ship with llebc he sang 
his “I'm Monarch of the Sea” after he had boarded 
the small boat and while preparing to start. And 
over all and above all was the strangeness or the 
surroundings, the water und the sky, the reflection 
of the opera In the lake, the trees, the Immense 
audience scattered around the shore of the lake, 
giving a novel, not to say wlerd. appearance. 
And there was an element which it Is no risk to 
Bay never before entered into a representation of 
“Pinafore.” and one which created a good deal of 
amusement in a quiet way. This was a couple ol 
frogs-perhaps more, but two at least-who played 
their little part. One waB the father or all frogs, 
or, better, grandfather, whose position was at the 
left or the lake, and the other was a fellow or no 
mean voice at the right of the lake. They had 
evidently not been at all the rehearsals and didn’t, 
always corne In Just at the right time, (fly the 
way, why not train those frogs and utilize them 
1 n the Frog opera ? No charge for t his suggestion, 
Mr. Reeves). For Instance, when Ralph was 
pouring his “simple eloquence" into the ears of 
Josephine, Grandtather rang out “ clniur-ur- 
rough!" three or four times, which might have 
meant to suggest to Ralph that he knew he was 
giving ’taffy.” The presence of the frog chorus 
at some or the tender passages was decidedly 
novel; aud at one time, while .losejihlne was sing¬ 
ing a solo, it was a matter of doubt whether she 
or the frogs would come out best, and bets were 
offered quite as freely on um trogs as on her. It 
was funny TO hear Little Buttercup sing: 
“ Hulls are but inflated frogs," 
and then -'chur-ur-r-ungli!" lu disgust from the 
grand rather, or to hear Sir Joseph say, “ Love 
levels all ranks,” to be met with “e-r-r-r-a-euck” 
irom the frog at the right; or TO hear the frog 
chorus mingled wil li 
•• Never mind the why or wherefore,” 
or Sir Joseph sing: 
And the lord that rules the water,” 
with the disdainful rejoinder—“jug-o-rimi, jug-o- 
rum,” or Josephine, 
“ And the tar that ploughs the water,” 
with the cougmWllatory "oliur-ur-r-ungh.” But 
these examples are enough to give an Idea of the 
lun that was not on the programme. "II. M. 8. 
Pinafore,” after the same form and manner, will 
be given at the Pork Garden until rurtuer notice. 
—Providence Journal.. 
If you are ambitious to move In the highest 
circles join the next expedition to the Artie circles. 
BIRDS OF NO FEATHER. 
BY MARY B. PEEKE. 
Four little birds in n nest too small. 
Only one momma to care for all; 
'Twos chirp and twittor the live long day, 
No wonder the niarum., soon grew grey. 
Papa-bird was a dashing fellow. 
Coat of black with a flash of yellow 
Never a bird in the early spring 
Could rival him when he chose to sing. 
He helped the momma-bird hang the nest 
" here the winds would rock it the very best, 
And while she sat on her eggs all day. 
He’d cheer her up with a roundelay. 
But when from each egg in the swinging bed, 
A little birdie popped its head, 
He said to hie wife, ** I’ve done my share 
Of household duties, they're now your care.” 
Then oil he’d go to a concert line 
In the apple-trees and bright sunshine 
Without a thought of the stupid way 
His poor little wife must pass her day. 
At last the mamma-bird fell ill, 
And the papa forced, against his will, 
To take her place with the birdies Bmall. 
Ready to answer tbeir chirp and call 
Sorry day fur the wretched fellow. 
Dressed so gay with a scarf of yellow ! 
Shut in the house from morniug till night. 
M as ever a bird in sueh a plight ? 
At eve he said, “ Another day 
Would turn my goldeuest plume to grey; 
Or elee in a lit of grim despair, 
I’d fling these children into the air!” 
Have I mixed up birds with human folks f 
Aud homes with nests In the lofty oaks ? 
The story is true, and I overheard 
Those very words of the papa bird , 
But who he was, and where he did dwell 
I’ll never, no never, no never tell! 
The truth for once la truth tor aye. 
And this Is the reason why mammas grow grey. 
[ Wide Awake 
HOME PROTECTION” 
An Argument for Woman’s Temperance 
Ballot. 
BY FRANCES E. WILLARD, 
PRESIDENT OF ILLINOIS W. C. T. IT. 
TOE CATHOLIC' CHURCH, GERMANS, ETC. 
The attitude of the Catholic Church was friendly 
uTtour petition, mauy priests urging their people 
to sign. Irish women, as a rule, gave us their 
tames, and saloon-keepers’ wives Often secretly 
did so. Scandinavians were generally enthusi¬ 
astic tor the petition. Germans opposed us ; but 
the reply of one or them indicates the chlvatrlc 
naturewlflch will come to our aid when our invin¬ 
cible argument against beer shall bo brought In 
contact with German brain and German con¬ 
science. He said “ If It is uot the pledge, I will 
sign It. T cannot give up my boor; but I want to 
help the ladles.” To he sure, Germau saloon¬ 
keepers were universally and bitterly antagonistic, 
and had much TO say about “women keeping In¬ 
side their proper sphere." 
ARGUMENT FROM THE NATURE OF THE CASE. 
But the convictions which supply me with unal¬ 
terable courage and unflagging enthusiasm In the 
Home Protection work are not based upon any 
proof I have yet given. No argument Is Impregna¬ 
ble unless founded on the nature of things. 
The deepest Instincts and the dearest Interests 
of those who have the power to enforce a law 
must be enlisted for Its enforcement before It will 
achieve success. For Instance, the 15th Amend¬ 
ment to the Constitution of the United States Is 
going to be enforced by the ballots of colored men 
w ho once- were slaves, Just so long as those men 
retain their reason and their color. By parity of 
reasoning, If you can enlist in favor of a local op¬ 
tion or prohibition law the dearest Interests of 
a class In t he community which In all the ages of 
wine and beer and brandy drinking has not devel¬ 
oped (as a class) the appetlre for them nor formed 
the habit ol their use, you will have some¬ 
thing t rust worthy on which to base your law. We 
temperance people have looked over at the rum 
power very much as the soldiers of Israel did at 
Goliath of Gath. We have said: “He has upon 
his side two ot the most deeply-rooted instincts of 
human nature -In the dealer the a ppetite for gain, 
and In the drinker the appetite for stimulants— 
and we have nothing adequate to match against 
tills frlgluful pair." 
Bui, looking deeper, we perceive that., as God 
has provided in Nature an antidote for every poi- 
sou, and iu the Kingdom of Ilia Grace a cOmpensa- 
tion for every loss, so In human society he- has or¬ 
dained against King Alcohol, that worst loe of the 
social stale, an enemy beneath w hose blows he Is 
to bile the dust. Take the Instinct, of self-protec¬ 
tion (and there is none more deeply sealed.) What 
will be Its action in woman wheu the question 
comes up of licensing t he saleof a stimulant which 
nerves with dangerous strength tbo arm already 
so much stronger than her own, and which at the 
same time so crazes the brain God meant to guide 
that manly arm that It strikes down the wife a 
man loves and the little children, for whom when 
sober he would dio ? Dependent ror the support 
of herself and little ones, and for the maintenance 
of her home, upon the strength which alcohol 
masters and the skill it renders futile, will the 
wife and t he mother cast her vote to open or close 
the rum-shop door over against that home ? 
Then there Ls a second Instinct, so much higher 
and more sacred that I would not speak of It too 
near t he first. It Is as deep, but how high It reaches 
up towards Heaveu—the Instinct of a mother’s 
love, a wife’s devotion, a sister's faithfulness, a 
daughter’s loyalty! Friends, this love of women’s 
hearts was given for purposes of wider blessing to 
poor humanity than some of us have dreamed. 
Before this century shall end the rays of love 
which shine out from woman’s heart shall no 
longer be divergent; but through that magic lens^ 
that powerful sunglass which we term the ballot, 
they shall all converge their power, and burn and 
blaze on the saloon, till it shrivels up and In lurid 
vapors curls away like mist under the hot gaze of 
sunshine. Ere long our brothers, hedged about 
by temptations, even as we are by safeguards, 
shall thus match force with force ; shall set over 
against the dealer's avarice our timid instinct of 
self-protection, and match the drinker's love of 
liquor by our love of him. When this ;is done you 
will have doomed the rum power in America, even 
as you doomed the slave jxiwer when you gave the 
ballot to the slave. 
OBJECTIONS.—WOMAN’S INFLUENCE, 
“ But women should content themselves with 
educating public sentiment,” says one. Nay, we 
can shorten the process ; for we have the senti¬ 
ment all educated and stored away, ready for use 
In brain and heart. Only give us the opportunity 
to turn It to account where In the least time it can 
achieve the most: “ No ; but she should train her 
son to vote aright.” suggests another. But If she 
could go along with him, and thus make one vote 
two, should we t hen have a superfluous majority 
in a struggle intense as this one Is to he ? And 
then how unequal is her combat for her right to 
train her boy I Enter yonder saloon. See them 
gathered around their fiery or their foamy cups, 
according to the predominance In their veins of 
Celtic or Teuton blood. What are they talking of, 
those sovereign citizens? The times have changed. 
It is no longer tariff or no tariff, resumption of 
specie payments, or even the behavior of our 
Southern brethren that occupies their thought. 
No. Home questions have come elbowing their 
way to the front.. The child in the midst Is also In 
the market-place, and they are bidding for him 
there, the politicians of the saloon. So skillfully 
will they make out I he slate, so vigorously turn 
the crank ot the machine, that measures dear to 
them will triumph, and measures dear to the fond 
mother’s heart will fall. Give her. at least, a fair 
chance to offset by hoc ballot the machinations 
which tmpoill her son. 
WOMEN CANNOT FIGHT. 
“ But, women cannot fight,” you say, •• and for 
every ballot, cast we must tally with a bayonet.” 
Pray tell us when the law was promulgated that 
we must analyze the vote at an election, and throw 
out the balance of all men aged and decrepit, halt 
and blind ? Do not let t he colossal example of 
Judge David Davis so All our field of vision that 
we cannot perceive brain and tint bulk, to be the 
rational basis of citizenship. Avoirdupois counts 
greatly among the Zulus; hut. Is a consideration 
far less weighty with the Americans than It was 
before the Genova Arbitration. I venture the pre¬ 
diction that this Republic will prove herself the 
greatest fighter of the nineteenth and t wentieth 
centuries; but her bullets will bo molded tote prin¬ 
ters' type, her war will be a war of words, and un¬ 
derneath the white storm ol men’s and women's 
ballots her enemies—state rights, the saloon, and 
the commune—shall find their only shroud. 
“ WOMAN’S RIGHT." 
Of the right or women to the ballot I shall say 
nothing. All persons of Intelligence, whose pre¬ 
judices have not become Indurated beyond the 
power of logic’s sledge-hammer to break them, 
are convinced already. For the rest there is no 
cure save one — the death-cure — w hlch comes 
soon or late and will open more eyes than it closes. 
Of the Republic’s right to woman’s ballot T might 
say much. 
(To be continued .) 
-»•» ♦- 
LETTERS FROM A COUNTRY GIRL-No. 16. 
MARGARET B. HARVEY. 
If, as my fair friends remember, I have con¬ 
fessed to having the “art craze,” I form by no 
means an exceptional case. This universal inter¬ 
est In art matters Is a good tblpg for our land. 
To-day, instead of talking about Huxley and Dar¬ 
win, as our people did three years ago, they are 
discussing Morris and Eastlake; instead of gravely 
speculating over the philosophy of the unknown 
and the unknowable, they are actually making 
for themselves discoveries In the realms of the 
beautiful. And the result or It an Is going to be 
lovely homes everywhere—our hearth-worship will 
soon he conducted within worthy temples. Aud I 
want to be one of the messengers to carry this 
good news to the women far away from the cen¬ 
ters of artistic Influence. 
i was hesitating whether to tell first about the 
old musters, or to talk of art as regards some or Its 
manifestations to-day; and I have come to the 
conclusion that i will, so TO speak, give my pupils 
somctlilng to do, and let them out of their doing 
evolve a desire TO learn of persons and principles 
preceding their performance, ft Is well enough TO 
read and talk about art. but what you, my friends, 
really want is art m your homes, if you have 
been able to follow any of my suggestions about 
decoration, you are already In a fall' way to obtain 
what you desire. 
I used to think It Impossible for those In ordi¬ 
nary circumstances to derive much profit from the 
modern school of artistic adormneut. In one 
souse, 1 still think so—that Is, so lar as concerns 
costly materials; but In another, I think they may 
be greatly benented—when it comes TO the con¬ 
sideration of direct, aside from the means em¬ 
ployed. And as my friends have been very In¬ 
dulgent In listening to my experiences from time 
to time, perhaps they will be equally so now if I 
toll them how I furnished a parlor this sumraor, 
