CHIT-CHAT.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XX, Issue 6829, 6 October 1883, Page 3 (Supplement)

CHIT-CHAT.

Mr. Chamberlain, the father of the American lady famous in Europe for her beauty, "trill- pot-pni'mifc-plirttngraplmQ—£Q.~,.Sell . his daughter's pictures. ■ It is sa:id that a pair of pretty eyes are the best mirror for a man to shavo by. Exactly so, and it is unquestionably the case that many a man has been Bbaved by them: "Ouida," Mdlle. de la Ramee, is now strictly secluded, a cloud having darkened her mind, it is said. Something darkened it a good while ago, most people have thought. , Standing on Ceremony : "That was a tunny story Mr. Dixon told, Aunt Jessie—the one that made you laugh so much you know?" " Yes. Why didn't you laugh Ida?" "Oh, I don't know Mr. Dixon well enough." "Save the Sweetest Kiss for Mother" is the title of the latest song. The author evidently overlooks the fact that the young man's precious time is so completely occupied in paying his respects to the daughter that the old lady stands a mighty slioa chance of getting any kiss at all. A Miss Mary Bullock, travelling with a marionette company in England, was injured in getting out of a railway carriage, and obtained such heavy damages that a new trial has been granted on the ground that Miss Mary and her.sisters were so beautiful that they turned the heads of the jury. The young daughters, of the Prince and Princess of Wales are growing graceful girls, as also is the tall young Princess Mary, daughter of Princess Mary, Duchess of Teck, and can hardly be treated loDger as quite children ; though, wisely and kindly to them, they are kept in all the freshness of unspoiled yonth.

Twanty-five years ago a young lady of this town had a singular dream. She consulted a dream-book and leaned that she would have four hasbands before she reached the age of thirty. This made her rather independent, and she is now an old maid of forty-two and has never had a beau. Some dream-books are not as reliable as they might be. He'd been waltzing with his host's uqly daughter, and was in a corner repairing damages. Here he was espied by his wouldbe papa-in-law. "She is the flower of my family, sir," said the latter. "So it seems," answered the young man. " Pity she comes off so, ain't it ?" he continued, as he essayed another vigorous rub at the white Bpots on his coat sleeve. "She thirsted for one fond look—she starved for a kiss dented," says Ella Wheeler in one of her poems. Poor thing! In these days, when " fond looks" are flying all aboof; from every street corner, and " kisses" are not denied when anybody knows where they are wanted, it is too bad. We have heard of starving to death in the midst of plenty." The poor creature seems to be trying it on. Ten years ago two loving hearts were separated by a little quarrel owing to the miscarriage of an explanatory letter. He went West and married; she stayed East and mar/ied, and now both are once more free. He has eight children and the jaundice, and she seven and the dyspepsia, and neither has any idea of ever marrying again. Truth may be stranger than fiction, but it is not so romantic. Pianos to right of us, - Pianos to leit of as. Pianos Id front of "us, Battle and thunder. Ours not to reason why, Oars but to list or die. Oars not to make reply, Lest we might blunder. Oh, for a moment's peaco ! Oh, for a sweet release ! Oh, will they never coaao! Sadly we wonder.

Alady tells the following story illustrative of-servant-maidism :—" The following occurred to a friend of mine in the country. Having married, she considered that a lady's maid was a necessary adjunct to her new position, so she advertised for onfe. A very grandlooking person replied, and was engaged, one of tbe conditions being that she should have a piano in her bedroom. Soon, however, she came to my friend and told her that she would like to be allowed to practice on the grand piauo in the drawing-room, as she feared that she was losing her touch by only playing on a ' cottage.'" Mrs. Parvenu had recently furnished her hew • house, and it was gorgeously done. Everything was in style, and the carpets were woven in one piece to fit each room. Mrs. Parvenu has a daughter, and of her Bhe was talking to a visitor. "Ah, Mrs. Parvenu," said the lady, "your daughter does not go out much ?" " No, not a great deal,- it tires the poor dear so much." "Indeed? • Isn't she well?" "Oh, .yes, well enough ; but you see at so many of the houses where she must call she has to walk over the seams in the carpets and. it hurts the poor dear's feet and makes her so tired."