YELLOW.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume V, Issue 45, 8 November 1890, Page 19

YELLOW.

A writer in the '.'oraAff/ Jftnpugskc tells a characteristic story of the famous Mrs Fletcher, of Tanerigg, whose beautiful face the reaxiers of her autobiography will remember as immortalized at the age of eighty by the elder Richmond. She ha«i been very ill. but was recovering. when<he hear*! that Mazzini, the Italian patriot, was in London, and against the trounsel of her friends, who feared the journev an-t the excitement for her. she determined, notwithstanding her age. to go up to London, ami be present at a public breakfast to be given in his honour. * But yoa have no bonnet : yon eannot appear in that h«K*i.' they urged. ‘ I will nave a bonnet for the oeca-ion.' was her reply, and straightway word was despatched to a milliner in London to have a bonnet. ■ suitable for an obi lady of eighty.' made ami forwarded to Euston Station to meet her on her arrival by the night train. The bonnet was made ar.-i despatches!, and the brave old lady, wh.xse heart never grew ol,i, travellexi up to town to find her bonnet in waiting. ‘ And.' said Mrs Fletcher, • what do you think, my dear. I found w hen I openexi the bonnet-box ? A bright" yellow satin bonnet, with a yellow lancer s plume in it ! "I wasdetermine'i not to miss Mazzini, so I put it on. never looked in the glass, went to the breakfast, and forgot al! about my bonnet for the time being: but after breakfast 1 drove straight to the milliners, and said. I dare -ay a little angrily : • How could you semi me such a thing as this ’ I aske-I for a bonnet for an old lady of eighty : ’ ■ Ma'bun,' replied the milliner. ■ we have no old ladies •>t eighty in Londom The moral of the story is plainly this, that it is no( in the rush and erush of town that such a beautiful obi age Gto be found, but in the quiet of such a h--rue a- Mrs Fletcher had made for herself amid the English lakes. FOarPRIXTS IN THE -ANn. She • I'm afraid papa doesn't like y.xu a bit. tfeorge. He : ’ Well, what of it f I've gxH too much sand to be afraid of the old mam' She apprehensively : ’ Ye-, but sand is just tiie stuff to make footprints in, George.'