The Family Circle

New Zealand Tablet, 20 July 1911, Page 1381

The Family Circle

UTILE THINGS •• lip.'-.- ______ A raindrop is a little thing, Many make the showers; , Little moments flitting by Make up all the hours. One little star at close of day Vainly seems to twinkle. Till at length the shining hosts All the blue besprinkle. A smile is but a little thing To the happy giver, Yet it ofttimes leaves a calm Over life’s rough river; Gentle words are never lost, Howe’er small their seeming: Sunny rays of love are they O’er our pathway gleaming. - Ah! it is the little things— Little joys and trials, Little pleasures, little griefs, And little self-denials, Little hopes and little fears— Fill our morn and even ; And little beams of love and faith Light our way to heaven. L THE STORY OF A SILK GOWN * The Boyers! And pray who are the Boyers, Jeannette?’ ‘ They are the new lodgers; nice people. The husband works in a factory.’ And the eldest daughter is ill?’ Yes, Madame. The doctor came twice yesterday. Pneumonia I think he called it. If Madame could help them in any way ! Madame is so charitable !’ Which storey did you say?’ The seventh, Madame, and the first door to the left.’

‘ Very well, I will go at once.’ ’ ‘ But Madame has her beautiful silk dress on. If Madame should spoil it?’ Oh, never mind my dress! I will throw the trail over my arm.’ And, suiting the action to the words, kind-hearted, impulsive Madame S. caught up the folds of her skirt and turned to mount the staircase.

What a lovely dress it was! All tucks and lace, and lace and tucks. And how well Madame remembered the first time she had worn it, at Count Bui off’s matinee! What a sensation she had created as she entered the room!- And, then, the whispers she had overheard! ‘ How lovely!’ 1 Just perfect 1’ ‘What style!’ A smile of gratified vanity rose to her lips as she recalled these flattering remarks. And how anxious she had been lest I lie dress should not be finished in time! ‘ For Thursday? Impossible!’ the busy dressmaker had declared. *_ ‘ We have already more orders than we can fill.’ But Madame 8. knew how to get her way. ‘lf that be the case,’ she said, knitting her pretty eyebrows, ‘ I am afraid that I must take my custom elsewhere for I have positively nothing to wear. I must have something new for the occasion.’ And the workwoman had given in at once. Madame shall have the dress,’ she had promised, with a rather forced smile, ‘ on Thursday at three o’clock.’ These pleasing recollections brought* Madame 8. to the top of the stairs. After pausing a moment to gather breath, she turned toward a door on which Boyer ’ was written in large, sprawling characters, and rapped gently. A woman came in answer to the knock ; she had evidently been crying, for her eyes showed signs of recent tears. Madame’s kind heart was all sympathy.

I hear that your daughter is ill. Is she better? May I see her?’

Receiving no reply, she followed the mother’s glance, and became aware for the first time of a bed in which a girl of some -fifteen lay propped up by pillows. Madame -S. ’ was too accustomed to sickness not to read aright the serious signs in the face before her. With a feeling of intense pity, she turned once more to the mother. How did it happen ? Has she always been delicate?’ Oh, no!’ said the poor woman. ‘ Only a fortnight ago my child was in perfect health. You see it was this way. My daughter works at a-fashionable diessmaker s, and with the New Year a press of work set. in, so that the child rarely came heme till nine or ten o clock at night. But last Thursday week she was kept up till two in the morning, in order to finish a purple silk dress. It belonged to a lady who wanted it immediately. She couldn’t wait, she said. Madame knows how people are. The cold was intense at that early hour, and, coming straight from an over-heated loom, my daughter caught the chill which has brought her to death’s door.’ _ ‘I pity the woman who ordered that dress!’ said Madame S. indignantly. ‘ I wouldn’t be in her shoes tor anything.’ At this moment the sick girl called her mother to her side. ... . . ‘ Mother,’ she whispered, pointing straight at her visitor, that is the gown—the lovely gown—we worked so hard to finish.’ * . The words, though faintly uttered, were overheard by Madame S. As their full significance dawned upon her, she stood speechless with horror. If the child should die, she would have caused her death ! Blindly she groped her way out of the door and down the starcase. In vain her self-love whispered in self-defence: ‘ But you didn’t know; you couldn’t tell.’ Madame S. was too honest to make an attempt at selfjustification. Throwing herself at the foot of her crucifix, she prayed long and earnestly that the child might xecover and she herself ho spared a terrible burden of remorse. Her prayer was heard ; that night the sick girl took an unexpected turn for the better. Every delicacy that wealth could supply was placed at her disposal by Madame S., and before long the patient was on the high road to recovery. . Several yea latex’, a relative who was staying with Madame S. made this remark: Dear Jeanne, you are now so much more considerate towards others! What can have effected the change?’ Madame S. laughed gaily as" 5 she replied: ‘ Ah, you would like to know? Well, the truth is that I possess a splendid talisman against selfishness. It hangs upstairs in ray cupboard; and I wouldn't part with it for anything, though it is only an old silk gown.’ THE ROMANCE OF THE WHITE ELEPHANT The glory of the white elephant has long since departed. Even in Siam, its native country, there are many evidences that it will soon cease to' be treated other than the ordinary elephants. The contrast between its former state and its present forlorn condition is remarkable. The early historians of the Orient have left accounts of the capture of the white elephant in different parts of Indo-China, all of which lay great stress on the magnificent ceremonies and the great delight of the kings to welcome the beast to their capitals, T he fortunate individual who discovered the whereabouts of a white elephant was at once raised to the highest rank of nobility and very likely married to the king’s daughter, though this was no great honor, as he probably had many dozens to dispose of. The capture being effected, guards of nobles were mounted over the animal, which was bound with silken ropes and detained in the jungles where it was caught. ‘ A palace was erected for its reception, close to that of the king, and roads were made from the place of capture to the principal highway. Installed in it?

palace, loaded with honors, and with the highest sounding titles, surrounded with the golden umbrellas and other insignia of greatness, the white elephant led a life of luxurious-ease, lulled to sleep by the choral chants of priests and amused during waking hours by the songs and dances of the royal corps de ballet. It was fed on delicious fruits and vegetables, which were specially selected and prepared, bathed every day by obsequious attendants, thereby increasing the glory of the king, and securing the superiority and stability of the fortunate country which possessed it. Some forty-five years ago the King of Siam possessed a white elephant which was the chief delight and pride of the sovereign in spite of his high education and good intellect., As the greatest compliment lie could think of paying to the Queen of England he sent her, by the hands of her envoy, a few hairs pulled expressly for her from the tail of his beloved animal. Later, when the object of his affections died, he sent to his friend, Sir John Bowring, a touching letter in English and a small piece of its beautiful white skin.’ The recent addition of a young specimen to a native collection gave an opportunity for comparison of existing with past conditions. A small pecuniary recompense was thought a sufficient reward for the man who made the capture. When the animal was tame enough to be transported it was marched across the country to the nearest railway station, where a specially constructed truck was waiting to receive it. But there were no gilded pillars, no silk and satin hangings, no admiring multitude to do homage to the mascot of their king and country. In Bangkok, however, some preparations were made. A considerable crowd was waiting at the station, and the streets were decorated here and there with bunting. A procession of four white elephants, residents of the capital, escorted the newcomer to its home. The trappings of the white elephants were tawdry, threadbare red cloth, instead of the jewel-studded velvet and silk, and the diamond and ruby no longer ornamented the white tusks. The white elephant’s existence is now hardly superior to that of the common black herd. A SUGGESTION * Doctor,’ said a young lady, ‘ I want you to suggest a course in life for me. I have thought of journalism —— ’ ‘What are your natural inclinations?’ ‘ Oh, my soul yearns and throbs and pulsates with an ambition to give the world a life-work that shall be marvellous in its scope and weirdly entrancing in the vastness of its structural beauty!’ ‘ My dear madam, you’re born to be a milliner!’ FAMILY FUN A Palindrome.—A palindrome is a sentence that reads both ways, as for instance that of Napoleon: * Able was I ere I saw Elba.’ When Charles Grant, Colonial Secretary, was made Lord Glenelg in 1835, he was called Mr. Facing-both-ways, because his title, Glenelg, was a perfect palindrome, that could be read with the same result from either end. Here is an ingenious specimen: Repel evil as a live leper.’ The most perfect of English palindromes is the excellent adage:— ‘ Egad, a base tone denotes a bad age,' and the soldier’s remark is also another good example : ‘ Snug and raw was I ere I saw war and guns.’ The Sphinx’s Riddle.—The riddle which the sphinx propounded to the Thebans and the solution of which she made a condition of her withdrawal from the State was as follows:— ‘ What animal has one voice, at first four, then two, and at last three feet?’ Oedipus discovered the answer to be ‘ man,’ who in infancy, from using his hands as well as his feet in walking, 'may be said to have four feet (all fours), in after life employs but two, and in old age to these he adds a staff, which may be reckoned a third.