Buffalo Jo. | Fort Concho Cor. Philadelphia Times] Maj. Doyle and his wife came back 40 the post that fall By the death of fhe colonel he became lieutenant- oolonel, nud was placed in command. The newly married couyle occupied the eld colonels quarters, and Mrs. Dovle seemed vary happy, but I occasionally wmoticed dark lines under her eves, as though from loss of sleep or intense mental agony, and her face to me al- ways wore an expression of hopeless re- signation to a fate she had no hand in shaping. Before spring it began to be whispered about that the major and his wife did not live happily together, and 3 was also whispered that he wasin- tensaly jealous of one of the subalterns, a young lieutenant, who paid Mrs. Dovle marked attention. In the spring Mrs. Doyle gave birth to a danghter, and for a while the tongues of the gossips were silenced. Finally they began to wag again, and one day matters came to a fons. The major, returning suddenly from a scout after Indians, found tha handsome lieutenant in company with ns wife. Hot words passed between the two men, and the lieutenant struck his officer. The latter, mad with passion, drew his pistol and laid the voung man at his feet dead. Itwas then that his wife's long slumbering passion Wis aronsed. She threw her- self on the body of her murdered lover with pilect screams, and the major attempt d to raise her she shrank feo him with loathing. “1 hate vou,” she eoried, and blazed. “1 hate you ave hated vou. You bought me, and for Jove of my poor father and to save him fro nin and disgrace I consented to the sacrifice, You have mur only man I ever loved—for 1 did love him. Yon have made me and I curse you for it.” superior wien her eves alwavs dered the am, She uttered this philippic with alr i swept irom UU ened his door met daily, neither seemed to be aware of the existence of the other Lie Col. Dovle was court-martialed for the shooting, but the commission exoner- ated lnm. Mrs. Doyle took nu gambler named Davis, logether. She never old they never noticed her after the separation transferred to a post morthern territories wife never met mained at the gv life. mast ov gayety : DWardl) fered the most 1 drown her sorrow and [caw | I state of “sno0ok hie of a buflal BOCOT to the ome Bhe ] she = depray Jearne rough Pnfiulo womanhs disappeared. en the 3 and voice of ) a tragedy queen, +3 a. . ti She never dark again, aad, although 1€ roo. a é acquaintances, . A few m Ceol. Dovle Again, post seemed is and rend that si I J0. by which the day of her death. Jo was good shot with the rifle or she could throw a lariat most practiced vaqueros. hike a sailor, cursed pirate, nd ro Ii a prettily pistol, an with She dr: like le like a Bho wonld hunt all day and gamble all might. She knew this conntrv like a Rook, and for vears was a government guide. Bhe had a constitution of iron, and was capable of enduring any emount of suffering and exposare un- eomplainingly. After Fletcher died— he was killed at Fort Davis by Arizona AM in '76—-Jo drifted from bad to worse, Her associates were of the most depraved character and she was drank two thirds of the time. During all these years she had no sommunication with Devie and knew pothing of the dispo-ition he had made of ther aanghter, Doyle died in the ring of 1880. He had been on the re fired list several years prior to his death, and when he finally “passed in his chips” no one regretted it, for I don’t think there was an officer in the army who was held in such universal detestation. Jo disappeared shortly after the news reached us of her has band's death, and did not tnrn up at the t again until after the Victoria raid the fall of 1850. One day she came in on the overland, and two hours after ber arrival was roaring drunk. She was at this time only the wreck of the woman she had once been, and I, who remembered her in the old days, oonld scarcely credit the change which liquor and vice had wrought. Jo visited all the saloons and then took it into her bead to go through the post. She was swaggering along, with # clay pipe be- yomng girls passed her. Two of them were officers’ daughters and the third a friend who was paying them a visit. Jo Jeerod at them horribly and, flourishing the bottle over her head, gave utter- anos to a string of obscenity and pro- fanity that would have mado the hard- est sinner shudder. turned snd ran, screaming with fright, do followed them, yelling wildly. fell, cutting a deep gash in her head on a sharp stone. She lay there speech- Joss and without motion. The two offi- eers’ daughters continned their flight, but their companion, when she saw the accident which had befallen their pur- suer, retraced her steps and knelt be- mide the prostrate woman, She wiped away the blood with her dainty hand- kerchief, and laid her soft white hand on the depraved woman's face. The touch, light as it was, caused Jo to open her eyes, and she rose to her feet with a blush of shame on her cheek. “Thavkee,” she said, and would have passed on, but the girl detained her. “You will forgive me,” she said, “bo- owuse we were indirectly responsible your fll Yam very sorry that it | occurred, and I would like to do some- 2” was Jo's ques- that is, if you will let me.” “What's your name? i “Minnie Doyle,” was the answer, “I am stopping with the commanding offi- cer.” She did not notice the sudden look of pain which sliot across Jo's face, and she failed to hear the convulsive sob which rose to the fallen woman's lips. “Minnie Doyle,” repeated me- chanically, and then paused. Perhaps during the boief moment of silence all the bitter past rose before her and she had time to compare the two pictures—that of Josephine Debo, innocent and happy, with that of Buf- falo Jo, depraved and miserable. Any- way a great hungry look came into her eyes and she took a step toward the young girl. “Minnie,” she said, *“will you kiss me ?" “Yes.” was the brave answer, and the youug lips. as yet unstained and mpol- luted, were uprnised and ju-t touched Jo's swelled and repulsive mouth. The girl repressed a shudder, and Jo turned abruptly away and walked straight to the little jacal where she mode her home. She drank no more whisky that day, and about midnight the post surgeon was called in to at- tend her, She was violently ill, an sinking very rapidly. After examin the surgeon her case ¢ 1 J Oo MUCALLY, dee hope of her recovery was morning,” that all “Ola ed i 1 afara wo AM Wii ie WALTE said eried Jo, st ROT BeZ €Z HOW 3 be was vile, and room Jo started dasghier!™ she cried, aris vered the girl throagh r fory ght evel rue blo brows If a woman ments that dark comes under anotl “Yan Dyke blonde } Mandeville 18 one « the nj les we have ever seen, or stunni Her Lair complexion Diack as The is a type of beauty most is a wonderful yellow, fair as a lily, and her sloes, with evebrows lo “Van Dyke blonde” not often the more distingne type Although almost what is requisite to be a true brunette, there are still a few who are not even educated up % it, and who call a woman who has a dark clear skin, “cheeks like roses and Lips like the cherry,” urplish black, and dark gray eves, a yrunette. No woman isa true brunette who has not very brown or very black eyes, What is known as the "Irish type” of beauty in one of the loveliest. No eye is so blue, so large, so expressive, or so Eeavily fringed aa that of the possessor of this type; no hair is so glossy and dark and heavy; no complexion so rosy and healthful, and to people in general this type is the most bewitching and fascinating. A type of beanty that has had Ha day, but of which we see representatives oc- casionally, is what is known ns the “strawberry blondes.” Brick red hair, blue eyes and fa'r, pink complexions, are the accompaniments of this type. The “yellow blonde" is another type which is rapidly guing out of fashion, and ‘yellow blondes” aro seldom seen now except on the stage. Fanny Daven- rt is an examp.e of this type. The daughters of Spain and Italy are the best examples of the brunette type of beaaty; those of England and Ger many of the blonde type, and those of Greece of the Van Dyke type. | Here in America we have a mixtare of all kinds of types, as we have a mix- ture of all nations. The true American type of beauty, however, is neither of the blonde nor brunette, Van Dyke nor Irish, Daniel Gabriel Rossetti, straw- berry or yellow blonde types. The Ler eves mate Aen brown, eyes of gray or blue, complex- ion rather white, clear and devoid of . rich color, and features not by any means as regular as those of the other more expression. SA NAA “Our First Danghter.” [Now York Post.) It is told of the wife of Buchanan's first' postmaster general. M+. Brown, that she had been married before, and #0 had her husband, and each had a daughter by the first marriage. Then they had another daughter Mrs. Brows used to present the daughters at her receptions in this way: “I'hus 1s Miss Brown, Mr. Brown's daughter by his first wife: this is Miss Sanders, my daughter by my first husband, and this is Brown, our joint daughter!” ! THE LIMEKILN CLUB marks on Physiciang’ Practices, [Detroit Free Press. | finally got Gardner, as Samuel Shin to order. “In de fust place he sm a young man who tars up sidewalks, lugs off gates, takes up two sents in de street kyar, walks six abreast on de sidewalk, cuiti- vates slang an’ am only two pints re moved from a He graduates, He Las 'arned some Latin, sur- gery, and what he doan’ know 'bout medicine he ain't gwine to practice on. By aa’ by you h'ar of him as a snccess- fal deetal, He has stuck his stakes an’ drawn his lines. He has l'arned dat castor ila am a gentle he will purceed from dat to figger what may be good fur typhed fever. “De doctah am a man who puckers his mouf an’ shakes hie head. He am wery careful not to talktoo much. If of his patients foun’ datpgua pura meant water de doetabh woul consider the Case hopeless, What be lacks in knowl edge he reckons de family will make up in good nussin’, lonfer ROTLE ’ cathartic, an ne he doctah finds de pulse am a wis up an’ de t he knows daram a fever, happen to be ¢ Was : four It takes Little to mak them. Often a wh can made a blank by the s maple fact that its constituent residents their habits of bome life in the right place. If they are of the middie New England elasses, for instance, with whom itis a law, as fixed as that of in uireet be have not learned the hionse shut to darkness and «i while the rear is chosen of housebiold life, the street is ae less as the parlors that line it. There are streets where fashion rules. It is apparent in an exoess of outrestaluary, vases, shell-bordered flower strained efforts of the landscape “ar tist.” and tortures in tnmming. But the proper physiognomy of a street lies between these two extremes, where culture and means form a Lappy and sensible union. Here parlor blinds are always open by day and the front windows are bright with lamp or hearth fire by night. Fences, if there are any, are not elaborate fie ears fife but good, plain barriers against truant cows and a reasonable Thus far-and-no farther to lawle«s boys. The lawns are and boys and girls tread them as own native and trespasdess heath and its enjoyment make np the street, and to live well it must The their Life ileal have bare hut is out of pia-e, upon senseless house and home display are as bad. The popular street combines evi- dences of good sen