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<e, modedy and
thorough bonhomie. Ita people must
not curtain or hedge each other ont too
completely, The houses must speak
frankly sand good-natnredly of frank
and good-natured people within, Neut-
ness attends it at every step. Ita
Augean stables do not infringe on the
nostrils of neighbors or the passing
slestrian, mixl the penetralia of the
itchen makes way with all smells that
offend and should be plucked ont.
Abundant shade from the common and
familiar trees that we all enjoy, and
sidewalks that do ned divide our eye-
sight with surrounding beautios, are
also among its traits. And, last and
best of all, the good a'reet must be
alive with the flesh and blood of liome-
loving, friend seeking people. Ofsuch
streets the best eitios ars made.
A Cool Clowneu meen
{Tot Ocean]
Alfonso is described as “an insipid
little fellow, who loves cigarettes, gar-
lic, girls, fast horses and brandy.” but
it takos someth ug more than a French
mob to “rattle” lum. Alonso's conduct
in Paris showed that he has a coul head,
even if be is » king.
By No Means So Much Encouraged |
u% Is Generally Supposed --The Pux. |
sle Explained, |
{Letter in Philadelphia Times] i
Contrary to a prevalent but most
erroneous impression, flirtation in gen-
eral is not encomaged at the great
watering-place frequented by
fashionable people, but is rather eon-
ducted at a disadvantage, and as a rule
has less favorable opportunities for its
development than are afforded at an
assembly, a rega‘ta, the opera or a score
of other easy facilities that the ordinary
of city life afford. Flirting in
large hotels has to be done decidedly,
as tobe expression goes, “on the
sly.” Life in the usual routine is
bounded within doors by the parlor,
the piazza, the passages, the dining
room, the sleeping apartment, snd pos-
hotels
caonrse
by accident (a dollar to the head waiter
sometimes does it) no gentleman gets a
chance of sitting and taking at
t' @ game table with a lady asoqumintance,
If he is wise he avoids it, as 1t 1s
to attract attention if he is seen much
with the lady other tines. Asto
the piazza ond the parlor, up to 1]
o'clock night, the hour w» n both
ried ladies, there is
either that
meals
mura
at
Are NsuRy £
§
nothing
Ml
he scene of me
tie
rr
frequenter ol
any other spot in
Nearly every old g
May knows of more than one married
date their bliss from the
night the question was popped in that
pavilion, for, as the song savs, ""firting
leads to grsver deeds.” and the dal-
liances are not all amusement, but often
Whisky and Talent,
{Texas Siftinga
“Take that bottle and go ont and get
me some whisky.” said Col. Jumjams to
he sad-eved woman whose musfortun
wriate
“(Give me money to bur it with.”
“(ive yon money! Why, any darn
wit to get whisky without woney is
what takes talent. I thought you had
wie talent.”
I'aking up the bottle with a sigh. the
in a short time she returned. Appar
she had been successful, for she
placed the bottle before lum, and sad,
o low, reproachinl tones
‘There! take it, and drick to your
ieart’s content.”
“Now, that's what I call smart. Yon
have got real genius or vou couldn't get
whisky withont money;” and placing
the bottle to hits month he was about
to quench his thirst when be discovered
the bottle wax empty.
“Why. what does this mean?”
‘It means that anybody can drink
whisky when the wlusky i= w the Lot-
tle but it takes real talent to drink
whisky when there 1» noue ww the bot
Drink away J koow you have
1tiy
Where Andy Johnson Lived and Died.
[Chattancogn Times |
In Greenville, as yon are aware. the
and pres
dent, and here he is buried. The shop
in which he labored astaifor vo v stande
Just
ever the entrance to the shop, which is
colored family is now hving, 1s a pine
board, upon which is written. in Jetters
now almost erased Ly rain and storm,
the following “A. Johnson, Talore”
A little out from the western border of
the town stands the monument of mar.
ble which marks the resting place of
“Andrew Johnson, President of the
United States.”
{Inter Ocean, }
The Yokohama Gazette declares that
all efforts to intredace Christ anity in‘e
Javan have been pitiable failures, an i
that the peopla of that conntry jesard
reign miss. onaries vith jealous aver
HE HAD SEEN IT ALL.
The Lofty. Traveled Youth, and the
Lady Whe Took Him Dewn,
[W. A. Croffut in Pioneer Press.
There is a youth on board who makes
himself a bore with his lofty airs. He
wears #4 rose-colored suit, and carries a
smooth nipensto k with a chamois h
monnted atop; snd over his fl
hair, which is beautifully parted behind,
he wears a red Turkish fez He fear-
everbody's acquaintance
the first day out, and then at once be-
gan to badger them about their travels
“Hm! Bo you went up the Rigi—and
over 1, the Beheideck, of course,’
said to some ladies,
“Yes, up the Rigi, but only to the
Kulm,” they answered
“Oh! You should have gone over to the
Seheideck! | wouldn't give a
go up the Rigi and not go to the Sched
deck. Why, it's a great deal finer than
the Kulm ten times better
didn’t ye know that?”
To a clergyman who was speaking of
Heidelberg he said. “1 sappose
went around to the Bench, didn’t ye?”
What beneh 7”
¢ Bench
xn
AXen
lessly made
cent to
Yiew
von
i
“12 Ww
Bench ?
bot the rock
+
he Hor
And sl
her bands
SOM
t! Ong
BOC iat fing over one
rived again
and clapped
her hearers laughed,
looked
He
volar
all at ne, who very
WAS
rhitfu walked away,
of the o8
of the evelopadia down in the saloon an
bour later. and since that has been very
quiet, wdeed,
An Appetzing Mand. Made Fish
(Boston Journal)
There was one feature in the
enjoyed by Lord Co.eridgo
dinner
at Dostun
fhe cover was taken from one of the
dishes, revealing a tine specimen of sea
a od with marigolds and sprays of
green, and flanked by slices of lemon
flosers and green, all dis
posed in » manner to set off in an appe
tizmug manner the delicous looking
fi<h. An attempt to serve it made ap
inary art hal been most successfully
imitated in ceramics. The fish with
the platter. 1 ord Col ridge was great
artist. The dish vas painted by Miss
The Language of Nt. Louis
[Now York Heral 1.)
St. Tonia is not able to compete with
elevators
and feet, or in the muscle of its politi-
Bat St. Louis is £18 head centre
A Se
report thus: “The work of icoaoclasm
is no! endemic but nciversal, and the
breaker of our images presents himself
most inopportunely as to place and
season, provieg that our idols are of
worship is wasted on a thin vubstance.”
This rendered into Chiorgoese means:
“Johnoy Malligan, the statesman, weal
into Mulhooley's saloon, and ws no one
would fight L
whole crond.”
The Climate for Good Veleen
{Excnange.
An English newspaper says Ameri
oan singers have made a mach greater
mark in Great Britain than American
actors, notwithstanding the oonspica
ous absence in America of long-estalr
lished academies and colleges of music,
“The climate,” it adds, “clear and dry
as it is, will scarcely wocount for) the
number of good voices produced in
Amorica, for one effect of the Ameti
can climate is apparently to pinch the
throat and cause the high-pitched tones
and the wal twang by which the
enunciation of #0 many Americans is
marked."
*
WHEN WINDS WERE LOW,
When winds were low aud bright the
mer hours,
Boros minstrel,
garden fair,
Borsock his harp, and feft
With silent strings smong
flowers
With gentle touch to wake its murmorings,
In vain the lily and the ross esayved
sud the wind across is
strayed,
And with sweet music
strings;
Whiloms my heart had learned
ife's ier sue with silent «
Ire
wandering through my
it anding there
the wondering
GOs gunner
throbbed the golden
ves reload
no mmelony
bord;
ir Lo te
ich with oa # Gam 0rd
And all ny heart was
ass
Wives,
Mormon
Heart-Broken a.
vyver §
A Npecial Vessel for Stanieg
Ti o! { i - ¢
i LAIRCs
Maviog a Veagment of flumanity,
[Chie Herald }
I saw one of our policemen drag a
drenched and tat'ered bit of humanity
ou! of a haliway the other n 2 jush
before davbreak. The night had been
wild overhead and below,
The cloads were piled upon each other,
sud cover each other, as |
and
breaking up of
The
of the eng
or
Inerciliess
Lave seen the
together in the
a long, dreary winter,
re was nothing unasual in the sight
just related An old-
time feeln g crept over me, how-
evi, and I followed that stalward
sentinel of the citys safety and
Lis little captive, who looked to
me as if he were but a chunk of a
olond dropped from the black embank-
ments above. 1 followed them inte the
station, and the “culprit,” for such he
had now grown to be, was taken below,
Mavbe the curiosity was idle and weak,
but I went to the police court later,
and waited until this brat, whose face
had been photographed in the mind,
was bronght out. There have been a
thousand sach soenes in such places
The officer said the “kid,” I think ha
called him that, was a night prowler,
and would be a thief unless he was soud
to the house of correction.
lhe judge seemed to tarry in this
boy's case, and looked over the beach,
the eaves of which the chap's
hair could just be seen. He asked the
boy if he had heal what the olicer
sail. The face looked up and the
words from the lips were so low thad
they could just bo heard: “Please, sir,
if 1 hind somebody to back me in it 1
mean to do what's right.” 1 saw the
judze run his pen through a name oa
the sheet before him, and the boy went
out alone. “He may have lied. as most
of them do,” said the juige. ‘Lut I'll
back him for on, aud i believe that if
somebody would back these waifs of
the street to the right otensr they
would make biter men. 1 none
thought of it before, though, myseil.”
The clerk of the court told me after
ward that the fines during the re-
mainder of that session were “tempered
with mercy.”
———
Crasa
ture
CE
Eegond of the Nigatin gale.
[Boston Budget.)
_The nightingale's habit of singing at
night, and the imaginary sadness of its
song. are accounted for by a levend to
the effect that in ancient days the night
ingale and the blindworin had «nly sno
eye apiece. The bird borrowel the
reptile’s eve in order to go with two
eyes to a feast, and afterwards refused
to restore it. The blindworm vowed
vengeance on its perfidions friend.
Consequently, the nightingale is afraid
to go to sleep at night lest the blind.
worm should attack it during its sham.
bar. And in order to keep itsell awake
it sings, resting its breast against u
thoro, the pain caused by which ren