A Woman and a Dog

WOMAN AND A DOG. (Selected.)'

I have just been looking at the pictures in a prominent magazine of a dozen •r more "women and their dogs," only two of whom (the women) own in public print to being mothers, and only two are unmarried. There is one woman I know who instructs her maid to let "Lottie" out to meet her when returning home; and will pick her "Lottie" dog up, kiss it on the mouth, and rapturously exclaim: "Did darling come to meet mama!" Faugh! It makes me sick. If I were a man with a wife who wouldn't "mother" anything but a dog, I'd take the first train to Utah or some other country where women are willing to be what God designed them for, and children are considered a heavensent blessing. And a man has got down pretty low when he consents to stand ' 'father'

to a brute. We all sympathize with her when she sings "the lips that touch liquor ' shall never touch mine, ' but I think he is a great deal worse off when he has to share his kisses with my lady's pug. Just imagine the Madonna pictured holding a puppy instead of the baby Christ? "Sacrilege?" Not a bit of it. Every woman is the living exponent of potential motherhood and every woman in whom ;

is the spirit of maternity is a visible Madonna.

0, yes; I like dogs — faithful, honest affectionate creatures — in their place;

but childhood's place is not a dog's place. "The horrid thing!" (that's me), cries Mrs. Fitz-poodle Smythe, "when she knows I gave a thousand dollars last year to the Orphan's Charitable Institution." Bless your soul, children don't want institutioning they want mothering. Think of the arms holding a brute against a womanly breast when there are so many, many little baby heads pillowed only on cold charity. Think of a woman turning away from grieving rose- leaf lips to kiss a slimy muzzle. Think of the heart- hungry little ones to whom blows are as many as the caresses you give to your dog. Think of the little human buds, choked by the weeds of poverty and neglect, that might grow fit for heavenly gardens in the very places where you are raising dog-weed. Go to, woman; the savage mother, with her babe strapped to her back, is ages nearer the womanly ideal than you. Unless you can "evolute" a "special dispensation," heaven will be a mighty lonesome place for you with only the little ones there, and Fido and his kind shut out. Frances Gilbreath Ingersoll.

GALVESTON. BY JAMES G. DUFFIN, PRESIDENT OF THE CENTRAL STATES MISSION.

Galveston is of especial importance to the people of the south-west as being their principal seaport, doing more foreign business than any port south of New York. It ranks third as an exporting port, and along with New Orleans as a cotton port. More than forty steamship lines enter Galveston harbor, and nine trunk lines of railway carry the products of the south-west into the port, and return laden with those brought in by water; and transportation facilities are constantly being increased to meet the growing trade of this important port. The wharf frontage of Galveston more than six miles, furnishing accommodation for is

ninety or more large sea-going vessels. This frontage is owned by the United States government, state of Texas, and several railway and wharf companies. The Southern Pacific railway recently reconstructed its docks, and put in immense grain elevators to furnish better facilities for handling its growing business. With the Isthmian ship canal completed, Galveston will be of increised importance to the south-west. Galveston island, on which the city is built, has an interesting history. It was named in honor of Conde de Galvez, governor of Louisiana, who, in 1732, sent out an expedition to explore the coast west of New Orleans. When the expedition reached the island, one white man was found upon it, subsisting by hunting and fishing.

In 1816,