Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 17 February 1884 — Page 4

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Close to the oak,storm-scarred and broini. n,?"18 ®mpty nest clings torn and bare on.BDowflake is the only down mat nutters low and nestles there. P?~,

BS,t'th.wart

the

•ombre air I feel

,*• Throbs from that far and sun-klsied 5-5 shore, |'V 4

AS?

clustered memories reveal

5 a^'^Anat bloom and song shall oomeonce

•14*-. =5** Then I shall trusting bide till spring

*ip» .Attunes her low-wind melotue, »*., And bloom shall mi the air and bring My darling singer back to me.

i_ ,t Etlqaette of Visiting. THB NEW YOEK IDS A. Either in New York or in the conntry it is a good rule to lay down that no visit should be paid before luncbeor time, without some very special reason

Many ladies in New York give a general order of "not at home" befor« luncheon or,as they truly say,there an numbers of their acquaintance whos*time seems to hang as a dead weight on their hands, and, if they once ad mitted one of these desceuvre friend in the morning they would never have any quiet time for correspondence oi reading or any pursuit in which the} are interested. Of course there are sometimes instances when such a rule can be broken though, as when

Home Novelties.

Novelties in articles for the writingtable are alwayB in demand. Here is one that will be new to many. The case is of leather, or silk, and on it is pasted a sheet of writing paper, the right-hand corner of the front page being turned back, just to show that it is double, and to avoid the stiff look that is ruinous to decorative work. Across the paper, but rather to the left, an envelope is thrown carelessly, face downward. This allows the seal to be visible the postmark is imitated with pen and ink. On the paper there is some writing, and on the top left-hand corner there is a bird and some foliage. Altogether it is a clever idea which is worth knowing, for it could be carried out in many waj^s without the meaning of the decoration being lost sight of.

Many of the fashionable tea-cloths are now made of pale-colored sheeting, bordered with a frill of deep cream or coffee-colored lace, or with festoons of fancy Madras muslin with colored flowers, caught up with silk pompons matching in colors. Violin, guitar, and banjo blankets are now popular for gift or purchase, as these instruments are now much played by girls and women. Satin, plush, and cloth are the favorite materials. Crush bags for holding cloakB and wraps worn at evening parties are made of colored serge, with a spray of flowers or very large monogram worked on one side. Oolored silk handkerchiefs, edged all round with lace, with a draw-string run round just to escape the corners, make excellent work bags, with a pompon at each corner, and at each end of the drawstring a little silk pag of scent is tacked inside.

Artistic Dressing

Information comes from a celebrated modiBte that lace dresses of every description will be more than ever the vogue the coming summer. For those who fancy the style will be Mother Hubbard dresses all of black lace over Burah either of black or in gray colored foundations. These dresses, in white or black lace, it isuaid, are not to be made of piece lace, but of that about eight or ten inches deep, laid row upon row, kilted or slightly gathered, as is preferred. Besides the Hubbard dresses will be those with lace ruffled skirts and pointed bodices of Bilk veiled with net of a pattern matching the design of the lace ruffles and Oriental net and lace will lead in popularity. Round wastes will also be inbigh favor here, and belt* and long ends of satin ribbon will add their always graceful and pretty finish to these. Foundation silks and satins of light quality, plain or figured, and in every conceivable shade of color, can now be bought for from fifty to eightv-five cents a yard, thus making the ideal lace dress, once such a rare luxury, an easy possibility to young ladies who aspire to this exquisite toilet.

Feather fans still maintain their -v-hold on public favor. The latest styles J' in the Viennese feather fanB show £4gmosiac-like desians formed of small, -f ^brilliant-coloifcd athers against back--:grounds of full fluffy cream white or fedark green feathers of marabout.

Tinted ostrich feather fans of large oval shape continue fashionable for evening dress use, and fans of creamwhite satin, richly embroidered or painted with gold sticks, and finished

wy nw

AND SOCIETY.

Marriage and Luxury.

S0NGLB8S.

George B. Mifflin, In Philadelphia. Fnu.

friend, in town for only two or three days, has too little time at her disposal to adhere to the orthodox calling hours, or when a lady calls on a matter of importance but such occasions are rare and do not affect the general rule.

Ine orthodox hours for calling are from 3 to 6 in the winter and 8 to 5:30 in summer cards may, of course, be left later. It is not correct to call before 3, for moat people lunch between 1 and 2 o'clock, if there have been any visitors the meal is only just over, and it is annoying to a hostess to be summoned from table by the announce ment that a too early guest is in the drawing-room. It is only intimate friends who call after 6 in the winter or 6:30 in summer, but there is a wide margin left for acquaintances, even if the hostess has not a special day when every one may be sure of finding her.

It is a great mistake to imagine, as some ladieB seem to do, that they may take in any friend with whom thev are driving on a lady's at "home day.' It is quite as great a liberty as if they took her to a party to which she was not invited. Ordinary visits last from ten minutes to a quarter of an hour. It is usual, however, •when a second visitor arrives for the first to take her leave unless she has only just arrived, or unless she is well acquainted with the newcomer. No exact rules can ever be given in such a case. Individual tact must decide as to what is to be done in a number of instances. This is particularly the case in the matter of introductions. Speaking broadly, it is more usual not to introduce morning visitors to each other, trusting to their tavoir aire to talk generally, when the deBired object is attained. But sometimes introduction is desirable, and this must bo left entirely to the tact and judgment of tho hostess.

The times of formal visiting are, generally, between tbd New York residents once during the winter season and once during the summer such visits, of course, not including cards left the day after any entertainment. In the country the same rule generally applies, twice a year being ample, excepting between intimate friends, when, of course, whether in town our country, there is no very strict etiquette. In the country when a visitor calls after 4, tea is generally rung for before she leaves, but in New york, unless a visitor comes when tea is there it is not sent for. Sometimes, if it is very near the time, the hostess say, "Won't yon wait for tea?" but no fuss is made about it. People pay so many visits in the afternoon, that they are tolerably certain to find tea somewhere if they wish for it. First visits should always be returned immediately, if possible within one week, but other visits may be returned after a fortnight or three weeks. It is not courteous in New York to allow a longer time to elapse In the country, of course, it iB different distances are great, and calls cannot always be made at the exact moment when they are due.—American Queen.

the top wfch gold lace, are carried at receptions and the opera. These are from the waist in chatelaine fashion.

Short Russian jackets of gay plaided fabrics in velvet, tweed, Tel-el-Kebir cloth, or cheviot, are very prevalent for young girls. These coats are very jaunty and comfortable, being thickly lined and finished in the back with a pointed hood faced with a dark satin in monochrome. Natural beaver or ''Grecian" lynx fur, in narrow bands, trims the edges, and with the jacket is worn a Bob Roy cap of the plaid, with a tiny fur-trimmtd muff and skate-bag to mstch.

Ladies who have a liking for hats worn over the forehead will be glad to learn that the old favorite, the English walking bat, is likely to be revived in the spring. The brim is about the ume as of old. rolling high and close on each side, but the crowns ti most of the new shapes are in the sloping Lingtrv style, or else are high and square.—New York Post.

A Kmall Parlor.

Decorator and Furnisher. A decorative treatment of a small parlor or music-room wouM be by paneling the lower portion of the walls with a deal dado, delicately painted in yellowish pink or blue, and covering the general wall surface with a golden toned paper, arranged in panels to suit the proportion of the room, with tainted and stencil arabesque patterns on the dividing spaces the frieze treated with good figure or ornamental enrichment of canvas-plaster or papermacbe in low relief, painted white, with a groundwork of reddish gold or Bartolozzi engrabing tint. The floor might have a border of light ebony and maple or boxwood parquet, w.th alowconed Persian carpet, in the ceuter, with easy lounges or divans all around the room for rest and comfort, the center space being left clear of furniture, so as to allow ample room for guests passing through to other rooms, or to congregate while listening to song or music. C,

M. ,t-r/

Raised Worsted Work -,* Take a stiff hairpin, bend the wires near or far apart, according to how large you want a leaf, wind the worsted around the wires, the threads close continuing until you have it as long as you want a single leaf or part of a flower. .Lay this on your cloth, or whatever you wish to put your work on, and sew through the middle, catching down each thread or worsted. Pull out the hairpin and you have a plain leaf, or cut in the middle of each loop on both sides, pick out until all stands up round and trim with the scissors, md you have a different shaped leaf. For a rosebud wind shaded worsted, the light at one end and the dark at the other over this wind green, a few threads over the lif ht, and thicker over the dark, and you have a shaded bud with calyx outside. Vary shading and siae according to taste.

Women in Pnblie Affairs.

Sophie Menter, the celebrated pianist, has been elected honorary member of the Philharmonic Society of London, in place of Wagner, '"the first time," Citoyenne says, "this honor has been accorded to a woman."

Mrs. Abigail Scott Duniway was named as a candidate for governor of Washington territory, and a petition to that effect sent to congress. But Mrs. Duniway promptly put a stop to the whole proceeding by declaring that she would not relinquish her post of duty to help to secure suffrage for the women of Oregon for any other.

On every hand are proofs of growing respect for the equal political rights of women. On the 16th inst. the house, at Victoria, British Columbia, passed a measure giving women the right to vote for school trustees. A married woman, whose husband is a voter, may also vote. This covers the case of women whose husbands are naturalized.

The city council of Toronto has decided by a majority of three-fourths to petition the legislature in favor of granting municipal and parliamentary franchise to women. Local boards in England, which correspond to our municipal governments, I ave in several instances petitioned in favor of the parliamentary franchise for women who possess the qualification to vote on municipal questions. The extension of suffrage to include women is understood to be one of the first measures to come before parliament. In this country the activity and interest are constantly on the increase. Just now in Massachusetts the "remonstrants" are aiding the movement, as their action induces people who have not thought about the subject to give attention to it, and that is mainly what is needed.

Woman's Journal: Mrs. Mary Clement Leavitt, of Boston, has recently been appointed the superintendent of the National Women's Christian Temperance Union work oa the Pacific coast, in California, Oregon, Washington territory and Nevada. This will hold her there till ne*t October. Her address will be box 2,647 P. 0., San Francisco. Since Mrs. Ltavilt eatue to California she has prepared a comprehensive address on the woman question, entitled, "The Ballot for Woman Just, Expedient and Scriptural." She gave it first at Los Angeles, afterwards at San Francisco and Sacramento. She war particularly requested to repeat it at Modesto and other places. It always makes converts. In San Francisco one gentleman unwillingly consented to go with his wife to hear the lecture if she would sit in the last seats so he could slip out if he did not like it, for "he did not believe in the thing at all?" tie did not slip out, however, but told his wife on the way home that he was converted and sho aid work for the cause. Woman suffrage is gaining ground everywhere on the Pacific coast.

The following circular letter has been issued by Chairman May Sewell, of the National Woman Sufirage Association The call for the sixteenth annual Washington convention of the National Woman Suffrage Association indicate that the work contemplated by this society will demand a large expenditure of money. Therefore, members of this association are asked to renew their membership by sending the annual fee ($1) to the treasurer and friends who can not aid in this work by their presence at the capital, oi by participating in aggressive work, and solicited to contribute to its success by generous donations of money. Money from any source will not only be acknowledged by a receipt from the treasurer but a report of the proceedings of the convention will be duly forwarded to all members and to all who contribute to the success of this important work Dues and donations should be sent to Mrs. Jane H. Spofford, treasurer of the National Woman Suffrage Association, Riggs House, Washington, D. C. If friends of the movement will respond to this appeal before March 1 they will confer a double favor.

Female Freaks and Fancies.

It is evident that the author of "The Bread Winners" is not a woman. The secret has been too well kept.

Susie Bates, of Clinton, Maine, is 12 years old, and weighs 18? pounds. The girl who Bates that has not been heard from.

Anew London wrap, christened after Mary Anderson, is a jacket of sealskin, opening zouave fashion over a vest of undyed seal.

Mrs. Jane Grey Swisshelm writes to the Chicago Herald that the "comboberification" raised about Fred Douglass' marriage is absurd. Jane is right.

A Kentucky woman has used tobacco for a century. She feels like hiring somebody to kick her, when she reflects how much older she might have been if she had never touched the stuff.

Mrs. Stackpole, of Dannemora, N. Y,, wrote to an old admirer that when she became the Widow Stackpole she

would like to have him call on her. Stackpole got the letter and left town for good. "Husband, it is raining, and you haven't an umbrella I'm so afraid my new bonnet will get wet." whispered she to him in church. The husband looked grave a moment, as though he could not think of such subjects during the delivery of a sermon, and then turned to his wife and observed: "The rain won't hurt it—you know the milliner said it was* 'duck of a bonnet.'" And she placed her handkerchief to her face and bowed her head as if in prayer.

A widower with five children, of Middletown, Orange county, wooed and won a nineteen year old girl of the town. The marriage ceremony was to have taken place one day recently. The feast was prepared, and the bride's trunks packed for a long journey. An elaborate home had been prepared by the aged groom. At the last moment the bride was missing Search was made, and the beautiful girl was found in an upper chamber. At the twelfth hour she had repented, and was engaged in tearing her wedding robes from her. The bride's ac 'ion created a sensation. The despondent adorer tore his gray hairs and swore vengeance. The assembled quests, however, made the best of the matter, and sat down to the wedding feast

Washington letter: A young lady, high in society here, said to me an evening or so ago: "Dear me, Lent will be here shortly, and, for one, I am not sorry. The demands upon those who attend receptions, teas, parties, dinners and germane are so great that a season of rest is all the sweeter, because the contract is so striking. Then our German club will begin to play 'commerce.' Of course, you understand the game?" Upon being told that I never had the pleasure of participating in such an amusement, she looked nervously about for a moment, and then whispered in my ear, '"Commerce is a new name for 'whisky poker,' but we don't play for money, that would be dreadful. We have nice favors, and we play for them, and it's real exciting."

SAFE FOR THE NIGHT.

Wealth of Drunken Prisoners—Stories of a Little Iron Box at the Harrison Street Police Station—Money and Jewels That

Have Been Stored In Its Shelves. Chicago Ne'ws.

A little Bquare iron box, bound with bands of brass, and with a key-hole several sizes larger than the dimensions of the chest would seem to warrant, stands on a substantial, ironbraced shelf at the Harrison street police station. But that little old-fash-ioned safe has held a vast amount of money in its day. It was bought shortly after the big fire, when the city's finances were in a demoralized condition. It has been said on the quiet that the old safe was found by a policeman half buried in the ruins of a large building, and that it was dug up and pressed into service. "Yes," said Sergt. Backus, leaning back in his chair and surveying the old iron box "there's'been a lot of money in that old safe. I s'pose there muBt have been nearly half a million dollars in that little old box." "Wnat was the largest Bum it ever contained was asked. "Well, one night there was $15,000 in that box, and the owners were down stairs sleeping on cell benches. One was a cattle man from out west. He was found by an officer standing in a saloon waving a wad of bills nearly as large as yournead. The officer saw at once that he was too drunk to take care of himself, and so brought him in for safe keeping. He had $11,000 in greenbacks on his person when we searched him. We put the fellow down stairs and the officer went out on bis beat again. I sorted all the money, entered it on the book, and chucked it in the old safe. Then I fell to musing about all that money and wandering if a fellow who carried it around loose like that knew what it was really worth, when in walked the same officer with another prisoner." "It's raining money to-night, sergeant," he said. "Here's another sucker with a big roll. I dropped in to Big Mike's just as the gang was getting ready* to rush the boodle.' "How much has he got?" I asked. "Don't know. But we'll fish and soon find out." said the officer and then he began pulling money out of that fellow's pockets until he had a pile lying all over the desk. Well, Bir, there were $4,000 there and a few dollars over in silver. I chucked it into the safe, and the man was taken down stairs. He was a miner, just in from Dead wood, and he was tbe happiest man next morning you ever saw. The judge fined him $10 for being drunk, and when he paid the fine he wanted to leave a gold eagle for the officer, but the lieutenant wouldn't allow it." "But that was an exceptionally big night for the safe, wasn't it?" asked the reporter. "Oh, yes. But the money comes in steady every night. Sometimes we have $500 in the safe, and sometimes only $100. Every now ftnd then it jumps, and everybody brought in seems to have lots of money. There's been enough Jewelry in that safe to start a jewelry store—watches, and bracelets, and chains and such. There's been diamonds in there, too. Every time old Fan Wright is arrested she's mighty particular to have all her diamonds locked up in the safe, and she never forgets to call for them next morning after court."

The outer door slammed and an officer entered with an inebriated individual. The prisoner was evidently a clerk of some description. "Another deposit, said the sergeant, throwing open the doors of the little safe. "What's your name? Tom Collins I Well, I guess that's as good as any name. You've got about $4.50 and a knife."

The officer felt in the prisoner pockets, and fished out a couple of greenbacks, some silver and a knife. "One, and two are three, and one is four. Ten, and a quarter with a hole in it is thirty, hallo I here's a half a dollar that brings it above my guess, but I came pretty close. Its Saturday night, you see, and he's spent about $5 getting drunk. That's the limit for ducks of this stripe. Take him down stairs. "All right," said the sargeant "Go down stairs. No use of searching him. But, by the way, I once searched a fellow who came in for lodging, and found $120 in gold in a bag tied to a belt around his waist. Lots of people come here, strangers in the city, and ask for lodgings, but they always mention it when they have money, and leave it in the little old safe."

Thin, Wiry Men the Bravest. Commercial Advertiser. History no doubt gives color to the idea that fat men are not, as a rule, brave. Falstaff was a fat man he was a conspicuous coward. Maj. Monsoon was likewise corpulent his gallantry lay in the direction of chickens. There have been brave fat men of course witness Pickwick—as courageous a gentleman as ever faced a widow. The heroes of the world have, however, undoubtedly been wiry men, not necesssarily scarecrows, but men .vithout an unusual oT unwieldy proportion of adipose tissue. Had the living skeleton, now being sued by his recently made bride, been a fat man, he would undoubtedly have wilted, and permitted himself, perhaps, to be carried off in a clothee-baaket. Being a skeleton, he is a man of valor, and no bride of a day shall trifle with his emaciated affections.* Anotomically speaking, the skeleton man is all grit. He proposes to fight it out to the bitter end if he has to pawn his bones to pay cotfflael fees.

London's population is 3,814,671, and that of Paris 1,988,806. These are the largest cities in the wflWd of which we have any safe data.

BAINBRIDGE & SON.

Chicago Inter Ocean. There was a suppressed murmur of conversation in the dressmaking department of the large drapery establishment of Messrs. Bainbridge & Son which the steady whir of a hundred sewing machines could not wholly drown. Where the presence feminine can be found, be sure the tongue feminine will be heard.

The superintendent of the room, understanding this, did not attempt to enforce silence,

pretty Dolly Wynn

and May Bruton talked very confidentially in their corner of the great room, and no one interfered

long as fingers

were busy as well as tongues. And this was what May said, Dollie's blue eyes being riveted upon the quilting on which she was at work. "I saw her yesterday when I was going out to dinner. She was just stepping into her carriage, and Mr. Edgar himself handing her in. She looks old—nearly 40,1 should say but they say she is immensely rich, and her dress was splendid. So I suppose her money goes against Her age." "Did you hear they were to be married soon "Bless me! didn't I tell you that? My brother is in the stationer's where the wedding cards are being printed. They are to be married on the 27th. Mr. and Mrs. Edgar Bainbridge, and the card of the bride's mother, Mrs. William Wilson. Twelve 1 Come, we will go for a walk." "No, I am tired." Dollie pleaded.

And her friend left her, never heeding the sudden pallor of the sweet young face, the dumb agony in the great blue eyes.

When she was alone Dolly stole away to the little room where'the cloaks, shawls and hats of the girls were kept, and there, crouching in a corner, hidden entirely by the huge waterproof, she tried to think it all out.

What had it meant? What did Edgar Bainbridge mean in the long year he had tried by every masculine device to win her love?

She had not been unmaidenly heart and conscience fully acquitted her.

She had given her love, pure, true, and faithful, to the son of her employer but he had sought it, delicately and persistently, before he knew that it was given.

The young girl, now sewing for a living, had been daintly bred and thoroughly educated, her father having been a man drawing a salary sufficient to give his only child every advantage. But when he died, and his wife in a few months followed him, Dollie had chosen a life of honorable labor in preference to one of idle depence upon wealthy relatives.

And yet in the social gatherings of these relatives and the friends of former days, Dollie was still a welcome guest.

It was at her Uncle Lawrence's suburbon villa she had been introduced to Edgar Bainbridge. After this she met him frequently, and in her simple dress, with her sweet pure face, had won marked attention from him.

With the frankness that was one of her greatest charms the young girl had let her admirer know that, though she was Lawrence Winn's niece, she worked for a living in the dressmaking department of Bainbridge & Son.

Then he had made ner heart bound with sudden, grateful joy by telling her he had seen her leave the "shop" night after night, but would not join her for fear of giving annoyance by exposing her to the remarks of her companions.

After this, however, she often found him waiting for her at some point further from the establishment, and always so respectful and courteous that she was glad of his protection in her long walk.

But he was going to marry an heiress on the 27th. only a week away, so he had but trifled with her after all.

Poor little Dollie, crouching among the shawls and cloaks, felt as if all sunshine was gone from ber life forever, as if her cup of humilation and agony was full to overflowing.

But the dinner hour was over, the girls coming in or sauntering from resting places in the work-room, and the hum of work commenced again, as it must, whatever aching hearts or weary hands crave rest.

Dollie worked with the rest, her feelings

numbed by the sudden

blow that she scarcely heard May's lamentations over a sudden flood .of order-work that would keep many of them in the room till midnight. "We'll have all the day, to-morrow, if we can finish theBe dresses, to-night,' said one of the small squad of girls told off for the extra work. "Miss Brown says so. But these must be 'ready to deliver in the morning."

Talk, talk, talk! Whir, whir, whir! Dollie folded and basted, worked with rapid mechanical precision, hearing the noises of voices and machines, feeling the dull, heavy beating of her own heart and the throbs of pain in her weary head, but speaking no wofd of repining, excusing her palid face by tbe plea of headache.

It was after 11 o'clock when the last stitch was set in the hurried work and the girls ran down the long flight of stairs to plod home through aflrizzling rain, following the late snowstorm.

As Dollie passed down the staircase she saw in the counting-house her recreant lover, busy over some account books.

But for the heavy news she had heard that morning she would have felt sure that this sudden spasm of industry was to furnish an excuse for escorting" her home at the unusually late hour.

But, if so, Dollie felt it was but an added insult to his dishonorable conduct, and she hurred on, hoping he had not heard her step.

She had gone

Bome

few streets from

the shop, when, passing a church, she slipped upon a treacherous piece of ice and twisted her ankle.

The sudden pain made her faint for a moment and she sat down upon the stonework supporting the railings to recover herself. Beside her, not a stone's throw away, a dark, narrow alleyway ran along the high brick wall of the churchyard, and the girl's heart sank with a chill of terror as she heard amtm's voice in the alley say: "Didn't you hear a step, Bill "A woman. Sh^S turned off somewhere. He ain't come yet," was the answer. "He's late to-night," said the voice, in a gruff undertone. "You are sure he's taking the diamonds home?" "Sure as death. I was at—'s when he gave the order. 'Send them to my shop at 9 o'clock,' says he, 'and I will take them home with me.' And he gave the address of Bainbridge &Son." "Butare you sure he will pass here?" "Of course he will. He lives in the next street. He'll come. "Suppose he Bhows fight?" "You hold him, and I'll soon stop his fight"

Every word fell on Dollie's ears clear and distinct in the silenoe of ths night.

They would rob him, these dreadful men, if nobody warned him. They would spring out upon him as he passed, and strike him down before he knew there was danger.

He must not come alone, unprepared. False lover, false friend as she felt he was, she could not fo on her way and leave him to death.^

When she stood up the pun in- her ankle was almost unendurable but she clung to the railing and so limped along one street. The others seemed interminable.

Often she crawled through the wet alush of the streets often on one foot hopped painfully sdong, till the shop was reached at last, and the light in the counting"house still burned.

Tbe side door for the working-girls was still unfastened, and Dollie entered there, reaching the countinghouse soaking wet, white and trembling, to confront Both Edgar Bainbridge and hia father.

Unheeding their exclamations of dismay and surprise, she told her

THE TERRB HAtJTE IMPRESS. SUNDAY MORJfBf0, FE»RTJARY 17,1884,

story with white lips but a steady voire. "Waiting for me?" cried Edgar Bainbridge. "'The scoundrels!" "You bought diamonds at 's today asked his father. "A parure for Miss Wilson, sir. I wish to present them, with your permission, on Thursday. Ah, look at that poor girl!"

For, overcome by pain, fatigue, and mental torture, poor Dollie had staggered toward the door and fainted upon the floor.

A hasty call summoned the porter, and in a few minutes the porters wife appeared, rubbing her eyes, but full of womanly resources for the comfort of the girl.

A cab was procured, and clothed in dry garments, furnished by the goodhearted woman, and, escorted by the porter, Dollie was driven home.

The next morning walking proved to be impossible, and Dollie was obliged to call upon her landlady for assistance to dress, wondering at herself a little for caring to get up.

But before noon, sitting in the parlor, her ankle upon a cushion, she was surprised by two gentlemen callers— no other than Bainbridge and son in person—and a- lady who introduced herself as Miss Wilson. "We have all come to thank you," the lady said, "and I have come to carry you home with me. These gentlemen owe you their lives I owe you my diamonds." "But what did you do?" asked Dollie. "We captured the robbers by a masterly stratagem," said the old gentleman. "Edgar sauntered past the alley way with a revolver all ready in his hand, while I, with three policemen, entered the alley softly behind the villains. Taken by surprise, their retreat cut off, they were easily made prisoners. You understand, we could not arrest them unless they actually attacked Edgar. As it however, there was a very pretty little tustle before we came up. Bless me dear child—don't faint—he's all right!' "My foot!" Dollie murmured, "1 sprained my ankle last night. It was to Btop to rest it that I Bat down on the church wall." "You didn't come all the way back with a sprained ankle?" »Yes, eir." "You are a heroine!" cried Miss Wilson. "But, my dear," and here the heiress drew nearer to Dollie and took her hand in a close clasp, "we have been hearing this morning pretty little love Btory, of which you are alBO the heroine, and I have come to see if you will be my guest until Thursday, and then make poor Edgar the happiest of men by assisting at double wedding."

Dollie's eyes, slowly dilating as the other lady spoke, were open to their fullest extent as this tlimax was rdftchcd* "Edgai 1" she said, "I thought he was to marry you on Thursday

A musical laugh answered her. Calling the gentlemen at the same time from the window, where they had sauntered during this little scene Miss Wilson looked at them. •'Convince this young lady, Edgar," she said, "that j'onr affection for me is only that of a dutiful son, and that I shall have a mothdrly affection for her likewise when I become the wife of your father, Edgar Bainbridge, senior."

And then Edgar took the chair his step-mfther-elect vacated, while the elder lady and gentleman went outeide to arrange a cushion the carriage for the sprained ankle.

What Edgar said may be imagined. but certain it is that Dollie drove home with Miss Wilson, and was that lady's guest until the following Thursday, when her wedding cards, too, were distributed, and the bridal party consisted of two fair blushing brideB.

The daily papers, in noticing the wedding stated that the superb parure of diamonds worn by Mrs. Edgar Bainbridge, Jr., was a wedding resent from Mrs. Bainbridge, Sr.

r*.

SHARON'S NEMESIS.

The Bold Millionaire's Trouble With tbe Ancient Miss Hill. San Francisco Letter in St. Louis Globe-Democrat: It is now more than two months since the lid of the Sharon scandal was first raised. Prolific as this city has been within the last year in family scandals, involving the rupture of the most of the ten commandments, the suit of the woman who claims to be the wife of the ex-Senator from Nevada has some unique features which entitle, it to more than passing mention. At the outset it looked as though there might be something in the woman's story backed as it was by a written agreement of marriage and enforced by the host of witnesses whom the plaintiff declared she would summon to her aid. The notoriously bad character of the senator also helped her preten sions and gave her the sympathy of the public. But the fatal mistake was in engaging a bully about town, one Neilson, as her confidential adviser and legal "next friend." The importation of such a man into the best case in the world would have damned it out of hand in the estimation of the public. When to this was added the cheap device of a story of attempted assault to murder on the bully, the last element which gave any dignity to the case was swept away, and henceforth it has been regarded by the public as a legal comedy in which the two cktef lawyers are playing star engagements.

The aim ot the defense has been to show that the marriage contract is a forgery, and that every one who has conie to the assistance of Miss Hill is an adventurer without character. In this they have been pretty successful, as the plaintiff has certainly had an unusually "shady" lot of witnesses. Several have been found figuring under a half-dozen aliases one was imported from Oregon and had a dubious record all were left in a demoralized condition after they had passed through the hands of Colonel Barnes, Sharon's attorney. On the other hand, the Senator's witnesses haven't been above reproach. One who was brought from Portland, Or., to testify to his amours with the fair plaintiff, made a bad record in court, taking back the second day the greater part of what he had testified to the first. He swore that he was engaged to Miss Hill at the very time she alleges' the marriage contract with 8haron was drawn up but his character as a professional "masher," as well as the fact that he owed Miss Hill money, which he said he stole from her, tended to destroy any small confidence that might have been placed in his lively story, which was given with an air that would have done credit to the stage. He was succeeded by an ancient ex-Methodist, preacher, who is now giving in installments what he knows about the case. His cloth did not save him from very unceremonious handling bj the attorneys. The venerable dominie repelled insinuations more in sorrow than in anger. He was given a two-days' siege of it last week on the witness stand, one day remaining in court from o'clock until 4 without any rest or refreshment. The counsel relieved each other and came back redolent of peppermint, but the old man was badgered with questions throughout the day, and only towards night grew restive and asked plaintively to be allowed to go home to his

A singular phase of the case, and one which, despite the voluminous reports that have appeared in the local papers, has not seen the light, is the mature nature of the woman who by natural gallantry has been styled, the fair plaintiff. By any unprejudiced observer she would not be termed fair. 8he must be not less than 40 years old. with regular features, keen, dark eyes, showing mow's feet at the comers, and a determined mouth. What gives her an appearance of maturity is the loose skin which has settled in alight folds under her chin—a peculiarity that is unknown to youth. She bears herself well in court, dresses handsomely, and on one occasion showed that she was abundantly able to take care of heifflf.

too,

the tag all

looks

*$*??

GOING INTO THB ARMXV

Where the Jteeralta Come From—Stories Told by ss Old Recrnting Officer—A Schoolmaster Made Deipsrst* by

Jsslosi Wife—Desertlsa and Be-enlist-

inff.

OhleacoKews. "Strange stories comes to the ears recruiting officers now and then," said an ex-sergeant of the regular army, who was stationed at Chicago during several years to enlist soldiers for service on the plains. "Men who choose to go into exile for five years, if they are intelligent and educated, generally have queer reasons for desiring to adopt the life of a soldier." "But do men of that description ever ssk to enlist?" inquired a Daily News reporter.

I of

Occasionally they do. It is very seldom, of course, that one of them actually becomes a private soldier^ Many come into the recruiting office, talk matters over, and then decide that $13 a month and board is not enough to tempt them out among tbe Indians and buffalos." 'What are some of the stories which you have heard?" "The most amusing one was told by a little, thin, melancholy man who weighed about a hundred pounds. He was dressed in seedy black when he came and said he wanted to enlist. He said he waa a school teacher from some little town near Chicago, but that he thought it was his duty as an American to go and fight for his country. As his country was in no particular danger, I asked him why he considered it a matter of duty to join the army. He evaded the question by inquiring anxiously if he could take his wife along. I replied that it would be impossible to do so. His face lighted up instantly, and- he said, in great delight: "Then I'll be Si soldier at all hazards." 'But he proved to be an inch too short for army service. He grew desperate when he found it out, and declared he would run away and never go home again. He said he was afraid of his wife and could not face her with safety. She was so jealous of him, according to hiB story, that she attended his school every day in order to watch his conduct toward the girls who were his pupils. 'It was awful,' said the poor fellow, rubbing tears out of his eyes with hiB coat-sleeve, 'to see her sitting there on a bench glaring at me, when she ought to have been at home doing housework. How was I to get along without talking to the girls sometimes? And because I did talk to them didn' I catch it after I got home! got to be more than I could stand.

enlisted in

The Best Horse In England. Bell's Life.

found Bareudine occupying the box I had seen before tenanted by Bertram and Kingcraft, and in deference to the great value and repute of the illustrious new comer the interior had been newly padded. Close by,

___ was a new iron house for his groom to sleep in, as it was not deem' ed advisable that ^treasure worth 8,000 sovereigns should be any distance off stud groom's house without hava constant attendant. I had been tho morning looking over matured T^iii/wie, and after this a thoroughbred hone jnat out of training always

at hia worst. There is not the bloom of the trainer's art about him, and without the roundness that is brought about by high feeding, rest

and

idleness a horse looks all shades and angles. Thus a first look at Barealdine now suggests a jpreat, fine

young hunter in the raw, bnt the eye can quickly detect all the magnificent )Kints that, as a rule, make up all the great race horses.

A .very big horse is Barcaldine. He stands lfthandslf inches high,isagood hardy bay, with black legs, with an intelligent head, much finer and more characteristic of blood than he might have had from his Melbourne descent, and itis set on neatly to a long, powerful neck, which meets tremendous shoulders, not heavy, but wide, and the withers prominently high, with great depth behind the shoulders. A tall jockey must have looked well on him, while a short-legged little fellow could scarcely havespurred him in the right place. His hips area bit high, wide from one to the other, his loins being quite of a weight-carrying proportion, and his quarters are wide enough to fit hTm for a wagon horse, and long enough to please the most exacting in race-horse conformation. He had capped his hocks, but they were of a corresponding powerful order, and his fiat.leg, so big in bone, are all proportion. I have certainly never ked over a more powerful racehorse than Barcaldine, and I should doubt whether a m6re powerful one has ever been bred.

Quite an unbeaten certificate has Barcaldine. He won four times at a two-year-old, beating the best Ireland could produce. He won four times as a three-year-old, including the Baldoyle, Derby and two Queen's Plates. It is well known how his turf life was cut short as a four-year-old, but as a five-year-old he proved himself to be about the best horse of his time, as he beat Tristan twice, won the Orange cup at Ascot, and the Northumberland plate under nine stone ten pound. This makes twelve winning races without defeat, and there is no horse of the day that can show such a certificate.

"IT'S ALL RIGHT."

Yesterday she began abusing me before the whole Bchool. I determined to assert my authority. I called up two of the* biggest boys to help me, and then we three put her out and locked the door on her. I couldn't go home after doing that, of course, so I came to Chicago. If I can't be a soldier I'll turn pirate.' "He went off sobbing like one of his own schoolboys, and I never saw him again. Another time a handsome young fellow, with a fine, manly form, came into the office and wanted to enlist. He declined to tell anything about his history, but he appeared all right except that he was rather sullen, and so he was accepted and sworn in. Three days afterward he was taken to Jefferson barracks, and two weeks later I. learned that he had committed suicide there. He left a letter behind him which told us that he had murdered his sweetheart somewhere in Indiana two months before because he suspected that she was false to him. The remorse resulting from that crime was more than he could stand. Another fine-looking young man was accepted by the captain and the medical examiner, received the oath, and was about to be sent away to the barracks, when it was discovered that he was a hopeless lunatic who had escaped from an asylum. He was given in charge of a keeper without delay. "Where do most of the armyrecruitB come from?" "The majority of them are young Irishmen and Germans who have not been in this country very long. Many youths having a desire to fight Indians is a result of reading Btory papers, apply for places in the army. Nearly all of them are minors, and are not accepted. Men who have committed crimes and are trying to escape punishment frequently enlist as soldiers. Young fellows whose sweethearts have gone back on them are also quite numerous in the army. The strangest set of men who want co becomo soldiers consist of army deserts." "Why do they try to get back into tbe army?" "They get tired of shifting for themselves. They generally try to re-enlist at the approach of cold weather. In most rases the recruiting officers discover that they are deserters and promptly arrest them. The government pays a reward of $30 ahead for them. Sometimes the recruiting officers at Chicago make several hundred dollars a month by picking up runaway soldiers who want to get back into the ranks." "What is the chief cause of desertion from the army?" •'It is the manual labor that the soldiers have to do. When they enlist they have idea that their whole duties will consist of marching and drilling. When they find that they have to build forts, dig trenches, plow, and cut hay, it is an unpleasant surprise to them. A lacy soldier becomes dissatisfied, and then at the first opportunity he steals an Indian pony or a government horse and riaes away. Young soldiers often run away because they want to see their girls or their parents. Middle-aged men desert to join their wives ana families. Last year there were about 3,000 cases of desertion from the army. That is an enormous per cent, of all the United States soldiers." "Do recruiting officers practice any tricks in order to induce unwilling men to enlist?" "I never knew of such a thing. There is no reason for trickery. On the contrary they are required to be very careful to select only willing and suitable men. Every candidate for the army is submitted to a rigid medical examination, and if he is not perfectly Bound he is rejected." 'How many soldiers are Chicago every month?" "The number differs greatly in the various seasons of the year. 'The average number, I think, is about fifty men a month. More men enlist in the fall than at*any other season. There is no great call for soldiers at present. There are only about eight recruiting officers in the whole country. Occassonally they are closed for weeks at a time in order to shut off the supply of recruits."

THE Verdict Given by Six-Year-Old Girl an Savings Bank.

The Manchester, N. H., Union says: One morning this week a little girl, not more than six or seven years of age, opened the doors of the Merrimack savings bank on Elm street, and walked in. Her appearance and demeanor attracted the attention of the treasurer, ex-Gov. Smyth, who inquired the object of her visit. She replied that ehe wanted to see the bank. The kind-hearted governor, attracted by the childish simplicity of his interviewer, asked her to step behind the counter, and as she did so her wide-opened blue eyes wandered about the apartment in a calm scrutinx of the surroundings. When her little orbs rested upon the pile of shining coins of various denominations displayed upon the cashier's table, her face became a perfect panorama of expressions, viewed with interest and amusement by her gallant guide. She was permitted to step inside the vault to examine the huge locks and interior, and the_inner safe and its belongings, all of "Which she did with studious care and minuteness. All this time the bank officers looked on in minute surprise, puzzled to know the motive for this rigid examination, if any she possessed^ Suddenly she stopped, and looking up archly into the amused countenance •of the treasurer exclaimed: "Well, I believe it's all right." "What's all right?" queried the official. "Why, the bank is all right," she said, and then continued: "Mr. Bankman, my name is Amy Bell, and my papa put $6 into this savings bank for me yesterday, and I wanted to

Bee

what kind

of a place it was. IneveTwasina hanlr before." The gentleman assured her that the

"money"

we you rounc

was safe, and

after answering a few_ childiBh questions she departed, feeling satisfied in her young mind concerning the custody of her wealth. Gov._ Smyth and assistants enjoyed tbe episode hugely, and their invitation to the young visitor to call again was given with genu ine sincerity.

DRESSING A MAN.

The Modern Ramifications of Modern Male Attire. Talk about women taking time to dress and the multiplicity and intricacies of their costuming! Whatever civilization may have imposed upon them it is but a shadow of the modern ramification of the male attire. A Commercial Gazette reporter, whose cuticle absorbed the frigidity of a fourth-story back during the recent cold snap, found that his habiliments quite exhaused his arithmetic as well as his patience, lo the chattering accompaniment of his teeth he'made the following calculation: 2 socks. 1 drawers, 2 undershirts, 1 shirt, 2 sock supporters and a chest pad that completed shell No. 1. One coat, 1 pair of pants, 1 vest, 1 collar, 1 cravat, 1 pair suspenders, 2 cuffs shell No. 2. One coat, 1 bat, 1 handkerchief, fractional part of shell No. 8. Three studs, 2 sleeve buttons, 4 collar and cuffs buttons. That was the outfit, and it figured up 30 individual pieces of personal furniture, each necessitating a separate and distinct manipulation. In this manipulation were embraced 61 buttonholes and 61 buttons, 4 spring catches and 2 clasps, 57 finger blistering big, big D, incidents to his attire. Altogether 30 pieces of clothing and 67 manipulations, making a total of 97 separate attentions to which he has to devote his time. Give 15 seconds to each—which is not more thon a fair average—and there are 24 minutes

spent

you so. lead and go right off the other way, and cross our tracks many straight camp.' 'How do you do tnatr asked 'O, I can't tell you/ he replied. 'Great difference between me and white man.'"

Then I laugh at him. I take the

Beecher's double, the man who goes theatres and gets the Brooklyn pass's name in the papers, is John

Wyman. Their resemblance is Yery

Sinking.

THB QUEEN'S MEW BOOK.

Dedicated and Largely Devoted to tbe lost John B'OWD.—Her Tender Bolleltnde for His Sore Knee—How be Repulsed an Knterprisfug Reporter—A.

Collection of Kxtraets From a Poorly Kept Diary. London Speolal Cable.

Tbe Queen's new book was distributed to the press this morning. It consists of a disconnected diary from Aug. 21,1862, to September, 1882, with a long gap from October 1870, to the final date, covering the period of transition from the administration of Lord Beaconsfield to that of Mr. Gladstone. The entire book is devoted to domestic and family affairs political allusions are only incidental. The illustrations are numerous, and include portraits of the Queen and of the Princesses Eleanor, Louise and Beatrice. There is also a potrait of Grant, the Queen's body servant, and" one of John Brown. There are pictures, too, of the Queen's collie dogs, Sharp and Noble, And several views of scenes in the Highlands, from sketches by the Princess Beatrice. In the perface the royal authoress says

darling

in covering the person

according to the conventional usage. Add to this cravat tying, scarf pin insertion, fob chain adjustment and arranging the hair, washing, etc., and to dress a man occupies fully half of one hour.

T- —T

kise-rst

How an Indian Finds His Way Through the Woods. H. D. Thoreau, in the account of his excursion through the woods of Maine, tells the following of his Indian guide, Joe Foils: 'I asked him how he guided himself through the woods. 'O,' said he, 'I can tell many good ways.' When I pressed him further he answered: 'Sometimes I lookum side hill,' and he glanced toward a high hill or mountain on the eastern shore 'great difference between the north and south see where the sun shone most. So trees—the large limbs bend toward south. Sometimes I lookum locks' (rocks). I asked what he saw on the rocks he did not describe anything in particular, answering vaguely, in a mysterious or drawling tone. Bare locks on lake shore--great difference between N. S. E. W. sid&—can tell what the sun has shown on.' 'Suppose, said I, 'that I shoulcrHake you in a dark night up here into the middle of the woods, a hundred miles, set you down, and turn you round quickly twenty times, could you steer straight to Oldtown?' 'O, yes,'said he have done pretty much the same thing. I will tell you. Some years ago I met an did white hunter at Millinocket very food hunter. He said he could go anywhere in the woods. He wanted to hunt with me that day, so we start. We chase a moose all the forenoon, when kill Him- Then I said to him, now go straight to camp. Don't go and round where we've been, but go straight He said, I can't do that I don't know where I am. Where think camp I asked. He pointed

our the

Remembering the feeling with which "Life In the Highlands" was received, writer thinks the present volume may equally evoke sympathy, as, while describing a very altered life, it shows how her sad and suffering heart was soothed and cheered by the expressions and incidents it recounts, as well as by the simple mountaineers from whom she learned many lessons of resignation and faith In the quiet of the beautiful Highlands.

After the dedication to the "loyal Highlanders, and especially to the memory of the faithful attendant and friend, John Brown," the diary opens with the building of the memorial cairn in honor of the Prince Consort. Abovt this the Queen says:

We started off In a little pony ohair. led by Brown, Bertie (the Prince of Wales) In front, Eleanor and Louise on ponies, an the two little boys, Arthur and Leopold. I actually drove in the little carriage lo the very top of Craig Lowrigan, Grant and Duncan pushing tbe carriage behind. Bweet baby Beatrice we found at the top. The view was so line, the day was bright, the heather so beautifully

g[eresobntno

ink pleasure, no joy—all dead! at tbe top Is the foundation of the cairn to be erected to my precious Albert, land my poor six orphans all placed stones on It, and our Initials are to be placed on stones all round it.

Several succeeding entries in the diary describe other visits to the cairn, along with family records and remarks of the domestics. The following is an example of the latter

When near the cairn Grant said: "1 thought you would like to be here today." Bo entirely was he of the opinion that this beloved day, and even tne 14tb of December, the anniversary of his death, must not be looked upon as a day of mourning. There Is so mush good and strong faith in these simple people.

In October, 1863, when making an excursion from Balmoral to Clova, the carriage was overturned. The face and the right hand of the queen were bruised, and Brown's knees were badly hurt. Brown's injuries seem to have been the source of more solicitude to her majesty than her own, for she savs:

I was much distressed at breakfast to find that poor Brown's legs had been dreadfully cut at the back of the knees, and he said nothing about It. Bnt to-day one became so Inflamed and swelled so much he could hardly move. The doctors said he must keep It up as much as possible and walk very little, but did not forbid his going out with the carriage. 1 aid not go out in the morning.

The next day, October 12, she writes: Brown's leg is much better. The doctor thought he could walk over the hill to-morrow.

When making the first visit to Glassalt Shiel Mountain Lodge, in 1868, the diary describes the houBe-warming as follows:

Brown came to say that all the servants were ready. There were present Louise. Arthur, Jane, Lady Churchill, a number of domestics and the policemen, we made nineteen altogether. Five animated reels were danced, in which all but myself Joined. After the first reel whisky toddy was brought round for every one, and Brown begged I would drink to the fire-kindling. The merry, pretty little ball ended at 11, but the men went ousinging in the steward's room for some time, all very happy. But sad thoughts filled my heart, both before dinner and when we retired to rest. 1 theugbt of my

husband, whom 1 fancied I must

see. and who always wished to build here. Ttren the sad thought struck me that It was my first widow's bouse. But I am sure his blessing rests on it.

In 1871 the queen witnessed the Scotch communion service one Sunday at the Crathie church, near Balmoral. She writes:

The communion Is most touching and beautiful. It impressed and moved me more than I can express. It Is Impossible to say how deeply we were impressed by the grand simplicity of the service. It was all so truly earnest No description can do lustloe to the perfect devotion of the whole assemblage. I longed much to join It. To tfee all these simple, good people In their nice, plain dresses, Including an old woman in her mutch, so many of whom I knew, and some of whom had walked far, although they were in deep snow, was very striking. "Since 1873," the queen adds, "I have partaken of the communion at Crathie every autumn."

On October 3,1870, Princess Louise became engaged to the Marquis of Lome. The event took place, the queen says, during a walk from GlaBsalt Shiel to Dhu Lock, where Louise had gone with Lady Ely, the lord chancellor and Lorne.

Louise, on her return at night, told me Lorne had spoken of his devotion to her and had proposed to her. 8he had accepted, knowing I would approve. Though I was not unprepared for this result, I felt painfully the thought of losing hen But naturally I gave my consent, and could only pray that Bhe might be happy,

The sole reference to events in France in 1870 occurs in speaking of a sermon which she beard in the church at Balmoral:

Dr. Macleod gave such a splennld sermon on war. Without mentioning France, he said enough to make every one understand what be meant when he pointed out how God would punish wickedness and vanity and sensuality. The chapters be read from Isaiah, the xxvill., and from Eseklel and Amos and the Psalms were really quite wonderful for the way in which they seemed to desoribe France. It Was all admirable and heart-stlrrlng. Then »he prayers were beautiful. In which he spoke of the sick, of the dying, of the wounded on the battle-fleled, aud of my sons-in-law and daughters.

In June, 1879, the queen records the receipts of the news telling oi the death of the young Prince Imperial:

Brown knocked and came in. He said there was bad news. When I, in alarm, asked what, he replied: "The young French Prince is killed." I could not take It in, and asked several times what it meant. Beatrice then eame in with a telegram In her hand and said: "Oh, the ISnce Imperial Is killed!" I feel the thrill of horror now while I write the words. I put my band to my head and cried out: "'Not no! it cannot be true." Then dear Beatrioe, who cried very much, as I did, too, gave me the telegram. To die In such an awful, horrible way! Poor, dear Empress. Her only, only child, her all gone! I quite beside myself. Brown was so distressed. Every one was quite stunned. Little sleep did I get thinking of the poor Empress, who did not know it. The Prince was so good and so much beloved. To think of that dear vonngman, the apple of his mother's eye, born ancT nurtured in the purple, dying thus, is too fearful, too awful, and It Is Inexplicable and dreadful that the others should not have turned round and fought for him.

One section of the diary gives recollections of "my dear valued friend, Dr. Norman Macleod," Scotch chaplain to the Queen, who is so clever, so sgreeable, so kind and good."

Dr. Macleod Is greatly alarmed for the Established churoh of Scotland, as he

Presbyterians, "with the present Established church, would become one very strong Protestant body. I asked him ahout Lord Lorne, and he said he had a very high opinion of him.

During her excursions the queen's privacy was greatly troubled by reporters. When visiting Glencoe she writes:

The day was most beautiful and calm. I sat down on the grass for luncheon. Then I sketched. Here, however, here in this complete solitude, we were spied on by impudent, inquisitive reporters, who followed us everywhere. °?e in partljjular. who wrote for some Scotch paper, lay down and watched us with .a tefescope, dodced me and Beatrice when we were walking about, and was most Impertinent when Brown went to tell him to move, n.

wantaway

at last. Brown came back,

raying he thought there would have been SEhLfor whSn Brown said the Queen wi2i«S him to move away, he said he had STteas gooda ilghtto remain there as tVfa ooeen liad. Brown answered very

Mr that the highest gentleman of England would not do what he did, much 1MS a manly reporter. Other reporters came up and advised the man to come away quietly.

The concluding page is devoted to the death of John Brown. It contuns these sentences:

A~eirrtAU possessed my ai

His loss to me Is] incomparable, for he entire eonIIdevotedly, untiringly. Ta say that ha la dally—nay,

wrvad me truly,

untiringly. say that he Is

mo*

lifelong

CiftUtadfl he won by constant care ana trath,°n''• bn*a feeble expression of tbe

So far as its political interest is concerned, the book is throughout intensely disappointing. All tbe queen's remarks have a direct relation to personal emotions. Even in her all

UM. .HS

to tie for the safety of the Duke of Connaught. The diarv says: fes|

the Egyptian campaign and the hatof Tel-el-Kebir, her only thouui.t is

On the eve of the attack I prayed e»rnestly for my darllnit child.and longed for &^ the morrow to arrl ve.

The next day she gets a telegram aa-^pS nouncing ttie great victory, and re-^g •rting that the Duke was well and bad^'"S thaved admirably whereupon she Bays: gsfef

I felt unbounded joy and gratitude. Ii showed tbe telegram to Beatrice and em-"'"' braced her warmly, saying, what Joy and. .-A pride and cause for thankfulness we h»veS&^„ to know that oar darling is safe and so 1 much praised! I feel quite beside myself with joy and gratitude, though grieved to/^T. to think of onr losses. i.

CHIMNEY SWEEPS.

Their Business Dying Out—Fires Caused by Soot—Modern Appliances. Boston Globe. "My business isn't what it wa»," said Boston's oldest chimney-sweep to a Globe reporter, "but I still manage. to make a living out of it. I have

been

in the business nearly fifty years, and my father was in it before me,so I probably know as much about it aa anybody. Father used to go down chimbleys himself when he was a boy seventy or eighty rj years ago, but the custom of employing sweeps had nearly died out when I commenced business. When he used to go down most of the chimbleys were fourteen inches square, some of them fourteen by sixteen and then they got. to making them twelve inches square^ requiring a very small boy to sweep'them. They have been gradually re-, ducing their siae ever since, and now they won:t average more than a brick.' square (eight inches), and," he added with some bitterness, "architects do not know enough to know they are too small." "What kind of soot is most liable to catch fire?" "Well, there is no soot more dangerous than that made by cannel coal, what used to be called Liverpool coal Bome years ago. It makes a sort of oily soot, that catches much easier even than wood soot. The soot in least danger of catching fire is that made by hard coal but that catches easy enough: to cause a great many fires, and the custom of removing it onght to be more general than it is. Nothing stops up a chimney quicker than wood burned in an air-tight stove, with a sluggish draft. It makes a sort of creosote, hard and glased, like black paint. Biich is the worst kind of wood to burn, for it contains the most sap, and the sap in wood is what makes tne soot. I clean my chimneys now with a long-handled brisle brush—the h&ndle in sections—and I do it well, sir, without soiling a carpet or anything else."

Said another chimney sweep, sorrowfully: "My trade is about done with. I have been in it for nigh onter fortyfive year, and have see it slowly die away year after year, till now it's most nothin'. It's the small flues what done it. In course, it's kinder rough .on men in my trade, but there ain't no doubt Vbet small chimbleys is better fur sev'ral reasons then big uns. They's not nigh as liable to ketch afire as tig uns is terribly bad 'count er burglars. It's jest as easy fur a man what knows how to do it to go down a big chimbley

it is a pair er

stairs. The chimbleys iB so small nowadays that a boy couldn't get his head inter one, to say nothin' 'bout his body but they'd oughter be cleaned jest the Bame. More'n quarter the fires is caused by flames irom chimbleys, and them flames is caused by soot ketchin' fire. When people burn nothin' but wood they uster hev ther chimbleys scraped an' swept very of'en, pr'aps as of en as once a month but now they let soot gather in 'em fur yeara. Sence hightoned people tuk to usin' wood agin, an' some on 'em cannel coal, trade's been aleetle better but there ain't but one or two in the city thet makes a livin' outer it, the rest on 'em has ter do somethin' else besides. I clean chimbleys now with a steel wire brush consid'bly larger 'n the flue. It has a long, pliable Bteel handle to it, made in sections, an' will go anywhere, no matter how crooked the flue is. It stirs up the light soot, an' lets it fly out, an' the heaviest of it dropB down inter the fireplace, from where its took away without damage. It's better to sweep chimbleys when it's cold and windy, for the draft works better then. Some burn out their own chimbleys with a bundle of straw. That's well enough, if the wind's all right but if the wind blows down the chimbley it is liable to run the flame and soot down inter the room, an' cause a heap er damage."

The reporter next visited "Jim' Johnson, on Richmond street. 'Yes sah," he said "I was de last man to sweep a chimbley in Boston, shoah's yer born. De fust one I swep' was in Philadelphy, 'bont fifty year ago, an' de last one was in de Tremont House chimblev, in dis city, jist thirtynine years ago.'1 "was there much danger in entering a chimney?" "De danger was mostly from de smoke-jacks, what folks used ter do der cookin' on. Dey was built inter de fireplaces, stoppin' 'em up. Den we had to go up one chimbley, cross over and go down inter the chimbley with de jack in it, or Btart from de roof, go down to de jack, clean de chimbley an go out de way we come in. I used ter use a short-handle brush in one hand, an' scraper (like a small hoe) in de odder, When was small I could walk up a chimbley with my knees an elbows, using de brush an' scraper at de same time as easy as a fly kin walk on de ceilin'. I'd start from de fireplace an' take two sides a goin' up an' two comin' down, gettin' out 'caeionally, as much as two barrels er soot. I come nigh gittin' my head broke one time. I had a chimbley to elban, wid a cap to it, shaped like a tent, an' had jest pulled myself under de cap when it gave way an' fell on me, jammin me inter de chimbley. My boss come roun'arter awhile an' got me out all right, but it were a close case for die chicken, you hear me."

Iionic-Dlvided Brother*.

Hartford Times. Charles Burns, who has lived with his family in Thomaston for several years, had an interesting episode with stranger the other day. It happened thiBwise: The stranger called upon Mr. Burns and represented himself to be a life insurance' agent Mr. B. received him courteously aud listened to his arguments attentively for some time. The stranger grew more earnest and demonstrative in his manner for time but seeing he was going to be unable to secure his auditor as an application for life insurance, he suddenly toned down in s'yle and, looking Burns intently in the face for a moment, he said: "Methinks I have. seen yon before 1 Did you ever live in Walden, N.Y.?"

"Yes,"

er to test the other's recollection of him. Charles Burn's brother comesj^ggj from Iowa, where he owns a couple of farms. ft"'

The "fad" of spending the wint^f ie Mediterranean yachting is inc ing, and there are just now about W achts there cruising. Among.*- s. I

the

English "swells" who are enjoyir pleasant way of wintering are tl quis of Bute, the marquis of A,r earl of Caithness, Lord Lerd Askburton and Lord A

l:|

said Burns.

"Then 'tis he!" he cried, "my long lost brother!" This proved to be a fact. The brothers had not seen each other in twenty-seven years. The life insurance was a ruse adopted by

one

:L.

broth-

genu