Indiana State Sentinel, Volume 26, Number 36, Indianapolis, Marion County, 25 April 1877 — Page 1

Osv V VA vvvAy

VOL. XXVI, NO 36. INDIANAPOLIS, WEDNESDAY MOHNING, APHIL 25, WHOLE NO. 1901.

For the Sunday Sentinel.! THE PULPIT.

BT JUDGE HEID. Türe, sarred as the Ark of old. The pulpit stands a Pharos tower; Bright are Its rays as burnished gold, Yet soft they fall as summer's shower. High Is its task, and grand Its theme, A soul redeemed from Satan's thrall ; An endless llie, a glorious name For those who heed the priceless call. Before the sun was called to light, When Chaos reigned in empty space, . "When darkness Tailed the sllent'nlght, And Earth had found no path or place The great I Am In glory dwelt For, far beyond the starry sky, Where countless seraphs humbly knelt And worshipped at his throne on high. The Bible, book of God divine, Whose pages glow with primal man ; Whose Era marks the morn of Time, And shows creation's mighty plan. It paints the ocean rolling deep, And nature in its earliest form ; Wlille yet, as in a balmly sleep, In silence lay the thundering storm. The rise of empires, kingdoms, thrones, When man first claimed the regal state ; ' The fall of na tious, kings and crowns . Are found within this roll of fate. Mysterious, volume, book divine, Which warms the heart and fires the brain With thoughts so pure and'deeds sublime, And songs sweet as a silver strain. Yet rVarful is Its warning voice. As vailed in darkness, shade and gloom ; Whose Prophets bade the proud rejoice, Yet told th-im of their fatal doom. Like thunder hid within the cloud, 'Pound which the livid lightnings play, When wrapt as in a fiery shroud, Tlie heavens and earth shall pass away. IIow grand the theme, the hope how high, Announced by Prophets Seers of old. Of endless bliss beyond the sky, Of life immortal love untold! From Sinai's mount of fire and flame, IIow stern the law was there proclaimed But oh ! how sweet is Calvary's name, And His whose death our souls reclaimed. W ake, wake the harp with songs of praise, Such as was heard on Judah's plains, When angels sang their heavenly lays. And music swelled its highest strains. Oh tender as the evening's song! Once sung by Babel's wlllowed stream, When broken hearts the note prolong. And Zion's woes the plaintive theme. Pure, sacred as the Ark of old,! The Pulpit stands a Tharos bright, And from that Book of priceless gold. With rays divine Illumes the night. And thou the Herald sent by God, Proclaim with truth Ills holy word; Ami fearless stand with sandels shod. As one protected by the Lord. Bat what Is life? an empty dream! And death is but an endless sleep! Unless we trust this glorious theme, Unless its precepts try to keep. Be thou to me a polar star, To guide me o'er life's stormy wave, When Night assumes her ebon car, And darkness vails the silent grave. i "For the Sunday Sentinel. PERSONALS. BY MRS. 8 ALME A. RAM AO C. Three girlish voices were reading the "per.sonal" notices in the newspaper, laughing now and then at one couched In peculiar or humorous language, and pausing at sev era! with comments of "that's the kind, onie now let's answer that one," or' "that describes us exactly. They were all pupils of one of the ward schools, and were girls of respectable parents, and had had good home training. They were not "fast" nor vulgar. They were pure-minded and truth ful, but they loved- fun , and were not thoughtful enough as to the consequences of some of their ways of having a "good time." May Lindsay had selected one of the adver tisements to answer, and was just getting TAv tn write when Miss Allison, the teacher in tvt primary department, en tpro.l the room. and saw before the girls could conceal it the paper, and she recoenized at a dance what of its contents they had been reading. She usual It passed on immediately to her room, but abe hesitated and then took the seat proffered her bv the girls. She disliked to intro duce the subject, but she was too deeply In te rested in thee pupils to let the chance pass, and taking up the paper she carelessly glanced up and down the columns where were Drinted the "pergonals." She read - - M some of them aloud, but ere she could re monstrate Carrie Young said, "Now, MlsaAllison, please don't spoil our fun. Indeed that Is all we want We shall net sign our real names, and nobody will know who we are, and it will be such royal good sport to getthe answers. There will be no harm done. This one says that the writer is a young gentleman of refinement, and that be desires correspondents for mutual improve ment and fun. Now, don't tell on us," and the girls grew clamorous for promises Of silence. "My dear children, is it . possible tha. rott believe those words? Would not a refined,, cultivated young gentleman have other means of making acquaintances with Ladies than bra public newspaper? Does not the very wording of the advertisemen .ahow you that it is untrue? Why does he give only his initials if his purpose is a cor Tect one? No, no, you do not understand nd I am so anxious that you shall. Please do not get angry, Carrie; this is for your good. I know it" "Why, how do you Xpow it, Miss Allison? You are not acquainted with this person, arc you? Then bow are you so certain about bis motivesr The young teacher's face flushed scarlet, and her fingers trembled as they held the paper, and for ft moment she was silent, Then, as

f against her will, she said: "Girls. I will

do that which to me is very painful. I will tell you my experience in answering just such a notice as this, and if that is not sufficient to teach you a esson I can say no more. When I was seventeen I was away at boarding school, and was as fun-loving as any of you, perhaps more so, for my mother was an invalid and had no one but my father to watch and check me. lie was very strict, and when at home kept me out of mischief pretty well, and I was glad to get from under bis oversight, for there was little chance for me if he was in the house, but he was often away on business. I kept mother worried continually, and often she warned me against indulging my love of fun too far, but I laughed at her weak remonstrances. At school I was one of a circle of girls who were known as the hardest set to manage in the institution, not from wickedness, but mischievousness. I had never had a beau, in fact in age I was only a child, but I was tall and well formed for my years, and passed easily for eighteen. There was a boys' school close to ours and notes were continually passing between the two places, the servants, well bribed, carrying the letters that I confess were silly and foolish, but never anything worse. The girls all had their lovers among the students and whenever they could name an excuse strong enough to get away from the princi pal. met them and enjoyed strolls about town, parting from them in some remote street, to hurry back terrified at the fear of detection. With the memory of my father's lectures on the impropriety of such things I dared not go so far, but I answered two or three very much crumpled little notes writ ten on the margins of leaves torn from text books and tossed to me in Sunday-school, or brought by one of the servants. These were generally lines of such poetry as the student lover found in his parsing exercises or wrote down from memory, none, I believe, being original. I had two of , Itound is the ring without an end. So Is my love for you, my friend. And another Though many miles apart we be. My heart shall ever turn to thee. So you can imagine the style of my boy lovers. The dignified used Moore or Byron as their models, and gave us "Maid of Athens" or portions of "Lalla Rookh" ad in Jinitum. We quoted, in answering these ardent epistles, Mrs. Hemans and Miss Lander, underscoring and capitalizing to a painful ex tent Thus we broke the rules and wasted our time until just before vacation, when "personals" were inserted in the morning paper, and we were all in a flutter to answer some of them. Some of the older girls wrote first, and received degantly written and worded replies, many of the letters enclosing photographs and asking for them in exchange. After awhile I selected one asking for a correspondent who liked fun, and I answered it, trembling with every motion of my hand for fear father would find it out and then, laughing at the idea of him ever seeing the few silly words I had written, I signed only my baptismal name, imagining that too common to be a clue, for the mystery of the whole transaction was its only charm to me. In two days I had a reply; this I answered, and so the letters multiplied. I was young, Ignorant and easily fooled, and I believed every word that that man wrote to me. For awhile '.here was some fun in our notes, jests and rejtarUt, but soon they changed into real love letters, his breathing ardent devotion, mine to me maidenly coyness, doubtless to him affected simplicity. I would not consent to see him nor to send him my photograph, though he plead for both favors, but I could not go quite that far, though from my corresponding with him, an unknown stranger, he had a perfect right not only to ask but to expect me to do both. He told me of his prospects in life; he said he owned a fine farm and besought me to let him bring his carriage and horses and drive me out to see the place. lie told me he was fond of flowers and music and he hoped some day to offer me a home where I could have both, for he knew I was worthy of them. He praised my composition and writing and flattered my poor heart until I was.little better than an idiot Half the girls in school were as silly as I, for there were plenty of such advertisements every day, and every one in our class had answered one. Some had become personally acquainted with the young men, for a greater portion of the notices were written by the boys in the neighboring academy, and ethers by clerks in the stores where our set were all, known. My correspondent signed his letters "Fred," promising to give his entire name only when I would mine, and always protesting against my being so stubborn. He at length said that he intended to find out my address after I left school, and unless I told him my name and sent my picture, would visit me at my home. This frightened me nearly to death. I had seen my father when' he was angry, and knew just what I might expect If be ever discovered this correspondence. I had topped showing ' my letters to the other girls, and yet I would have given the world to have asked advice. I dared no! stop writing, for he had threatened to see me at home in vacation, and I disliked to send him my photograph and name, but at length decided to do the last But my worry had nearly made me sick, and I could neither study nor sleep, dreading every moment some fresh trouble, X never went out on the street but ' what I was afraid he would see and join me

and the teachers would hear of it and question me and write home. Oh! how I wished I had never written to him, and lowered myself to correspond thus with a stran

ger, but I had to answer every letter to keep him from coming to the school and asking to see me. He used the tenderest language, addressing me as if we were betrothed, and promising to bring me a ring when he could visit me in vacation, I never suspected he was aught but what he represented himself to be, and was miserable only for fear of my father, so easily was I de ceived by his words and promises, and I promised to meet him after the evening exercises the last day. Commencement day came, and brought visitors and friends. Father was proud of me, and made me -read my essay to bim, praising it with the kindest words. He told me what pleasure I was giving my mother and himself, and how they were repaid now for years of labor and selfrdenial. "You have never deceived me, thank God, Ruth, and I trust you as I do your mother, and that thought is dearer than your diplomas to me. I have had the old place nicely fixed for your home coming, and you shall not be sorry that you have done so well." I was cut to the heart an making some excuse, I left him and went : my room to have a cry. But I dared nc t even weep. Suppose he should want to know why I looked sad? This was enough. I pinched my cheeks to bring some blood to them, and with a show of gaiety went to the hall. Father sat in the audience watching me with a tender interest, holding the tiny bouquet of early buds mother had sent to be thrown to me in lieu of her presence. After awhile I noticed two young men come in at the door, then look over the stage as if hunting some one. One of them glanced at a card, then again at the rows of students, and at last the eyes of the party seemed to rest on me as the one for whom they were searching. They came up the aisle and sat down immediately before father. The room, the people, the flowers blended in one whirl as I saw oae of the men bow slightly to me, and then look at the photograph, for such I now saw the card was, and I felt rather than knew that this was Fred. In a passion of fear I read my essay, and the moment I was through I missed my father and the person who bad bowed to nie, and how I passed the long hour after this I have no idea. The moment we were dismissed father came to me, and said, "Ruth, I want you to go with me; I have I something to say to you." He took me to a private parlor at the hotel, and waited until I was calm enough to talk, then said, "Now, my daughter, you must tell me the truth; are these letters yours?" and he handed me a packet with every one of the notes, letters and poems I had sent to Fred. My picture was on the top of the lot. I dared not deny the palpable fact, and I whispered, "Yes, sir." "Do you love this man?" I could not reply, for I knew not what my father might have read of all those sentences penned in idle moments. "Answer me Ruth at once, yes or no." "No, sir." He clasped me so tightly in his arms that 1 could hardly breathe. "Oh God, I thank Thee for. this," and my father, the reserved, quief man I had known him, cried like a child. "Now, Ruth, I have one more duty, and that is the most painful. When this man sat down in front of me I heard him saying something about Ruth, and your name aif rested my attention. He held your picture where I could see it and I immediately reoognized it as yours. He told those other young men about his correspondence with, you, of your engagement to him and yomr proposed meeting, and then be ridiculed you, repeating your words and expressions. This much I can tell you; qf other remarks I can not except that he intended to force you into a sham marriage, and after that a life of horror. You are saved from disgrace, but only by Providence. He will never trouble you again, for I have attended to that, but I could not avoid the talk that will follow my flogging him, and making him leave this place. But 0 Ruth, why did you deceive me?" I went home not the bright happy girl my mother expected, but a woman with a weight of trouble and pain. I never heard from Fred . again but the gossips used my name , for months in connection with his. My poor parents suffered really more than I, if that were possible, but never upbraided me by word or look, but I have never felt the same, and it is seven years since I answered that "personal" and thus allowed myself to be come a party to such a transaction. Now, girls, will you be warned?" "Miss Allison please tell the other girls this," said Came, "for I know some who are going to write and maybe it will save them. as it has us, from the chance of getting into trouble. I never knew before there was any harm in such things." "Carrie, would you like for your father and mother to know about it?" "No, I would not" "Then you in a j be sure there is something wrong when you can not tell your parents." and with a good-by kiss for the pure young girls the teacher went on to her daily work, happy if her experience had done them any good, A theatrical newspaper in Boston recently told a story about Charlotte cusnman to me effect that on the occasion of her farewell aDnearance at Booth's theater she com pelled the managers to give her an extra $1,000 by threatening to be 111 on the appointed night Her nephew. Mr. E. C. Cushman, pronounces the story entirely false, and threatens to sue the journal which originated It

J 1ST FOR FIX.

Brown's Kollloqwy. The aggravating days have come, The worst of all the year. When I, in my once happy home, Know hardly where to steer. House cleaning time has come again ; Oood Lord, deliver us! For now comes on the dusty reign Of constant muss and fuss. The women folks are all as cross As any old she bear; And evt-ry one of them is boss; And all are in my hair. . , My wife Is In a fearful fluster, And makes a fearful din ; My daughters ail begin to bluster The moment I come in. Now chaos rules throughout the house, And dust on high RHcendeth; I have to keep as still as a mouse; And scolding never endeth. Mr books are in the coal box tossed. My hat in the clothes basket; My gloves are gone umbrella lost And cane no one to ask it. Furniture, carpets, rugs and clothes Are heaped up In the center; And oh! what flavors greet my nose Whene'er the house I enter. From boiling Boap-suds, frying feather, Cobwebs broiled and roasted. Devilled rag and scrambled leather, And ancient rubbers toasted ! I dare not say my soul's my own. Or hint that I'm a sinner, Or even give mv dog a bone, For fear it's all my dinner. A great claret drinker once refused grapes at desert, with the remark that he cared nothing about wine in pills. . Sprinkle, sprinkle little cart, how I wonder where thou aft Come and lay this fearful dust, ere our lungs fill up and bust Mo Irishman ever made a greater bull than the English lawyer who drew un an indictment chargtng that the prisoner killed a man with a certain wooden instrument called an iron pestle. A man made a bet f that he could ride a fly-wheel in a saw mill, and as his widow paid the bet she remarked, "William was a kind husband, but he did not know much about fly-wheels." Gentlemen who can't tell a polonaise from an apron front will bear in mind the prevailing distinction between a hat and a bonnet. Oneis worn over the ear and the other on the nape of the neck. A sad, sweet smile went wandering around a pious congregation in Chicago last Sunday morning when the good pastor, with tender and solemn intonation, read: "Do men gather thorps of grains or thigs of fistles?" It would seem that Miss Kate Claxton's experience should induce her to take out a tire insurance policy. Most actresses are content with attracting sparks, but this lady seems to be followed by flames. Boston Commercial Bulletin. They had a saucy prisoner up before the Paris police court the other dav. The pres ident, questioning him, paid: "Your name?" 1 descend from the Crusaders. "lour äpe?" "That of love and eternal youth." 'Your last residence?" 'Trobably the pot ter's field." We used a seidlitz box for a match safe in our kitchen. This morning we went there for a match and found a broken hinge, a metal knob, three screws, live sizes of nails, a knife blade, two corks, a spoonful of disabled tacks, a canceled tostage stamp, a recipe for muftins. and the part of a threecornered file. We got a light from the stove. Danbury News. A story is told of a shrewish Scotchwoman who tried to wean her husband from the public house by hiring her brother to act the 1art of a ghost and frighten John on his way tome, "Who are you," said theeuidman, as the apparition rose before him from behind the bush. "I am auld Nick," was the reply. "Come awa', man," said John, noth ing daunted; "gie s a shake of yaur band; I am married tae a sister o' yours." First Briton "HI sunnose vou've 'eard the news from Hanierica?" Second Briton "Hi caw n't says that hi 'ave. Hi don't take much hinterest in Hamexican affairs." F. B. "Well, the Hamericans, you know, 'ave 'ad what they called a republic. . Now, the 'ole thing is gone, hand they've put the government hunder a count" 8. B. "Hi'm not hastomshed at all. Hi knew that blawsted country would soon be haping hour hinstitutions." General Butler and Judge Hoar met as op posite counsel in action for damages for loss of life brought before the Massachusetts su preme court on exceptions last week. But ler cited from Job, "Yea, all that a roan hath will he give for his life." when Judge Hoar remarked that that was a plea of the devil in a motion for a new trial, and he didn't think that the court would be more impressed by it because of its modern indorsement. Mrs. Muggins "Well. Mrs. Gobbins. I was Just a goin' to whisper to yer that our Mary Hann 'ere is to be married Tuesday week." Mrs. G. "Lawks, now, an' I am right glad to hear it my dear, though you must expect a soight o trouble: and 1 do 'ope wot witn the railway accidents, sooicides, bydrophoby an things about, let alone as s nein peror even may 'ave the measles, bein' most dangerous to nupgrowns, that your 'usband u'll sub scribe reg lar to our Duriai society. iion don Fun. ALL HURTS. Walt Whitman has a low, sweet, distinct well modulated voice. One-half the mercantile houses of Jeffersonville, Ind., have failed within a year. George Francis Train knows himself. He savs: "I am as inconsistent as the weather. and never know my mind two minutes in succession." Leeches are not used as largely as they were some years ago. In 1855 the hospitals of Paris spent 90,000 francs in these blood letters. Now the annual cost Is not over 18,000 francs. Mrs. Victoria M. McCloekey, wbos father before the civil strife was called the cotton king of the south, has brought suit in the supreme court of New York to set aside lunacy proceedings brought against her by her children. The number of postal cards issued during the last fiscal vear was ldu.8i4.uuu. ana it is emected that issues for the current fiscal year will be about 10,000,000. The contract for the supply for the ensuing four years is expected to include at least l,w,ouo,uoo. The tisue will com when there will be an. arrangement which will enable us to do

scend from the highest building, taking the ontsido route, with moderate speed, calm dignity and more or less grace. The only fear is that by that time we shall all be dead. "Salutation Reform" societies are among the latest signs of progress in Germany. The members pledge themselves- to discontinue "the absurd- practice of doffing the

bat in saluting an aeauaintanre." Frank fort Mayence, Dillenburg, Ve13baden and Binegn on the Rhine, Lave each a society devoted to this important reform. Last vear Colonel Tourtelott of nnr&I Sherman's staff was in New Y'ork while Moody and Sankev were holdmcr one of their monster revivals, and rtersii&deri hv friends he went to it 'Imagine bis amazement when Mr. Moody, in giving out the hymn to be sung, said: "We will now oive Hold the Fort.' which will be oeeuliarW appropriate, as the hero of that fight in which our spiritual combat was figured is present among us. Colonel Tourtelotte, the uuciuuu wiiu me long iair oeara. The Washington Star reporter, in describ ing the reception of the grand duke by the president on Wednesdav. savs of the Rus sian minister: "He is not handsome, but he is graceful, and quite eracefullv he chaperoned his imperial charges. He wore the full court dress of his nation. The coat was a marvel of gilt and tinsel, but the pants well, thev looked like the yellow pair of nankeens that ex-Congressman Brooks used to wear, other than that they had a stripe of silver tinsel running down the outer seams." Jay Gould lives right among the fashion ables, but he never goes into "society." His name never appears on the list of officers of public meetings. He drives out but he is seldom recognized, for his face is not a familiar one. He is the power of Wall street yet is rarely seen there, all his business being transacted by telegraph. He never dissi pates, but he can take a glass of wine or smoke a good cigar with thorough satisfac tion. In appearance he is one of the plainest rich riien to be seen in New York. There are few residences in New York more tastefully or more richly furnished than his. It is in the center of the fashionable churches, but he is not a regular attendant jn any of them. In the fall of Edward S. Rand, the dis tinguished Boston lawyer, the best of all bus-' iness morals is again enforced. He enjoyed large and profitable practice, was a pillar of church and society, an authority on horticultural matters, but lived beyond his means. Other people's money, little by little, was appropriated to supply his own lack, and, breaking thus from the restraint of the cardinal virtue, honesty, he plunged naturally into the vortex of passion, engulfing marriage, home and business associations in one awful maelstrom of disgrace. He now repents at leisure, behind the bars of a prison, the first false step of a bright career. No man who lives beyond his means can be sure that he will come off more easily than Edward S. Rand. The other day M. Menier, the great Paris ian chocolate manufacturer, called on the manager and offered $400 for two songs to be sung by Mile. Albani at a ball h was about to give. 1 he manager rerused, as by the terms of ber contract Mile. Albanl'is not allowed to sing in any private house. "Besides," he remarked," she refused an offer of $S00 from the Baron de Rothschild for a similar performance only the other day." "Well, responded M. Menier, "I will double his offer. Tell Mile. Albani that I will pay her $1,000 for singing any two songs that she may select at my house next Friday night" Unfortunately, the terms of la diva's con tract prevented her from accepting this munificent offer. Lucy H. Hooper One day last week Trof. A. E. Macdonald lectured on "Chronic Mania" before the medical students of New York University, and brought from the city hofpital for the insane, of which he is medical superintendent some of the patients to illustrate his theme. One he had specially selected in or der to show the class that in subjects of chronic mania the hair is stiff and bristly; but, to his great astonishment, when he uncovered the patient's bead, the poor fellow's hair was just as sleek and smooth as his own. "W by. my man, ' he exclaimed, "what nave you been doing to your hair?' "Well, you see, doctor," was the reply, "they put too much butter on my bread this morning, and I thought it was a shame to waste it o I rubbed it in my hair." : Tn Paris hancinff is the niost nooular mode of suicide, and drowning comes -next; in London one is as iasnioname as me oiner, and throat-cutting, which is, seldom practiced in Paris, ranks third; In New York poisoning is the favorite form of selfmurder, and shooting is second choice, with banging, throat-cutting and drowning further down in the list A sensational form of suicide, verv common in France 'and very rare in England and America, isjumping from public buildings, ybarcoal burning is also a favorite mode of death in Paris. Dur ing 1870 there were 203 cases in London, 915 in Paris and 150 In sew York, ihe deathrate from suicide in proportion to population is double in New Y'ork to what it is in London. As every other person wno kins Mmcßlf in tri? ritv i of German narentspe. the high proportion of suicides is readily ex- ' . 1 - f .1 Y- 1 . I U piainea. une loing is nuucvauie; mncuvi th thre cities the proportion of deliberate v w r k snicides is steadily Increasing. The other day a bloated specimen or humanitv. who looked as if he were tasting the cup of bitterness to the dregs, staggered up to the luncn counter 01 a saioon on xwearnj street San Francisco, and begged for a plate of soup. "I'll give it to you,,r said the saloon man, "but vou rnusn't come bumming around here." The seedy person devoured the soup ravenously and then begged for some meat. "No: you've eaten yur soup, now get out" "Onlv a little bit" pleaded the man. "Well, here, take this," and he of the lunch counter banded ver a well polished ham bone. "Now get out of this, and don't you eonie in here again." With a wolfish look at the bottles behind the bar the man shuffled out Old ew Yorkers who used to crowd the Wymnir theater nip-ht after night to witness the then great sensation, "The Streets of New Y'ork," would not have recognized, had they seen him, in the person of this wreck of humanity John K. Mortimer, the great Badger of the play. Yet it was be. and as he walked out of the saloon with the bone under his arm he needed no additional properties to give with stirring effect the famous arret scene of the play. Poor Mortimer! . his dining off a bone has become a daily and sad reality.' 1 ' , ' . So many ladles are trying to be economical in their household expenses, and yet with the spring cleaning showing rents and age so plainly, they feel Sushatued of the old furniture and curtains, but hesitate before buying' new. For these sorely perplexed women we clip the following practical lugjeitiona;

TURKISH BATTLE SOXG.

IJp, wearers of ferses! Up, owners of turbans! lou dwellers in Hiamboul, you Per suburbans; Prepare to. take part in the battle's concussion Sy And walk, like red" thunderbolt, Into these Russians! Wave . high the standard the shirt of the prophet; At least, to speak properly, all that's left of it. Ko, your swords by your Bides and your hands on their handles, March out anil-demolish these raters of candles. Come from the mosque, eutting short genuflexion; Come from the- slave girls- awaiting inspection ; Come from the cofffce house, leave the tobacconist's; First put your pipes out and" then your antagonists! Come from the bathi where the grim grinning Scrapes off your skin at a very low figure ; Qait, now, the harem, its smiles ana its c cashAnd make up your minds to astonish these Rooshians! FAS lU ON- XOTES. Prepared for the Sunday Sentinel. Daisies vie with violets in popular favor. , Rich geranium red is- becoming to brunettes. Fringe and galloon are used h trimming dolmans. Dotted Kwiss, after its long-erle, is again fashionable. Sheer white India muslin or organdy make a becoming bridal dress. Torchon laces are seen on wrappers of percale, either of the same color or darker. Amber jewelry is much worn, imitations of the real being very pretty and) very cheap. Silver change soon ruins nice puses, and the Portemonnaies of steel scales are used instead. Sacoues are more stylish than ever before. Lace, in connection with fringe and bows, is much used as trimming. ' e Lace is need on everything from underwear to bats, and is comparatively cheaper than for some sasons past The richest dresses are the most plainly trimmed around the bottom of the skirt, a narrow llonnce being considerei sufficient Gauze is worn as scarfs for the hat, for the hair, for the dress, for the throat, and every day some new position is designated acthe place for one. Grey straw is not fashionable-, the natural yellow tint being generally worn, though white and black, either alone or combined are much used. The long round overskirt is still fashionable, but to vary the style the sides are made with square corners and the trimming extends to the waist Real French foulards are increasing in favor, and are seen in many imported costumes. They are unrivaled for summer dresses, being light, cool and delicate. "Art jewelry" is shown in silver some of the sets of exquisite filagree work, looking like cobwebs inlaid with frost. Wedding rings of silver are in the jointed betrothal style, and are massy, with the finest elaboration. Washing and stretching, but not ironing, white cree lisse will improve it, as it loses the blue tint that detracts from its beauty. It is fashionable for Egyptian vails, to be worn over the hat crossed behind and knotted carelessly beneath the chin. Siik skirts may be prettily trimraed with a bias flounce four inches deep, in box plaits with wide spaces between, heatred by two erect plaited ru files half as wide as the lower one, and with each plait drawn over the side in a curve. Dark ruftles faced with a lighter shade are the most effective. Sailors' suits for boys are now known as man o' war suits. Navy blue serge made into a loose blouse gathered at the waist long loose trousers, a royal navy hat of Brazilian sennet, and a clasp knife suspended from a white knotted rope around the neck fixes the little lads up in the latest style. rwahlone for CJentIesm. .7 The prevailing style for general wear is a morning coat and vest from a black or blue diagonal cloth, with fancy cassiroere trousers of a pattern adapted to the figure of the wearer. The most fashionable coat is made with three buttons to button, moderately cut away in front of medium length in the waist and skirt and without flaps on the hips. Waistcoat, single-breasted with a step collar. For trousers the principal styles are checks over a striped ground, and stripes or pi ids over a diagonal ground. They are still Cut wide to the leg, but a tri fie smaller at the knee and a shade larger at the bottom than formerly. In fancy suitings for undress wear the leading style of coat is a singlebreasted sack to button three ec foer buttons, cut straight in front and rounded off a little at the bottom. Waistcoat without a collar. The two-button morning coat, with pockets under Haps on the hips, and an outside breastpocket patch, is also in good style and finds tuueh favor. For better wear the douMe-breast frock coat is the only garment in good taste, and continues to be made from the diagonal worsted goods. Blues rather predominate this season, and are aa agreeable change. Silk breast facings and tt& braid are still used where a very smart co is desired, but plain facings and a narrow bound edge is preferable for ordinary wear. Satin or galoon bindings are to be avoided. The frock will also be very fashionable tn Mgbt colors, and tlüs, with trousers to matclw Is the costume m regU for Jerome park and similar places. The new goods tot sprug overcoats are drabs, grays, browns and dark mixtures of fancy worsted raakes. the feather diagonal or Mayo pattern bein one of the best and Mellens in rather light. colors are alsa worn, and are made with Slain ficngs, velvet collar to match, edgea. ouble stitched and cu very easy to the figure, partaking of tke character of ths aenudriving coat The worsted goods are made up with silk facings either for the butn hole or front edge edgee rlat-braided, and plain cloth collar. The Chesterfield or sack overcoat is the prevailing style and ot medium length oaiy. White waistcoats are made principally double breasted, to autton four buttons, and closing rather high. New York Evenlot Post 'Madam, did you ever lift a dog by the tallf "Why, no, you cruel thing, you." "I didn't know, because I Just saw you carry your little child across a gutter by one arm. A dog's tail la a good deal stronger than th. ligament of a baby's Bfcguld.tr,' 1