Indiana State Sentinel, Volume 26, Number 45, Indianapolis, Marion County, 27 June 1877 — Page 6

G

THE INDIANA STATE SENTINEL, WEDNESDAY MOllNINGK JUNE 27. 1877.

OX LT.

Only a baby, ' " Kissed and caressed. Gently held to mother's breaat. Only a child, Toddling alone. Brightening now Its happy home. . Only a boy, . TrudiluK to school. Governed now by sterner rule. Only a youth, . Living in area ma. Full of promise life now seems. i Onlv a man. Battling with life, bhared In now by loving wife. Onlv a father, Burdened with care. Silver threads in dark-brown hair. Only a gray beard, To1dlingaain, Growing old and full of pain. Only a mound, O'ergrown with grass, Dreamit unrealized rest at last. ' (Cblcago Tribune. ANGELA'S PRAYER. BY LYNN WOOD. I. It is night in the streets of a fair Italian city, and the lonely queen of light is passing gently as a pure and sorrowful lady over the Bleeping needless children of the south, casting a veil of obscurity over all that is unlovely, and arraying in snowy vesture the tall shafts and broad wills of marble that rise here and there, quivering and spectral, from a bed of darkness. The great bell of the cathedral sound forth one solemn quavering note into the still blue night. The sick and the watchful mark the iron tones and pine at the leaden feet of Time. Sweet sleep, the boon so freely bestowed on the thousands around, is not for them. Lagging lovers, homeward returning, chide the clanging voice which records the swift passing of those precious scanty hours, fleeting as minutes, to their charmed hearts. At the base of a broad Sight of while steps a yon rig man stands, holding in a parting embrace a beautiful girl, 'whose dark, upturned eyes receive in languid acquiessence the passionate gaze of her supporter. Again and again he presses her to his bosom, ere, with a sudden effort she springs from his arms, and tripping lightly up the steps is lost from his transfixed gaze in the darkness of the portico. The closing of a heavy door disturbs for a moment the sleeping echoes, and the young man turns upon his heel and paces slowly down the narrow street, casting many a backward glance at the massive, insensible walls which so effectually guard his priceless jewel. This street led into a wide piazza, on one side of which rose the . noble, pillared facade of the beautiful theater. One hour since the piazza swarmed with gay and noisy thron, which poured into it, like tumbling waters, from the enormous building. Sna ches of melody and fleeting gusts of choruses rise now and again into the clear, night air, intermingled with bursts of mery And mischievous laughter and the continuous buzz of many wagging tongues. Now solemn silence reigns, and the great theater sleeps, wrapped about in a broad cloak of shadow. Now rnethinks might the fairy world have disported ltelf in mazy dances, fearless of hu- ' man interlopers, about the glorious statue of Apollo, which graced tie center of the piazza, bathed in the fullest splendor of the moonlight. Answering beams appeared to stream from the kingly countenance of the god, lending to it a semblance of life that was at once beautiful and fearful. In such guise did it present itelf to the pale, slender girl who crouched, scarcely perceptible, at its feet. The pour upturned face which Beauty had passed by I wore an expression of utter dejection most mournful to behold. The grinding hand of poverty had no part in this, as her rich though quiet attire testified. She rises, and fixing her gaze upon the statue, says in low, mourning tones: "Knowet thou not that I am Ang?Ta, poor silly Angela, thou beauteous ore, that thou lookest with such gracious eyes upon me? Other men may look and mile and jest with me, poor silly Angela, as with one who is without the pale of womanhood And why? Because I am not handsome as my sifter Sylvia. Because I can not charm them with sweet songi as she does. Because I can not smile and jest and laugh as she does. Yet am I not a woman? O thou beautious one? Could I not love as other maidens love? Ay, thon knowest! From henceforth I am thine! Thou art not light and scornful with me, like to other men, or to my sister Sylvia. Thou wilt love the poor outcast Angela whom they despise." As the sad girl spoke these words she flung her arms about the feet of the god, and knelt there in prostration. "Long have I prayed the BIesed Virgin for the power to sing, even as rny sister Syl- - via sings; but she hears me not. Thou thou canst bestow that gift! Thou shalt, or I will never rise again!" Now did the dark Italian eyes lose their languor and blaze with the Intensity of the passion which wrung her slender frame and caused her to tremble from head to foot Was it not sufficient to animate even the cold marble? What is it she hears that causes her to rise with a wild articulation, And clasp her hands upon her bosom with a fervid violence that bruises the tender flesh? The strains of a love-ditty, sung in a high tenor voice by some one at no great distance, warned Angela to forsaks her shrike and flee. Scarcely, however, had she departed ix paces from the statue when, in her heedless haste, she fell into the arms of the man whom she would escape. "Well, my pretty night-bird, hast thou found a nest?" 4'0 Antonio, is it thou?" Angela! What. Angela!" exclaimed in bis tarn the gay Antonio, as he withdrew his arms from the trembling girl. "Is it well done," he continued, in reproving tones, "for a young girl to wander at lanre these dangerous hours of night?" ' Nay, dear Antonio, fear not for me. Who will molest the poor Angela?" and she laughed a low secret laugh. "Give thee pool night, dear Antonio." L'ke a shadow the girl flitted noiselessly across the piazza, and was lost in the darkness of a narrow street. 8ignor Antonio conceived extremely- well of himself as be lounged luxuriously in the ' impresario' $ chair. Had not the great signor departed for England, that foggy home of -wealth, and did not Antonio reign in his stead? Therefore, in every sip of his matutinal chocolate he sucked satisfaction, nd in every whiff of his cigarette blew bletslngion that carelet-j, ligot hearted Italian world, with whom he ao yrapathized, who J acquiesced s heartily in htm, their illustrious first tenor. Leisurely and daintily he looked through bis correspondence, making here and there careless note for the guidance of his writer. At length, over a blank sheet, the delicate white hand bad lingered, and with many hasty erasure, and many a contemplative

perusal of the painted ceiling, he traced the following lines: 'O Sylvia f By thy soft dark eyes . AntoDio live, Antonio dies; - Held ever capttve by one tress Oi thy silken loveliness." In vain he gnawed the luckless quill; the Muses were refractory." Iiis roving glance now fell . upon a white scarf that lay neglected at his feet. He raised it with tender enthusiasm to his lips, exclaiming: "How earnest thou to fall so low, my Frecious relic? Would not my gracious ittle saint recall her favor if she knew how it lay neglected on the floor?". Again and again he bathed his face in the soft whiteness, and thus relieved the feelings he was unable to pour out in verse. Antonio's riassionate phase gradually calmed, and at ast found himself gazing with an intensely absorbed air at the bottom of the bit of porcelain, from which he had drained the last drop of chocolate, his mind being engaged in endeavoring to elucidate the, to him, very unpleasant phenomenon of Sylvia having Buch a si3ter as Angela. "If we but knew hoar to dispose of the poor thing, I might this night hold her matchless sister in my arms." A tap at the door from without interrupts him. "Enter and right welcome, my Syl " ' It is but poor Angela. Signor Antonio. Forgive me if I intrude. Sister Sylvia hath sent me to thee with a message." "Still art thou welcome, Sylvia's sister. Say, quickly, what commands hath she to her slave." "She craves the deputy impresario' forgiveness that she is unable to come herself this morning, as she promised yesternight." "What hindreth, my Angela?" "Sister Sylvia is indisposed, and fears she will be unable to sing to night." "Indisposed! Not a sing to-night, Maria Madre!" Antonio's countenance expressed the wildest consternation. Here was a pretty beginning. Truly an imprestario lies not on a bed of roses. He exclaimed, not to Angela in particular, but taking every article in the room to witness: "Is not this distraction? How shall I find a substitute for my peerless prima donna in less than eight hours withal? The town will be in an uproar." "Be not troubled, good Antonio," said Angela, in quiet, assuring tones, even as one who speaks the words of truth and sobernese; "I will sing for sister Sylvia this night." Antonio answered with a gentle smile: "Aye, my poor Angela, thou wilt sing as thy sister Sylvia sings, and this night also. If this night the all-wise God seeth lit to make good thy baptismal name." Angela also smiled, and as gently said: "That may be. and blessed be God and the mother of God if it be. Yet will I sing before thee, even as my sister Sylvia sings, this night." Antonio gazed in amazement at the insignificant little woman's form as, with a slight inclination of the head, she glided from his presence. Poor fellow! He was not accustomed to the vicissitudes and cares of office. The previous night he had left his Sylvia apparently in perfect health, the fairest thing beneath the moon, and lo! in the morning comes this little, dark bird of ill-omen with Its bit of bad news and crazy consolation. One thing must be done, and that at once namely, to see or hear from Sylvia herself what the probabilities were other appearance this night. Accordingly he dashed off, and was met at the portico of her dwelling by her attendant, who handed him a little scented capricious note, stating, with many protestations of regret, his mistress's utter inability to appear. This was conclusive. The next thing to be done was to pour his grief lavishly, and with much passionate gesticulation, into the ears of his many sympathizers, and to telegraph to a brother impresario at Rome to rescue him, for the love of heaven, from his difficulty, and send him thi first prima donna he could lay his hand upon. To his exuberant delight news arrived shortly that the great Signora L bad graciously consented to appear. III. The sun, which has burnt at white heat all the livelong summer's day, no nears the horison, and his burning linger is laid with a lingeriug touch on the lofty cathedral spires above, as if loth to leave playing in amongst their matchless tracery; whilst the gay laughing lower world turns out in the refreshiug coolness, enjoying the bare fact of living as only Italians can. The broad piazza before the theater swarms once more with merry expectant throngs all bound in the same direction. It was not in the time of Paul the Apostle that people began to spend their time in nothing but telling and hearing some new thing; and his preaching did not end iL Curiobity to. hear the new prima donna, notwiihottn Iii f he pride they took in the'-i own unrivalled native songstress, had brought the people together in unusually large numbers. They pass on in apparently endless streams, and are lost in the vast interior of the theater. The cathedral clock is within a Lair's breadth of the hour at which the opera is to commence, when to figures, the very opposites of each other, pass in quick succession over the now almost empty piazza on their way to the theater. The first, a veiled and demure little woman, pauses for a moment with bowed head by the statue of Appollo, then enters the building. Her follower, a handsome man in evening dress, pauses also at the same spot: and as he lifts his head, upon his countenance is visible an expression in which indignation and despair strive for the mastery. Our imprestario entertains terious thoughts of putting an end to au existence in which such days as he has this day experienced are possible. Now, at the last moment, a telegram has arrived, conveying the distracting news that the Signora L has suddenly been visited with severe indispositionandis'consequently unable to appear. He enters at the private door; and is at once assailed by a dozen excited Inquirers: "Is the signora coming?" "What is the matter with her?" "Who will sing in her absence?" The orchestra, in happy ignorance of the smouldering mine, are now bringing the introduction successful'y to a close; and before the maddened Antonio can tear himself away in order to present his apologies to the house for. the unavoidable absence of the prima donna, and the consequent necessary postponement of the opera, the curtain has risen, and the soft music which introduces the first appearance has commenced. A slight pause ensues, and a thousand pairs of eyes are fixed upon the spot where the heroine of the evening shall ai pear. To his intense astonishment Antonio finds, on reaching the aide scenes, a lady fully attired for the part, with her back V iiku, -n-t in the act of entering upon the tage. To his still greater bewilderment, a voice, musical and clear, so as 1 1 transcend even the voices of his most ecstatic dreams, rises over the hushed crowd. His being was so paralyzed by this wonderful apparition that he scarcely wondered when, upon the songstress turning, be discovered the pale little face and g-eat burning eyes of Angela. Here be remained during the whole performance, bearing and seeing things which were burnt in upon bis mind with such a fiery vividness that In all the years 'to come those great dark eyes, full of an awed enthusiasm, and those unearthly sweet tone, never lost one tithe or their reality; and no sooner was this chord of memory touched

than the world would recede for a time, and his whole being would be entranced, as at this moment. The rest of the com nan y sang through their parts according to their respective abilities; but it was evident that that great assembly saw and heard but one. At length came that wonderful passage, which is at once the climax and the end of the opera,where the young heroine, torn form the bosom of her murdered husband, and, with all hope fled, rises before her vindictive and exulting persecutors, and, in a torrent of impassioned song, calls upon heaven to destroy the inhuman murderers. In sharp and ringing tones, each of which was a throe of an agonized heart, she utters the impassioned cry for vengeance, until, at a fresh sight of the prostrate form of her idolized husband, her voice changes, and in a few low, heartrending tones she tells that her heart is broken, and sinks with a sigh upon his bosom. The curtain fell; and whilst the storm raged without, Antonio and the others rushed upon the stage, in order to express to the no longer "poor Angela" their wonder and admiration. Why do they all suddenly stop short and look upon each other with startled and fearful eyes? The murdered husband has riser;; but the prostrate form of Angela gives no sign of life. Angela has kept her word; she has sung before the imprestario as never woman sang before; but her voice is hushed on earth forever. Angela is she now in very deed.

MCSICAL. AND DRAMATIC. New York city is full of unemployed professionals. t Managers say the theatrical season will open very early this fall. Miss Anna Louise Cary will sing at the Bowdoin college commencement Miss Neil son has been re-engaged by Max Strakosch for next season on the old terms. It has been decided to build the Brooklyn theater on its old site. Work will be commenced at once. Miss Josie Bailey, having married Mr. Walter A. Etynge, has adopted the stage name of Josephine Etynge. The London Court Circular says that the "Philadelphia Exhibition" march, by Wagner, is "a commonplace composition of no permanent value." , Lydia Thompson is seen daily dnvlng her pair of Arabian ponies in Regent park, London. Her collection of jewels is valued at more than $100,000, one necklace alone having cost $37,000. Mr. Morris Simmonds will be Mr. John Brougham's manager during the latter's farewell tour. Mr. Brougham is to appear in two new pieces, "Slander" and "Good By." After this tour he returns to private life. Edward C. Cushman, nephew and adopted son of the dead actress, is materially improving the villa, one of the prettiest in Newport, which was built by the deceased lady, and in which she took so much comfort during the last summers of her life. Vice Chancellor Malins has just decided, in the case of Boosey vs. Fairrie, that the registration of the voice and piano forte score of an opera does not protect the full score, or, in other words, does not protect the opera itself, in the only form in which it could be represented on the stage. Clara Morris has a new play for next season. Frank Mayo also will appear in a new play, "Virginia," by Bartley Campbell. John T. Raymond and William Florence will add a new play to their list: Lily Vining Davenport ( Mrs. Frost-Thorne) has a new play written for her named "Steel Webs." McKee Rankin will appear in Joaquin Miller's new play in the fall. While Doubray, a popular actor, was playing in Paris a few nights ago, his peculiarly tight silk unmentionables gave way up the lack, and poor, Doubray, thus suddenly transformed from an operatic archduke into a representative of Mr. Richard Dout. of nur sery song fame, was forced to back olf the stage in the most ridiculous manner possible, amid the roars of laughter of the audience. "London Assurance" was produced by some amateurs recently in a certain New England village. The house was crowded, and when the programmes were passed around it was noticed that a suppressed snicker began to pervade the juvenile portion of the assemblage. This was subsequently explained by the discovery that the young lady who officiated as village schoolmarm was down on the bill to appear as Lady Gay Spanker." Then the older people began to laugh too. Mr. Charles Coghlan, the actor, belongs to an old and noted Irish family. He was born in Paris in 1844, and was educated in that city. His first intention was to become an artist, and he studied painting under Cabanel, and about the same time, too, he walked the hospitals in Paris for two years, but gave up both painting and medicine for the stage. After going on the stage he flayed both in English and French, in the atter case acting for some years in the provinces, though never in Paris. It is said that a five-year-old girl, named Gemma Cuniberti. is a star at one of the Florentine theaters. She is lovely, and plays ruarvelously, walking the stage with as mnch freedom as if she had trod it all her life. Poets have written verses in her honor, the wife of Salvini, the tragedian, made her a gift of a precious necklace, and the Princess Royal Margherita expressed her appreciation in a beautiful and valuable present Cavallere Rossi, the tragedian, predicts for her a splendid career, and that sue will improve with age until she becomes the greatest actress the world has ever seen. John McCullough tells a good story of his recent trip through New York. He was playing at the modern Syracuse John Banim's noble play of the ancient Syracuse "Damon and Pythias." Damon, when he hears of the election of Philistius as president, mournfully says: "There is now no public virtue left in Syracuse." At this point a hard handed old farmer, from somewhere along the line of the canal, being carried away by the illusion of the play, and indignant at the slur on Syracuse, rose up, and solemnly remarked, "If you come to that, neither is there in Utikyr' The Memphis (Tenn.) Appeal relates the following in its account of the recent burning of the steamer Governor Garland in the Arkansas river: Captain Nowland's conduct was heroic Finding it impossible to rescue his wife and two children, he was compelled to forsake either the former or the latter. He had no time to hesitate, for the flames were already scorching the passenger. Captain Nowland kissed his little ch id re a farewell, and seizing his wife E lunged Into the water. He looked back, ut the little children be could not see, for his eyes filled with tears, such as only a father or mother can know the meaning of. A deck hand named Billy Staples, whose home is in Memphis, witnessed the std farewelL Seizing both of , the children in hit ttrong arms the brave man leaped Into the water and carried them safely to the shore."

PABVCLA.

BY FHOE. Among the red roses at her window A small, slender hand flutters mute and white As the white, white ray that kisses the ring She drew from her finger this night. Which was wrong she r I? ah, pride is pride, Though hearts may be broken by afterthought Though we ourselves by ourselves may be cursed In the lesson which pride has taught! One, two, three three roses clasped to her breast; Ah, lovelin.s of passion, to wither and die! Does she whisper? what to their crimson heart Does she breathe in that low, faint sigh? . The sweet moon falls full on her fair, young face, . And gleams back in the glory of her hair And her lips' warm kisses, Dressed to the rose, Thrill me again with new despair. "O darling darlings kiss, kiss me!" she cries, "I have lost lost lost him!" (Ah, tone so dear!) "Will he never come back? What will they say? He's worth at least twelve thousand a year!" ALL SORTS. Gambetta has a round, retreating forehead, curly hair and a deep, full chest The A then um announces the discovery of Charles Lamb's lost "Poetry for Children." The Yale class of 1874 will give the cup for the class boy to the son of A. B. Nevin, of Pittsfield, Mass. The fountain that Lotta gave to San Francisco is popularly patronized during the phenomenal scorch. The Galveston News thinks the next census will show a larger increase in population and production in Texas than in any other state. The cook of the Carleton club, London, has recovered $125 damages from a newspaper which intimated that his dinners spoiled digestion. John McCullough, in replying from the stage to a congratulatory address, said: "For what you say of my gentlemanly deportment I thank you." Nicholas Fish, the eldest son of ex-Secretary Hamilton Fish, has been promoted from the position of secretary of legation at Berlin to be charge d'affaires at Berne, Switzerland. Mr. Rignold, the actor, did not abscond from New York, as reported, to avoid the payment of his debts. He went to Montreal to fill an engagement under the management of Mr. Strakosch. The St Louis Globe-Democrat firmly believes that the day has come for West Point to be abolished as an antiquated, costly, exclusive, insufficient and unre publican system, or to be liberalized and brought down to modern times. Burlington Hawkeye: Not long ago they had a Sunday-school picnic down at Ihe Cascade, and the two senior deacons threw a couple of lemons and a pint of sugar in the creek, and charged strangers five cents every time they took a drink. Francis D. Moulton paid $325 in a check to Shearman as final settlement of the costs in the late trial. Shearman turned it over to Mrs. Tilton as a gift. She endorsed her name on it and had it cashed. When, in the course of events, it returned to Moulton, he was profane for a brief period. "I am surprised, deacon," said the pastor, "to learn that you of all men should have been seen at that wicked Aimee performance." "Well, you see, sir, 1 got a deadhead ticket, and I thought it my duty to go and keep somebody else out of a seat who might have been harmed by the exhibition." Hon. Alexander H. H. Stuart has published in a Virginia paper a long address to his constituents, reviewing the political events of the past half century, expressing bis views on the present condition of affairs, and announcing Iiis final retirement from public life. A current report that Harvard college intends to admit women is entirely incorrect The Boston Advertiser says: "The question of the ad mis-ion of women to Harvard college has never been considered by the authorities, and is not one of the changes to be expected in this generation." Herr Rubinstein need not have turned up j his nose so haughtily at the offer of 10 guineas made him by Queen Victoria's equerry. It seems that her majesty bad previously ordered two magnificent china vases for his house in Russia. After his performance last year at Windsor Castle the queen sent to , Herr Rubinstein a very fine set of pearl studs. ) The wife of a minister at Waterman, New York, is charged with dishonesty and fraud in business relations, ballot box stuffiingat a Christmas festival, keeping a vicious and unchaste girl in the family against her husband's will, organizing with the aid of the girl a conspiracy to injure and defame her husband, and sustaining indecent and Immoral relations with two men. The English people continue to be uneasy about John Brown, "Her Majesty's bodyservant" One wrathful correspondent writes: "I was in Braemar last week and saw the following edifying sightr The Earl of March trudging along - the road to fish for salmofi; John Brown, driven by one flunkey and attended by another, along the same "road, also bent upon salmon fishing. This is the sort of thing simple Majesty encourages on the upper reaches of the Dee." "Truthful Tommy" says that the other day a lady was deploring the death of an acquaintance with one of the latter's most intimate friends. During the course of their conversation the son of the deceased gentleman entered the room, and conversation became general. On his departure, however, free and personal comment was passed upon him. Said lady No. 2: "That boy has got his mother's eyes." "Yes," subscribed No. 1 reflectively, "and I noticed that he had got his father's umbrella." This remarkable description has stuck to him ever since, and he is known as "the boy with his mother's eyes and his father's umbrella." - A lady of Springfield, Mass., several years ago heard a famous singer give the familiar song of ' Rory O'More," the first two lines of which are: -"It was Rory O'More courted Kathleen OUawn. lie was bold as a hawk, and she soft as the dawn." Much delighted, she went home and sang it from memory, never having seen the muiic. and it is said that for seven years she sang the second line, "He poulrlced a heart and she swallowed it down," before she discovered her mistake. Dead dogs are really an odd kind of merchandise; yet there is a firm in Bau Francis-co which purchases at 50 cents each 'the dogs slaughtered at the city pound. The skins are removed and sold to the tanners, the

hair is disposed of te the plasterers, and then the carcasses are thrown into a great boiler, and there kept until the bones are separated from the flesh, and these are sold to the sugar refiners. The grease that rises to the surface is made into cod liver oil at least so. it is stated. King Victor Emmanuel wrote to the pope to congratulate him on the occasion of his jubilee. His holiness in reply demanded that the Italian government should not be permitted to despoil the parishes and brotherhoods, as otherwise he would be compelled to protest In strong terms against that fresh attack on the church. When the present czar of Russia was 14 years old he was an officer In the guard, and on one ocoassion, in going through the palace, he passed a hall in which were several persons of high military rank, who 'saluted the young prince as he passed. This mark of respect greatly pleased the young man, and he passed and repassed the ball several times In the hope of again receiving it; but the generals took no more notice of him. Annoyed at this, Alexander went to complain to Nicholas, who, instead cf consoliDg Kim, severely reprimanded him for his vanity, and at once deprived him of the rank he held until be should prove himself capable of enduring It honorably. The Duke d'Auniale, like several others of the frugal Orleans race, is enormous'y wealthy. The first thing they did on returning to their country after the fall of the empire, and while France waa straining every nerve to pay off the milliards, was to claim payment of the fortune which had been confiscated during Napoleon's reign. One branch of the family having to follow the example set by the rest of the Catholic world, and to send the pope a jubilee present, forwarded him a very indifferent picture painted by the Comte de Paris's daughter. The incident is so thoroughly characteristic that it has made every one- laugh except the holy father. Mile. Dodu, directress of the telegraph at Hnghien, and who occupied a similar post at Pithiviers (Loiret) in 1870, has received the military medal for an act of courage during the invasion. The Prussians having arrived in the place and seized on her office, she car ried her apparatus into her private room on the first floor. As the wire passed through this apartment she attached to it aaother wire, and being thus able to read the message received by the enemy, she saved a French corps from destruction by giving a timely warning to the French authorities. In a French court lately a juryman observed to the judge that since the opening of the session, five or six causes had been tried, and for every case his name had been drawn. He. therefore, thought the contents of the urn could scarcely have been sufficiently shaken up. The judge assured him that he had thoroughly commingled the contents, but would do so still more, and forthwith he proceeded to plunge his hand into the vessel and manipulate the contents for several minutes. He then drew a ticket which proved to be the name of the unlucky juryman. Everybody smiled as the victim of fate approached the jury box. but counsel intervened in his behalf, and he was permitted 72 hours' leave. Molly Monroe, "The Arizona Amazon," has gone mad. She saw a Prescott courtesan of daring character, who used to accompany all the leading scouts against the Apaches, dressed in buckskin shirt and pants and armed with a Henry rifle, two six-shooters and a bowie knife, and holding her own heroically in a fight. "Wderever there was sickness or want," says her enthusiastic biographer, "she was a visiting angel." She was of eastern birth and good education, was seduced and deserted by her lover, and; so took to the wilds of Arizona, where ex-, citement, dissipation, drink and gambling' soon told their tale upon her morally, mentally and physically.

FASHION XOTES. Chrildren's sashes are still worn very wide, low down, and loosely around the figure, with deep loops in the back. Neckties, bows for fichus, trimmings and, bouquets are a mixture of pink and straw The effect is soft and becoming. " The long polonaise is still admired, and will hold favor during all this season. This fashion appears in all sorts of materials, and can be worn plain or profusely trimmed there seems to be no medium in the way of adornments. Put a bow at the back of the right shoulder of your princess polonaise; fasten a cord beneath the bow; allow the cord to hang in a long loop, in which loop adjust the fullness of the skirt, and you have the newest designs for draping. New polonaises are made with Breton vests and square collars, and trimmed with bands of embroidery. Sleeveless sacques are sent out with French polonaises as part of she suit. Thete are slightly loose and are straight in effect, like the - French walking jacket Low neck dresses are not worn by young ladies. Married ladies may. when they have handsome necks, uncover them, but the exhibition nnless handsome is prohibited by canons of taste. Brides wear their dresses higher than ever, close up around their throats and with thick ruchings outside of lace ones. For traveling dresses the favorite materials are the soft woollen goods in grews and brown. A few are mad of bunting, in what are known as the "black" shades of blue, green and brown; but as bunting is too thin to be worn without lining, this makes traveling dresses very heavy and uncomfortable for warm weather. A caprice in note paper lashions is that the upper right hand corner of the sheet should appear to turn over and be transfixed by a gilt pin to bold it down. On this turnover piece is placed th,e address, generally in Old English characters. The envelope has also a pin inserted at the seal, which has sometimes a shadow below it So exactly imitated are both pin and shadow that one is easily deceived by them. A costume for a girl of 14 in of white na?r eook. The skirt is trimmed Ith scantily gathered flounces, edged with an embroidered ruffle, headed by an embroidered band of insertion. The polonaise has an aprontrimmed front the embroidered insertion and edging rising at the shoulder and continuing to the hem around the botiom of the front and up to the other shoulder. The hem to the back is finished by insertion and edging. The drapery is fastened by bows of Cardinal, Mandarin or navy blue ribbon. Summer morning dresses tor Saratoga and Newport are "perfectly lovely," made of figured Swiss muslin, cut in a clo-e princess form, over pale blue or pa'e pink batiste, and finished up on the edge of the Spanish flounce, the ruffles of the sleeves and the neck with fine Smyrna 1 ice. Loops or bows and endi of ribbon matching the shade of the buiste - brighten them exteriorly. Another style consists of a skirt and longv close stcque fastened down the f rant with bows of "tinted ribbon and trimmed entire with plaiting of - the muslin.- edged with Stnvrna lace, and also with 8myrna lace insertion.

CEXTLEMEX'S FASHIOXS.

Nnnrmer Snlta er Cle-tb The Latent Tnfarf 4 Linen, Hats and Glove. arper's Baiar.l The suits worn by gentlemen for business suits in town and fjom traveling and morning wear in the country during the summer months are of broken and irregular plaids, bars and checks. Brown suits are muck worn, yet there is no decided preference for any one color, and there is the same yantij of. design and liberty in choice of style that now prevail in ladies dresses. For example, both cutaway coats and sacks that do not fit the figure are worn with these suits; and these suits may barely meet at one point, where they are fastened by but one button, and thence cut away, or ebse they may be fastened still lower down by two buttons, or by three. The only obligatory thing is that the entire suit coat, vest and pantaloons must be made from the same piece of goods. The collar of the vest or the absence of any collar, and the mode of fastening, depend entirely on the shape of the coat, with which the vest must correspond. The trousers must be cut large, full and straight, just as they were last year. Semi-dress suits for church, visiting and afternoon wear have frock coats of diagonal worsteds, either black or dark blue. The best authorities say that the only important change from last year's styles is that these coats are slightly shorter and of medium length, instead of the extreme length then worn. The vest is of the material of the coat, or else a double breasted vest ot white duck is worn in very warm weather. The full, straight pantaloons are of niiied gray stripes. For midsummer at the country resorts, navy blue suits of Scotch heather cloth will be preferred to the flannel suits of last year. They are made in the easy English styles described above for business and traveling suits. There is no change in the full dress suit of black broadcloath, except that the swallow tail coat is made a trifle shorter. For full dress at the watering places many gentlemen eschew this altogether, and wear instead a black frock coat, with vest and pantaloons of white duck. The duster for traveling and for driving is the English Munster, of gray Panama cloth or of gray alpaca. It is very long, and is belted like an Ulster coat but is less clumsy looking. Linen traveling coats are made in the same shape. Carriage robes used by gentlemen when driving are of ecru linen, with stripes or merely borders of navy blue or brown, and fringed edges. Others are squares of gray or brown mohair, with an inch-wide worsted braid, either scarlet or blue, stitched flatly on the edge as a border. Plain shirt bosoms of three thicknesses of linen are still preferred. They are made narrower at the lower end. in sh ield shape, while down in front outside of the eyelets for the studs, is the only ornament, a row of stitching half an inch from the edge, or two of three cords in a cluster, or it may be two or three tiny tucks. For percale shirts, to be worn in the morning, white grounds are preferred to the dark grounds of last year.and instead of set stripes and checks there are now dashes, bias bars, Japanese figures, squares, zigzag lines, crescents, and the small spots and mere specks of color that are always liked. Turned down Byron collars are preferred for these negligee shirts. One collar is usually made on the shirt and a second one is furnished. The same is true of the cuffs. The newest linen collars have square or round points, remaining upright English collars have the turned over points rolled very far back, leaving the throat and arms quite bare. Turned down collars are not so deep as formerly, and have quite a wide space in front Cuffs nave tquare or round corners to match the collar, and are fastened by linked sleeve buttons. Night shirts are made either of plain muslin or of figured percale. They have a narrow fluted ruffle around the Byron collar, cuffs, breast pocket, and the broad plait on the bosom; this ruffle is stitched with colored thread, and the initial of the wearer, also in colors, is wrought or. the bosom plait. Summer underwear is made of Balbriggan cotton, as perfectly woven as the finest hosiery. It is shown in cream color and in darker fawn colors. Flat folded scarfs in English fashions are made of satin finished foulards with ecru or white grounds, with colored specks not as large as a pin bead. This scarf is called the Polo Dane, and is shown in indigo blue with white dashes. Very neat styles are preferred to the showy ones formerly used in cravats; this is also true of handkerchief borders, jewelry, etc Light gray grounds with broken checks are made up in slender sailors' knots for scarfs. Basket woven silks are preferred to plain gros grain. What are called lace scarfs are nice and cool for summer wear. They are gauzes and seaside grenadines woven in small colors altogether of cream color, or eis bars of blue or red with black lace like figures between. Olive is barred with pale blue; dark blue has ecru bars. These are worn with scarlet rings. In jewelry there is a fancy for modest little scarf pins of silver representing a trident with shells, a wheel, fan, horseshoes. - gnn, a born, and a fox's bead, a pickaxe, helmet or other simple device. In solid silver these cost from $2 50 to $5. Dressy stud buttons are of white enamel; those for general wear are of faceted red gold or the dead-finishedEtruscan gold. Sleeve buttons are two bars of gold linked together sc that the cuff meets without lapping. Handkerchiefs have narrow half inch hems, with colored lines for a border. Those for dress have wider hems, and an initial or monogram embroidered in color in long, slender letters.- Half bose of fine lisle thread, Balbriggan and silk are in dark colors, plain, or else hair stripes, and are emhroidered on the sides in a darker shade or in contrasting colors. High crowned dress hats are of silver pearl color on a willow frame that renders them porous and cool. The crown is slightly bell Bhape, and the brim has the round English curL Price, $G. Business hats are pearl grey, in Derby shape, with the round crown and brim both stiff, or else a soft crown with stiff brim. Price, $4 50. A novelty for a cool summer bat is a helmet, alsopearl color, with brim dropping in front and back, and narrow on the aides. Its special feature is a corrugated band inside for ventilation, also boles in the crown. Price, $-k The "ounce hat, so soft that it may be carried in the pocket and nly an ounce in weight, is of the finest drab or srray felt,with merely a cord fo a hand. Price, $3.50 to $.5. Straw hats of EnglKh split straw are made in sailor shape, with stiff brims and crowns. They are all white, or else alternate striped braids brown, black or blue with white. The brim are double and are of solid color underneath. PrW. $4. Wide cloth bands trim white sailor hats. Mackinaw rough straw bts are a'ways worn. They may be all soft or all stiff; and cost from $230 to $10. Gloves of drub, pearl or gray lisle thread are worn with two buttons or elastic bands at the wrist fc-nglish gloves have be inner gjoeea of the fingers in contrasting colors. The highest legal tribunal in Pennsylvania has decided that church bells mv be rung for five minutes, begioning half an hour before the time of holding service on Sunday, and agiin for five minutes immediately preceding service time. At all other times the ringing oi church belU or at least of church bells tu fashionable quarters of the city, is adjudged illegal.