Indiana State Sentinel, Volume 28, Number 11, Indianapolis, Marion County, 12 March 1879 — Page 7

THE INDIANA STATE ?SEKTnsilLu SDNESDAT MOKNDTGj iRCHJ12f i879Vr

7.

QUEEN ESTHER.

BY R. A. U.VT. "With modest mien she stood before - . The monarch stern and prontl, Her dark hair falling like a veil, Her form In reverence bowed ; Her downcast eyes sparKled like stars That gem the brow of night; Her lips like a pomegranate cleft , Ah! never mortal sight Has beamed on lovlier visions than Esther, the Hebrew maid, Blushing before Ahasuerus, Timid, yet unafraid. He marked the white and lofty brow, The fair obeek tinged with red ; The wealth of clustering midnight carls, The well-shaped, qneenly head. And felt his heart within him thrill As it ne'er thrilled before, 'W hen Vashti smiled on him In love, In the fair days of yore. Of all who sought to win his heart She seemed to him most fair. And so he placed the royal crown On Esther's shining hair. Haman the king's prime minister A proud, vain man was he 'Wished all to do him reverence, And lowly bend the knee; Yet Mordecal bent no knee, Bnt sat at the king'a.gate. Offering no homage cold and stern, As some embodied fate. Hainan's vain heart was full of wrath, What tho' a lordly train Bowed low in homage honor, wealth, Alike to him seemed vain. Since one uncovered not that one A lowly, outcast Jew. "I will," he vowed, "his hated race With vengeful wrath pursue." The royal edict was sent forth. And Hainan's heart beat high ; Alas lor Israel's scattered tribe, booraea lor no crime to die! Ave, don the sackcloth robes, ye lost, Bind ashes on the head; And from yonr peaceful homes wail forth A dirge song for the dead. Qneen Esther heard the direful news; She rent her flowing hair, And bowed her fair head on her hands In silent, inward prayer. Her maidens gazed in wonder on Her white and pallid face; They dreamed not that she too belonged To the proscribed, doomed race. "They are my people my own blood Flows in their veins shall I Escape by silent treachery. And see them helpless die? Perish the thought! One fate be ours! Let all of Israel fast. And pray three days and nights for me I go the die is cast!" In royal robes with trembling heart, Ksther approached the king. "What wilt thou, Esther qneen my own, What tiding do you bring?" Emboldened by his gracious mien, Spake Esther without fear: "Wilt thou and Haman d-ign to grace A feast I shall prepare?" With silken draperies fringed with gold, With flowers ol every hue. The banquet hall seemed fairy land Jnst opening to the view; And Esther, decked with jewels rare, Received her lord, the king: And while the wine cup sparkled high Spoke thus: "My lord, I bring "This my petition, to thine ear If in thy royal sight I have found favor if thou wonldst Turn darkness into ligat: Take from my heart its cruel sting, And quell my spirit's strife; If ever Esther tnu didst love Grant now my plea her lite ! "I and my people, we are sold, But sold to death 's embrace ; Had it been bondage only, then I had not sought thy lace." Out spoke the King in righteous wrath : Where Is the wretch that dared Commit such crime? Himself shall meet The doom for them piepared. "Tis Haman he the wicked foe I Aye bow thy guilty head ; Thy kinsmen soon shall weep above Thee their dishonored dead! Away with him!" They bear him forth, While with a radiant smile. The King strove Esther's heart to calm With many a loving wile. "Rise, Esther, love my gracious qneen Thy people shall be free! And this, the good deed thou hast done, In memory or thee. Shall long be told by lips that praise; Israel, with reverent mien, Murmur with pride tby honored name, Esther, their savior qneen !" SADIE DESMOND'S ERROR. Mrs. Sydney and her son sat over a late breakfast one morning in early spring, talk ing over a contemplated trip to Europe the lady was to take for her health. She was a small, delicate woman, with hands and feet of the most aristocratic proportions, and she worshipped "bine blood" and good family connections, and boasted of having inherited the Watford nose from a long line of ancestors. She was very dignified in manner, and prided herself upon her sim--plicity of dress upon all but great occasions. "There is nothing more vulgar," she would say, "than the present fashion of over-dressing. A lady reserves her lace, velvet and diamonds for full dress; a par venu parades them on the street. They know batter in Europe." Her son, who sat opposite her, was unlike her in every respect. She was blonde, he was dark. She was petite, he stood six feet, with the shoulders of a Hercules. She was low voiced, his tones were clear and ringing. She was aristocratic, and he wis republican to the heart's core; belieyingabove all in the dignity of labor, and proving his belief by refusing to live idly upon his mother's wealth, and by making his own way in the world as a manufacturer. His mother pleaded for a profession, if he would be inde Dendent. but be said: "I had rather be a good master to two or three hundred men and women working for me than to be a poor lawyer, incompetent doctor or dull preacher." "Worthington," Airs. Svdney had said, as they liDgered oyer the table on the morning when they were introduced ta the rjader, "I must have a companion." "I thought you were going with the Grahams." . - ' '1 am. But I mean a companion of my own." "Ob, a maid." "No, a mere maid will not do. It would be absurd forme to start, ia my feeble health, without some one wno could bs constantly with me." - "H'm! yes. I hive see a advertisements for what you want." "A lady who will b? good society, and yet who will expoct to per orin some of the du ties of a maid in return for her salary. I don't suppose it will be easy to find such a person here." 'Perhaps not. Bat in B you may find one." "By advertising?" "So, in the factory. It is rather a long journey for you, but we could be over there by noon, for the rosd is very good." 'That odious factory," sighed Mrs. Sydney. "Don't quarrel with the factory," said her eon good bumoredly. "It gives me my bread and butter. Same of these days I may sell out and retire on my income, but not yet. It is too soon, and I am too young." "You know you will have my money, Worthineton." said his mother plaintively. "Many long years from now, I trust," was the grave reply. P.nt while I live it is enough for both There never was a Walford in trade, and the Sydneys weie all professional men." "Well, well, mother, all the odium there ia in it must be thoroughly incorporated in bit mtm bv this time. Bat wl are wan dering away from the subject under discus

sion. I think I can help you find a companion." "Really, dear, I am a.'rnid a factory girl will not suit me." "Perhaps not; but there are two new comers who have been in better positions and are driven there by streess of circumstances." , "Who are they?" "One, Miss Barah Desmond, is the daughter of a music teacher in B , who died a year ago. The young lady has tried in vain to get pupils enough to support her. B is not the place for her. The people wlw can afford music lessons for their children either send tnem to boarding school or the seminary; so, for lack of pupils, Miss Diamond earns her living in the factory." ''You said there were two. Has she a sister?" ''Jfo, Miss Ford is a friend, I believe. They board together. Miss Ford has been a teacher in the seminary for some time, and was a pupil teacher there while she received her education. She had to give up on account of her health, and yet has no money to live on."

You seem very familiar with the history of these girls, Worthington." "That's one of my duties, mother. I have 300 girls in my factory, and I owe it to each one of them to inquire closely into the an tecedents ot every new comer. "ies, yes, you are- quite right, no doubt; yet 1 should think such matters could be left with overseers. But 1 should like to see these girls." "Drive over witn me this morning, it is warm and pleasant, and the air will do you good." 1 will. 1 must make some selection soon. for the Grahams sail in May, and it is now the Eecond week m April."' J. wo or three hours beiore the discussion between Mrs. Sydney and her son regarding the proposed companion, two girls in a small room in a boarding house in the manufac turing town of a were dressing hastily and chattmg as they twisted their hair and performed toilet duties. Did you have any answer to your adver tisement, Sadie?" asked one, the more subdued and quiet of the two, whose blue eyes were sad, and whose iale face bore the deep nush, coming and gomg, ol weakness. "None, replied Sadie Desmond, who was undeniably handsomer and more stvlish looking than her friend. "I suppose there will be no release for me from this hateful, drudging life. How you can bear it so patiently is a mystery to me." 1 must bear it," was the quiet reply. "Dr. Graves says I must not teach for a year at least, and yet there is the vulgar necessity of eating," and she laughed a low, sweet laugh like a child s, not to mention lodging, clothing, and such trifling mat ters. ' Don't I know?" sail Sadie, bitterly. "When have I ever known anything but poverty, and p3verty's bitterest straits? My education was given me in charity by my uncle, and it is merely wasted in this miser able place. The music teacher's place at the seminary is taken, and father nearly starved on toe few private pupils be could obtain. Poor father! He always thought my handsome face and manner would win me a rich husbind. Rich! Who are the rich men in B ? Manufacturer., with wives and families, and Mr. Worthington Sydney." She blushed at this name as if she waited to be questioned, but Erne Ford was looking from tne window. Joining her, Sadie said: "Mr. Sydney comes often to our loom, Effie" We are green hands, you know. Perhaps he thinks we may spod our work," was the quiet reply. "He is very bauusome, n.tne. . "Y. s, very." 'Unmarried, too, and very rich!" The breakfast bell rang, and Effie want down stairs, with a remark to her companion on the lateness of the hour. "I wonder," thought Sadie, "if it is Ernie s blue eyes or my dark ones that draw Worthington Sydney to our corner." The young man himself could not have answered the question. He stood in the office that overlooked the work room, when every loom was busy, where, unseen himself, the overseer could watch all those employed in it. ' You see," he said to an old lady, very plainly dressed, who stood beside him, "the two young ladies who are at the third loom to the right The one with dark eyes is the music teacher's daughter; the one facing her is Miss Ford." "Suppose I should go in and talk with them?" "If you wish, you can do so, or I will have them come here." "No ; I will go in alone. The tall one is very handsome." "Very. She seems strangely out of place to me, here." Mrs. Sydney crossed the room, pausing to speak to several of the girls, till she stood by Sadie Desmond's side. "Can you tell me," she said, "where I can get a glass of water?" "In the corner by the closet, where the hats hane," was the curt reply. Effie looked up at the gray hairs and said: "If you will take a seat for a moment I can get it for you. The clock will strike 12 in less than two minutes, and 1 can leave the room." "Thank you." was the reply, as the old lady took a seat on a bench near the rrirls. "Can't you find something better to do in noon hours than to wait on an old woman who comes in." said Sadie cintemptuously. "Hush!" said lithe, with a quick, sensitive flush, "she will hear you. But Said a had noted that the old lady's dress was of plain black alpaca, and her bonnet of straw, and was disinclined to .pay any attention to any one dressed in that earb. When the clock struck, Effie hastened for the water, while Sadie took out her luncheon on the bench, near Mrs. Byaney. ine oia lady noticed that Effie took out a napkin from her little basket, to polish the dingy tumbler, and rinsed it carefully, before fill ing it for her. "You are very kind," she said, as she received it. "I am tired from walking about the building." Perhaps you are looting lor some one," said ESie, "and I can help yon. It is can fusing to a stranger to find a friend here." 'No. I was not m search ot any friend." "If vou are looking for a place for a daughter," said Sadie, "you will find 20 ap Dlicatious ahead ot you at tne omca. "Is the work heavy ?" asked tne oiaiaay, turning to Sadie. Try it and see." ws tne ruae repiy. -i was not brought up to it. - Are you gcing to walk. Effle?" '1 think not," cut said, "l will bit here and rest " Sadie rose and crossed the room for her hat, her tall, graceeul figure and aristocratic face marking her in the midst ot the group of cirls on the same errand. Effie sat down, feeline. she scarcely knew whv. that there was a rudeness in Sadie's manner that she must apologize for by re maining with the old lad 7. "You do not look strong." Mrs. Sydney end, noting the delicate complexion and varvine color. "I have not been well, but I am gaining strength here. If you have a fnend who wishes a olace. there are very often vacan cies, and the work is not really heavy, but tiresome. The noise ii the worst, and one gets accustomed to that." Have vou been here Iodb?" And so from Question to Question, Mrs. Sydney drew forth the simple, ?;eryday storv of orphanhood, early struggle witn poverty and (ailing health, but not one complaint. The two were talking earnestly in the deserted room when Mr. Worthington fivrtnnv came from the office to their bench, "Well, mother," he said, after boning to Effie. And the young girl arose, blushing deenlv in her embarrassment. "Sit down." said Mrs. Sidney, kindly, "Yon see I don't want a place tor a friend,

but I have business here notwithstanding." And Effie believed she roust be dreaming when offered the position of c unpaoioo to Mrs Sydney at a liberal Ba'.ary and the promise of European travel. "Can you come to me to-morrow?" the old lady asked; "I shall need your services in preparing for my travels." Anil before the noon hour was over Effie was driving in Mrs. Sydney's carriage to her boarding house to prepare her belongings for an early start in the morning. "She is lovely, Worthington," said Mrs. 8ydney to her son. as they drove homeward, ' and the voyage wi 11 do her good. To think of her being in a factory ! Why, her mother was one of the Marstons, of Providence." "Am 1 supposed to be overpowered?" laughed the young man. "But really, Worthington, she is of good family," said his mother, earnestly. "Her father was a Portland Ford. 1 know the family. Poverty never appals me, but I must confess I shrink from vulgar blood. Miss Desmond is handsome and stylishlooking, but she is no lady. Miss Ford is a gentlewoman, as the English say a lady at heart Sadie was mortified when she heard to whom she had been rude, but there was consolation. Mr. Sydney was not going to Europe with his mother, and black eyes might look more bewitching if the soft blue ones were not so near. She knew she was very handsome, and it Mr. Sidney resented the rudeness to his mother, there were two years to undo the impression. .Circumstances came to Sadie's aid. The uncle who had paid for education died, leaving her an income, small indeed, but enough to save her from the necessity of farther work. She took a small house, nd an aunt came to live with her; and hers, with perfect propriety, she received occasional calls from Mr. Worthington Sydney. But the ambition to ba rich, which had just filled her heart, gave place to a deep love for the young manufacturer, who never exceeded a gentlemanly courtesy in his attentions. In vain she exerted every accomplishment for his admiration playing bechoicest music, sinking her swaete3t songs. In vain she chose becoming drcSjes, and df eked her rare beauty for his eyes. Ever before him was the memory of his mother's words, and involuntarily he traced the little signs that told of a cold heart and utterly sslMah disposition. But over the water came to him letters full of the praises of the gentle companian who accompanied his mother. "You would scarcely know Effie," the old lady wrote, after she had been a year abroad; "she has regained her health, and hers is that rare, delicate beauty which unfolds some new charm when least expected. She is so modest and retiring that one must watch her closely to sea bow well educated and accomplished she is. Imagine my delight to find that she knew French as well as I did, and.that she has conquered Italian in a wonderfully short space of time. Her

music is the rare, real music that comes from the heart; and the tears often rise in my eyes when she fancies I am sleeping and plays for hours as only a true lover of the divine art can play." sometimes there was a formal letter, signed Effie Ford, telling him Mrs. Sydney was not well and wrote by her companion s hand. And after the formal introduction the writer would detail the events of travel since the last letter, unconsciously proving how much sbe siw with an artist's eyes the beauties of scenery she described, or took a quiet, humorous view ot passing events. He would scarcely own it to himself, but Worthington Sydney watched for the letters from the companion with deeper and deeper interest, sending friendly answers that told of bis gratitude for i.tne a tender care of his mother, and pleasure in her letters. Two years passed, and Mrs. bydney began to write of c jming home. She was in Paris with Line, and wrote to her son: Dj take a holiday, and come to escort me home. I have no friends who are returning to America at this time, and I do not care to travel alone." Thinking it all over, Worthington con cluded that he really needed a little rest and recreation, and he presented himself at the hotel much sooner-than his mother had dared to hope. She was alone when he was announced, bnt soon after a graceful young lady entered the room, whom he scarcely recognized as the fragile girl in deep mourning who had bidden him farewell two years before. The pallor ot illness, the shitting color. were gone, and in their place was the glow of parfect health; the sad eyes were replaced uy uues juu ui iinpuiueicf, auui ma irague figure was rounded and graceful. - In her exquisite delicacy of feature, in the expres sion of refinement and intellect, and in per fect manner, she appeared to worthington to far surpass the more striking beauty of Sadie Desmond, who two years ago had cast her quiet loveliness in the shade. Happy days new by quickly in Pans, and when worthington Sydney told his mother the secret of his love, she opened her arms to fold Etne there closely, calling her "dear daughter." And Sadie, when the bridal party returned to d , knew in her heart that her rude ness to the plainly dressed old lady in the factory she had forfeited her opportunity to be Airs. Sydney s companion by her own error. About Colda. Baltimore American. The late Charles Sumner was a member o a consumptive family; all of his brothers and sisters, hut one, were attacked by it as they reached manhood and womanhood. The disease began to develop itself in Mr. Sum' ner very early in his public career. He was advised by bis physician in Boston to dress warmly, protect his feet and body and live in the open air, sawing wood and engaging as far as possible in manual labor; leading. in short, the life a laboring man would lead out doors, and supplementing this regimen bv sanitary precautions In temperature, diet and personal habits when no longer in the open air. In conclusion, we will add for the benefit of that class of tbe community, who, as we have said, delight in remedies and de spise precautions, the recipe for a cold given by Uaneral lieorge Washington to an old lady in Newport when a very young girl in 1781. He was lodged in her father's house the old Vernon mansion and as she was sent early to bed with a bad cold, he remarkmarked to Mrs. vernon: "My own remedy. ray dear madam, is alwas to eat, just before 1 step into bed, a hot roasted onion it 1 have cold." - Haw to Preserve Cat Flower. Tbe most natural as well as the most economical mode of preserving cut flowers is to use any low. shallow vessel, either of glass or china of about tbe size and depth of a soup plate, ll this is tilled witn nice iresh wood-moss made up in a slightly conical or moudd-like form, the nowers and louage can be arranged to great advantage and made to look almost as natural as it growing in the position in which they are placed, instead of having that excessively formal appearance they generally have when closely packed in a vase. Not only do they look infinitely better in this way, but they last fresh considerably longer, owing to the much larzersurface exposed immediately under them, and from whence a steam ol vapor is continually arising from the moss surrounding their stems. Besides tbe nics fresh appearance this has, it is of great nse bath for tho above named purpose and for keeping the flowers in any position they may be Disced in. so that they may be Quickly and easily arranged. A Familiar Name Beanrreeted. rcinclnnatl Gazette ! One of the best men in the whole Demo cratic party for president is W. S. (J roesbeck; yet tbe president-makers rarely mention him. It often happens, however, that the stone the builders reject becomes tbe headstone of the corner. It is well for Mr. G roes beck that be ia not forced to the Iron two years in advance.

STAGE REWARDS.

Actors Who Have Made Fortunes and Those Who Have Not BlCb-Prlced Blstrlons Leaner Lljcbl Bearing tbe Borden the Hard Ti INew York Herald.1 The announcement that Mr. Boucicault received from his manager a check for $500 each night and that before the performance was concluded during three consecutive weeks, suggests the consideration of salaries paid the stag people in general, and "stars" in particular. It is evident tbat while successful artists make, i they do not keep. enormous fortunes, the average actor is no better paid than the average clerk. for what he makes up in salary Is lost in expenses. The chief stars here and in England coin money fast. Sothern, Booth, Keilson, Owens, Maggie Mitchell, Chanfrau and a few others have the cream of the business, leaving the skim milk for managers and pretty hard lack for the minor people. The past and present seasons have been far from profitable to a majority of metropoli tan managers and ruinous to many provin cial managers, but the popular stars have carried harvests of cash outside of New York, which place, for some inscrutable reason. has proved a very Golgotha to nearly every one who bid for public favor. A GLANCE AT BOOTH. The great prosperity of Edwin Booth dates from a period in the easy recollection of the present generation of theater-goers. In his earlier days he had no drawing power, and when Wm. Stuart, the veteran manager ot the Winter Garden, announced him fer a season he was looked upon with unaffected wonder. Fortune and the quick wit of Mr. Stuart favored Booth tbat year, and to the bright suggestions of the manager that he should play ''Hamlet," be Hamlet and look Hamlet off as well as on the stage can fairly be credited the sudden jump he made into public fayor. From that time his star was in the ascendant. In spite of his bankruptcy Edwin Booth is regarded as a very weal thy man. His invariable terms are $500 a performance, and for this sura a check must be given "befoie Edwin can go on." The present Mrs. Booth is a capable business manager, and to her Mr. Booth owes much. In Boston, Philadelphia and San Francisco Edwin Booth is a powerful attraction. In lirookiyn he piayed an enormous engagement, clearing in two weeks the sum of $25,000, which, "however, was but little iu excess of the amount dropped in the Lyceum of this city. His last engagement in this city was a terrible blow to him and to the management. His terms, $500 a perform' ance; but the receipts were next to nothing, comparatively speaking. It is understood that Booth declines to play more than 30 weeks in a year. At his terms of $500 for each performance, or, including a matinee. $3,500 a week, this would give him an annual income of $100,000; but he could easily play 40 weeks at the same terms. HOW SOTHEKK RAKF8 IT IN. Mr. E. A. Sothern estimated his property a year or two ago at the pleasant figure of three quarters of a million. Real ee'ate values have fallen some since then, but Sothern has made money still. His terms are always $500 a performance, unless be plays on shares, and in the latter specialty Be has naa as mgn as ou per cent, oi the gross receipts. An engagement made for him by Mr. Henry wail netted mm, in Canada, tbat extraordinary percentage, and the manage ment made money at that. Unlike Uooih, Sathern furnishes the play. He either owns or virtually controls all bis specialties, and as a rule insists that certain specified artists shall support him in the principal roles. Although he has made much more than $3,500 a week, it would be a fair average for 4o weetcs ia each ol the past iu years, in other words, can calculate definitely on $ux,500 annual income not counting bans tire, of which he always has one In each city of his circuit, or the large sums made when be elects a percentage on the gross receipts. Home years ago sothern invested largely in real estate in this city and elsewhere in the United States, making a mistake com mon 14 those times, from which he not only derives no income, but on which he has to pay heavy taxes. Occasionally Mr. Sothern has essayed the role of manager, but generally with indinerent success. In new plays he has louna out little proht, but our "American Oonsln ' and "Larries ' are mines which, although worked incessantly for many years, give no signs ot being used up. It was said some years ago that the man who would write a brst rate melodrama for Edwin Booth would make a fortune for himself and add to Booth's fame, as well as give him a monumental estate. The actor has long wanted a play in which Xsapoleon the Great should figure, he, of course, to play tbe leading role. In this respect he differs from Sothern, who has had many plays written for him, while nose was ever written for Booth. Like Booth, Sothern is married. He, however, lives in style and spends liberally in entertaining, while Booth carefully saves and puts away for a rainy day. BEILSON A!fO hAVBSPORT. In some respects Adelaide Keilson was the most fortunate star our American heavens have seen. She never had an unsuccessful season, and made money where other favorites dropped money. When she first came here she was well heralded and sprang at once into favor. She has made as much as $1,000 a night six nights a week for four consecutive weeks. At times she has played as low as $1,000 a week, but sbe found no difficulty in closing contracts for 52 weeks in the year at $500 a performance, matinee included. Indeed, the Keilson matinees in Kew York and Boston were always features of tbe week, as ladies could attend without escort, a fact which out-of-town and suburban residents fully appreciate. Miss Keilson's property, real and personal, ia valued at $500,000, of which a large part is invested in real estate in Kew York and Chicago. . When she was out West the surprising growth of the country impressed her, and sbe was persuaded to buy heavily of properties already well ballooned. The subsequent heavy decline affected her seriously, and bad it not been for the kind aid of business friends ber losses would have crippled her. Still, a woman who can make $3,500 a week, not counting benefits, of which sbe averages 10 annually, can not well ba disabled pecuniarily. Miss Neils n wisely declined to purchase new plays, but contented herself with utilizing ber old repertoire. She is now playing in the British provinces and doing well. It is said that she contemplates another visit to this country, and managers are ready for her old time terms.' A veteran manager said recently that next to Adelaide JNeilson, Miss Fanny Davenport is the most valuable star, in the country. By tbat he meintshe could always command big rates, and that ber managers need have no fear about her drawing ability. It ia but few years since Miss Davenport played in Doriesque in iiooieys Minstrel Hall in Brooklyn, dressed in boy's clothes, and ap-

pealing to the sympathies of the gallery youth. Her fortune is not large, but sbe has made a great deal of money, and is always good for $1,000 a week and a benefit, when she plays in popular dramas. In new roles Miss Davenport does not make so much money. She purchased the play of "Olivia," and with a company of her own organizing travels over the country. Dramatic agents say that Fanny Davenport alone is one of the best paying stars in the list, but with a company and her own plays, she is like many others; good here, bad there, and indifferent elsewhere.

OWKN8 AS A It OBEY UAKEB. Mr. John E. Owens is reputed to be the wealthiest actor in the profession. He is fond of playing on shares, and often nets from $3,000 to $1,000 a week, exclusive of benefits. He has accumulated a property estimated at $2,000,000, most of which is tbe airect outgrowth of real estate ventures. For 20 years, however, Mr. Owens has laid away a handsome fortune annually. Like all the most successful actors. Mr. Owens is a spe cialist. As Sothern has his "Dundreary," Booth bis "Hamlet" and Jefferson bis "KiD Van Winkle." so Owens has his "Solon Shingle." Mr. Ovens has avoided speculation in his art, and never goes on the road with companies ot his own. He plays on an average 30 weeks in the year, gives his receipts for about $10,000, and spends the rest of his time on his farm. JEFFKBSON, MAGGIB MITCHELL AND LOTTA. Although Mr. Jefferson is a delineator of one character rather than an acter, as generally understood, he stands near the bead of the rich men in his orofession. He gen erally plays on shares, and makes from $3,000 to $5,000 a week for 40 weeks ia the year. His terms with the Fifth Avenue theater management were extraordinary bait ot every dollar that came in until $1,000 were received and three-quarters of every dollar above $1,000. Mr. Jefferson had been a pecuniary favorite for' many years. His fortune is variously estimated at from $500,000 to $1,000,000. He owns property in Kew lorfc, ew Jersey and Louisiana, and is very careful of it alL Miss Maggie Mitchell is another favorite on whom pecuniary fortune has long smiled. She can clear $30,000 to $50,000 a year with ease, and, having cleared it, she knows how to keep it. Mies LOtta Urabtree averages SI. 000 a week. and bids fair to do better yet. Mr. .Boucicault s drawing power can not be very well estimated, because he appears in his own plays. His last engagement, with his own dramas, netted him $500 each performance. If he couid continue the same terms 40 weeks in a year his annual income would be $110,000 from that source alone. He is also one of the well-to-do men in his profession, a great part of his fortune being made from plays bearing bis name. OTHER ARTI6T8. It would be difficult to class Clara Morris, Mary Anderson. Lawrence Barrett, Mrs. Bowers, Frank Chanfrau, Frank Mayo, Oliver Doud Byron, Rose Eytlnge, Joseph Murphy, Rjlwou and Crane, Modjeska. the Lingards and others leu known, because, while they are enormously successful in some places, they are slid to be quite the reverse in others. While they make a great deal of money in some theatres they play to bad business in others. ModjeEka, for instance, made a hit and a fortune here last year, but her next engagement was a failure. THE STOCK COMPANIES. From the foregoing it may be inferred that actors are coining. money, whether the man agers are or not; but tbese favored ones are tbe fortunates. distinguished in every sense from tbe rank and file of their onerous pro fession, leading men and leading women have to work hard for their pay, and in ferior men and women work harder yet for their compensation. Here and there a Coghlan earns $300 a week for 40 weeks in the year, a Thome receives $200 for 35 or 40 weeks, a Montague draws $250 for 40 weeks and a Gilbert gets $125 for the same period. but $100 is considered a large salary, while many of the best artists in stock companies work like beavers for $50 to $S5 a week. "Fascinating" young men and "attractive" juvenile women find no difficulty In obtaining $100 to 150 a week, but the average stage is a hard road to travel, and many a mock duke and acting princess strut their brief hour in gorgeous garb, knowing that the sheriffs officer awaits their coming, and that no butcher, baker or candlestick maker counts upon a fortune from their patronage. "SHARING" BECK1PT8. It would be impossible to lay down exact programmes for stars or stock actors, as tbeir courses differ in nearly every city. For Instance. Booth is known as a "slider" i. e., he makes terms of one sort in Kew York, and ot another in San Francisco. When be played in the Arch Street theater, Philadelphia, he had 75 percent, of the gross receipts and furnished himself and his support. After an absence of 13 years he net ed $52,000 in six weeks, and the management cleared the same amount. It is well kn wn that he refused $1,000 a night to play 100 nights in Booth's theater in this city; but there was a case in which sentiment played a part. Of late years it is a prevalent custom for certain stars to "share after expenses," but even that has its peculiarities in different cities. In Kew York $500 are allowed; in Boston. $375; in San Francisco, $500: in Philadelphia, $350; in Cinclnnati,$200,andin Pittsburg,$203. Tbe point is here: Stars are glad to share, because their self-esteem bids them look for a big week's business, and managers are willing to share, because when business falls off they are sure of expenses in any event and have nothing to pay for tbe attraction. Lester Wallack generally gets $300 a night, but be has made as high as $2,000 a week in Brooklyn, where he ia a great levonte. Managers generally share with Lawrence Barrett and John T. Kiymond. Mrs. uowers is said to be worth $150,000. E. L. Daven port was always good for $G00 a week on salary, but be was fond of traveling and sharing and died poor... Lotta Crabtree, now a mature woman, is considered good for $250,000. Maggie Mitchell prefers traveling with her own company and in ner own plays List season sbe netted about $1,500 a week. McCulloueh shares after ex nenws Frank Mavo has worked long and hard, and his Crockett specialty is said to have put over SUO.OOO in his pocket. John S. Clarke shares, after expenses, and is very rich. . Tbe Florences make here and lose there: their San Francisco engagement of four weeks netted them $23,000. Tbe late Barney Williams was fortunate in having a careful wife, and when be died he left be hind him about $250,000. Ked Adams made but kept no money. That Montague left so small an estate was a surprise to all who knew him. He bad $250 a week from Wal lack's and was permitted now and then to star. He made $1,100 in one night in Brook lvn. and in Boston about $1,400 a week. That he would have done well in "Dilpo raacy" seems probable. Miss Clara Morris would have one of America's greatest for tunes if ber health was reliable. Managers would gladly pay her $j00 a night for M weeks in the year if there were any certainty other playing. As it is she makes money fast, but tons far. it is slid, has not been able to save much. . Union Park Congregational church, in Chicaco. is still without a pastor, as it has been for nearly a year. It in said to be looking for "a man of commanding ability." It has considerable debt, bnt a fine structure on perhaps the finest site in that city. Rev. W. F. Crafts, of Chicago and Trinity Methodist cburch, has taken a new depart ure. He announces that on Sunday evenings he will answer all written questions about the Bible and religion presented at or before such services. "Future Happiness."' All those who have the future happiness of children at stake should know that Dr. Boll's Baby Syrup contains nothing injurious.

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uqhd prepared directiF Crena tbe WHEAT KERNEB, KilbOBl Persnentatloa. aoad retainlm aU r lie BLOOD, BEBTE AID BRAIH KeMcruc elements l of Yftsvlla n utiinl stale NERVOUS DEBILITY Which underlies an forms or rhmn-n rtiniuua is speedily overcome by the use of this Food. - '"For the year past I have constant! prescribed Tne Blttnenard Bteod and jrve Vood to my patlenta of all ages, from eighteen months to eighty-three years. In every caae the result has been exactly that claimed by you. It la by far the most valuable and reliable Tonic I have ever met with. . J&dwakd Button Pmith, M. D., au Irving Place, Kew York. F0(K AT LAST DRUGS A SUBSTITUTE tor. FOOT) is made a curative agent by concentration and artificial digestion, and it la eo simple In Its application that Tne ndTlce of phraleUai is not required. Thousands of recoveries from chronic dlseanes are reported, wbere the beat medical skill baa failed. Many of the bert physician throughout the country are niMsaMlBt Mir mm and noing tbe Ulaaraam Blood nod .Nerve food with the moot gratifying result, permanently relieving fall forma of Physical and Mental Debility. The Drupvptie and t'onnaonntlve Patient, iratferers from Malarlnl or Blood fotnonlnc, together with the entire lint of complaint pecuJiKr to the Female Hm find in the use of UUa Food sure and speeds relief.; New Tors:, November 2K, 177. Dr. V.W. BIiAnchakd: Dnrlng the past reel I have prescribed yonr various preparations of Food Core, and feel happy to say they have met my meet sanguine expectations, giving to patient long enfeebled by blood polaon, chronic dlseaee, er over drug dosing the need ed nutrition and nerve force. PBor.OLEMENCK H. LOZIER, M. D" Dean of Horn. Med. Uodege and Hospital for Women, New York City . 0 Hundreds of eases of Brla-nfe Dleeaea of the Kidneys have been reported enred. For arnraiKis am atoeatnaue IMnwce it la almost a specific. Physical and Mental Debility from tbe one of Aleobol, Oplsiim avnd Tobeeo or from any nnnamable cause, find In this Food a natoru and do tent remedy. FOB THE IfiTTEIXECTVAI. WORKER tux: blaxciiird BLOOD & NERVE FOOD ACbrds a certain ana natural means of sapplying the waste of the brain resulting Jrora labor that will enable him to do betl-r and more work than ever before, without danger ' of mental strain. As a remedy for tbe ION of Appetite and Wm of Vltror, physical and mental. In children this Food has no rival. $L00 per Bottle, or 6 for $5.00. SOLD EY ALL DRUGGISTS, Or Sent by Kxprees on receipt of Price. o AlfDOVXB THEOlyOOTCAL. SEimtAKT, Akdovkk, Mahb March ia, 1S7U. Yonr Life Food lean excellent thing. I have no hesitation, after a thorough trial of it. In recommending It In cases of chronic dyspepsis and nervous prostration. KV. Du. AUSTIN PHELPS THE BUHGHARD FOOD CUB ST NT KM now receiving each popular app cuauon is cieany set iorxn in a M page pa phlet whien will besnnt to any address on eeipt oi za cents. Aoorees Elanchard Food Cure Co. 27 tBrOI eKttXAKE. NEW TORK. URfJETT's FOR THE HAIR IX SOFTESS TUB EAIB, WHEX BA&3B AXS XBT. IT SOOTBSS TUX TRSITATED SCALT. IZ ATTOHDS TBE KICHEST M7STBE. IT PBBTS3TTS TUB HATB FSOK VALUKO OFT. Il PBOXOTZS ITS HEALTH V, TIOOKOC GROWTH. Ir is xot okeast xou sticky. Ir uavxs XO C1SAOKEEABIX ODOtt. Ir KILLS BAJFnaorr. CLIFFORD'S FEBRIFUGE on CURB. ERADICATES ALT. MALARIAL DISEASES fromtks SYSTEM.. J. C. RICHARDSON, Prop., rw-For Bile bv All lrarjoitt. 3T. LOCIS. Cnr! Within a Stipulated Time. Tie Triamnli Trass Co-Zphlisrrioi?. ery, N. Y.,ortertl,UOO for a rapture they cannot cure. The Triumph Trasses have received tbe highest boson at ail fairs where they have been exhibited. Bend 10 cents for book on the Cure of Rupture to either offloe. Kx am I nations free. M A31TXQOX) A tic Urn of vmthfnl fmmlitonea. rtannr uiuiltiue decay, mttou, debility, ate bavin tned in Tain rvery known remedy, ba found a ample self cum. which be Will (end rasa to his fellow mflerara. Addrew a). H. REEVES, S Chetwii ttu. 9T. T.

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