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(Copyright.)
The evening when I saw her first is
much more distinct in my memory than
either the one which followed or preceded
it. Indeed, my recollection of the period,
as a whole, is extremely hazy. But that
evening when I arrived, and was told I
might go out into the inclosure and play
with her, has recurred to me often, like
the fragments of a line of music of which
the other bars are lost.
I suppose I must have been, at the time,
11 years old. I was rather a delicate
child, and, for an English boy,. abnor
mally iadvanced in my ideas. Ido not
mean that I was particularly clever, but
whereas the physical development had
been slow the mind, to myself at least,
gave certain compensations. I found much
more pleasure in the novels that 1 bor
rowed or annexed from my sisters than in
amusements of the kind which I was
persistently told were far more fitting to
my age. The gymnasium I remember I
abhorred and the recreation hours when
I was expected at school to strain my
limbs on the parallel and horizontal bars
were so distressing to me that I fre
quently endeavored by remissness in the
E reparation of my lessons to be “pun
ihed” by detention within doors.
I had gone down from town with my fa
ther to view some apartments, which had
been advertised as vacant for the
ensuing year. in Brighton. If
they were found desirable, my mother
and the others were to join us the next
day. For what reason it had been de
cided I should accompany him, I cannot
pretend to conjecture, but I know the
rooms had pleased my father very much.
We had tea together, he and I, in great
contentment; and the window was open
and the sunset was reddening the square.
It is quite plain tame even to the reap
pearance of the owner of the house who
my father said was ‘ a lady.” She led
by the hand a little girl, my junior by a
year or two, with soft golden curls
framing a face wrfich seemed to me the
most beautiful thing possible to con
ceive.
Her name, I was told, was Lilian, and
presently I was strolling with her awk
wardly among the trees and grass plots
to which she had given me entrance
with a key she took from a table in the
hall. X can recall a sentiment of envy
at hearing she enjoyed the privilege of
coming in here every day in the year.
What we talked to each other about,
heaven only knows—which means I don't
—but an indescribable melancholy, which
I liked while I did not understand it, was
with me when we said ‘’good-night,” and
I remember that when I awoke next
morning my first thought was not “My
mother and sisters will be there to-day,”
but “To-day I shall go out again with
Lilian.” The square was the scene of
all our subsequent confidences. Every
evening during the visit, and often in the
day time, she and 1 would let ourselves
into it with the big key off the shiny
table, and wander side by side be
tween the gravel paths and bushes,
while we told each other solemnly
the innocent secrets of our lives. One of
the bushes was very big. and there was
a seat behind it; ana becausoat this point
we were hidden from the windows of the
house—-though, if truth be told, we had
nothing to conceal—it grew to be our fav
orite spot, and there we would, for half
an hour or so on each occasion, regularly
ensconce ourselves. ,
I do not know whether I ever “pro
posed” to her—how I should have pro
posed I have often wondered; but it be
came quite a settled thing between us
that when we grew up Lilian and I were
to marry each other. I used to call her
my “wife” in anticipation, and she, shak
ing back those long golden curls, would
reply tenderly “my little husband!”
Behind the big bush on the morning
that my holiday came to an end she cried
bitterly, and I—nobody will ever under
stand how I felt! My parents smiled at
me, and when I was seated with them in
the train, and Brighton was already dis
tant, they asked me playfully it I was not
sad. I answered, “Oh no. why should I
be?” and looked, with a knot in my
throat, at the flying banks and fences. I
was ashamed to show them what I felt.
For long afterward, a frequent dream of
mine was that I was hurrying down the
hill from the Brighton station. X reached
the square and knew Lilian was inside.
But I could never get the key to surprise
her, and before she saw me I awoke.
It was more than ten years before I
happened to visit Brighton again in the
flesh, and I had long ceased to see it in my
dreams. I had come “down” from Ox
ford—where I bad run up more bills than
a fair allowance justified, or than my
people could afford to pay. I had read
for the bar—which was not a career that
I bad any right to choose—and I had been
j’called” six months when I next chanced
to stand in London super-mare.
It was the long vacation, and though I
was still waiting for my first brief, it had
looked to me desirable to forget tnecourts
and chambers awhile in the freshness of
the sea.
. On the night after my arrival I was
Grsuaded to go to the theater, and dur
st the first entr’acte I remarked in the
row of stalls before me a profile suffi
ciently lovely to make me impatient for a
view of the full face.
The girl who thus attracted my atten
tion was with an elderly lady who was
presumably her mother. The lady pres
ently bowed to my companion, and then
the girl turned, ’bowing to him, too. I
asked him who they were a moment later.
"Mrs. and Miss Sheridan,” he said.
“Isn’t she beautiful?”
“She was a pretty child,” I answered,
for the name was still familiar to me, and
I knew that I had been looking at Lilian
grown up.
After the curtain fell he introduced me
to them in the lobby, and I reminded
them of our old acquaintance. Mrs.
Sheridan remembered me quite well, but
Lilian, I saw with some vague disappoint
ment, could only bring herself to recall
me by an effort. "You do. Lily—you
must!” murmured her mother. But she
shook a puzzled head, with uplifted eye
brows. and a faint smile hovering on her
lips. “A little,” she said—and her cloak
slipped, and she paused to settle it before
a mirror.
I met them the following morning on
the King's road, and Mrs. Sheridan was
kind enough to ask me to call. They
were still in the house in the square, and
—I am sure I do not know why—l was
glad it was so. I grew very friend lyfwith
Lilian in the next few weeks, and on oc
casions I was even alone with her: not in
In the square any more, but in the town
sometimes, when I chanced to encounter
her, and in saunters round the band
stand on the pier. By degress I realized
that I had fallen in love.
I could not say if she saw it—l never
confessed it to her—but I was only two
and-twenty, and at two-and-twenty these
things are difficult to hide. There was
not the faintest gleam of coquetry in her
manner toward me—in fact, she treated
me, I was often irritated to notice, as a boy
—but I thought she saw it, because one
night, apropos de bottes, she told me she
was engaged.
Mrs. Sheridan had been out when I
was shown in, and she and I were sitting
in the dining room. It was nearly 8
o’clock. The blind was not drawn down,
though the sky lamp had been lighted,
and the sky was still quite light and
luminous.
“He is on the continent now, on busi
ness,” she went on, speaking as if it had
been the most natural thing in the world
I should not answer her. “he is away on
business. When he comqs back we are to
be married ”
My heart seemed to contract as her
words fell. I had not known till then how
passionate my love was! The light in the
sky touched her where she sat and
tinged a corner of her hair; her hands
were lying loosely in her lap. I would have
given my life to have fallen on my knees
before her, and bowed my head there and
cried to her.
“Comfort me!” Did she see? She was
so calm, her tone was so composed, I
could not guess.
I mumbled some words of congratula
tion, of good wishes for her welfare, and
found an excuse to take my leave. I
hated the world and -myself. My extrav
agance, my dependence on my people,
wrung me as if my position were respon
sible for her loss—taunted me. as if de
manding, “And if free, what could she be
to you then?” It was getting dark, and
the stars were beginning to quiver in the
heavens. I told them at my lodging I was
returning to London on the morrow, and
went out on the veranda, miserable,
contemplative, with a white face and a
cigar that did not taste, to listen to the
moaning of the sea. -
When a man receives a crushing blow
of the kind I have described, he should
do one of two things. He should either
plunge into whatever amusement or ex
citement comes most handy, or he should
isolate himself from his ordinary sur
roundings, and indulge in absolute qui
. etude. I myself was wise enough to
choose the latter alternative, and made
my way to an old-fashioned town in the
west of England, where I knew that I
need fear no friction, and at the same
time indulge in the pastime to which I
am passionately devoted—that of fishing.
About a mile out of the old town is a
range of wharves, with sheds and ware
houses on them. From these the canal
tuns away to a distance beyond school
boy imagination. No one uses the canal
for bathing purposes, the water being
dirty and the bottom muddy. People
prefer to take their plunge in tfie river,
which is bright, clear and full of trout.
They may not, however, .capture these
trout, for the river is strictly preserved.
So anglers console themselves by fishing
in the canal, where they spend many
most pleasant summer afternoons, end
even days, upon the bank, and are
not at all troubled by the passing
bargemen, who look upon them
good naturedly as being hardly
worthy of even their lighter humour.
The barges are not frequent, but the
passing of a barge is an event, for it stirs
up the water, and the fish bite after its
departure. There are but three kinds of
fish in the canal, and none of them run to
any very great size. They are the eel,
the perch, and the rudd—a sort of genus
of the roach, so muddy in flavor that even
cats turn up their noses at its flesh.
If, in the course of the year! a perch is
caught that turns the scale at a quarter
of a pound, it is shown all over the town
as a trophy. The eels are small, and of
fairly good flavor. Tradition asserts that
5 o
ear 1
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InE iT
SHE TOLD ME SHE WAS ENGAGED.
they reach fabulous dimensions, but this,
like most traditions, lacks substantive
confirmation.
Haying chosen your pitch, it does not
take you long to get to work; and, if you
have a fair supply of bait—which ought
not to be at ail difficult—you will soon be
gin co enjoy very reasonable sport. The
canal swarffis with fish and from four to
six, or even to ten pounds, is not a very
unusual take for a person who has not
been up the night before, armed with a
big basket of ground-bait. There are wily
old sportsmen in the town—why is it, by
the way, that shoe makers are always
such inveterate anglers?—who send an
emissary up over night to ground-bait
their pitch, or even go themselves in the
shade of the evening, and who have their
reward.
A thorough fisherman, who loves his
sport for its own sake, will not regret a
few days on the old canal as wasted. In
my then state of mind it was exactly
what 1 needed. There was none of the
excitement and friction involved in a
day’s fishing on the Thames, or any other
such noted resort. You must take all
your luggage with you. and you will prob
ably even bring your own food, unless you
choose' to have lunch brought for you
from the nearest inn. Thus provided for,
the day will pass so quietly and pleas
antly that it will jar upon you to notice
the shadows lengthening, the white
moths beginning to show themselves and
the grass becoming damp with dew. The
true time at which enthusias '3 declare
you should close for the day is as soon as
you can see the mist on the surface of the
meadows upon the opposite bank. If you
stay longer you risk faceache, if a school
boy, and things worse than a faceache if
of years more mature.
It is time to go home. The rods are
soon tied together. The remainder of the
bait, if you are wise will be thrown in
together with all fragments of your meal.
You may possibly return to-morrow. The
trudge home, unless you are luxurious
and prefer to drive, will freshen your
joints after a day on the bank; and to a
true angler the journey home, wits oc
casional stoppages, is also wonderfully
soothing in its general effect; and you
need not be very young to enjoy your sup
per and your bed after a day on the banks
of the canal. Mor, although long past
your Latin grammar, need you be
ashamed of a day which has been so
simply, so healthily, and pleasantly idled
away.
In this quiet spot I remained a month,
during which time, with what philosophy
I could command, I determined to pull
myself together, and to face my trouble
and disappointment like a man. This, I
hope, I sueceedea in doing. Anvhow, I
returned to London in quite a different
frame of mind to that in which I quitted
it. '
Many changes had occurred to me when
I saw Brighton next. I had spoken a
formal farewell to my youth for one thing
and had already begun to think myself
young again. 1 was 35! A lucky accident
mmy profession had brought my name
THE WEEKLY NEWS (TWO-TIMES-A-WEEK): MONDAY, JULY 30, 1894.
RADWAY’S
PILLS,
Always Reliable.
Purely Vegetable.
Possess properties the most extraordinary
in restoring health. They stimulate to
healthy action the various organs, the natural
conditions of which are so necessary for
health, grapple with and neutralize the im
purities, driving them completely out of the
system.
RADWAY’S PILLS
Have Long Been Acknowledged
as the Best Cure for
SICK HEADACHE,
FEMALE COMPLAINTS,
INDIGESTION/
BILIOUSNESS,
CONSTIPATION,
DYSPEPSIA,
—■ AND-— --
All Disorders of the Liver.
£37“ Full printed directions in each box; 25
cents a box. Sold by all druj :ists.
RAD WAY & CO., 32 Warren street, N. Y.
into some prominence, and my income
was no longer to be despised. I had not
married, though I had often wondered
why I did not; and when, as was the case
with me now, I was temporarily free to
enjoy myself, there were hours when I
disconsolately perceived that I had noth
ing to enjoy.
Lilian was in a bath chair when I saw
her and I Knew her at once. Perhaps the
place of encounter had something to do
with my immediate recognition—though,
as I learnt presently, she had long since
ceased to live here. But it is none the
less a fact that she had changed surpris
ingly little.
She told me she had been ill, but was
getting well again, and the two inquiries
I framed were unfortunate, for her
mother and husband had both been dead
some years. She was very graceful and
sympathetic. Her illness had left only a
delicate palor which harmonized, to my
fancy, with the nature of our meeting.
She was so good as to converse with me
for several minutes, and I was conscious
when I bowed, and continued my walk, of
a feeling of exhilaration.
I met her the day after, and later on I
went to look at the familiar square. The
house was occupied by strangers now.
but through the ground floor window I
could see the room where she had said to
me, “I am engaged.”
Once when we were walking together I
owned to her what I had felt that eve
ning. She said she was quite con
valescent then, but Ido not think it was
health or the breeze of the sea which
warmed her face with so divine a flush,
or which lent the softness to her eyes.
We have often spoken of it since, and when
I reproached her, and exclaimed in jest
that I have served for her as Jacob served
for Rachel, and more, she answers gently
in the words she spoke when as children
we held each other’s hand behind the
bush: “My little husband!”
THE SPARROW WAS PERSISTENT.
A Little Bird That Insisted on Visit
ing the Senate Chamber.
From the Washington Star.
The Senate wing of thecapitolhsd such
a deserted air the other day that a iresh
young sparrow thought he would investi
gate its depths. Windows were opened
wide and through one of these thq ven
turesome little bird flew, landing dazed
and bewildered on the tiled floor of
the marble room, on the north
side. After getting his bearings, he
took flight once more and fluttered out
into the dark lobby and took refuge on
the frame of the glass partition at the
west end. Here be was discovered by
Capt. Bassett, who got the long pole
with which he monkeys occasionally with
time, and rooted the feathered visitor
from his perch. One of the pages
grabbed the bird, but it squirm«L out of
his hand and darted into the senate
chamber and did not stop until it had
reached that most sacred of precincts,
the diplomatic gallery.
Here he rested until a lively page ran
upstairs and entered the public gallery,
whence he climed over the rail into the
space reserved tor foreigners. The spar
row took fright at his approach and flew
aimlessly about the chamoer, while half
a dozen of the boys chased hither and
thither to capture him. At last one of
them, a sturdy little South Carolinian,
who is famous for his political opinions
and his great appetite, got the intruder
and bore him in triumph to a window.
He opened his little fist and the bird flew
off, made a sweep to the northwest and
darted at last through an open window
into the office of the sergeant-at-arms.
He alighted on the rug in front of Col.
Bright’s desk with a cherry “peep” and
settled himself for a stay. He was not
to be kept out of the capitol.
He was an American bird, though of Eu
glish extraction, and he belonged to the
great body politic. He defied the statutes
amt insisted upon his rights. But he was
doomed to disappointment, for he was
soon run into a corner and taken into cus
tody by Capt. Garden, who achieved dis
tinction last evening by dispersing 500
people by means of a twenty-second ora
tion. The captain valiantly hustled the
bird out of the window, and the disap
pointed sparrow sailed off to a bit of
shrubbery and sat there for a long time,
wondering whether he would tackle a
large, fat worm that was slumbering on
the ground just beneath him or go out
to Bladensburg and join the ranks of the
commonweal. Finally he decided to be
sensible and the worm disappeared.
A Primitive Church Bell.
■ CD From the Florida Times-Union.
In West Jacksonville is a small colored
church. The church is an old edifice,
and its congregation has 'grown steadily
until only one-half of it can he accommo
dated at one time. The church has no
beH to call the pious people to worship,
but it has something that answers the
same purpose.
About the time for the brothers ard
sisters to assemble a small boy, probably
10 years old. steps outside the door with
a big plowshare dangling by a string.
In the other hand is a railroad spike.
Every ten seconds or so he strikes the
plowshare with the spike, and keeps it
up for about ten minutes. whe& he gives
a variation in a series of sharp raps to
imitate the tolling of a bell.
The imitation is first rate, and the
sound is not at all unmusical, and calls
the people to the church just as ef
ectively as if the best bell in the world
hung in the steeple.
Bobby—Papa’s the cqptain of our ship
and mama's the pilot. His teacher—And
I suppose—they’re always boxing me.—
Truth.
The boy stood on the burning deck, ’
But his stand was not a bold one,
For when it got too hot for him
He shifted to a cold one.
—lndianapolis Journal.
THE WOMAN OF FASHION.
Ttie Colors to Be Worn in Sultry
August Weeks.
Light Greens and Clear Blues Con
binedWith White—The Gay French
Combinations—Scarfs and Capes for
Evening Wear—Saratoga’s Latest
Fad.
(Copyright.)
New York July 28.—The color question
is now before the house ready to be dis
cussed. What colors shall we wear in
summer days? Are you willing to abide
by Paris’decision? If you are, you will
wear delicate lilac, shot with green; a
white bonnet trimmed with violet color
and pink; a collar or a velvet knot of ma
genta, and perhaps a suggestion of one or
more other shades. Or if not that com
bination, it will be one equally incongru
ous. multi-colored, and charming. For
the fair Parisienne has away of scatter
ing many and varied colors' in the rich
profusion of her toilet, in a fashion that
is above criticism.
• tZ. JftwVvb
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A SASH AND EMBROIDERED ARRANGEMENT.
But let the American girl exercise
great care in her attempts to copy the ex
quisite French coloring. If she do not
possess that rare discrimination of fine
taste of which the Parisienne may boast,
her edmbination of many colors may be
come a veritable Babel, in its confusion of
tints. The American girl is safer in ad
hering to the quieter, more moderate
co'mbinations in vogue. Especially does
this apply to a costume worn on one of
the peculiarly hot and uncomfortable
days that have visited us this summer.
At such times as this almost any color is
distasteful to the eya which seeks neu
tral, cool, subdued tilts. The only de
cided color that is refreshing, is green,
This, in pale, clean shades, or in the
brighter grass Hints, has no
suggestion of warmth in the
coloring. Especially is a touch
of it charming on a white gown,
where a knot of green velvet or moire, or
a belt collar, give sufficient individ
uality to the rather monotonous white.
Those clear purplish blues also have a
cool look about them, particularly when
they trim white. The color is not so gen
erally becoming a green, and for that
reason the verdant tints are more pop-
//141
i <
THE LATEST IN CAPBS.
ular. The style runs to the delicate corn
colorings, as well, for there is nothing
obtrusive or heating in their flaxen tints.
It is surprising to • how great an extent
both tulle'and net are being used as trim
ming, and mousseline de soie is even
more popular. In scarfs and rosettes for
hats, in puffy, gathered bodice fronts, in
sleeve puffs, and in trimmings for even
ing dresses, these materials come univer
sally into play. The*tulle is very perish
able, but the mousseline and net re
pay one for their using, so dainty and
fresh do they look and remain. One of
the prettiest of the summer hats is a deep,
fashionable maize color, of that rough
straw that is yet so frail looking that
you can crush it |with jyour- fingers. A
tiny shape, slanting up into a modest
point in the center of the crown, was
draped with a soft scarf of white mousse
line, knotted loosely at intervals. At the
left side it was bunched in fuller folds,
among which nestled a graceful, white
plumaged bird and at the back the ends
of the scarf fell down. My lady would
wear this at eventide; and when the
breezes began to blow, and her hair would
get ruffled in the winds, she would draw
the ends of her scarf forward, and knot
them in a charming bow beneath her
dimpled, decided chin.
Another, just as pretty or more so, was
of the same corn-color, but a different
straw. It had a peculiar, white sheen
over, as if it had been finely powdered.
The trimming was a cluster of lovely pale
blue rosettes, in mounsseline, with a bunch
of curling ostrich plumes, in white, at one
side.
The girls at the resorts are devising all
sorts of schemes, by which they may ap
pear perfectly irresistable, and captivate
the few eligibles scattered thinly through
the female contingency. They depend
largely, for these effects, upon the thin
and gauzy bits of nothingness, which are
gathered over the shoulders, and graced
with the name of scarf or cape. The cape
is made of lace or chiffon and is a
mass of small, full ruffles laid on
a thin foundation, and tied with
moire ribbons. If of the latest cut, it is
slit open over the shoulders, making it a
trifle more useless than when closed. But
the sleeve puffs must be saved from
crushing at all hazards, even if the cape
is so unmistakably proven an illusion.
The scarf is a trifle less deceiving. It
protects the throat to some extent’ and
ties in such a captivating bow, over the
bodice, that we can easily find excuse
for its existence. The daintiest of these
scarfs is made of fine Indian wool, and
exquisitely embroidered in an open work,
lacey pattern at each end. A tiny scol
lop edges the sides. Such scarfs as those
cost from five to ten dollars. But as
pretty, although not so enduring a one.
can be made of chiffon embroidered in
dainty floral pattern, or in any of the
thin, fancy crepes or crinkled gauzes.
Saratoga has a new fad. A gentle Sy
rian lad, with eyes so bright and spark
ling that they belie the deprecating gest
ure with which he greets you, has been
taken up by all the girls. If you met him
alone you-would hear him murmuring a
quaint Arabian song. But in the early
mornings he is all business, and carries a
precious burden about with him from cot
tage to cottage. When he opens his
clesely packed treasure, there unfolds be
fore admiring eyes beautiful scarfs em
broidered in delicate shades, brightened
with stitches of silver and gold. They
are. embroidered ahke on both sides, upon
a ground work of cream. They come
from Damascus, and he drapes one over
his own head to show you how the
Damascus ladies wear them. They
are, oh! so cheap, that scarcely a girl can
resist the temptation to purchase one.
Sue isn’t quite brave enough to drape it
over her head, so she takes the square,
folds it shawl-shaped, and wears it after
a dance, when there is a stroll on piazza
or in quiet walks, and the moon or elec
tric light catches the silver and gold and
plays with it in coquettish fashion. Some
of the scarfs are long and narrow and
these are hung about the neck and al
lowed to fall in front in impressive, stole
like ends.
The soberer married ladies fancy the
scarfs embroideried on black silk, which
are four or five yards long, hemstitched
all around, and finished with knotted
fringe at the ends. These are droned over
the shoulders, and make graceful substi
tutes for shawls.
Another fad which is rapidly spreading
is that for fine embroidery. Whole corse
lets and bodices are made of it, over a
skirt of other material. Frequently they
are made of very open em broidery, with
a bright-colored silk showing beneath
Sometimes a yoke of the plain silk or the
skirt material is inserted above to soften
the effect. One of these has a draped
scarf arrangement across the bust, fall
ing dqwn at the side in flowing ends.
Fine embroidery, that looks almost like
heavy lace, is introduced with good effect
in the pictured cane. Over the three
short rufiies a yoke effect is given by the
square of rich embroidery which falls
over.
In fact, it is a time when all womankind
may rejoice, for there is scarcely a fancy
that finds favor with her which she may
not inculcate into one of her unique
charming summer toilettes.
Eva A. Schubert.
THE GOSSIP OF GOTHAM.
How the Four Hundred Tried to
Down George M. Pullman.
Mrs. Stevens’ Coming Battle—Daniel
S. Lamont’s Quarrel With the Army
t Officers and Its Results.
New York, July 28.—Now that the in
dustrial features of the Pullman situation
have in a measure passed away, those
members of the palace car magnate’s fam
ily who are socially ambitious have begun
to experience its social effects. The two
eldest daughters of Mr. Pullman have
just become the objects of a social dis
crimination that was the sensation of the
week wherever the Four Hundred of the
metropolis while away the ardors of sum
mer.
It seems that at Newport the name of
Pullman is not in favor. This is stated to
be the result of the social triumphs of the
Pullman girls in Vienna not long ago,
they having secured an entry into the
most exclusive circles of that gay capital
after the efforts of the Yznagas, the
Stenenses, the Wetmores and others had
failed. This success was attributed by
the envious to the princely prodigality
with which George M. Pullman launched
the members of his family on the ocean
of society abroad. They spent money
like water and won the day.
For a long time the fashionables of New
York have wished to revenge the prestige
of the Pullman young ladies, but to their
chagrin they had no opportunity. They
were even obliged to receive the Pull
mans. as George M. only advances those
individuals to position in his company
who have social influence and can thus
further the ambitions of his daughters.
But when the strike came and the details
connected with it showed apparent dis
tress among the inhabitants of the town
of Pullman, a scheme of cruel revenge
was concocted. A young woman of New
York, whose father is known from one
end of the republic to the other, started a
subscription for the relief of the destitute
in Pullman. All the fashionables who
were in the clique subscribed liberally,
and quite a sum was thus secured. One
member of the Union Club is said to have
given a sum that ran into three ijgures.
Meanwhile, the Misses Pullman could
not be reached by any ordinary means of
communication, and as it was the inten
tion of the conspirators that they should
be informed of the attack upon them, the
plan was suggested of sending a request
to George M. Pullman himself to sub
scribe, the request to be accompanied by
the names of persons who had already
given money to the fund. This was done,
but no answer was received, either be
cause the magnate did not receive the let
ter or because he thought it best not to
notice it. But the list of names included
those of persons at whose house the Pull
mans have received social courtesies.
More hostilities were planned than even
this, however. The Pullman girls are to
be socially ostracised this winter, and
those New York young ladies who have
been enabled to cut no figure at all in
social affairs because their fortunes can
not compare with the wealth of the palace
car maker’s daughters are repeating with
glee that they do not care to enjoy hos
pitalities that are wrung out of the wages
of Pullman rent-payers. At Newport this
season the name of Pullman is below par,
and in New York this winter their social
ambitions will be nipped in the bud.
Thus has it transpired that the Pull
man strikers in resisting their employer
have brought about the leading sensation
of New York’s Four Hundred, and those
who recall the prodigal expenditures of
the Pullman girls in making . a position
for themselves are wondering where they
will go now with their dollars.
LAMONT’S ROW.
A difficulty among the army officers
stationed in New York has so far re
ceived no attention to speak of, although
it will not be without a certain influence
on the fortunes of S. Lamont. It seems
that certain differences of opinion arose
between the present Secretary of War
and members of the various corps with
reference to the discipline maintained
among the troops. Mr. Lamont is de
clared to have said that certain tactics
were either not what they should be in
point of accuracy, or at least below the
average of merit.
The reproof was of such a nature that
the officer, who received it. felt decidedly
aggrieved. He communicated with his
brother officers, with the result that
when Mr. Lamont went upon his tecent
tour of the army posts, all the colonels
and captains were found to have entered
into a tacit agreement to annoy the secre
tary as much as they could. Mr. Lamont
came back to Washington with a distinct
sense of personal injury.
It seems that the army men believe
that the secretary meddles with matters
concerning which he knows absolutely
nothing. He undertakes to tell veterans
of the Indian wars what they should do
in the way of drill, and shows that he
has never looked inside of a drill book
himself. This action of his is declared to
needlessly, humiliate the officers before
their men.
As it is, the, military boards have be
come decidedly at odds with Mr. Lamont.
He has occasion to reverse their decisions
with surprising frequency, and gradually
the whole army is becoming curious as to
who will be the victor in the silent con
troversy that has arisen.
SOCIETY’S NEW QUEEN.
This winter will witness the first organ
ized contest for social supremacy in New
York that has taken place since the days
of the Schermerhorns. Mrs Paran Ste
vens is looked up to by one of the parties,
and Ward McAllister will lead the legions
of the other faction. It seems that for
some time there has been a silent protest
by the insiders, as the old aristocracy are
called, against the custom of admitting
anybody and everybody with money
who chose to erect a palace on Fifth ave
nue. The effects of the policy are de
clared to be painfully evident when New
York’s social deities visit London and
Paris. There being no recognized social
power in New Yorn, none is recognized
abroad, and the Knickerbockers are
forced to be polite in the drawing rooms
of the British aristocracy to people whom
they would not even notice in New York.
Now, as it is the habit in London to re
ceive any one who has made a name in
art, literature or other fields of endeavor,
it is proposed to follow some such prac
tice here. Therefore, invitations are to
be sent to people who heretofore have not
been recognized socially by any of the
Four Hundred of the Knickerbocker
stamp. Such a procedure would injure
the prospects of those who have money to
back them, and is being resisted by the
faction headed by Ward McAllister.
Hence, as Mr. Stevens is determined .not
to recognize any more newly rich, there
is in store for New York a real old time
society fight.
One of the tests of the Stevens faction
is to be the possession of a coat of arms,
while all who have no such boast of her
aldry must hasten to provide them
selves with one. The McAllister faction
ought to have the best of it, therefore,
since money will buy anything—even a
coat of arms.
POLITICS AND HUMOR.
Those who suppose that the political
ambitions of John Kendrick Bangs have
received a setback because of his defeat
in the recent elections for the exalted
office of mayor of Yonkers are very much
mistaken. Mr. Bangs is to receive a con
gressional nomination if he wants to have
it. He made a splendid run, surprising
every one by the vote he polled in a com
munity where his party was in a hopeless
minority. He narrowly escaped election.
MEDICAL
THEY DON'T ACREE.
Mm
Pond’s Extract— Jersey Mosquito
small size. Have 'em small size. Have ’em
bigger. For much bigger.
INSTANT RELIEF
from
Sting of MOSQUITO S
from BITES
Heat of SUNBURN
IT IS
sal/* -- The universallyrec-
COQLBNG ognized Specific for
REFRESHING PILES. (Seedirections
HEALING with each bottle.)
For all External Wounds and i
Inflamed Surfaces a Wonderful
Healer. . . . .
Bathe the Aching Head or
the Swollen Feet with POND'S
EXTRACT. What comfort! '
When the mosquitoes send substitutes to do
their work, then use something else “just as
good ”in place of Pond’s Extract. But when
the mosquitoes come themselves, use nothing
but genuine Pond’s Extract. Made only by
Pond’s Extract Co., 76 Fifth Ave., N.Y. City.
_____
HAIR BALSAM
Cleanses and beautifies the hair.
Promotes a luxuriant growth.
Never Fails to Restore Gray
Hair to its Youthful Color.
Cures scalp diseases and hair
falling. 50c. at Druggists.
Weak L.ungfi,lndigestion,Debility,Pain.Takt* in time. 50c,
~^EDUCATIONAL —
wmsin of wiiii
CHARLOTTESVILLE, VA.
Session begins 15 th Sept. Full equipment
and corps of instructors in Academical, En
gineering, Law and Medical Departments.
Excellent climate. New Gymnasium, with
baths free to all students. For catalogues ad
(jrgss
WM. M. THORNTON. LL.D., Chairman.
EMPLOYMENT WANTED.
A SCHOOL wanted by a first-class teacher,
who has taught six years with success;
Florida preferred; best references. W. F.
Ga.
A hundred votes more or less would have
given him the victory.
However, it is not likely that Mr.
Bangs will permit the use of his name
unless ho has some prospect of winning.
Various posts have been proposed for
him, and if the seat in congress is not
given him he will probably be chosen to
some other office within the gift of the
Yonkerites. As few persons are as yet
aware, Mr. Bangs could have had one of
the most lucrative consulships in Europe
had he cared to give up the position
which he now fill so ably—namely that of
jester in ordinary eo the cultured classes
of his country. He is still a very young
man, very popular personally, ana pos
sessed of a greater political pull than
many a thriving politician has. He is
the leader of his party in the district in
which he lives. In this respect he re
sembles many other literary men
throughout the country—Gen. Lew Wal
lace, Joaquin Miller and Thomas Dunn,
English.
KNEE BREECHES AGAIN.
The attempt te revive the knicker
bocker dress for men is again to be made.
Already at Newport the innovation has
been seen here and there, but not until
the New York season opens will there be
anything like a systematic display of silk
clad calves by the beaus of Fifth avenue.
The idea is largely the result of what has
been noticed by traveling New Yorkers
in the capitals of Europe. England, par-,
ticularly. has been having a craze for
knee breeches, and the fashionable tai
lors display various marvels in that line,
no inconsiderable affiount of which have
already been purchased by their Ameri
can customers.
The knickerbocker costume requires a
sash to set it off, and the phenomenon of
the swells in New York attired like boys
of 7 and 8 will serve to edify the unfash
ionable of the metropolis.
it should not be supposed that all these
innovations attract sny undignified atten
tion, however. The average poor New
Yorker and the gamin and haunter of the
streets would scorn to seem so unhabit
uated to metropolitan experience as to
stare at anything fashionable. It Is one
of the unviolated rules of “hoi polloi,” as
a congressman says, never to gaze at any
thing out of the way in the dress or equip
age of the socially powerful. The New-
York proletarian would scorn such a
thing as staring at a fashionably dressed,
woman, wherever she might happen to
show herself. In this respect the New
York “moo’’ is above the London one,
and even that of other American cities.
. NO FASSETT AFTER ALL.
One of those last minute rumors which
no one is ready to trust and yet which
may be true, is to the effect that J. Sloat
Fassett will not run for governor of New
York this fall after all. Most persons
wonder why it is that these distracting
gubernatorial rumors are set afloat so
frequently. The fact is due to the ex
traordinary features of the situation.
There is not the shadow of a doubt that
the governor elected this fall will be
balloted for as a presidential candidate in
the next national convention of his party.
As the republicans feel that they have
such excellent chances it follows that the
range of choice is unexpectedly widened,
and that the names of men of national
fame are mentioned, and that they natur
ally hesitate to decline even the prospect
of such honor as a nomination will bring.
Yet it is curious, too, tnat all the men.
named decline to allow consideration of
their names. This feature of the situa
tion is alleged to be “moonshine” by the
politically expert. No matter who the
nominee is, declare the sages, he will ac
cept the honor.
This has lead to a report of the demo
cratic side. William C. Whitney’s refu
sal to be a candidate is now said to be
ncminal merely. He will accept a nomi
nation, declare those who pretend to
know. Indeed, in spite of all that has
transpired it is still whispered that the
opposing candidates of their respective
parties will be William C. Whitney and.
Chauncey M. Depew.
David Wecbsler.
Marietta Holly, known as “Josiah Alien's
Wife,” talks into a phonograph, and her
words are then copied by a typewriter.
7