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s*J? 7 te**W*. iMWUIpr MLX? r A @ ® Mgy/f •<1 ' \r i *»’ hH» jr W uatu ► ■■>■ 4&U (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 |j|L jl;!!; /ft imlV 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 ) / /. - V ' 1/ Osa V ) \ 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