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2 VOTARESSES OF MAMMON VICIOUS CRAVING FOR CHANGE AND VARIETY IN DRESS. Dress Regarded As Bric-a-Brac—Sense less Multiplication Dangerous Ten dencies Toward Excess and Extrava gance The History of a Black Silk Dress The Loss of Caste in White Cotton Toilets Recent Dispensations in White Dresses The Sleeve Clever Girls and Charming Costumes. New York. May 38.—Rhoda Broughton tells in one of her novels of a curate's wife whose white silk wedding dress, first dyed brown and then black, was her best dinner party dress for fifteen veal's. Doubtless the wearing of one gown must have grown mo notonous. But after all it had its compen sating side. There was no anxiety with re gard to style and no doubt as to choice. The one dress had a mission to fulfill, and ful filled it. There are few women now but have some such dress, and it is nearly always a black one. As the curate’s wife said: “A black silk dress is always smart enough, and not too smartand a black silk, covered with lace, trimmed with jet or combined with velvet, has become the piece-de-resist a nee of almost all wardrobes. But it is rarely, with ns, the one dress; it is the one in twenty. tendency of dresses—of everything in these days—is to senseless multiplication. Materials are laought because they are pretty: like photograph frames, bits of china, fancy baskets, boxes and covers, un til closets groan and rooms are so burdened with inanimate objects that every bit of free air and vital influence is excluded from them. ‘This growing and eternally fed de sire, this tendency toward accumulation de mands constantly increasing expenditure, and feeds the raging thii-st for money. Money is considered the greatest good. Money is the god that all worship. The names'of two or throe great money kings have become a stock-in-trade with news paper paragraphists; who know that what ever is said about them —true or false—will lie eagerly swallowed by the public, Women, conscientious women, need to hold a strong check unon themselves, that they may not be led away by the vulgar, popular current. Above all, it is time for t hrm to consider their clothing from sonic other iint of view than that of “fashion.” Perhaps there is no other one term in the world that is more misleading or uncertain to-day than this same one of “fashion.” Fashion is the new thing, the happy thought, the revival of an old idea, or the application of an exiting object, to fresh uses. But there is never more than one of it; when it is turned out in dozens it ceases to be fashion. WHITE TOILETS. The embroidered, white, cotton dresses are a case in point. When they were rare and costly ladies wore them, and they were considered and described as “lovely.” Now they are turned out by the hundreds, sold as low as $2 50 each—for an entire robe— and discovered to be so crude, inartistic and chalky that no lady of taste will wear one. We have discovered that a true “white” dress is not dead white—like a wall space— but a collection of soft tints which produce white cloud or water effects; and that this tint upon tint, deepening into shades of brown or green or gray, requires an even finer artist ic sense lor their proper group ing and arrangement than the suitable con trasting of colors. A “white’ - dress, made recently,began with a cloud of grayish tulle laid over a soft, jtale, gray silk. Over this first layer of tulle was draped a lighter shade, and above this, jtearly white—frosted —and held in place by three sash ends of irregular lengths in the three shades of the tulle. These were gath ered upon the ends and fastened down with rosettes of narrow ribbon, each rosette con taining the shades of the tulle. The bodice was of the “white” shade of silk; low, round and edged with small pearl beads. The sleeves were almost nif. This design is charming with pale yellow as the founda tioner in a combination of brown and cream. Cream wool and cream surah enter almost equally into the composition of sum mer costumes, hut not in combination with each other. Whits.* wool dresses leave taken the place of white cotton, and are really more economical for those who have to pay a hotel laundress; for a white washing dress is quickly soiled and tells its own story after it has been washed and starched anil ironed a few times; while a crepy wool— albatross cloth or nuns’ veiling—will last one or two seasons with care, and can then Is* sent to a cleaner or made over for a child. Embroidery in colors and a delicate, striped pattern upon the material, forms the newest and prettiest ornamentation upoil these pule w<x>ls, and the, suggestive con trast-—not ‘it all bold or conspicuous—is needed to give them character. Rosettes or groups of loojis, in narrow ribbon the colors of the embroidery, are often used upon one shoulder or the draped side of the Ixxlice, or to point the draperies of the skirt. It is upon the thin wools that embroidery is mostly expended. The heavier materials, such us dress flannels, vicuna cloths, chud dah cloths, albatross and canvas cloths, re quire more striking finish. Some of these lire trimmed with a velvet strijx*, othei-s are richly braided with gold and still others con trasts with peacock blue or poppy red vel vet. A recent cream wool suit made for New port had a plaited edging of cream surah, a plaited vest of the same, button'd with small gold buttons and a poppy red velvet jacket, cut straight andojxui. with sleeves nearly to the wrist and sailor straw hat t rimmed with red velvet and creamy tufts of feathers. THE ESTHETIC SLEEVE Cream surah and gold surah—for which the demand has been such as to threaten ex tinction from the market—are used mainly for narrow plaiting* and the immense puffings, which have broken out like small-|X)i and threaten an epidemic. “The mills of the gods grind slowly," but if the English esthetes and t he American admirers wanted revenge for the ridicule and contempt In aped upon their slashed sleeves, their leg-of-mutton sleeves, their Greek sleeves, their full medieval sleeves and their fourteenth century sleeves, they can take it now, lor since Paris has swallowed them New York and all America, thut take, im cue from France, must, whether it will or no, and indeed it seems to Iwve done so without making a wry face. The difference with us is, that, while in Ixm don and Paris such conspicuous styles are limited to a small number and to social occa sions, here thev become universal, and, like the "Mother liublnud” wrapper, are put upon the street. The great lack of over dressing seems to be a sense of fitness; but it may lx* only that a larger numlier here have the power of gratifying their inclinations than else where; and only the street in which to dis play their finery. CHECKS AND STRIPES, both large and small, are in the ascendant. At a recent club gathering, a handsome cos tume of black and white silk check had a j mile lied side, vest, cuffs and high collar of exquisite black and white embroidery, Jhe Unmet was black lace, with ornaments of black anil white suiull featnery flowers. Another drew was all gray, except the collar, cuiTs und i)lastxm, which were of rich India brocade. Htriped velvets and hits of rich brixunlc arc now much used as mounting upon plain olive or brown wool, instead of solid velvet, as last year. fcitylixli traveling dresses are of cheek in neutral colors, similes of brown or dark gray, with skirt straight at the bock, short drapery and lmbit bodice. A traveling ulster is fitted at, the back, has n hood and is looped up on one side, or may be lowered as preferred. The ulster inay lie of checked silk, thin summer wool or linen, hut the hood should bo lined with soft silk in solid colors. Checked linens in butcher blue, shades of gray, brown or fawn, are now finished so smoothly that they look like foulard and make useful and cool, as well as inexpen sive,’ summer dresses and long dust cloaks. They are best made up, too, without trim ming, except tucking and stitching: hut when soiled they should not lie washed. They should be sent to the cleaner, and will then come out as good as new and ready for a second season. Clustered lines—white upon blue, upon lilac, upon gray and upon ecru, are com bined with the solid color, in ginghams and other washing fabrics, and are well suited for tennis and the morning wear of girls. The striped cotton is used for the front of the skirt or for sides and turn over upon drapery. It also forms the sailor front (pointed) and collar of the Garibaldi bodice and the cuffs upon the sleeves. CLEVER GIRLS, who are their own dressmakers, are making cheap and charming dresses of blue butcher linen, trimmed with bands of white and blue embroidery upon the material. These are made with full bodice and sleeves —the bands crossing diagonally to the side and fonning a panel upon the lower half of the left of the skirt. Striped blue ami white linen also looks well as mounting for butcher linen. Oatmeal cloth is a cheap and effective ma terial for the summer dresses of girls who make their own, but is hardly worth a dressmaker’s bill. The prettiest way to trim it is with nairow stripes of scrim or oatmeal cloth in which narrow ribbons, silk or velvet, have been run, and which may be used for collar, cuffs, revers and side stripes or to outline a jacket bodice if a full dress front is preferred. Or it may be mounted with collars and cuffs of brown or black or stone blue velvet and worn with straw hat, with band of velvet to match. Hats are in great form and great variety this year. The large flexible leghorns are revived for shade hats and are very becom ing to young flower faces with their “pixe” blossoms and large bows of wide, creamy picot striped gauze ribbon. The majority of the French hats are in fancy straw and neutral shades, turned up high at the back or upon one side and trimmed with gauze and flowers. But these have not displaced the sailor hat, which is more youthful, more available and more readily adapted to tennis and boating costumes; for a change in the band, from dotted to stripe, from stripe to solid color, is equivalent to transformation. Anew straw plait, of which only a few specimens have been seen, scenes to be woven of soft twigs or stems. Its sober, greenish brown tints are perfectly natural, and the trimming of vine, leaves and berries, with gauze ribbon intertwined, extremely appro priate. Another novelty in bonnets consists of crowns formed of plaited ribbon, or ribbons in clustered stripes with fancy edges. They are odd looking, but too difficult and fan tastic to become general. But the great fea ture, after all, of the summer bonnets is the freshness given to them by the revival of fine, faithfully copied, artificial flowers, and the beauty and daintiness of the old-new gauze and pecot-edged ribbons. Bolid rib bons, in solid colors, overpower delicate flowers, but these soft transparencies in tints, which suit almost everything, are very at tractive after four years of velvet and feathers. FRESHNESS IN SUMMER FASHION is always a charm, and there is comfort in variety in hot weather. But much of this comfort Is now sacrificed to costliness. Summer wraps, for example—the size of which is reduced to a minimum are crossed with lace and jet and ribbons, until the price is that of an elegant winter cloak —from SBS to $l5O. Nor do they succeed always in being graceful and becoming at that price. An all-lace mantle, such as hulk's wore a few years ago —before the “made” garments with their fantastic little cut shapes came into vogue—were much more elegant and becoming, while as to their availibility, it may lie sufficient to say that, one bought at Hayward’s in London nine years ago is in existence still the body part doing duty as a fichu, the flounces as cascades upon another wrap, after having seen four years in its original form. Wraps arc one of the most difficult of the problems which the drees question presents in our climate, and with the necessity that, all women feel for dressing up to a certain standard. A more even temperature re quires fewer changes; but the sharp con trasts and pitiless shafts to which not only the seasons but the variations of weather expose all who live in North America, de mand provisions for outdoor comfort and protection of a diversified character. The question in regard to these are made more peiplexing by the fact that our garments are not adapted to our climate, but to some other, and are subject to arbitrary and ca pricious authority, which exercises its power without any regard to health or common sense. As all our wraps are imported or copied from imported styles, the cost is an impor tant item, and this is the reason why very many ladies wait for the heavy reductions made at, the close of the season on all cut and made articles, and buy to put away for next year. There is nothing that is more needed thar. special cloak houses, managed by intelligent women, who jmssoss taste, an eye for form, and know the needs of their sex. The present “departments" arc all in the hands of “buyers” who go abroad and make their selections in summer for the next winter, in winter for the summer, and have not an idea lieyond vvliat they think will “take” the market. parasols arc becoming objects of supreme luxury. A famous silver house in New York now makes a feature of them, as Tiffany has always done, and exhibits not one hut dozens, from $l5O to 8200 each. About $75 worth of silver is hammered or encrusted into the stick, the rest of the amount Unrig scattered over the parasol in ono way or another, it is hard to toll where. Each one is, of course, a sjiecial production, no two being alike; and the bi'X'ades, in clustered striues, the plaids, the cheeks, the embroid ered figures being the newest. .Still the common mind would find it difficult to Pike (lie total of value in. and much of the satis faction of possession must arise from an individual consciousness which cannot lie shared. New designs in handkerchiefs are lovely, because so exquisitely fine and delicate. One lias a bolder consisting of seven waved lines in the finest hem stitching, alternating with regular rows of worked dots. Another has the little, star-like “pixie” to form a narrow border in needle-work, beyond which is an equally narrow edging of line, real Valenciennes. Jenny June. The Champion Swimmer's Double. From the .Veir York Tribune. Bundstrom, the well-known long distance swimmer and trainer of the New York Ath letic Club, relates an absurd experience he had with a “double.” Walking down (ho Bowery one day, he saw a glaring sign over one of the numerous museums, announcing that the “Champion Swimmer of the World” was on exhibition within. Ashe made claim to that title himself he con cluded to enter uud investigate the matter. The curiosities and human bric-a-brac sat around on platforms, while a hand-organ furnished inspiring music. ‘Some eight or ten persons wore gazing at the “Champion,” who was dressed in an uuuatic costume. lie was a short man with red hair, and seemed fullv conscious of his noble achievements. “May 1 ask your name?” inquired Mr. Bundstrom pleasantly. “None of your busmens." “But if you are the champion swimmer you must have a record,’’ said the real champion sternly. “Ob, if it makes any difference to you, Colonel, my name is Bundstrom, champion swimmer of the world. You’ve probably heal'd that name liefore.” “I should say 1 Inal,” said the genuine Bundstrom in surprise. “I was bom with it. My name is Kundxtinm!” And then he added, persuasively. “Come down off that platform, young feller, 1 want to see yon.” The manner of the bogus champion changed completely. He turned as pale us liis rod hair would permit, leaned over and whisnared entreatingly: “You wouldn’t peach on a poor feller and throw him out of a job, would yer. Colonel. I’m only makiu’ $1 a week out of it, auyhow.” THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, MAY 20, 1887-TWELVE PAGES. NOT GIVEN OVER TO MAMMON. A City Where the Dollar bs the Sole Standard of Value. New York, May 28. —New York has the reputation of being a city in which the dol lar is the sole standard of value, in which whoever cannot give evidence of wealth cannot hope to enjoy social pleasures. The people of other cities have a belief that it is of uo use to live in New York and hope to enjoy one’s self without an almost unlimit ed income, ami the New Yorker himself very often, especially if bis ambitions outreach his means, growLs about the cold-hearted ness and hollowness and money-lovingness of the city, declares that it is given over to the worship of money and cares for nothing but ostentatious show. But it is a reputation which New York does not deserve —at least no more than any other large city. Mammon worship is one of the primary emotions of the human breast anyway, and more or less of it Is pretty sure to be found wherever men and money are gathered together. But average the matter among the million arid more ]x*o ple of New Yoilc city, ami they won’t be found any worse than the ordinary run of humanity. This Is one of the things that everybody has believed because it went, par rot-like, from mouth to mouth and gained credibility with every repetition. People have accepted it as true simply because they will believe anything that is repeated often enough, and will unthinkingly go on repeat ing it themselves, although their own expe rience has proven its untruth. What is true of other cities is also true of New York, namely: That it has its exclu sively fashionable sets, each with its own peculiar requirements for udmission, into which money sometimes can and sometimes can’t buy entrance; that it does contain a social circle in which ostentation, snobbism and money worship reign supreme and in which nothing counts but the dollar; and also that these circles form a very, very small part of the city, which has a largo proportion of [icople of sense, of brains and manners, who arts glad to welcome any one of intrinsic value, whether of head or heart, and who care nothing for his purse or his clothes. Indeed, there is a larger propor tion of these ] oplc; they are more interest ing as friends or acquaintances; they are quicker of symyathy and more open of hos pitality, and they are more widely scattered through all classes of society than in any other city known to the writer. There arc in New York quantitiesand quan tities of bright, interesting, cultivated peo ple, acquaintance with whom is a constant source of pleasure, who care not a snap of a finger about the worldly possessions of their friends. If you are a person of usual intel ligence and manners and some originality, and possess, also, common honesty; in short, if you are worth knowing, you will be re ceived cordially in any one of the number less circles formed by these people, and no body will [jay any attention to your clothes or care where you live. Here are some incidents which will prove the truth of these statements. At the weekly reception of one of the best known women in New York, whose evening at home has come to be as near a salon as any in the city, there is often to be seen a lady in the shabbiest of street costumes. In this and in a number of other well-known parlors there is a democratic latitude in cos tume that would never be tolerated in a par lor of equal prominence in any Eurojx-an city. Here elaborate evening toilets, sober looking utility dresses, dark street costumes with bonnet and gloves mix and mingle in a complacent disregard of themselves and one another. The lady in question wore on one occasion black dress, bonnet and gloves, all of which had long passed their best days. She was well known to most of the people there and was one of the most prominent figures of the evening. At the weekly reception of another lady, less well known, but in whose parlors are to be met many people famous iu literature and art, the other evening, there was a young lady who apparently en joyed herself and the conversation of the changing circle about her to the greatest extent, although her dark dres was badly worn, and an observant person passing be hind her saw a well-developed hole in her elbow. But notwithstanding these ’ shock ing facts the hostess was particularly warm ih her invitation to the j’oung lady to come again. These parlors are not in Bohemia, nor are they or their guests exceptional. They are the parlors of well-to-do people who pay the usual regurd to the conven tionalities of society, and their guests are only a few of the thousands of people in New York who are worth knowing and easy to know. Catherine Hawkins. ’ SPRING TOILETS IN BLOSSOM. Some of Which Are Picturesque and Beautiful. New’ York, May 28. —Spring toilets have blossomed simultaneously with the trees, and it may truly be said that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed as are many of the women one sees nowadays in the streets. Borne of them of course are pretty’ and ele gant, and alas! Others are neither the one nor the other. I think, to begin with, a pro test should be raised against the vivid aud unspeakably hideous shade of yellow-green that is so largely used in new costumes, and that makes the feminine wearers resemble colossal South African parrots. Any kind of green, even the palest and most delicate hue can only be worn by women of a certain type. Those for instance who have skins like ivory and reddish golden hair. But when it conies to the startling emerald tints that compose the latest gowns it seems to me that a word of remonstrance is not out of place. The color itself is extremely beau tiful on grass-plot and lilac bush, but it is nevertheless horribly ugly when put info material at so much a yard. There is no woman living to whom it is becoming. Then there is something else that appears to need modification—sleeves. The leg-of-mutton sleeve is both picturesque and pretty on a slim, youthful figure. But is that any rea son why every other fat woman one meets, young droid as the case might lie, should have ridiculous puffs standing out on her shoulders like incipient wings. And then what is the meaning of those stnmgo-look ing patches that appear at the tops of so many arms—nondescript ornamentations, neither a puff nor a slash, nog yet exactly an insertion, but a sort of timid compro mise in which all three have a share? It does seem a pity that with so much good taste everywhere, and so varied an assort ment of exqui-ste fabric which to choose in the shops we should bo compelled to see there moustrosi ties—a procession of green figures, lie-puffed, be-patched and what is more, hc liristled. Surely there is fitness to lie ob served in all things. Clara Lanza. LEMON ELIXIR. A Pleasant Lemon Drink. Fifty cents and one dollar per bottle. Sold by druggists. Prepared by H. Mozley, M. D., Atlanta, Ga. For biliousness and constipation take Lemon Elixir. For indigestion and foul stomach take lit'inon Elixir. For sick and nervous headaches take Lem on Elixir. For sleeplessness and nervousness take Lemon Elixir. For loss of appetite and debility take Lemon Elixir, For fevers, chills and malaria, take Lemon Elixir, nil of which diseases arise from a tor pid or diseased liver. A Prominent Minister Writes. After ten years of great suffering from indigestion, with gnat nervous prostration, biliousness, disordered kidneys iuid constipa tion, 1 have Ixvn cured by four bott.li* of Dr. Mozley’s Lemon Elixir; and am now a well man. Rev. C. <’. Davis, Eld. M. E. Church South, No. 28 Tattnall street, Atlanta, Ga. Bernardo dr Soto, President of Costa P.ica, is only aa years old. anil is a handsome, splendid looking man. 11 is* father, den. Jesus Anolinario lie Boto, la .Minister ul War. “A PALADIN OF FINANCE” THE MANAGER OF THE AMERICAN COTTON OIL TRUST. Mr. E. Urquhart, His Personal Appear ance, and What Ee Says of the Gi gantic Combination of Which He is the Real Director—The Trust’s Rea sons for It3 Existence. From the Chictt'j <> Tribune. Seated in one of the .sleepers of a south bound train on the St. Louis, Iron Moun tain and Southern railroad one day week tjefore last was a man whose portrait would somewhat resemble that of W. H. Vander bilt. There were the side whiskers, the im passive expression, the gold eyeglasses dang ling against a well filled vest, and the gene ral air of ono not asking favors. Seen in the flesh the nnm did not so much resemble the railroad magnate as he would a photo graph. To utilize the face of another rail road king for purposes of ex planation, it may be said that there was a suggestion of Jay Gould in the face and figure. The frame was not large, the side whiskers were black and the keen eyes were alight with an alertness and an intelligence not altogether pertaining to stocks and bonds. This man, whose appear ance so distinctly indicated him a winner in the money game of life, was Mr. E. Urqu hart, acting President and manager of the American Gotten Oil Trust. This is the gi gantic combination which has secured pos session of about 100 cotton seed oil mills of the country, and which absolutely controls that great interest. Mr. Urquliart was on his way from New York to Little Rock, Ark., thence to return at once, by way of Memphis, to the Eastern headquarters of the company. In Arkansas are located a number of the mills which swell the Trust’s possessions and which formerly belonged to Mr. Urquhart personally. Ue is First Vice President of the Trust, but is more than the title implies. It is he who actively controls the great com bination. He has heretofore refused to talk concerning the enterprise iri which he has figured so prominently, but his rule on this occasion was broken. He did talk to a re porter. The talk was the running conver sation of two men discussing a thing of which one knew practically nothing and the other everything. Mr. Urquhart’s com ment: may be introduced with a question put to him: “What about the charge made, at least in ferentially, that the Trust is a gigantic mo nopoly, that it throttles individual enter prise in one field—in short, that while it may be a good thing for a group it is not a good thing for the whole country ?” Mr. Urquhart thought a moment. “Well,” he said, “I’ll tell you my individual experi ence and you may judge for yourself. I con trolled different cotton seed oil mills in Arkansas. I had held an interest previously in a mill in Memphis, but had paid little at tention to it. In Arkansas I worked hard at building up the business. I labored personally in the mills. The outlook seemed good, but there came a change. There were other mills and there was too much competition, not enough seed was produced to keep us all going for enough months in the year to yield a profit. We were in a bad way. You can see the outcome. The idea of a combination occurred as the only recourse to avoid bank ruptcy. The organization of the Trust ac complished what was needed. Many mill owners were saved ti om ruin. Mills in Ala bama and North Carolina, for instance, which have lately come into the Trust, must otherwise have failed within a year. The debts which had to be paid for them in one or two cases equaled the entire value of the property. They were simply saved from wreck. Was not the Trust a good thing for these owners f ’ “But on what terms does a mill come into the Trust—or rather how is it taken In?” “A mill owner thinks it advisable to come into the combination. He declares that his machinery cost so much, that he has ground seed for so many months in the year, that the mill has purchased so many tons of seed and has produced so much oil, and he places a corresponding value on the prop erty. A committee of experts is sent to look over his property, examine his books and verify all his statements. If the ex amination results satisfactorily the mill is taken in and certificates are issued for the amount at which it has been valued If three are any debts these are first paid. The Trust has no debts.” “The certificates are then practically cer tificates of stock in the big company?” “But suppose the mill taken in is owned by a corporation, as so many mills are? And suppose you get hold or a bare con trolling interest? what becomes of the in terest of stockholders who do not want to go into the Trust ?” “They are in about the same situation they occupied before' the deal was made, save that they get, indirectlv. the benefit of the Trust's management. They, of course, get none of the dividends which may be de clared on Trust certificate*, hut the stock company goes on as before. The Trust sim ply manages the mill through its representa tive or representatives among the owners. If a profit, is made a dividend is declared. The outside stockholders get their propor tion of this. Those in the Trust, of course, turn over their dividends to it. Such divi dends as they get come from the Trust cer tificates. We always seek to have one or more of the outsiders represented in the directory of such stock company.” “You say the management goes on as usual after a mill is bought. Do you not put in Trust men to control it ?” “Very rarely. In almost every instance the mills belonging to the Trust are man aged by the men who were in charge before the transfer. Naturally they would know the country and the people better than any one else. Furthermore, the manager is, if lie hold Trust certificates, directly interested in making them as valuable as possible.” “How is he controlled?” “There is a system of daily reports to the main office in Sew York. There the exact condition of any mill’s business is known at any time; the amount of cotton seed it han dles. its production, its expenses, and its receipts are nil apparent at a glance. Each report is compared with the others. An ab solute guide is thus afforded regarding the degree of earnestness and judgment with which each mill is being run. The mana gers everywhere know this. They under stand the test to which tbeii work is put, und there is the consequent rivalry in making good showings. In very few instances has it been found necessary to change the man agement, entirely.” The talk drifted away upon the theme of the Trust’s origin anu organization. Mr. Urquhart said he had not yet read Jenkins’ “Paladin of Finance,” and it was naturally suggested that he was a man who might be amused by it. He was asked if there was any speculation in Trust certificates. “Yes; men bolding them have made sales to raise money in a hurry. But the certifi cates as stock are not yet listed.” It was suggested to Mr. Urquhart that the plan of taking in mills cm Id not goon for ever. When, he was asked, would it stop and what would be the probable capital of the organization? “That depends on the action of the Board of Trustees,” was the reply, “but I think the taking in of mills will cease with the present year.” “The present capital is what?” •Between $85,000,000.000 and $40,000,000.” “Then at the end of the year there will lie a regularly organized company with a fixed capital of, say, $10,000,000 and the stock will be listed r “Yes, probably.” “And thenceforth the company will sim ply buy outright, It' it can, any mill it takes in, no new certificates lieing issued?” “That will necessarily lx; the course after the Trust has fixed its limits as to the is suance of certificates, l’ “What jer cent, of profit do yon expect to realize? ’ To this query the reply was necessarily vague. Mr. Ureiuhart thought the certifi cates should earn 10 per Cent. “The refln- i cries may incrca.se the protits,” he said. It was explainer that not all the mills pro duced the (marketable oil. Some produced it merely in the crude state, and it was then sent to such refineries as seemed advisable. It appears that a great deal of refining is done in Chicago and that an enormous amount of oil is used her# by men whose actions frequently affect ttie provision market. The Chicago demand is one of the sources of strength of the Trust. Another question was asked: “Are not planters grumbling? You dictate, of course, the price to be paid for cotton seed. Is it as high as before the Trust existed* What is the price paid now? “About s!> a ton.” “Is that as much as was formerly paid ?’ “Competition sometimes made a higher price. Oftener the planter got less for his seed than now. There were middlemen who made the profits. Now the middlemen are about done away with. They, not the plant ers. benefited by the higher prices.” “Suppose you get control of two mills competing with each other in the same lo cality, what do you do?” “One of the mills is closed.” “What becomes of the other?” “Well, we can use tho machinery wher ever it is needed.” “You must have a great deal of machin ery on hand.” Mr. Urquhart said emphatically that the machinery in present use or rather ready for use in the various mills was sufficient to crush all the cotton seed purchasable in the United States, operating but six months in the year. Further conversation gave some idea of the Trust’s enormous business. It appears that of the cotton adhering to the seeds and separated by machinery the company this year will put up about 10,000 bales. Not less than ‘.300,000 tons of oil cake will be manufactured, and, from 500,000 tons of seed bought, about 400,000 barrels of oil will be produced. The agents of the Trust in Liverpool practically control the foreign market. Mr. Urquhart talked of a trip he made recently to study the situation abroad. He took with him a supply of American cotton seed and had it ground in British mills. The mills did not do the work as w ell as do mills on this side, being better adapted to crushing the Egyptian cotton seed, which, unlike the American seed, is free from lint. The British mills do not run upon cotton seed exclusively, but crush lin seed, mustard, and other oil producing ce reals in the dull season. Subsequent to the interview above de scribed a visit was made to the mill of the Arkansaw Oil and Compress Company at Texarkana, Ark, The mill was idle and a small army of men were at work upon its machinery, getting everything in order for the fall. The manager said that work would be fairly inauguaated in October. The sup ply of seed for this mill comes largely from Texas and is sufficient to keep it running but half the year. A former stockholder in the Arkansaw Oil and Compress Company was found. He said he had sold out entirely. He feared that a small stockholder would be “squeezed out” somehow by the big concern. He was asked about the price paid for cotton seed. He said it had been higher than now, but said also that middlemen for merly got part of the money. Now the price was at least more regular. The telegraph has called attention to the organization of a rival to the Trust. Wash ington Butcher’s Sons, of Philadelphia, the Olivers and others have formed a company with $5,000,000 or $0,000,000 capital. The cash capital of the new company was esti mated bv men in the Southwest who seemed to know something about it at $1,500,000 to $2,000,000. This would not allow the erec tion of more than half a dozen big mills with working capital. A number of Texas ■ planters said they were prepared to sell more cheaply to the new company than to the one already existing, simply to help it grow into a strong concern. They wanted competition in the seed market. They thought, though, that it would be hard work breaking up the Trust’s monopoly. MR. ROOSEVELT ON THE RANCH WOMAN. Some Points About Them—A Few With Big Fortunes. Mr. Theodore Roosvelt, to whom his Dakota ranch is an object of interest quite as engrossing as the luckless Mugwump, and regarded with rather more friendly feelings, says that the ranch woman—the cattle queen, as the West is falling into the way of styling her—is no newspaper myth. She exists; her numbers are increasing, and she is one of the most characteristic types that the conditions of American life have evolved. She is the modern independent woman, but with a difference. Sho does not stand on her own feet like the New York woman because she feels her influence in society, nor like the New England woman because she has been taught to think for herself, but because, like all frontiersmen, she has been forced to act for herself, and with true Western grit she does it well. She knows how to take care of herself. She knows how to take care of her cattle. She knows how to make for her children a homestead and a heritage. Occasionally, she knows what few self-supporting women have yet learned, how to make money not onlv to live on but to grow rich on, as men ana rich men count w ealth nowadays. “There are women all over the West,” Mr. Roosevelt said the other day, “who have come to Ik* as thoroughly capable of managing their affaire for themselves as if they were the shrewdest of men. Fortitude ami patience we always look for in a woman, but cool bravery and business talent are the qualities that sometimes come out strongest when she finds herself facing a rude civilization and loft to shift for herself as best she can. “Life on the ranch is desperately rough for a woman. There is no call to pity a pioneer of the other sex, for if he has the right stuff in him it won’t hurt him to buckle right down to the bone and then he can’t but succeed. But for a woman, to an Eastern at least, it seems different. And yet, so far as one can see, they like it, a good many of them, and it brings out the best that is in them. “They are not all angels by any means, and a woman desperado is sometimes quite as much to bo feared as the wont of the men. There was one down in Arizona whom the ranchmen tell tales of yet, and with some thing like pride in her exploits too, who killed, so they say, twenty-five men with tier own hand. She was a hard rider and a crack shot, so that it was decidedly risky to be covered by her rifle. But that same pluck and courage that she showed turned into more peaceful channels makes a splendid success of some of the ranchwomen. “The women who are managing cattle ranges for themselves, not helping their husbands gain a footing which is sometimes about its hard, come from nil social ranks and have drifted into the business—l don’t know what proportion of them have deliber ately chosen it—in all soi-ts of ways. Home of them are Texans who were almost cra dled with cattle, and to whom running a mower, feeding stock, breaking wild horses or doing any sort of work about a ranch is so much a matter of education and habit that it seems us much their natural occupa tion as taking in sewing to a notable house wife left a widow in an Eastern village. They take hold cleverly with their husbands if they marry; they strike out for them selves on a small scale, which sometimes grows to a larger one if they don’t. “Other ranchwomen, especially in Dakota, come from Now England, New York or the Htates north of the Ohio. There are school teachers nmong#them, who have concluded to train something that may pos sibly shoot more profitable tlian the unfruit ful young idea. Most of them went West, in the first place, with their husbands, to see what could be done in anew country, and when the man of the family died or broke down, the wife.J rather than sacrifice the foothold already gained, stayed on, learned by experience, nought her knowledge pretty dearly sometimes, failed utterly perhaps, if the winters were had or a fire swept her buildings; succeeded more probably, kept her stock lu good shape, added to their ; numbers and came out ahead a little every : year. It Is no joke to succeed in Dakota in | cattle raising or tree planting or wucat I 1 farming, but women can and do make money in all three. “Success is graded, of course, as elsewhere. The women ranchers whom I know person ally—and that is no very large number— are not in the business on a large scale. Some of them are not ranching as Eastern people, with their ideas of the bigness of Western operations, interpret the word at all. They have no more than six or ten cattle, perhaps, and from that the number will run up to twenty-five or fifty head, but they are an energetic and business-like setof women who arc working industriously in the day of small things, and of course with some, though perhaps with no large numbers of others, the day of larger things lias already come.” How the ranchwoman, whose business enterprise Mr. Roosvelt commends in the West sometimes makes her start from the East is, illustraded in the case of a New York boarding house keeper who is work ing at both ends of the line just now. Keeping boarders is one of the most weari some and discouraging ways in which a woman earns a living. But when she can keep 150 of them the case is different indeed. This energetic woman had laid by money enough some three or four years ago to take up land in Dakota and stock, on a small scale, a cattle range. Since that time her cattle have thriven and her boarding has prospered. With the profits of the Tatter she has increased the number and improved the breed of the former, and is looking for ward to the day, not very far distant, when her Western venture shall be so well stalled and under such promising headway that she need heed no longer the complaints of the parlor floor lodger whose egg is always a minute too hard or ten seconds too soft, but can put up her Gotham shutters and settle herself to grow up with the country in the free and bounding West, where her hand need practice its cunning in the mining of hash no more. The women of the cities and towns East and West have sometimes a curious notion of what they are going to see when they make their first aequantaince with a cattle range. There was one little lady who went from New York last year who alighted with her piano in front of her husband’s sod dugout and was not a little surprised to find that if the doorway was enlarged to let the musical instrument in, the family for want of the room it occupied would have to sleep outside. Hhe took the only course possible under the circumstances, moved for the instant erection of a frame house and was comfortably domiciled with her piano in just the nook, she wanted for it ill the course of a very few months. Most women have a way of taking their home and a good many home comforts with them wherever they g°- , Of the women who have had the courage to make a bold departure for themselves some few have been successful, conspicuous ly among the rich women of the country. There is Mrs Bishop Hiff Warren, who is credited with being the weatkiest woman in Colorado. She is worth $10,000,000, and has made it on cattle with no other business advise than that furnished by her own mother wit. Another cattle queen who has amassed about $1,000,000 is Mrs Rogers, the wife of a minister in Corpus Christi, Tex. Her husband ministers to the spiritual wants of a widely scattered congragation, but Mrs. Rogers, whose talents are of the business order, went into stock raising on a small scale, experimentally, some time ago. She gave her personal attention to the matter from the start, leaving very little to the overseers.. She bought for herself, sold for herself, knew how her cattle were fed, learned to be a fearless rider and was over the range about as frequently as the cow boys she employed and more carefully. She enlarged her enterprises every season, and her business is still growing to-day. Two rich widows who have inherited ranches from their husbands are Mrs. Mas sey, of Colorado, and Mrs Mary Easterly, of Nevada. Mrs. Massey went to Coloraoo as agent for a life insurance company, mar ried a man with 150,000 head of cattle and, it is said, manages them quite as well as he did. Mrs Easterly has not a large herd, but her stock is of a fine grade and she gets good prices for it. She is worth $300,000 maybe. Mrs. Iliff, widow of John Iliff, the cattle king, and Mrs. Meredith, widow of Gen. Meneditn of Illinois, are excellent business women, and making money on stock. Of unmarried women there is Clara Dempsey, of Nevada, as well as Ellen Callahan, of “recent news paper fame, who are worth, the one $20,000, the other rather less, which they have earned from the initial dollar themselves, and who are young women to have made so fair a start in the world. The Marquise de More, though she leaves stock raising to her husband, enjoys life on the ranch and spends a good share of her time in the West, being a good shot and a fine huntswoman. The number of women who have gone West and made money is not a small one and it grows every year. Eliza Putnam Heaton. DR. SHRADY AND THE NEWSBOY. The Surgeon Subjected to a Close and Personal Examination. From, the New York Tribune. Concerning mistaken identity, Dr. George F. Shrady relates tho following incident which occurred to him some years ago. The doctor has a pleasant country house on the Hudson some seven or eight miles north of Kingston, known as “Pine Ridge.” He formerly spent his summers there, and being fond of driving he owned a team of fleet footed sorrels. With these he would spin over the hard country roads at a livelv gait almost daily, usually driving himself. While thus driving on Albany avenue, in Kingston, on his way home one afternoon, being alone in the buggy at the time, ho was hailed by a newsboy, who, mistaking him for a coach man, shouted: “Say, John, can’t you give a fellow a lift?” “How far are you going?” asked the doc tor. “Only out to Gen. Smith’s,” replied the boy. The urchin sprang to the seat beside the driver, and the conversation ran as follows: “Whose rig is this?” “Dr. Shrady’s.” “Oh, yes, he’s the feller from New York. He lives in Flatbush, by the river. I heard of him. Do you work for him?” asked the boy. ‘•Yes,” said the surgeon. “What does he give you?’ “My board and clothes.” “Gosh, is that all? Well, he gives you pretty good clothes, though,” said the boy, inspecting the driver’s make-up. “But you could get more’n that. Maj. Cornell’s coach man gets S3O a month and found. Think of that!” “But the Major is a rich man, and can afford it,” said the driver. “How long have you l>een with the doc tor?” “Ever since I was a boy.” “Never worked for anybody else?’ “No.” “What do you do for him?” continued the interviewer. “Oh, everything he asks me to do. I wash and dress him, black his shoes, some times clean his horses, harness them—in fact, I am his man of all work.” • “Is he so old, then?” “No; lie’s about my age.” “Then he must be a lazy cuss, anyhow.” After a brief pause came this poser from the boy: “Do you like the Doctor?’ “Sometimes Ido and sometimes I don’t. Occasionally I get so disgusted with him that I feel like running away.” “Why don’t you?” “Gh, it’s no use, I cannot. I have to be satisfied.” “Well,” indignantly ejaculated the boy, “I think you’re it daiiioil fool.” “But here is Gen. Hmith’s,” said the doc tor. “All right. Bye, bye, John,” sang out tho boy as he alighted upon the road. “What sort of a preacher is Parson Sur plus? askisi a newly arrived stranger in Austin of a native. “Oh, he is a very fair preacher.” “Is ha a sympathetic preacher?" “You bet he is. Ho never attempts to preach without exciting general syimtatby — it’s such hard work for for him to do It.” —Texas ili/tinus. . BRAVE TEXAN RANGERS THE SOLDIER-SHERIFFS WHO TECT THE FRONTIER. 0 A Corps With a History-its Organ i, tion-Secretary Bayard Not TrouhS by the Majority of Extradition Cases From the New York Star. Of the whole frontier line separating republic of tho United States trom tlfe public of Mexico there is no portion betS? policed than that which extends fromVs Gulf of Mexico to El Paso, Tex This J • i a great measure due to the fact that fill ! the gulf to this little southwestern town?™ boundary between the two republics is natural one, formed by the muddy stre™ of the Rio Grande. But more especially ™ the security of this part of the border the courageous and utiring efforts of thlt portion ot the State troops of Texas knrv,., as the Texas Rangers. There has not been a period in the history of Texas with the romantic name of rangers has not been more or less intimately connected Thill were rangers who fought against Santa Anna, and who fell in the desperate conflict at the Aalmo, and it was dying rangers who bequeathed to their children the tasS of ven geauee which still inspires the Texan in’ every border conflict with the rallying erv “Remember the Alamo.” K The corps of rangers formed part of the troops that fought against the Union during the civil war, and indeed they were tka nucleus around which gathered and were disciplined the wild frontier men of Texas who were, under Gen. Kirby Smith, the last to lay down their arms, long after Gen Robert E. Lee had surrendered his sword to Grant. It seems strange that though Texas was the last of all the States to submit she really suffered so little. Texas to-day owns her public lands, and her mineral wealth is not controlled by the general mining laws of the country. Moreoyer she has to-day as in older times, her corps of rangers, solely controlled by tho State and yet maintained in active military service. This is a unique privilege and one which no other State in the Union enjoys. There did not for some years after the war and during the reconstruction period exist any State force in Texas, and the present organization of rangers came into being in ISi4, when Gov. Richard Coke was in office The whole force at the present time does not number more than 250 men, yet it has been' found amply sufficient to thoroughly police the frontier. A Texas ranger, strange though it may appear, is not usually a Texan by birth. The rangers come from every part of the Union, and quite a number of them are young adventurers, Eastern boys of good families. It is imposible for a poor man to join this State force. He must have, as a preliminary to enlistment, a horse of his own, a Winchester rifle, all the necessities for camping out, and about SIOO invested in his outfit. He joins for a term of six months, and receives S3O a month for his services and sll for a ration for his horse. The State provides him with all the ammunition he may care to fire awav, and under such circumstances it is needless to say that every ranger is a dead shot, both with a rifle and revolver. A coporal receives $35 a month, a sergeant SSO a month, a lieutenant $75 and allowance for two horses, a captain SIOO a month and allowance for two horses. There is no higher rank in the rangers than captain, though when two or three com panies act together the senior captain is commander. The Texas ranger is a curious compound of a soldier and a police officer. He is a State police officer and a soldier at the same time. In the former capacity he performs the duties of a depntv sheriff in every county in the State, and is authorized to arrest fugitives from justice without a warrant. A list of these fugitives is furnished from time to time to every ranger, together with their descriptions, and it is his duty to commit it to memory. The services that this body of State troops has rendered to Texas are incalculable. While all New Mexico and Arizona have been for years past overrun by hostile Apaches the frontier of Texas has never suffered. The manner in which the rangers utterly exterminated the Lepaus and Kickapoos as well as the Comanchesisa lively reminder to the Apaches and Navajoes not to cross the Rio Grande where it borders on the Lone Star State. Here is an incident which threatened at one time to lead to serious international complications. A young Eastern man named Conklin came down to New Mexico in 1880 and started a paper at Socorro. He was a nice young fellow, and soon became very popular- among the few Americans in that thoroughly Mexican town. On Christ mas eve, 1880, there was a kind of church festival held, of which Conklin was manager. While it was in progress two young Mexicans named Baca made themselves very noisy in the room, and as they refused to keep quiet Conklin expelled them. One of them, a young fellow’ about 23, got a revolver, and as Conklin was going home with his wife one of the brothers pulled him aside and the other shot him dead on the spot. The mur derers got off, although the whole town turned out to chase them. Nothing "as heard of either of them for several months. One day Sergt. Gillett of Capt. Baylors company of rangers, then stationed at a little town called Isleta. on the Rio Grande, about six miles east of El Paso, learned that one of the Bacas was clerking in a smaJ store in the Mexecan town of Saragossa, directly opposite on the other bank of the river. Without making any application for extradition papers, Gillett went to the corporal of nis company, and, selecting another ranger, the three agreed to go across the river and capture Baca. They got to the store unobserved. Gillett covered young Baca with his revolver and call upon him to surrender. Before the people around knew what was up the rangers had their prisoner behind one of them on a horse, and they made for the American side. For about two miles and a half they wen chased by indignant Mexicans who nan mounted, many of them without saddles and with only a rope around there horses noses. The ragers kept changing tneir prisoner from one horse to another until t. river bank was gained, and the pursued ari* pursuers exchanged allots all the '' a Z_ When the rangers reached the middle ot to* stream the Mexicans gave up the chase ana returned to Saragossa. Gillett was afrm® of his action not being approved of and so went up to Socorro and turned his pruson _ over to the Sheriff. The next day the in dignant populace hung Baca up to a cot .o • wood tree. . . j,. h Another example of the manner in wr. border officers dispense with the nice . alities of extradition papiers is furnished the tacit agreement which exists bet the Mexican officers at Paso Del h e > Mexico, and the rangers in El Paso, 1* When the rangers know that the man is in neighborhood of the Mexican town, t liev _ over and inform the chief of police that t J want such a man. The Mexican P°“ ce “ at him on some trivial charge or no oliaig < all. They bring the prisoner to the nu of the street car bridge, where an inmß ? line divides the United States from M ’ The Texas officers meet them half w*o •, Mexicans give the unfortunate wre shove that sends him over tno id line, and he finds himself a prisoner tlie laws of Texas. Of course whene Mexican officials require a similar • t 0 rangers are only too glad and wlu ‘ jLny extend it. Anil so oxtadition goes n■, on without troubling the State IVpa to any considerable extent. ... .. This extraordinary force of soldier • is distinctly remarkable for the a loyalty the members bear each other. - have taken for their motto, ‘G™ “ jj cowards,” and they live up to it. lxH , n hardly a member of the force wh # a ranger for even a single year ha - ” „.f IU U through experiences that other m ...jfl* crowd into n life time. Desperad' - \ r . thieves, Indians and fence cutters• leave an id lo day to a company® Kouth -1 luring the strikes on Jay Goulds Houtn western system, it was due to the’ . o j]y alone that passenger traffic "’as ’' mPU) stopped. They are a distinctive class tht even among frontiersmen, ana na u .[, highest degree all the virtues of th< wild Southwestern life, with scarcely one iU vices.