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2 TWO LIVES. From the Merchant Traveler. Eb He plucked a half blown rose, and as [ He placed it in her hair, B “Wear this," be said. “ Twill blush to sea ■ How much thou art more fair." Btehe wore the rose until its bloom K Began to fade away, B.Tben cast it by nor thought again B Of where it withered lay. B He loved, and told his love in word* Rfs. That burnt into her souL Lm His name was writ and stood alone R l Upon her heart’s ptire scroll. R And yet when unrelenting time Ssf Her beauty did depose. ■ (He left her. careless of her fate. B Discanled like the rose. IRE MA(i r THE TRAIN RAN OVER. BY LILY CURRY TYNER. V AUTHOR OK “A BOHEMIAN TRAGEDY.” [Copyrighted, 188T.1 Rf There are people with whom haste is ait impossibility, deliberation a birthright. Bfhey are usually delightful souls; their • is a burning reproach to their im liatient brethren, and their success in life is K Wj *ten remarkable. Mr. Levi Luckworthy is eof the happy individuals. He never irries, never has hurried, never intends to lurry. He couldn't hurry if it were to save lis life. He is an amiable gentleman and a eneral favorite. He is under 30, a hand ime blonde, a bachelor and a “newspaper tan.” As the latter term may mean any ns. front the editor-in-chief to the auto rat of the “lift” in an establishment jour alistic, I may as well particularize that lr. Luckworthy is a space writer—one 'ho takes assignments—the best kind of as gnmente —occasionally writes special arti les, and occasionally fills somebody’s place t desk work. Mr. Luckworthy, despite his deliberate ays, is industrious. He manages some (tnes to get in as much as t wenty eolumns week, when his very best impressions are of mutilated and tUe salient joints of his lories are not killed by the inexplicable enius of the night desk or the broad day lalevoienoe of the city editor. A short time since Mr Luekworthy con luded to take up his residence with a mar led sister in a suburb some thirty miles rom New York. His sister, who was ncommonly fond of him, had long urged im to do this; she had impressed upon his ilpd the advantages of home life os eon rasted with that of his town boarding ouse; she had exjiatiated upon the pure ir and peaceful country atmosphere; she iad dwelt upon the cheapness of cymmuta km rates and the frequency of trains, and /evi had at last consented. In some re sects it was not bad, except that he always inert in town, and, when he had a good venifig assignment, quite frequently missed tie last—the midnight—train, in which case, f course, he would not go home until the ext night. And, try as he might, he could ot get down to work as early as when be ived in the city. But nothing serious oe urred until a certain day in the early pring came, and with it a rather important ssignment. for that evening. At 5:30 Mr. ►uofeworthy’s sister was surprised to see kom her parlor window her amiable rela Ive come smiling uji the street and into the ouse.'V “Lee." she exclaimed, “are you ill?" Levi drew off his eoat, still smiling, and xannned his jxxtkets for a cigarette and a natch. “No,” he mumbled after the first puff or wo. “No, my dear, I onlv came home to Iress for a dinner, the Blatant. Blather ikites’ banquet at Delmonico’s ” Mr. Luck worthy then threw himself down n the most comfortable ehair he could find nd proceeded to enjoy his cigarette. “Don’t you have to go liack right off?” lis sister ventured to inquire. “No,” said Ixvi, blandly, “I have two lours. The 7:30 train reaches town at 8:45, eating me fifteen minutes to reach Twenty ,ixth street. The Blatherskites begin to banquet at it.” L Ht>.continued to take his ease until nearly o'clock, when it occurred to him it was rune to begin dressing. With Mr. Luck worth v the making of an evening toilet is art affair of serious import -once. The results, however, are always such as to justify the gentleman’s fastidi ousness. At 7 :'JO Mr. Luck worthy was so handsome that his sister, called in to vouch lor the newness of the lawn tie he had just adjusted, went into raptures. At 7:2S Mr. Luck worthy slijijxxl inside his best toji coat, drew on his gloves and turned out the gas in his room. The station was easily but a live minutes' walk from the house. Mr. Luck worthy had •made it in four minutes. He had no ticket to buy. Serene and sweet, rejoicing in the good feast which should be provided by the ’Blatherskites, Mr. Luckworthy leisurely picked his way aloug. There was a little rise of ground between him and the sta tion. That is, the road ran up hill, then sud denly down again upon the railroad. I k I tl EsMwJji Hie train had (jron. There vas a good deal of engine-|jutting and snorting and bell-ringing going on ; but “ " ‘ ‘ mtil he stood (At the ■I. and looking down, uizeluent, confusion rain pulling swiftly whistled softly and m into the depot, to was only too true! truiu—that stopped there —until !:45, reaching town at 11 or Utter! Impossible! There must be u train, he said to himself. Why "in the world shouldn’t the express that jiasaed through the IMHMMMiout stopping—at 8:11, lie oimi till by sigiuil' “ stop?" he asked the station tna tj4K9yU|i was laconic: took a turn about the Telegraph I The dis the office in about nn uourßHHHJbuld Ih* going on They'd liaye stick of a fellow —if they •t-nt any one at till. Probably such a snli ttitiite, tiemg not in evening attire, would be bans si out. Mr. Luck worthy's piqier would have no nqxirt; and the Blatlier •kites were banqueting a great man who would make a great siieerh, and Mr. Luck worthy's paper would lie left, “Beaten!”he groaned, und turning went >ut into t he stany night, Walking hack to the house, leisurely as •ver, despite circumstances, he philoaonhi rally revolved in his mind the striking jxilnts *f the situation. “Lee,” ejaculated his sister, "have you missed your train?" Levi smiled. “There’s a later one. I forgot souk 'h i Aiiba kMR up to his room, whiatliug ott ' *!)%. PfHft down ngaiit, in u moment or two, his sister was nutting the children to bed and did not see him. He earned tries second lest top coat on his arm, and some other things which might indicate a purjxKe to remain over nijjht in town. And up the hill he strode once more, rfso lutely and apparently unperturt>ed, anti down again towarti the railroad track. There was yet a quarter hour before the through express for New York should thun der by. Owing to the hilliness of the locali ty the railroad was laid considerably below the level of the village proper, and to east and to west ran through deep cuts, which were bridged by stone viaducts where the country roaits should cross. Not far east of the station —the direction whence the 8:11 express would approach—was a place where the embankments were unusually high, and just beyond this a very abrupt curve. It was considered as much as one's life was worth to walk the track in this direc tion; yet a great many were often fool hardy enough to take it as a short cut to the next village. There were two tracks, hut little space between and hardly any at either side. The noise and the rush of wind from two trains passing were irresistible forces. Occasionally an inebriated wanderer suc cumbed. which nece-sitated the stopping of a train to gather up the fragments. The man the train ran over. As the 8:11 express—dueatU.in New York —came dancing along around the curve above mentioned, the engineer drew back from the cab window, swore a pious little oath, drove down the air brakes anu re versed the engine. “That's another done for, inside a month. Bill,” he said, complainingly, when the train had romp to a.stop. “Kiuxkedbim higher’n a kite, I guess.” The engine headlight had l>een noted from the station and several track hands and oth ers name running up to know the trouble. The express had backed hastily and the em ployes made diligent search. But all they sutx-oded in finding were fragments of re spectable wearing apparel; a battered hat and a tom top coat. The passengers and the train employes got aboad again. “Just what. I told you,” growled the en fineer, “knock'd him higher’n a kite. 'hey’ll find the body on top of the ’inbauk ment in the morning. How could I see him in timet Couldn’t tell till I turned the curve, and there he lay, 1 leafl on the right hand rail. There ought to be a law to ar rest folks that go on the track. ” As the train moved briskly past the sta tion and rattled along towam the city, a tall gent leman, one of those who had joined the employes who had run from the station to inquire the trouble, settled himself com fortably in a day coach and contemplated the haiids of his watch. He wore a topcoat buttoned closely over evening dress. Finding the body, “After all,” he mused, it’s a great com fort not to fail in one’s duty. Its a terrible thing to know that one’s paper is to be Ikmten through one’s own carelessness. I shall reach Pelmonico’R by 9 :”oat the latest. They will not hnvegotton past the oysters.” He out back his watch and gazed amiably at his ow n reflection ill the window, backed by tho outer dark. “1 wouldn't have worn the coat again," he murmured; “it was really needy. And 1 never liked the style of the hat'’ A Moonshine Distillery Captured. From the Griffin Nun. For some time past it has been known in oflicial circles that then: was an illicit dis tillery locuted somewhere near High Falls. Heveral attempts have been to discover its whereabouts, b>>t all in vain. Saturday, however, information was re ceived in tiiittiu that tlic still could be found in a certain place, naming it, but that cau tion must Is- exorcis'd in the capture. Mon day morning, bright and early, Collector Reynolds (Collector Trammell being sick), accompanied by Marshal Cray, proceeded to the place indicated by their informant. They searched around (he premises and house, but could llnd no trace of the reported distillery. They very naturally came to the conclusion that they had been thrown on a wrong scent, Much chagrined they started home and had gone some little distunes* when they espied t wo men coming across a hill carrying some heavy article. Hiding in a fence corner they awaited their coming, thinking they might ptosibly throw some light on the sup posed still. The men approached and passed within u tew feel o* the government otH elnft. but without noticing tlinn. Collector fe'yttolds noth ' and that the heavy article whi'/li the meti carried l>etween ’ them be longed to a still, and he at afire determined to follow them. The men proceeded some distance in the woods when they stop;icd, let their burden to the ground, and with a few preliminaries went to work distilling the "orphan maker.” Collector Reynolds and Marshal Cray a|>- |>enred U|Kin the scene and ‘arrested one of the men, la' making Ike resistance hat ever. The other escaped. The investigation disclosed a still perfect in its every part, but so hid and covered •is to only be found after minute search. The still had a capacity of sixty-live gallons. The still and fourteen stands of beer were dc-t roved. The captured man proved to be Joseph Hammock, for whom there was an old war rant out lor the same offense. Hammock was brought to Griffin mid carried to Macon, where he promptly’gave bond for his appearance before the United .States Court. The capture of this still reflects credit uixni Messrs. Reynolds and Crav. for it is well known that the men engaged at the still arc very desperate characters, and again, the promiscuous sale ot whisky has been a continued source of trouble to the people of that neighborhood. “Rough on Bile” Pills. Small granules, small dose, big results, pleasant in operation, don’t disturb the stomach. 10c. and fJ5c. ■ "Roug£ on Dirt.” Ask for “Bough on Dirt ” A perfect washing powder found at Inst! A harmless oxi rn tine A1 ajUyta* Aj*M'’ and clean, sweet en o-. without slightest injuri to finesflnbrie. Unequuled tor flue liuens-lh'l IaoUK general household, kitchen utid laundry |se. Woftcns water, Sava'S labor Hi&nnap. Added to starch piv veuta yellow i®. 5c.. lot.. Sjc. at grocers. THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, JUNE 5, 1887 —'TWELVE PALES. THE ROSE SCENT JAR. Some Things We Can Do In Hot Weather. N>:w Yokk. June 4.—’Tis a pity’ that so few housekeepers, comparatively, know the never-ending satisfaction to be derived from the possession of a rose scent jar, yet at the cost of a little painstaking they are within the reach of the majority. Nothing gives a more subtle, delightful perfume to an apartment than one of these jars, which should be ojiened every morn ing after the necessary’ cleaning and dust ing is finished, for an hour, then carefully closed. All your friends will ask: "What gives your rooms so delightful a fragrance f” It is such a pure yet delicious odor that it charms every one. The preparation of the rose stock should lie detailed to the care-taking member of the family’ who never forgets anv’thing. Gather the rose petals in the morning, let them stand in a cool place, tossed up lightly for one hour to dry off, then put them in layers with salt sprinkled over each layer into a large covered dish—a glass berry’ dish is a convenient receptacle. You can add to this for several mornings till you have enough stock—from one pint to a quart, according to size of jar—stir every morning and let the whole stand for ten days. Then trans fer it to a glass fruit jar, in the liottom of which you have placed two ounces of all spice, coarsely ground, and as much stick cinnamon, broken coarsely. This may stand now for six weeks, closely covered, when it is ready for the permanent jar, which may lie as pretty as your ingenuity can devise or your means purchase. Those with double covers are the best, and very pretty ones in the blue and white Japanese ware, I believe the dealers call it kaaga, holding over a quart, can lie bought for 700. Have ready one ounce each of cloves, all spice, cinnamon and mace, all ground (not fine), one ounce of orris root bruised and shredded, two ounces of lavender flowers and a small quantity of any other sweet scented dried flowers or herbs; mix to gether and put into the jar in alternate layers with the rose stock; add a few drops of oil of rose geranium or violet, and pour over the whole one-quarter pint of good cologne. This will last for years, though from time to time you may arid a little lavender or orange flower water, or any nice perfume, and some seasons a few fresh rose petals. You will derive a satisfaction from the labor only to be estimated by the liappy owners of similar jars. Ladies in the country might And it profit able to prepare the rose stock for city cus tomers. A cozy, sheltered corner on the veranda can be charmingly arranged by suspending the wide Japanese screens bet ween the posts. They can be found in our stores now from four to live feet wide, are coarsely but taste fully painted and very decorative in effect; they temper the light without excluding the air. In the choice of seats you must, of course, he governed by the space at your command. Where it is ample nothing is more delight ful than hammocks, but a low divan with cretonne cushions can find place anywhere. Steamer ( hail’s, with cretonne or canvas cushions tied in, are most luxurious and restful. Cushions and pillows for outdoor use must be fresh and bright, and the most artistic effect is obtained by using wash materials. Plush, satin and expensive embroideries are out of plaee. Coarse crash, with a bright stripe of cretonne down the centre put on with feather stitches in bright cottons, makes a very pretty chair cushion. It should lie all in one piece and cut about eighteen inches longer l han the chair; fringe out the ends and let them hang below the seat and over the bock of the chair. The cushion proper, to which this cover need be only basted, should be just the length of the chair, seat and back, and cotton batting tacked be tween old shelf cambric or unbleached muslin make the most comfortable cushion possible. W ithjn the house —for parlor, living room and library—tlio cushions cannot be too handsome nor too numerous. Variety and pretty effect can lie gained at small expense of time or labor by using the inexpensive brocades; these, in gold color or ridh Browns and olives, need hut a boit on one corner of bright contrasting colors and your cushion is done. Variety in shape can fdso bs at tained by making some of the Turkish hag cushions. These are very pretty when the open end is faced with a bright color, leav ing tho seam open to where the cover is ti<sl about the pillow and fastening one cor ner down with a bow of ribbon of the two colors. By all means have some cushions fillet witli fragrant fir buds—their odor is so pure, healthful and invigorating. One needs hut to close one’s eyes to fancy one's self on breezy mountain tops! A slumber robe of bright wools or silk patchwork thrown over back of couch or divan is most suggestive of comfort. A pretty change from the crazy quilts is to put, the silks together in stripes like a Roman sash. You can make these stripes any w idth, of course; then put them together with black or dark velvet ribbon. The Japanese screeds with fan pockets are a very effective decoration for summer parlors. The pockets should be filled w ith a variety of cheap Japanese fans, both open and shut; then you hive always a fan ready to hand your hot visitor and some thing to talk about besides the weather. E. A. F. WHITE GOWNS AND SAILOR hlts A Very Pretty Costume Some Other Fancies of Fashion. New York, June 4.—Now that the warm weather is actually upon us, summer costumes of tho lightest fabrics are to Ik* seen everywhere. During the past week cotton gowns have lieen in the ascendant, some of them very natty and tasty, others hideous layout! measure, all of them, however, pres.’iiting to view the inev itable Bishop s sleeve und the scant dra"]ie ries which make our dames and maidens look as if their newly purchased material hud, to us.' a dressmaker's expression, ‘•11111 short," it is certainly a convenient fashion, this last, cspieinlly for the great majority whose purses are by no means long, but 1 doulit il' any right minded prison—and we are all right-minded—would call it pretty or artis ti". I must confess to a w eakness for full, flowing rolies. Narrow undraped skirts that may lie designated as symphonies of verti cal lines, wen' surely never invented by any high priest of a*stlieticism But, then, few fashions ever were. The Greek costume whose advent was loudly heralded a short time ago appearsua remote ever. One ortwo women whose youth and Ix'uitty give them unrestricted liberty in mattorsof dress have adopted this style of gown, permanently we hope. But with these charming exceptions, Greek robes are conspicuous hv their nb senec. By the way, how rapid is the growth of the feminine sailor hat! There was a time when this es|H'cinl pattern of head gear was cm tills 1 to children and school girls. Rut alack a day we have changed all that! 1 Imp]icncd to lie in a milliner’s shop the other da.V where a white-haired and obese matron was buying a bonnet. Hav ing cnnpletcd her purchase, sic was alxmt to leave, when suddenly the modiste de tained her. “And how about a ‘sailor,’madam! Sure ly you will never bo able to get through the summer without a •sailor.’ ” The matron reflected and Anally bought the “sailor.” IVhat a sight she waa, too, when she put it on! Soon, perhaps, wcshall see somebody’s adipose grandmother in a Kate Greenaway frock and a baby’s sash. Clara Lanza. “Buchu-Paiba." Quick, complete cure, all annoying kid ney, bladder and urinary diseases, f 1 At druggists. •- HORSEY 31 EX A \ L) WOMEN. BLAKELY HALL SKETCHES SOME OF THE RACING TYPES. A Good Place to Study the Peculiari ties of the New Yorker Maurice Bern hardt and the Earl of Loudan—The Race-Going Woman. New York, June 4.—The opening of the racing season means a great deal to New York. Racing is a jiastiiue in which a very large iirojiortion of the citizens of the three cities which make up the metropolis are interested, and there is no better place to study the jieculiarities, eccentricities and oddities of New York men and women thaii ou a crack day on one of the great tracks. The opiening day of the new Brooklyn Jockey Club course was celebrated with a hurrah. The people who claim that there is no interest in racing in the public mind outside of the betting books of the gamblers should have seen the ‘JO,(DO people who thronged to the meeting, and who yelled like cyclones in every race, despite the fact that ho jxxjls were sold on the grounds. Exactly vfdiy pxxiis should not lie sold there when there are thirty or forty gambling houses in full blast in New York, city is one of the inscrutable mysteries of the present government of the town; but the fiat had gone forth and no pools were sold, It (lid not bar a few of the old race-goers from betting, however, as the bookmakers were on hand in force and quite willing to gratif y their old patrons with a little risk against the horse that “looks like a winner. ” When the boat left the pier at Thirty fourth street at 1 o’clock for the race, there were at least a thousand faces that were perfectly familiar to a lounger on Broad way or Fifth avenue. In one group were seven or eight of the more show}' and pros jierous gamblers of New York, talking quietly among themselvra, and nodding here aud there to their acquaintances. They were the most fashionably dressed men on the boat. Their attire was invariably abso lutely correct, and there was no show of flash jewelry or gaudiitess. None of them wore diamonds. They were a handsome set of men, well shaven, alert, easy in their manners and attired as fastidiously as though they were the race-going sons of great English families. One or two of them had the sallow and all-night look, but the rest seemed rosy and well-fed. The younger aud less successful gamblers looked at this particular group askance, for in it were the barons of their profession, and there was more or less envy in the glances that were cast about. A New Yorker with the racing craze. In another group were half a dozen New York pien who exhibited the racing craze at its apex. They were clad in the most elaborate of English race-going toggery. One wore a light derby . hat with a veil wound around it aud a check suit of clothes (if a decidedly horsey pattern. His white waistcoat was embroidered with blue horse shoes, and a diamond-studded saddle pin was in his yellow scarf, lie wore very small patent leather 1 loots with white dn'k overgaiters, dogskin gloves and a single glass. A pair of field glasses was strung by ’".a ./strap across his should ers, and an ivory betting book with a crest elaborately chased in gold on the cover protruded from the outer pocket of his coat. There were a number of ilien clad in such toggery as this, and most of them were heavy betters and well up in rac ing gossip. A few of the heavy-weight horse owners chatted quietly over near the port rail. They were all of them more or less known club men and patrons of sport ing events, and, singularly enough, they were dressed so much alike that they might almost have held a consultation before set ting out that morning. They wore dark coats, high hats, light trousers and the con ventional field glasses. They leaned ou their canes with hands that were incased in (lark-hued gloves, and indulged in a good deal of quiet "hatHng at the expense of the overdressed younger clubmen. The Earl of Loudau were a cheap little sack suit aud spent most of the time in conversing about the enormous mistake he had made in com ing out with a pair of light boots instead of heavy ones It was a subject that did not arouse a thrilling amount of interest. Maurice Bernhardt, the son of the divine Sara, was clad like a schoolboy in a blue sack suit, that showed off- bis athletic pro portions admirably. He wandered amiably from one group of men to the other and laughed agreeably with all of them. It is easy to understand the jxijiulmity of such a man. His face has a pasty sort of color—or rather no color at all—but his eyes are bright and he is exceedingly amiable and good-natumed. He already has hosts of friends in New York, and lie sneaks English quite as well as he does Frenoh. All the men about town that are such I familiar fixtures of the cafes and restaurants of New York tainted tip at the race meet ing looking precisely its they always do in New York. In about a minute after they entered the grounds most of them lnd suc ceeded in finding the bar, where their de votional exercises were continued without interruption. Every little whi'e a howling swell would drift along in the crowd. He was usually dressed in imitation of the Priueeof Wales’ favorite costume for race meetings: a sung, tight fitting 'rind square shouldered fivcfceoat, ligilt trousers, high hat aud a stunuiug boutonniere. He usually wore white gloves and walked along pen sively with lus betting Im ><ik in his hands, as t hey were clasped behind bis hack. At in tervals he would draw out his field glasses and study the distant horses ponderously, while the crowd looked at him with more iir less approval. Often, standing side by side with such a ninn would lx* a ragged, ill kempt and half-shaven old horseman, who was bowed to with great reverence by the jockeys, ami who, you wore apt to find out later, was one of the heaviest plungers ou the stretch. A howling ewell. The race-going woman is peculiar. Very few ladies at lend tho mot's regularly, though one is sure of seeing the gtxxl friends of the bookmakers, gamblers and sporting men, generally strewn through the grandstand, in more or less flashy attire. When a woman begin* to gamble slu ceases to be or namental, and it becomes a craze with her that is exceedingly difficult to master. Many of the women gamblers ou the staud that day have been known to race-goers for years and years. There were twenty or thirty fat old women with wrinkled faces and eager eyes who would talk horse till y ou couldn't -see,' and who apparently knew more about the probable winners than any bookmaker on the track. They were in variably accompanied by some effeminate faced aud half-fed looking man. who did t heir runniug about, and they talked gar rulously with every one. I remember, after the second face, I went up to the grand stand afal sank into a more or less secluded chair in the rear row for a quiet smoke. They were trying to start a field of 'J-year olds, and. as there were nineteen of them, it bade fair to lie a half hour’s work at the least. I looked in front of me, and saw row after row of maagniflcently dressed women chatting with the excitement of the sport with the people around them, and talking about the starters in the coming race. Sud denly, somebody' nudged my elbow, and look ing around I discovered a woman who must liave weighed at least 300 pounds, and who occupied the greater jxirtion of three chaii-s immediately to my left. Her face was wrinkled but amiable, and she smiled upon me with a buttery sweetness, as she said: “Hevings! how you have grown since I seen yer first, one' day at Jerome Park —the day Rhaiiamanthas ran ftameses.” “That’s a long while ago,” I said mistily. I had not the least idea who the woman was, but I remembered the 1 race very well. My companion nudged my arm again with the confidential air of a bulbous Sairey Gamp and said shrewdly: “Well, do you know what number Rhada manthus was on the card that day ?” “Of course not. I can scarcely remember his name.” “He was No, 1(5,” said my ponderous com panion mysteriously, “and this’day is the anniversary of that (lay. Sixteen was the dark winner then, and I’m a gointer back t No. 10 for the handicap to-day. I dreamed last night that, after the second race, I would have a dead tip to-day, and here it is puffeckly plain sailing. You come right up on the stand an’ set right tip beside of me and remind me of the whole thing. So, I play 16 on today’s card. See what nis name is.’’ “/ rushed upon the grand stand and shook hands with the old lady.'' I referred to the card and saw that the horse was Dry r Monojwle. We discussed his chances for a moment. Then I gave way to the superstition of my amiable and weighty acquaintance, called a bookmaker up to the grand stand, and asked him what he would do on Dry' Monopole. “Six to one for you,” said, he with a touch ing emphasis on tne you; and so both of us backed the horse. I went down the stretch just before they started, and found that every gambler, bookmaker and man of brains on the track was backing either Blue Wing or Exile. I did not say much about Dry Monojxile, but when the horses swept around into the homestretch and No. 16 headed the greatest string of 2-year olds that have ever run in this section and came in a clear winner, I rushed up to the grand stand and shook hands with the fat old •vomun with a degree of enthusiasm that causes me to turn hot and cold by turns now when I think of it. She was as thoroughly com posed as the sod across the stretch. “There was nothin’ wonderful about it at. all,” she said calmly, though she could not resist an evanescent smile as she rammed an enormous pile of bills into her reticule. “I dreamed I was going to have a tip, and had sense enough to take it when it came. When I don’t know enough to do that I’ll quit playin’ races.” But the smile was hilarious despite her words. Blakely Hall. Beauty Always Wins. From the Muydeburger Zeituug. Several gentlemen were seated the other (lay in a London Strangers’ Club, discussing the subject of female beauty. One of them. Sir Arthur McCatnur, expressed the opinion that, there was no situation of life in which a beautiful woman has not twice the success of her less attractive sister. Beginning with the stage at the top, upon which the beau tiful actress already has nidi the game in her hands, down to the ’common Ixggar womau in the streets, he.eloquently illus trated his thesis. wus not unanimous, however, and finally Count Patrick made a wager with Sir Arthur McCamur, which was carried out iu the fol lowing manner: A remarkably beautiful chambermaid of the club, aud 'at the same time a stewardess, plain almost to ugliness, were provided with precisely similar and common clothes and sent out to beg the whole afternoon iu an aristocratic ueighbor hoixl with instructions to meet again in the clitli at 9 o’clock. The gentlemen passed the time at tiie card table, but dawn still found them there with the cards in their hands and neither of the two beggars had returned. The reason of this turned out to be that both had shown themselves so inapt at their new business that they had lieen arrested by the jxilice and had passed the night in the cells. The two noble sportsmen Hppeunxl as witnesses and madca frank confession to the magistrate of the whbte affair. He there upon asked the beggars why t hey had con sented to such degradation.' They replied, because these gent lemen had promised them A’3 each if they would do so. The magis trate ajjtn\;oro4; “I am not here to judge of the miaous which have led anybody 'to com mit a breach of the law. what you have just admitted to me, so far from being an excnlpatiou, makes your cast* much worse than that of those who are compelled bv need and distress to week relief upon the streets in defiance of the law. You are both sentenced to eight days’ imprisonment. Per haps it may ixragrecahl'’ to those gentlemen ho have come forward as witnesses to learn Jiere in court the eases with which beauty Tuts nothing to do, and that it has not tho •lightest influence upon the decision of a judge.” ’* ‘ LEMON ELIXIR. A Pleasant Lemon Drink. Fifty cents and one dollar per bottle. Sold by druggists. Prepared by H. Muz ley, M. D., Atlanta, Ga. For biliousness and constipation take Lemon Elixir. For indigestion and foul stomach take Lemon Elixir. For sick aud nervous headaches tuke Lem on Elixir. For sleeplessness und nervousness take Lemon Elixir. For loss of appetite and debility take Lemon Elixir. For fevers, ehiUs and malaria, take Lemon Elixir, all of which diseases arise from a tor pid or diseased liver. A Prominent Minister Writes. After ten years of great suffering from indigestion, with great nervous prostration, biliousness, disordered kidneys and constipa tion, 1 have been cured t>y four bottles of Dr. Moziey’s Leuion Elixir; and am now a well man. Rev. V. U. Davis, Eld. M. K. CUut'eh ►south. No. 28 Tattnall street. Atlanta. Ga. wovBaHHpiNOS. A New l3dusjKS|.43 Beginning to AttaH^Bßbtion. New York, industry for women is itself in New York which ii my pHft'h toward solv ing; the vexed s.• rvq||j9|Hti<*tin. Some three months a good old New York fainiUi wnftated and capable, left a widow without money mid having served no apprenticeship to any of the in dustries by which women earn bread and butter, began to think of putting her pride in her pocket and turning her notable house keeping talents to account by looking for service iii a family as cook. Considering the matter further, it oc curred to her that she could do better. Se curing with some little effort, the project being a novel one, a clientage of half a dozen families in her immediate neighborhood that were groaning under dyspepsia induced by “light housekeeping,” she began to send out three times a day delicately cooked and daintily served meals. Her venture was so immediately successful that she looked up a New England housekeeper and a couple of stout-armed Swedish girls to help her, and her business sprang almost in a single night to the utmost dimensions that she could handle. Families that had tried the frizzled steak broiled by the green girl, families that were starving on meals elaborated over the flickering gas jet, families that had eaten “table board” in the basement dinihg-room around the corner, families whose pocket books groaned at the expense of the waiter load sent in from hotel or restaurant, fami lies whose heads were business women with out time for cooking, families tired of the annoyance of servants in a small flat were glad to be supplied with honest home cook ing, varied, palatable and at a reasonable price. She has twenty-one families on her list at present. I think, to whom she supplies just that wholesome round of breakfasts, lunches and dinners that the average housemother would offer to husband and little folks. Fruit in season in the morning, oatmeal or wheaten grits, fish, steak or chops; aside dish, such as stewed kidneys, sausage, liver or bacon; eggs; coffee, tea or chocolate, bread and butter, milk and sugar. Soup, fish, a roast, throe vegetables, desert and coffee make up the dinner, all of which is sent out at a cost of #7 a week to a single person, $5 each for members of families, though as what is supplied for two is suffi cient for three, the cost per household is not reckoned in multiples of that sum. In a way the experiment is one in co-operative housekeeping, for practically the cost of everyday living is divided among a number of families, purchases for all being made together, the labor for all systematized and simplified, and the waste of all minimized, the result being that each family saves nearly the full amount of its cook’s wages and is freed from the tyranny of Castle Garden besides. Two other women, emulous of the success of the first, talk of starting similar enter prises. The scheme is in its infancy, but whenever a sufficient number of families within a radius of a block or two, as near the great flat houses, can be interested in it, it has promise of an opening for an industry for women and of relief from divers per plexities for the families they serve. A UNIQUE SOUVENIR. A unique album is a souvenir of one of the latest of the spring weddings. Bound in white plush, with ivory clasps and the united monograms of bride and groom in great dew drops of pearls on its side, it holds a collection of pictures such as very possibly was never made before. Going back to the earliest meeting of the two who now are one, it shows on its first leaf the deck of the Fulda, on w hich happy ship they crossed the big pond together last June.- The steamer chair with her shawl thrown over it stands just as she pushed it back when she rose to take a turn with the newly introduced eli gible young man. Skipping then to the other side, the album gives views of an English cathedral or two that they chanced to visit together; of a gray day in’a London fog; of a youth and a maid whose faces look familiar in a boat in the lake region; of a Parisian street with the same pair out on a shopping expedition; of a gallery in the Louvre with, a couple not quite absorbed in the pictures; of a gay party with Alpen stocks that undertook a Swiss climb, and then, boldly jumping back across the At lantic again, of a couple of saddle horses in the park and an autumnal ride. The record for the winter is not so full, but it gives two or three suggestively cozy nooks in reception room and parlor, and the same young man and woman who have fig ured from the beginning of the volume in skating and toboggan costumes. The wed ding epoch is fully illustrated, the pictures giving the exterior of the church, the flower decked altar, the group of bridesmaids and ushers, the clergyman, the bride in her veil and groom in wedding suit, the moment of departure with showers of rice flying and the new hopie in which the couple will settle themselves in the fall. Iu all there at e some pictures, not mount ed on cards, but each daintily set iu a place especially prepared for it with border and pen and ink drawings after the manner of the extra illustrators. The album has ar tistic value aside from its worth as a souve nir, for not one of the photographs is u made-up group posed at a photographer’s. The pictures with the exception of the final ones were not taken with any view to their ultimate destination, but were chosen, when the volume Was put together, from collec tions made by the lovers and by members of the families on both sides, the two house holds I icing given over to amateur photog raphy and addicted to snapping the spring of a camera on any interesting group. All of which illustrates the fact that with the new detective camera now übroad m the land you never know when you are sitting for your picture and frequently get a more characteristic one than if you did! BKi MONEY IN A TROUSSEAU. I)o you know how easy it is to put SIO,OOO into a trou'sjjM; Here are some of the items of an fliiislugi u few days ago for one of fhMrly surnfar brides. Wedding gown, of ivdHHg* velvet, cut in a simple princesse shaMj(pltmg in lonir, straight folds from ne<k toWem. Angel sleeves tilled in with" lace; low corsage and vest front covered with lace; veil. Cost; dress, s“7s:2l,ice, *826; total. *9OO. Traveling dress, dark myrtle green tailor suit braided in gold: hat to correspond. Cost The wedded couple will spend a part of the summer at Newport; hence, yachting dress, short blue and white, wide striped flannel skirt.jio drapery, blue blouse, sailor hat. Cost *75. Visiting dress, French gray poplin, white satin vest and cuffs. Coat *175. Dinner or reception dress, a primrose yellow Bengaliue, with low-cut Reeamier waist, short sleeves, long train, druped with pale amber tulle dotted with anilier pend ants; sprays of pink roses and half collar of dark-red velvet. Cost *t>s<>. Ditto, hand run .silk nei. with pattern outlined in sil\ or beads druped over princesse slip of helio trope surah. Cost *SOO. Ditto, pale pink satin embossed in silver, lace ad libitum. Cast *825. Dancing drosses, a laurel pink gauze, a flower-striped crerie liane, a pale blue tulle dotted with iwarl beads, a flow ered 1\ ntteau silk and a lace draped over white satin. Cost *I,OOO. Three tea gowns, indescribable but smothered in lace and sti fled with ribbons. Cost $1,900. General utility gown, black satin with Chantilly lace and a good many pounds of jet, *325. Light fubrics in ginghams, sateens and fnulunls, five dresses, *250. Morning gown of white pomt d’esprit with several sets of riblxui sashes and bows, *12,5. For Lenox; laeer in the summer, three tennis gowns, white serge and combinations of rods and browns, cost $125. Cover coat, wrap, embroidered cash mere shoulder scarf, gloves, and assortment of bonnets and paranoia. $450. Total thus, far *7,7(10. With this assortment there be long slippers two pairs, boots and under wear. A dozen sets is all of the latter that the bride in question has laid in. all in fact that any lnoticrn bride indulges in. But the outlay is sufficiently formidable, consider ing that every garment is of the soft Imnd woven silk widt h is almost exclusively used now bv every woman who can [iay its price. The nightgown': have a Watteau plait in the back and a tucked yoke, and they, as well as every other article, are in ns v . shades, times, creams, the new Jz® P® l every other tint in vogue this spnV together with the lavish allowance of pure and Valenciennes bestowedunono^ 11 they bring the aggregate cost of woman’s trousseau very dangeroiwll the limit first set. She will 1*" near bride, but not one bit prettier then Thl 7 one young wife of the writer’s acquaint.,, she had had but *;55 with which to niakj herself sweet against her bridal day THE CONCORD SCHOOL. * Elizabeth Peabody, one of the W „* bygone generation of Bostonians is „i ning for the coming session of the , School of Philosophy as energetically she were not 80 years old and over an,n. ‘ f two sistei-s, the wives of Hawthoni. * Horace Mann, who with her made one of most interesting trios of women that a country has produced, had not dronred ts activities in the grave. With heMfe fashioned and abnormally rusty bonrud every new edition of which is yet more t h : despair and the comical pride of her friend than was the last, her white cotton glov and her black lace shawl, she isimS recognizable figure at every public mg of a philanthropic or philosophy sort’ There never was a kinder heart, and iusnm. directions there have been few clearer hen* than hers A good many people impose 0 n her nowadays, and more than one of proteges has turned out distressing v ~, grateful in the end. ° “ Another unique figure in Boston life i, Miss Hannah Stevenson, who years ago w a , Theodore Parker s amanuensis and intei leetual helpmate, supplying him on the men tal side what his wife did on the and who is now a kindly, gray-haired wo’, man, whom the girl students of Boston Uni versity like to visit and who for a number of years, as Treasurer of that long-named Society for the Promotion of the University Education of Women, put into the hands of some the means to continue their studies with a courtesy so kindly that the most sen. sitive accepted without question. PERSONAL POINTS. Of all the pretty sights to be seen on summer day one of the most picturesque the white-haired poet Whittier sittinguudor the vines on the porch of his house at Oak Knoll, Danvers, Mass., the little girl of his heart, the adopted daughter of his cousins the Johnsons, and the pet of the household’ playing about him, her bright, elfish face lifted in quick sympathy to liis. They say that newspaper women ars chiefly notable tor never dressing well. Of New York members of the guild, Mrs. Fan nie B, Merrill, of the Graphic, Mrs. Ger trude Garrison, editor of the American Press Association, and Mrs. Bowman, musi cal critic of the Sun, are marked exceptions to the rule, if rule it be. They all know how to choose their gowns, Mrs. Merrill especially doing so with unusual taste; Mrs Laura C. Holloway was never seen with a misfit; and of the correspondents, Oliva Logan has a passion for jewels, Clara Lama an exquisite sense of color fitness, and Lilian IV hi ting understands draperies as well as poems or pictures. Of the hobbies of women writers, Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett is devoted to old armor, Miss Mary L. Booth, of Harper's Bazar, to old coins; Mrs. Frank Leslie to laces, Jennie June to rare china, Anna Kath erine Green to illuminated books and old missals, and Mrs. Mary Mapes Dodge to rar prints. It is an interesting point as regards the Saturday half holiday movement that on* of its fruits on the first afternoon the law went into effect in New York was a woman's ear chewed off by her husband, who did not neglect the extra opportunity afforded him I to get drunk. There are plenty of husbands who did not chew their wives’ ears, how ever. E. P. H. A LARGE OFFER. e Mr. Barclay Refuses to Sell Bendigo for *620,000. From the London Telegraph. On Friday last Mr. H. T. Barclay, the owner of Bendigo, received a telegram from Mr. Harry Wright, of Fleet street, of fering him £20,000 down and other contin gencies for his noble steed. The contingen cies-in question are that Bendigo is to re main under the charge of Jousiffe, his pres ent trainer, until he has run out any en gagements for which Mr. Barclay may think proper to st vt him; that half of any stake that Bendigo may win shall be paid to Mr. Barclay, and, finally, that Mr. Bar clay shall have the annual privilege of send ing three mares gratis to his old favorite. I' is a splendid bid for, perhaps, the grandest horse in the world. We are aware of no in stance in which a horse, either in this or any other country, has ever been sold for ai large a sum as 15,000 guineas. The biggest prices actually given for horses were about £14,300 paid by Lord. Ihipplin to Mr. Gosden for Petrarch; £IV 000 piaid by the Duke of Westminster to Mr. Robert Peck for Doncaster; 12,500 guinea' paid by the Coliham Stud Company to th executors of Mr. Blenkirou for Blair Athol; and a like sum paid by Lord Hastings to Mr. Padwick for the worthless Kangaroo Iu three out of these four instances the pur chasers had the best of the bargain, bo™ Dupplin won the 2,000 guineas, the Doncas ter St. Leger, and one or two other small stakes with Pefrrarch: the Duke of M minster has to thank Doncaster for two Der bys, a 2,000, a 1,000 and a Doncaster st. Ledger, won by a son, a daughter, and a grandson of the Derby winner in 1873: Blair Athol, whose service fee ranged for many years from 100 to 200 guineas, is saxi to have recouped the Cobham Stud com pany twice over for his purchase nionu Kangaroo alone failed to pay one ot tM most spirited and princely patrons that to* turf has ever boasted, seeing that he new won a race for Ix>rd Hastings, and was eventually sold for a few sovereigns- Within our own time Mr. Henry BavUis said to have refused 15,000 guineas for ir more, Mr. Houldsworth a like su™ ‘ Springfield, and Mr. F. G ret ton 20,0 M ?'■ eas for Isonomy. It is doubtful, however, whether in any of these three instances offer, if it ever was made at all, was m in good faith. Each of the three o ntr _ question was a rich man, and wen known to be'passionately attached w horse. u. Bendigo was bred in 1880 b*T the tot# • • M. Tuylor, an' Irlahmun, and wassoldat Curragh In ISNito Mr. Connollvfoj' ~d . esc. fu 18*3 Mr. Barclay saw Bendigo* l " Curragh Bepteinber meeting, and love with him and at once purchased hi , 850 guineas. Down to that day the ~ , never run in public, and Mr, Barclay 1 h, , him by reason of his faultless shape , make. After running for the Lesarw; Bendigo coughed a few times, and t., put u strong blister upon his throat - wtripjied off the hair. But the k° l ' se , u left an oat between the two races, . the flag fell for the Cambridgeshire, row assured an old friend that Bendigo w to beat Medicus, the first favorite. „ Bendigo is one of the few sunn*** .. on the English turf who has kept on i r ,lng until his 7th year-a citj which the groat Lord Jersey would less have attributed to hisnevt'r been stripped in public until bis ton-® J No finer, sounder, or more courageous V mal than Bendigo ever answered a.l j call in this or any other country, at # natural that his sporting owner fowl of him as an Arab sheik is or j, (they sot more store by female tlian specimen* of the equine race in A trwa) sprung from the Prophet * £20,000 down is an altogether uup*r „ sum to offer even for such a horse, ' B it remembered, is hardly equal > , Priam or Plenipotentiary, to lou Bay Middleton, to Blair Athol or I The offer was declined in the folio*' 1 * terras. _ MM Turf Club, Piccadilly, 18 .—Dear Sir: I bavo only ju* vour letter, forwarded on to nw ny Your offer is most liberal in every but the old horse has been too F 1 ' f jfd to me to iiart, with him *7 J’wdbef 5 * things will have to be going veiy l ever do jj 1