The Land of the Afternoon. An old man sits in his garden chair, Watching the sunlit western sky. ‘What sees he in the blue depth there, ‘Where only the Isles of Memory lle? There are princely towers and castles high, There are gardens fairer than human ken, . There are happy children thronging by, Radiant women and stately men, Singing with voices of sweet attune The songs of the Land of the Afternoon, The old man watches a form of cloud That floats where the azue islands are, And he sees a homestead gray and loved, And a hand that beckons him afar, J, cheek of roses and hair of gold! 0, eyes of heaven's divinest blue! Long have ye lain in the graveyard mould But love is infinite, love is true; He will find her-—yes—1t must be soon; They will meet in the Land of the After- noon The sky has changed, and a wreck of cloud Is driving ath wart its troubled face, The golden mist is a trailing shroud; It is cold and bleak In the garden place, The old man smiles and droops his head. The thin hair blows from his wrinkled brow, The sunset radiance has appeared O er every wasted features now; One sigh exhales ilke a breath in June— He has fouggl the Land of the Afternoon. “Another girl!” ejaculated Mr, Si- mon Williams in answer to nurse’s an- nouncement. *‘*That makes four of em, and only two boys, and one of them weakly.” **This 1s a fine baby, sir,” said nurse, “and seems strong and lively. She's got some lungs of her own, I can tell have such a promising child,” she add- ed, with a little indignant inflection in her voice. “Of course I am,” said Mr. Williams In a more gracious fone, “You don’t suppose I wanted a fool or a eripple,but the fact is I'd set my mind ona boy, and girls are enough sight more in the way, unless they’ve got some snap to ’em, and precious little the other three have got, not a bit of my side of the house.” “I reckon this ome’ll have snap enough,” laughed the nurse, **if she goes on as she’s begun,” and she hast- ened back to attend to ber new charge. Said little bit of humanity was at present nothing but an apparently quiet bundle of flannel, pressed lovingly to the fence, then of a neighbor's shed, and finally of a stout pole that support- ed a large bird house, The mother held her breath as she saw her descend- kitten clinging to her, and relieved her overwrought feelings with tears, which greatly distressed Pauline. who promis. ed penitently with many caresses, never to attempt such a feat again, “I only thought how scared poor Kitty was,” she said, “and I didn’t feel the least afraid. She looked real thankful when she saw me.” From ten to fourteen, Pauline was her brother’s frequent companion in skating or rowing on the little pond half a mile away, or taking long tramps with him after berries, wild flowers or nuts, while the patient, much-enduring mother beheld with dismay the serious inroads made upon dresses and boots. “Let her alone!” said her father, in his more kindly moods, delighted that she bad so much life and energy, while at other times he called her an idle good-for-nothing, a useless member of the family, for Pauline found it diffi- cult to sit down to her sewing in the long, bright half-school days, or remain in the hot, close kitchen,long at a time. “Isaid I never wanted any more girls. We had enough already,” he would repeat when vexed at some lapse in these directions, or. when his some-what-tightly held purse was open- Pauline's much-abused wardrobe. and in the years which had passed since her unwelcome appearance, the eldest daughter had marred and gone toa western home, and John, the elder of the two sons, had house in a neigh? oring city, i “I’m glad, Rob, that you're not go- | ing away for a long time yet,” said Pauline, affectionately, when changes occurred. **I 8hould miss you | 80 much,” i *'I shall have to go by’me by, Paul’ responded Rob, “but I'll get a place near home, and then I can come back for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and perhaps spend Sundays, too, and when I'm a rich man we'll live together, and you shall keep housa for me, oaly you'll have to learn a lot of things before- hand, you know,’ he added, rather doubtfully, as he remembered Pauline ’s aversion to the kitchen and her sewing, **All right,’’ she answered. cheerful- ly. “I'll be settled down then, and I i the side of the pale mother, who sighed as she met nurse’s cheery glance, “1 suppose Mr. Williams is disap- pointed,’ she said, ‘“for he wanted a | boy so much, and it 1s a hard world for girls anyway,” “He'll like her well enough when he gets used to her, and sees how smart | and strong she is,”’ answered nurse en- couragingly. *‘I guess she wou’t be in the way much, only give her a chance, You jest go to sleep now, and when | you feel a little stronger you won't | mind his coming in to see baby.” Mr. Williams had really a good heart | underneath a somewhat rough and ir- i ritable exterior, but he was quite want- ing in the native refinement and gen- | erous nature which often made the cuntrast between himself and his wife | So apparent. His temper was at times | ungovernable, and his family dreaded | his presence when he allowed it to | master him. His children rarely gave | him their confidence, and the boys feared the ready blow which came al- | most as promptly as the harsh word, | while the daughters either submitted silently, or avoided exciting his dis. | pleasure. Forty years ago, whet this story be- | gins, the life of the daughters of a i family had very little range or scope, and the nurse’s words *‘only give her a chance,” meant a great deal more than they would to-day, when door after | door is opened to the girl as well as to her brother, Welcome or not, this blue eyed daughter had come to stay, and she showed it in every fibre of her positive | little body as time .went on. Her as- | sertion and aggressiveness, however, were redeemed by a warm, generous nature, and a readiness to make full amends for any little naughtiness, Mr. Williams himself did not com- plain of any lack of **snap’’ in this last of the four daughters, and was not quite certain whether to secretly sym- pathise or lose his temper, when she half defiantly resented an irritable, im- patient, or unjust rebuke on his part. *“She’s got lots of my side of the house in ber after all,” he thought with something of & secret chuckle, as he saw the sturdy little figure and uplift- ed head at such times, and noticed the deepening color of cheek and eyes, and the fearless glance with which she met his, There was some trouble in deciding upon a name, but Pauline was finally compromised on, in memory of a favo- rite sister of Mr. Williams, who had recently died. The length of this ap- pellation did not suit the little damsel, who insisted on calling herself “Paul,’’ aud after a while she went largely by that name amoung the children and her playmates, which caused various com- plications through having a boy’s name attached to a little girl, “i5he’s Just as good as a boy anyway, if she is only five years old,” sald the younger brother Rob one day, when this was being discussed. He was only four years older than herself, and was very fond of her, and nothing pleased the little maiden better than to coast with him on her small sled, or build snow men, and exchange snow balls in most lively fashion, **A regular Tom boy!” said the elder sisters, who felt very much as if some strange birding had shared the com- mon nest, But “Paul” only laughed and found vent for exuberant life and spirits by Shiai nim trees jug Sec, and even ppost near by, and “‘tear- ing through” the lane at the back of the house in a race with her brother and hus mates to see which could first todeh the old tree at the end of nee r mother’s t she fearlessly climbed on to the very ridge. pole of the barn to rescue a pet kitten which had gone up hy a grapetrellis and not daring to descend, mewed pite- ously till P went to her rescue, Unable to use the somewhat 1 * tall, the girl bad availed herself of won't feel as though 1 must get into tbe fresh, bright air, and just race about for the fun of it. Yecu see, al- it’s rather too bad to be shut up over to be just calling me all the time,” and | with a toss of her long, brown hair she through the lane. **That girl will break her neck, yet,” | said her father, fretfully,to his wife | “There she was this morn- ing In the horse-pasture, riding old Charley round at the top of his speed, | to guide | him, and astride of him like a boy. I just waved her hand to me and rattled across the pasture as though she didn’t hear me. Idon’t see what you are thinking about not to keep her more in- doors and busy like the other girls,” “Because,” answered the anxious- looking mother, who was quite used to being blamed on Pauline’s account, do half the It isn’t | hard enough I don’t see where she gets | from, and yet there's could not ba induced to because I haven't tried with her, *1 knew the moment I set eyes on 1e might as well Now neither one nor the other,” Yet when Pauline appeared a few minutes later with her school books under her arm; and a great bouquet of | wild flowers for her mother, which she | had gone quite out of her way to gather | her cheeks all aglow with her rapid | walk, and her deep, blue eyes bright | with health, the mother, who dearly loved this troublesome child, could not | say a word as to her recent escapade | with old Charley, but thanked her with a loving hug, “She's got such a good heart she can’t but come out all right,” thought | the mother silently as she placed the flowers in water. The years went by and Pauline and a | somewhat delicate sister were all of the | once large family of children left at | home. The second daughter was also | married, and Bob had persuaded his | father to let him enter a technical | school in the same city where John was, from which he could soon gradu- ate as a civil engineer. Pauline had missed her brother very much at first but she had been the confident of all bis hopes and plans, and as she realized how far his advanced education was taking bim out of one pert of her life, she easily persuaded him to repeat his German lessons with her when at home, and as she developed a decided taste for languages, she included in her high school course Latin and French, and thus felt that the beloved brother was not getting too far away from studies of mutual interest, At seventeen she had lost most of her Tomboyish ways, though she still dearly liked a long ramble or row on the pond with Rob in his vacations, and looked forward to a skating match with him in the Christmas holidays, Old Charley had been replaced by a much younger steed, which her mother and sister regarded with consderable tre- pidation, and consequently Pauline was more frequently her father’s companion in his drives, sharing as she did his love for a Spirited horse, Mr. Williams had long since accept-- ed the situation as regarded his super- fluous daughter, and in the absence of both sons, had learned to depend upon her for many little services which fg. creasing years and some infirmities re n « He bad been a «ood manager, and lived prudently on a moderate income for years without any regular business, the care of some real estate and the oulti of sev. eral Inherited fields just outside the town taking most of his time. The latter provided hay for a horse and cow, and the vegetables for family use, While the boys were at home little help washired about the place, but now a stout, somewhat solid young German had charge of the grounds and stable, who was greatly delighted that Pauline could understand him in his native tongue. “The Fraulein,” as Hans called her, was to him the most won- derful lady he knew of, and he ad- mired the deft way in which she assist. ed in harnessing Prince, when in too much of a hurry to wait for his slow movements, Her early out-of door life and exer- cise had given her an erect, graceful figure, and her bright, intellectual face and frank ways made her a general favorite. Her old impetuous manner and almost restless energy were no longer apparent. A deeper life and more earnest purpose were stirring the currents of the young girl's dawning womanhood, and her mother’s heart silently rejoiced over this daughter whom she secretly acknowledged as the dearest of her children, if she could possibly allow herself to make any dis- crimination. The day she graduated from her high school as the valedicto- nan of her class, looking so radiently fresh and fair as she came forward to receive her well earned diploma, her her with a feeling of pride and a new realization of what she really was to him, himself recalling the nurse who bad brought him the un- welcome news. **God forgive me,” he She brightens up the whole bouse,”’ ous girl, and when, in less than a year was suddenly snatched from and the confirmed Invalidism of CRANKS AT THE MINT, Silly Men and Women Hunting Por Mythical Millions. Lots of eranks visit the Philadelphia Mint. The majority look sensible, and are well dressed, but somecan be iden- tified as insane at the distance of & block, and the attire of these are in keeping with their disordered intellects, Men and women who are a littls “gone In the upper story,” as the poet puts it, go to the Mint usually with but one er- rand-—to collect thousands of millions of dollars which they firmly belleve is there deposited to their credit. Most of them are from the city or vicinity, but once in a while one puts in appear- ance who has come a goodly distance by rail to get money supposed to be all ready. By long and painful experience the jolly chief usher of the Mint has been le1 to adopt one unvarying mode of treating his cranky visitors. He | don’t fling them into the street. He | don’t even order them away, or advise them to go toa place where intellects are cheaply repaired, but mstead, he agrees to all they say, acknowledges | that there are tens of thousands of mil- | lions of dollars, as the case may be, | waiting for them, and then gets rid of | them by some polite excuse for tem- | porary delay in payment of their claims or sends them upon fool's errands to | See government officials who exist only in imagination. | Reeentlya lady with a wall eye, a own grief for his sake, and giving WAY mands made upon her had she her chamber the strength which Him who doth not **She’s just the dearest and pluckiest her.” 80, when he did see her, as curiosity at first led him to do, but it was some- be his wife, Her sister had soon mother, and her father’s health seem- suit. “I am his youngest child, and the never feel a want that I can supply.” promise you I will bo as a son to him." where but here,” she replied, “and he is peculiar and would be miserably un- happy to share oy love and care with another. Besides we are both young and you have hardly entered jour pro fession.”’ Hufus sought Rob, and begged him to convince Pauline that her father would be just as happy with him as in his own home. “It’s of no use,” said. Bob. Pauline has made up her mind, that ends it. I never saw the time when self came first with her, and her pa- tience with father’s ways isunbounded. “1f I've heard Say many a time, when he was pro- street steps of the Mint and demanded | ‘‘He is out,” sald the chief usher, | “When will he be asked fiercely, “I don’t know, madame.” “Show me the chief clerk?” **He has gone to lunch.” “When will he be in?" ‘‘In a couple of hours, Call again.” “I'll wait,” said the lady with the unfurnished skull. “I have $25,000 here on deposit. 1'm going to draw it in?” she shie sat firmly down upon a leather cov- | ered chair, | By persuading her to let her money | lie a day or two in order to “draw In- terest,” she was Induced to depart, Not long ago a clean shaven gentle | typical man of business, came to the Mint and asked to see the cashier. He | "I am Gen. Jackson," said the visitor, | here, placed to my credit by my friend, the Baron Alphonse de Rothschild of | Paris.” “Ah, General, glad to see you. Your money’s all right. “But 1 want to take it away,” “Nowr" “Right off.” “1 am sorry," said the official, *“*but | the fact is we have nothing we could give you except smilver. Your deposit would fil several wagons. Leave your address and we will send it.” “Gen, Jackson, thanked his inform. ant, wrote Johin———, 11 — Girard Av- enue; and left in the confident expecta~ tion of seeing his three millions carted home, Some years ago, when the chief usher of the Mist hadn't had very mach ex- Be | fierce and and Mint body the man with a spare mustache, strode into fus, “and I'll wait for her as long as It was nearly five years before Pau- line's dutiful and loving care of her father ceased. She had become as the very apple of his eye, and almost last words were those of thanks and vlessing for the once superfluous daugh- “‘Seem’s though,” said faithful old left there, “Get out. You have no money here. * “De you think I'm a fool? Don't I know what's what. I tell you the money belongs to me, Hand it over, or 1'll-—"" And the visitor stepped forward, glowing with indignation, with his fist upraised, He was pacified aod told fo go was due at 2 r. M., by Trenton steamer, a A As Paper Pulleys. A new use has been found for many years, “‘he couldn't bear her out of his sight those last days. Times had happy children of her own, not one of whom but was welcome into the world which will surely be the better and brighter for their being m it. his home with his sister, *‘She promis. Indianapolis, Indiana. for these pulleys were issued to FE. 1. Martindale last October, pasted and pressed into a solid block: of thickness to give it the required strength, and this web surrounded with the riveted through the rim and the paper. By actual test, it has been found that the rim having a uniform bearing upon The for me sort of second hand, you know. *’ The children think that Uncle Bob 1a just perfection, and could never by any possiblity belong anywhere else. AID AO first unmarried man she meets she will surely wed. The first gentleman she meets after counting ninety-nine white horses and one white mule, is her be. trothed, The first gentleman passing through a doorway, over which is a putting it there will be married within a year. If nine stars are counted for nine successive nights, the next single gentleman that meets the fair one who did the counting is entitled to her heart, hand and fortune, if he is only brave enough to ask it. These are only a few of the many superstitions the members of the fair sex have of deciding their fate, The latest is to keep account of the number of young gentlemen who tip their hats to them, and the forty-first tip is the lucky or unlucky one, ~-Nevada, the dam of Luke Black- burn, bas Leen bred to George Kinney, of paper. One is constructed with a web or body the same as that used for an fron faced pulley, and this web forms a part of the face. Paper or pasteboard is then cut into rings and pasted and The rim thus formed is riveted The other is constructed in much 1 —— I sei w——" ~=3"08l8 Of cream or milk-white silk are worn with dark dresses of wool or silk. These are pleated from the throat down, or cut smooth and trimmed with gold or silver braid, rows of very nar- row black velvet ribbon, or s mply finished with a single row of mother-o’- pearl buttons. Full Moliere vests of soft, white china crape or white crepe de chine are also used as vests upon bodices of elegant black evening dresses of faille, satin or lace. White moire is noted upon stylish evening dresses of black velvet, this material used as waistcoat, panels and wide sash drap- ery, Pearl ornaments and large clus ters of white roses make a charming addition to this elegant “m ” Sales, Wack satin manda, pv silk hose, a large Portia fan black and white gauge completing the details. — lica and Clingstone prob- ly oe in July, wll FASHION NOTES. -- Beaded culrass bodices in rich de. signs are worn over the dress bodice, ! i i i aration have sleeves that are visible, ~Overdresses of corde de la reine are worn with skirts of plain velveteen, ~Beige in gray, brown and biscuit Wear, ~(iauze ribbons, striped and figured, poses, — Very elegant are the buttons of eut the waist, Walking costumes of summer serge or cheviot are made with a pleated skirt; a second skirt, much shorter, HORSE NOTES. ~Dexter's teeth are badly worn, and some care has to be taken with his ~ —Filzpatrick, of the Kittson stable, 18 now in the West, riding for the Cor- —There are reported to be twelve ; 2000 guaranteed stakes of the Cleveland Course, —Isidor Cohnfeld drove Minnie War. 3 333 over Fleetwood this week, : ~A movement is on foot to erect a the back, a peak both in front and at the back. It is trimmed with a col'ar and ruffle of woolen lace to match. transparent textiles are new summer Satins In a number of pale beautiful rose tints and exquisite mauve dyes, to be used as princesse ships under black or white lace dresses. Primrose, amber, are all fashionably used for satin slips under black lace toilets, For “second’’ mourning, slips of pearl, dove or violet are largely used by fashionable dress- seaside costume of over cashmere, - A handsome lace, It is slightly waist is of cashmere, with two rows of bordered black velvet. A large straw hat, trim- with this costume. ~—Sangher and other crape-like tis. side. The bodice is in the shape of a close into revers, and showing a plastron of The sleeve-facings are also of pekin 10 —Frise velvet on beige etamine, or pale aimond-colored canvas grounds, at Chester, Orange county, N. Y. — Westchester Girl, one of the entries to the 3-minute class at Suffolk, trotted a mile In 2.26 ar New York this week, ~~ X Alto colts and shipment fillies of the Palo died of pneumonia fornia 10 New York, —The track of the Chicago Driving Park 18 built on leased ground, and the lease, which will expire next year, 18 not likely to be renewed. ~The once famous trotter Young Bruno, 2.22%. is now owned by C, N. J., and the well and sound, ~The trotting mare Sunset, in owned by A. Cooper. fell the stabls floor at Oswego, on the Gh, and was killed. W. Wilson's filly by Falsetto, after gelling off seventh, finished second in the purse stakes at Lexington, Ky., on the 5th. — Messenger Chief and Rienz looking finely and doing well, also number of brood foal, through N.Y, —{z, Lauragie, ale as mares Ky. —B. J. Treacy, of Lexington. Ky, recently sold to Mrs. Squires, o New York, the 53-year-old colt Almont Messenger, by Messenger Chief. Price spuns are shown with plain grounds for the overdress with stripes en suite for lower skirts, Summer cheviots are Jaltic blue, wood-brown, ecru, hunt- ers’ green and beige, with borders in palierns, These or all general occa- sions, ~—A superb summer wrap, just im- ported, is made of amber silk canvas, brocaded with golden bronze velvet patterns in heavy raised Byzantine de signs, and trimmed with golden brown silk lace of the same pattern, mingled with bronze and amber rosary beads. Another wrap of cream colored Vene- tian canvas, brocaded with gold, olive, iental designs, has a bordered decora- tion of appliques in beadwork wrought upon a groundwork of plain deep red wrap, This decoration nearly covers the front of the wrap, which is made with “stole” fronts, and also comprises bordering to the sabot sleeves, ~among the most fashionable ma notice sanglier, a sort of rough woolen of various kinds; some of them with open-work stripes; and Norwich pet, resembles thick net. There are also a variety of striped pekins, for, as we have several times repeated since the opening of the season, stripes are ex. tremely fashionable, though, of course, not exclusively so, for one would soon get tired of wearing none but striped dresses. In fact, nothing is exclusive in modern fashion, and personal taste and fancy have full scope to exercise themselves. Plain fabrics are in great favor, and if the new striped and open- wor< tissues are in vogue this does not prevent seif-colored ones from being also employed, It depends, of course, very much upon the style of costume, For a walking costume a plain mater- ial Is best, and should be made up quite simply; while for a visting costume a fancy striped or opsn-work fabric can be very prettily combined with plain silk, Indian silks, thin and soft, known by the names of foulard, surah, pongee, ete., are used as lining or underskirts to fancy net or guipurelike woolen ma- terials—those are of an open- work pattern absolutely require some sort of silk lining. The silk skirt is made quite si y either gathered or pleated around walst, The lace- is slit open on the left side; in front it is slightly draped, and the folds are fastened up on the right hip with a flow of ribbon; on the opposi slit it falls yA —Budd Hayden, whose training sta- near Harrodsburg, Ky., a Z-year-old [lilly by Rienzi that Quarters in 41 seconds, and promises 0 be very fast. —H. Clay Mock, of Danville. Ry., has forty colts And fillies on his farm, them are by Messenger Chief He says they are doing finely this season, 18 has * pry d IOUS —Mr. Straus has declined the invita- tion to trot Majolica against Harry Wilkes on the track of the Dri ng Club York in J purse, Vi The n ilie, ugh. Aas training, fs among without 5 or better, ~-Orit Davis, Harrodsburg, Ky.. kb thirty-six horses and colts in and has five horses 8 that can trot in 2.2 Maxey Cobb was 11 he died at Belmont Course, having been foaled in 1875. He was god by Happy Medium, dam Lady Jenkins, by Black Jack (Prince Nebo). son of Long Island Black Hawk. He was bred by Harrison Robbins, of Philadel- phia, and passed through the hands of Edward Pyle, R. 8S. Maloneyand A. H. Swan, to Isidor Conhnfeld, of New York, by whom he was owned when he died. Speaking of the dead stallion, the Spirit of the Tunes says: “Maxey Cobb inherited speed from sire and dam, Happy Medium got a 6-year-old record of 2. 1 1869, Lady Jenkins had no experience as a public performer, but was very speedy on the road. Her grandsire, Long Island Black Hawk, was the founder of the family that bears bis name. From his loins came Andrew Jackson, Jr., Dandy, Jupiter, Mohawk, Nonpareil and Plow Bov. all sires fast trotters, and a hos of descendants, male and female, that have sired and produced speedy per- formers, them, record years old when 1 of —80 great is the interest felt in the great Eclipse Stakes, to be run at the coming St. Louis meeting, that the managers of the Fair Association have published for distribution a complete record of the performances of horses By this it is seen that Free- land bas started in 55 races and won 31; Modesty has started in 42 and won Hazaras has started in 20 and Pontiac has started {in America) in 22 and won 9: Editor has started in 25 and won 6; Clay Pate has started in 25 and won 6; Monogram has started in 51 races, of which he has won 21; John A., the Californian, has ran in 12 races and won 7; Philip S., has started in 24 races and won 10: W. B. Woodward bas started in 23 races and won 7; Troubadoar has started in 36 races and won 12; Freeman has started in 0 races and won 3; Kirkman has started in 12 races and won 9. Alta bas started in 19 races and won 9; Dinette bas started in 33 races and won 13; Grey Cloud has started in 10 races and won 6; Lucky B. has started in 51 races and won iI: Volante bas started in 25 races and won 9: Rapido has started in 34 races and won 12; Silver Cloud has started In 14 races and won 2, ~The sale of Coldstream Farm thoroughbreds, juoperty 0 John 8. Clark, Lexington, Ky., took place May Tth at Treacy & Wilson's stable. B. C. Ezekiel, 2 years old, by Hindoo, was sold for $3000 to A. G. McCampbell. Louisville, Ky., who also purchased the 22-year-old colts Gilpin, by King Ban, for $1500, and Bob Kelly, a rull brother to Ripple, for $1525. A yearling Ten Broeck colt, out of Queen Maud, and a yearling by Longfellow, out of Kat filly by Phaeton Stock
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers