In the Shadows. Day by day the shadows lengthen In the way-— Glory no more serves to strengthen For the fray. Summer flowers have lost their sweetness; Summer bours their charming fleetness; Nothing reaches ita completenass, But decay. Find we only shrines long broken, Gray with mold; Shattered hopes and vows unspoken, Griefs ne'er told. Btately ruins wherein lingers Many a form whose specter flugers Point us to love's once bright embers— Damp and cold. Ob! for faith whose clearer vision Through the gloom Bees the radiant fields elysinm In their bloom. Faith that grief can weaken never; Faith so strong {it points us ever To the lights that shine forever Q’er the tomb Thus we cry—calling, calling, In our pain— Till about us, softly falling, Like sweet rain, Peace drops gently down from heaven; Clouds of doubt and grief ars riven, Aud unto our life is given i Rest again. A ————— oT ———————— POLES APART. i i i i give up her hohday till they were all gone again. She was writing notes for a great garden party, when the little girls burst in upon her in wild excite. ment. “Oh, Miss Howard! only think Sir Richie is coming—our own dear Sir Richie. Isn’t it lovely!’ they cried. “*And who may Sir Richie be?” in- quired Miss Howard, very composedly directing another envelope, “Not know our own Sir Richie? Why, everybody knows him. He plays tennis with us, and rows us onthe lake, and buys us dolls! Fancy, mamma, Miss Howard does not know our own darling Sir Richie!” **Miss Howard has been out of socie- ty so long that there 1s an excuse for her not knowing at least the name of Sir Richard Fellowes,” responded Mrs, Boucher. The pen rolled over upon the newly addressed envelopes and ruined two. Howard could gasp out. engineer. Ie had his ferred a few months ago, when he fin Is it possille you're never heard name? Why, he was one of the lions of Dick Fellowes flung himself back | against the frail door post of the sum- | mer house till the airy building rocked to its foundation. “Say one kind word Stella, My love may not seem much to you, but at least it 1a the best I have to give,’”’ he said earnestly, looking very white and hurt. Stella Howard, sitting sweet and calm in her white gown and pearls, half glanced toward her impetuous lover, then dropped her blue eyes again with a suspicion of a dainty shudder. Dick’s hands were so very big and | red, and his evening dress looked as ir | 1t hal come out of the ark, Of course he was very good and nice, and Stella did not mind his clumsy little atten- tions when no one more interesting was at hand: but to be made love to bya big, awkward, young civil engineer working on the new railway line! a creature who couldn’t sing, or ride, or play billiards; who entered a room like a wandering elephant, and was forever buried in diagrams and calculations, instead of talking society chatter! Stal- ia could not help feeling 1t a decided | Liberty on Dick Fellowes’ part to im- agine himself entitled to love Col. How- ard’s only daughter, and, she heartily wished she had never suggested his be- ng invited to dinner—at which he had overturned a glass of Chablis over her new lace flounce—or consented to show him the garden in the soft sunset glow of that June evening. “I don't know what to say. I've told | you it isn’t the least use, Mr. Fellowes, your life and mine are poles apart; we can’t make them meet, [I'm very sorry you should be pained. Try to forget it all,” she answered, trying not to show her disdain too plainly. “Forget!” echoed Fellowes, the blood rushing to his temples. ** No, that’s not likely. I tell you while you live no man will love you as I have done. Good-by Stella; I can’t stand any more. Heaven bless you, although you are so cruel!” And he was out of sight down the garden path before Stella could have stopped him, even had she so wished. What curiously abrupt manners he had thought she, as she made her way to the drawing-room through the sweet- scented roses to sing the song Capt. Thurlow had begged for in a whisper as she left the table. How odd to leave without bidding good-by! And he was leaving Churlstone the next day, she knew, Capt. Thurlow’s polished manner was a positive relief after such be- | havior, and as he turned the pages of | the “Bohemian Girl,” and murmured compliments into Stella Howard's well | pleased ear, Dick Fellowes and his | wooing faded from her mind like a dis- | agreeable dream. Only once did she hear his name in| the two years that followed, and that was in connection with some scheme of some proposed government work and he was called **Mr, Fellowes, the well. known and rising engineer.”’ Dick rising! Stella was sensible of a | little shock of intense wonder. But there was very little time for any thought of the outside world after that. Col. Howard died in Afghanis. tan, and Stella found herself a penni- less orphan, dependent on the distant relations with whom she lived. Even in all her sorrow and despair there was a little ray of comfort in the thought of Capt. Thurlow, Truly there was one strong arm and brave heart that would not fail her. But Capt. Thurlow was endowed with a knowledge of the world, which made him keenly aware of the nice difference between Miss Howard the pretty daughter of his reputedly wealthy colonel, and Miss Howard the penni- less orphan. His engagement to a Lancashire manufacturer’s daughter was in all the society papers within a fortnight; and as Stella tried to crush out the mortification snd resentment from her heart which seemed full to overflowing, there sounded in har ears, ns if were a prophesy, Dick Fellowes’ parting words, “No one will ever love you as I have done.”’ Was it all the perversity of a woman's nature that made Stella's memory dwell 80 often and eo kindly on the recollection of that wooing as time went on? In the old days life had held so much love for her that Dick’s seemed a thing little worth the having now that she was that lonely thing, A governess in other people’s houses, she wondered how she could have despised any love 80 honest and so true, and her recollection Not that her lot was as hard as that of many; indeed, the Bouchers were very kind to her. full for Jand Stella had guia old friends, and he is wonderfully fond of the children, Can it bs you have never heard of him, really?" “1—I met him some years Stella managed to falter, “Then people would think you for- tunate. However, I fear you have much chance to renew your old acquaintance; Sir Richie is such an ob- ject of attention from both debutantes and chaperon He is one of the great partis of the season, von Know.”’ And Mrs. Boucher laughed a little good-natured laugh. Gladly would Scella have hidden her- in distant school-room that night, and pleaded neuralgia, or any for a broken heart, rather than enter the crowded drawing room, whence the soft flow of voices floated out of the open window over to her own room in the wing, ‘But Mrs. Boucher had told her they would want some singing, and governesses must not induige their feelings when other people’s entertainment are at stake, Stella’s heart seemed beating in her ears as she entered the great drawing- room behind a tray of coffee cups, and in a sheltered nook near the ago,” 1p > a sell ner t she could see nothing clearly, he rose shaded lamps threw so dim a light, then she grew aware of a group of smiling interested people, all bestow- ing their most gracious smiles and at tentions on a tall figure in their mudst, Could that be Dick ¥Fellowes—that broad shouldered man with the brown moustache and close cropped, curly head, who moved and looked and spoke like a man confident of his own powers and used to and succeed to please? Stella thought of the lll-fitting garments of old days as she noticed the shapely cut of his coat collar and the grace of self posses sion in his every moyement. Dick had red hands and big boots, and suggested abullin a china shop. Was there some mistake after all? A moment, and then raised his head, and she caught the old merry smile and the flash of the quick gray eyes; and bewildered with a rash of recollection, Sella made her way to the piano in obedience to Mrs. Boa- cher’s smile and nod. Why bad Mrs, Boucher asked her to sing “Golden Days?” It was Dick's favorite song long ago, and Stalla felt as if it would her, Her volce so that Mrs, Boucher’s guests thought that their hostess had a good deal over-praised her governess’ style, and a Miss Verney near by remarked to Sir Richard Fellowes that she did not admire that tremolo kind of manner 80 many girls affected, ‘TAR for the golden days beyond recalling! Al for the golden days!” sang Stella, with something that was hie he choke fallen forever in her own respect. There most casual was standing close to the plano. sides, and then Stella got away some- how to her own quarters, to find vent overcame all her self control. The next day was to be the grand garden party. Miss Howard was sup- Joved to be unostentatiously in the kground, dressed in her best, to keep a supervision over her little pu- pils, Ethel and Maud, wild with de- light hastened her out to the tennis lawn long before any one could pos- sibly be expected to arrive. “Just one little game before the peo- ple come to the grounds, Miss Howard. You know we may not play when all the grown-up people are here, and we do so want a little tiny game,” begged the children. Miss Howard, mindful of her best cream gown and the difficulties of ten- nis when combined with long gloves and plumed hat, vainly endeavored to escape. “Only a little scrap of play. Abl you know you can’t refuse,” they said, And Stella was forced to laugh and yield to their entreaties, So that the picture that met the eyes ot the lle gustismen who sauntered own shrub th amoung the fragrant syringias, BF tact the cor. ner of the terrace steps—a girl's figure in a creamy gown, vivid in the hot sun against the trees and shrubbery; a shade hat which threw into relief the crisp, bronze hair and the soft flush on her cheek, a racquet poised aloft, and a flutter of white winged pigeons toward the dark blue sky. He short as if spell bound, "Oh, Sir Richie, you're jast in time? Come al and have a with Miss Howard-—do, do!” cried the children. Stella turned with a violent start; the racquet sli from her gloved hand and struck her left wrist a violent blow, The turned her fant and dy, and felt herself grow white wig vary lips. "ahi 0, NO, young woman the voice that was so like, yet hoa ike the voice of other days say "Miss Howard won’t play with me-—she never would,” Then he turned to her with a sudden change from the laughing tone: ““Have you hurt your arm? Iam afraid I startled you;” and he came forward hastily, But Stella drew away as he approach- ed. *““Nothing—I1t is nothing; pray don’t trouble yourself,’ ’she said almost cross- ly. And as a stream of gayly dressed people emerged from the conservatory, and began to spread themselves over the terrace and approach the lawn, Stella turned and fled into the shrub- bery. statue of the dancing faun before she was overtaken. { tone that was certainly not was too commanding. | to contradict you, but I can’t believe it is nothing.” And in another moment the bruised wrist from which he had strip- ped the glove was in Sir Richards firm, dered. **Sit down here,” was the order, and she found herself placed on the mossy step of the old fountain, while with | quick, deft fingers Sir Richard dipped { his handkerchief in the cool water and { bound it round the slender wrist, Could it be Dick? Was it not all a mocking dream? Stella could only hope with all her might that the awakening might be long delayed. The splash of water in the old stone basin and the mysterious whispers of the pines overhead, were the only sounds that broke the summer stillness, 4 them to alone, Did Dick the last time remember and sat down on the her side, **Stella, do you shrink from me st After all the years I have been work- ing and toiling to be worthier of you, am I no nearer the goal than when we last parted? Must I ask in vain asl did then, for the least little word?" he sald slowly and gravely. Not a movement, not a sound he shrinking figure at his side, ace grew graver still, and he bit ii? iid from His his *“*Am I to go away again, then?’ he asked after a pause, Still no answer. With a sudden impulse stopped and peered under hat that hid her eyes from him. “What! crying Stella!” He the moss, “Have I made you cry? darling! my own!” He was trying to arins, but she herself, **Ah, Dick, I told you lives were poles apart. then but it has coms mured brokenly. **If it had, which I deny, the rela. tive positions would be the same. You are as you have always been, 8 wi above me in all t ove can bridge any gulf, Staslla Won't you let me try? It is my trade, you know." And then she struggled no longer. “Dick,” she whispered by and by, when conversation had bad time to be- come a trifle absorbing, **do you remnember what you said that night at Churistone? You told me no man would ever love me as you have done I didn’t believe it then, but 1 know now that you were right.” “Did I say that?" he asked, laugh- ing. “Well, yes, I was right, 1 dare say—only I put it into the wrong tense. What I should have said was, not *as 1 have done,” but ‘as 1 do, and shall keep on doing as long as the world shall last.” And that would have Leen truer still, my guiding star; so let it stand | like that in the future,” And that point was settled without | opposition once and for always. Sr — AIA ———————— « Sir Richard the broad Was on My 1s take sb vey 1 { struggled her in his to her feet once that our It 18 t was fais true, she mur- wid ’ & 2 v hings. Ba Youn less A Kentuckian Not a Colonel. — | recently. “No,” was the reply; “tell us about Be well-known Covingtonian, “Hallam is | & very bright man; would be in Con- are great friends, “Some time ago somebody Hallam Colonel, and he professed to be greatly alarmed at the prospect of get. the great myriads of Kentucky colonels. So he applied to the present Governor, title of ‘mister.’ The pledge was kept, and Hallam now has his commission, made out in due form, with seal and signature, regularly appointing Hon. T. F. Hallam to a position on the staff of the Governor, with the rank and title of ‘mister.’ Hallam claims to be the only man of that rank and title in Kentucky.” A Queer Animal from Japan. An animal whose .dentity is at present unknown there, was landed in San Francisco lately from the interior of Japan, where it first saw the light of day. Ata glance the curiosity might be taken for either a dog or a monkey. It 1s shaped like the former about the head and neck, but otherwise some. what resembles the monkey. The animal's favorite position is on its baunches, but with a little urging it stands on its four feet, the body sloping downward the head like a giulle. The claws of the four feet are ike those of a dog, but two extra pairs are furnished on the hind of inches above the balls The animal has a strong, it gives when it up. ERE. a couple to be we felt. u “keyed bark, which 8 attempt to stir Rose Benton's Courtship. “You see, Busan,’ said Farmer Ben- ton, appealing to his wife in his perplexity. “I orter be in the medder to-morrow mornin’ by 4 o'clock and eut that grass while the dew’s on it, Aud thenthere’s the peas and beans orter go to market; they won't be no better by waitin’ any longer, and the prices are fallin’ every day. I dunno what ter do, allus comes in a heap,’ “An’ you can’t spare Joel---he orter sell ‘em and get back by 10 o'clock, “No He must go inter the medder with me,”’ At this moment pretty little Benton—the blue-eyed, rosy-cheeked teacher of the Elverton school, who was as usual, at her ~came to the rescue, “Let me go, Uncle James,’ she coaxingly, “I'll sell them ever so nicely for you.” **Y ou, child,” Aunt Susan exclaimed, stonishment, “Why, land sakes! What do you think you cot tid do around markets, bargainin’ with the said, I don't intend to go to the markets; 1 find t1 + and sell } Burnhas some quiet stres the houses, Mrs, frequently does it,” Objection after object Ross had reas fina into consenting t the city, Rose sought a work, At called a alf ts of string ion was urged, but SOMe all, and wl the ed ivi ghe bribed and mn et and commenced 1% aft he first house at which slu pleasant, lady-like woman bought h o1 ‘ 1 a Pex of peas and it lwo quar ¥ rl jr ging any which MISE BI foul ACCESS, of the ha Rose had feared. and and down self trying a next she went to wit heartily tired of run: she grew almost sick of her steps, g as about : imposed task, new OUSeArved She w ney Ne Lr TIAN Lassing 4 Young man passing luce, and « a examining attentively street, when oming up to Not « wrough the eity distance into the country they den before she thought of relie of the reins, for he had made himself so quite forgotten vexation and embarrassment over meeting. Her offer to take the with thanks; intention of her safe home, ® % 1 cavalier had evidently leaving until he had seen * * . . “How are you Charley ?’’ Moore said to him a few weeks after, as they acei- think what had become of you. Haven't seen you since the day von were carried off by that damsel from the rural dis- triets,”’ “Look here, Harry; that damsel from Miss Rose Benton, the young lady whom I have been for the past eighteen months unsuccessfully trying to persuade to become Mrs, Brooks," “Whew!” whistled Harry. “Who'd have thought? But how came she here?” Charley explained, adding in conclu- sion: **She was so completely taken off her guard that day that she forgot all about my wooing that when we arrived at her home I had the pleasure of introducing myself to the old folks as their future nephew—and well pleased they were, too, for they always favored my suit, Come out to the wedding the 1st of Sep- tember, and I'll show you the prettiest bride in the country, I mean to keep old Sorrel as long as he lives for helping me to win her.” clients The Ocean's Bed The bed of the ocean is to an enor- mous extent covered with Java and umice stone, Still more remarkable it to find the floor of the ocean cove ered in many parts with the dust of the meteorites. These bodies whirl about in the heavens like miniature comets, and are for the most part broken into innumerable fragments, We are all fa. miliar with the heavenly visitants ag shooting stars, but it has been only late- ly discovered that this cosmic dust forms layers at the bottom of the d 8008, Between Honolulu and Tahiti, at the depth of 2,350 fathoms, over two miles and a half, a vast layer of this material exists, Falling upon the land this Im 3 bu FASHION NOTES. ~Little cape dolmans are made of cord-de-la-reine, and are exceedingly useful on a cool day. ~—ne of the happlest combinations of color seen lately was a dark watec- cress-green silk, with bands of em- broidery in heliotrops tones on the lower portion of the skirt and a plas- tron of hellotrope beads on the front of the bodice. This particular green who wish to look their best. The old new foulards have printed borders, wear, the outer baving straight, loose, open shirt, and beneath The cheap printed Madras mus- of ¢ little lace at throat and wrists, They are in good designs and colors, such as navy blue, pale blue and buff stripes, brown or deep cream, and re- semble in texture a soft Inala muslin, They ure to be had at less than four- pence a yard at most of the large shops, s0 that, if they can be made up at home, nothing cheaper or cooler can be adopted for the summer evenings. They require to be made tolerably full, as they are somewhat limp, and, in some eyes, flimsy. A length of thin price, could form a fichu, or a laced. edged kerchief of white muslin could do duty for one, Jonnets seem to be growing steadi- ly in height, and some of those lately imported from Pars are so wonderful in appearance that few will dare to wear them. For young girls net bon- nets, made on light foundations with a wreath of beaded butler ribbon or feather ¢ suitable and also becom- y are made principally in black, i malch also manufactured by the t hands of the wearers, Ilack ones what are called magpie s, black and white wether, and str in DARITOW net strings, flies, or a smart q I i +4 WiIgTeiis colors to C8 bong loops ings of the ribbon ranged | ribbons ich worn much sing and pretty pes are many and vaned, chosen f the wearer, but taken in idea from iin woven lined with colored and covered or trimmed with muslin, are worn u3 garden hats. White yachting caps, with peaks, are worn by ch or hight are worn they 10 the face are 3 Sraiarer Va woravinoa Bartolozy's engravings, 0 the i West those 1 i chips, saleen dren and young girls for boating, and also lisherman’s caps, made of two colors, th the end turned over to id fixed by a fancy brooch. 8 made no two pieces jou one side of It and the under the overlapping end is of one and the rest of the other. one side The cap that of shade 80) ied, yyy vd Pali fa lace g popt- lar for morning wear, and also for smarter afternoon wraps. Over prettily zephyrs, or with foulard, lace, canvas velvet, they looked equally well With the high bonnets (many of them without strings), the large, picturesque hats now coming into vogue, and the turoed-up hair, something full round the throat is required to take the place of the becoming winter fur boas; and 80 these dainty lace ones have been and warmly taken They consist of a very full, plated ruche round the throat, composed of two lengths of edging lace joined to- gether in the middie, and ends depend- ing 1n front varying in length, but all reaching to the knees and terminating with bows of ribbon, These ends are - Among the little adjuncts ionable dress, says the Queen, t to } a 01 of lace, laid on to a narrow band of black net, although some of them are ruched, the same as round the throat. A bow of ribbon fastens them at the As a rule, however, the boas hang A few in cream ding wearing them, fastened with an ostrich tip and sprays of real maiden hair fern), and in gray and brown lace, match the eostume, Yah lace, although in vogue on mantles of all kinds, and also on canvas dresses, is not used for these boas, as it is too thick. ~Jat galoons, broad and important in themselves, have been rendered more fit for handsome trimmings by pendent natural fir cones of the smallest growth, which have a dash of gold introduced into their black sur . For this work some new materials have been . Perhaps it would be truer to say a revival of 8ld materials, es- pecially in the case of barege, which has come back te us almost entirely as it was worn many years It has the same smooth, silky surface, but, whereas the old kind used to tear with any strong pull, this is quite able to bear almost any strain. It has also been brought out with Bayadere stripes of contrasting coloring, such as brown and blue, the ban HORSE NOTES ~The Haggin stable is proving a powerful factor in all the racing events of the East, ~The Preakness stable recently logh its yearling colt, by Great Tom, dam Wavelet, by Waverly. Twenty-seven of the forty-seven heats in 2.20 or better at Rochester were in 2.20 or better, ~There are already more new 2,20 horses this season than ever before brought out in an entire season, -—W. A. Banborn’s 2-year-old colt Brown, by Combat, trotted a mile in 2.34 over a half-mile track at Ster- ling, 111, recently, ~The recent death of Herrison Dur- kee will cause lis well-known stud of | trotting stock at Flushing, L. L.. to be | sold at auction, <4 ~-Stanley Mortimer has shipped to England the chestnut horse Duke of Westmoreland, and he will be tried in some of the cross-country events, ~Fred Gebhard has shipped to this country from England his race-horse Jolly Bir Juln, one of the lot in charge of Tom Cannon, at Stockbridge. (zeorge A. Singerly has purchased R. P. Pepper's entry in the $10,000 purse to be trotted for at Hartford, September 1, 1886, and will start Prince Wilkes. ~1f not disposed of in its entirety be- fore October 14, Glenview Farm will Le sold at public auction on that date. J. B. McFerran is authorized to sell any of the animals at private sale until the catalogue is which will be about Connu., issued, ptember 20, — Barring Tremont Fox, owned by J. B, the colt King Hagin, is the best 2-year-old that has appeared this season. He is a brother jan Fox, by King Ban, from Maude Hamp- ton, but is a much finer horse than his brother, and a much sounder one. 10 fil alii the more iron animal of species, He bh had severe drumming and hammering than probably any horse on the turf, and with all that he is without blemish of any Kind and comparatively fresh, as was atlesie n lus — Barnum is the equine a8 gti1l iast race at Sara- 16 vanquished a more than riviidabila fal ormiaatie neid, 1 ri Oa, ary f nary i ord ~The Bard, owned by Mr, A.J, Cas satt, has twice within the colors Dew Drop Brothers’ 000 filly. not the coit one would crowd as a great horse, head, a horse on a week lowered of . the The pick Dwyer Bard 1s cut In a He has a smal neck: SIA -~ Hy sd i bo # al iio frie MEHL, BO { onsiderable 1 and light in 18 very close to first-class burst of speed, but a drive all the way, and is at home in all kinds of groun Too much credit cannot be given his trainer, Huggins, who has kept him at the top May. The Bard Longfellow, dam Bradamante. rt i5 will sland notch since early in is by -—John Splan appears to be doing pretly much as he pleases in the Grand The correspondent of the Th BAVS: was in the 2.23 ¢l Medium favorite az i t $100 to $68 for the field Breeze had the pole, but C. W, Pres- , his owner, was not ased to driving with Splan and other old drivers. Solan, with William C., crowded her a break at the head of the first turn, and she had no show. John Murphy, with Preston, put John Turner behind jreeze Medium in the second heat. Nettie T. was crowded all over the track by BSplan, who was evidently helping Endymion to beat ber. Mur- phy went into the stand at the end of the race and entered a complaint against Splan for foul driving. They bai con- siderable scolding from their sulkies near the stable gate. Before the third heat was trotted Splan told Crawford that his stalbon had thrown a shoe. This caused a delay of half an hour, and caused the postponement of the raes. Nettie continued favorite in the second heat at $25 to $10, and in the third at $25 to $13. Breeza Medium won the last three beats. in 2.25, 2.20 and 2 283. —A very unsavory turf scandal has just been unearthed at Chicago, ir which the notorious Redmond, or “Texas Tom,” as he is more widely known, figures as the principal actor. The circumstance is somewhat as fol- | lows: After Lizzie Dwyer and Binette has been announced as starters for the Competition stakes, a telegram was | sent from tho race-course to the city, | advising certain parties to back Binette, | as Lazzie Dwyer would not ba able to win. The race was postponed, and | that day another telegram was sent to | go ahead and back Binette. Mr. Corri- | gan, the owner of Lizzie Dwyer, went | to the stable, and, his suspicions being | aroused, took the mare out of the hands | of the boy Lee, who had charge of her, | locked the door of the stable, and gave | the key to the watchman, who was told to let no one near the mare until he (Mr. Corngan) returned in the morning. The watchman was told how and when to feed her, but not to let the boy near. The following morning Mr. C. took charge himself, That morning another telegram went to town, saving that nothing could be done with Lizzie Dwyer. Mr. Corrigan put the case in the hands of Pinkerton, the detec: tive. The mare won the race all right. After investigating, suspicion fastened § £8 “The ASS Wis the « at ton ty vO 2 i | i shzsif : E 5 Es
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers