The Homestead.
Oh, wanderers {rom ancestral soll,
Leave noisome mill and chaffering store, |
Gird up your loins for sturdier toil
And build the home once morel
Come back to bayberry scented slopes
And fragrant fern and grondaut vine;
Breathe airs blown over hill and copse,
Sweet with black birch and pine.
What matter if the grains are small
‘That iife’s essential wants supply
Your homesteads title gives you al
That idle wealth can buy.
All that the many-dollared crave,
The brick-walled slave of ‘change and
mars,
Lawns, trees, fresh alr and flowers you
have,
More dear for lack of art.
Your own sole masters, freedom-willed,
With none to bul you go or stay;
Thi the old flelds your fathers tilled,
As manly men as they!
With skill that spares your toiling hands,
And ehemic ald that science brings,
Reclaim the waste and outworn lands,
And reign thereon as kings.
Monsieur Zacharias Seller, an old
judge of the tribunal of Stantz and
member of the grand council of Lu-
cerae, after having slept for twenty-
five or thirty years through the clamors
of the advocates on his circuit, had
obtained the favor of withdrawing to |
his snug villa, situated on the Kusnacht
street, near the German gate. There
ie was enjoying himself under the su-
pervision of his old housekeeper, The-
rese, a devoted person with a crooked |
ose and a chin garnished with a thin, |
gray beard.
These two, full of indulgence for one
another, respected their reciprocal |
manias. Therese looked after the |
household admirably, ironed the linen, |
and took'care to renew monsieur’s stock
of tobacco, shut up in a large stone
jar, after which she was ai liberty to
attend to her birds, read her prayer
pook and go to mass,
Monsieur Zacharias was approaching |
his 60th vear, wore a wig, and had no
other distraction than to cultivate a
lew flowers and read the morning
paper. This was well enough for a
time, but there came a morning when
the world seemed a blank, He said to |
himself that he needed something more
sxciting than to watch flower pots in a
window and befog himself in the mazes |
»f stupid politics, He was very thought- |
‘ul for some days, but one evening, after |
supper, a bright idea came into his
sead. *‘I have it; I will go fishing,” |
se cried, clapping his hands so loud |
hat Therese called out from the next
com: **What is the matter, Monsieur? |
Dne might think you had a fit,”
The idea thus suddenly born proved
.0 be a stubborn one, and the morning |
yn which Monsieur Seiler first set out, |
srovided with a pole, a big straw hat, |
+ fishing bag, and other accessories,
was a veritable affair of state, Therese
was greatly displeased at this new turn |
n affairs, She muttered to herself and |
had moments of impatience, and was |
sbliged to go to confession twice |
tener during a month than had been
ver custom. But, for all that, she was |
‘orced to conform to the new order of |
Aiings, i
For example, whenever Monsiegr
was seized with a desire to go fishidy, |
‘he excellent man, who deplored to |
Jimself his feebleness, would look up |
st the sky, and say with a melancholy |
shake of the head: *‘It is very fine this |
morning, Therese, What weather! |
Not a drop of rain for three weeks!” |
Therese would allow him to languish |
for a few moments, then, laying aside
her knitting and her prayer book, she
would go to finding the fishing bag,
the waistcoat, and the big hat of her
master. Then the old judge would be-
some animated, he would rise up briskly
and say<
“This is an excellent idea of yours,
Therese. Yes, I will go fishing.”
“Very well, Monsieur, but be sure to
return at 7 o'clock, The evenings are
200! now.”
One day in the month of July, 1845,
toward 3 o'clock in the afternoon,
Zacharias found hus fishing bag so full
sf salmon trout that he not did wish to
ake any more, because, as be said to
almself, it was necessary to leave some
tor the next day. After having washed
218 fish in a neighboring spring, and
wrapped them carefully in sorrel to
teep them fresh, he felt so sleepy that
se thought he would take a nap in the
seather, and wait until the shadows
were longer to meunt the side of Bigel-
rerg.
Then, having broken his crust of
sread and moistened his lips from his
little bottle, he clambered fifteen or
;wenty steps below the footpath, and
ay down in the shade of the fir trees
apon the moss, his eyelids growing
I6AYY.
Never had the old judge been 80
fleepy. The oppressive heat of the
sun, darting his long arrows of gold
into the shadow of the wood, the mur-
mur of insects upon the side of the hill,
in the meadows and on the water, the
listant cooing of ring doves squatted
ander the somber shade of the beech
He blushed, and rising sald: *‘Good
day, my beautiful ehilal’
he young girl stopped, chased her
eyes wide and recognized him, for who
in all the country did not know the
worthy judge?
“Hil” said she, with a smile; ‘“‘this
is Monsier Zacharias Seller.”’
The old man ascended into the path.
mered somejunintelligbile words, like a
very young man, so that the young girl
appeared much embarrassed. Finally
he made out to say:
“Where are you going through the
wood at this hour, my child?”
She pointed out to jhum in the dls-
tance, at the bottom of the valley, the
house of a forester,
“I am returning to my father, Yerl
Foerster, whom you know without
doubt, Monsieur Judge."
“So you are the daughter of the
worthy Yeri. You are the little Char-
lotte of whom he often speaks when he
brings me his reports!”
“Yes, Monsieur Judge.”
“Very well, I will accompany you
home. I should like to see the worthy
Foerster again. He must be getting a
little old?”
“He 1s about your age, Monsieur
Judge,’’ said Charlotte, simply; *‘about
60 years old.”
This artless response brought the
good man to his senses, and as he went
along he became very pensive. What
were his thoughts? No one knows,
but how many times it has happened
that a good and worthy man, who
all his duties, has finished by discover-
ing that he neglected the greatest, the
of marrying in his youth a good and
noble woman, and remaining true and
And what it
Soon Zacharias and Charlotte
reached the turn in the valley where
the path passed over a little bridge,
That worthy man was seated on the
stone bench by his door, with a sprig
of broom corn in his hat and two hunt-
recognizing with his piercing eyes the
judge and his daughter in the distance,
he came to meet them, raising hls felt
bat in salutation.
“Good day, Monsieur Judge,” sad
he, with the frank and cordial air of
the mountaineer, ‘*what happy circom-
stances procures me the honor of such
a visit?”
“Master Yeri, replied the good man,
“I have tarried in the mountains until
it is too late to go home. Have you a
little corner vacant at your table, and
a bed at the disposition of a friend?”’
“Hey!” cried the forester, *‘if there
was but one bed in the house, should it
not be for the best, the most honored
you do the humble dwelling of Yeri
1
Foerster!
cried out:
to
he
run
door
Christina,
come to repose
under our roof.”
At this a very little old woman, with
a figure as stiff as a ramrod, but still
fresh and smiling, appeared upon the
threshold and disappeared immediately,
murmuring:
“Oh, God!
Is it possible! Monsieur
“Ah, my good people,” said Zacha-
nas, ‘in truth you receive me too
kindly.”
“Monsieur,” replied the forester, “if
you forget the good you have done
others I do not.”’
Well, if the truth must be told,
Judge Zacharias passed the evening
with Yeri Foerster and his famly,
forgetful of the inquietness of Therese,
his promise to be at home by 7 o’closk
and his old habits of order and submis-
sion.
Imagine to yourself that humble
sitting room, with its ceilings streaked
with brown girders, the round table in
the midst with its dish of trout and
plates of fruit and honey, yellow as
gold, and worthy Papa Zacharias pre-
senting each in turn to Charlotte, who
dropped her eyes, astonished atl the
compliments and tender words of the
old man,
“Ah, Mopsieur Judge, you are too
good,” said Christina. “You do not
know how much vexation this little
one gives us. You will spoil her with
80 many fine words,”’
“Dame Christina,” replied Zacha.
rias,’’ you a treasure. Mlle,
Charlotte merits all I have said of her.”
Then Yeri, raising his glass, cried:
““T'o the health of our good and vener-
able Judge Zachanas,” and all drank
to the toast.
“Ah,” thought the Judge, “what
happiness it would be to live here with
Charlotte for a companion, at four
steps from the river, where one could
throw in a line from time to time and
follow the chase with father-in-law
Yeri Foerster, raising the echoes round
about. Ah! what an existence!”
When the clock struck 11 he rose.
How young and fresh he felt] With
what ardor he would have placed a
kiss on Charlotte’s little hand, only he
must not yet, He must wait,
“It is time for , Master Yeri,”
said he. ‘‘Good night and many thanks
for your hospitality.”
And to see him mount the high steps
of the stairs one would have said he
was but twenty years old, But those
twenty years lasted only a quarter of
him; her reproaches, her rage even. She
had not shut her eyes the whole night;
she had imagined him drowned in the
river; she had sent ten people to look
for hum, ete.
Monsieur Seiler heard the complaints
with the same calmness with which he
had formerly listened ‘to the metaphors
of an advocate pleading a lost cause—
he heard, but said nothing.
By the beginning of autumn he had
fallen into such a habit of being at the
forester’s house that one would have
found him oftener there than at home,
and Yeri found himself much embar-
rassed to refuse the presents which the
worthy magistrate begged him to ac-
eept in return for his daily hospitality.
He would shake his head sometimes
and say to his wife,
“I never knew a better judge, a
more learned and respectable man than
Monsieur Sailer, but I believe he is out
of his mind. Only the other day he
wanted to help me build the hut for the
titmouse, and then he must also help
Charlotte turn the hay, while all the
peasants laugh at him. This is not
proper, Christina; but [ do not dare to
speak to him, he 1s so much above us.”’
“Let bim alone,” answered Chris-
tina, “With a little milk aud honey
this good Zacharias 18 content. He
likes to be with us, it is so simple here,
and then he likes to talk to our little
daughter, Who knows but that he
may adopt her, and when Le dies she
would be remembered in his will,”
The forester shrugged his shoulders.
His natural sense made him divine
some mystery, but he did not go to the
length of suspecting the folly of the
old judge. One fine morning he saw
descending the mountain a wagon
laden with three barrels of Rikevir
wine,
had received the most acceptable to
Yeri Foerster, for of all things he liked
a glass of good wine, And when he
had tasted the wine he could not help
crying out:
in the world. Go, Charlotte, and make
for him a bouquet of the finest roses
and jasmines in the garden, and when
Le comes give it to him yourself, God,
what wine! What fire!”
Zacharias followed close upon the
heels of his present, and felt himself
more than repaid by the flowers which
Charlotte hastened to give him, while
the forester sald cordially:
“You must take supper with us and
taste your wine, Monsteur Seiler. My
wife 1s right to call you our benefac-
tor.”
Zacharias, seated at the table in the
open air, his fishing pole against the
wall, Charlotte opposite him and the
forester on the right, began to talk of
his prospects for the future, He had a
pretty fortune, well managed, and he
wanted to buy 200 acres of woedland
on the edge of the valley and bulld a
forester’'s house on the hillside, ‘“*We
shall always be together’ said he to
Yeri, **vou with me as much as I with
yon."
Mother Christina came in in her
turn and devised this thing and that,
| ries mnagined himself
| these worthy people.
| his chamber that night fall of the most
| blissful illusions, putting off till the
| next day his great declaration, doubt-
| ing nothing as to the result. He held
understood by
| with effusion, weeping like a child, and
| murmuring:
| **Zacharias, Zacharias, you are going
| to be the happiest of men, and, may it
| please God, you will renew your youth
jin a little Zacharias, or a little Char-
{ lotte who shall dance upon your knees
land caress you with her rosy little
{ hands.” At this the good man seated
himself, drunk with hope, his elbow
on the window sill, his eyes wide open,
and hearing as in a dream the frogs
croaking under tie moon in the silent
valley. He had sat thus for an hour,
when something like a volley of pebbles
or of dry peas, rattled against the win.
dow glass and aroused him with a start,
“What is that?” demanded he in a
low tone, ralsing the window a little.
“‘Charlotte, Charlotte, it is 1,” re-
plied a tender voice.
Zacharias trembled, and as he list-
ened with staring eyes, the foliage
stirred, and a young man stepped out
into the moonlight. The old man
raised himself indignantly, and threw
the window wide open.
“Have no fear, Charlotte, said the
new comer, ‘I come to tell you good
news. My father will be here to-mor-
row to arrange with Yeri Foerster
about our wedding.” Receiving no
response he asked after a minute:
“Where are you, Charlotte?”
“I am here,’ said the old man, turn-
ing very pale and looking fixedly at his
rival. And as the judge began to
with a mised voice, the youth
said in a loud whisper: *‘In the name
of heaven donoteryout. I am not a
thief. I am Charlotte’s betrothed."
“Yeri Foerster never told me any-
thing of this, the wretch,” gasped
Zacharias,
Z
“No, he does not know yet that we
are ; He said when I asked
his consent that his daughter was too
young; that I must walt, But we have
engaged ourselves, anyhow. I have
told my father, and he is coming to-
morrow to see Yeri, and, as I knew it
would please Charlotte to hear this, I
thought I would stop under her win-
dow and tell her the news."
“Poor, poor Zacharias,” murmured
the old judge. ‘‘Behold thy illusions
flown!” And he went to bed sobbing,
and covered his head with the bed
covers 50 as not to be heard.
Toward 7 o'clock the next morning,
having regained a little calm, he de-
scended to the sitting room and found
Yeri, his wife and daughter waiting
breakfast for him. y
“My friend,” sald he to the forester,
“] have a favor to ask you. You know
the son of the forester at Grinderwald,
do you not?”
“Karl Imant. Yes, Monsieur.”
“He is a fine youth, and, 1 believe,
of good conduct.”
“1 believe it also, Monsieur Seiler.”
“Is he properly qualified to succeed
his father?’’
“Yes; he is 20 years old, he under-
stands the management of snares and
nets, and he can read and write. But
he must also have patronage.’’
“Very well, I have influence in the
administration of waters and forests,
and in fifteen days Karl Imant shall be
forester at Grinderwald, Furthermore,
I demand of you the hand of Char-
lotte for this handsome and worthy
young man.”
At this conclusion Charlotte, who at
first had become very red, and who
trembled like a leaf, fell with a cry into
her mother’s arms, The old forester
turned and looked at her with a severe
eye.
‘““What is this, Charlotte,
refuse?”
“Oh, no, no, father!”
“So much the better, for I have
| nothing to ‘refuse to Monsieur Judge
Zacharias. Come here and thank your
benefactor,”
Charlotte ran up to the old man, who
| kissed her with his eves full of tears,
Do you
| Then, alleging the petition of Karl
{| Imant which he was ia a hurry to
| make, he set out for the city, taking
{only a crust of bread in his bag for
| breakfast,
Five days afterward Karl Imant re-
ceived the brevet of forester at Grinder
wald, and eight days later married
| Charlotte. Monsieur Seiler could not
| be at the wedding; he was indisposed
{ that day, greatly to the regret of the
| worthy forester and his family, Since
| then the judge rarely goes fishing, and
mountain,
tl
| other side of the
Business Dishonesty.
i
| “It has come to this In business,’”’ a
| merchant sald recently, ‘‘that you can
| him the fair, square truth. He won't
| believe you, and in the end when he
| finds he's swindled, he has nobody to
| blame but himseif.’”! A story which
| we once heard a dog-fan-ier tell illus.
| trates perfectly what the speaker
meant. “I had some dogs to sell,” the
| dog owner remarked, *‘and amoug
| them was a very good-looking fellow
| that wasn't worth a pin. He
a handsome brute, but he hadn't
| trained, and you couldn't train
He had all the points, but he
Well, one day
wanted to buy a dog, and I told him to
him,
Was
{| worthless,
and look them over and pick oul one;
{ and be picked out this very dog.
| asked what the price was, and I sald to
| him, *1 gave $20 for that dog, but I tell
you henestly it is not worth anything.’
| And I told him just how it was.
was the result? Why, he thought I
| wanted to keep that dog, and was lying
| to keep hum from buying him, and have
| him he would. Two or three weeks
| afterward he offered me the dog for $5,
| and finally he took him up the country
| and Jeft him, because he was not worth
| bringing back. Everybody lies so now-
| telling the truth in a trade,”
| Any business man would be likely
enough to be able to add Instances of a
similar nature, The truth is that
trickery in trade has become so com-
mon as almost to be regarded as legiti-
mate, and the old proverb has been
practically to add trade to love and
war in the category of things which ex-
cuse any and all means of gaining an
end. “I retired from business,” a re-
tired leather merchant told a friend,
*‘because [ must lose money or make it
by means 1 wouldn't stoop to. Com-
petition in business methods I can meet
as long as it 1s honest, but when it
came to a match in roguery I threw up
my hand.”
‘The only possible reflection which
can give any satisfaction in this matter
ig that the worse dishonesty becomes
the more nearly it approaches the point
where it defeats itself and the reaction
begins. When it comes to be generally
felt that nobody can be relied upon, a
reputation for absolute honesty be-
comes so valuable commercially that
once more men find it worth while to
cultivate a habit of straightforward
dealing from a business point of view,
even if they are not capable of being
moved thereto by moral principles,
Business can only be conducted upon
the assumption of individual honesty,
and hence, when fraud becomes too evi-
dent, the imstinct of self-seeking comes
into play to force men back once more
to cleaner methods and more honorable
dealing; and if the common prevalence
of corruption may be taken as a sign,
we cannot be far from the point of re-
action to-day.
FASHION NOTES:
-Dark blue of the shade known as
the “Princess of Wales” blue is perhaps
the most popular of all colors just now,
The universal becomingness of this
particular tone in blue renders it an
unusual favorite, and then it is never
obtrusive, it does not fade in silk or
all-wool fabrics, and it is agreeably re-
heved in white, cream, ecru or red in
certain shades,
—French cashmeres are exquisitely
fine and beautifully colored this sea
son, The three popular shades are
Suede, pale mauve and cream, and the
novel way of using them is as linings
to transparent embroideries on cream
net, representing lace, Skirts made
thus are exquisitely soft and pretty,
the bodice composed of the cashmere,
draped 1n surplice fashion, with folds
of the embroidered net.
—Plain velvets come in all new col-
ors, also repped or epingle im cross
stripes alternating with plain velvet,
The novelty in the petite pois or pea-
dotted velvets, with small spots em-
broidered on them in contrasting col-
ors, such as currant red wrought on
Salammbo blue, on navy blue, or on
green, and also in tone upon tone, es-
shade,
| This is rolled from each side to the
middle of the back of the head, the
rolls being perpendicular and
| tucked In very snugly. A much better
| effect 1s produced if the halr be natural-
{ly wavy or be slightly crimped, in
{ unsightly as short, straight, stuby
| looking ends, Switches of erimped
| hair may be used to cover the natural
| A small portion in the back or on the
| crown of the head may be securely tied
{and the ends turned in as closely as
| possible. The crimped switch can then
| be arranged so a8 to conceal the tied
| portion, and the loose ends of the short
{ hair drawn under it.
~—Black Ture satin has appeared
| among the list of novel elegancies, and
a number of Parisian dinner-dresses of
| this costly material are made with
| sharp-pointed corsage front, with the
| skirt laid in very wide, double box
ing a panel, which is covered with a
mass of jet embroderies. Between
each is a wide stripe of black velvet,
decorated with four handsome jet-
tvaded pendants set one above another,
age and sleeves, and smaller jet motifs
are set down each side of the front of
the velvet vest, The back is in prin-
| cess style, with a V of the jet embroid-
ery inserted half its length,
in tralned evening dresses,
| bridal toilets, the graceful
{dress still meets with great
| Sometimes the front alone
| princess effect, with corsage pointed at
the back, and vice versa, There is a
or
favor.
silk or satins upon the fronts of these
| ried in and out among the silken folds
adept to copy. Some of the new black
toilets made in this style, for dinners
and receptions are of exceptional
beauty and richness, made up
fabrics of velvet-brocaded elamine,
silk, lace in the exquisite thread de-
signs, and jet-embroidered tulle.
—The front hair is not worn 50 low
over the brows as heretofore, but in
many styles is drawn back and some-
times brushed away from the temples
altogether. The Pompadour roll has
been adopted by some ladies to whose
style it is suited. The front bair is
slightly crimped and rolled over a light
puff, the hair at the temples brough.
slightly forward and crimped, or small
pin-curis are used to fill out the sides
and relieve the plainness which Is in
such striking contrast to the heavily
covered brows that have been so fashion-
able. False fronts in Pompadour
style are very light and pretty. They
are made in a net and rolled over with
small curls at the sides and a delicate
fringe of hair over the brow. For the
Russian bang the natural hair is cut short
like a boy's, in the front, and slightly
curled by pressing it with the bands
while it is damp, It is then brushed
toa point in the middie of the fore-
head and well back from the temples,
Ornaments for the hair are fashionable,
but must be judiciously arranged to be
effective. Fancy shell-pins, knots of
Hikes and some fancy metal pins are
—Demorest says there are indica-
tions of a change from the high styles
of hair-dressing that have of late pre.
At the moment a favorite
fashion seems to be the rather large-
sized knob directly at the back, the
coil or brald set rather loosely and
out some distance from the
to certain people,
HOASE NOTES.
—ommotion, the great Australian
race-horse has gone lame.
—Phallas will very Likely to localed
in Kentucky next season.
— Harry Blaylock, the jockey, has
signed to ride for Ed Corrigan next
season.
—~John Murphy drove Pleard, by
Abdallah Pilot, a half miie in 1.084, at
Fleetwood, last week.
~Dr. Bray, ot Piitville, Philadel
phia, has sold his 2-year-old Messenger
Chief colt, Price, $500,
— Little Minch and Eigin, for whom
George Hankins, of Chicago, paid
$11,000, have not won a race since leay-
ing the East,
~A. Loudon Snowden drove ons of
his horses, with another he was trying,
a mile over Belmont Course in 2.27%, tc
a top wagon.
J, K. Leavitt drove J. H. Gould
and Bessie M. a mile to road wagon it
2.224, last quarter in 34 seconds, ovel
the Belmont track.
—W. B. Barnes, owner of Blue Wing
and other race-horses, will, it is said,
sell out and retire from the turf at the
end of the present season.
~ Mr. Case says that Jay-Eye-See hat
| been greatly benefitted by the loag let
| up, and asserts that the little black will
| be as fast as ever next season.
— Walter Gratz, of Philadelphia, has
bought of D. O'Connor, the br. f.
| Juliet, foaled 1883, by Hyder Ali, dam
| Etta (Sally Red), by Star Davis.
—(ld Barnum has started thirty-five
times this year, won iineteen races,
| been unplaced but four times, and has
| captured $15,685 in gross earnings.
| —Oliver K. beat Harry Wilkes, Arab,
Charley Hilton and Phyllis in straight
| heats at St. Louis. The time of the
| three heats was 2.16, 2.163, 2.17.
| ~The g. m. Alice Medium, record
{ 2.344, by Happy Medium, was run into
{ and thrown down on the track at Elk
| ton, Md., October 7, and subsequently
{died on the cars.
| — Milton Young, of the McGrathiana
| Stud, Lexington, Ky., has purchased of
i L. Duvall, of Richmond, Mo., the
| brown horse Strathmore, foaled 1876,
| by Waverly, dam Brenna, by Knight of
{ St. George. Strathmore will probably
| be used asa stallion at the McGrathiana
| Stud.
| ~Major Eldridge McConkey, of Har-
| risburg, Secretary of the Pennsylvania
| State Agricultural Society, recently
| returned (rom a short visit to Ken-
{tucky. While at Lexington, he saw
ithe colt Wild Hake, the conquerer
of Bermuda, Nutbreaker, etic., and
| paid a visit to Mr. H. C. Mock, at Dan-
{ ville, where were quartered a number
| of the produce of Messenger Chief dur-
ing the past two seasons, He pro-
| nounces them exceedingly promising,
and states that he has never seen a lot
that for looks, speed and general
thriftiness were their superiors, If
| equals, in any of his previous visits to
the Biue Grass region.
—The greatest sale of trotting stock
{ ever held was that at Glenview, Ky.,
| during the week ending October 16th,
when 153 head of highly bred animals
| were sold at public auction for some-
thing over $325,000, an average of
| about $2100 per head. This sale shows
the high estimate in which the well
| bred trotting horse is held. FPancoast,
| a 0-year old bay stallion, brought $28, -
000, which is the highest fgure ever
paid for a trotter at auction. The
well-known Nutwood, half-brother Ww
Maud S., sold for $22,000, The Glen-
{ view Farm, which is the estate of the
| late J. C. McFerran, was purchased by
{ J. I. Case, owner of Jay-Eye-See, and
8. H. Wilson, of sewing machine fame,
for ($72,403, an average of $113.50 per
acre. Pancoast was started at $10,000,
John H. Clark, of New Brunswick, N.
J., was the principal bidder against J,
| H. Shults, who finally got the horse.
Robert Steel was the biggest buyer
from Philadelphia,
~The rupture between Mr. Haggin
and the jockey Spellman has been
healed, and the la tter signed a new
contract to ride for the California
stable another season. The trouble
arose through jealousy on Speliman’s
part, who says that he reduced to ride
Hidalgo for the grand national bhandi-
cap, at Jerome Park, and went tc
welgh out, dressed in the colors, when
he was told he would have to “‘stand
down,” as Hayward was to ride the
horse. Spellman demurred. He said
he bad understood when he engaged
with Mr. Haggin that it was as frst
jockey, and he had been told to prepare
to ride Hidalgo. Mr. Haggin ex-
plained that he had paid Hayward for
a call on his services, and thought he
might as well have some benefit from
his money. Spellman rephed that in
that case Hayward could ride them all,
and asked for his release, Mr. Haggin
~The chief prizes at Vienna (Aus.
tria), fall meeting, were won by ne