A Love Story. We leave the wintry woods, and stand Beside the old gray wall; “Good-bye,” he says, and clasps my hand Aud leaves me-—this is all. To him a wat "neath cloudy skies, The ocareiess mirth of friends; To me, aghimpse of Paradise That ali $00 surely ends, Way neal §, standing in my room, Recall his parting words? Why dream of flowers and summer bloom, And minstrelsy of birds? 1 know that net a thought of me Shall fill bis heart to night, Yer, as the moonbeams on the sea O'er me he casts a light, His are the sunny ways of life, The blossom and the vine; The thorn, the struggle aud the strife, The aching heart are mine. In bis a happy grace and ease, A welcome freshness dwells, That bids me dream of highland breeze Across the heather bells. I built my castle but on sand, I know $t soon will fall; A gay good-bye, a clasping hand, A smile—and this is all, A winter sunbeam faint and pale That banda the snow to Kiss; A winter blossom, small and frail — My hopes only this! SH ————————— BRAVE JACK. Nn go and try my fortune with nele Robert,” said Jack. and Maria failed because he could not st and girls with such fine ideas; but I won't trouble him that way. 1s all right if one only stirs him up in the right way.’’ “My child,” said the gentle Raymond, “I do not like to hear speak in that boyish, rude manner, fear your uncle would have with you than your sisters, a Bess The ¥ on 1 No he does make no further advances.” curly head buried itself in the mother’s showlder, coaxingly. ‘Do let me try to win the obstinate old—well, there, then—to win our honored relative to a proper sense of his obligations toward his only sister and her family. Tow will that do, eh? mother, don't shake your head so, no use, Why did you give me a boy's name and bring me up on tops and marbles if yon want me to be a real zit?’ “It was Now, cour father’s wish, snow, dear. Ile was so grievously dis- wpointed that he had no son. But Jackueline is not a boy's name,’ and Mrs, Re ly at her way ward daughter. “No, but Jack is; and I'm never | anything else,” that young lady plied, triumphantly, with an obstin we of the jetty curls that gave such piyuancy to her bright face. “If f here he would let calle T re ' ‘ little shake + #¥s sthor were oniy urden from off your shoulders, and, now that te is dead, uncle must surel ] marrying against h had he te LO forgive jou ior What ri anthow ?"’ wishes, ght ww only living relative and aiswered Mrs. Raymond, v dwavs ready to excuse ther's harsh treatment, Well, in his den, th let me go ‘beard Douglas in his y. “You know for we can get th piace, mother, do fiom oe LEIS ober a dull, spiritie mMOrni His room was dusty ords , though its furnishing good and even luxurious. He moody and discontented, as wealth thal showed itself in some surroundings brought Lo a8 owner wf the sister wi had once h ia the now wished that his pride would let and care for esruel od All ir, Was if the no pleasure made home, 0 il and him beg him in ine gloomy ome back vis dreary old A tap at the door aro ised him. “Who is it? he demanded, in sur- prise, for his servants never summoned The door Ope ed glowls face peeped in. ‘t's Jack Bay le.” and 1 and wore toned to the collar and a er tot te, Calne ull- and a bright mond, at your service, the venturesome girl stood before him. it 1 n NAN $ “he g ulster, closely but hroat, where a standing neat black tie showed hoeneelve vhile on the short, glossy Is was a jaun “Derby,” guiltless ny trimming save the simple mas- culine band “Why, 1 didn’t know my sister had | a son!” exclaimed the old gentleman, his wrigkled face showing something | very like satisfaction as he looked at the new eomer, ‘She hasn't i On “ ¥ i,” said Jack, with danc- ing eye; “out it isn’t my fault, Ido] my best, 1'm awfully sorry I'm not a | boy, uncle, if it would please you; but | jet me stay awhile and you'll see what | a first-class substitute I am,’’ removing | her hat and bowing with easy grace. “But, dear me! how dull it is herel Your fire wants a good stirring up!” | And seizing the poker she attacked | he coals in the grate with an energy | that seemed to imply that she would | like to treat him in the same fashion, A bright blaze followed her vigorous | action, dancing on the walls and show- ng the bright hues of pictures and fur- | niture, despite the dust that covered | them, bringing a cheery look, too, even | to Mr. Doran’s grim face. “Phere!” said Jack, giving a last ap- proving poke, *‘that’s better. Now, if I just open this window and let in the sunshine, so—'' suiting the action to the word--*‘you’ll feel as bright as a «pring morning.’ The girl was like a May-day herself, Auttering around the room as if wafted bry invisible Lreezes, her bright face the embodiment of suushine; and as the lonely old man watched her light fingers bringing order out of confusion that had reigned so long, a quizzical smile dawned on his face. “For a would-be jhoy you seem to know a good deal about such things” he remarked, dryly. “That's the mother-part of me,’ said Jack, as she ‘“‘settled” the chairs and furniture with a touch that only a woman has. foot-stool beside him, and, clasping her knee with both hands, looked up with smiling audacity, saying: ‘You'd better lot me stay awhile, uncle; you'd be a great deal more comfortable.” There was deep anxiety beneath the merry exterior, for she knew well how vital her uncle’s favor was, er mother was too delicate, her sisters too fine ladies to work, and the child (she was not much more, in spite of her seven- teen years) felt as though the burden of the family rested on her shoulders. Her uncle was very wealthy, and if he only could be brought to forgive her mother, what happy days they would see! He had sent once for her two sisters to spend a week at Glenside—a step to- ward reconciliation which her mother bad hailed with thankful joy. But be- | both home, saying he couldn’t stand | their fine airs; that, since his sister had | chosen to bring up her family to such | idle habits, he would have nothing to | do with them. | The ane longing of the old man’s heart had been for a son to bear his | name. That hope disappointed in the { early death of his son, be had gradually | grown up into the selfish, gloomy man | Jack found him this fair spring morn- { ing. | There was something in her bright, boyish face that fascinated him; aud | now, with a warmth that surprised | himself. he said: “Stay if you like, my child, It's a dull place doors: but there are flowers and sun- shine.” | dared hope that she could have cried | for joy. “Oh, you dear uncle!’”’ she said, and kissed his wrinkled old face with an honest heartiness that he was quick to { feel. | “There, then,” he said, Impal ently, | as if ashamed of the unwonted softness | he had shown. “Go and tell cook | you're going to stay, and that she must give vou a room and see to your meals. i Do not ted, somewhat anxiously; | not like trouble or work.” I “I wont,” does ‘she i i i | door again saying: “Come to lunch, Uncle Robert.” ““Yes,'’ as he started at her in amaze- ment, Po) know cook always brought t what she liked up here becaus did not want you down stairs, has a skirmish, but it’s all | now. Come for my sake, please.” ! Doran drew his n more closely around hum, and down into the small he i chosen vou i jus {J been Mr. dressi SOW! oF. » LIOW EH i i Jack breakfast- room. which she ha because It waa so much pleasanter than the great oak oted din: A most templin upon the round table, intermingled with the [+ was pretty to see 4 her i ber own e demands of her young appetite. “Did cook do all th asked, with some curiosity “No, replied Jack, | | wanted to take | soup, il | would do anything ys Walns IZ -roonm. i I g lunch 81011. which then t satis Toned 3 AL fo tl} iV ul you because SOMIEW accom; know, sweep, 1 “But housemaid.”” sai “1 think ¥ laughed Jack. had only tasted the soupl’’ “Child!” eried Mr, Doran, i ca'ching i si do”? “ref toanle ARIA Y sud her hand, “I'm a disap- | pointed, heart-broken old man. If you { could ouly love me a little? “i uncle Robert; | sand Jack. And she meant had gone out at man, 3 wea: ¢ v atl do, truly! it; once to the lonely old in the midst of his th: and she comforted him now, in way she knew, with loving 80 unhappy he bess were honest and true, “I fear master be a-goin’ wor never so gentle afore, said cook, a wk later. That very night Mr, Doran was taken idenly and viclently ill. Jack heard his groans, and, hastening to his assist- ance, found him suffering intensely, “You must go for the doctor, cook; there's no one else to go,’ said Jack, “Indeed I'll not,” replied cook, de- “He's been none so good a master to me that I should risk mysel in the dark for him. “I'hen watch him while 1 go.’ plored Jack. **Do not he'll die.” She bad been down to the village once on an errand for her uncle, and knew she could find her way, but it was so different now, at night. Brave Jack for going! But how her heart fluttered and her limbs quivernd with to die; he Wie Qi i ' lin- leave him or The way seemed interminable, but at last the few lights which yet burned in the village shone out close at hand, and tunate villages, fully similar that a stranger might well wonder how each inhabitant Knew his own home. Little wonder, then, that Jack, after much uncertain pausing be- fore various doors, should at last decide upon the wrong one, She rapped gently, then listened. A footfall sounded on the pavement, a hand was on the gate, and-yes—the steps were coming toward her, swiftly, certainly, She drew herself close to the side of the porch, almost fainting with terror, when a band outstretched touched her arm, and a voles exclaimed: “Who are you? Speak! Who comes so late to my door?” Gathering her courage with one last effort Jack faintly replied: “I want Dr. Robbins, My uncle Doran is very ill at Glenside,’ “And have you come alone from (Glenside, poor child?” the voice ine quired she sald, tiently. Than she came and sat down on a “Yes, sir," im “But you are the doctor? ill you hurry? Uncle may be dying now, 1 have been 80 long in coming.” The poor girl had hurried till she was almost exhausted, and stood lean ing breathlessly and panting against the door. “The doctor lives two houses beyond, Shall J go with you and call him?” But there was no response, for poor Jack, who had never in her life done anything so womanish, fainted quietly away. She was only dimly conscious of be- ing lifted in strong arms that held her close, and of being rapidly driven over a rough road, and at last finding her- self lying on her own bed at Glenside, with a gray-haired gentleman bending over her. She started up pale and an- xious, “Where is uncle?” must go to him.” “No, no, child. ter,” the doctor said. “Well, then, tell me all about it. Who was it, and how did I get home?” The doctor knew what she meant, | “You were at the minister’s door, and he (coming home from visiting a sick parishioner) earried you, when yon | fainted, to my house; and I drove you both over here, Now drink th then, i if you feel able, you may =O to your uncle—he wishes to see you." | Jack obediently swallowed strengthening potion, then smoothed | out the tangled curls with her hands, | and, without stopping to look in her mirror, hastened to her uncles room. | He was not alone, for by his bedside sat a grave, man, who | she cried. *1 1 i Iie stil bh KR ooked at her with Kindly, | smiling eyes. gave him but a hasty glance, tor her uncle's hand was | outstretched to her. and she ran to take ! it. i “And th | two miles through She @ is is the brave girl the dark night bring help to her cross old uncle,” said. “1 know all about it, dear. i would have died { COme 80 8001, 1 I You saved me, reward can I give you, dear child?” “Forgive my mother,” | Jack, softly. Mr. Doran's face bri “| was sure you would say that,” “Jack, dear, I have forgiven i ghtened, | cried. mister here is going for her. will forgive me and nust come and stay, for 1 you g You ha { ing the mi { Do you thi | come? Si | can never | brave Jack! lesson,’ And | down tenderness, There were tears when 8 I time within a | 1 K she 1 let 0, ve taught me | le £ rew the blu ki i he d and Sa a the bright For tl} i urs Jack forgo was crying hes gave face that attractive to LET, Al fit iy, few hh and US i he soaked 38 BECO ’ a softness made Re Ti aha 1 t Ing nin 1 she look- at i Lo wwisbil § heart, ih \ nd there in ber for his seant (0 make 8 try ister Can you guess Mr. Doran little parsonage close by the and rumor savs that will there vi when it K as the minister's brid whe gO se, is growing $0. quiet her happy mother, who is renew- her own youth in beautif . i 1 ly hi ae that ing side, says that God Jack's venture, Y £1 ul Grien- vw doul bie -——— Toads, All children should t are not only entirely barmless, but are among our best friends, They live on and destroy thousands of ants, spiders, and the many bugs that injure our gar- dens. In France they are considered a0 valuable in gardens that they are | sold at from fifteen to seventeen dollars la hundred, or fifteen to twenty-five cents a piece, The great Duke of Wellington, many years ago, found a little boy crying be- cause he had to go away from home to | school in another town, and there would know h i f " | in the habit of feeding every morning, | and the noble-hearted Duke, sympathiz- {ing with his young friend, promised | that he would see that the toad ‘was fed | every morning. This he did, and letter Field Marsaal, the Duke of Welling | ton, telling him that the toad was alive { and well, Half a teaspoonful of common salt {dissclved in a little cold water and {drunk will instantly relieve heart. burn. A drwing belt made fur a Lawrence cotton mill is a monster power Lrans- mitter. It 18220 feet in lsagth, double, making 458 feet of leather three feet wide, or 1374 square feet, When it is remembered that oniy about twelve square feet of the ordinary hide can be used in making belting, it may be calculated what a drove of cattle would be required to produce this one belt. —— ff» Budd Doble mought eleven head of horses from California to Chicago with him, The pacer Arrow, 2.14, is among the number, Five of the re- maining ten are yearlings. They are owned by W. H. Wilson, of Abdallah Park, Cynthiana, Ky., and are Senator Rose (brother to Le Grange, 2.234), by Sultan, dam Georgiana by Overland, Ottoman, Sultan, dam Montana Maid by George Wilkes; The Turk, by Sultan, dam Ida Elliott by Allie West; Rio Grande, by Sultan, dam Wigale by Poompter, and Pacific Slope (brother to Sunny Slope, 2.204), by Saitan, dam Dido by Hiatoga. The remaining five are 3 and 4-year-olds, the of Captain Cole, of Cali- Er ms | A PLUCKY MULE ————— tnnning the Gauntlet of a Confeder- ate Cannonade. Sometimes the mule is called upon for special service, requiring qualities for which he does not generally receive credit, The lines were tightening about Charleston when Admiral Dahl- gren’s fleet began operations in the har- bor, and rendered it practicable for the troops on shore to advance with some hope of being able to hold points pre- viously untenable, ed a picket post on the eastern end of Morris island, and when daylight came had thrown up quite a formidable be- ginning for a field work. federate gun that could be brought to earthwork. the place by assault, and, while there were men enough to hold it, they were la little short of ammunition. | only practicable road wasa mile and a | half of hard, smooth sand beach, | manded from end to end by the Confed- | erate batteries, | But thera was a combination Federal camp that was equal | emergency; namely, a fleet mule and | plucky driver. The mule is mentioned | first, only because ho has long | kicked his last kick, bul the dn | he still survives, will acknowledge without the mule he could have ! done what he did, It may be assured that the mule had a good of before | was calle upon to run the | gauntlet, and possibly the driver, too, | ay then have felt jostified in fortify- ing the inner man, that as it may just before noon a few boxes of ammu nition were thrown into the lig availab'e wagon, and, after looking t harness over carefally, the driver took his seat in the shelter of the sand hills, The mule stood with his extensive ears raking aft and a wicked gleam in his { eye, as if rise into his brain, “Good-by, boys! G'up, mule!” and the equipage started down through the dry sand to the hard level of the beach. | Mule shook his head and executed a in the . to ti ie} t that ' HoL feed 1e «1 16 bo ’ htest 0 | under his feet, but driver soothed him with endearing words. It had not yet dawned upon the Confederates that the | expedition was intended for the re iol tl garrison, But present] gleam of intelligence was In licated | with a rush in the shape of a shell from | the southeast angle of Sumter. Itstruck | the water fairly in line, ricocheted, and { ow 1 5 1 i 1 v signal for act on. Up went the whip, and the mule gathered his mighty hind legs under lnm, Fora uncertain whether he was going run. but a few remarks rot i moment o kick {or the nvinced him that there was de- forward movement, so he “lit all he was worth.” At least uns commanded that reteh © and they 1 or a | beach, ” 1. as they coul | a Th 3 a POUNDGEG BRWaAY AS 3 ' it «$ and 1 a “an YN i i a shell would bur ather too MUe 8 CRrs 5 near the would {or sheer } ry . thiant Reed wri 23 iriver paeq Vie 1 y galla anid he id him to his work +th a ten inch shell tore ug i ¥ ea exploded so nea wine, ASE, ' - i ana beach i i mule was entis dT £43 5 Fail y his driver, caping do he mule by the head, idly round once or iwice, gain on the Keen 14 his went, wat he caugh backed him raj i aff Eva y Ji WAS O41 ump Laer range and st f gel as hie at Yo « SLROBUL, His the it for the mule. conspic was no shelter in | ars waved sly above low lying parapet, The ammunition boxe | out and the mule With thel pects of uni unceremoniously, nose pointed for home! ened load and the pros | ed fodder, he beat the previous record, But the Confederate were their metal now. failed | to stop the supplies, hearts | burned for revenge. | came more from the rear, and bets were | freely offered with no takers, on what ithe result would be i the mule | have a fair chance to kick a ten inch shell, as it were, * tl iy." The crescendo scream of shell chasing him up the beach, lent wings to his heels, | and he fairly flew toward the sheiter- ing sand hills, There were only a few | rods more to be covered, when some | careful gunner made a close calculation ol Re is i imit- ¥ sy 3 £141 ats arviierisis bey had but thelr ol shoul hie § " i @ £51 | as to the lengthening range, and pulled his lanyard almost in the nick of time, The huge mass of iron siruck beach, as it seemed to the anxious spectators, exaclly behind the wagon, soon there but 4 cloud of white smoke { and brown sand. Is an instant, how- ing wood what was left of the quarter. master’s wagon, And the driver, where is he? Well, he was apparently knocked over by the explosion, but he got on his feet ina moment, and, having cut the traces, was on the mule’s back in another, waving his hat in response to the cheers that rolled across the water from Yan- kee blue jackets, from Confederate gar- risons, and from the dark blue masses that crowned the distant sand dunes, It is a pity that the driver's name has not been preserved, for his darin act certainly deserves recognition an reward. Perhaps he ieteived both, but the writer has Lest unable to find mention of the fact, —Sateens are the first to put in an spoearance, and have been on the counters of our leading merchants for some time, There is [a pronounced enange in the designs from last season but hardly for the better, for while some of the patterns are in tiny figures of flowers, stars, dots and interlaced rings, the majority show rings, blocks and all sorts of odd shapes and de- signs, but all large and showy. It wust be admitted that these goods, made up as exhibited in a window of a leading dry goode house are exceed- ingly stylish, But we think most FASHION NOTES, Red is a color prevalent in cotton goods, as elsewhere, and the red and white plald or striped gingham does ple, ~B8hoes are cut low over the instep. Indoor shoes for the afternoon or evens embroidered with beads,; a very tiny bow of ribbon is placed in front, They are peaked at the toe and have moderately high ~Out-of-door jackets are made tight-fitting at the back, but loose In front, with a gentleman’s collar and revers, and fasteped with one button Another model is which is often braided broidered. or ein- ~The new ginghams are more elegant and eostly than anyother cotton goods 5 as soft and fine as taffeta silk, and, in fact, closely simulate in blue and white, azure and while, gray and white are In demand for morning dress, trimmed with white em- broidery. —We shall certainly ses this season The pot re- have the large linen collar will but we shall stiff, starched Appear, becoming. Also collarettes of etamine, trimmed with thread lace. This collarette is formed of a sort of pufling round the neck, with a deep gathered frilling all round. Some- js continued in | front Into a sort of pointed plastron, | pretty finish to an alternoon or dinner toilet. —It is astonishing what variety a | clients, This spring’s fashions are less exclusive than ever, It had been pre. | Bowing sashes. | being realized in part. Round waists | are seen, but not short—at least, not shorter than the natural place. Sashes | are very wide and draped round the | waist, But this is ounlv one model ion: peaked bodices are also much in favor, They are made plain or full, | according to the wearer's figure, and the chief consideration is that they should be perfectly fitting and suit the | style of the person for whom ihey are destined. ~The lace striped and figured are shown in all colors in stripes of vari ous colors, and plain goods for combi- it iv our i two widths, or for solid costumes of halr-line stripes or plain goods; Lhe fancy of the wearer decides this mal- ter. The colors of these coltons are simply bewitching. Exquisite rose t v in old Meissen china, and pale tur. quoise blues, are shown in Siripes of two delicate tones of the same and these stripes are placed side with a band of creamy Jace or a stripe in ecru or cream Iw at of un- bleached cotton. Two shades of sil ver-gray are thus used side by gide, In some an “all-over’’ pattern of forms an arabasque des gn SLripes, in pink, cream-white and blue. The a hall pattern figuring the stripe. Thus there are inch stripes in cream and white. with the cream stripes dotted with blue. ~The hellotrope color still In great favor for dressy toilets, for re- ceptions, dinners, weddings and 80 on —that is, of course, for married ladies who wish to be dressed soberly, if with elegance. The pretty violet shade which has been named bheliotrope Is less hackneyed than blue, green, Or brown. less easy to heliolrope tint, is wear. This beautifal which resource, chosen for an elegant toilet. skirt, for instance, will be of light. applique, or embroidery in silk and tint, while the back of the bodice and shade, but plush and moire antique or peau-de-sole may also be employed, and the last is particularly suited, 100. for the ground.work for silk and bead embroidery, to which are often | added threads of gold, silver or steel | One of the most striking innova- | tions In the new fashions of the season | is that the turn.-up collar, which has | dispensed with, ‘A very elegant though extremely simple dress for a young lady shows one of the latest styles of fashion. We will describe It in detail. The material is a soft Kind of nuns veiling of a pretty shade of mouse-gray. The front of the bodice 1s very finely plaited 1n small plaits like those used in lingerie, the plails are fastened down as far as the middie of the chest; thence they are no longer stiched but remain loose; the fullness thus produced is together again into a point below. This bodice comes down a little beyond the waist, The upper-skirt Is very finely gathered on to it, falling loose in fro~t almost to the edge of the underskirt, then slightly drapsd upon each side very much at the back. The underskirt i» of mouse-gray fancy woolen material, with fine streaks of dark brown ar ranged in series of three and five. The sleeves are finely plaited on the upper part from the shoulders down toa lit- tie above the elbow, whence, the plaits stitched down, It HORSE NOTES. ~The Little midget, Freeman, 18 now considered among the very best light- weight jockeys in the West, ~There will be a day’s trotting at go Pimlico track, Baltimore, Md., on July 4. ~Miss Ford, with $10,215 to her credit, was Enquirer's largest winner last season. Forty-one of Enquirer's ran, —Mr. Salisbury says that, barring accidents, he will start Director ic the stallion race in California in ths au- tumn., ~Mr. De Turk, of Banta Rosa, dc- clined an offer of $5000 for the use of Anteeo, 2.16}, during the stud son. —Current reports say that Pilot Knox, 2 19%, will be one of the sfal- lions in Hartford's $10,000 stake next | Beptember. Bed ~Charles Owens, who has gained some distinction as an amateur jockey “hetween the flags’ in Ireland, Las ar- rived in this country. of ~The Peunsylvania Association « Trotting Horse Breeders will hold their | annual meeting of 1888 at Du Bois, Ya, on September 4, 5, © and 7. ~The second annual meeting of the New Engiand Assoclatiou of Trotting Horse Breeders will be held at Mystic Park, Boston, September 25 te 28. —~(eorge Hakes, the Illinois breeder and turfman, has purchased of J. lL. | Harris the 4-year-old trotting stallion Patula, by Pancoast— Eden | assie, Price pal 1, $2 300, —Coupling horses in the book bet | ting, where two are entered from the game stable, is now the order at New Orleans, in accordance with the provi- | slons ¢ f the new racing rules, —Prince Wilkes has a foll brother, The youngster was droppei at High- land Farm, Lexington, recently. We hope that it will grow up into as good a track performer as the chestnut geld- ing owned by Mr. George A. Sing- | erly. Milton Young denies that he has made any agreement with the Dwyers looking to the purchase of Pontiac for stud purposes. The horse al present is not for sale, as it is believed that he | will stand the training. ~Crit Davis, Harrodsburg, Ky., has | commenesd to jog Prince Wilkes, John- ston, Mcleod, and Katherine 5. Mr. | Davis writes that Prince Wilkes is not so fleshy this spring, and that he will be in shape earlier tah last season. —Percy Talbott has sold the bay mare Silverone, 2.193, by Aleyone, dam Stiveriock by Mambrino Time to Sam Gamble, of Ban Francisco, Cal. for §0000, Silverone was foaled in 1882, She made a record of 2.244 in the Gas- conade stake race of 1885, won by Patron —The bay stallion Brynwood, & years old, by Mambrino Patchen, dam Nahnie L., by Messenger Duroc, died | March 20th. in the Amencan Institute building. He was owned by George K. Sistare, and caught cold in being shipped from Orange county New York. ~The Hampden Park Association, Springfield, Mass, at a meeling on | March 17, elected the following officers: L. J. Powers, President; Coaries Fual- jer, Vice President; E. ©. Robinsong Secretary and Treasurer; Execulive Committee, D. O. Gillman, A. F. Wildes, C. F, Shean and J. W. Good- rich. ~The Island Park track (between Albany aud Troy, N. XY.) hasbeen wid- ened on the upper tarn, and a new club house has been built, The Clay stakes, a guaranteed purse f $3000 for horses that have not beaten 3 minutes, will be {trotted for on June 13, 1888, —The brown pacing gelding Riley, 2.20. by noward’s Coopperbotlom, was permanently injured io a collision cn the Chicago and Northwestern all road while being taken from Freeport, liL, to Rockford. Sam Chapman, bis owner, entered suit for damages aga nsi the company, and was awarded $3500, ~The Great Eastern Circuit com- prises the Driving Club of New York, May 22-25; Goshen Driving Clab, May 29 to June 1; Hudson River Driving Park, Poughkeepsie, June 5-8; island Park, Aibany, June 12, 13, 14 and 15; Charter Oak Park. Hartford, June 19- 92: Beacon Park, Boston, July 3 6, and uniform classes and purses have been arranged throughout the circuit. —W. H. Wilson, Abdallah Fark, | purchased all of the Saltan foals | dropped at Mr, Rose’s ranch near San | Gabriel, Cal, m 1887. There were only | three colts and one filly. They were | got just before Sultan was shipped to | Kentucky. Mr. Wilson also purchased | a yearling filly by Stamboul, 2.17}. dam by The Moor. The five youugsiers were brought over by Budd Deble, and arrived at Abdallan Park on March 13. 3. J. Hamlin makes the following offer to General B. F. Tracy: “I will trot at the coming fall meeting of the New York State Trotting Horse Breeder's Association, or atthe Bufralo International Fair, two Village Farm e get of Mambrino get of Almont, Jr., Marshland Farm 2 -year- olds, one the get of Mambrino Dudley and one the get of Kentucky Wilkes, for any consideration that you may sug- gest. 1 willalso trot a year-old by Mambrino King against the tried 3. year-old named by you by Kentucky Wilkes. 0 against two
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers