- With Thee. If I could know that after all These heavy bonds have ceased to thrall, We, whom in life the fates divide, Should sweetly slumber side by side— That one green spray would drop its dew Softly allke above us two, All would be well, for I should be At last, dear loving heart, with thee? How aweet to know this dust of ours, Mingling, will feed the self-same flowers— The scent of leaves, the song-bird’'s tone, At onee across our rest be blown One breadth of sun, one sheet of rain Nake green the earth above us twain! Ab, sweet and strange, for I should be, At last, dear tender heart, with thee! But half the earth may intervene Thy place of rest and mine between—- And leagues of land and wastes of waves May stretch and toss between graves, Thy bed with summer light be warm, While snow-drifts heap in wind and storm, My pillow, whose one thorn will be Beloved, that I am not with theel our But if there be a blissful sphere W here homesick souls, divided here, And wandering wide in useless quest, Shall find their long-for heaven of resi, If in that higher, happier birth We meet the joy we missed on earth, All will be well, for I sball be, At last, dear loving heart, with thee! ““Yes, she’s the most decided beauty and the greatest sensation we've had for many a season,’ said Frank Driscol to his friend, edging their way through a crowded portion of the brilliant rooms: “but her heart, if she has one, is apparently made of flint. to make an impression on shall begin to think her more or less than woman. what havoc you used to play with the hearts of the prettiest girls, and I sup- pose you haven't forgotten l tricks—eh?"’ Louis Richmond laughed careless laugh that suited the indolent beauty of his dark face and soft dusky Southern eyes. “I can hardly hope to succeed where Frank Driscol has failed,” he retorted lightly. *‘*And as to my ‘old as you call them, it is a long time since I have seen a woman worth—"’ “Sh! hare we are, at last,” Louis, 1 it, broke in the way them. And then, immediately: “Miss Fane, my old friend, Richmond.” Louis Richmond raised his eyes— still with that laugh, careless and half cynical, in their velvety depths, to the face of the girl before him-—the beauty of the season, as everybody called her, Was it the flash of her starry bl eyes, the glitter of her burnished hair, or the enchantment of her smile, that dazzled him and held him speechless for a second, as if under the spell of a sor- ceress? For the dark eyes, riveted up- on that peerless loveliness as though they beheld a vision, had lost their laughing mockery and every vestige of color had drifted out of the handsome olive face. “Humph! surrendered at sight—hit hard, by all that’s beautiful,” muttered Frank Driscoll, somewhat as- tonished, as he turned away with a laughing **I told you so” glance at his companion, and left him to his fate, So he did not catch that one startled, Mr, te too, Lips, Cecil! It was a low, breathless cry, scarcely more than a dazed whisper; yet the sound of it reached Miss Fane, and she glanced at him smilingly, with an air of polite interest, “You spoke, 3 I think, Mr. Riche mond?’ she said questioningly, in a cool, sweet voice, and with a smiling glance at the chatterers all about them, as a sufficient apology for her failure to catch his words, He drew himself up with unconsci- ous hauteur, and a hot, swift flush shot Instantly across his tense white fea- tures, Whatever vision he fancied he had seen—for whomever he bad taken this cool, fair beauty with glittering golden hair—this queen of fashion in her sweeping satin tram and glimmering jewels——there certainly was not the faintest sign of recognition on part. Her beautiful blue eyes were looking straight into his own, and there was a slight, half-interested smile on the per- fect lips, just such as the belle of the season might bestow upon any stranger—noth- ing more or less, “I believe I asked for the honor of a his; he saw, too, these same exquisite rose-red lips, but then they were smil- ing tenderly and trustingly upon him always, and once —how wildly his heart beat now at the very thought!—he had left upon them, unreproved, a linger- ing, impassioned lover's kiss, “Are there two such faces in this world?” Louis asked himself, as the waltz-music rose and fell in wailing strains, seeming to mock his senses with its dreamy measures. ‘‘Are there two such faces, or is this she, herself? I could almost swear that it is, and yet —pshaw! why should I care? Did she prove any truer, sweeter, purer than the rest? No! and yet—Heavens! after all these years the sight of a fac: like hers has power to madden me.” He did not linger near her when the waltz was over, but strolled out into the cool night air to still the fever in his veins, He was pacing up and down the flag- ged walk, thinking and smoking, when Frank Driscoll’s cheery tones broke in upon his solitude, claimed in mock surprise as he ran agamst him. *I wish now 1 had laid a wager with you,” he went on tri- umphantly, ‘for you went down before her at the first glance, just as I predict- ed, lsn’t she a peerless creature?” “Who is she, Frank?” Louis, ignoring his personal allusions, “Have you known her long?-—do you —where she Is from?" “Hold on, and I'll answer 1 some of give his honor, band protestingly. “Upon my Well, to begin, Fane’’- Louis started at the Wi Season ole i and this winter she made her fimished an extensive European tour. I'hat’s all I can tell you of her, except, vert— Cecil Halbert, She took grandfather's name when he her." “Ah!” Again Louis started, and this time a half-sneering features, irange trange, his handsome and his tightly in in the starlight ticed the effect of his Biography. Pre and after a opportunity to Sione, For a moment his dark, eves dwelt upon the fair, proud face, vel lips closed But “in th Frank never no- little they went back together, Richmond found an Miss Fane sently time to speak Southern was hard to read; then: “*I have just heard a bit of your inter- Fane," he “Permit me to congratulate you upon your good fortune, 1 learned also” a little Miss he as bent nearer—‘that as | was sure must could not be mistaken. refuse to recognize me?’ “Pardon, sir!”—with an in her bearing, and a touch frostiness in her cool tones, “1 am Cecil Fane, and I made your acquaint- ance an hour or so ago, 1 believe Mr, Richmond, nized you, save as [I would any other You are you be, I Knew i Why did you added hau. f feny Of ing? [am ata loss to know." “*Ceclll” “Miss Fane,” she corrected, 1ICHY, s if at allL.™ from this evening ith a haughtiness equal $ i He bowed-——wi to her own. ** As you please,’ he retorted coldly, only wished to assure you that In to] ern mountain-girl, Cecil Halbert-—that is all.” her blue eyes with a quiet, half-con- temptuous smile, he was gone—nor did he return to claim his other dance, “Come, Louls, out with confess | am dying to know-—what 1s tween you and the beauty, Miss Fane? Now, what is it? 1 interesting the very first, looked for an And Frank Driscoll threw himself back in his seat, and confidently pre- Louis smoked away for a minute or have one left, be replied unhesitatingly, bending his head low over the dainty bit of parchment she offered him. And when he again looked up, hav ing scribbled his name in the two un- claimed places thereon, he was thor. oughly himself again—handsome, non- chalant, with that indolent touch of cynicism in look and manner which had deepened just a trifle, now that he had met the beautiful Miss Fane. But bow many times his eyes wander- ed covertly to that graceful dazzling figure, as she floated past him in the dance, How his heart thrilled and throbbed like some mad thing as he held that same perfect figure in his arms when his own number came, and he looked down with a strange light in bis dusky eyes—a mingling of passion- ate yearning and contemptuous bitter- ness—upon the proud, lovely face lean. ing so near his breast, For, looking over and beyond that drooping golden head, as they floated through the waltz together, and the slow, dreamy, exquisite strains of the music throbbed and surged about them, a picture rose before his memory-—a picture of that self-same perfect face and willowy form, but in how different a +etting. He saw a slender, graceful girl poised fearlessly upon a’ rugged western cliff, her cheap calico gown fluttering in the wind, and a cloud of golden halr un- bound and floating about her shoulders at its own sweet will, while at her feet the coarse, wide-brimmed straw hat lay unheeded, He seemed to see these same beaut. ful blue eyes, only then they looked with innocent, girlish love-light into his fine dark face, “Well, you can have the story, such Guess no one will overhear us in this deserted nook. You remember I went out West years ago—only four, by the way, vet it seems a life-time, looking back upon it, Well, I met and loved a little girl out there, and her name was Cecil Halbert, **Ah! you are surprised! She was an mnocent, trustful little thing—or seem- ed so" -~bitterly—*‘and I loved her be- cause I thought her so pure and child- like—s0 different from most women I had known, **I was sure my love was returned, but I had never spoken of it, when 1 was suddenly called bome by the ill- ness and death of my sister—you re- member? My sister Clara telegraphed me to cote without a moment's delay, and I obeyed-—not Whiting to say guod- bye even to my little Cecil. “But I meant to return at once, and ask the little mountain-girl what I would not have asked of any city belle of my acquaintance-I meant to ask nay, to implore her to be my wife, “With a heart filled with love and hope 1 was getting ready to return, when judge of this blow to my confi. dence in womackind, Frank!--a letter reached me from the girl I loved-—the girl I had thought so true and lunocent ~plainly and heartlessly inforthing me that she bad ouly been amusing herself at my expense; that she had liked me well enough, but that she had since met one whom sie loved, and who was far richer than IL, in the bargain. And that if I had ever fancied she cared for me, ete. You know how they all write such ?-—even the most unsophis- ticated of them, : “Well, that ended the matter, then and there, I did not go West again, but I did become the hopeless woman- hater you are trying so vainly to cure, It seems she never married the man whose wealth had caught her fickle little heart, but it is quite certain she never cared much for me. And when I met her here— But, pshawl-—what is the use’ *Oh, Louisl—ILouis!” broke in a sweet, half-tearful voice, a8 a woman's slender figure, in rustling silk, stepped swiftly through the open window, and, regardless of Frank's presence, went stra!ght up to Richmond and laid her hand upon his shoulder. ‘‘Oh, Louls! if 1 had only known!” “Cecil!” It was a strangely hoarse, choking ery of mingled doubt and joy, for he could not believe that it was really Ceeil Fane, the belle of the season, who was softly sobbing in his arms, And Frank — although the lovers took no thought of him—bad kindly stepped through the window into the house, and left them there alone, “I was told that you bad gone East to be married—and belleved it,” she ex- to save my own pride in the matter, Why, my came after me just then, and who gave his name and his wealth, But] never knew-—I never really thought Louis!” *“*And I never thought anything else,” he laughed, ‘in spite of your scorn, i A BURMESE PALACE, The Gilded Residence of the Bloody Theebaw in Mandalay, Barmah. I broke off my Burmese journal just at the moment of our arrival at the Mandalay, capture by the English has deprived it of the mysteri- ous terrors that once stood like a wall between it and the outer world. fi Suili midable and imposing when from a distance, mean and viewed worthless Seen in the magnificence of the glittering pinnacles, rich wit] barbaric roofs and gilded ades bright with vermillion and gold leaf, and the tall, shining tower of the great seven. pagoda that overshadows the itself, is undeniably lm- i Lhe oF first time, But the same dazziing sun- shine which adds so much to the gen eral effect « famous building throws all its into relief when ) BX it in detail, 1 wooden . Hll-made plank floors, wa clumsy brick-work fast moldering into just, faded gilding and rex int, gaping rifts in the carved wood namented doors hanging m rusty and broken hinges view at every turn, and the » grandeur of “The centre of the i ' melts away like one of the hanted cities of fairy legends, which | ¢ then as you f the countless blemishes we come U Efirsor g INerciiess or + ¥ A 5 alning SJOLLIN Ts 8 of shabby icnly ol i f il inio los ter ' shed, a stable, or a pigsty. Passing between two splendid Sikh ters (whose dark, handsome faces | ould have made as | i a Mudy for Meissonler as any of 1 Algerian Arabs) we enter the gate { inn ray last letter, Just within it rises a high wall of flat native bricks, doubt- though European cannon could soes in five minutes, Be- | again, lies a Uroad, deep | he smooth waters of which mir- | ror very picturesquely the clustering | palms and tamarinds that bend grace- fully over it. Crossing the Wi aden right upon the palace itself, In the coolness of early thir fresh breeze from Mountains stirring morning, | the Shan the leaves of the | sentries on either side, and the rising | wide court yard through which we pass | into the palace makes a goodly show, | and certainly bears no traces of the | awful renown which descended upon it | only a very few years ago from a butch- | ery more hideous than that of Cawn- pore, When some twentieth century Gibbon shall write “The Decline and | Fall of the Burmese Empire,’ his vivi- | dest language will hardly avall to set | forth in colors of fitting horror how | 86 men, women and children of royal | blood were cruelly murdered on this | very spot and then flung into a trench to be *‘buried with the burial of dogs” how the ferocious **Mekhaya Prince,” | eldest and worst of Theebaw’s doomed | half-brothers, died in horrible tortures by the hands of his own slaves (who had often suffered by his command the torments which they now inflicted upon him), shrieking vainly for the mercy which he had never shown-and how the fierce and haughty **Thohn-say- mintha’ died as recklessly as he had lived, hurling taunts and curses in the teeth of the savage King and foretell ing a speedy and violent death to the “runaway monk,” a stinging allusion to Theebaw’s original destination, Lhe last words of the genteer Meingtohn breathed forgiveness to his destroyer as he bowed his head beneath the murder. ous club, The poor Princess, subjected to all the nameless horrors which bar- barian cruelty could devise, prayed for death before it came, while the in- fant children, tossed from spear-point to spear-point slong the ranks of Thee- baw's g the whole palace ring with their shrieks of agony, which the King’s military band vainly strove to drown with rollicking bursts of werry music. The poor old Regent of Pegu, in whose infirm age (yrann itself could find little to fear, had h mouth and nostril crammed with guns wder, which was then set on fire, ut it is needless to prolong the sicken- ing of atrocities, the mere thought of which is more than suffici- Ratnagherri, or for the ferocious Queen whose baneful influence upon his weak and timid mind was the chief cause of the tragedy. But the retribution, though tardy, has been very complete. The palace in which these evil deeds were done Is now held by foreign invaders, Its cruel master is a prisoner far away beyond tho sea' and as we approach the gate. way in which he sat on that day of terror to view the agonies of his vic- tims, we find it occupied by the ruddy faces and sturdy frames of a group of English soldiers, who salute us with military precision as we pass by. The golden roofs and crimson colonnades echo with the shrill blast of a Dritish bugle call, and the sacred chamber in which Burmese Princes and grandees lately saw thesplendor of their embroid- ered robes flashed back from the thou- sands of tiny mirrors that stud the gild- ed walls, are now littered with the bat- tered bullock trunks and well-worn gun cases and torn railway novels and half-empty cigar boxes of Western civil- ization, And so we wonder on through paved courts overshadowed by stately palin trees, between long ranks of blood-red pillars, past high walls sparkling like a fairy palace with gaudy Mosaics, be- ablaze with gold leaf, | turn the romantic effect of all this fan- tastic Eastern architecture baric magnificence is marred by some | ludicrous intrusion of business-like | Europe, with its plain, { fashion worthy of the ‘‘Arabian Nights, '’ bears the name of ‘Brigadier (reneral Wolseley, C, B, up like jets of fire along the overhang- ing roof of the great council hall, the looks as absurd as when in the dim interior | Pyramid the stone coffins of the Phara- ago sir. jass’'s Bottled Stout” and “Harper der.” {into which, in foriner days, more than one European envoy has crept shoeless and | with bowed head through a jeering | crowd of Burmese nobles) one may now | hangs the august ‘‘throne room’ i i i i “Brigade Headquarters office’’ and “Field Pay Office.” Amid the forest bristle around and side one figure Is everywhere congpicu- ous, viz.: the sacred peacock, which Is the symbol of Burmese royalty, certainly a very appropriate emblem of the childish conceit which made this petty chief of savages think himself the greatest man upon earth, All the cor- nices of the gilded roofs that rise story above story along the northern face of the palace are painted a deep bloodred, which, in its weird contrast with golden splendor above and below them, has a very ghastly effect. Beyond the pillared arcade of the great *‘hall of i of carvings that above us but formerly blazing dresses and ringing heralds proclaiming titles of the King nobles—extends a wide court- yard neatly planted with trees, in which stand a row of Burmese cumbrous can- non, probably some of the toys of Thee- | baw’s father, King Mindohn, mania for casting or purchasing guns was one of the most curious among his And so we come at last to the “Centre of the Universe,’ as the natives proudly style the tall, slender, sevenstoried pagoda which overshadowed in the days of ils pride the white throne of Burmese royally, and still overshadows it now that it departed forever and its scepire into the hands of with gorgeous Home Life of the Queen of Spain, The queen of Spain has her own physicians, Dr. Riedel, who came from Austria with ber, given much rise to jealousy, but Dr. that he has great talent, and the other a marine officer. gentlemen are on duty only on certain days, and are changed every three years, In the army and navy it is con- sidered quite a distinction to be the young officers feel quite at home, so that they really form part of the family during their stay in the palace, The regent has a host of servants, but she has but two maids, one of whom is an Austrian, Besides a head chief de cuisine there are many assistant cooks, Bat it is said that the royal table is not always well served, and the wines es- pecially are inferior. The late king had not the slightest idea what a good cellar meant, There are many stories afloat telling how badly the poor dying monarch was fed, and how he once said to a foreign embassador who went to see him at the Pardo palace that he would give anything for a good chicken broth, At the royal dinners and ban quets one finds everything that money can procure, but somehow or another nothing seems well prepared, “To Write a Pretty Note” Ruled paper 1s never used for notes or correspondence. It is considered in- elegant and unfashionable, Square cards are employed for giving or answering invl and the square envelope sealed with wax, of course ac- companies them, A ations are almost entirely avoided in ceremonious notes, as they Swyoy of haste, and are hardly respect. With a fortunate few ‘to write a pretty note” seems to be somewhat of a while others find it a hard task, lndter ill be helped approach BO no your idea and know what meaning you want to convey; concentrate the mind ent to quench lingering spark of compassion for o dethroned exile of 5 expressing thoughts intelli FASHION NOTES. —DBroad brimmed Leghorn hats, trimmed with heavy wreaths of white flowers and green leaves, are worn by little girls of 7 years and under, — ols de rose 1s not rosewood color, a8 one might imagine from a liberal translation of the French words, but a shade of dull, pinkish fawn color, ~-Vests of black or colored crepe de chine, or similar light material, are added w silk costumes to give them a less heavy effect for summer wear. —Large plaids in light gray, blue, buff or brown wool, or figured challi or gay-striped mouseline de laine, are be- ing made up into spring and summer frocks for little girls, —The Gabrielle dress is also very fashionable, cut bodice and skirt all in one without any definitely marked waist, a few plaits upon the hips and a slight drapery in front, —Most bodices are now fastened with hooks and eyes, or buttoned in- visibly, When buttons are wvisible, they are merely small molds covered with eloth, or small crocheted balls, —Bodices are always made with re- vers, plaited fichus, embroidered trim- are much worn of soft draped in natural folds, never plain —Sleeves always have some sort of the shoulder—either a very fine plaits, or else epauletles of ribbon, braid, pasementerie, ele from the First Em- a much modified style. we A style of scarf new drapery, of the straight ner. —'The tournure which threatened to expand into all the extravagance of the upon public notice, and merely acting might otherwise pear too soft and limp. in apparel, linen has retained a place as the pleasantest of all summer wear, notwithstanding the fabrics in cotton, woolen ant —There is nothing *‘c linen. Itis a fabric whose serve’ is gratful to the oppressed sen mp and discouraged with wear, it can made to assume its first freshness, in the make and fashion of modern costumes, It would be an illusion, however, to suppose our dresses will cost much less hitherto, Our couturiers are obliged to follow the lead given by be sure they will find compensation in some way or the other. Thev will offer you quite plain straight skirts, but the foot is edged with such exquisite em- broldery, the buttons are of such mar- velously artistic style that, with these and other such accessories, the dress ~The old-time cross-barred muslins are again in favor, also the plain Vie- toria lawns that are always so dainty and cool looking. For these and simi- jar fabrics a belted blouse or full ' or like “Hermione” blouse or a blouse waist without platings or shirrings, is used, and a full skirt made of plain breadths and finished with a hem and tucks These dresses, indeed, are the embodi- ment of simplicity, and have only a little lace or embroidery as a finish on the sleeves and at the neck, and for young ladies are completed by a sash of broad ribbon tied in a “baby" bow at worn over the lower part of the waist, — Linen ginghams are charming for morning wear, and their simplicity may be relieved with embroidery and ribbon, se that they become really dressy. The newest goods in this line, are the linen damasses, woven like gingham, but in desigous re- gingham—are not all linen, but with the colored threads of cotton. Stripes, pretty color combinations predominate, yet the effect when made up is quite as pleasing and satisfactory as the figured goods of seasons past, The styles for making up are simple enough to admit of laundering, and a favorite model is made with three deep flounces covering the plain skirt, and a short, fitted basque or surplus waist worn with a wide sash, Tucked plain skirts have a tucked sash of the ma terial, or a full back drapery, which is cut square and hemmed all around, and draped by tapes fastened on the under side, ~A very elegant costume for a young lady was of light blue cloth, a princess body, back in plaid folds, with fullness made by underplaits in the seams. The side seams of the skirts may almost to the waist, and lsced about two-thirds of the way down, eelitle & £23 dsraaitaid 2 i i 2 HORSE NOTES, ~ Volante seems to be as good as ever he was, ~The Dwyer Brothers are in the lead as winning owners. There were seven races at Mon- mouth Course on Lhe 14th, There were over 700 runners at the Chicago track recently. ~In Yorktown Delle John FE, Phii- lips has a thoroughly good mare, ~—QOrange Bud (2.23}) is being pre- pared for track work at Baltimore. ~Jim Gray is badly wind-broken, and his racing days are probably over, ~The gelding Bt. Louls trotted two infles in 5.22 at Fleetwood on dbaturday July Tih, Spalding was quits a race-horse last year. Ils has not yet started for this season. ~The horse John Henry fell and broke his neck in a steeplechase at Monmouth Park July Tth, ~The 5 year old b. g. Mambrino Hannis, by Hanonis, trotted a trial heat in 2.22% at Baltimore recently. -- Harry Wilkes, winner of the 2.20 pacing race at Beacon Course, is by Ambassador, dam a Hiatoga mare. ~The pacer Balsora Wilkes, by Wilkie Collins, made a record of 2,10§ at Council Bluffs, la., the first week in July. —Onue of the grand circuit tracks will have the finishes all races photographed by the instantaneous pro- | cess, —Delvidere is like his xon. The only way him is to wait for a stretch. -—Stetson, who put Monarch in the first two heats of the 2.23 pace atl the Mystic Park meeting, was fined 8100 by the judges, —At Helena M, T., on July 5, the borse Daniel B. broke the record for three furlongs, running the distance in 34] seconds, made at Littie Rock in 1882. Daniel B. is a son of Glenheim, dam Nettle by Sun Dance. —FE. J. Baldwin's famous colt Em- peror of Norfolk pulled up lame at Chicago at the end of an exercise gal. lop recently. While not broken down, { the symptoms are such that it was de- | cided to throw him out of training and not start him again this season. — Memorandum, a 3 year oid bay colt by Nephew, won the stake race for 4 year olds at the Franklin (Pa.) meet- ing, taking the first, fourth and £fth heats. Time—2.43, 2.433, 240, 2.434, | 2.424, Tiere were four starters, and all the others were 4 year olds, — At a meeting of t.e Executive Jommittee of the American Jockey Club on Thursday July 12th it was de- | cided to throw ont the French mutual | machines and take back the bookmak- | ers at the fall meeting. The meeting will begin on October 24 and conclude | on October 15. ~ Astoria, the sister of Dexter and {| Dictator, was purchased at the Midway | Park sale by David Bonner. She | showed more speed when in training i of ils brother Sir win with run through the { Di to % the brakes on Ei than any other daughter of Clara, When owned by Robert Bonner she | trotted a mile in 2.235. She probably { will be bred to Lord Russell, brother of | Maud 8, — liver K. showed a little lameness | after he troited his mile in 2.15} with | Johnston at Hamline Park, on July 4, { and Doble did not start him in a sec- | ond beat on that account. He was all { right the next day, and has not taken | a lame step since, He is belng worked | right along and was at Pittsburg the {second week in July. Doble drove | Johnson a mile in 2.13, ~There will be a Fair al New Cas- tle, Pa., on September 27, 28 and 29 under the auspices of the Lawrence Bounty Agricultural Society and Farmers' Institute, an organization composed chiefly of the farmers and stock-breeders There will be stakes for yearlings, 2 year olds and 3 year olds, and purses for 3, 2.40 and 2.30 classes, trotting, and 2.35 class for pac- ers, ~A good horse has been named after the revivalist. Sam Jones was bred in Kentucky, and he is a bay gelding, by Messenger Chief, sire of Maud Messen- ger, 2 164, out of a mare by Mambrino Pilot, Jr., son of Mambrino Pllot and daughter of Gray Eagle. He 1s owned by A. A, Bonner, and recently Jesse Yearance drove him to top wagon al Fleetwood 1n 2.20%. ~The Dwyer Brothers have been very fortunate in the Lorillard stakes, they having won it four successive years with Hindoo, Runnymede, George Kinney and Ecuador, and again, In 1886, with Inspector B., and in 1887 with Hanover, Mr, Lorillard capturing it the intrrvening year (1885) with Wanda, There were really but two in it Saturday July 7th. Sir Dixon and Los Angeles. The value this year to the winner was $18,750, ble, for in the younger division noth ing has been found geod enough to expenses except who fortunate in meeting Doe bad track. ~The Italian Government on a : it 0 -—
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers