Baby Has Goue to School.
The baby has gone to school; ah mel}
What will the mother do,
With never a call to button or pin,
Or tie a little shoe?
How can she keep herself busy all day,
With the little “hindering thing’ away.
Anvother basket to fill with lunch,
Another ‘' good-by' to say,
And the mother stands at the door to see
Her baby march away;
And turns with a sigh that is balf relief,
And half a something akin to grief.
She thinks of a possible future morn,
When the children, one by one,
Will go from their home out into the world
To battle with life alone,
And not even the baby be left to cheer
The desolate home of that future year,
She picks up garments here and there,
Thrown down in careless haste;
And tries to think how it would seem
1f nothing were displaced;
If the house were alwaysas still as this,
How could she bear the loneliness?
RTI
“i never saw anyiiing so splendid in
my hfe,” said Eunice Alderley.
She was sitting before her own cheer-
ful little parlor fire, one cheek support-
ed on her hand, and her eyes fixed
earnestly on her husband’s face. A
bright-browed, silky-haired little bru-
nette, with velvet-red lips, and dimples
on cither cheek; the crimson merino
dress she wore was exquisitely becom-
ing to her, and the tuft of scarlet gar-
anium flowers above her left ear glow-
ed like a spot ot flame among her ebon
braids,
“So you've been to call on the bride?”
said Mr. Alderley, trotting the baby up
and down on his knee.
tle pensively; *‘it isn’t much more
than a year since she was my brides-
maid, mm plain white mushn and real
flowers— Nanny Olcott, and nothing
more—and now she lives Fifth
avenue, with
tao footmen in white and chocolate
liveries, and her boudoir all paneied in
pearl-color velvet and gold!
reading about one of the enchanted
palaces in the ‘Arabian Nights!” And
oh, John. 1 am to go there to-IOITOW
and spend the day with baby, She
sends the coupe for me,”
“Ah!” laughed good-humored Mr,
Alderley; *‘so the omnibus is too demo-
cratic for you, eh? Well, be it as you
please. 1)id you see this fine husband
in
Of hers’
aN Mrs. Alderley answered,
“Ie has happened to be out every day
that 1 have called, but Nanny says his
appearance is truly dist nguished.”’
oO
’
observed Jo hin,
“truly distinguished,’ ”’
dryly.
“Now you are getting into that sar-
castic mood of yours,” pouted Eunice,
“*A man must
sort ofa mood,” retorted Mr, Alder-
ley, “when his wife has neither eyes,
thoughts, nor memorits for any one but
Nanny Olcott, and the splendid match
made. Nanny was a pretly
girl enough, but, dear me! she had
hardly allowance
sony *¥
brains,
ha hs
she has
the average
girl, certainly,” Mrs. Alderley
knowledge, *“but she has a
manners now!”
“1'm bappy to hear Mr.
pow suppose
cytes
its
1a 3 » sg reel
ey OUSEIrVed, 4
3 1 $3
ring for tea.
unpretending little tea eguipage.
“Nanny St.
marked with the family crest,”
+1 shall wish Nanny St. Eval to Jeri-
cho if ber grandeur is going to make my
little wite discontented,’’ Mr. Alderley
broke iu somewhat impatiently, “We
are not rich, sweetheart, but we owe
10 man @ penny, and we pay our way
as «ego, which is more than many a |
young married couple can say.”
Yes, it was every word of it true, but
Alderley kept thinking of how |
lidiy Nanny Olcott had married. |
je envious of Her pretty, shai- |
fow-brained schoolmate's greater suc-
cess in the lottery of life? She herself
would Lave scouted the idea. John
was gool, and true, and noble—she
would not have exchanged. her John
for Howard St, Eval a dozen times
magulfied but, if John had only been
a rich man! 1f John would only be a
little more progressive, instead of set-
thing down soeontentedly upon # salary
of two thousand a year. Mr, St, Eval
had made his money by “speculating”
—why could got her John *‘speculate”
too, as well a¥ anybody else?”
Mrs. St. “Eval received her friend
rapturousiy the nextday. For ib was
a melancholy fact that im spite of
Nanny's ‘splendid match,’ she had, as
yet, very little society.
‘You won't wind Howard's cigar?’
she said, apologetically, 4s she conduct-
ad Euniee int) the glittering labyrinth
of the dirwing-ro0in, and then, for the
first thie, Mis, A became con.
scious of the presence of a coarse-look-
ing msn in a satin flounced dressing-
gown aud a velvet smoking-cap, who
was os)» nwled ungracefully out on one
of the sofus,
“Happy to meet you,” drawled this
stranger, as Nanny, with some embar-
rassment, introduced “her husband.”
1f it had been any man but the magi-
cian whose gold-tipped wand had lifted
Nalisy to such a height of luxury, Mrs,
Alderley would have pronounced him a
vilgarsooking man; but Howard St.
Eval must, of necessity, be a patrician,
“Come into my boudoir, dear,” said
the bride. *‘I'vesome of the sweetest
dresses to show you, that Madame
Fanchonnette has just sent home, And
Arnold, Constable & Co. have just sent
up three India shawls for me to select
trom, and 1 really think I never could
make a choice if you weren’t here to
belp me. 1t is so hard to make up
one's mind! And, oh! the set of dia
monds that dear Howard has just given
me~they are too sweet,
Mrs. Alderiey's richest Jewelry was
an exquisitely tasteful set of Florentine
mosaic, reat, yet in no way showy,
She recurred to them with a feeling al-
most of disgust as Nanny's diamonds
blazed upon her eyes. Ear<ring, brooch,
necklace, ring aud bracelets—all blaz-
ing with many-sided facets of reflected
radiance. Eunice Alderley felt a sen.
could never give her such royal jewels
as these,
“Aren’t they beautiful ?’’ said Nanny,
complacently, “I’m to wear ‘em at
Newport, Howard has bought me a
Gothic cottage at Newport. Are you
going anywhere this season?’
“I don’t know,” Eunice answered,
And she felt a blush steal up into her
temples, How could John, with his
salary of two thousand a year, afford to
send her to Newport, Saratoga or Long
Branch?
And as Nanny St. Eval rattled on,
Mrs. Alderley sat, her eyes fixed on the
glittering stones, and her mind vaguely
pondering on what might have been,
For two happy years, within a few
months, she had been a wife; and until
now she had never asked herself wheth-
er it was not possible that she might
have done better.
When she went home that night the
serpant of discontent and envy bad
writhed its way into the Eden of her
heart,
“What makes you so silent, little
wife?’ asked John, as he helped her to
peach preserves, ‘‘Have you talked
out all your talk to Nanny Olcott?”
Eunice smiled, and tried to laugh it
away as was her usual wont, but it was
a sort of forced merriment, and John
Alderley saw that something was
wrong.
**1 wish Mrs, St. Eval and her hus-
band were In Guinea,”” he thought,
after his usual impetuous fashion.
“Eunice has not been the same girl
since she got to be so intimate at the
Fifth avenue house.”
“John,” said Mrs. Alderley, abrupt-
ly. one day, “why don’t you buy and
sell gold and stock ang bonds? Why
don’t you speculate?’
i ““Why don’t I speculate?’ slowly re-
| peated honest John. *‘‘Because I have
a little common sense, and a great deal
of self respect.”
“But wouldn’t you like to be rich?”
**Not unless my money was honestly
come by.’
| “Nonsense!” flashed
| “Everybody does it,”
“Meaning Mr. Howard St. Eval?”
“Well, isn’t ho a fair example?’
“Eunice, said Mr. Alderley, grave-
, “I am sometimes disposed to regret
war intimaey with that man’s wife.”
Eunice colored and bit her lip,
“But,” cheerily resumed ber hus-
band, *'I give vou credit for too much |
good sense to allow yourself actually to |
be warped and perverted away from |
your path of duty. So give me the |
baby, and we'll get rich by degrees, in-
stead of risking our all, speculator
fashion, upon a chance, which after all
1s one in ten thousand, as far as success
iz concerned, i
| Mrs. Alderley was silenced at least
i for the moment, yet sbe
some future time to renew
| ous subject,
Her usual pilgrimage Mrs,
| Eval’s shrine was somewhat earlier
{ than usual the next morning, but, to
| her amazement, she found ber friend |
| among the panels of pearl velvet, out- |
| lined with gold, weeping and sobbing
| violently,
“Dear Nanny, what is the matter?”
exclaimed,
““He—he’s gone to Europe, and never |
took me-e-¢!l’ sobbed Mrs. St. Eval
“But he will soon be back.”
“He's taken the diamonds and the
| silver plate, too,’’ wailed Nanny. ‘*‘He
said they would be safer in London.”
“But why should he do that?’ ques.
out
ly
§e
the obnoxi- |
to St.
| she
ww]
f-0e0-1,
he said I was a
Eval; *‘that-
asked him, and
"wept Mims St,
She might well ask, for at this mo-
| ment the privacy of her apartment was |
blue aud gilt uniform.
“I thought so,”
quick glance around,
flown."
The other bewildersd Nanny by the
quick, brusque questions he asked ber |
Howard
with a
bird has |
said one,
“Our
Aud before nightfall the deserted |
wife had taken refuge in Eunice Alder.
ley’s home, penniless, degraded and ter-
riled. For Howard St. Eval was no |
other than Joseph Hodgson, notorious |
forger, counterfeiter, and a man of |
numerous aliases, i
Late in the evening, when Nanny |
had wept herself to sleep in their little
guest chamber, Eunice came down to |
where her husband sat before the fire, |
and silently passed her arm around his |
nec
K.
“Pear John,’ she whispered,
“So your eyes are opened at last, Eu-
don’t want to ‘speculate’ any more.’’
ed, “‘that it was to be truly proved that
my husband was an honest man, Poor,
innocent Nanny, what a dreadful fate
is hers, while I, who repined at heart
because wealth and station and rank
were not mine, am spared.’
And Eumece never again found fault
with the lot In life which Providence
bad given her,
EE ——————
Hints for the Eyes.
Next to sunlight the Incandescent
tight gives the best illumination for
reading, and all notions of the injurious
effect on the eyes of the electric light is
erroneous,
The vast majority of people who
wear glasses cap see well without them,
They use them to avoid a constant
strain on the eyes. The act of focaliza-
tion 1s & muscular one and uses up nex-
vous anergy. :
The oversighted eye, in which the
focus comes behind the retins, has to
perform this muscular act continually.
The results are headaches, irritability
and nausea. Toe only remedy in such
cases ia to wear glasses,
For the eyes in a healthy state there
is but one safe wash-—pure cold water,
When the eyelids are inflamed the best
JosMon is a weak solution of salt and
water, Never apply poultices to the
eyes or use ‘‘eye waters'' without the
advice of a physician,
All fall-planted trees, vines, eto,
must be banked with earth or & shad-
ing of strawy manure on the approach
of winter to prevent heaving, Do not
omit this,
Long and wide lace scarfs, in cream
or black, are likely to be revived the
sation of envy as she aazed John
coming season.
EUROPEAN HEBREWS,
Some of the Peculiarities of Their
Time Honored Burial Customs.
The Jews rigidly exclude all relatives
from the chamber of a dying co-re-
ligionist, Only strangers should be
present when the soul leaves the body,
As soon as death occurs all the vessels
in the house containing water are
emptied, On the continent, where
Jews reside, the emptying of the water
vessels in the public roadway is the
nsual method of notifying that a death
has occurred. The practice had its
origin, we gather from the rabbinical
books, in an old-world superstition that
standing water in such circumstances
became the abiding place of certain
evil spirits whose presence in the house
was prejudicial both to the dead and to
the living. In the interval between
death and interment the Jews lay the
corpse upon the bare ground with the
feet toward the door, The body fis
coveted, but nothing—saving occasion.
ally a little straw-——may be placed under
it. Then the two big toes are tied to-
gether, On Sabbaths it Is not, however,
permitted to remove a body on to the
floor: it would be work. But as it is
sometimes necessary that this should
nevertheless be done, mbbinical ingen-
nity has contrived a means of accom-
plishing it without violating the sanc-
tity of the day. A Jaf of bread is
placed upon the corpse, and the two to-
gether are lifted to the cround, It is
held that only the bread has been moved,
and this Is permitted or the Sabbath,
Two or three hours wiore the Interm-
ent takes place, the cersmonial purifica-
tion of the body known as the tahara
takes place. It consists merely in pour-
ing seven definite mesures of warm
the words: “1 will pour upon you
cleansing waters, and ye shall be
cleansed of your uncleasliness; from all
in a white cotton gowns a kittle, This
atonement and the Pasover-eve cele-
bration.
must
not take part mn the swing of it,
mony. Desides the kite the
enveloped in a praying sarf, or
body is
talith,
and makes a slit of the outer
in ow
rarent, on the
purner himself
left ifn The
. 3
child,
the custom of the county. In the East
is only torn goouple of fin.
The régt must
sewn up for a month, Sg the wonrning
garment must be worf for a parent
fully eleven months, 13e “panish and
Portuguese Jews rend Reir undergar-
ments as well, Except gnong the Ger.
as they are jalied-—in this
| the dead are
performed by the memb@s of what are
termed “Chevrah Kadisk,’' or
Brotherhood,” an organkation formed
in every orthodox cougrgation only for
this purpo No hired 18nds are suffer-
ed to perform for pay th last services
needful in the case of a $parted COTE
ligionist, The kindness in this
shown to the dead is regaled as an act
of the highest merit, sincefrom ils very
such as recipient can
England it
man Jews
MAE,
Way
is Lies
never return,
Actor Warren's Digonified Humility.
During a talk held, & year or two
with the delightful Meteran actor
left us, Willam Warren,
self that seemed fo me a foer plece of
dignified humility than wnythiog he
bad ever enacted ou the Daards, After
the death of a well know: Bostonian,
some years since, Mr. Waren, who had
be a pall bearer at the fineral.
“I learned for the first Sine that my
companion in the funefl procession
was to be Mr, Robert C. Vinthrop. 1
once to the
bel
he bears an historic nam, and has add-
ed dignity to it by his ovn career. 1
am a strolling actor; the Boston public
is accustomed to seeing me in all man-
ner of grotesque costumed and ludicrous
positions, 1 should be Wholly out of
place beside Mr, Winthrop on an oc-
casion like this, and e%ay one who
looked on us would fed it as I do.’
Accordingly, the arrmigement was
completed.” When I ashed “Did Mr.
Winthrop ever know abot this circum
stance?’ he said, thought fully, *I
cannot say, but I suspect that he did,
The next time we met in the street, he
raised his hat to me with great cour-
tesy, although we were ot previously
acquainted, and we met, with the same
greeting, several times af erward,”’
I am far from thinkingthat this piece
of generous self humilid§on was need-
ed, but whether it was of not, how fine
the situation, how almokx Shakespear
ian the wition of a subtle human
propriety! Who does not like to think
of these two men of similar years and
dissimilar lives, both suth well known
figures on the streets of Boston, and
passing each other from day to day
with this silent and digafed greeting,
as expressive as the nous suuff
box of colonial times, ¥etsurely there
is something curious ang almost unde
sirable in a profession ®hich can sug
gest to one of its honored orna-
ments such self deprecidion as this, A
blacksmith, a shoemaker, would have
bad no such feeling, but would have
walked side by side wily the most em-
inent citizen without any thought of in.
conifrulty, 80 strong is the force of re-
publican institutions, Can it be that,
as an actor once pointed out to me,
men of his vocation very rarely vote,
and 30 feel themselves no pit of the
political community?
GENIUS RERBUFFED.
How a Struggling Author's Fostatio
Thankfulness Was Rewarded.
A rich old man, who, having made a
fortune in vulgar trade, and who, as he
desired to enter soclety, wanted to be-
come accomplished, advertised for a
man to read to him, From among the
many applicants a young man was se-
lected, The old millionaire was pleased
with his unassuming manners,
“I want you,” he said, “Read to
me, and if in the future I can aid you
I will do 80.”
“I want you,” he said, “Read to
me, aud if in the future I ean ad you
I will do 80.”
The young man read to him. He
read history, biography and books of
travel,
One day the young man sald:
“Would you not like, for refresh-
ment, to hear a novel?”
“Yes, certainly, The cultivated man
must know something of fiction. Go
fetch a novel and read it to me,”
The young man brought a book, sat
down and began to read. At first the
old man paid but little attention, but
after awhile he began to 1ift his head
with extreme Interest; and, (nally,
tears gushed from his eyes, The young
man when he left the old fellow was
filled with a strange happiness. He
went to his room and clasped lis hands
in ecstatic thankfulness, Hs had
written the book which had caused the
old man to exhibit such strong emo-
tion. It had fallen dead from the
press, A! last his hour had come. The
millionaire would bless him. He would
say: ‘‘Select your publisher, and he
shall bring out your books.
advertise them, and they shall become
great.” Would morning never come?
| How the poor reader longed for day-
light's glittering promise! +'Al last.”
be mused, “shall my sun arise. Af
last can I turn my back upon people
who have scoffed at me, and with ten-
der arms embrace the pure-eyed god-
dess of endearing fame.”
The time for the reading came. The
i old man sat with his feet on a cushion.
The young man entered softly.
“Mr. Giles,” sald the young man,
“you were pleased with the novel I
| read you last night, I believe”
“Yes'
“Mr. Glles, do you know who
that book?"
“Noi and, for that matter, 1 don't
| know who wrote any book.”
“Mr. Giles,” said the young man,
‘with a proud swell emotion, “Il
wrote that novel,”
| “The deuce you did!”
i “Wall, then, I reckon you'd beller
move on. A man that alu’t gol no
| more sense than to read his pwn book
{ oughtenter be encouraged. [I don’t
| want you any longer.”’
wrote
of
i
| His Monkey Saved His Life,
i. An instance of the |
fity of a young monkey comes from
Batignolies, a suburb of Paris. A little
boy (so 8a¥s a French journal),
of an inhabitant of that part of the
city, was playing in one of the rooms of
his father’s flat with the monkey, which
is a most intelligent and domesticated
member of its species. The boy, ina
| fit of Juvenile caprice, tied the cord of
a window blind around Lis neck and
pretended to hang
mense gu
male, ¥ h grinned and chatltered on
a chair, lenly the becatne
livid and began to cry, for the cord had
got into a real noose around his neck.
In a very short space of time the mon-
} t in the situation and tried to
REY WO
¢ noose with its paws, but had
nstinct
himself, to the
of bh
in
8 Simian play-
boy
y took
undo th
to give up the attempt,
ped away to another room, where the
| boy's grandmother was sitting, and be
gan pulling at her gown, to chatter,
grimace and look wistfully at the door,
At first, thinking that the animal want.
ed to bite her, the old lady was fright-
| ened, but seeing that it was endeavor-
ing which might and main to drag ber
| and wen l, piloted by the monkey, to the
{ ing.
i from his perilous position, though it
was some time before he recovered
from his pain and fright. Jocko,
| deliverer, says the French authority
for this strange narrative, received a
| his splendid action, and he deserved it.
EE ————————————
A Spirited American Lady.
| about a “epirited American lady,
{ for whom a titled female friend had
| undertaken the delicate mission of in-
| viting for her a number of guests to
{fll her house at Ascot during the
| races. Among these guests were num-
| bered seven male sclons of the British
aristocracy. Two of these personages
bebaved as gentlemen should do, and
were all courtesy and aouability to
their hostess, The other (ive acted as
the British cad is apl to do under any
circumstances, and persistently snubbed
the lady under whose roof they were
staying. On the return of Mrs, X we
to London, she was asked who her
guests bad been at Ascot, *‘I had the
pleasure of entertaining two gentlemen
and five men,” was her auswer, This
reply got abroad, and every ons of the
seven called upon her afterward to ex-
press separately and Individually the
hope that he had been one of the gen-
tlemen.
~The racing at Waverley, N. J., »
a success,
«Jet 18 used In great quantities on
brown, terra cotta and green,
~The race for the Great Tom stakes
at the Lincoln autumn mesting, Eng-
land, on Wedn « Ost, 3st, was
won by W. Younger's 5-year-old chest-
nut horse Tyrone, Prince Soltykofl’s
S.year-old chestnut filly Love-in-ldie-
ness was second and John Dawron’s
6-year old bay gelding GCheeawich
third, Thora Were ten Siartera, Tw
betting was 3 wo Tyrone,
to 1 against Love-in-Idleness, and 3 to
1 against Greenwich,
«The historic island of Incholm, in
has recently been
——
FASHION NOTES.
~Sixteen to twenty are the favorite
widths of ribbon for bonnet strings.
— Large butterfly bows for bonnets
and hats are made of sash ribbons,
~—Sulphurinoe Is a new red of very
glowing tone, as its name would indi.
cale.
-R1ibbons are striped in three tones,
sometimes with a narrow satin stripe
separating the shades.
Two and three toned effects are
very popular in millinery, especially in
green, terra cotta and brown,
~The newest watered silks have odd
effects produced by wavy blotches or
ovals, the faintest shade darker in the
wialer-line than in the ground,
~The coat-slesve, plain and straight,
18 now worn with the tailor costume
only; otherwise all slesves are full,
plaited or gathered, puffed out in
gome way or other.
~Coat basques, with square side
pockets low in the hips, are being
made by fashionable modistes for demi-
tollet wear. They are completed by a
of point applique or Venetian lace, ar-
ranged with easy grace from the neck
to the belt in Louis Quatorze fashion,
each turn of the lace in and out, until
it terminates in & point at the waist.
These stylish coat basques also appear
among elegant dinner costumes, and
broche fabrics in brilliant color combi-
nations,
| princesse back, demi-trained, There
XIV coa gown parts in front from
i
| marvelously beautiful design, the pat.
| terns outlined with gold threads. The
| gown is brought together at the belt
| white enamel set with pearls.
{ loose sleeves of the brocade lined wilh
{ gold colored sllk open over a second
| pair of lace ones, matching the skirt,
| There 18 a velvet collar dotted with
| pear! and gold beads, and a barrow
vand of the same, into which the lace
sleeves are gathered,
-~Tulles for ball gowns have
sprigs of the same tone as the tulle
itself, worked in tambour, and also
the same triple spots, as well as beads,
only larger, as are used for veils
Strips of moire ribbon. tamboured at
been introduced oun tulle in irregular
points, intended to border the hem of
the dress, White and cream on
grounds to match, as well as with col-
{ oredd ribbons, pines in
ing, as though cut from a cashmere
shawl, have also been applique on to
| tulle. Grecian tulle —or, as they call
it in Pans, cashmere tulle-—is quite a
new idea, viz., coarse, soft tulle with
enormous meshes: and there is no
doubt tual it will be greatly used as
the season for winter gayely comes on.
it is made in black and colors, and in
France sometimes In two colorings;
but English people are not likely to
adopt that plan quickly.
— It will be rather dificult to adopt
last year’s dresses to the present fash-
And first, dresses are DOw worn very
much longer. The skiit is no longer
made to show the feet In front, or
ground all round, and dressy tollets
will have a short, square train, This
was to be foreseen, for plain skirts can-
not possibly be worn short, One does
pot wish to look Like a milkmaid, with a
plain round skirt showing the ankles,
If we are to wear dresses unadorned
by draperies and turbelows, at least Jet
it have the dignity of the heavy trail-
plush
and opening In front
over a skirt of slik or satin,
—=1iress for the little folks is becom-
their slaborate gowns. Nothing could
passed around, knotted at one side and
fell over ihe skirt in long loops and
ends. The body was in loose jacket
shape and trimmed with loops and
bands of velvet ribbon. The sleeves
were plain to the shoulder seems and
divided into long points over full
sleeves of silk. The upper portions of
the sleeves and jacket body was of
velvet,
A frock for a miss was of velvet and
camel’s hair, Plain skirts, with long
draperies, inside plats opening over a
velvet panel. Plain body with long V
shaped vest of velvet. Folds of the ma-
terial from shoulder seaws to bodice
point. Plain sleeves with velvet cuffs,
Knot of velvet ribbon on the shoulder.
Another frock for a miss was of milk
shoulder to belt. The sieeves we eo
un below the elbows, and very full,
shirred puffs, A ribbon belt en
was finished
cuffs were
ist
5
Hin
HORSE NOTES,
ons
—The English thoroughbred stallion
Vagabond arrived in Philadelphia on
Thursday, Nov. 1st,
~The Washington races on Novem-
ber 24, were won by Tellle Doe, Bron-
zomarte, Badge, Pasha and Herecules,
~The Thanksgiving day races at the
Gentlemen’s Driving Park, Baltimore,
promises to be very successful,
~The bay mare Fanny Cope, 2.28}
by Climax, died on October 12 at the
McKinney Stock Farm, Janesville
Wis,
—At Ban Diego, Cal., on October
25th, the horse Gladstone won a race
in half-mile heats, each of which was
run in 48} seconds,
—Addrew Thompson, the expert
colored trainer, has been engaged to
handle a division of Dwyer Brothers’
racing stable next season.
—A trotting track is being bulit
near Liverpool. A meeting will be
held in the spring, al which American
trotters in Europe will compete,
—Viking, the celebrated $15,000
recently in 2.191. Lady Wilkins paced
in 2.154 on the same track.
—At Cleveland, Ohio, recently the
wearing himself out in scoring, made
an 1
Jae
The winners at the three races at
ng, C. H, 8, and J, Wilson's gelding,
Harry W.
~General W. T. Withers, of Falr-
lawn Farm, Kentucky, has purchased
from Dell Barker, of Missouri, the bay
~Stamboul has made the fastest
stallion record on the Pacific coast. He
started at Bay District Park, San
Francisco, on October 24, to lower his
time of 2.174, and made a record of
33%, 1.07, 1.41, 2.144%.
~The race track at Waverly, N. J.,
has been leased for four months by the
Union Jockey Club, of Elizabeth,
which expects to give running races.
in each week at $100 a day.
~The 2-year-old record was reduced
to 2.18 Oct, 27¢h, by the filly Sunol at
Bay District Park. The first quarter
was done in 35a. , the second quarter in
3543, the third quarter in 344s, and the
—At the Lincoln autumn meeting,
London, the race for the Great Tom
stakes was won by Mr. W. Younger’s
five-year-old chnstnut horse Tyrone.
love in ldieness was second, and
Greenwich third, There were ten
starters
—HHome Rule has been the most suc-
cessful performer turned out of the
Canadian stable this season. He has
pow a faster record than any 2-year-
old colt ever bred in New Yok Stale,
and promises to be a magnificent
year-old.
~—Three trotting races were decided
at the Belmont track recently. The
winners were Dr. A. A. Cavin’s Dock,
George McAleer’s Charley and >. J.
Emory’s Happy Russell, Charles Mec-
Caffrey’s mare Flelen M. trotiel an ex-
=
oe
—At the recent meeting of the
Northwestern Association of Tretling
ficrs: Breeders, at Washingwon Park,
Chicago, President John L. Mitchell
took firm ground against awarding
beats to horses which made resting
breaks in them,
~The 4-year-old bay mare Sulsun,
by Electioneer, out of Susie, 2.264, by
George M. Patchen, Jr., second dam
Santa Clara, by Owen Dale, son of
thoroughbred Belmont, is in the stable
of Turner, and will be trotted next
year. She has a record of 2.314, but
has trotted a trial in 2.23}.
~The largest sale of trotters to one
man was made in October by the
R. Allen, of
Fourteen head of colts
and fillies from 5 year olds to yearlings
—The dam ef Geneva 8,, the mare
that “Knap’’ McCarthy has won so
much money with this year, produced
Clay, 2.18,
C. F. Clay got his record at St. Louis
two years ago in a race that was
eventually won by Palo Alto.
~{(3reat trotiers are generally great
roadsters, It is very much regretted
that some great trotters are very mean
brutes and it only for track service.
The skill of the breeder is gradually
changing all this, and the best of dis-
positions and staying qualities, to-
more and more sought to be com-
bined.
—Al the Nashville Race Meet!
cently the race horse Dyer won
handicap race of $335 in the
of 1.464, for SuMtatice of