The Crowded Sireet Car,
The shades of night were falling fast
{n one box ear were fifty massed,
While thirty more were packed outside,
I'he tenor-voioed conductor eried,
“Move forward, pleases”
At every corner more piled on,
I'iil every inch of space was gone.
No nicke'-bearer was denied,
And still the meek conductor cried,
“Move forward, please!”
I'he shivering shop girls stand in groups,
Who fain would ride within those coops,
To board the cars they vainly tried,
And yet the slim conductor cried,
“Move forward, please!”
To realize th’ ideal jam
‘I'would need a big hydraulic ram
T'o crowd the passengers iuside
Who heard not when the fellow cried
“Move forward, pleasel’
One day a man of fearful might
Packed all the people in so tight
I'hey stuck together in a lump,
As solid as a hickory stump—
“Move forward, please!’
IN A TIGHT PLACE.
Larry Wright was one of the best
fellows in the world-—a little too mer-
eurial perhaps, but generous, forgiv-
ing, and frauk to a fault.
He was a handsome fellow, too, with
a curly, blonde head, a pair of merry
blue eyes, and a dimple in one ruddy
cheek.
Two-and-twenty, country-bred, well
educated, well connected, be had en-
joyed life exceedingly up to that period.
Then he went to Boston a3 book
keeper, He confessed to no one why
the farm bad suddenly palled upon him,
but whatever the cause of his discon-
tent was, he enjoyed the change.
In six months hoe was twice advanced
in position. He had no vices to break
in upon his duties, and he was a favor-
ite with Ferguson & Co., sugar im-
porters, of large wealth and the Dest
standing.
His good nature made him liked, too,
with the other young men by whom he
was surrounded.
There was only oue thing which it
seemed to Larry he could not bear.
This was the heat of the city when
summer came. Ie missed the fresh,
sweet country atmosphere. It seemed
as if he could not endure the simcon-
like puffs of sultry air which brought
to nis nostrils only dust and the min.
gled odors of his crowded surroundings,
The office was large and commoul-
ous, but bis boarding-house was crowd-
ed, and the mosquitoes very annoying.
“Well, this tries a fellow’s mettle,
Tom.” he said to his room-mate, one
sweltering night in July, when nobody
wuld sleep for the heat and singing in-
“ “I bad no idea the city was
such an inferno in suminer, I am
learning what it is to feel cross morun-
ings when 1 get up, after such nights
as these."
Tow Niles, who was city-bred, had
no idea of night air that was dewy and
cool in summer weather,
48,
“Oh, you'd get used to it,” he an- |
swered, wearily,
“The next house, at the end of the |
block, gets more breeze,” remarked
Larry. “It’s a corner lot, 1 wonder
who lives there?"
“Don't know."
“Well, my vaeation’s coming next
week,” sighed Larry. “I'll turn my
back on this volcano for one blessed
month.”
But just before the day of his expect-
«l release, Mr. Ferguson came to him
with the request that he would give up
his vacation, and accept added duties,
“It will tavor me very much, and I
will make it worth your while, Mr. |
Wright,” he said. i
Laity kuew what that meant—ad-
vancement, inthe antumu, to the posi-
tion of bead book-Keeper, and a salary
f two thousand dollars a year. He |
was dismayed, disappointed, but he
knew what be must do,
“I will remain, Mr. Ferguson,”
said, cheerfully.
It was one of Larry’s characteristics
that, whatever he did, he did it heartily
and pleasantly, and it was evident that
his employer was much gratified now by
his ready and frank consent,
I wisi we had more young men like
you, Mr. Wright,” he said, with a
smile,
But it was a little hard for Larry to
we Tot and the other boys go off to
lake, and mountain, and seashore,
He continued to battle with the mos.
quitoes and lost flesh a little during the
uext week, He was working very hard
st the oflice, He began to have blind-
ing headaches, and for the first time In
his life knew what it was to feel ill.
“By Georgel” he said, “in a week
more, if I don’t get a good night's
sleep, I shall break down and be sick.”
Is was one of the prolonged hot spells
of the seas.n. Not a drop of rain bad
fallen for a mouth, Everybody who
sould get out of the city had gone,
Larry noticed one day that the house
sn the corner lot wus empty. Who-
sver the inmates were, they had fitted
probably to the seaside,
It was a pieasant house, half-covered
with a vine. One end faced the water,
and had the sea breeze the inmates of
Larry's boardiog-Louse were always de-
nied, It h Jd the appearance of being
secuplied by rich people,
Larry wished be lived there,
shiis wish was born my story,
shunning his bot pillow one night,
we stepped out upon the light fron bal.
ony winch rau the whols length of the
sock,
He thought be caught a slight breath
of cool east-wind, and stepped over the
single iron bar which separated the
sremnises of his corner-house neighbors
‘rom lils own.
He was quite certain the house was
empty. Ie went to the end of the bal-
sony and leaned over.
It was a dark night, yet beyond the
roofs of the houses he caught a Blimpre
of pale-shining water-line, and, to his
great rellef, he could feel the air,
As he stood enjoying it, the blind of
a window which opened upon the bal-
gony swung out. It had been insecure-
iy 1 , and now the wind had
blown it open, And, to Larry's sur-
prise, he saw that the window was
The fault of a careless servant, he
ous Wt. What a gross plece of ne-
glect]
he
And of
The creat, Sieh house all exposed!
. Ba wl
He looked curiously within the re-
vealed apartment, and then, obeying
an impulse of his idleness, stepped over
the low sill into the room,
His foot fell soundlessly upon a vel
vet carpet, and in the dim light he
could see that the articles of furniture
were massive and rich,
All was perfectly still-—-not a sound
but the soft swaying of the lace cur-
tains in the draft, and the noises of the
city’s streets,
What a chance for a burglar! But
Larry thought of anything but burg-
lary.
The house, closed from the sun and
heated air, was deliciously cool; there
was the faint scent of perfume in the
room, and through the glass doors of a
bookcase he caught the gleam of gilded
volumes,
What alluring treat was this spread
before him? Hours of leisure, com-
fort, enjoyment, amid the most con-
genial surroundings, 1f he only dared
stay awhile, how delightfully he could
pass away the timel
Courage grew upon him as he linger.
ed about. He picked up a book, and
with diflicaity traced the title,
It was a new novel he had longed for
opportunity to read.
What harm if he stayed an hour and
read?
endurance,
He waited a Then
little,
ble table at his side, and he quickly
fighted it,
It was in not
an alcove and he di
from the outside,
He had fallen into a most enjoyable
perusal of mis book, lying back
luxurious chair, his feet on a velvet
foot-rest, when the sound of a silvery
voice on the sidewalk reached his ear.
The color slowly crept out of Larry's
young cheek as he l.stened, for it was
secret almost from himself—
gay city life, whom he had known as a
boarder near his home the
life dis
eny had made the dull farm
tasteful to him.
He sat as if under a spell,
*Are you not afraid?” |
other voice say.
“Oh, nol’ answered Helen Denbigh.
*I always stay bere, when
whether Uncle Arthur's family are in
town or not. Good-night!”
we heard ane
1
His deep emotion was changed toa
feeling of bewilderment as Le suddenly
heard the hall d with the
quiek click of the lock, and a fleet step
on the staircase,
As quickly as possible he extinguish-
ed the light and sprang to the window;
but it was the wrong and was
closed,
He had time only to let the lace cur-
tains fall over hi, and then stood per-
door cl SE
Iii
cue,
Helen Denbigh crossed the room
with an uperring step and lighted the
student lamp Larry had just extin-
Then, standing in the centre of the
hat and
lovely and graceful girl she was,
She went Into the
and he could hear her moving about
what seemed to be toilet articles. He
could smell cologne and ammonia, He
By-and-by-she came back more slow-
ly and sat down in an easy-chair, Her
back was toward the open window; she
did not notice it; and it soon became
apparent that she was preoccupied with
her own feelings,
She hid her brow with her hand for
awhile, and then threw herself back in
her chair with a la: shing air, and
wthily pale.
"ii
ba
ber countenance was de
It was evident that the
was becoming very ill
restl-ssly, signed and moaned frequent.
She
breathing with difficulty, and pressing
her hands upon the pit of her stomach,
The unbidden guest behind the cur.
cern. He forgot to fear exposure for
himself,
At length the sick
wateh,
“Eleven o'clockl™
throwing herself into a chair.
not go out, and 1 shall die here!
am in such distress!”
Her countenance was ghastly; her
moans became sharper,
Larry dared not hesitate longer,
“Do not be frightened!” he said,
speaking with a studied gentleness, *‘I
will go for a physician for you.”
And then he stepped forward and
girl looked at her
she moaned,
“1 dare
Oh, I
where it bad fallen,
He hoped Miss Denbigh would not
know him-—for how would he explain
his intrusion?
Let her think what she might, so
that she did not recognize him, aud he
procured for her the assistance she
needed,
So, averting his face with care, he
passed the astonished girl, went down
stairs and out at the hall door.
He was certain he must have added
terror to her sufferings, but in a hea:
and hurry he stumbled across the
street, rang up a doctor, and sought
his own premises ina tumult of feel
ing.
Though he did not know the doetor,
he chanced to know that he was a
friend of the Denbighs, and he was sure
Helen was in good hands
He was cousumed with anxiety, yet
realized that he had better do nothing
more:
But he slept little that night, and all
the next day was undecided what he
had better do.
On the day following he passed Ilel-
en in the street, She was In company
with Doctor Dudley’s sister,
He saw at a glance that she had quite
recovered from Ir indisposition; but
that glance told him something more.
Her penetrating, repioachful look,
her burning blush, revealed to him that
he had been recognized,
He was sorry, ashamed, humiliated
by the discovery. He had hoped that
be bad escaped detection, Bat he bad
not, and what must Miss Denbigh
think of hin?
Ilis conduct had beon such ss to
arouse the worst suspicions—if not in
ber breast, certainly in the Lrasts of
the owners of the house he had intrud-
ed upon.
Ob, why had he taken a course
which laid him open to the worst sus-
picions? Who would believe that he
was prowling in a neighbor’s house—a
rich neighbor’s—for any good?
At least it was an unwarranted 1m-
pertinence, and even if he went to Hel-
en and explained the truth, she must
despise him. He would feel like a
booby, muking a confession with those
proud, dark eyes upon him.
He wrought himself inte a state of
high nervousness, This, added to the
heat of the weather und his growing ill-
health, had its effect—the oflice whirled
around one breathless morning, and he
fell senseless to the floor.
In a darkened room he tossed and
raved for several days before Doctor
Dudley got control of the overtasked
system,
Again that silvery voice smote the
tumult of his brain:
**Are you quite sure, doctor?’’
“Oh, yes! With rest and care he
will pull through. You are helping
him greatly, It 1s very good of you,
Miss Denbigh,”
“Oh, no; it is nothing. We know
his family, and he is away {rom home,
[ have sent for his mother, She will
be here to-morrow.”
These wae sometimes some one else
| in the room, but it was Helen when he
woke from sleep—a deep, beneficial
sleep—and found her sitting, patient
{ aud sweet, at the foot of his bed.
{ There was no pride in her dark eyes,
over him,
‘*Are you better?
me?”
“1 know you. 1 remember all;
| you despise me,’ he sald,
“No, no—oh, no! At the worst you
Dy you recognize
’
have stayed here three days.”’
“You are an angell’’ he
“Helen, why did you come?"
She tried to release her hands.
“Why, Doctor. Dudley told me you
had been seized with violeat
He recognized you as the young man
| who summoned him to me that night,
and what could I do less?”
Here she faltered. lis
sighed,
Hiness,
eyes were
The Turkish Path,
It is well known that the practice of
bathing was in general vogue among
the ancients as a means of promoting
health and prolonging life, The object of
bathing being to free the skin from the
accumulated deposits of Insensible pers-
piration. It i8 one of the most eflicient
restorers of health, vigor and beauty,
because it promotes the healthy action
of the whole systems, But the utility
of bathing depends upon the kind of
bath and the manner of bathing, The
first question therefore arises, ‘‘What
kind of bath 1s the most beneficial to
the human body?’ To the fortunate
person who has had the opportunity of
experiencing the delightful effects of a
Turkish Bath, the answer comes easy
and without hesitation, This bath puri-
fies, refreshes, and renovates the whole
system by the most thorough mode of
external ablution.
In the east no source of enjoyment is
deemed more essential to existence than
this bath, Such was the case also
among the Romans, whose baths were
conducted very much on the same prin-
ciples as the modern Turkish Bath,
The most famous physicians of both
anclent and modern times have recom-
mended its use, By the Stoic it was
deemed essential to virtue and by the
Epicurian to happiness,
How does a Turkish Bath act? Dy
open'ng the pores, by setting free the
accu ulated excretions, which have
clogecl and blocked up
system, and by excit-
brisk and
out the whole system.
timulating the whole frame it
and increases the secretions
from the blood
f the body. It
i to the surface and balance the
* Fry
13 OL Lhe
ng
araw)
of bi
circu
ean
Felon
pown to medical It
BCience,
"3
“Helen, ne
i
the litte
WUE LILLE,
that I am loving
white hands, **do you know
you every
'
ress, and more elegant
than any other woman I ever saw?
Y ou are perfect, while [—"'
“Hush! she interrupted, “I am
t only a useless butterfly, who never did
anything but fan my wings in
i shine, while you are respected
£1 Shs
Lie Sun-
1
| courage and all manly qualities. To
| walt upon you has been nothing to the
{task of interviewing
| stream of friends who have
| quire after you in your sickness,
| Ferguson himself has insisted
he
been to in-
Mr.
twice
Dudley 1s laid under heavy charges by
! him to have you righted, Oh, you are
| too modest by half”
“You are encouraging
“Well #7
me, Helen
out of this scrape,”
“How?”
“By asking you to be my wife,”
“On, you are laughed,
“You must not talk,’
*I shall talk all night if you do not
promise,”
“[—1 must promise, then,”
11 IL
ii, she
’
regular, free and full
In the
natural process which takes place when
the body 18 subjected to this bath, the
seven millions of pores of the human
body are freely opened and the vast net
work of blood vessels and nerves, two
thousand square inches In extent on
the skin of an ordinary sized man, and
of the finest conceivable textures, is
and brought uuder
the influence of this powerful agent,
It may be asked by some, “will not
an ordinary warm bath have the same
We answer, emphatically, no.
a daily bodily drainage through
of more than
fluid. The
the skin,
straight line, will
five miles in length.
There |
the
OuLCes
wl
SKin
of ducts of the
if placed in a
extend over twenty-
The skin is the
as the
Bath is, to keep this part of
the system in proper condition. DBe-
sides being a punfler of the blood, it is
also a beautifier, of the person. The
effects on the complexion are marvel
lous, The skin becomes clearer, the
whole person as-
and beautiful ap-
or womanhood
activity and bright
sumes the dignified
intelligence,
I AI 5 SA
and looked into her eyes. They were
very bright and sweet, He lay down
| with a hapfy sigh.
*I am going to get well, and I shall
{hold you to it, I am the happiest
| nan"?
The words drifted into an uninleili-
But weakness and pain were soon
| conquered by joy, and those who cal ed
and congenial young people who mar
ried in the autumn with simple rites
and perfect happiness,
ar a———————
Trae Marriage,
“Whenever,” says Gail Hamilton,
| “man pays reverence lo woman -—wheg-
lever man feels the influence of any
{ woman . purifying chastening,abashing,
| strengtheniog him against temptation,
| shielding him from evil, ministeriug to
| his self-respect, medicining his weari-
| ness, peopling his solitude, winning
{ bim from sordid prizes, enlivening his
monotonous days with mirth, or fancy,
| or wit, flashing heaven upon his earth,
| and mellowing it all for spiritual fer-
| tility—there is the element of marriage.
{| Whenever woman pays reverence Lo
| man--whenever woman rejoices in the
| strength of any man, feels it to God's
{agent, upholding her weakness, con-
| firming her purpose and crowning ber
power; whenever Le reveals himself
to ber; just, upright, inflexible, yet
tolerant, merciful,benignant, not unraf-
fled, perhaps, but not overcome by the
world’s turbulence, and responding to
all her gentleness her feet on the earth,
his head among the stars, helping her
to old her soul steadfast in the right,
to stand firm against the eneroach-
ments of frivolity, vanity, impatience,
fatigue, discouragement, helping her to
preserve her good nature, to develope
her energy, 10 consolidate ber tought,
to utilize ber benevolence Lo exalt and
illumine her life~there is the essence of
marriage. Its love is founded on re-
spect and increases self respect al the
very moment of merging sell in
another. Its love is mutual; equally
giving and receiving at every instant of
its action. There is neither dependence
nor independence. Years cannot
weaken its bonds, distance cannot
sunder them. It isa love which van-
quishes the grave, and transfigures death
itself into Nife.
~The Challis for summer woollen
dresses bave many of the same do
signs seen in the India silks, especially
the palm ves in outlines, intricate
arabesque. and the eashmere
stripes of many 4 on cream white
grounds. The Empire wreaths, gar-
lands, laurel leaves, with the small
chintz patterns of rose buds and other
ground cballls, Also tbe
Persian Ogures are seen on them.
. EER
#
How many people do we know who
You know people who eat heartily and
decently. But you koow very few
people who carry, through all the de-
mands and temptations
the absolute charm of perfect breeding.
final and often fatal
INANNErs,
It is the
gentle
table,
at the gentie-
and, for your own
be-
its
to believe in the superiority of
dog Tweezer, who handles
who
How
swoop and gulp, and they cram and
aurry away! You don’t wonder that at
least three-fourths of them have dys-
But do you wonder, if you are a woman,
that a least three-fourths of us idealize
these monsters of the table into Apollos
and Jupiters and fall down and wor:
ship them? You wonder at yourself
that you could ever have cried till your
head ached aud your nose was red, over
something he did or didn’t do; or,
worse, because vou loved so much this
dreadful animal which has just jumped
up and rushed from the table, leaving
you to contempla’e the havoc on his
the table cloth. You remember him
with supreme emotion of superiority
tor the nex: twenty-four hours.
Luck and Labor.
Many people compla'n of their bad
luck when they ought to blame their
want of wisdom and action, Cobden,
a distinguished writer in England, thus
wrote about luck and labor:
Luck is everything, waiting for some-
thing to turn up. Labor, with keen
eyes and strong will, will turn upsome-
thing.
hy lies in bed, and wishes the poat.
man would bring him the news of a
legacy. Labor turns out at six o'clock,
and with busy pen or ring-hammer lays
the foundation of a competence,
Luck whines,
Labor whistles,
Luck relies on chances,
Labor on character.
Luck slips down to indigence,
Labor sirides upward to independence,
FASHION NOTES,
While violets are now preferred
by bridesmalds, to any other flowers,
~Slk aprons are very popular, A
very pretty one was seen made of
pungee, with facings of velvet.
~-A handsome evening dress is of
blue dotted gauze over a blue silk
skirt, edged with a heavy pinked silk
rouche, The slightly draped overskirt
bas a broad gold band on the edge,
sleeves and collar have similar bands,
The walst 18 arranged surplice style.
~There 18 a new color coming in,
which it is prophesied is to be the one
particular tone of the season—Flamme
de Porch, the amethyst tone of spiric
when subjected to fire, A pretty gown
in this was made in brocatelle broche of
subdued coloring, as a polonaiece, with
passementerie ornaments, These bro-
pades are sometimes a migture u wool
and silk, with conventions! floral pat-
terns, such as we have generally em-
ployed as furnishing materials, and
these will be the fashion in the near
future,
- For spring and summer dresses
India silks have come In new and
large designs of flower branches,
leaves, vine stripes, and In many
Persian patterns thickly covering the
surface, or else with Persian stripes
| alternating with plain stripes of China
| blue, old rose, or grayish green, The
| gray India silks are far more delicate
| and among the most refined of all,
{| with their deeper toned gray figures,
For those with gay tastes, the ca‘li-
| mere patterns of palms in bandana and
{ Oriental colors will no doubt be suit-
| able,
~-A new and handsome trimming
| placed on the hems of double cash
mere gowns and soft cloth woolen
stuffs 1s leather, either untapned of a
| beige hue, with embroidery or metal
| threads, or black morocco in a deep red
{ ground, All the patterns originate in
| the Empire modes. In fact the Empire
| is coming generally to the fore, and for
young girls nothing is lkely to be so
much worn as Lhe Empire styles, the
sack almost covering the bust, the
waist very short, the bows at the back
of the waist reaching to the shoulder
| blades, and the bodice itself crossing
back and front, the skirt undraped but
trimmed toward the hem,
~The Directolre and Euwpire de.
signs and colors have become so grad-
ually popular that they will be con-
tinued the spring and summer; they are
{ already seen In the bright stuffs im-
ported for the frst spring dresses, The
| spring wocllens are twilled serges of a
| solid color in the fashionable shades of
zrayish green, metal blue, old rose, or
| sable brown, to be used as a jong red.
ingote, which opens over a brocaded
front—a vest and a
| color, There ought to be colors in con-
| trast such as beige figures on Empire
| green, copper on ecru, blue on gray,
{and blue on old rose, Gay Persan
| borders of great width are woven at
{ the foot of some of these gowns, and a
parrower border is added for trimming
the bodice,
-The *“*Hading’ jacket is a stylish
and graceful garment which importers
| report as being very popular just now
‘in London and Paria, It is cut in
| of fur, Krimmer, heavy matelasse, and
| also of plain dark moss green velvet or
| black velvet opening over a white
{ corded silk walst coat when of the lal-
| ter color, ana of deep pioe yellow Oi
itoman when of the green, Silk
soutache, exira wide, and matching
the jacket in color, nearly covers the
| sleeves are close aud long, and there is
{ a very high collar and deep wrist trim-
| ming of sable fur.
| -=The more modest bodices,
{only half low at the neck and with
| fuil sleeves that cover the arms almost
| to the elbows, are taking the place of
| the low necks of the evening dresses,
| whieh have mere straps on the should.
| ers for sleeves, by the women of fash
fon, Some of these new half jow
| bodices are gathered full over
| bust, they may be cut round in the
| neck or pointed In V shape, or else In
| square pompadour fashion, The back
is also gathered if desired at the neck
and waist line, and the broad sash is
used to give the short Empire waist
effect, These are very becoming to
slight figures. To those who do not
wish to conceal the graceful taper of
the waist we will say that the long
pointed corsages are still worn, and we
think a good plan is to have the bodice
made long enough to wear over the
skirt when desired, and when you
wish to wear the sash, put the waist
under the skirt,
~The continued mild weather we
have been having up to the end of
last week has given us a foretaste
of spring, and already dry goods
stores are blossoming with new cotton
goods. The Scotch ginghams, sateens,
and other goods for midsummer dresses
are displayed in the windows. Green
and yellow shade: are the novelties in
ginghams and are found in yellow on
the stripes, in corded yellow stripes on
white, and in plaids, while the green
shades are not confined to white com-
binations, but are stripad and barred
with brown, with old rose, or ma’ og-
came Into favor last summer and are
again repeated both in bright and dail
hues, in eerise, in brick red, in old
rose, in dull copper, and In bright
crimson, The gray and white striped
gighams and the clear bine stripes
alternating with gray will make cool
Faia
faba
HORSE NOTES.
~The approaches to Jerome
are being improved,
~—Kingston, Firenzi, 8ir Dixon,
Tarchmont and Donnybrook have been
declared ont of the Suburban handi-
cap.
- Byron McClelland has purchased
from George Cadwalader the chestnut
colt 2, by Fouso, dam Miss McGowan,
by Springbok,
~McAuliffe, who has charge of the
horses Ocean and California, at New
Orleans, is a brother of Jack McAuliffe,
the prize fighter,
~The party of horsemen from Phila-
delphia who went to Woodward’s big
sale of trotlers, at Lexmgton, are
expected homes om Thursday February
21st,
«Captain 8, 8. Brown has been
| asked by George Hankins te name a
price on his {CT
&
Park
{Captain’s Brown’ entire
stable, with the single exception of
Troubadour.
—J. E. Madden, of Philadelphia, has
sold to H. M. Davis, of Ohlcago, the
black gelding Wilkins, 6 years old, by
George Wilkes, dam by Mambrino
Patchen, for $2,500,
—Darnes has not been seen in the
saddle much of late. The fact of it is
bis employer, Tucker, is averse lo risk-
ing the crack light weight in scram-
bles over bad tracks,
~The chestnut gelding T. T. 8,,
2.19}, by Melrose, has been sold by T,
Sweut, of Hoosick Falls, N. Y., to the
agents of a German horseman tor the
reported sum of $9000,
~Champagne Charlie, the crack 2
| year old of last vear, has developed
| into a large roomy looking animal, and
! the injuries he received to his leg last
{ ~The Los Angeles Association has
{ offered a purse for all aged pacers, to
be decided next spring. Adonis, Gold
Leaf, Almont Patehen, Yolo Maid and
| Johnston are asked to start,
| -The highest priced animal sold at
| the Brasfield sale was the bay 2 year
{oid filly Lady Prospect, by Lord Rus-
i sell, dam Prospect Mald, 2.234, by
i George Wilkes Price, $5,000
| ~The bay filly Mary Linn, by Mes.
| sepger Chief, which was soid for $1425
at the Woodard sale, lLexingten, Ky.,
is a full sister to Messenger Girl, out
of the dam of Prince Wilkes (2.14%).
| Messenger Girl is the properly of Wil-
| lam M. Singerly.
| George Forbes, of Woodstock,
{ Canada, has sold Blizzard and O. K.,
{to Mr, Kidd, of Listowell., Blizzard is
| 4 bay horse by Onward, 2.25{, out of
Little Fortune, by Scott's Thomas. O,
K.1s a 3 year old by Brown Wilkes
out of the dam of Oliver K , 2.16].
~The stallion Anteeo, record 2.16},
by Electioneer, dam Columbine by A.
W. Richmond was purchased for $30,
000 by 8. A. Browne & Co., of Kala-
mazoo, and M., R. Bissell, of Grand
Rapids, Mich., at Lexington, Ky., on
Thursday Feb,, 21st,
~Mr, D. T. Pulsifer, the well known
turfman, has transferred his entire lot
of broodmares and the stallion Panster,
by King Ban, dam Pazzie, te Hon. J.
H. Mulligan, of lexington, who is
going ioto the breeding business quite
extensively.
~1), B. Herrington stakes that the
Hudson River Driving Park Associa
tion has ‘ecided to give two guarantee
| stakes of $5000 each, with 6 per cent.
| entrance fee, at the summer meeting
{in August, The classes will be 2.24
and 2.50, payable in four payments of
| $75.
-The chestnut stallion Colonel
West, by Almont out of the dam of
the pacer Billy S., 2.144, has been pur-
{ chased by Dr. Lyford, of Minneapolis,
from T. C. Roberts, of di. Joseph,
Mo. This horse is the sirs of Lorene,
2. 15}; Westmont, 2.24; Mable H.,
2.29; aud others,
- When Merrill & Scott, sold thel:
| baif Interest in Patron it was stipuia-
ted that they should receive two of the
| first foals got by him at.the Forest
City Farm. The ones selected were
the fillies Patti Hunter and Sequel.
Pati Hunter 1s out of the tamous pac-
ing mare Mattie Hunter, while S-quel’s
dam was Secret, 2.20}, by Strathmore
out of a daughter of the mare thal
produced Tucker, 2 19,
~The value of trotting bred colts
will soon be largely determined by the
number and value of ils stake engage.
ments, Ths is already the case with
running bred youngsters. Entries for
the stakes of the National Association
of Trotting Horse Breeders will clos:
on March 11 at the Secretary's office,
room 151, No. 1 Broadway, New York
city, These slakes are open to the
worid, the only qualification necessary
at Detroit next September,one in 1800,
five in 1801, and two in 1892,
-The trotters are getting “on top.”
Twelve of them sold for $171 000, ac
average of $14,250, Mr.
Massachusetts, paid $60,000 for seven
horses —three 3 year olds, three 2
and one %