The Birthday Gift. sss BY J.T. TROWDRIDGE, Where {he willows that overhang the lane Make a pleasant shade in the golden weather, Through gleams that flicked on flank and mane, The mare and her colt come home together, Over them softly, one by one. 1 see the yellowing leaflets fall, And like brighter spots of sun Un the waded turf and gray stone wall. Of all the scenes in my life, to-day, That is the one which 1 remember ; How sweetly on all the landscape lay The mellow sunlight of Negte ben! It slept in the boughs of the hazy wood. On glimmering stubble and stacks of grain, nd there at the farmyard bars we stood While the mare and her colt came ne A up the With hand on the i stood while farm-boy Fred, Reached over and shook at mare, A handful of oats in my hat, tocall her, 1! a form 1 loved came close behind, \ hand i loved on my shoulder lay. And a dear voice spoke, ~80 gentle and kind, Ah, would I could hear its tones to-day! bars and curly head bare, who was taller, the proud, shy re isn't a handsomer colt in town! Just look at that beautiful neck and shoulder! His color will change tO & chestnut brown To mateh your curls as he grows older ; This is your brthday,—let me seo!" The hand went higher and stroked my head; “1'H make you a present, what shall it be?” «¢). father! give me (he colt!" 1 sand. Ihe was mine. —how proud was I! loves croaked on the low, brown the coll he white ¢ gable, ken swallows went skimming by, ng in and out of the sunlit stable: — 111 recall each sight and sound hat filled the heart of the happy boy. vd left one day in my memory Crow ned I sr with ght and color and joy. Selected The Bishop and the Peasant Boy. BY BEATRICE HARRADEN, estas Ose hot summers morning in the vear 1394, a young peasant boy of about feurteen years of age, trudged on his way to the city of wir chester, England. He had j» neyed many miles, his feet were rire, and his whole frame worn: but even weariness had not been able to chase away the eager look from his face. There was was —————————————— The stranger smiled. He was leased with the little peasant boy, who had the artist's soul, and the artist's enthu- sinsm and courage. “Come,” he said. And he took him onthedral, and showed him the designs of the alterations which the bishop bad planned himself; and Stephen stood by his side lost in wonder and delight. Child, though he was, he realized the grandeur of the bishop's intentions. “How he must love his cathedral!” he cried. **Ah, it I could only work for him! If you know him, take me to him: he will be kind, I am sure. In- deed, I must go to him.” The stranger laid his hand on the boy's head. “Sometimes, my son,” he whispered, “those for whom we wish are nearer than we think. And William of Wyke- ham has been near thee all this time, smiling in the sunshine, fear, for he will be altogether thy friend, because thy father sent thee to him, and because thou hadst the cour- age to come, and because thon lovest William of Wykeham's workman, and his friend.” And the good bishop led the little ed him, and offered up a prayer that help him to work earnestly and hands and holy zeal to his heart. Now this is the story of the boy work- man, Stephen, whom William of Wyke- ham loved. He worked in the cathe- dral for ten until the good bishop died. It is not known, for certain, years, ter and beautify. But when 1 go there, and look at that daintily-sculptured chantry in which William of Wykeham hes, Ilike to think that Stephen's mind designed it, and Stephen's hands con- something in him which could not but interest the passers by, and some of | them stopped and sj oke kindly to him, and offered him food from their wal lots, and asked him whence he had | come, and where he was going. «I um going to see William of Wyke- ham.” he answered to all their ques- tions “And with W v Old i what canst thou be wanting | of Wykeham?” asked s | sull friar. *‘I tell thee itis no easy matter to see the good bishop, and thon art but a peasant lad at the William of Wykeham will have nought to do with thee.” ‘Nay, good brother,” sang out the | lusty voice of a ploughman; “there is | ot much comfort in thy words. Take no heed of him, my lad. God speed n thy way to William of Wyke- | 11: HAI Dest thee Of han . And he went off singing some cheery | melody, leaving Stephen all the better for his kind words and his encouraging | manner: and as he walked on alone he was so busy thinking, that he did not | hear the sound of horse's hoofs, until a loud shout ke him from his dreams, snd looking up, he saw a knight on a richly caparisoned horse. “Why, thou art a dreamer,” said the knight. . “I all but knocked thee down. | I shouted to thee, too.” And tl Lae 1 chivairou 3 i Ww L being kind and as became his knighthood, bore Ste on his horse until they | came just outside the city, and then he | rode away, and the child passed on, | ful! of courage and gratitude. When Le got to the cathedral the ser- | vice was just ending. He watched the procession of priests winding through | the nisles, and listened to their low chanting. He had never before been | ia such a great church, and his heart | was filled with reverence and devotion. | He sat there, a little peasant figure, his face upturned, as though searching for (God, his bands clasped before him. There was a perfect stillness all around, | {or the service having ended, the peo- | ple and the priests had left the cathe- dral, and he alone lingered behind. And im the spell of the silence, he ght of his father, who with his last breath had bidden him come to the good bishop, and offer the serviee of his hands, those hands so skilful to de- sign beantiful forms, and so apt at sculpturing and carving. He was young and had much to learn, but he was will- ing to give all his life and all his labor | to the noble art of architecture, which his father had tanght him to love. Well, Stephen was weary, and after some time he fell asleep, smiling to think that at least he had carried out part of his father's wishes, and had journeyed to the city, where William of Wykeham lived. Ho must have been there more than an hour, when the door of the sacristy was opened, and a man of noble eoun- tenance and stately manner eame into the cathedral, carrying in his band several designs which he studied ecare- fully. He was dressed in a plain black gown, like any priest of those times might have worn when not taking part in the services of the Church. He passed down, and came to the place where Stephen lay, still sleeping and smiling. He paused in front of the child, and took pleasure in look’ng at his beautiful face. He bent over the peasant boy and touched him gently on the shoulder, and Stephen Rd and shrank back on seeing a stranger. “Nay, thou must not fear me,” said the stranger kindly. “I saw thee sleep- ing hers, and wouid fain help thee, my son. Who art thou, snd whence art thou come?’ His manner was so gentle and father. ly that Stephen lost all fear, and draw- ing nearer to him, told him how he had journeyed from afar to come to William of Wy . “I'm not afraid to come to him,” he said, eagerly, “for father said he was good, and that he would help me in my work ; aud that perhaps, if he thought I had the skill, he would let me work in the grest cathedral. So I shall see him and ask him and tell him what I ean do, snd beg him on my knees to let me work in the great cathedral! Father wonld have come too, but father died, and so I had to come alone. Itssemed lonely at first; but if I ean only see the good bishop I shall not feel lovely any more. ‘And if be thinks Iam not clever enough to be his workman, I will go on joutuing, learning, until [ am clever enough. oan p Sige learn.” thes He spoke eagerly, and his face wai flrabed Ai. pole trived it in loving labor. Exchange. THE FLOWER GARDEN. ICELAND POPPIES, The fragrant elegant ernshed satin like flowers of bright yellow, vivid scarlet or purest white are produced in from the be- ginning of June to October. Not only attractive in the garden, but for in # cut state they are simply unsurpassed, and they last quite if cut as soon as they are open. They will flower the first season from seed, though they are hardy herbace- ous plants, and will last for several vears. For borders or lawn v nothing will give better satisfaction. sNCcession ele FRCS » » DOWDY GARDENS, ® ican Garden by a man who has spent Aorienitural work contains iat so mnch that is of value, that 1t is and magazine in the land. “Some gardens have a look much than that of neglect: they are “dowdy.” One cause for this is over- crowding. The plants bave neither them to develop their forms or flowers. plained bitterly because his flowers had six square feet each, and they com- pletely covered the space. Plants should be thinned soon after they are t a strong, healthy growth. Another cause of “dowdy gardens” is 8 desire to have a little of everything in a space only sufficient to grow a few things well. Form and color are so in- And still we are ask- As well might we call an artist's times as or do Ten well is noticeable. plants as look A plant is never so beautiful as when grown to perfection. This cannot be done if it is crowded or in tho shade of trees or walls. It is better to have a single specimen s floral hospital. A single plant of good zinnia will adorn a garden for what is pleasing if it does not suffer by comparison. Plant a few things and give them a living chance.” This is the same line of argument we have used in the Hovarwire for many months: the line between the artistio and the “dowdy” is not so sharply drawn as it should be. One must have an artistic taste to get the full benefit of work among the flowers, half their beauty comes from a proper blending of colors with each other and the sur- roundings whatever they may be. The Father and Mother of Salt, Near the mouth of the Rio Negro in the Argentine Confederstion, uth America, are many Salina’s or little salt lakes. The borders of these lakes are formed of mud, in which numerous large crystals of Uypeus, some of them three inches long, lie embedded. On the surface of the mud many other orystais of sulphate of soda lie seatter- ed about. As these two crystals are always on the borders of the salinas, when the water begins to evaporate, the Guachos, or natives of the Pampas, say that the existence of the salt is owing to the matting of these two minerals they call the Gypsum the ‘‘Padre del Sel” or Father of Salt, and the soda they call its “Madre” or Mother. Mus, Osean Wikon, Mrs. Alma Ta dems, and several titled Indies in Lon- don have organized an association whose business it 1s to supbi tasteful and weli-made outfits for ¢ ren and young girls, and to furnish r lar em- ployment to gentlewomen of narrow means, who do all the nesdle-work. eh e—————————————— A AA sre: SOCIAL ETIOUETTE: ds on the Formalities i Dinner Giving. George W. Chil of Dining anc Few persons would find more inter- ested listaners when discoursing on the etiquetio of dining and dinner giving than Mr. George W. Childs, of Phila- delphia, the fame of whose elegant hos- tality to the highest notabilities of rian conntries, as well as to the most distinguished of his own country- men, is world wide. His o inions, as gathered in conversation, Fa lately been reported in Good House keeping, and from them the following points are gleaned: There are evident reasons why invi- tations to a dinner party should be ac- cepted or declined, if possible on the very day they are received, as this will enable the host to invite others in the place of those who may decline. On the evening in question the guests should make it a point of honor to be yunetual. No dilatory person should Before the dressing room, gentlemen leave their the servand in charge is written, card on which At the door of lady who has accompanied him to the house and both descend to the drawing room. In passing down the staircase, the gentleman either takes the side do (rentlemen the gentleman is in mourning, he wears a black instead of a white necktie, Meanwhile host and hostess wait near the door of the drawing-room in order to welcome the coming guests, ln en- tering this room or the dining-room, the lady may take either theleft arm of her escort or the right, though to me 1% the left arm should be given to a lady. It is frequently necessary to intro- is to escort to the table and, dinner par ies, the envelope containing the names of those who are to sit side by side is omitted. In that case, a is sufficient. The custom of “roof introductions,” as they are termed, has been instituted in this country, but, to my mind they There is no reason why all who assem- ble at the same time and place should not know each other. Intimacy is an- other and a d: erent thing; but Chris- tian courtesy teaches thai tions are incumbent those would entertain at their best ny peo] our he Surely, to ve them pleasure. what plessure can it be to with a fell neerning whose pame, tastes, LabDIls and interest we may possibly know nothing? When dinper is sanounced by butler to the host, that gentleman leads the way to the dining-room, in ecom- pany with the most notable or the eld- est lady present, the rear being brought up by the most who Why on do we iter we 10 i And Ki OW guest of the 3 le on the sontlomar genliemnn POR LeRR, arm of the prominent it g without saying that host and hostess sit opposite each other in the centre or at the ends of the table, with the honored | guests at the right of each. Menus are out of date except at large dinners I'wo or three copies of the menu, written on porcelain tablets, are sometimes passed from hand to hand. There has been introduced a fashion which gives quite a variety to the en- tertanment. When the dinner is part ly over, and during the removal of the plates of any special course, at a signal from the host any gentleman may change his seat with another, either near him or ata little distance [his breaks up monotony and promotes so- cial converse Ladies and gentlemen withdraw from the table together, or, ass often the | case, the gentlemen arise and the ladies retire, leaving the gentlemen to smoke. Guests are expected to leave by or be- fore 11 o'clock. HR B on —— Mending. Beventy Five Years ago, in what was then far west, use for a certain length of time in This precions implement was one day lost by a woman who had carelessly the next When this fact became known, a search- ing party was organized, consisting of men, women and children. After a the almost trackless forest, under fallen leaves and through the thick grass, the bit of shining metal was at length dis- eovered by the sharp eyes of a child, and greeted with cheers and shouts as fervent as though it had been the great Kohinoor. In those days stockings were stock- ings, home-knit nnd all wool, if not a yard wide, and the toilful care expend- ed in their making demanded that their mending be assiduously accomplished, while something more than an embroid- ery needle was needed to carry the length of the home-spun yarn. hese durable, warmth-giving hose are fast disappearing with the ‘good old times” over whieh all sigh, but to which, after all fow would really return. A friend was recently visiting in the town of B. with her husband. Finding it necessary to repair the good man’s hose, she sallied forth to purchase a darning needle, but no such article could be found at any of the stares, and the befrizzled ‘‘salesladies” regarded her request in much the same way as though she had ssked for a tinderbox and flint, or a pair of snuffera, Like some other things, mending may be carried to such a length as to cease to be a means of sconomy. Time is the most valuable thing at our com- mand. Cloth and all manufactured ar- ticles are much and move easily procured than was the case even a gen- gration , and we can readily an spending over a worn garment as much, or more time as would suffice to earn the money to purchase new, is what might be called penny-wise and pound foolish. T'o mend properly and anafly, it is necessary to have a bag or which are collected all the materiale needed in the work, Needles of var- ious sizes, yarns both eotton and woolen and of various grades and colors, bits of flannel or old hose to patch those too far gone for darning, pieces of esotton-flannel for lining the heels, and a stretcher to keep the work smooth and save unnecessary tiring of the fiug- ors, Every good housekeeper will have besides this mending basket, a box in which are stored pieces of all the cloth- ing in active use,the bundle belonging to any particular garment being remov- ed when that is past wearing, Calicoes and ginghams should be mended be- ironing helps to render it invisible. Before the clean white clothes are laid away in the drawers, all rips, tears and frayed button-holes must be mend- ed, and missing buttons replaced. When a'button is torn from the cloth, sew under carefully a double piece of the goods. This will render it as strong ton is in plaee. Great care must be exercised in mend- ing striped, checked or figured goods | to match she figure perfectly, ns well | as to have the patch run the same way of the cloth. Patches for boys’ cloth- ing will be less conspicuous if laid in | the sun to fade in conformity with the | worn garment. Patches are indispens- | able on the clothing of these restless | little bodies, but we injure their self- | of a circus clown. To fit and neatly set in a patch, run the edges and ent diagonally into | each corner one-fourth inch. Have the same way. Cut this seems larger than the it is to fill, and baste in | tion. 'I'nrn to see if it is all right, and if so, sew with short, close but not joo drawn stitches, Open the and press on the wrong side and if the work is well done, the patch will be rather ornamental than other- | wise. Should both knees of a pair of pants need mending, cat the patches i of the same size, Small tears in woolen goods should | be darned with ravellings of the same, having first put under a piece of the | oloth, and afterwards pressed carefully. { the | ge youd patch two | tightly | BOCINS mended with bits of eourt plaster, and if the lace curtains become torn, wet » piece of lace in starch and iron it on the wr ide of the curtain. -- Seles The New York Woman, ong Mrs. Les C. Harby, the Southern writer, contributes a well-written arti- to the Jllustrated American, the attractive news-magazine just started in New York, which is commanding very favorab’e atiention. The article is entitled “Through Individual Glas- ses.” and contrasts Northern and South- men and women, their | street manners, ete., Mrs, Har of New York women The New York Ro charming is she in the majority that nor y notice the disagreeable minority who might : iL wisi} nnoy Her breadth of thought is apparent, snd her ability to argue outside of her own possibilities attracts to her an appreciative ment. She meets them equal and has often a conviction that she is the | ahe is aware of her own abilities and ean well take the step from knowing to doing, which Emerson tells us “is a step from the chalk circle of imbecility into fruitfalness” step Southern woman, with all seldom learns to take. The per, with perhaps less talent, and cer- tainly less attraction, utilizes it all, and it grows in the use. Her force, anergy, vim and self-assertion give her | power, and she makes herself felt. She keeps her eyes very wide open indeed, and her effort to arrive at the “‘true in- | wardness of thmgs” brosdens and strengthens her intellect. She has less pulture, grace and polish than her 1 Cie ern halnis, iY Bays woman is delightfal! fs 4 no Lime inclination is jell masculine ele at least secret i on ground, a her gifts, Iy knowledge and more comprehensive grasp of human nature make her listen- ed to and quoted in the world of men; while the Southerners gain in { what they lose in fame. | It is pleasant to meet the New Yorker in the busy rush of her daily life. Her active individuality givesan impetus to | society, not found elsewhere. True, | she has her notions, her fads; but she is tolerant to those of others, knowing well her own need of toleration. Bhe | has few prejudices, and is apt to be | guilty of the petty meanness which makes women envious of each other. i Her self-appreciation is too largely de- { voloped for that; but, even outside of | that quality, she feels no jealousy of Yer sister's success. She is glad of every upward step the other takes. Does not she too tread the broad road to better things? They will be of mu: tual assistance. So she gives and re- ceives help in words of praise—en- couraging to greater effort and attain ment. But though she cheerfully promotes success, she does not pause to comfort failure. The woman who stumbles and slips back a step is lost in the general rush. The others surge ahead of her. They give no tender, pitymng word, no helping hand. They are too busy, too sarnest, too intent on gaining their own goal. The energetic life she leads de- prives the Northern woman of many ot those softer graces which so distin. guish the Southerner, making her an angel of consolation, a messenger of food cheer; a pathetic, comforting, oving and lovable woman. “ —————e—— Tur popular suthoress and news writer, Eleanor Kirk, is of med- um height, somewhat stout, but very guiek in her movements, er face in its profile reminds one of Henry Ward which ia hair. Her address her as ** Kirk,” but she Mrs. E. M. Ames, and has been a w for many years, made Seancu for diamonds is ot by the French Government down 1,600 foot has been pro- colony of New ao vided. Our Fashion Letter. 1n all the large dressmaking estab- lishments, there reigns just now, an indescribable confusion, for there exists an absolute necessity of creating some- thing new, something marvellous for the coming season, One season scarce rare and beautiful novelties, to grace the form and please the taste of their patrons for the future season. Fach house desires to have its fabries, its embroideries and ornaments, indeed with which it has to do, id, if possi- ble, more fascinating thau those oi its neighbors. we have seen during the last few days, in one of our most prominent and ex- | elusive houses, is a fabric as yet | by only a favored few, I he first thing | about it. which claims the attention, is | the Hindu squares of marvellon colors | ont a fabrie soft as Thibet wool have seen nothing which resembles | this magnificent fabric, with its broad | checked stripes of two and shades. The shade of the widest stripe | sleeves and for panels for the Even in dreams, one could | anything altogether fascinating. | talent of a great artist mu | employed to compose a | strangely entrancing. For eool evenings at the seashore, or in the mountains, costumes of Hun- garian bure are prepared, which have a 80 Surely, it have costume 80 | Bquares. Two or three | shades form points as 1s seen in the Hungarian embroidery so much ad- mired. In woolYabrics this isa novelty fashionable creations, From the great variety and beautiful summer. | realize the beauty and charm of | fabrics without seeing them. A certain | class of these goods have all the ap- pearsnes of being wool, the colors and | designs being unusual and such as have | thus requiring a practiced eye to detect the difference. With all these charm: being extremely firm in texture, seem | to be losing favor. Old-fashioned, organdy muslins, | which were once so popular, are again taken into favor, but are brought ont with new designs of loosely scattered, long-stemmed flowers. White muslins will also be very popular; they are ywn with finely dotted surfaces strewn i if flowers. If in skirt they have Vand} kes, bands of r drawn work above » deep ered muslin for waists, of plain, white with small d tiny rnorthia iis, ‘ t inseriion + Y) } ri Hem. PANO sleeves dresses come #] trefoils or A 3 insook can be found in white gro ind Skirts vokes Wns, eur-de-1isg. all white, smbroidery is done on §Ps OF Tin, ox 3) re i 4 expect { yn fabrics, are made quite plain, all the trimming of the gown being put on the bodice and The latest in yokes are deep, square or pointed in front, but very shallow in the With are worn bishop with deep wrist-bands, There was never anyt prettier than ribbons for trimming; so every- { one will be glad to know that they are being used, very freely. Neck ribbons crossed in front with floating ends, shoulder knots in long looped bows, bows on the inside seams of thesleeves, rosettes to fasten ribbon belts, or the | nbbon passed once or twice around the | waist and fastened in front, or the | side, 1n a cluster of loops. Waistooats are now considered an in- dispensible part of ladies’ wardrobe, | and those made of the same material as the dress snd embroidered in silk of a deeper shade, are very beautiful. Still while they are so fashionable, and so | beautiful, yet there are but few who ean | wear them, especially those of maternal | different from the dress, without de. | tracting from that innate womanliness { which is inherent in all. The daintioss of all the modiste’s ore- | ations are the summer bonnets, we will | not include the hats, although they are | not to be overlooked. | A charming capote has a bandeau of | open straw work iasterlaced with narrow green-velvet ribbon; and the crown of | dotted straw tulle. On the front a cluster of lemon-colored roses, with loops of green velvet ribbon and a wired butterfly of Chantilly lace oot sleeves, designs back. these BlOUYOS hin ang on Another is of lace straw lined with cream-colored tnlle, and narrow velvet strings to match. The front of the capote is laid in small pleats filled in with the tulle. On the top, loops of velvet ribbon to match, and white satin ribbon broeaded with gold, and a white aigrette. A beautiful hat was of lace slightly curved It was lined with green velvet and on the top of the crown was a cluster of deloate lilacs with folinge and loops of green velvet ribbon ;s0 graceful was the ar Tangemant, that it seemed as if the blossoms ha boen carelessly thrown there, covering the crown and half resting on the brim. Church Manners. Be on time. Noone has a right to disturb a congregation or preacher by being tardy. Never talk or whisper in church, es pecially after the exercises are opened, Do not put on your overcoat or adjust ings until after the services fore or after church, Never look atcund 10 5¢8 who 1s Som HORSE NOTES, ~NAavover may be placed in the stud at McGrathiana, —Reclars has a splint and has been let up iu her work. — Eureka stable’s bay Gilly has been scratched from "1oboggan slide, —Jock«y MeCarthy has been set | down for the remainder of the sea- | SON. —Lowland Girl, 2.19}, has dropped la fine Llack colt by Ambassador, 3.214. — There will be a trotting meeting at | Nashville, Tenn, begluning on | tember 20, A | foaled Farm. ~Little Minch, now 11 years old, started at the Memphis meeting, but | did not get a place. —Wiiilam Faston has gold Eolian to Messrs, Kohrs and Billenberg, of Deer i Lodge, Montan --C. B. Hawkins recently had a full | brotiu r to Longstreet fouled at his {arm near Lexington, Ky. ar. ep brother to Connemara has been at Mr. Cassat 's Chesterbrook Senator Hearst’s Almont ran a mile 1414, at Ban Francisco, on April 15, with 114 pounds, —A. Nightingall, rider of let, the winner of the Grand National, at Liv- erpool, received one present of £1,00.0 in tu ~ A great deal of work has been done | on the Linden (XN. J.) track since last | fall. and it is now suid to be a sale and fast course, —Green Brothers—Jimmy and Dan | —0f Wawaset Driving Park, Wilming- | ton, Del., have over twenty horses in | thelr statle, | = Bow Bells, the 3-year-old brother of Bell Boy, injured himseif at the | Hermitage Stud, and will not be trained | this scason. —Isaac Flemming will book Aubine land Lady Wellington to a ©68-pound skeleton wagon when he tries to break | the double {eam record, —The Hartford Purse, $10,000, for | yearlings, to be trotled in 1802, when | colts and fillies are 3-year-olds, will close on Monday, May 5. — Among the pew features which Mr. Morris purposes adding to West. | chester a tan gallop, under Cover, | perhaps for winter purposes. | J. H. Snultz’s stalilon Crescento, record 2 24, 7 years old, by Mambrino Dudley, dam Mayenne, by Wedgewood, died from internal troubles recently. —Jockey Fox was ruled off at Mem- phis 6a wise 18th for pulling Joe Wal- tos in the Peabody Hotel stakes on the 16th, -8. WW, 's brown colt Senti- ment, formerly Prince George, has been declared out of all engagements {at Wesichester. Palisade, by Powhatan, dam Indem- . by Tipperary, recently worked a mile at Lexington in 1.43, the best | time to dale. | ~The New York Senate at Albany {on April 15 passed the bill extending | the Ives pooi-tax of 5 per cent. to the | gross receipts and membership dues of racing associations, ~The work of seedling, manuring, plowing, harrowing and rolling the track at Hartford is already completed, and the track is both soft and springy to the horses’ hoofs. ~The Maples Stud (J. T. & Son's), of Council Bluffs, Ia., lost on March 26, the imp. bay mare Chatter. box, foaled 1886, by The Speaker, dam Lady Di, by King John. —Colonel ¥. E. Braes, a noted mem- ber of the English turf and breeder of St. Gatien, who made a dead heal with Harvester for the Derby at Epsom in 184, committed suicide by shooting himself with a revolver on April ZL —Robesplerre’s success in the Ten- nessce Derby recently at Memphis wil serve to make him in some demand for the Kentucky Derby. He is a full brother to Jacobin, and cost the Chi- cago Stuble $4000 as a yearling. —The well-known brood-mare Het- tie R. died recently at Captain ¥Frank- lin’s Kennesaw Stud, Gallatin, Tenn. She was a bay mare, bred by Captain | Frapklin in 1878, by imp. Glengarry, dam Kathleen (George Kinney's dam), by Lexington. | ~The Sire Bros., of New York, have bought from A. C. Beckwith, Evaun- | ston, Wyo., the hH-year-old roan mare | Wanita, by Aberdeen, dam Wyoming | Belle, by Lowe's Pilot. She had a 3- | year-old record of 2.24}, aod a 4-year old record of 2.203. John E. Turner { will train ber this year. — According to the Memphis corre- spondent of the N ashville American Proctor Knott's left fore leg is a litte |suspicious. It is the one that he ‘struck In the Twin City handicap at | Sheepshead Bay last fall, and there Isa | little knot, something like a splint, half way between the knee and ankle, near the middie tendon. ~During the Winter Meeting of the Passaic County Agricultural Society at Clifton, which contipued ninety-two days, 500 races were run, the omount of money distributed being $223 973. There were 193 different winning owners, those credited with $1000 or D. A. Honig and J. H. MeCormick, leading with $23,054 and $14,807 respectively. —There are ninoteen subscribers to the Merchants’ and Manufacturers’ Guaranteed Stake of $10,000 to be trot- ted at the summer meeting of the De- ving Club, July 22 to 25, 1890, Bloomi * . is Street iis Milky Stewart
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers