rer —————————————— A Housekeeper's Tragedy. One day as I wandered I heard a complaining And saw a poor woman the picture of gloom ; She glared at the mud on her doorsteps ("twas raining), And this was Ler wail as she wielded the broom: “0h, life is a toil and love Is a trouble And beauty will fade and riches will flee; And pleasures will dwindle and prices they double, And nothing Is what 1 could wish it to be, “There's too much of worriment goes to a bon- net; There's too much of ironin There's nothing that pays waste on it; 1here's nothing that lasts but trouble and dirt. 2068 to a shirt: or the time you “in March it is mud; {t's slush in November; The midsummer breezes are loaded with dust; «In Fall the leaves litter; in muggy September The wall-paper rots and the candlesticks rust “There are worms In the cherries and slugs in the roses, And ants in the sugar and mice in the ples; The rubbish of spxiers no mortal supposes, And ravaging roaches and damaging flies: “With grease and with grime from corner to centre Forever at war and forever alert, No rest for a day lest the enemy enter— I spend my whole life in a struggle with dirt, “Last night In my dreams I was stationed for- ever On a bare little isle {in the midst of the sea: My one chance of life was a ceaseless endeavor To sweep off the waves as they swept over nme. “A 1 yield, I am helpless my fate to avert." he rolled down her sleeves, her apron she folded Then laid down and died dirt las, ‘twas no dream. Again I behold it; ¥ and was buried in - Brchange, A Wn - The May Queen, BY ISABEL SMITHSON, Such delighttul goings-on had never been thought of before in the little hamlet of Fairview. There was to be real ice-cream (made by the minister's wife), and cake and jelly and sand- wiches and lemonade, all in the cedar- grove. The boys had spent their spare time in putting up a May-pole,and mak- ing the most beautiful throne with soft cushions; they had fixed a canopy of ever-green boughs over an old gig, and decorated the whole with flags and rib- bons, and in this royal chariot the queen of May was to be drawn round by farmer Bronson's snow-white heifer. The school-children had been for weeks practising a May-chorus, and some of them were to ‘speak pieces’; then there were to be games of every kind, and a dance on the grass. The min- 1ster’s wife and Miss Payton, the school- teacher, had planned it all, but not even they knew who the queen would be. That was to be decided by the children’s votes on May-day before the games and feasting began. The grown- up people were invited to come and look on, but the only one who could vote was the school-teacher, and her vote was to count as three! “It will be the loveliest fun we have ever had,” said the children. Every one was to be at the grove at ten o'clock, #0 there was no school that day: the boys were busy brushing their clothes, and the girls erimping their hair and putting on clean dresses. Some of them even had new ones on purpose, prettily printed cambrics or light ginghams with ruffles and frills. Lulu Lane got up at dawn of day, | and looked out to see if the clouds that worried every one yesterday were really gore. A lovely clear sky smiled down at her, and she ran to ber mother in elight. “ft isn't going to rain at all” she cried, “‘it will be a beautiful day. Oh, | Mamma, —please give me my pink | dress, | want to get ready now,” and she began singing the first line of the May-chorus, “May-day, May-lay, brightly breaking!" “I am sorry dear, that your dress is so faded” said her mother regret- fully, ‘‘and there is a patch on each | elbow. I have made it look as neat as | I could, but" “Oh, never mind the patches,” said Lulu, “I don’t care about thems. What | does it matter, if the dress is neai and clean? That's what you always say, | Mamma. I'd rather wear my oldest | calico than miss the May-party. Mamie | Dale thinks she is sure to be the queen, | because she’s been at the head of the | class for a week, but Bob Fisher said | yesterday, ‘not one of the boys will | vote for a girl who always laughs when | a fellow gets ‘down foot,” and lots of | the girls are going to vote for me; they | told me so. Yon must be sure to be | down at the grove in time to see the crowning.” At half past eight Mrs, Lane said to Lulu, “I am going to the village now, and shall not come home until the party is over, so lock the door when you leave. You'll find me down in the grove.” “Very well Mamma,” said Lulu, a little later she smoothed her hair, put on her sun-bonnet, and after locking the house-door, turned her steps to- wards the cedar-grove, singing as she went, She bad only reached the first cross. roads, however, when a young man came rattling along in a gig, and stopped when he saw her to say: “Are you Widow Lane's little girl?” “Yes, sir.” “Then I am glad I met you. Here's a letter for old Mrs. Deane who lives some- where on the hill. It's from her grand- son Charley that she thought was lost at sea. I saw him in town yesterday and he’s coming vp here to-day. He gave me this note and begged me to send it by one of the neighbors to his grand- mother, for he is afraid that the news of his death will kill her, He said that perhaps Widow Lane's little girl would carry it, if I could bring it as far as here. Here's the letter, you will go at once ?" Puor Lula! She knew the way v well to Gaauny Detno's, it was a two hours’ It would be at two o'clock before she eonld get d 10 the grove, and by that time aud then she Anew hat there ay-party for ear. Up the road she x fast as she could 3; hot brushing her hair back from her fore- head, From where she sat she could see over the valley for males rround, could even make out the May-pole down by the cedar-grove, and see crowds and crowds of people going along the roads. «Jt must be after ten o'clock,” she thought to herself, ‘‘what will they say to my not being there? And oh, what arty would be over. Should she go? Was there no one else to carry the let- ter? No, indeed, not one, for grown up Jeonie were too busv, and not a child could be found on May-day to go such a distance. “Won't vou take it?" said the young man, for she had not answered his last question, but stood looking straight be- fore her, wishing her mother were there to tell her what to do. She re- membered how the poor old woman had fainted away when the bad news came, and how every one had said that ghe would not live very long, for Charley was the only relative she had on earth, “Think how glad old Mrs. Deane would be to hear that her grandson 1s not dead,” said the young man earn- estly, ‘‘There’s a good girl,” he added as Lulu took the letter and turned away quickly, “but you will take it at once —you promise?" “Yes, I promise,” said the little girl, will Miss Payton think, and Mamma! | It will be all right when I get back and | tell them, but then the games and dane- ing will be over, the queen crowned | and the ice-cream and everything eaten up.” Poor Lulu put her head down on the hard rock and cried as she had never cried before. In a few minutes, however, she was walking slowly to- wards Granny Deane's again, drying her eyes and trying vot to look back at the scarlet ribbons floating from the May-pole. There were no houses on the hill nothing but fields and woods, and Lulu did not meet a single person, except old farmer Black going to the village in his wagon. He pulled up in surprise, and when she tod him the news ex- claimed in a pleased tome, “Well, I never! So the young fellow isn't drowned at all--oh you can't trust those newspapers—if that don’t beat all Well, I'm right glad—poor old Granny! Get up, Tom" and he cracked his whip and went on. When Lulu reached the old woman's cottage, she was surprised to find the garden over-run with weeds, the gate wide open and everything in disorder. In the house it was just as bad; the | floor unswept, the fire out, the table | standing with Granny's untouched meal | upon it—the whole place plainly show- | ing that the old woman had forgotten | all else since she was told of her grand- | son's death. By the fire-place sat the | old Granny, bent nearly double in her | chair. She was rocking to and fro and making a low moaning sound, and | when Lulu patted her shoulder and | whispered that she had good news, | Granny only moaned the more and | kept repeating: “My boy is dead, he's dead. | He was all I had, and he is gone; my poor dear boy, my Charley, my darling!’ “But he isn't dead!” eried Lulu,” the ship isn't lost—look, here is a letter a window shutter that was keeping out | the May sunshine, the little girl open- ing the letter read it aloud. It was short, only saying that there had been come safe to port, and he would be with his dear old grandmother the next | day. | “Think of it, Granny—to-day, don’t She understood, but for a minute she was dumb with joy, then with a fervent “Heaven bless you, darling,” | she dropped her white head on the Lulu gently stroked the silvery hair and forgot all about the May-party. i “Aren't you ashamed?’ said Lala, +t me help you fix them?” In another minute the two were dusting, washing dishes, weeding the | flower beds, dressing up Granny | herself in a clean gown and apron, aod | when it was all done, Lula started for | home, leaving the old woman standing | at the gate with her wrinkled face | beaming with smiles, i Down the road skipped the little girl, stopping now and then to gather a flower, and only remembering her disappointment when she came in sight of the May-pole again, but this time in- stead of crying she began to sing, “May-day, May-day brightly breaking, Thro’ the mist of Aprilshowers,” which had just lighted on the, fence close by, and then, to her great sur- prise, she heard some voices singing the next lines of the May-chorus: “Let us from our siumbers waking, Welcome in your happy hours!” How delightful! Some of the child- ren were going home that way, she would run and meet them. The next minute she passed the turn of the road and saw a group of her play-mates be- fore her, and better still, there was the May-queen's oar with two boys leading the white heifer who was deck- ed out with wreaths of flowers. “The queen of May, is here today, And gives us all a holida 1 and one of them cried gaily, “You must not sing that verse, Lulu, you must just step into the car and sit with hands folded-—you're the Queen.” She the Queen, the Queen of May! as it only a dream or ‘really true and no make believe,” when they helped her into the seat of honor, then turned the oar around and set off for £ it i Hs 2 a poor old woman-—then they had got the car and heifer ready and come to the foot of the hill to meet the May-queen, The grove was crowded with mothers and fathers when the little procession came up, singing, and every one olap- »ed hands for the Queen— Widow Lane Pe — than the rest. Lulu was crown- ed with a wreath of May-flowers, and then the merry-makings began, and there never was seen in sll the world » happier May party than that one. Just as the golden sun was going down, a young man dashed by on horse back, waving his hat above his head and shouting: “Hurrah! Can't stop now children— three cheers for the May-queen, hip, hip, hurrah!" fi was Granny Dean's boy Charley. — American Agriculturiat, In The Sick Room. MEDICATING AND NURSING. Are by no means the same and stiould never be confounded with each other. Of course, a physician may also be a nurse, but it must be an extreme case that can induce the nurse to assume the responsibility of administering drugs unauthorized when a patient with a serions ailment is in her care. To be sure, there are certain aids to care applied by the nurse, but drugs are not among them, Parents may, if they have the courage to assume the respon- sibility, administer patent medicine to even held that no one, other than a regular physician, is morally or legally son's chances of life and death by ad- ministering poisons—and all drugs are poisons, in patients of the same age aud similar ments, and that a clever, cool-headed mother may thus be almost certain as to the result of administering such drugs; but conditions are sometimes so deceptive that a physician should be summoned when practicable, so that in case of subsequent disaster, the mother will not have cause to reproach herself for carelessness or neglect. the patient which call for amelioration that is entirely within the province of the nurse; and there are also certain symptoms or forerunners of illness that the mother or nurse should be able to recognize and prescribe for. The re- sponsibility of noting the approach of hand belongs to the nurse, and so does that of keeping serious conditions st bay until the doctor arrives. SYMPTOMS OF ILLNESS, There are many unmistakable sym. toms that should demand the mother's if she be not too much preoccupied with other matters near to her. Lack of appetite, mdiffer- ence to affairs that are commonly of in- exhibition of lsssitunde by a tempers ment that is natarally active and buoy- ant, paling or flushing of the face, aching of the limbs or back, shivering or nausea, a dry or slightly sore throat, a quick cough and sleeplessness, all these are indieations of distarbed health that in many cases, however, may be restored to its normal condition by the simplest precautions, if taken in time. The patient should at once be put to bed to rest and, if possible, to sleep. A sponge-bath of warm but not hot sleohol and water should follow this eat a slight, appetizing breakfast nourishing and easily digested food be- tore dressing, and should pass the day or excitement, the ter, while in summer the windows wiil ply covered, This day of repose af- ords nature an opportunity to do awork disturbance, which may be removable or avoidable in the future. ‘I'wo grains of quinine the above circumstances, while six grains will prove efficacious for an adult, 1f there is constipation, an enema of tepid Castile soap-suds will regulate the bowels, unless the case is serious. If improvement 1s not apparent in a day or two; if there is dizziness, chilli- ness, unquiet sleep or serious sleepi- ness; if the skin is hot and dry or cold and moist; or if the patient is thirsty and has a quick, thin pulse or loose dis- Shatges, send at once for a physician. In the meantime wrap the child ina sheet and place him in a tab full of water at a temperature of ninety-six to ninety-eight degrees, keeping 1t at that point by adding bot water from time to time. The patient should remain in the water not less than fifteen minutes; twenty minutes would be better. Three tablespoonfuls of household ammonia added to the water will render the bath more effective, and if ammonia is not at hand, two table-spoonfuls of baking-soda that has first been dissolved in hot water may be used instead. When the bath is ended have in readiness a warm, sheet to take the place of the one loft in the tub, and in cold weather fold a warm blanket at once over this sheet, utting the patient to bed immediately. eo child's may be rubbed gently with a warm, soft towel used r the blanket to prevent a chill, for even in » warmed room the dry air may cool an exposed wet surface by too rapid eva- poration. As the body is being Sous over from head to foot, the damp sheet should be drawn away, leaving the blanket next the skin. If the patient fools grow after this refreshing and ri f - : E § applied to the chest and to t*- back. Tt is a serious mistake to suppose that the back of the lungs requires no atténtion. Loss of appetite, a flushed face and a vain in tho ower part of the back, fol- Fed presently by shortness of breath and difficulty of speech, with quick, sharp pains in the mde mean either pneumonia, pleurisy or both. Of course, a physician is called immediate- ly, but the jacket of hot insted Poul. tice is what he would have ordered had he been present earlier, so an import. ant step in defence against the disease has been taken before his arrival, The patient who objects to food should be given strong beel-cssence, egg-nog, hot but not boiled milk with the white of an egg beaten into it,or a wine whey, administering the nourishment in small quantities but st very short in- tervals to maintain the sufferer’s strength, which ebbs with great rapid- ity as the disease progresses. Keep the temperature of the room not below seventy degrees both night and day, nor above that, if it is possible to regu- late it. Do not uncover the patient even for a moment, and protect his should- ers, which are lifted by pi'lows to aid his breathing, with extra wraps of warm texture and light weight. Keep the apartment well aired by means of a door leading into another room, in which the windows are lowered from the top; 1f possible, have an open fire | to aid the air current. lighted lamp may be placed in the fire- place to create a current through the chimney. See that the feet are warm; if they are not, place by them a bottle or rubber bag of bot water wrapped in | & towel, or a bag of heated salt or sand. | The medicines prescribed must be | administered with exactness and | promptitude, because in pneumonia | vigilance is often the only thing that | oan save the safterer's life, Save the | saliva, which should be dropped by the | patient into a small hand cuspador { rather than upon s cloth, for the doe- | tor’s inspection; and also be careful to save any other excretion that the medi- | cal man may ask to see. Maintain tho | sick person in perfect tranquility, pre- | paring as much of the medicines, ete. | as possible outside the sick chamber. | Preserve a cheerful countenance snd an | even voice, and do not talk of symptoms | or of medicines in the patient's pres- ence. Keep but one gas-jet burning {in the room, because the flame con- | sumes the vitality of the air; and shade the light from the eyes of the sufferer. { If a lamp 18 used, be sure there is not | the slightest odor of oil, nor the faint. est smoke to enter the already overbur- dened lungs. Wear a noiseless, wash- able dress and cloth shoes, and see that the hinges of the door are oiled to prevent creaking; one movement of a | noisy door may break a slumber | during which life was to have re- turned, and the interruption of re- pose may turn the scale beyond recov- ery. Should the patient remain asleep for any considerable sorutinize his face if the room is not light enough for the purpose, a candle shaded by the hand will serve to dis- | play the countenance. In case the fes- | tures seem drawn or the face is paler than usual, it may be taken as an indi- eation of waning vitality, which must be immedistely restored by means of the food or stimulants ordered by the physician to be ke Bt in readiness for such emergencies. Both should always be within easy reach, but should not be heated in the patient's presence, if avoidable; a spirit lamp or as gas sup- outside the door will answer admirably. These particular directions regarding | food are applicable to all cases of ser- | ious illness. — The Delincator. IOS SL Travelling Children. {| There is much written nowadays con- | cerning the home amusement of child. lren. Would it not be well if sugges. tions were offered for the entertain. ment of the little people while travel. ling? Any one who has made a long | ratlway journey must have bad her | sympathies aroused for the tired little | mortals for whom no provision had | been made for varying the monotony | of the trip, says the Housekeeper. The | mothers or aunts sccompanying them | were provided with books or kmitting | work, but the poor children had not | even strings to play cat's eradle. {| No wonder that under these cironm- ! stances they fidgeted and wearied their | companions, until traveling with chil | dren was voted a bore. If a new piot- | ure book, a pencil and paper, a game or a small doll had been provided, to be brought out at the first appearance of restlessness, the vote might have been different, A lady starting on a journey with two | children pl in her satchel some | pieces of cardboard, scissors and lead pencils, After the novelty of car-rid- ing had worn off this wise woman pro- duced ber treasures. One child cut the cardboard into pieces three-quarters of an inch square, the other printed on each square a letter. The alphabet was repeatod many times. Then each form- words from the letters and gave to the other to make out. In this way the amused themselves for hours. e mother might have taken the o from home with less trouble to raelf, but well she knew there would be more satisfaction in making it for themselves. Paper dolls were out and extensive wardrobes fashioned from bright-colored Paput that bad been thoughtfully provided. At the end of the journey the passengers declared the Our Fashion Letter. When we see the discomfort that it causes many persons to wear mourning garments when death invades their households, the absolute despair almost into which it plunges them, we could heartily wish in this depariment, as well ae in others, ‘Fashion would modify her mandates, We will not repeat what all the world knows: that mourning for a husband is worn for two years, for a parent eighten months or a year, ote.” We purpose to give only a few special instructions concerning the details of toilette, The Victoria band, in white crepe, which has been worn only by iy oe is now admissable for all deep mourning. Some coquettish persons having found that the h.t of black crepe is very trying even to the finest complexion, have adopted this band of white erepe which softens the plainest face and improves the harshest com- plexion. It is indeed a fancy which has caused this white crepe to be made a veritable garniture, prolonged into strings knotted under the chin. This style, however, we seriously advise our read- ers not to adopt. The long, that some widows wear covering | face, is now almost universally { doned. It is worn at the | vice and during the first weeks tulle edged with crepe, the large veil being draped on the back of the hat. The shawl also, at the end of three or six weeks is replaced byalong garment, cape or redingote, in black wool trim- med with erepe. And the diamonds! There was a time when they remained resting im their luxurious, velvet lined cases for eighteen months or two years, the full period of deep mourning, To- ea:-rings st the close of the first year of mourning. each one to follow his own inclinations, and if deep mourning is desired not to do. If, on the contrary mourning is others, without any deep feelin grief, it will be well to observe others and to adopt the styles which present usage permits. We nothing new to say about deep mourning, as on this subject the houses dealing specially 1n mourning garments always give full instructions; therefore it seems more profitable to our readers to give some types of half mourning toilettes which may be used for colors as well as for black. One of these beautiful toilettes is | made of faille veloutine, very long, {trimmed on the bottom of the skirt | with a deep band of black velvet stud- ded with steel. The corsage of the | same faille is trimmed with a bolero | front in black passementerie. A girdle | bolero and is fastened with a milver | buckle. The plastron of velvet isstod- | ded with steel and draped with Ophelie | China crepe. | the puffed sleeves, tulle and trimmed with white narcissus and velvet pansies. the hata, or almost all, are transparent, | in mohair, with bands of lace work or else of lace like rice straw. but plain or dotted talle which does not deprive the hat of its brightness or transparency. Many capotes without crowns are pr- namented in the back with a TheodDra concealed comb. | violets, forget-me-nots or primroses; | sometimes it is of cut jet or an embroid- ery of steel or gold. el is of polished uncut jet with sprays mourning toilette, The prettiest eapote for half-mourn- ing that we have seen jis in black tulle without any other garniture than a head, with a pointed sting and two bril- liant eyes, is raised menancingly in front. We will finish by describing two typical novelties; one a jacket whose originality is not concealed in its form. It is made of French blue-cloth, double partake of the style—masouline. There is nothing prettier than this jacket fora traveling garment or a morning Wrap. The other novelty consists of a large hat sapphire velvet, mignonette and violets. The large Bebe veil which is worn with this hat, is of tulle point d'ecsprit and covers the edge of the hat, falling in front below the shoulders and having the ends knotted at the back of the hat. After the materials for hall-mourn- ing, that is to say the lustreless and plain wools, comes the choice between a number of novelties, sach prettier than the other. The transparent veil ings, sometimes plain, sometimes em- broidered, with large lozenges are striped in a hundred styles. This veil- ing is lighter than grenadine and has that charm of elegance which causes it to be adopted by women of taste. It is de rigeur, correct, with a slight mark of distinction which satisfies the most austere, and charms the most uet- tish. The large squares so much in favor display their silky rays upon these new Out Bate oath erepon veiling qu n, elegance. soft, and of rare Fruior Lzstin, «Bergan has given the Dwyer Broa. second call on SEED The TATShe ox son. Pelmont’s Prince Roya lame at Sheepshead Day re- po up cently, : «Ontario, the great horse, will be given She_gaast jutnpiug bottes «Loretta F, has sired by W, H. amid, he ye Wilkes. James Goodies, of Linwood, re oe Maud O'Neil 7 hint is HORSE NOTES, Riding is becoming the fad at New York city, where about sixty riding clubs have been formed, ~-Budd Dobie has purchased the b, m. Lady Bullion, record, 2.284, for £15,000 from R, Kilogman, Frank Bower's mare Maggie B, won a very creditable race at Belmont Course. Her mark is now 2.20. ~Come-to- Taw 1s not fulfilling ex- pectations. He trains well, but does’ not run as be should in his races, — Hamilton may ride Tenny In the Toboggan slide handicap to-morrow if McLaughlin cannot get weight, —Wilton Greenway has sold his brown mare Maud, 2.274, by Othello to the Hubinger Bros., of New Haven, Coun., for $2800, ~The Covington pool-rooms were closed by municipal ordinance a few days ago, and it js sald, they will not reopen in future, ~—H, H, Owsley, Midway, Ky.. has 80 d for $5000 to O, O. West, Jr., Lou- isville, the bay filly Kate Malone, 4, by importéd Glengarry. ~Jeane Fleaming is said to have {driven Aubine and Lady Wellington a mile in 2.18% at Dundee Park, Pater- son, N, J., recently. | —Elite, the eleventh foal of Green | Mountain Maia, owned at Woodburn, | will be traioed this season, as she | proved barren in the spring. —T. C. Anglin bas bought of W. fl. Force, Jr., of Flemington, N. J., the b. 1., Stella ¥, 2 by Wilkes Boy, dam | Mary Force by Happy Medium, ~ Bill Letcher, the Latons Derby | winner, is a medium-sized colt, by Longfellow, dam Ida Lewis, and is | owned by W. R. Letcher, of Richmond, Ky. ~The Association of Western Book- makers has secured the betting privil- | eges at Louisville for the fall meeting. | The sum pald for the spring and fall | privileges ‘was $30,000, — Mary Lynn, by Messenger Chief, { out of the dam of Prince Wilkes, has foaled a handsome filly colt by Red Wilkes. The mare and filly are the property of Mock Brothers, of Ken- tucky. — At the last meeting of the Ameri- can Trotting Association the record of the chestnut mare Laurabel was changed from 2.27 to 2.274, and that of the chestnut gelding Baldwin from 2.34 to 2.344. James Pettet recently shipped the pacer Jewett, record, 2.14, and the b, g. Honest George, record 2.274, by Al- bert to Derby, Conn., wheres they are entered. Petlet says that Jewell is in first-class simpe. ~—R. Liddie has sold, through Captain {James M. Nelson to Augustine T. | Smythe, of Charleston, S, C,, for saddle | purposes, the dark chestnut gelding Clatter, foaled 1882, by lisbon, dam Clarina, by Australian, —1t is said that a new fea'ure will be added to the appointments at Morris Park in the shape of a bulletin board giving the stock quotations, results of | baseball matches and racing at differ. | ent points, for the benefit of people at- | tending the races. | —A motion to have dissolved the in- | junction restraining the Board of Re- | view for investigating the Alcryon- | Nelson race, will be argued at Buffalo | in June by Mr. IToyt. the leading coun- | sel of the National Trotting Associa- | tion, ~The great spring meeting of the New York Jockey Club wili begin May | 30. at its magnificent race-course, Mor- ris Park, located among the pictures que hills of Westchester, less than a mile beyond the corporate lumits of New York city. —Dollikins, in the Scoggan string, does not fulfill the promise of her two- | year old form. She started four times | this season and was beaten every time, | Lady Washington has already won four stakes, She is by Miser, and so is Euglish Lady. —Speaking of the statement that { Emperor of Norfolk was to be brought here later in the season, Bob Thomas, { his former trainer, said: “I will bet | $4000 to $250 that Emperor of Norfolk { will never win another public race, and | another hundred that he 18 never shipped out of California to run in ne. i — Longshore, the 2-year-old colt, by | Longfellow, dam Seashell, brokea blood | vessel recently. Longshore was one of the most promising of the Dwyer Brothers’ young horses, They thought | so highly of the colt that they gave about the highest price they have paid this season for &is yearling brother at the recent Kentucky sales. ~The much talked-about racing nov- elty, the Jack Pot stakes, has proved a flat failure, In the Lexington event
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