AMONG THE DAISIES. A Tramr's SOLILOQUY. When the buttrcups come in the medder an’ make it all yeller like gold, @n’ the daisies out'n the paster grow white as they slowly unfold, ; An’ the robin says it is mornin’, an’ the yeller bird gladdens the sight, Or the sun overhead says noonday, or the whip- poorwill says it is night, When the breezes softly meander out over the medders which give . Back the perfume of Spring joinin’ Summer, oh then it's & blessin' ter live An’ dream as the hours slip by, An’ deep in the clovers lie To walt for the dreary rustle o' the brown leaves by-an'-by. Oh folks may call me lazy, an' good for just nothin’ at all But ter lie out in the mowin'-lot where the daisies rise and fall An'nod an’ blush a-murmurin’, “Good for noth- in'"1-but io Loafin’, takin’ life easy while others gather the dust; But when roses borrow a fragrance from the alr, distil it an’ give it back with a double sweetness, oh then "tis a blessin' ter live Down midst the flowers so dear, Inthe summer tine o' the year, Yor while others are plowin' me under, I'm lovin’ the daisies here, Yes, I'm penniless may be, an’ holes may laugh in my coats, But if "ve had little for breakfast I'm full of the magical notes O' the bob-o-link an’ the sparrow, an’ 1've drank o' the mystical sweet O' the Summer air grown drowsy, out o' the heat Iu the shake o' the beeches an’ maples, Elves do the bldin’ o' men, Closin’ my eyes an’ whisperin'; thnk wat they will, an’ then Let them wander out over the lea, With you an’ the birds an’ see 1f ever again they'll wonder how a lazy tramp can be.” an’ hid me when “Let then - (Food Housekeeping. THE LINK THAT SEVERS. No one disputed the fact that Cosmo Loring was a rising painter of great promise. He had already given irre- futable evidence of his real talent by producing several small pictures whic had sold remarkably well, taking into consideration that he was yet unknown, and even some of the exclusive picture- dealers of Bond Street had notified their intention of giving him orders. But Loring, with a highly strung artis- tic temperament, was possessed of an equally potent ambition, and would not consent to imperil the futureand dwarf his brush to the production of mere ot-boilers. He fully intended to make is mark in the higher spheres of his art, to become famous, to write the mage letters KR. A. after his name, and to achieve success not by patronege, but hus own merit. He was certain that he had in him the making of a great artist, and was equal- ly conscious—a much rarer knowledge —that he bad as yet a great deal to learn before he could scale the altitudes that were his goal. At thirty, witha fairly good socal position, a goodly number of friends, many would-be patrons among the fair sex—for he was clever and handsome—he renounced the seductive attractions offered by London drawing-rooms and the easier acquisition of wealth through the dis posal of inferior pictures, and determ- ined to spend three years in Italy in hard study and conscientious ground- work. He went to Rome, where he took rooms on the fifth floor of a house in the Via Babuino, visited all the sta- dios, frequented the galleries, and spent the rest of his time before his easel at home in incessant toil. passed he felt the development ot bis patural gifts, and realized that he had neither misjudged his power nor in- dulged in i hopes for the fu- tare. Among the numerous art students of ail ages and both sexes haunting the public and private galleries of Home, and copying the best pictures, was a dark-haired, pretty young girl, whom chance had frequently made his neigh- bor, and who sttracted his attention not so much by her personal charms as by her absorption in her work. The accidents of propinquity had resulted, first, in a slight bow of recognition as they arrived in the morning, then in a quick pleased look and smile when they met again after a few weeks’ interrup- tion, followed almost ipsensibly by an exchange of small courtesles—the ad- justing of an easel, the lending of chalks or tubes; and the acquaintance- :ship then began drifting, as it could not help doing, into a quiet, easy good- Be lenip, Fr learned that Eileen Donovan was an Irish girl living in Rome with her aunt, the widow of an Italian sculptor, who had elected to re- main in her adopted country and bad sent for one of her impecunious broth- er’s numerous children to live with her, Eileen was as simple, merry, and un- affected as she was pretty and fond of painting; the long hours of assiduous application never scemed to bring weariness to her limbs or to dim the sparkle of her eyes and the brightness of her smile. She was frankly confi- «dential with Loring. “] mean to make myself quite inde- pendent,” she said to him with naive faith, ‘and to earn my own livelihood. 1 shall sell my best copies to wealthy tourists, and when 1 am rich, gquife rich, 1 shall persuade Aunt Lorenzo to go back with me to England, and there paint original pictures for my own pleasure.’ “And glory,” added Loring, with a stile, The words gave a thrill of pleasure to the girl. “So you think I have talent?” she said eagerly, with an upturn of her soft eyes, “f am sure of it,” answered Cosmo «decisively. And it was no flattery. Heo recognized in the young student more than ordinary eapabilities; she had a correct eve, n delicate touch, a remark- able gift of coloring, asd a bold, cor- rect execution. In course of time he wis presented to Bignora Lorenzo, and made welcome by her. In their simp e surroundings the sunt and niece were unmistakably Indies, and Loring found » grateful re- lief to hus solit ry Inbors in the enjoy- ment of their quiet sympathetio society. Was it the subtle charm emanating frem the ‘nish girl, or dhe delight of finding a mind absolutely responsive to ‘his—haviog the same enthusiasm, the same asp rations and ambitions, an «equal love of the same art, aud the same complete surrender to it-—or was it the unconscious gratification of re- «ceiving the constant flattery of undi- vided admiration, that made Loring fall in love with Eileea? Perhaps conspived to make ber lovely in his oyes, and almost as oon us the girl had become aware that he was all in all to her he asked her to be his wife, His stay in Italy had como to a close, and together they started for England, enjoying, howeyer, a lingering honey- moon among the Italian lakes on their way home. Mr, and Mrs. Loring were not long in finding a small house with a large studio in the northern suburbs of Lon- don, and not much longer in making it the pleasent rendezvous of brother ar- tists and intelligent patrons of art. The canvases Loring had brought with him from Italy elicited much genuine praise, and when his little wife timidly pro- duced her own attempts they were un- animously pronounced excellent, “Do you know what your friend the Royal Academician said to me only the other day?" she asked exultingly of her husband. ‘He declares that we might together emulate some of the Old Mas- ters.” “Come, come,” said Cosmo, smiling, ‘this is drawing the long bow.” “No, no," she protested, ‘let me fin- ish; emulate them, because I conld paint replicas of all your pictures, and the publie would never know the daf- ference. Is not that glorious, dear? I am so proud!” Not very long after this, however, Loring, who was still attentions to his wife. suddenly discov- ered that she was pale and not looking well; he attributed it to overwork, and strongly advised her to leave off paint- ing for awhile. She laughingly protest ed that she had never felt botter in her life; but he insisted on her giving up her paints and Lrushes with such im- perative pertinacity that she yielded at last, finding some compensation for the sacrifice in the thought of her husband's exaggerated love and oare for ber. Meanwhile he was preparing to win his spurs and in the second year of his happy marriage began a large picture celebrity in the future. The subject had been long and earnestly discussed. Eileen had thrown herself into Loring's views with passionate eagerness, and when her suggestions were disregarded she espoused all his ideas as warmly as if they had originated with her. was finally decided that the great pie- legions leaving their homes to join tha army of Napleon I. The sketch masterly, the numerous figures admira- bly grouped, and the strong simple the crude chalk outlines. ius; Eileen hung over him entranced as he worked, without a regret or even a thought now for her deserted palette, living entirely in his exclusive artist's life. It was then early in November. On a particularly damp cheerless after noon, when it grew too dark to work, Cosmo, flushed and heated by long labor, left his studio to breathe the air, He met a triend who stopped him in the fog, caught a chill, and returned home feeling giddy and ill. The next morning his head sched and his eyes were inflamed; disregarding these sym- ptoms, he usual, and when his wife, alarmed at the appearance of the eyelids, sent for refused to follow his preseription of resting till the ophthalmic affection had subsided. days he closer and closer over the canvas, mix- seemingly unconscious of several blund- ers he committed. He bitterly resent ed an observation she hazarded one day when he nearly rubbed out a head he ad laboriously finished a weak before; and Eileen, soeing how all opposition annoyed him, sat silently at his side, watching with dumb despair how the once promising picture became blotch- ed and blurred, discordant and con- fused, a mass of meaningless color, under which the fair original outlines aud intention were still here and there Cosmo, shading his eyes with his hand, would rise and, calling to his wife, say, pointing with his mahistick to some vague group: “See, Eileen, is this not grand? Watch the forward impetus of the men, the clinging sorrow of the women, the martial atmosphere. I have never done better.” She did not contradict him, but she suffered acutely. One day the brush dropped from his hand; with a half-stifled exclamation of | “¥inished at last!” he sank back in his | chair, and fainted. i They earried him to his bed; from unconsciousness he fell into a sort of lethargy, which lasted many weeks. When he recovered the full use of his limbs and renses he was completely blind. Eileen's devotion was put to a severe test. Far more trying to her than his illueas were now the constant directions he gave her respecting his picture, mingled with thanksgivings that his vision bad been spared long enough to gomplats this masterpiece. In glowing words he expatiated on its merits, and probably in his mind's eye saw it as it might have been—in a sort of halo, idealized and glorified. Eileen listened and was silent, save for a fow words of assent. Once he said to her: “You are very cold and unsympathe- tie. One might almost think you were Jealous of my coming srivmpl ” She caressed him gently, but uttered no disclaimer. He set aside all her timid objections when the time drew near for sending in “The Departure of the Legions” gave his own directions for the frame, snd listened with a glowing face to the departing footsteps of the men who bore it away. Not only was the picture accepted, but it was hung on the line in the 0 room, The public focked to see f, the art critics were unanimous in prais- ing it, an American millionaire pur. chased 1t. Loring bad all the pa that spoke of the Academy sent to oy and made his wife read over every par- sgraph concerning his work, interrupt ing her to say: *Yes-—ves. You see, with my fail- ing eyes 1 have lelt them all behind, Kileen, you are not so good a judge of paluting us I once tho yOu-—-none of the blemishes you affected to oriti- come, little woman, you are not cise are apparent to others. yot Ee Since his blindness Loring had a morbid repugnanoce to leaving his house and never wont anywhere. He used to send his wife every other day to the Academy, so that she could report to him the opinions of the picture which she overheard in the crowd, snd which she gave with a hesitation and retic- ence that exasperated him. One day he abruptly determined to go himself. A sudden suspicion had crossed his mind that he was deceived, and that the encomiums on his work had been purposely magnified to pacify and console him. His sightless eyes hidden by dark spectacles which very effectually disguised his identity, his figure bowed by his long illness, he en- tered the gallery one afternoon at the busiest hour, leaning on his wife's arm, and was led by her before the picture, There wes no mistaking the eager rush of the crowd, the siuecere exclamations of delight, the enthusiastic praise, He cvuld no longer doubt, ‘“Lhe Depart- ure of the Legions” was the master- piece of the Academy. He stood more erect, his step was firmer, as he turned to go, and Eileen felt the nervous, triumphant pressure of his hand on her | arm, as he through the portals that bad opened | wido to receive his work: He could | deeper emotion many, and place himself in the hands of the best oculist in the world, The treatment to which he was submitted was a long one, but at the end of a twelve-month the cure was complete, and he was told that shortly he would be able to handle once more the brush that had made him famous. “Not before 1 have seen again the picture to which I indirectly owe my recovery,” he said to Eileen. said hurriedly. “What of that? Let us go to New | York." “So long a journey?” she pleaded. “It will do me good—nothing like soa air.” He would not be gainsaid, and they | sailed for Ameriea. The news of their arrival had preceded them, aud Loring | received one of those transatlantic re- { ished on distiuguished Europeans, | es and interviews, and lost no time in his treasure. With consummate tact, gallory, the New York banker, point ling to a large frame in the place of honor, said smilingly to the { and wife: “I will not intrude on this happy meoting—you will find me in the hib- rary when you have done.” He withdrew, and, to Loring's in- tense relief, left them alone. A few quick strides brought him be- fore the picture; a latent dimnoss of vision, | for a moment to prevent a clear and before him s superb work of art. Two or three times he passed his fingers lover his eyes, then his expression { changed from intense oxultation toa hr od surprise. “What is this?" he said. “Your picture, of course; don’t you recognize it, darling?” said kileen, | drawing close up to him. “My picture! no; I remember it too well, 1 have seen it in every detail in the night of | my blindness, I could paint it over sgain, line by line, touch by touch. This one has been tampered with by a stranger.” **No, no you mistake, Cosmo. What { matter? Besides, have you forgotten? | Was the picture not called the best of ithe year, and you the greatest living | painter?” faltered Eileen imploringly. { He turned to her, | face, trying to read the faithful eves { lous and broken: | “Eileen, if you have ever loved me, { I command you to tell me who touched | that picture, who took advantage of | my blindness to change, alter, and add | to it, who has by so doing made me a {| God knows what I had done was worth | that!” he said, relinquishing he hands | and gazing at the picture, conscious, { however, that there was no falling off | in the real painting compared with the | one of which his imagination had kept | 80 vivid in imprint. Eileen crept lovingly into his arms, and, with her head on his breast, said f “Can't you guess, darling? Let me explain. When your dear eyes were so bad, when you would work in spite of all, your hand could not obey your will; the colors got mixed, the outlines were lost; the idea—the grand idea was there, but the execution failed. Well, whe it would have driven you mad to know that the picture could not be sent as it was to the Academy, 1, your pupil, your wife, repainted it in secret.” He started. ‘'Yes,” she con. tinued still more caressingly. *1 fol- lowed all your intentions, worked as you taught me to work by your exam- le, and,” she added, with a happy augh, ifting her face to the level of his—**and your friend was right—the public did not know my painting from yours! Kiss me, love.’ He kissed her ns she desired, but without another look at the picture he lott the gullary ani the house, Bated rom that Josmo ring his it den Foe World, Single Blessodness. if I had to decide for my daughter whethdr, in view of her greater happi- ness, she would marry or remain sing I would find the task difficult, says Oliye Thorns yp { her lif nm ordering of her life is taken in great measure out of her own hands; she must bend to circum- stances; she is modified by the influ. ences which have surrounded her hus- band all his life; she takes to herself in a eis Lo OF AY © . The life is much loss com Curious Collections. At Warsonstein, in Germany, there is perhaps one of the most curiously original collections of books extant: says a writer in Chambers Journal, This consists of a botanical collection. Outwardly the volumes present the common appearance of a block ef wood and that is the first impression; but a minute examination reveals the fact that each is a complete history of the particular tree which it represents. At the back of the book the bark has been removed from a space which allows the scientific and the common name of the tree to be placed as a title for the book, One side is formed from the split wood of the tree, showing its grain and natural fracture; the other shows the wood when worked smooth and varnished. One end shows the grain as left by the saw, and the other the finely polished wood. On opening the book, it is found to contain the fruit, seeds, leaves and other products i of the tree; the moss which usually grows upon its trunk and the insects { the treo. These are supplemented by a well-printed description of the habits | usual location and manner of growth i of the tree. | secures a place in this wonderful, use- ful and valuable eollection. i able curiosities in the shape of cherry | stones, and were they collected in one | loeality it would doubtless enchance their value, In the Salem Museum ro- { poses oue which contains one dozen | silver spoons. ‘Lhe stone is ot the or- | dinary size; butthe spoons are so small | that their shape and finish can only | be discerned satisfactorily by means of | the microscope, But a more curious cherry-stone 1s that upoa which are in- scribed one hundred and twenty-four i heads. This no doubt forms the most | curious collection yet known, and the naked eye can easily distinguish those belonging to popes and kings by | their mitres and crowns. It was bonght | in Prussia for fifteen thousand dollars, { and thence conveyed to that home of | curiosities, England, where it is con sidered an object of so much value that | its possesion was disputed, and it be- came the subject of & suit in chancery. | However a toymaker of Nuremberg endeavored to eclipse this specimen by | enclosing in a cherry-stone, which was exhibited at the French Crystal Palace, | & plan of Sebastopol, a railway station, { and the Messiah of Klopstock. How | far he succeeded we leave our readers to determine. The most curious collectionshowever { are to be found of coins, and we have scen many of this kind; but g MAW made $ at Nottingh It consists of a huge pile of periectly | now jubilee half-crowns made up ss a { light-house shaped pyramid. The {| whole is comprised under s glass case, and measures in height six feet; whil | he base is five foot eight inches roand and the number of coins is one dred thousand eight | ed and | The weight is one ton eight hundred. | weight fourteen pounds three ounces, | and the walue | bundred pounds fifteen sillings ian i xix money lies near the case, being con | elusive proof of the authenticity suc genuinences of the collection. But the foregoing illustrations are | nothing when compared with the mis i re Charles Peace are to be seen. Only a i | ition. when they have obtained them, they ing purposes. We can only recommend | them to what an extent these curious i collections exist. i specting the Star Sirius. By means of the spectroscope a vury wonderful discovery has been made respecting Sirius. Astronomers had noticed that this star was in rapid mo- tion through space, as it was found that year by year it was changing its position in the heavens, traversing in about 1,600 years a spate equal to the apparent diameter of the moon, at a velocity of not less than twenty miles per second, Of course, by actual ob- servation, the only motion capable of being detected would be that which was square to the line of sight, so that although Sirius appears to us to move across the heavens, he may really be travelling in » slanting direction, either toward or from us. No one would ever have expected to be able to tell whether a star was approaching to or receding from us, yet even this scom- ingly insolvable problem has of late years been accomplished by the speo- troscope. Dr. Huggins, our greatest authority on this subject, having identi- fied certain lines in the spectrum of Sirius as those of hydrogen, found on comparison that these were displaced in such a manner as to indicate that Sweuty miles per second, gives as the act movement of Sirius in space a speed of about thirty-three miles per second. These, then, constitute some of the chief items of information about Sirius at present within our knowledge. There seems to be no reason to doubt that, in common with other suns, he life, similar to that which now prevails on our planet, would be in existence. What a world such a one would be, in size, perhaps, not inferior to that of our sun, himself a million times larger than our earth; and it may be that as this Sirian world is so vastly superior to ours in size its inhabitants would be on a scale in proportion to its dimen- sions, a race of beings of such intellect and civilization compared with whom Wo ate but savages, — Chambers’ Jour- nat, rr ——————————— Current Fashions. To the thoughtful, economical woman, the depth of whose purse 18 not limit- lens, yet who has all the desire and in- born taste to dress as well as her more favored sisters, without feeling that her purse is left empty for the many neces. sary demands which are sure to be made on it, perhaps a few points for True we are just in the height of this summer's season, but manufactarers and designers have already made their preparations for the summer of 1501, ean one purchase goods which have not yet been designed and ing summer, many of which are to be secu on the counters of our stores this season, but which next summer will ap- pear under new names, As it is rather iste for the sale of these goods, they are being offered now at less thau first prices; hence those who are thoughtful enough to invest in them will find an- for one or more costumes, as the case may be, at about one half the current To make these selections requires great care, taste, and the ““foresecing of pos- sibilities,” but what woman who 18 in- tent on both economy and good taste, Fabrice with flower designs in jacquard (bordered) styles should be carefully avoided, as they are already fast losing favor, All fine, soft goods in one color, and also one color, striped vigoyne goods. Shaded stripes will strive for supren acy and will rank high, and styles, in sll varieties on India Cashe- Cheviot will be found. siripes in all simple and combined, straight crosswise, and in zigzag style will pre- vail foresecs great favor, but it half-silk goods, well on wool wired of snocoess. shaded dots fine stripes; with designs hai for them silk or ¥ d y not roeprod 104 styles are ass atest samples show ! bomb desigus between shaded stripes alternate or, and shaded pea Fine strires, or into a large striper which is in stripes lines, M mine Large plaids will not be used exten- sively next summer hand, small angles, which are cut by lines forming arge squares will find deserved favor. Cheap beiges with shaded stripes, knotted or oval designs, will be Black India Cashmeres are seen with small, embroidered flowers, with gold- leaf and weed embroidered designs, also light tissues showing large squares fabrics and shaded styles will meet with grest favor, seems assured. These are many of the silks, muslins, and erepons now worn which will be, if not in he height of fashion next season, at least not out of it. Among these are These milks make most charming summer dresses, but in selecting for future use small designs and delicate colors should be chosen. This is also just the time to purchase other useful goods at a nominal price, for merchants are now offering ribbons, ruches, and handkerchiefs at extremely low prices, Those who have taken advantage of the pended on a book, a picture, or some | other long desired pleasure, MOURNING GOODS, So t a change has been made in all fabrics and designs now used for mourning, that the objections formerly urged against them have now bat little weight. The style of making these dresses does not differ, in essential points, from that of others Fronts and sleeves of mourning dres- ses are ornamented with beautiful ap- pliques of crepe on canvas, which are made up over canvas grenadines or soft silk. The silk foundations are made with little fulness except in the back, and a thick ruche of silk is placed around the bottom edge. Crepe de Chine, plain or embroidered, Japanese crepe, Chiffon, sarah and twilled silks are all admissi- ble for extra oocoasions. Delicate fabrics in black and white, and their combination, gray and helio- trope are used for half or light mourn- mg. A very modest dress is one made of black wool dotted with small grey- silk designs, such as cubes, squares, cto. For svauing wear, a white silk under black figured Ince with slecves entirely of the lace is very pretty, or the white silk may have esigun in black and be covered with Russian fiet, Pale gre or lavender silk with black figures, an trimmings of jet and lace are much favored. For morning wear are found the HORSE NOTES. SA - Eighteen of the Dwyer Bros,’ hor- ses are at Saratoga, ” ~ Proctor Knott is sald to have com- pletely broken down, ~The profits of the recent Point Breeze meeting were about $3000, -The Baratoga races were postponed on account of rain, ~—Hanover is indulged with a salt water bath every day at Coney Island, ~Bunol's half mile in 1.02} at De- {roit shows that Maud 85.’s record of 2.08% is in danger. ~—Dr, Corrigan has purchased Vaga- bond, the sire of Judge Morrow, and will give him a chance at the stud, ~The California horses won a full share of the races during the Washing- ton Park meeting in Chicago. heads the list of winning | jockeys with 126 mounts to his credit. | Hamilton second, with 70, | ~=It being impossible to bring the | lame Britanuic to a race, he has been | returned to Mr. Walden’s farm in | Maryland. —Seth Griffin bas just completed a | mile track at Peru, Ind., which should | — Bergen | be one of the fastest in the country. —FEd. Corrigan, proprietor of the West Side Park, Chicago, is endeavor- ing to close the city pool-rooms in that city. —At Detroit in the 2.30 classes the bay mare Pixley by Jay Gould, dam of General Washington, obtained a rec- ord of 2.19%. —John Condon drove his pacer Sur- pass a mile recently over Delmont Course in 2.20 —New York Dictator, of the Elkton Stock Farm, trotted a mile recently in 2.20%. — Patsey Duffy, the once famous and | successful jockey, has completely gone | to the bad, —J. H. Goldsmith and E. Odell have purchased the pacer Elva Medium, | 2.174, for $3000, ~—T. Wood Martin will start the | horses at Buffalo, Poughkeepsie and | Hartford, —Windsor, Ont,, which Is opposite | Detroit, 18 to have a mile track for trotters, —Sunol and Delle Hamlin will both be sent for a fast record at Buffalo on { August 7. ~The conspirator who forged the telegram which causad Fides to be star- ted in the race in which she broke down has not yet been discovered. — Racing will commence at Mer chautville, and there are five races on | the programine, —~—Margaret 8S. captured the stake at Detroit by distancing b competitors, whole er four -— Jockeys Britton and Williams each | bad eighteen winning mounts at the Chicago meeting. -— Pretty belie and the brown mare Pennlyn are being driven to the pole by George A. Singerly. -Banquet’s mile and a quarter in : 2.03% at Monmouth Fark will be accep- | ted as a record. | —=Melton, who was sold to the Ital | fan Government, is to stand at Fer- | rara, where they have a stud farm, and | his fee is to be $50, | —Ed Geers has Brown Hal, 2.13}; | Hal Pointer, 2.13, McEwen, 2.18}: Frank Dorteh, 2.254; Bob Taylor, trial | 2.19, and Dr. Almont, 2.213. { ~The question “Which is the best | 2.year-old runner in the East?” has not {yet been answered, ‘Lhe youngsters | take turns in defeating each other. | —=Millard Sanders tried to beat 2.24 | with Captain and Ernest Maltravers on | a wager of $25 recently, but failed to | equal that time by a quarter of a sec- | ond, | Owing to the death of the imp. | stallion M. Pickwick, Charles Reed & | Bon, of Fair View Stud, Gallatm, | Teun., have purchased French Park | and Exile for $25,000, ~The Balch Cree-for-all stallion race | for $10,000 will be trotted at Mystic | Park, Boston, on September 17. On the same day there will be a $5000 purse for stallions of the 2.19 class, —MecFerran & Clancy, of Louisville, had dropped on July 4 a bay colt, by | Bell Boy, 2194, dam Prefix by Pan- | const, 2.213. On July 8, Typhoon, by | Lord Russell, brother of Maud 8, | 2.08%, foaled a vay filly by Bell Boy, | which has bsen christened Bell Russell, —Din Honig, St. Louis, Mo,, has purchased from Mason & Co. the brown gelding Rbody Pringle, foaled 1880, by Helmbold, dam Imp, Casta- way, by Zetland, and the chestnut horse Dousman, foaled 1883, Ly Chari. ton, dam Carrie Watson, by Planta ganet, ~Out of the 134 races run at Wash ington Park, Chicago, during. the last meeting, 57 favorites won. The total amount of money run for in stakes, purses and entrance money was §173,« 040, divided among 107 owners. The Chicago stable headed the list of win. pers with §16,000,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers