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,