* FOOD FOX fHOUGHT, Even a lathe will turn when trod up- en. An industrious man isseldom a bad man, Not one man in ten can tell when he's loafing. A lady caunot be too caraful of her manners, When suspicion is awakened doubt is aroused, That is the safest policy which insures success, A ray of hope makes the prospect brighter. Everyone can master a grief but he that has it. It genius is to find expression it must smploy art. Watch iess what people say than what they didn’t say. Better three hours too soon than one minute too late, Give greed an opportunity and it will take advantage. They lean to the side of virtue who are rightly ine ined. Time is as the body, and eternity the spirit of existence, . Religion, in these days, is com posed of vanity and piety. Those who have the fewest failings see the fewest in others, Strive everywhere to diffuse around you sunshine and joy. When a man has nothing to say, then is a good time to keep still. Ambition looks for opportunity; en- ergy bLelps to find it, The weak may be joked out of any- thing Lut their weakness, If the temper must be rufflad let the reason for it be made plain, A “fire escipa’’ is a slaner who gets religion at the last moment. An insult to one man is an insult to all for it may be our turn next, Manners are not idle, but the fruit of loyal natare and of nobles mind, Men will believe their passions quick- er than they will their coascienc ss, Man’s passions are generally wrong, and their conscience always right, A smile may waavs a subtle charm, | but tears are things which do most | harm, | If you put your eyes on yonr neigh- | bor's row the weeds will grow up in your own A whipping never hurts so much as ths thought that you are being whip- ped. The way to make yourself pleasing to others is to show that you care for them, One’s best friends will be found to walk only on the sunny side of the street. Peside covering a multitude of sins, charity is kept pretty busy advertising itself. Just about as ceremonies creep . into one end of a church, plety creeps out of the other. Yo u cannot become discouraged by looking ahead, if you will look far enough ashaad, There 13 one witness that never is guilty, of perjury, aod that is the con- SC ence, No books are so legible as the lives of men; no characters so plain as their moral couduct, st Nothing is so indicative of deepest culture as a tender consideration of the ignorant, Daspi ing fortune is not a sure way to gain her favors. Pipe to her, and she may dance to you, There are but few people who have miss«d a good opportunity to ventilate their opluions ‘*A man's work is from sun to sun,” and woman's work descends from daughter to dauguter. Of course (God knows how go~d we are, but we doubt if He koows how bad tke other fe lows are, If you flatter mankind with a few grains of truth they will grasp with avidity tha merest ray of a lie, (Give work rather than alms to the poor. The former drives out indolence; the latter, industry. nly a very pretiy young girl and a very rich old man can afford to be ine dependent ol p.easing. No man ever yet undertook to altsr his natare by substituting some inven- tion of his owao, but what made a boteh job or it, The world never knows what loud prayers a man can offer until he is | called upon to pray for the sins of his neighbor, Simpl ci'y in character, In manners, in sty e, to sll things the supreme ex- celienice is simplicity. The strongest pr p nsity in awoman’s nature is to want to know ‘‘what’s go- mg on!” and the next strongest is to toss tue job. M n and women who are actively employed in lightening the sorrows of others do not complain that life is with- out interest, Scorn not the day of little things, for tere is no man in the world so great but wha. some one can do him a favor i or an ipjury. It is not much trouble to bear the pain of somebody else's Jame back, but to have the lame bac ourselves ain't so stylish. The womanliness which has sweet. ness and stiength on the one side, and the tact and relf-coutrol on the other, is not easily overthrown: The golden beams of truth and the giiken cords of love, twistel together, will draw men on with a sweet vio ence, whether they will or no. Look within, Within 1s the fountain of god, and it will ever bubble up, if thou wilt ever dig. COMPANIONSHIP OF THE FIELDS, OR VOICES OF SUMMER. The golden-rod flashes, while ths wild asters And ag I pass o'er the bridge of the E'en rea hang sparkling in a niche of the Dew-fomined, and fitting for fairy queen's J Ai. O'er the wild-rose bushes the hummingbird darts, And back on the air a soft fragrance imparts, A Tricksy chipmunk cuuckles in frolicsome glee, As he pelts my head with nuts from a tree: Btares with his saucy black eyes, and all rus- set-gowned, Now here, now there, he is lost soon as found. In an istant drops down, flashes on o'er the wal But ere out of sight, sends back his pert eall. While up from the ferny brakes a little bird Springs; In joyous existence, rapturously sings. Among clover-blooms, butterfiles in and out gilnt; Locusts whir, bees drone, ‘mid wild pepper. mint, There's tinkle of cow-bells in pasture near-by, And, mellowed by distance, the hoarse village ory. With the singing of birds, I am up and away; And praising the Giver, hail the new day. ~ (dood Housekeeping” ss Ap MADELINE'S MISTAKE BY HELEN FORREST GRA VEX. All the Barchester family had come te the conclusion, separately and - collect ively, that Bess looked like a princess in her white dress with the straight, cling ing folds, tho V weck, sad the kcot o roses at the corsage that looked so ex actly like real buds and leaves. Bess was ‘very pretty, too—une of those warm-complexioned- blondes, witk reddish -bazel eyes, hair lighted up witl chestout gleams, and pearly teeth wii remind one of Titian's studies rad olc Peter Paul Rubens in his beppics moods. **Oh, Bes," cried Honors, ‘do wea your hair io a low coil at the pape of yourneck, with just a few cunning little rings escapiog.” *‘Nopsense!"” said Eudora. ¢Do it jr! Auffy mass at the top of your head, with an. amber dagger or arope of Romar pearls. + The Greek koot ds all out o date.” “Will you hold your tongues, both o youi” sharply demanded Bess, stamping her foot. ‘Oh, dear, how pervous feel! - Madelide, dear, if this first ‘even ing’ we have ever given should prove ¢ failure, 1-1 shall commit suicide.” “It won't prove a failure,” said Made. line, the eldest sister of all, Madelice hersell was hopeledaly plain, The bair that iu Bess's case was Titisg cowhide Dootd ‘and pepperandifall trowsers, and his fringe of chin whis kers, and that chronic eatavth of hi} My dedr Bese, if we ‘allow that old nuis ance to cross this threshold oh Toecsday evening, it amounts to throwing ap the game at once, And -he's written thal Le's coming on that evening." Bess grew paler «Oh, Madeline, what are wa to de!” * Madeline laughed. “I've managed it,” said she. I've written back to him that we've moved tg Fourteen Currant Court. Cousin Lucy Ravsont to make the best of the situation, - She can perdobate you, if ‘she chootefeeshe always had a tOrd for private theatricald, Ot she can con. vince the dear old buugler that he hay made some mistake. Anyhow, be'll be be safe until Weddesday mornibg, aod we are safe, too!” «sMaacline, what a contriver yon are?” said Bess, admiringly, “But I do feel gorry for Uncle Zab!" Madelive shrubbed her shoulders. +:It's poor policy to fzel sorry for any one,” observed she, “And what does an old lout like that know or caro whether he's snubbed or pot?” Bess's heart pricked her a little; but gho was an apt pupil in the cold philoso. pby of ber elder sister, and the arrival at that moment of a box of marrons glacees for the supper table diverted bry atteg. tion from the topic uader discussion. At No. 14 Currant Court, however, the Widow Ransom was furious. I'll bave wothing to do with it. personate Bess Barchester, You're about as much pumpkin is like a parsnip, good deal of work for me among hes | grand friends" “All that don’t make it your duty tc | teil a lie, nor to act it, neither, to suit | ber whims, said the old lacy. ! ‘‘And they're to have a great party op | Tuesday evening, you know.” i “Well, suppose they are? Didn't Bess | aud Madeline sod the two girls spend all | the summer at Blackford Farm three | years ago? Uncle Zabdiel dida’t make | any excuse for getting rid of them then, did he? 1 declare, they've no more bicarts than so many slabs of granite!” At this moment, however, there was a riog at the bell; and two fair-tressed, gold, vas in hers dull orange-red. Hu weak, pale: eyes were red-lided and | slightly - crooked; ber Dose - long sad! shatp, : But, nevertheless, Madeline was » genius -in ber way. Oid Judge Bar chester pever could have tided over the rough sex of creditors, privations and trials that beset bim bad it not beea for Madeline's help. “Don't fret, papa,” said the pale- eyed diplomat. *‘That idea of yours of giving up this handsome house is all non- sense. Who cares what the landiord says! Let him wait for his reat. It won't hurt him if he never gets it. Let the tradespeople rage; they are simply a lot of sharks. Here's Bess, a first-class beauty; and if she bas a fair chance, she's sure to make the family fortunes, But what can we any of us-do with » cheap flat and cold mutton for dinaer! One must bave opportunities. Jest Jet Bess and me alone, papa, sod you shall see what we can do,” And Judge Barchester, alwags willing to leave the problems of life for some one else to solve, flung the pile of dun- mpg letters into the fire, and buttoniog & costly fur-trimmed overcoat around bis portly figure, took refuge in the aristocratic halls of the club, while Madeline, like a faded.eyed bird of prey, fluttered forth amoag milliners, dressmakers sod modistes for the beaefit of Bess, the debutante. ‘Everything is arranged,” said she, composediy. *'I ordered tise supper of | Vauesse. I bad to pay something on out back iddebtedness, but § took care it should be ss little as possible, Steines sends in the flowers. We've pever or. dered flowers there before, god the poor fools are anxious to secure. our ‘custom, Mr. Bapper, the funoy mao, is to recite Mrs. Vyvyan engaged him for me. And Miss Dale will sing as Scotch ballad, There are plenty of picer people thas i Bess ¢olored.. “Ob, but we, will pay them, Made. | line, when we're able,” said she, “Wg don't mean to cheat them!" Madeline sneered a cold sneer, “Don't be silly, Bes?” said she. “Every one in this world is more or les engaged in cheating everybody else.” **But, Madeling~" burst in a shrill, small voice. Madeline Baschéster uttered an .excla. You here, Nora!” said the. Listen. ing std prying as usual! Leave the room ut oncesand; Dqra, too!" “But we want to sec Bess's new fin and gloves,” pleaded the two tall schooigirle, “Well, yotr chn't, thea i™ Aol without any ceremony, Madeline pushed Hooora . and Eudora from the round. “Horror little nuisances!™ sald abe, “But her's a letter, Bess, that} didn’t show you.” “ Anothér tormenting creditor ™ #Worse than that. It's fram Uocle Zalbdiel Cooper, down at- Blackwood Farm, where you stayed that: summer you bad the whooping cough. “Don't you remember” Best's efes softened, A gracious dim. ple tame out at the corner-of het houth, “What I"! she criedet'dear old Uncle Zab?” +Very dear,” observed Madeline, pone temptuously, “‘and very delightful! Just the person to make a sensation al at your ‘At Horie, under Mrs. Fitsalan' eve, und sraked-b “the. fire of Mee: Awd Urey, Rockiogham's lorgnette] A¥ith slimy young girls rushed breezily into the roomy; drazgiar a browa faced old farmer between them, 4 “It's Doras and me,” said Honora Barchester, breathless sod red.cliveked, “‘And we've brought-Uscle Zabdie] with us!” *‘It's Nora and me!” put in Euders; crowding herself iot> the {oreground. “‘Hew do you.do, Cousin Rassom end | Lucy? We went to the depot tormeet him, and’ a good job it was, for he | bado't the least ides which way to go.” +‘He “was "beading straight for tho | Weehawken ferry,” giggled Honors. Uncle Zabdiel's round moon {ste | beamed sll over. “J except I be prétty stupid.” said | he. ©“Butl guess 1 should ‘a fetched | round all tight, if these ‘ere gals.hada't | tok possession of me Where's the | bag o' hickory nuts, Honors? Who's | got the basket 0° pound sweets, Eadory? | Here's the carpet-sack and the papers | box all right.” : And he shook hands heartily with Mrs. Ransom and Lucy. “How you, Poelel” “Aud Litle Lucy, too? women; haia't youl said he, | Got tobe a 3 Livia" with thé judge's folks, I suppose! Rot where's Madeline, and my little favorite, Bessi” Lucy and’ hee mother looked Lesitas tingly at each other,but Hooora plunged into the quéstion at once. “I'll tell you, Uncie Zabdiel,"™ said the, “Nora aod I arct’t fools, por | yet children—and Madeline and Bess | have treated us shamefully, sod #8 we're going to bo revenged Ly telling their secrets. They're going to have an *At Home," and they've invited 8 lot of grand people, and when they got Your letter, they decided that dida't want you. -" “Hey 1” cried Uncle Zabdiel, Yes," eried Eudora, taking up the thread of the discourse, ‘the mean, uns grateful thidgs-=alter all that dear, des lightful summer at Blackford Farm, that saved Ben's good for;nothing, life they laughed at your cowhide boots and chia | whiskers, and Madeline made believe to cough out loud just as you do some. times, and" swWell, [ declare!” said Uncle Zabdiel, relieving his brouchial tubes by the samme identical cough, and growing very red. “sAnd so,” again chimed io Hovors, | “sou were to be made to believe that we | lived at fourteen Currant Court, and | kept out of the way of the company.” “‘They nesdn’t put themselves to all that trouble,” Al old Uncle Zabdiel, letting his head drop oa his two hands. “1f they badan't wanted me, why dida't thoy say sol ‘I want no one to peril their souls by telling falsehoods on my ac count.” Both the girls flew at Uacle Zabdiel with hugs and kisses. / * ‘We lovg you, Uncle Zab!" said Dora, vehemently, “We heard it all, eves ster Madelios drove us out of the room. We listened st the register, and we wade up our minds you shouida’t. be" “Deceived ‘and put upon!" Noes struck in. “*And please don't be vexed with us because we are Madeline's and Bess's little sisters! It's quite true whet Dora sags. Wo do love you. We're tired of being scolded by the girls and soubbed by papa. Uncle Zab, maya’'t we go back to the farm with you sad be ry-girle, or milk-naids, of something of kind? I'm awful fond of chickens, and Dora can weed onlons and shell corn. Please, ond The old man y himself up, aod dashed the big drops from his eyelashes ’ be “No, girls,” said he-~*‘no! Thataln't my notion, I've sold the old fim to a | railway, and - I've made & good bargain, | 80 folks say. I guess I'm what my cousin, | Judge Barchester, would csil a rich man, | ind I was going up bere to end my days | with my relations, gud leave 'e¢m my money after I was dead, But every. ~<and you and Lucy shall be my house- keepers. And ll adopt Nora and ors for my own. Yes, girle, I'vo no daugn. ters, and sou shall take thé place to me!” “Oh, Uncle Zabdieil” - écstatically | thricked Dorg and Nora with ope accord, Besp Barchester’s “At Home” was a very tame affair. The funny ‘man did not come at all.” Mise Dale bad such's cold that her voice made no jrmpresiton owtbedompany. “The wrong people all care and the right people. stayed: away. Altogether it scored as a failure, in spite of Madehipe's heroic efforts, «By:the.way; girls,” &aid the’ Judge, as heropened the morting paper at the morrow's late and insipid breakfast, i<gou really must write for your mother’s old Uncle Cooper to comdé up * here, and take some notice of hin, It seems he has sold the old place for 8 stupendous price to soine railroad company, who aro going to build up a monster hotel there, with a lot Of miners! springs or some such money-making contrivance: Downes told me all about it at the club, vall the old man the “Blackford Million. dire.” I dou't think he has many rela tions but ourselves, Madeline? tnanager.” “Yes," sald Madelide, gloomily, ‘and f bégin to think I've ‘managed’ all the life out of it.” Uncle Zabdiel, however, déclined to be ‘‘taken some notice of,” and great vider daughters whea they on them, “Jf your uncle wishes to adopt any- one,” fumed Judge Barchester, ‘theres Madeline bas the family brains; aud Bess the family beauty.” “And Nora and Dora have all the beart and soul there is in the family,” quietly observed Uncle Zabdiel; “so 1 Saturday Night. A IRI rn oe Ry. OUR HOMES. A genuine home, expressivg the very heart of its inmates, tells a story of un- written good, if ‘the heart is full of light.” What blessedners tojboys and girls in schools and colleges, in places of business, away from their own fam ilies! Unrest, temptation, the conscious- ness of being alone, the freedom with such power of Recep tive and sympathetic they reflect their surroundings, and define life by what their young eves see, What a welcome A rich banker in Washington, whose thousand dol- daughter; “Jenny Wren.” The day before Christmas as she was chattering along beside him, on the way home from the bank she said, “Father, that new boy looks lonesome and I want to invite him to dinner with us to-morrow,” “Lonesome! ‘The new boy? are you talking about Jenny?" “Why father, you know the new mesenger boy from Baltimore; he often comes to the house on errands you remember? Well he looks kind of sober and homesick, | ard so I talked with mother about him | to-day, and she jost saad right away, | wo must ask him to dinner and make | What “Jenny Wrens are odd chicks! but that mother of yours is about right, she | knows how to manage boys—girls too | We'll see about the | chap to-morrow.” Jenny tucked her little self confid- ingly closer under her fathers arm,and said: “Ture's a good old father now! I've been thinking about that boy a good deal.” Jenny sighed and added. “You ree father I should be very unhappy in a strange city st work and no home.” The weekly letter from the bank read as follows: My Dear Lrrrie Moraes: This will be such a jolly will make you ery for Joy. letter and | Iam well | blue | Mr. | Washington; and #0 no more homesick letters from your boy. evening, and Mrs. Grey is splendid! | She neked me sll about you and our | troubles and how I came to be away | from yon, and then she said I must make her house my home, and mother all over. It was too good to be true, Tattle “Jenny Wren” is the only child | hey have, and she sang for me, and | jus visited with me, as if I were rich | ike her father. Oh, Mother, if 1 hadn't | been sshamed I would have eried for! joy for I have been so—homesick—for | — yOu, : The whole future of that boy may § that first day among friends. This family 1s one of many on both sides of | the ocean who Jrodinin the glory of God in songs of praise, and joy 1a all the graces of cultured life belonging to society; and still above it. Elegance and luxury used “In His Name,” are simply means toward the great end of education, bewnty and power—in a busy work-a-day world, What solitude 1s there like being alone in acrowd? Faves— voices, every- where full of cheer and good times, but none to smile a welcome on the stranger, Oh. the glory of home, whether it be Iain an | simple or costly and clegant! must be full of light win; good comradeshi y, Isughter ony To Dat teaty of love and companionship. Lafe is lifted ap from isolation and loneliness, it becomen ail at once familiar with the contagious » graces of the home circle; and strangers are glad, iu the larceness and freedom of the very #i- of the hourebold, "Uis a very little thing for a man or woman to s.wy “Come home with me to-day '—a very little thing 1a well ap- jointed honseiold where there is al-’ ways un plate for a fr end, bat more than a “little thing’ to the homesick boy or girl, man or womay, tired of “lodgings,” sick of strange faces, as they hurry in and out, each intent upon bis oan affairs. Davtime for the of- fice the bank, the shop or for study, but nights «re so lonely, | “Johv, the fact 1s, I am going down town somewhere! Let's hant up some boys and have some fun. I'm tired to | death of this old dull room snd I'm most blind, stadying.” “But,” said Stephen, “we don't know any nice place: and wa can’t afford to go to the theatre. Why not go over to Becretary N's house —yon know they've invit d us to come any time and make | ourselves at home!” That told a long story! I know the family well, They have boys and girls of their own. They sing and shout and | play games, 'I'he great drawing room rings with their sweet young voices and when on Sunday evenings—with | father and mother taking part in the dear old hymns, the homesick boys and girls widen the circle around the piano, | ~—they forget to te lonely! They mt in the fawily pew at church and sing the old hymns of mothers and sisters We have many such homes in our capital where “Uncle Sam” as in no other city in the world In these homes the lamp is shaded softly at night, the big city 18 curtained away, and the noise and cin of office is forgotten in the fond voices of chil- dren and the “mothering” they get from the woman who understands the needs of the weary and heavy laden. Not the dinner, not the Heate glass and china, not the actual rds of welcome, but that indescribable something which means home to every heart. A young English boy ington a few Years ago, handsome nameless came to Wash in some the Btate and flice in Depariment. He made few acquaintance health failed, after the first year. He told a friend: “Oh how I longed or home! | hoogered for my mother 1 fairly grew ill from wanting ber! I strolled over the beautifal city; visited the churches; places of ment; in th many people but for none. One said, “Lander yoav'e got the damp ! get into my buggy and drive gs, and his went to AI UKE - ked wm Gay cared my home she's famous for that” “But thanks—bat pected!” “Fadge. body; might as well be you!” a | went Nobody seemed surprised. The boye and girls came home with all the life and glory of health in their welcome I'm not ex- firelight from the grates, the open tures on the walle, gave to my lonely, hungry heart food, warmth and comfort. The mother in that home gave mo a mother's welcome and angels in heaven smiled heard ber words.” There are they long lives into rest, who live—may-be whose homes ht of selfishness but*‘clear shining as sun’ years build and build on the rock of Aor with music of speech—the mume of sound —only one symphony, besatiful and sacred sacred because it is the of love, the song which mothers sing to COImes the [ Li ’ “Home, Sweet Home.’ Marcanur SPEXCER Washington, D. C.. 1891, A Camel's Reservolr. Admiral D. DP. Porter, who once went 1 North Africs to secure came:s for in- sroduction into America, gives $oms «a= seresting points about the value of these He, Tai «Jn their campsigas against Algiers the French werd tod to seo their samels although uced to skeletons, making forced marches with their loads. Mules in their condition could not have jed even their saddles. MA camol's flesh is us good as Deel. You can hardly tell ope mest from the Camel's milk is very good, as I can testify, because I used it in my cof- fec, “A camel generally drinks once in three days, snd, besides his four stomachs, be carries & sort of reservoir in which be stores water. J bave been told that even pints of clear, drinksble wales takes ftom it,” Had Tried Politics. Sreat Statesman (to married daugh- ter) —*My dear, your hushend will never amount to anything ir you don’t spur him on. Why don’t you persiade Tim to go into politics?” Daughter— “But, pa. he has tried, and he can't stand it. The whisky makes him sic” Success begets envy. Lovers feed upon mysteries, Smile on the sad and dejected. Familiarity begets contempt. Ability involves responsibility. Take the hand of the friendiess. Power, to its last particle, is duty. Sympath'ze with those tn trouble. la at an ie, Sood Suing So. re, Woh man % is an instrument of happiness, Beasts can weep when they suffer, but they cannot laugh, Nature has made occupations neo- essite to us; society makes ita duty; habit may make it a pleasure. —"The younger Midgely can ride ag 85 pounds. v Ax i1y frotted a mile In 2.12% at Cleve. land recently, —Simmicolon, record 2.19, Is being prepared for the fail races, ~There is no truth in the port of Tenny’s break-down, —Foxhall Keene has named the 8. year-ol1 sister 10 Kingston, Queenston, ~The stallion Nelson has shown 2.144 first half in 1.06, since going to De. tioit —Tristan, who injured himself be latest re. ~The noted stallion Abs Downing, record 2.20%, died at Waterloo, Ia, recenily, — Bternberg, 2.26}, the sensational 2- year old, bas gore wrong in his train. ug. ~The dam of Hal Pointer, 2.00%, has a bay colt by ber side by Brown Hal, 2.124, ~—Hinda Rose, 2 19}, is training well, and is expected to beat her record this Beason, ~The little pacer Richball, 2.12}, 1s entered in the free-for-all race at Knox- ville, Ia. . ~Jockey Williams has signed to ride for Scroggan JirotLers duripg the bale ance of the season, — Electioneer now has seventy-three pacer in tbe lot. ~Jockey Britton is slowly but surely recovering, but wil not be able to ride again this season ~—It Is a common practice to put up an incompetent jockey when the horse is not desired to win. — Trainer John 8, Campbell has gone to 1ecuperate, He is troubled with malaria. --"1'hie aggregate attendance four days of the Pitt-bus Cut weeling was about for the r Grand Ofr- - 3,000) ~ James Goldsmith is far from weil but R potted he 1 has had no serious relapse as re- n some of the papers, n — M reus Daly, of Montana, has sent all h , trotters, pacers and thor- oughbreds East for the summer, 8 horses ~—dJockey Overton's re out of seven mounis ty, wa Wi ord of six wins in one day, recent. probably never beaten, liam Disston will sell all of his horses at Pleasant Valley Stock Farm, Woodstc fu ola — Two trotters named Playboy are Oae by i* owned by C. J. Hamlin and one Marvin says that sixteen of the be get of Ansel, WE If ¢ it} s sald that General Harding, who, in Sam Bryant's hands asa 2.year- ~The Washington Jockey Club tober 19 and the ensuing ten days. The purses will amount to $23,000, There are 6566 entries for the big Aug- ust meeting of the Independen ¢ Drive Park Assccumation, Tor which the stakes and purses foot up $00,000 inz — It is rumored that 1.. J. Rose, the California turfman and proprietor of the Rosemende stable, w ill soon sell his en. tire stable and retire from Lhe turf --The Sibley Injunction against the Trotting Register Associ. ation has been dissolved, and the office of the astoclation has been removed to Chicago. It is suggested that a spring circuit of mile tracks, incluaing Fleetwood, Poughkeepsie, Rome, Rochester, New- ark and Buffalo, could be made up in New York, ~ Eureka, by Star Duroc, 2.25§, dam Laiy Langtry, by Past’s Hambleton. jam. won & 4-year-old stake at Elkton, Md. recently in 3.08, 2 57,dnven by R, T. C. Crouch. «The chestnut stallion Edwin Thorne died on June 24, at Beech Hill farm, Colebrook Centre. He was by Taclios {son of Hamlet and Dolly, by Rysdyk's Hambletoniar), -(n account of the rule limiting an- tries for a race to fifteen, eleven horses were drawn from the first race and three from the second in a recent Biighton Beach programmume, ~The Breeder's Association of Mary. land and the District ef Columbia have sel cted the Gentleman’s Driving Ciub The October 1. ~J. B. Hagelin 1s again calied to mourn the loss of a member of his fami- lv. On July 13, at Santa B wbara, Cal, his daughter, Reta 8. Haggia, away, Only = few short months ago his son, Ben All, died in New York, - Messrs, 1°. J. Dwyer & Son have boughs the fine 4 year-old mare, Re- clare, and the promising 2-year-oid fily Zorli from Mess. H, Warnke & Non. terms are private, but It is said by good authorities that §°000 was the price paid for Reclare and $5000 for Zorliog. ~The woking office of the Wa'lace Trotting Register Company has been removed to ie Rialto building, Chica All communications relating to the ness of that company, as well as all new business referring to remslia- tion, should be addressed 1° J, Buiaer, Registrar, Box 4, Chicago IL ~The 47-year-old trotter, Stationary, which died recently at B Conn, used to trot st Sherwood Park, and beat borse that tackled him. He wis ers y white, and when he sailed down the homestretch at full speed In a ¢loud of dust was no joor imi of the sli-conguering * pale horse" finally knocked him out. ,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers