*
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. ,