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&*. J ?>'' tr ? . SPRING. When birds are singing On bush and tree, And opening roses Allure th? bee? When grass is growing In glade and glen, And young leaves gladden The lonely fen. : When earth yields glimpses Of hoarded grain, And the sunshine glimmers Through threads of rainWhen dew is falling On stalk and bud, And fervid fancies Invade the blood? When brooks are flowing In music free, And warm winds travel Across the sea. When earth beguiles us With smile or tear, We know with gladness That spring is here! ' > ? William H. Hayne,in Youth's Companion. ? THE TWO GEORGES. " - BT PAUL PASTJfOB. They say that fate governs the choices j of young hearts. Perhaps fate had soms- i thing to do with the inditing of the two following notes: Summer view, June 58. My Darling Niece: I am to be all alone this summer in the dear old homestead at Summerview. Of course I shall have itfy servants with me, but when I say "all alone" I mean 1 shall be without a companion, unless you, dearest girl, will come and spend the summer with me. Do say that you will. I shall be so lonely. And then, too, you know that you promised to come some time and ransack the old house. I know you will finJ it full of treasures. Why, the garret has not beau disturbed for fifty years, and C- such a collection of antiquities as you will flnh hvlopa i wm'fa ???? k%? ?~ ??mu? v *< * >ic uio uj 1 CI Ut IX UUilll tUttb j you will come. I shill take no other ansvrer. i Let me know the d*y when you will arrive and a conveyance shall meet you at the station. Your loving Acnt Mart. Miss Geoiige Pai>te, Brooklyn, N. Y. summerview, July 1. My Dear Bot: 1 have settled down at last and you may come ani see me and welcome. No more seafaring life for your old Uncle Ben! Here I am in a neat little cottage ; on the banks of a pretty lake; and here I shall stay until I make the last long voyage j unto that "bourne from which no traveler i returns." I have a little boat in which I drift I about the lake now and then, and an old naz that I jog to town behind. I have books and cariosities, a gun and a dog, and plenty of fishing cackle. Come down, you rascal, and enjoy youiself. Come any time, and stay as V "" long as von please. I shall enjoy it as much a* you will. Your old sea-dog of an uncle, Ben Duummond. < George Matthews, Cambridge, Mass. Miss George Paine, of Brooklyn, was in ecstasies when she received her aunt's note. She had made no plans for the summer. Indeed, she had not determined to make any, hoping that Aunt Mary would remember the promise once ex- j acted and repeat the invitation to come j to Sumtrierview when she should have taken noasncsinn of tha inlrt Vinnao Tf ; there was anything under the broad ' " , blue sky that George Paine adored, it: was rummaging. In her woman's na- j ture it was akin to the masculine passion j for discovery. She could enter an old j garret or storeroom with as much ro-j mantic swelling of heart as an explorer aailing into some great unknown bay or lake in the midst of an untrodden wilder- I neas. Her temperament was poetic and meditative. She was unlike mo?t other | girls of her age, or, perhaps it would be more proper to say young ladies, for George was twenty. She was not ex actly a "pretty recluse," for she loved a lltt'e society now and then. Neither by saying that her temperament was "poetic," should it be inferred that she was a writer of very poor sentimental verse? as too many young ladies who call themselves "poetic" are. She loved to read | good poetry, and sometimes poetic! . . ^ 'dreams would run in her pretty i little head. This was the extent of her j weakness! in that direction. Her love , of old and curious things was natural ! enough. She had always dovoured his tfir? thrnwinir Hnnf if trlom/Mi* nf ! her own imagination. She had read all j the historical novels she could get hold of, especially stories of American colo- j nial nistory. All the colon:al poems in ! American literature she had by heart, and ; it was the crowning joy of her life tnat1 the had once shaken hands with Long-1 fellow in company with a score of her classmates who bad called upon the poet at his home in Cambridge. Now the very opportunity she had always longed for presented itself in the : note from Summerview. Aunt Mary had l*taken posse-sion of the o*.d homestead? George's g. eat-^reat-grandmother's orig* inally?and had invited her to come and rummage ' in it. The house was one of i the oldest in Massachusetts, and for! more than a hundred years it had been j accommodating in its dark recesses heir- , iuuuis aim treasure i 01 me uarit past;. Could anyth'ng be more romantic?' George sat down immediately and wrote: j FK-. Brooklyn, N. V.. June 30. Dearest Austie?Of course I will come many, many thanks for your kind invitation. I Look for me next Saturday. George Unc'.e Ken's letter found George Mat- : thews at Cambridge. The young man j had just graduated from Harvard Col- ; lege and was taking a long breath after the labor and excitement of annuals and ( ' commencement. The opportunity for ; rest and amusement at 8ummerview was just what he watted. Besides, Uncle; Een was the prince of good fellows?a jolly old soul who knew more about the round world than half the professors, and whose knowledge, best of all, was flntirelv "first hand " So. iu>t before the "g!oriou3 Fourth"' George delivered the key of his room to his landlady, and with a monstrous trunk tilled with books, pipes, pictures-everything but clothes, for the young man was not at all dressy ?took his departure for dear, old, sleepy Summer view. As it happened, the very day when George Matthews' train diew up at Summerside station George Paiue had gone fishing a'.ono in the little lake beyond the viilagc. A curiou* thing for a young lady to do, did you say? Wei1, George Paine was a curious girl. !rhe didn't give a snap for the conventionalities For almost a week now she had been nimmannnf? steudilv in the dark, close o?"? ? ffarret of the old manse, and to-day she longed for some fivsh air and some exercise. "VVhat shall I do. auutie? she asked. "What out-door sport have you prepared for ir.y sole and special en oyment?" "Why, dear child. I hadn't thought of that at all 1" was Aunt Mary's dismayed reply. "In fact, I didn't suppose that ? -*1 *T.v,? you carea lor oui-uour spuria. girls don't" ''Most city girls do, njntie, begging your pardon. Well, now, let me see. Is there a saddle horse, or even a sidesaddle, connected with the establishment?'' "Jh, dear, no! None of the women here ever ride horseback." "There?I have it!"exclaimed Gearge irrelevantly, clapping her hands. "I sa<v a fishing rod and line out in the barn yesterday. Whose is it?" " iohD's. I "suppo30 Ho occasionally bv i " brings in a mess of fish. But you wouldn't go fishing, child!" "That I would, auntie, and will, too! Wheie is John?" "He went to Weybridge this morning to get the horses shod." "Well, then, I'll go alone!" was George's determined answer. Aunt Mary did all she could to dissuade her niece from such a "hoydenish" proceeding, but the vivacious girl would not listen. "Oh, I've been fishing many times before," she cried. "Every year when we go to the raounta'ns I take my ? *?** owl rtck fnr trnilt. KnW I WU Willi I lie UUU IICU 4V? ? vwo. don't you worry. I'll iust step over to the lake and t!sh from the bank, and I'il he home to supper with a string of fish just as sure as my name ia G-e-o. Paine. So there!" George ran out to the barn, captured the rod and line, and started off. She crossed the field behind the (hurch and was just entering the lane that ran down through the meadow when she suddenly stopped and caught her breath wi.h a whimsiral look of dismny. No bait! Worms?she wouldu't touch the dirty things, anywny. Even if she had them who would bait her hook ? " -1 L I - urassnoppurs?ujju ; iuo gicat scratchy, syrupy things I Well, what then? Perhaps there would be a little boy at the lake whom she could bribe to put one of his worm3 on her hook. Happy thought! George trudged merrily on again, and in due time arrived at her destination. There she found a boat?a real pretty little boat, too. with one of those movable sails folded and lying under the thwarts?but no boy in sight anywhere, nn enocimnn nf t.hp crnntlS homo HlflSCU line gender of any description. Well, she could take a boat ride, any way. She would hire the boat. % "Walking up to the little cottage above the cove e'eorge knocked at the door. ; Xo response. She knocked again and ! louder. Still no answer. Then she J tried the door. It was locked. Impelled i by curiosity, she stole around and looked ! in at one of the windows. Iler first! mental comment was: "Some man lives ! here alone?au old bachelor, I'll wager." Everything in the room which she was ! inspecting was in order, but not in fern- ! ininp <vrr?pr A hie iar. with tWO oilieS sticking out of it, stood on the table; n gun lay across some pegs on the wall; a ! large pair ot slippers occupied a prominent place on the rug in front of the empty fireplace. "Well, I suppose I ought not to be peeking," s:ghed CJeorge, after she had surveyed the room with its entire contents and thoroughly satisfied her curiosity. "I guess I'll borrow the man's ! boat, any way, and pay him when he j comes home." So saying she hurried ! down to the beach again, and pushing i the little boat olf from shore?for it was not fastened in any way?she jumped j aboard and drifted out into the clear. waters of the lake. The oars lay across ' the thwarts, and George picked them un, fitted them to the tholepins, and '? J J i-V - rowed out oi me cove ana arouuu ma ; point. "I wonder if I could fish, with-! out bait?" she queried. Just then her eye fell upon something bright and glit- \ tering that lay under the stem seat of the boat. She pulled it out and there was a trolling spoon with a hundred feet e>r more of line. "Eureka!" cried the young lady. "Xow I can fish." She rowed the boat rapidly for a short distance to give it headway and then j paid out her line until she had about; fifty feet of it in the water. Then she j took the line in her teeth, in old fisherman f.shion, and rowed on up the shore, i Suddenly there was a tug that came near ] loosening some of the fair fisherwomau's pearly teeth. She dropped the oars and seized the line with both hands in a J hurry. "Dear me!" it must be n dreadful^ big one!"she gasped, as the boat whirled around with the desperate efforts of the fish to escape. George hung on bravely, i however, and presently the fish became more quiet, so that she was able to draw it slowly toward the boat. The excitement increased as the distance between J the boat and the fish diminished. ' Every ' now arid then the victim would make a ! dart to right or left and the line would j fairly ring through the water, while j Georere clung to it with a pale determina-1 tion "which would have made her laugh! if she could have seen it. Now the J victim wa* almost in sight. George knew it was a monster by the way it tugged, and, anxious to obtain a glimpse of Tier prize, and also thinking she could ! manage it betier thus, she stood up in ; the boat. This action frightened the \ fish. It pluDged desperately downward. j The boat rocked and swung half around;J George lost her balance, and, with a piercing scream, fell headlong into the water. The next thiug she knew she was lying in the boat and a man was rowing her j rapidly toward the shore. She had not been in the water a great while, but she plainly remsinbercd the choking sensa tion when she first went down. As soon as the man who was rowing saw her i open her eyes he held the oars suspended for a moment and a look of intense relief aud satisfaction came into hi* face. "Oh, j sir!' cried George faiutly; "it is to you I owe my life. How can I ever repay i you?" "It is reward enough just to see you ! open your eyes again!" exclaimed the' youug man, warmly. His fine eyes glowed as he spoke, and George could i not help remarking in the midst of her \ distress that he was as handsome as he 1 was heroic and good. Before the boat j had e ? en grated" on the beach a pair of j strong arms seized it and dragged it up ' high and dry. | Well, miss," cried a gruff but hearty ! voice, "you got capsized, ch? My stars, h')w wet you are! Come up into the ' ; house right off. And you, George, go j ; and change your clothes straight away." It was Uncle Ben. He had been to the stat on to meet h!s nephew, and it1 was while on their way to l'ncle Ben's ! "snuggery" that they had becomfe spec- j tators of" Miss George I'aine's contest, ' with the big fish ana her ignominious ; plunge into the water. It was at this | ! juncture that George Matthews had swum out and saved the fair angler j from drowning. j "When L'ncle Bi n commanded his j nephew to "go and change his clothes ; straight away," a startled and question - j ing look had come into George Paiue's : face. L'ncle Ten noticed it ana mumbled out an apo.ogv: *u wai spi-itK.iug iu uij nephew, miss." "Why, my name is George, too!" cxj rlaimed the girl, with a laugh. "What a co:n<idcn e!" 'Well, I should 6ay so!" replied j Uncle Ben. "You are the first girl I ever heard call herself by a boy's name, j But here you arc shivering. You must ; come right into the house." In less than five minutes the old gen; tlcman had a smart blaze started in the j "snuggery " fireplace. "I wish I had ' something dry for you to put on,,,!^ic : cried, throwing a big shawl over the I girl's shoulders, "ueorge, you rascai, i you here yet? I thought I told you to j go and change your wet clothes. Oh, ! they're at the depot, eh? Well, take i some of mine, take some of mine, my | boy!" s V--. 7.'" V. f ' Oh, I'm not very wet, uncle. Let me bring some more wood for the fire." "Aha! so you're ashamed to be seen in your uncle's duds, eh? Well, catch cold if you will; you'll have yourself to thank for it The consequences must be on your own head." 4'And in it, too!" laughed George Paine, who was beginning to get dry before the generous blaze, and whose natural vivacity thawed out correspondingly. The young man joined in the laugh and drew up in front of the fire. Meanwhile Uncle Ben bustled around, made another fire in the stove and pro*. CCL'Ueil IU UICW 3U11IV iba. George Paine lingered in the " snuggery " with her new found friends and getting "warmed through," as she expressed it, until she noticed, with a start of apprehension, that it was beginning to get dark. "Dear me!' she exclaimed, "1 had no idea it wasgetting so late. I positively must go." At that very instunt there came a of fVio d/mr fhA masculine George 4U|/ UW bUV Vtwt* ?? sprang to open it, and who should march in but?Aunt Mary." "Well, I am astonished, George Paine!" was the good lady's first exclamation. Then, recovering herself, she apologized' to the gentlemen for her rudeness and sank into a chair completely overcome. "Oh, do explain it to auntie!" cried George Paine, appealingly, to George Matthews. "Madam," said the young man, addressing Aunt Mary, "it certainly is my duty to explain how myself and my worthy uncle so summarily made the oi>nii?int?nr,n nf vonr niece." Aunt Mary settled herself to listen, with a very aggrieved expression of countenance. However, in less than five minutes the whole matter was clearcd up, and the good lady was joining with her niece ia voluble expressions of gratitude. "What can we do, sir," she cried, "to show how greatly we appreciate your bravery and kindness?" "Allow me to escort you ladies home," replied George Matthews, gallantly, with a smile and a bow. "And me, too," broke in Uncle Ben. Very naturally, it happened, on the * v # rr U way tnrougn tne neias xrom mc.c dcu ? snuggery to the old manse, that the two olderly people drifted together and the two Georges weie left to follow behind ?a privilege of which they availed themselves, nothing loth. "I hope we shall see each other again," said George Matthews, in a low voice, as they parted. "So do I," answe-ed George Paine, franklv. "I want to catch that big fish that pulled me into the lake, and perhaps you can help rae<" 'I should like to try very hard," exclaimed her companion. , Six weeks later, on the very spot where George Paine had had her adven '? -? a? ture wilq me moabicr unu, tuc oomu boat was floating:, George Matthews idly toying with the oars, Georgo Paine trying to pick the tiller ropes to pieces. ''Well, we haven't caught him yet," said George Paine. "No, we haven't?that's true," assented George Matthews. Then followed a long silence, which showed how little the young people cared whether they caught the fish or not. Finally George Matthews broke the silence. His voice troubled slightly. "Don't you think it is ridiculous that there should be two Georges io this little town?" "Yes?I do." "And?and, you know, there might be only one if wo chose." "How so?" "Why, if we two should?should marry we would become one, wouldn't we?" "F-e-s.'l "And will you marry me?" He was kneeling at her feet now, his hands clasping hers, his voice passionate with earnestness. "Darling," he pleaded, "you know I love you better than life. Yoq know I cannot live without you 1 Do not, do not say there is no hope forme!" George Pain lifted her tear-wet eyes and looked into those of her lover. That was all the answer be needed. me next moment the happy girl was clasped to his breast. Aunt Mary and Uncle Ben assured each other that they had xnown all along just how it would turn out.. "After all, there's something in names," quoth Uncle Ben.?New York Mercury. A Monster Ship Raft Mr. Hugh R. Robertson is building a great timber ship, which is to bo towed from Is ova Scotia to New York. The New York Herald says that when completed her dimensions will be: Total length over all, 000 feet; width, 54 feet; depth, 3S feet. She will be constructed of about 25,000 spruce trees and pieces of piling, the sticks average thirty-eight feet in length, running up in size from a diameter of six inches at the small end. The ship has no hold, but her hull is a solid mass from keel to deck, rounding up fore and aft, as the boss carpenter says, "in regular shipshape." The vessel will carry six masses, eacn I built twelve feet into the hull and fitted with spring stays snd shrouds. She will be square rigged, with fore and aft trysails, and will be fitted with windlass, anchors, rudder and full steering gear. The foremast head and mizzenmast head will be fitted with a crow'a nests, cach supplied with a powerful, self-feeding lump, capable of burning for thirty days, so that in the event of the craft being temporarily abandoned at sea she will give timely warning by night to all approaching vessels. She will carry a crew of twenty men,for whose accommodation a large house is to be erected on the deck. Tt- !nfnnrla^ t/\ OmnlrttT ft Tinwprflll lb id luicuutu IW vu*|/ivj W .. ? steamer to tow the craft to New York, with probably a smaller steamer as tender! and Mr. Kobertson is confident that the voyage can bo accomplished in much shorter time than if h.s logs were arranged in the form of a raft. A Blind Man's Remarkable Faculty. Blind Bobby Maxwell, who for nearly his whole lifetime had worked about trains aud car yards, was buried a few days ago, from his home in Philadelphia. "Bobby" was totally blind, and never *- **1~ ?It i Ortrtl/^nnf VltO ^natli met Willi lUC SllgUVCStatUUCUlr, uin uvuw having been a natural one. i Maxwell was (>1 years of age, and was | first employed a3 a brakeman on the old j Philadelphia and Trenton Railroad. I About thirty-two years ago his sight becaaic so bai that he was compelled to j give up th:it branch of railroading and I mif tn wnrk in the vard at Kensintr too. In a short time ho tecame totally blind, but still kept on working. His regular employment was sawing wood for the engines, but he often employed himself in assisting his wife, who was a car cleaner. Maxwell had a happy faculty of stepping from one train to another and in front and between moving trains, depending entirely on his sense of hearing to guide him. This perception he had cultivated to a wonderful degree. He could readily tell his friends by their footsteps, and would step out of the way of an approaching person as readily as if he had t?een gifted with perfect sight. ?FhHadeljjhia Record. p WOMAN'S WORLD. PLEASANT LITERATURE FOR FEMININE READERS. Mrs. Cleveland's Stationery. Mrs. Cleveland uses different kinds of stationery, according to the character of the note. Sometimes she uses very small note paper with "Executive Mansion" priuted in blue letters at the head of the paper and the upper left hand corner of the envelope, ana seals it with white wax stamped with her monogram: "F. F. C." On another kind of note paper, small and linen-finished, she has only hfir initials in small cold text. A third style has the words: "Executive Mansion, Washington," in small silver letters on both envelope and paper. Her favorite paper is blue tinted, and has in one corner of the paper the national shield in colors and the words "White House" on the envelopes. This she uses for particular friends.?Ma il and Exprus. Brieht Maiden Ladies. In my own limited circle of acquaintances, and trusting to the memory of the moment, Bays a writer for the Philadelphia Pres*, I can count twenty-three maiden ladies ranging variously all the way from thirty to sixty year of age. Several of them are teachers in private or public schools; others are literary women; others the proprietors or heads of dressmaking and millinery establishments, and several are ladies of leisure and of smaller or larger fortune. Taken all in all, they are among the brightest and best women I know to-day or have ever known. Taken all in all, they will compare favorably in comeliness of person. strength of character, refinement, and attractiveness of manners, various capability and soundness of character, with the best twenty-three married ladies of my acquaintance, and I do not count social or intellectual nobodies in this line. Alligarors for Hat?. We have seen birds, frogs, kittens, rabbits and puppies' heads, to say nothing of all the nowers there are, all the kinds of feathers ever worn by any kind of bird, ana fruits as well as grain and grass, and all the vegetables, from tiay cucumbers to carrots and cabbages, so that now it would almost seem as if there were nothing else in tne worm emit couia be utilized as a new garniture for hats and bonnets, says Olive Harper in the Schenectady Star, and yet there is a new style of trimming which has already captured the female heart, and that is baby alligators. They are not many so far, but those who have them are the envied of their sex. The young alligators which are used for this style of trimming are from six to ten inches long and must be the real thing, stulled and with bright glass eyes and arranged so as to appear to be crawling up the front trimmings of ribbon bows. Their pretty mouths are opened wide and they have a most encacrincr expression of innocent mirth on their "gentle countenances. We have seen real stuffed lizards before on hats, but the alligators are now the fascinating style and add another charm to youth and beauty. Origin of Earrings. By the w4y, talking of earrings, says a writer lor the Jewel rJ Weekly, puts me in mind of an Eastern legend which I heard a short time ago about their origin. When Hagar ran away to escape the wrath of Abram's wife, so the story goes, Sara vowed that if her handmaid ever returned "she would cause her to be mutilated, thinking thus to destroy her b:auty and prevent her causing any further domestic infelicity. Time, however, had the effect of so cooling Sara's wrath that when Hftgar came back and pleaded with her she decided to forego her vangcance and restore her ex-handmaid to favor. Bat an oath was not a thing to be trifled with, and as Sara had solemnly vowed to mutilate Hagar she was in a quandary to know how to do this without fnjuring her or marring her fair face. Finally she hit upon the expedient of piercinsr a small hole in each of Hag.ir's ears, ana it is said that Abram, to oiset the pretty handmaid's punishment, presented her with two beautiful jewels to suspend from the holes. Her appearance thus adorned so excited the admiration of the other women of the tribe that the wearing of earrings soon became general amuug uiciu. * A Man-Milliner Discnsses Ladies. Mr. Worth, the celebrated man-milliner of Paris, recently lemarked to a reporter: "I find that every country produces beautiful faices, graceful figures, lovely dispositions, as well as their contraries. J suppose Russian ladies are the greatest dancers in the world; English women are justly proud ot their perfect complexions; the French lead the world in real elegance, and the American ladies impress me by the easy way in which they wear gorgeous gowns. Nothing overwhelms them. You ask me if fabulous sums arc sometimes paid for dresses. It is quite impossible to matce any estimates as to that. If you begin putting on gold thread, jewels, etc., of course there is no limit to the cost. Some years ago, a Peruvian heiress paid us one hundred and twenty thousand francs for a single gown?one hundred and eighteen thousand francs being the cost of the laces alone. Keccntiy, we sold a cloak for forty-five thousand francs, of which forty-four thousand francs went for the fur. We count among our patrons the ladies of all the courts in the civili7ed world, that is all, with a single exception. Queen Victoria has never honored us with her patronage. The other day, a telegram came from the Empress of Russia: .'Send me a dinner dress.' Nothing more. We are left absolute freedom as to style and material. Not that the Empress is indifferent in the matter of dress, quite 'the contrary. She will sometimes require that all the ladies' costumes, at a certain ball, shall be pink, or red, or ,b!ue. And her own toilets are always "masterpieces of elegance. The point is that she trusts our judgment rather than her own."?Argonaut. An American Girl's Invention. In a remote but decent part of Boston has lived for about fifteen years an English family of rather unique interest. The father served in the Civil War, and, being a partial invalid in consequence, receives a small pension, which docs not go far towards supporting tbe family,and he can do little besides draw his pension and suffer his constant pain. The mother is a small woman, with large brown eyes and pale checks. She has a toilsome life, indeed, and has done all sorts of work to try and ckc out rne muiuj 6U|jjwh. * daughters, the elder somewhat noted in her neighborhood a'j a beauty, and a small boy mnke up the balance of the household. Although desperately poor, the family have been as proud as Lucifer anrl seemed bound to accept no more charity than was absolutely unavoid-1 able, though there are plenty of i well-to-do people around them who would gladly have contributed in their aid, as every member of the family commanded respect. The; have come to be known even outside their narrow circle from their constant efforts to better themselves, trying now this thing and now that. Everything failed until a short time ago; but at last the family has struck something that will give them ease and comfort if not comparative wealth. The handsome daughter is credited with the discovery, which is simply a new method of treating photographs in reproduction. Her name has been given to it, and her work is getting more and more circulation e ery day with, of course, an increased flow of dollars to the family treasury. She has cnr>tiroH a rtnianf nn Viap nrnPAM. All thfl photographers are puzzled by the work and would like to have it for use in their business, as they see that this girl is getting as many orders as she can fill at the food price of $3 for each cabinet reprouetion. The pictures are the same size as the original cabinet photographs, but softer and more pleasing in tone, and are mounted under thick plate gla?s with beveled edges. How she makes her copies nobody has been able to find out as yet, but in the slang of the day her work "goes."?Springfield Republican. A Chase After * Baby. - A certain Bath sea Captain entering the port of New York telegraphed his wife at Bath to join him at the metropolis, prepared for a sea voyage. Accordingly a day or two after the arrival of the message saw the wife embarked upon a through train from Bath to Boston accompanied by an infant child scarcely two years old. This car was shunted to the end of the Portland train at Brunswick, and leaving the child asleep upon a seat in a car, the Captain's wife seized the opportunity to nil tne baby's bottle with milk in the depot restaurant. * 44 There is many a slip between the cup and the lip," and why not the bottle? While the mother was intent upon her errand the train slipped qu'etly out of the station, and when the mother emerged from the restaurant door it was fast disappearing under Spring street ifAfTiuna nan Kncf imanrmp thp. UI luge, lUUtUUI O U?u WVSJK nui*g.uv ...? distress of this anxious mother. Eagerly she explained the situation to the sympathizing group of railroad men who gathered around. Baby and purse containing all her money and ticket were in the fast disappearing train. A hurried council followed and a plan was instantly formed. Old No. 23, "the' Brunswick," was side-tracked, waiting the passage <*f the train just cone. Fortunately her nose was pointed up river. Uner Thompson (I give the name as it was spoken in the narrative), the station * 1 baggage master at tne lime, ran liaauuy to the engine and askei her aid to overtake the lying train. The genial Charles Evans, ever ready to aid the cause of any female in distress, volunteered to catch the robber. Hastily filling the firebox' with wood from the tender, whilej Thompson was assisting the woman to' mount the engiiie, with a hasty command to the switchman to "give us the Maine line," with hand upon the throttle No. 23 flew quickly over the switche and commenced her run. A n emntv nncn'nfi rhfuinc a heavv train up 4'0a(c Hill grade," which extends four miles straight away from Brunswick, naturally has an easy task, and before they had covered more than half of that distance thej couid see ahead tho object of their pursuit. Having then the train in view did our hero pull her wide open and sail in. Now, he nears the train! To sound his whutle calling the* attention of the* train men to the chase and thereby stop the train, wasnotpart of his programme, fearing that he might run over them should they suddenly stop. 80 quietly running aloug, the roarof the train deadening the pursuit, he is soon immediately behind them. Then his tender?for they are running backward, understand?rubs against the rear platforn of the train, and while the engineer holds her there, '',1 ? ? iU? mAiman AVOI> f hfl inompsou U.VJ131B iud nuuinu VTW1 mw tender, down upon the platform of the car containing the baby, still f&st asleep, the mother clasping tightly the bottle of milk which coqt such effort and anxiety. ?Lew'iston {Me.) Journal. m Fashion Notes. Black lace over dresses will be as popular as ever. Lace dresses are appropriate for any kind of a dress affair. Shirt fronts or blouse vests are a feature of many of the new basques. Tinsel runs through all the new trimmings, of whatever description. School ulsters for little girls are made of rough plaid cheviot with coachman's capcs. Silk gloves are promised witn Kid tips to the fingers. They will be durable, if not beaatiful. The newest polonaises are very long and fully draped, the entire effect being that of slenderness. Silver hairpins and combs are in high favor, and an endless variety of fancy designs is applied to them. Chantilly lace is a texture of great beauty, moderately durable, and will be worn this season by young and married ladies. _ T? m'KKaho an/1 oil Ira fVllfl J 11 LUC iCUlill U1 iiwvuo uuv? wnuw ?m.w is ft season of demi-tints; nearly every shade or color is used in connection with another. Narrow gold braid is frequently sewn into the necks and cuffs of gowns, instead of colored silk, canvas, or cuffs and collars. Very dainty are the elegant little bonnets of cream lace straw, of white Neapolitan braid interwoven with white beaas here and there. Ostrich feathers, particularly in ombro effects, aro very popular, as are also flowers. The mo3t nqtural and truly artistic in flowers, are the Art Roses. A basque as new as it is ugly has round points front and back, unrelieved by either postillion pleat or opening, is bound to the last extremity, and reaches nothing at the hips. With a lace slip of black, another of white, and silk petticoats of different colors, the economical dresser can outdo the chameleon in the matter of change, at a very trifling expense. xv>iito vpate rontiniiA to be the raore. Now white serge in tucks or boxpleats is all the wear, but we are threatened with white pique ones, stiffer than coats of mail, for wear with wash gowns. The latest novelty in summer silks is the embroidered China silks, not h?ndwrought by the patient Chinese, but machine embroidered in the looms of France, in charming and varied designs colors, and effects. 011? 1?ofa nrn vonr J 1 110 lUr^C poiUtgo^uv uuiki u? v fv?j fashionable in wide coarse straws. In small shapes there are those with wide turned up sides, and round shapes, the back turned un against the crown. The new sailor shape is also very popular. Copper in all shades grows more and more the rage, and is combined in stripes, [ chocks and borderings, with white, I black, suede, tan and various brown shades, while the mixtures of its own tones are aa numerous as they arc indescribable. FINGER RINGS. ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF THESE MYSTIC CIRCLES. Carious Superstitions Connected With Them in Ancient Days? Rings of the ^Elizabethan Era?Engagemnt Rings. Ring-lore is a curious subject, says the New York World, and leads one into all sorts of historical highways and by-ways searching for information. In former times, according to an old writer, it was esteemed highly improper for single or unmarried persons to wear rings, "unless they were judges, doctors or Senators." For all but these dignitaries snch an unwarranted ornament was considered an evidence of "vanity and pride," and was looked upon as a great piece of presumption on tne part of the wea*er. Another authority dwells upon the fact of affianced persons being allowed this honorable decoration, and cites it as an evidence of the high honor in which the estate of wedlock was then held, that those about to enter it might be so adorned. But while finger rings have figured conspicuously in the political, court and ecclcsiastical history of all times, it is their record as love tokens and marriage emblems wnicn lenas cue greatest interest to these pretty or priceless (a* the case may be) baubles of mankind. Traditions tells that the first of these mystic circles was invented by Prometheus and forged by Tubal Cain. An Arabian legend relates how King Solomon possessed a made ring that he once upon a time dropped inadvertently into the sea, whereupon his wisdom immediately abated, so that for forty days he abstained from administering justice. At the end of that time the missing jewel was found in a fish and restored to the monarch, who straightway became once more exceeding wise, and continued so until the end of his days. The history of ring superstitions is notably rich. In moat cases, where they were supposed to possess especial significance ana virtue, these qualities abided in some particular stone, or symbol, or inscription. But "charm rings" were fabricated in various ways and of different substances, which were believed to establish their ellicacy. In Berkshire, England, there was a popular superstition that a ring made of a piece of communion silver wa3 a sure cure for fits and convulsions. The same diseases were also cured by a ring formed of five silver sixpences, collected from as many bacnelors, who must have been kept in ignorance of the rmrpose, for which the contribution was levied, else its efficacy would be destroyed. Rings fashioned from coffin hinges were looked upon as a specific for cramps. And so on, through a long list of ills and illusions, the ring has constantly been put forward as a remedy or preventative. The "jimmal ring" was originally a love-token merely. Herrick writes of it: Thou sendest to me a true-love knot, but I Returned a ring of jimmals to imply Thy love had one knot, mine a triple tye. Later this became the ring of the espousal and was intended to typify com mumty Oi lmerusi, uiuituui iuiucaiaiiv/c, endless devotion, and all tho other attributes of the estate of matrimony in its most ideal perfection. The orthography changed slightly also, and it was written with a (4. One of these gitnmal rings, supposed to belong to the time of Queen Elizabeth, was found at Horsleydown, in Surrey, England. It is preserved in the British Museum collection, and it has been described as follows: 'The ring is formed of twin, or double hoopSj which play within one another like the links of a chain. Eeach hoop has one of its sides flat, the other convex, and each is twisted once around, and surmounted by a hand issuing from an embossed fancy-work wrist or sleeve, rising somewhat above the circle ana extenaingin the same direction. The course of the twist in each hoop is made to correspond with that of its counterpart, sothat on bringing together the flat surfaces of the hoops they immediately unite in one ring. On that hand of which the palm is uppermost is represents a heart, ana as the hoops close the hands slide into contact. The whole device thus represents a triple emblem of love, fidelily and union?the whole being of fine gold and weighing two pennyweights." In mairiage, according to the ancient ritual, the husband began the ring business by placing it upon the bride's thumb and putting it successfully upon the next two tingere, pronouncing ior eacu one a person of the Trinity, until, with the hnal "AmeD," the fourth finger was reached, and there the wedding ring was suffered to remain. The Greek Church ritual directs that the ring be placed upon the right hand. Among the Anglo-Saxons a ring blessed : by the priest was given to a maid at her betrothal, and she wore the same upon her right hand until her marriage, when it was removed by the bridegroom; again blessed by the priest and then Elaced on the first finger of her left and. There is au old belief dating back to ancient Rome that a small artery runs from the third (or fourth counting the thumb) finger of the woman's left hand directly to the heart. Modern anato- j mists have exploded this sentimental hut it fnrmerlv obtained the widest credence, so much so that in eases of. sudden seizure, or 4 Wound," restoratives were applied to this finger in the j belief that its direct communication; with the heart would convey the healing influence more quickly to the seat of ( life. Also old physicians mixed their I potions and medicaments with this fin-, ger because, as an old chronicle affirms, | "no venom can stick upon the outmost j part of it, but it will otfend a man and ' communicate itself to his heart." i Founded upon this belief was the custom j of wearing the wedding ring upon that: fing?.r. Other reason? have been assigned ; for so doing, but this is, without doubt, the primary one. The fashion of betrothal, or, as we phrase it nowadays, "engagement," rings J varies from time to time, and always depends, or should do so, upon the purse of the donor. Where there are no limita- { tions of this sort his taste, if it be perfect, will lead him to choose a diamond solitaire, and of the finest he can afford, j a small and pure stone being altogether i preferable to a big "rock*' of doubtful color. Some prefer a ring set with three J stones, generally a sapphire set between: two diamonds, uttoers eciect a ruuy or ( an emerald, which signifies a promise of : happiness. A few choose pearls, but there is a prejudice against these jewels, as they are aupposea to typify tears. They are also too perishable to become emblems of love which, in its first glow at least, is always understood to be indestructible. Their beauty is very precarious, being easily dimmed or <4aged,M ; as the lapidary phrases it, by qontact j with impure air, while acid annihilates them completely, like the famous one j which the fair Egyptian, "brilliant sor-! --r* ceress of the Nile," dissol red and drank to her imperial lover ages ago. Onlj the wedding ring remains nearly - \i, the same through all time. The Roman* made theirs of iron toexpress endurance, and baser metals hare been used for this purpose from time to time since; but the ideal marriage token, exquisiteiy described by an early English poet, has not and cannot be improved upon?it is the ring of purest virgin gold, neither toe heavy nor yet too slender. It is softly rounded over, so that there are no sharp edges, and if you suspend it by * silken thread (as the child on the hedrthrug has done with her trinkets) and smite !v it softly it wiH ring out ah indescribably sweet sound which no other metal gives forth. If you haven't heard this fairylike music try the experiment, and having once heard the true ring of the true metal, you will sever forget its sweetness afterward, and you will realize that no other token is so fitly symbolic of a true heart's devotion; while for the " poise " of the ring, no words are more appropriate than Herrick's lines already alluded to: And as this round Is nowhere found To flaw, or else to sever, So let our love - - As endless prove, And pore as gold forever. mm The Art of Shoe Manufacture. "Shoes are an important product, in- * . deed," said the proprietor of a large boot and ehoe factory in New York city. The gentleman was quite willing to give a Telegram reporter points and went on to do so. When the skin of a calf after coming from the tan yard is to be prepared for shoes for men it is split by machinery into three sheets. The outer division, which is where the hair gresv, is technically called the "buif," the middle part is called the "split," and the part nest ' i: the skin the "flesh split" or "veal calf."! Of these three the veal calf or flesh split is the most valuable. The next in point! of value is the buff, and the centre sheet. or sjilit is the worst leather that' can be' put lhio a boot or shoe. It is more porous and not so durable as the other di-' visions, but when a shoe is ready lor the . ^ market it takes an expert to tell which' of the three grades of leather it hat been made from. Horse hide and cow hide are treated in the same way, the divisions being k^own' OJ me same uaiues biiu u??iu" mu oauiu relative values. This is for the uppers, which arc supplied to the manufacturers by men who make a specialty of preparing them. The sole leather is delivered to the manufacturer in lumps &nd he * cuts it himself. The uppers are first given by the manufacturer to a team of lasters, who shape it into the form of the foot. The lasters r^ake from $2.50 to $3 a day, the lasting being usually done ^ by men, as it takes strong fingers to pull -J V the leather tightly over the "last," or, woodea model of a foot on which it is shaped- _ Then the boots go to anothersquad of men, who sew on the buttons by machinery, and then to the heelers, who *?n| attach'the heel*, also by machinery. The heelers generally make from |3 to $3.50 a day, according to the quantity and mialitv Af wnrkth?v turn nnf_Thfl finish- 'P? era next take the shoes in hand and produce the glossiness on the sides of the sole known as burnishing, bj a machine for the purpose. At this stage the shoe ' or boot would not be fit to wear. It ia of a dirty yellow color and so porous that water would soak through it almost -Z like a sponge. The final and mostim- '*? port ant process has to be gone through, which is the polishing, by means -of -J8a which the pores are filled up, rendering it waterproof, or to a certain extent waterproof, and giving it a more sightly appearance. Good polishers are few, as an instinctive faculty for the business seems to be required. Good workmen mafce .rrom ft to $5 a day, according to the grade of the shoe. The main ingredients of the polish are beeswax and lampblack, but nearly every workman has his own. formula for preparing it and keeps it a secret. There are also many hundreds of women employed in the shoe factories , who do such work as making buttonholes, at which they can make *5 or $6, and sometimes $7 a week, if they can run the machinery very rapidly. The same processes of manufacture are applied to women's boots that are applied to men's. Clay and Other Pipes. v;^ "I doat know as I ought to tell you about it," said a well-known New York dealer to a Sun reporter, "but it is a fact that the soft white clay pipe,which costs only a penny, is the healthiest and cleanest of all the pipes now iu use. Of course, the meerschaum is very good when it is :v new, but it becomes unhealthy the older it gets, consequently it is not tit to smoke after it has been used six months, if you have any regard for your mouth. All pipes absorb, more or less, the nicotine,! which is a poisonous juice, and when the pipe becomes full it unsuspectingly finds its way to the mouth and stomach. I " T am acquainted with several persons who,' having used the same pipe tor a number of years, have finally, become seriously - -* -I ?ill nn poisoned. rue ciay pipe .wm was. twice as much nicotine as the meer- > schaum, consequently they should not be used more than a dozen times, especially when the tobacco is of a greenish color or at all damp. Now, in s regard to wooden pipes, they ought never to be smoked more than two months, and: in many cases not more than one month ^ but this is according to the strength of the tobacco people use in them. After the white clay pipe comes the meerschaum; then, third,comes the hard earthen pipe; fourth, comes the wooden pipe, then the porcelain pipe, and last, and the worst, the metallic pipe. The dealer was asked. "Do many persons use cigar holders?" . "That fashion." the dealer replied, "is gradually goiDg out of style. I T ** vAiinrr nr VPHT 1 notice It 13 timri IU mj old men that cigar or cigarette holders are now sold. They are not very odoriferous or handy to tuck away in the pocket, and generally they are too expensive to throw away after using them only once." Clot Ahead of the Law by Saicide. Fred. A. Markley, farmer, of Virginia township, Ohio, commuted suicide under peculiar circumstances. His father left him u life interest in the home farm, and at his death it was to go to his heirs. In the meantime he became involved in debt and his creditors asked the Common Pleas Court to issue an order to sell his life interest, which was granted, the creditors buying said life interest, and thev in turn reatin# the farm to other parties. Markley would not vacate willingly, and stated on several occasions that he would commit suicide before he would permit his wife and children to be ejected. The Sheriff went to eject him, and Markley went to the barn, stating that he would get tte horses and wagons to load the furniture. Fifteen minutes later the oldest son followed him and found him dead. He successfully defeated his creditors and left his heirs in (bar possession.?Cleveland Leader. * ^ y