Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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THE LOVEBfT QUAERE L. BT JEPTES PORBUSH-HANAFOaD. I him back his letters, The locket, his picture, and ring; We qn&rreled, ana this was the ending, 80 I kept not a single thing. Oh 1 yes; I did koep the rose-b^d He iastened that night in my hair, Then told jue how fondly he loved me, And called me his "darling, go lair." 1 really did think that he loved me, And thought him so manly and true, And now we have parted in anger, I wouldn't believe it. would you? I hope you don't think I feel badly; You're mistaken; indeed, I don't care; It wasn't my fault that we quarrelod; I wouldn't have been such a bear. Us his placo to ask for forgiveness, Bo I'll flirt just as much as I can, And then I won't speak if I meet him? That's such an excellent plan. But hark 1 there's his ring at the door-bell; Yes, 'tis his 6top on the floor: I never knew how much I loved him? "Wait, darling, I'll open the door I" THE JEWELED HAIRPIN; The Strange Tragedy of the Grand Hotel, ' ~i: , BY ARTHUR GRIFFITHS. CHAPTER X. ijfci, A TERRIFIED CHAMBERMAID. fHAD just finished dressing, one Snnday morning, in my bedroom npon the first flooi of the Grand Hotel, Bythesea, wben I "was startled by a loud 6croam in the passage. It was followed by another and another. I found on going to my door, that they proceeded from an afrighted chambermaid, who was shrieking as she ran wildly down the corridor. Sounds so unusual und so disturbing caused, not strangely, a great commotion. The other occupanta of the rooms on the same floor came out, ladies with the rest, in Various phases of dressing, some in com-r . i-ll. T ?~ 4 ? fueie aesnftDUIO. ? cuiuu uui iicijj .Vtnarkiiig one girl in particular, a dark branette, whom I had noticed for some time past and greatly admired. Her pale, ;< ' Olive-tinted cheeks, diffused with a fine color, her large brown eyes wide open ' liith terror, her magnificent raven hair banging loose over a pale bine peignoir, whioh.betrayed, ratber than concealed, her tail but exquisitely molded figure, presented a vision of such rare and raviBhing boauty that for a moment I paused spellbonnd. But the noise and commotion now increased, and I pushed forward to learn tts cause, just as a second female face, older, but with a strong family reBemblanoe, appeared behind that already described, and I heard the words, "What la it, Clara? Tell me?quick 1" as I passed on. By this time the disturbance had become general. A crowd?visitors like my-?elf, porters, waiters, other chamberfeoaids surrounding the one who had been shrieking, and who seemed on the verge Of hysterics, and all were asking her what it meant. Her only answer was to point to the end i *V~ OT.I? noon ntlf >1 votorifftllV Vi bUU uuu w'" at intervals, "No. 99! No. 99!" Thither every one rashed in a body. The floor of the bedroom. No. 99, stood "open. Ve crowded in, and soon saw the cause of the chambermaid'^ screams. The body of a man lay there motionlees on the floor. He was on his back, in his clothes, and fully dressed, with f-.ce horribly drawn, and great, Btaring, wide-open eyes. "Is he dead?" asked someone, breathJe?sly. "Send for a doctor, quick!" cried an ther. "I am a medical man," said a third, pushing forward through the crowd of DjBtannera. auuw ujo. The doctor placed his hand upon the heart, turned down an eyelid ana looked Into the face of the prostrate man. "He is dead, quite dead, stone cold, iD fact. Life must have been extinct foi many hours." A^Who is he?" the Bame question rose tc many lips. "No. &9, the gentleman who had thii toom," answered one of the porters. "But what is his name? Didn't you know anything about him?" I asked. "No, sir; he only came in yesterday. They will know his name in the office, ol ourse. But up hero he's only No. 99." I was too well acquainted with th? modern hotel custom of sacrificing individuality to numerical convenience tc press my inquiry, and already another by. tander'had carried the discussion a stage further by asking the doctor: "What was the cause of death?" It was a question that had presented it* elf to mo6t of as. Bat the doctor did not answer. He was examining the corpse closely. Ther< was blood upon the carpet, dabs of black, clotted gore, that had oozed oat from under the body on the left side. "Strange," he muttered, ""most strange. Death must have been very sudden, instantaneous in fact; and"?he paused? "I fear, violent." As he spoke he turned the body over gently, on its face. "Not a doubt of it," he went on, as th6 movement disclosed a great pool of halfcongealed blood. Blood dripped anc drabbled now from the back of the corpse and made great splashes upon the carpet. "There has been foul play; this man has died a violent death." "Murdered?" asked several voices, all agitated and horror-stricken. - "Murdered," leplied the doctor, decidedly. "Come, sir, be careful; you must not ay that," cried a fresh voice, peremptorily. It was the manager, who had been summoned from his office on the ground floor. A sharp-speaking, bustling person, tall, erect, authoritative, with o oldierly air, but a not too intelligent face. "A murder?" he went on. "Here In the Grand Hotel? Impossible!" "There is evidence enough. See foi yourself," said the doctor, shortly. Here is the wound. The knife has left Ub mark." The manager stooped to look at the eorp?e, after which he could no longer dispute the doctor's statement. "A murder in the Grand Hotel!" he muttered between his teeth; "most unfortunute!" He was thinking first of all of its effect upon business; but more humane considerations came to him, and he added: "A most deplorable affair." "There was no robbery in this case," Baid the doctor, whose eye had been traveling round the room. "At least the murderer was no common thief." "How? What do you mean?" " There, on the dressing-table, lies the lead man's watch " "It would have been dangerous to take that. It might lead to identification." "But there is money, loose gold and ilver. lying near it. A thief would nevei liave left the cash had robbery alone been 4he motive cf the crime." The manager again interposed. "Who is the poor gentleman?" he went on, addressing himself first to the porteri and servants who stood near. To them, as I had already ascertained lie was only "No. 99." "One of you run to the pipe and whistli , <Iowii to ine oureau for nis name,'* said the mannger. "But perhaps 6ome oi you gentlemen knew him?" now speaking to the whole roomful - a dozen of ue at least. There was a dead tilence. We looked at each other Llnnklv and inierrocativelv. buf no one bad", or wo'uuT acknowledge", any acquaintance with the deceased. Then the servant returned to say that the dead man was entered in the books as Joseph Coo.h. He had arrived on the day previous alone; apparently he had no friends or beloneings in the hotel. The corpse was that of a stalwart, seeminglj athletic man, in the prime of life, with e dark, very dark, handsome face. The clothes were of ordinary cut and appear* ance, but with something that suggested the seafaring man. "His portmanteau?I see he had a small one?his papers, and his things generally, mu6t be taken care of," I said. "Some one will, no doubt, turn up to claim them." i "Of course, of course," said the man^ agerfThe 'ponce wrii see to mat. a most unfortunate affair," he repeated, recur, ring to his fir6t and chief trouble, "tc happen now, just at our very busiest time. I only trust it will net empty the hotel/ He was paid a percentage on the business done,* and was thus intimately concerned in the return of the season. "No one will much like to remain," began one of the visitors. "Don't Bay that, Mr. Sarsfield. You must not desert us at such a moment a? this." "I meant remain on this floor. Oui room i6 close here, and my wife will be terribly put out when she hears what haa happened. The screams frightened hei dreadfully. Both she and her sister ars inclined to be rather nervous, you know.' "I will change your room at once, Mr, Sarsfield, if you wish," said the manage] eagerly. "I think,.perhaps, it would be just a! well not to tell tbe ladies the whole truth; at least, not just as yet," said a ne\t speaker, an intimate friend, as I knew, oi the Sarsfields. I had 6een him continu. ally with them. "You are right, Fawcett, quite right,' replied Mr. Sarsneld, gratefully; "thej must not know." I was locking at him as he spoke, and fancied I saw his faoe darken and grow gomewhat 6omber. It waB a face habitnally grave, almost stern, with rathei sad, pale eyes, preoccupied and thoughtful in expression. His thin lips were drawn down at the ends, and the lines on his forehead indicated that he must have known anxiety?great trouble, perhapB? in his time. A man already past the middle age, with his hair turning to silver, but Btill upright in carriage and of vigorous frame. His friend whom he addressed as Faw*' i- it. r .j i ceu was a man suu in iue prime ux me, but looking probably much yonnger than bis real age. He was slightly-built and had a well-preserved figure, a good-looking face, with which time had dealt lightly, and the fair anbnrn hair that seldom turns gray nutil late in life. With his smiling lips and elaborately polite manner, he seemed anxious to please all, ladies especially, aid with this idea, no doubt, paid scrupulous attention to his personal appearance, from the perfectly fitting boots to the large points of his carefully waxed mustachios. Upon me, I must confess, the impression he had made had been far from favorable. I did not like the look in hiB eyes, which, indeed,' prejudiced me the more against him, besides they were of different colors?one hazel-brown, the other violet-blue. I thought their expression false and the man altogether unpleasing, But then I was half jealous of the fellow. He was far too well established in tba good graces of the young i&ay in me Dine peignoir wiiom i navo already mentioned, with the frank confession that I admired her, although I scarcely knew her. It was of the young lady, MisB Clara Bertram, and her sister, Mrs. Sarsfield, that they were speaking. "Perhaps I ought to go and reassure them," continued Mr. Sarsfield. "Shall I go with you? As far as the door, I mean. I could escort them down stairs away from all this." suggested Captain Fawcett. "No, no; I had better go alone. My wife might suspect something." Ana saying this Mr. Sarsfield pushed his way out. I was near the entrance to No. 99 myself, and I saw that as he reached the passage he was barely in time to prevent the ladies from joining the rest of us in the death chamber. They were at the door. One, Mrs. Sars UOiU, UiCDOOU AUi iliW 4UV?M*M(3, ? "**w, handsome woman, with deep, dark eyes and a grand figure. The other, my beauty, still in her blue peignoir, but she had hastily twisted up the rich coils of her lustrous hair into a great loose knot, from which huDg a black lace mantilla down to her shoulders. "You here, Anna?" he cried, in a voice in which there was more of vexation than surprise, "and your Bister? This is no place for you," "We came to see for ourselves. There was so much excitement; the screams, the noiso in the passage " began Mrs. Sarsfield. "What has happened?" interrupted her sister, with almost wild ea^ernesB. Her magnificent eyes were still dilated, no doubt \rith.nervous hvsterical fear.. a gentTemau nas Been rouna aeaa'tti his room," said Mr. Sarsfield, with as much nonchalance as it was possiblo to employ in conveying the painful fact. "Dead! In which room?" asked Clara, quicklv. "No. 99." She seemed to have anticipated the answer, for already she had drawn the folds klrtnl. 1.1. w, ? ? ? C 1 1 .... V, ux iuo wiuva iuto aiuuttiia u>dx j-icjl i.a^c, and stooped, with a quick gesture of drend. as though expecting a blow. "Dead!" repeated Mrs. Sarsfield. "How? When? Who is he? What did he die of?" Her answer came from Captain F\wcett, who by this time had slipped up and 6tood by her side. He whispered just one word inio her ear, the meaning of which I gathered from *te horrified 6tart she gave. "Murde !" She had no time to frame the whole word, for her husband had seized her by the arm and was dragging her away. "I tell you this is no place for you, Anna. See, Clara is half fainting." Even as he spoke the girl's faco grew ghastly white, and her tall, slight frame swayed to and fit), as though but for bis arm she would have fallen to the ground. "Come away, come awav," said Mrs< Sarsfield, hoarsely. It >as clear, too, that she was over, come with the horror of the scene. Snatching at the am that Captain Faw. cett offered her. she retreated along passage, while her husband followed, half leading, half supporting his nearly unconscious sister-in-law. I returned to No. 99, where the manager was the center of a group of people, still busily and excitedly discussing the uurionB catastrophe. "There is nothing to be afraid of," ha was saying, in answer, no doubt, to alarms more or less openly expressed by others than the Sarsfields. "You say that very coolly, yet we maj all be murdered in our beds to-night, like this poor fellow," protested one of the visitors. "At nny rate he was not in his bed," replied the manager. "You will observe he had not undressed. He had not even laid down on the bed. See, it is quite smooth and tidy. No one has touched it, far less tleDt in it." "lie must have been attacked directly he came upstairs," I said, following out a line of thought of my own. "Quite early in the night, I mean." "How do yon know that, Mr. Leslie?'asked the manager, turning on me r *ther brusquely. "There is nothing to indicate that such was the case." "It is more than probable, nevertheless,'" interposed the doctor. "Death must have occurred nine or ten hours ago; of tiiat I have neverhad the smallest doubt." "That would take ns back to 11 or 12 o'clock last night," said the manager. and with visible imnatience be went Cb?"wben"numTierB of people were Btill U'j and about. The idea of a murderous affray occurring at such a time and without the slightest noise or notice to a scml?it's too preposterous!" "Thtre was no nifray," I replied. "The doctor tells us death was instantaneous. Besides, what was to prevent the murI derer from waiting here in secret, hiding till his victim came to bed?" "Whore could he have come from?" asked the manager, teBtily. " Anvwliere: from the next room: down 6tairs. It is perfectly possible. Anybody can come and go here as be pleases?inside the hotel, you understand?at all hours of the night." "That would imply that you* think the murderer was one of the lodgers in t^? hotel," a" newcomer said, addressing'Eimself directly to me. "What! you here, Hasnip?" began the manager. ""Has the chief " But the other, a sharp-eyed, elderly man, with a hard, impassive face, fringed with sandy hair, made an almost imperceptible gesture, and the manager held his tongue. It was, as I afterward learned, Mr. Hasnip, the smartest of the detectives belonging to the Bythesea police force. "All the probabilities are that the murderer was, probably is, an inmate of the hotel," I replied in a firm tone, more and more enamored of my own theory. "What right have you to come to such a conclusion?" asked the manager, turning upon me. "It is an accusation, an unfair, and, 1 feel, unjustifiable accusation against all of us," said another voice, rather hotly. The champion of the visitors at the hotel was no other than Captain Fawcett. "I am included in the accusation, then, as I am staying here myself," I replied, quietly. "But I base my conclusions"? this was said to the manager, and not to the irascible Captain Fawcett?"upon the simple fact that no one from outside could easily introduce himself into the hotel at & late hour?not without attracting attention, I mean." "Well, there is the fire-escape," said Captain Fawcett, fighting fiard for hig Dwn views, which Beemed intended mainly to exonerate ajl who had occupied the hotel. "Ahal" The interjection was uttered softly by the detective, who immediately left the room. "Ib there anything to show that the fire-escape has been used?" asked the doctor, and the question had the effect of emptying the room. [TO BE COKTiyPED.l Tito Old-Time Love Letters. In an old book, dated 1820, there is, say8 the People's Companion, the following very curious love epistle. It affords an admirable plav upon word9: "Madame?Most worthy of admiration. After long consideration and much meditation on the great reputation you possess in the nation, I have a strong inclination to become your relation. On your approbation of the declaration, I shall make preparation to remove my situation to a more convenient station, to profess my admira tion, and if such oblation is worthy of observation and can obtain commiseration it will be an aggrandization beyond all calculation of the joy and exaltation of yours, "Sans Dissimulation." The following is the still more curious answer: "Sir?I perused your oration with much deliberation at the great infatuation of your imagination to such veneration on so slight a foundation. But after examination and much serious contemplation I supposed your animation was the fruit of recreation or had sprung from ostentation to display your education by an odd enumeration* or rather multiplication, of words of the same termination, though of great variation in each tespe^tive signification. Now, without disputation, your laborious application in so tedious an UOV'lipilHULl uroci v co wmmciiunbiuuf and, thinking imitation a sufficient gratification, I am, without hesitation, yours, Mary Moderation." The Salt of the Earth. Salt in whitewash will make it stick better. Wash the mica of the stove doors with salt and vinegar. Brasswork can be kept beautifully bright by occasionally rubbing with salt and vinegar. Damp salt will remove the discoloration of cups and saucers caused by tea and careless washing. When broiling steak throw a little salt on the coals and the blaze from dripping fat will not annoy. To clean willow furniture use salt and water. Apply it with a nail brush, scrub well and dry thoroughly. Salt as a tooth pow der is better than almost anything that can be bought. It keeps the teeth brilliantly white ind the gums hard and rosy. Carpets may be greatly brightened by first sweeping thoroughly and then going over them with a clean cloth and clear salt and water. Use a cupful ol coarse salt to a large basin of water. If the feet are tender or painful after long standing or walking great relief can be had by bathing them in salt and water. A handful of salt to ? gallon of water is the right propor- | ton. Have the water as hot as can ] }*rf?rtably be borne. A few weeks ago the Rev. T. De 1 Witt Talmage preached at Green ; Mountain Falls, Colo., to a large and , enthusiastic crowd. Col. Bob Inger* | soil delivered a discourse the other | day at the same place. He was greeted by a small and scared audi- i encc. A cloudburst had just made i terrible havoc in the vicinity. His hearers half suspected the lecture had something to do with it, and seemed fearful some other convulsion of nature was hanging over them. The Colonel's hostility to the heavenly powers will be bitterer than ever henceforth. He will never forgive an apparent discrimination against himself and in favor of Talmage. Bomtj time since It was discovered that certain insurance oompanieB had added sun stroke to the causes of death, a list of which is printed in very small type in their policie-i, for which they will not be responsible. Now a oompany has placed asphyxiation in the same list. There is no reason for the exception of either ailment from the operation of the policies and it is simply a bit of sharp praotice which tile courts should rebuke at the first ( opportunity. I A iruiuous drunken Chicago brute , chased his wife up-stairs, brandishing , a hatchet, but she escaped him by . Jumping out of the second-story win- i dow. In court he stated that he was a victim of his wife's violent temper, ! and his fine was suspended on condi- J tion that he would behave himself, j The quality of mercy appears to havd , been badly strained in this case. ( THE FOE TEADE. ROMANCE AND ADVENTUR ARE ITS ACCOMPANIMENTS. Russia's Great Fur Mart?Whei Sealskins Come From?Preparing Skins for the Dresser? A Royal Fur. T.oawinrr nut nf swirmt r>"hnao on capture, the making and carrying to an fro of furs employ an army of stron men. It is a trade with history,romanci poetry and adventure in it. Statecrafl too, sometimes?witness the Behring Se dispute. Sealskins lay at the bottom o it?by no means the first time that ve vety integument has made trouble b< twixt neighbors. Everybody knows that fur founde the Astor fortune. Everybody may n< have known that very many pretty pet nies have been turned by traders in th great fur marts. At the chief of then Nijni Novgorod, not so long ago, oe daring trader cornered the market o Persian lamb, buying the Whole produc at something like fifteen cents the skit "Withic a year Astrakhan was the ragi 6ABLE. and the speculator sold out at about 20 per cent, profit. The fur takes nam from the province of Astrakhan, in whicl huge flocks of curly sheep are kep wholly for the sake of their skins Those of them that the furrier loves dii young?in fifteen minutes of birth. Theii skins come in huge bales to the weir( eastern city that is the largest entrepo on earth for such unsavory merchandise For there you get, too, sable, lynx otter, the rare blue and silver fox, Sibe rian wolf, not to mention dog and goa skins, for rugs. Both the last tw animals are bred extensively throughou Mantchooria. Indeed, dog ranching is i leading industry. A Mantchoo belle' -3 mono A r\rra on/1 ildlpa C>f thei UUWIJf AO av uauuj Vtv^w mh?* v. .... skins. Next to this source of supply come the Hudson Bay Company. Afterwarc the agencies scattered over the Wester: and Northern United 8tates. Thoug fur-bearing animals are plenty enough ii the South, their hair is not close and fin enough to give the skins commercis value. American furs come chiefly froc the near, otter, lynx, mink, beaver skunk and muskiat. Opossum and cooi skins are likewise native, but hardl, worth mention among leading sorts. The seal supply, as nil know, com mainly from the Pribylov Islands?th westernmost bit of earth flying the Star and Stripes. They are rocky,forbiddinj and storm beaten?fit for nothing undc heaven but the seal rookeries that aboum on them and have done time out of mind It was by following these herds of th BLUE FOX. sea that the good Dutch Admiral Pribj lov discovered them and made himself ; name in geography. He deserves a statu from women as the man who made sea sacques a possible possession. If America furnishes the raw materia you must go to London for the trim mings. The fresh skins, packed in salt all go there for finishing:. Whether ow lng to trade secrets jealously guarded c some peculiar quality of Thames watc no man can say, but the fact remain that sealskin London dyed is unapproach able for softness, gloss, good color am wearing quality. To secure all these is a work of tim and patience. The short, velvety pil is overgrown sparsely with long graj white hairs. They arc plucked out on by one with tweezers. Then the pre pared skin is stretched, fur side up, on clean board, and dye applied with brush evenly over its surface. Grea care is necessary to keep the colorinj matter from reaching the skin?it wouli rot and ruin it. Three coats are neede< to give the rich tone known as "sea brown," which is ss unlike as possible t the natural lightish brown gray. Afte the last coat is dry the skin passes to a especially skilled worker, who looks i all over; if there are bad spots, he cut them out and deftly sets in a good bit ii place of them, and finally decides whu manner of garment will best come out o it; also from what sections shall be cu particular parts. This matching fur, a: is called, is a nice operation. In all ani mals there is wide difference both o growth, thickness and color between th< middle part, which covers the backbone and the edges. Hence the wrong side o any fur garment looks pretty much like i war map, or the plot of a new suburbat town. The right must match to a hair and only thus can that result be broughi about. Nearly all sorts of skins go througfc the ssme process. Presumably thej come into the dressers' hands dry anc hard. The first thing is to ?oak their iu warmish water till they are as soft as the day they left their original occupants, Then they arc carefully fleshed with a blunt knife, the edires trimmed, and pul by dozens into a big drum that steaui keeps revolving at a lively rate. Sawlust is packed thickly over and through them as they go in. For common furs 3ak orpine will do. Fine one? get sawlust from cedar, mahogany, rosewood, ivalnut or boxwood. The last is so highpriced that it is reserved for sable and 5rmine. For ten hours or more the wheels go inerrily round, skins and sawdust churnng about inside. Next, as they come >ut each pelt is rubbed liberally on the lair side with rancia butter?the strong:r the better. After that it is pulled nanj times diagonally over a blunt knife fixed above the workman's head. This is to secure pliancy and an even grain. The final curing process is packing them in other revolving drums with ? flour, instead of sawdust, for another ! tea-hour dance. Here, too, sable and ermine assert their aristocratic sunrem e acy. Tliey arc given a bath of "cornstarch. Ermine edged the knight's robe, bordered the king's mantle and the queen's robe of state. For such purposes it was spotted with small black tails skillfully sewn in. Their number, as well as the ^ width of band allowable, was strictly a S matter for Court regulation. The wherefore ofthis flour bath is to remove superfluous grease. The finished !a skins are shaken or beaten free of it, and go on to those who cut and sew them. Theirs should be a well-paid occupaj tion, certainly it is a mighty uncomfortI able one. For summer is the season of ? it?and think of sewing seal capes and >fc bear boaa with the thermometer at l" ninety. The work requires a high dee gree of skill and is fairly lucrative. For long it was regarded as wholly the provie ince of the hand worker, but the ingen nuity of inventors could not rest till it :t had produced a fur-sewiD^ machine, _ A SEAL. 0 e much like that for sewing gloves, by tx help of whicb one girl might do the t work of three. t Here, as in most other callings, there a is room at the top. First-class work of r any sort is more than fairly paid. De1 signers, indeed, get wages that compare t more than favorably with more pretentious callings. Most of them are of foreign birth. But your fur cape, madam, was most likely grown and ,t dressed and cut and sewed in the United 0 States.?New York Recorder. t " From a Farm to a Peerage. h " s From a small farm on the North Dar kota praines to a fine old English estate and a seat in the house of lords is a long s etep, but James S. Sinclair, of Dakota, 1 Nelson County,North Dakota, has made a the stride. The Sinclairs were distantly h related to George Phillips Alexander, i Earl of Caithness, but so light was the e tie of kindship that no one in the family il expected to profit by it. James Sinclair a emigrated and purchased a tract of land , about four miles from Dakota, in that i State, stocked it and bent every energy y toward improving his little estate. He called the place "Berriedale," an old s family name and the title bestowed by e courtesy upon the elde3t son of the Earl s of Caithness. ? By a strange fatality all the people besr tween him and the title died. Either he i had been extremely careless or his friends [. and the family solicitor had an exceedinge ly contracted idea of the area of the - north-west, and the letters were simply addressed to ''James S. Sinclair, Berriedale Farm, near Dakota." One after another of the communications found its way to the dead letter office at Washington, and five months were spent by the department officials in discovering the right address of the man for whom the letters were intended. Tracers were sent out in every city and village in Minnesota, Nebraska and Dakota, and finally the lost heir was located.?New Orleans < Picayune. Thirty-four Stories Tall. This is a picture of the proposed tallest building in the world, which it is pro" posed to erect in Chicago. It is to be a the temple of the Illinois Odd Fellows e and an office building besides. The il * fllllP m,' . o I J III ' f plans call for thirty-fuur stories?twenty t in the main part of the building and s fourteen in the tower. It will be 556 - Jeet tall and 177 by 210 feet on the f ground. 3 ~ ' Married to Save His Fruit. f A rather unique and hasty wedding took place at Clinton, Wednesday, in i the office of the County Physician. W. i C. Cone, aged fifty years, a widower of : six months, a farmer and blacksmith, of Chalk Level. St. Clair County, applied 1 to the physician to know if he had any ' "wimmem" on the Poor Farm, and I stated that he wanted to marry, and 1 wanted to go with the Doctor to the 1 farm, which they did, and Cone selected Irene Southerland, aged thirty, who had 1 been to the asylum, but was returned to the Henry County Poor Farm as incurl able. She agreed to marry him aud was taken to town and they were legally married. Cone stated that he had lots of 1 fruit that needed taking care of, and he j got married this way because it was 1 quickest aud cheapest.? Carthage (Jto.) Democrat. The supply of gutta percha is being rapidly reduced and the French Government has undertaken to produce it in Algeria. i i Small farms are the order on the Island of Jersey, where many of them consist of i fiom ten to twenty acrea only. ?0MAN'S"W0EDP ' PLEASANT LITERATURE FOB FEMININE READERS. HOW TO DRESS TO BE HEALTHY. Dress, to be perfectly compatible with healthy life, should fit loosely, should be i light, warm and porous, should be ( adapted to the season as to color, should be throughout eeery part of the clothing, upper as well as under, frequently changed, and should be at all times scru- , pulously clean. The -wearing of clothes , until they are threadbare is an invariable | error in all that respects the health, to say nothing of the comfort of the wearer, i ?New York Herald. , < winter fur styles. "Natural skins will bo the style this winter," comes the statement from the furrier. "This is a decided change from ( last year, when the dysd pelts were most in favor. Shoulder capes will be extended and jackets will be worn longer. Eighteen to twenty-one inches in shoulder capes, thirty to thirty-two inches in jackets will be the leading lengths. The mink or American sable will still remain 1 the choicest fur. 'Everything' will have fur on it."?Boston Trarucript. victoria's walks. Queen Victoria, of England, now walks seven milea daily, in and about the , woods of Balmoral, having been told that this would prove the moat effectual cure for obesity and bring back complete ' health. She has a string of weary court ladies tramping in her train, and m mortal dread of the wind and waters, about 1 which Her Majesty is extremely callous, j When the draggled procession gets home after each walk the attending ladies are ] ready to faint.?New York Journal. , printed chiffon. , a oeauuiui novelty is pnntea cninon, ^ which is being shown by the leading im- ( portiDg and retail dry goods houses. The printed designs represent' rosebuds, vio- , lets and other pretty flowered effects in t their natural colors, scattered over a ( white ground1, and the same patterns are also shown printed on black chiffon. The goods are forty-five inches wide and are 1 inten led to be draped over silk founda- * tions, making very beautiful costumes. 8 Price per yard at retail from $1.75 to $2.50. For neck and sleeve trimming, t the design is printed on either edge of a the usual width goods, both white and f black, and to match the wider fabric just referred tt>, price eighty-five cents t per yard. The whole will make a beau- a tiful evening costume, and the trade j realized already indicates a good season An fViocn Koanflftil smr\r\ a TxrVnoVi mill ua vuvdv vvuuvuut guuug p vruiuu nut ? probably be closed out early.?New York a .Dry (?<*?& Chronicle. A QUEER WEDDING BOBS. j One of the oddities of English law j and a way to get around it is illustrated v by a case recorded of a bride appearing to be married in a church at White- ^ haven. As the story goes, when she had advanced a little way into the church the bridesmaid began to undress hei', until finally arrayed and adorned in only one undergarment she went to the altar and 0 was married to the man of her choice by the reverend clergyman. This queer 13 wedding is explained on the ground that F owing to an embarrassment in the husband's financial affairs it was deemed ad- li visable to do this in order that it should t< appear that with her he received no oth- n cr marriage portion than the garments- b she stood up in before the altar. By the old English law everything the bride k owned?houses, or lands, or money, or o jewels, or clothes?became the sole prop- h erty of the husband as soon as the words v were said that made them husband and wife. Hence this plan was devised to ^ cheat any creditors who had any hope c; of securing payment by levying on the _ apparel of the bride. She must have ^ been very anxious to get married when she would thus demean herself to marry a rascal and enter into such a scheme to cheat his creditors by securing her ward- ^ robe to her husband.?Pittiburg Dispatch. ' ? a WHY OLD LACES ART! VALUABLE. Many of our girls do not know why ^ old lace is so much more valuable and generally so much more beautiful than ^ new lace. 4'The fact is," says an authority, "that the valuable old lace is all woven in lost patterns. It is frequently as fine as a spider's film, and cannot be reproduced. The loss of pat- ? terns was a severe check to lace making f{ in France and Belgium, and was occasioned by the French Revolution. Before that time whole villages supported r< themselves by lace making, ana patterns were handed down from one generation to another. They were valuable heir- p looms, for the most celebrated weavers r< always had as muuy orders as they could t< execute in a lifetime, and they were n bounds by an oath, taken on the four b Gosples to work only for certain dealers, tl When the Reign of Terror began all work of this kind was interrupted for a time. K After the storm had subsided the dealers 7 and wokers were far apart?some dead, n: some lost, and some eseaped to foreign T lands, and such of tbe women as re- 0 xnained were bound by their oath to ti work for but one: and this oath, in T spite of Robespierre's doctrine, was held by the poorest of them to be binding, Q and there were instances were they suf- tj fered actual want rather than break their word. Some, however, taught their Q, children and their grandchildren, and t( many patterns were in this way preeerved. Some of the daintiest and finest patterns were never recovered, and to- ^ day specimens of these laces are known to be worth their weight in gold."?New York Herald. % L THE STREET TRAIN ORDERED IN. The trailing street dress is not goiug . to devastate the land. The indications | during the summer were that it might, 1 and there was much unhappiness in con- |. sequence. This was one of the most In- ^ comprehensible edicts of fashion that the mind of man had been disturbed with for some time, and his protest was loud ai against it from the outset. But man's ^ influence in this c;tse, as in others like it, tr "was not powerful, and the trailing street at dress threatened to sweep all before it, ai as it did everything behind it. The pul- **' pit thundered against the street train, . the press stepped on it, but it moved on 81 as if it were the admiration cf every eye. " Last week came the news from Paris that the abomination- would have to go, and of course this will be the end of it. n< Paiia gave us this fashion and Paris can to - -V." A-'. ' take It away. Blessed be the name of Paris! While the ladies were persistent m clinging to this bad habit in the face of a disapproving public sentiment, there are already indications that they will give it up more readily than any other fashJ ionable folly to which they have even been addicted. They never liked it, and many ladies, with great credit to them-J selves refused absolutely to yield to the! absurd decree. The majority of those) who did consent to drag this iashionablej ball and chain did it under protest. AJ woman's dainty tastes in the matter ot gowns revolted at the suggestion of 4 dress dragging over the filthy streets^ and she drops the train, as one may sayj with positive pleasure. If she cares foi| the approval of mere man in such matters,' she has it without reserve.?Chicago Ear* ild. FASHION NOTES. Jet passementeries are set with moon! stones. Tan colored grapes and oak leaves arf bunched together. s Black Japanese crepe fans are no* used for mourning. Eoas, muffs and toques are sow mad( of pheasants' plumage. Combined rain and traveling era* vanette cloaks are worn. Among the novelties are jet bonnet, with frames of chenille. Dandelion puffs mounted will) aigrettes are used as pompons. Collars and yokes of fine jet andtiittel cord are suitable for laca dresses. -L . Elegant lace patterns are decorated with designs worked in rhinestones. J When hats are trimmed only with rib* bon, a generous quantity should be em* ployed. ' , The Tudor cape in cloth or in velvety black or colored, is a orreat favorite with stylish, young women. An excellent stuff for elderly womel who do not care to pnt much money in t jown is corduroy in drab or gray,, pi :offee brown. , " I The Henri II. cloak, which is stOp favored of fashion, ia now made to matufl ;he gown and not, as formerly, of i iifferent material. Authorities say that the high collar will die with the year, and Januarj )ring us close ncck-bands, yokes ana traight shoulder pieces. ; Plain tips and plumes for hats axri >onnets do not seem to be much in favoj it present, an inclination being shown or ostrich feathers in fancy effect. New pinking-irons are manufactured hat work like a pair of nippers, doinjf ;way with the hammer and heavy block equired in using the old-style irons. ,| Pongee or mohair dusters have had heir day. I* you would bo swell btqj l $10 traveling gown and cover it with ?$100 traveling cloak of rich brocade. |. Transparent stuffs for evening wear? ace net, chinon, etc.?are often madi ligh in the neck, over a lace-lining, and nth unlined sleeves of the sheer staff, j An important chatelaine, adjunct vriting table composed of celluloid sff{* inclosed between silver covers embossed nd otherwise made to copy feather fans J A breadth of ruffled crinoline,innocent f steels, is worn under trained gowiut o keep them properly distended. This lay or may not foreshadow the hoop! letticoat. J Jackets of various sorts are very popu-' ir and continue to be of the three-quar-j era length, are close fitting and are ornaientcd with galons and fancy and tinsel! raiding. A novelty in dress goods is what is nown as the "unique." This consist* f only one dress length of any particu-' ir pattern or design and includes a ariety of styles. ;y The long veil is an accepted fact. In) lack, soft net, falling well below thej hin, it is not half bad. White veils are hastly,yet they grow and increase. The roman who dare3 even wears white Bgj res on a black ground. A pretty evening gown is of primrose engaline embroidered about the loot"of tie skirt and the corslet with cabohons of jet. The upper part of the odice, which is laced in the back, is oi aintily draped crepe de chine. ; All corded fabrics in wool promise to e more popular than ever. Bedford ord in delicate colors, with accessory rimmings of yelvet of a shade dark nough to contrast well, will be used fox isiting gowns during the coming season. According to present appearance^ baggy wool fabrics are likely to be prepared before fine cloths with faced surice. The detached eccentric pattern# iat were popular last year are generally jpcated in the vest and other decorations f the gown. ' " Pretty little mackintoshes are now pre] ared for children, being mostly in fawn,' ;d and black, and other checked ma*1 'rials. One of the prettiest models is iade of double woven cloth, the outside eing blue and the inside red. All oi :ese are coat-shaped, with capes. tj Bodices grow more and more fancifal. .'ing Solomon in his glory nor any of his 00 wives ever wore }ust such and so lany a$ you may see in the big shops.) he underfront has a full, soft vest, the verfronts are long and loose, the sleeves ght to the shoulder, where there is ? ery full puff. i Some of the youthful French dresses f cloth and Bedford cord button down le back and have sleeves set into the rm-hole with a puff made of a bias piece f the dress material or of silk, folded' >gether and gathered, the piece being uch wider in the middle than at the ids and standing up well on the shoulcrs. Very handsome is a tailor visiting own of dove-gray camel's hair, with a ouis XV. coat of gray velvet, decorated ith a frilling of rose-pink arrophane, le costume completed by a large picture at of softest gray felt crowned with )sc-tippeu gray feathers. The pretty :ccssories are a loog dove-gray maraout boa, and gray Suede gloves, with ioes of the same. Boas and high collars of ostrich feathers e to remain an adjunct of the toilet, he strings no longer come from the excme baciC of the hat, tilting it often at i unseemly angle with the hair. They e now placed well forward so that they old the hat on firmly. There arc some ltd which are genuine little bonnets, milar to the small bonnets worn before le introduction of toques. The new National Library building, )w in course of erection at Washing-1 m, will cost $6,000,000.