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V Beanchampe's Dooble THE PRIMA DONNiL 1 A Story of Mystery, Love and Devotion. ' i- . % ' t - - ? - -"'_ BY^ AVID^LOWR Y. CHAPTER Z. THE STXGEB. The tht-ater was crowded from th? parquette to the gallery with a critical audience. The opera was new, the prima donna was unknown to the audience, and it was the opening ziight of the new theater, *11 of which was commented on frequently afterward by those who witnessed the performance and the press. The manager was apprehensive, as he had good reason to be, when he realized the full significance of a remark one critic made concerning the chances in* volved In "a new theater, a new opera, and a new singer." The critic had witnessed many debuts, assisted at many openings, and damned many new operas. The first scene was tiresome. The audience manifested little interest, and maintained a haughty composure. The people looked about them, at each other, and at the appointments and ornamentation of the new theater. Friends recognized eacn other and nodded, while fans fluttered and beauties primped * In the second scene, a singer not wholly unknown to the greater portion of the audience came on; a pretty, graceful girl, with eyes like a gazelle, and a weet voice, but the audience contem>lated .her calmly. The women especialy wondered what the men saw in hex that entitled her to the distinction oi ~ ? A ?- ? -U*. J? ?A#AM?iA/7 t/N VvA* rare ueauty, uuwujr inwiou uv> ugi musical talent; discussion was devoted to the singer's personal charms. By this time both men and women were in a better mood, having disposed of one victim submitted to public caprice. Two young men occupying seata together were talking to each other in undertones. Fifty more were doing the tame thing. "I never bother with the libretto unless I am interested. Besides, we know the story." The orchestration is execrable." "You are forever finding fault, Livingeton." "The house is not properly ventilated." . "Anything else?" , "There is too much color; distracts one's attention." "Is that all?" "Then these seats are absolutely stuffy. It makes me warm to look at the boxes." , "Hush! There she is. Ah!" . The prima donna was on, bowing in answer to the ripple of applause that rose until it swelled into a hearty greeting in the gallery. i. The singer swept the house with a glance, and in the same Instant Livingston discovered she was a great beauty. She was altogether unlike the singer who preceded her. This woman with the flashing dark yes and sylph-like grace was, conscious of her power, self-contained. She looked over the audience a second time, bowed slightly in response to the warm greeting, and began to sing. The , first note ?he uttered thrilled Livingston. Be glanced quickly at his companion. Beauchampe's eyes were fixed upon the lnger, whose voice searched the innermost recesses of the heart, and moved it In spite of one's self. A a aintvoi* hnna ma aV>Qrkr}-w>H in hpr gart, the sea of faces were forgotten. he sang like one Inspired. Suddenly the wonderful voice ceased, and then there was a whirlwind of applause. Whatever was in store for the opera, Vittorla, the prima donna, had scored an instantaneous success. "What do you think of her, Beauchampe?" Beaucbampe's gaze was so intent, his being so absorbed in the action and the linger, that he had eyes or ears for anything else. His eyes drank in the elegance of her attitude, the exquisite contour of her head, the beauty of the crown of brown hair that adorned her as few women are crowned. Then he settled himself in his seat with an involuntary igh. "Positively you are hit, Beauchampe." ; Beauchampe put out a hand. V "She is going to sing again." f The prima donna moved slowly acros9 the stage; the sunlight streamed in at the open windows; the checkered rays fell upon the sprays of silver that cauprht tip her robe; they slanted on her brown hair, giving it a tinge of gold, and at that moment she looked divine. Her voice rose, fell, stole aloft, linger ed in the air like a chime of bells. The hearts of the listeners throbbed as he poured out her soul in song. And till her voice soared aloft, hung pulsing In the air in throbs, while men and women held their breath in suspense. The words and the air transported the audience to the mountain heights; the pulsing notes were like the lingering softness of the mountain breeze sighing on the heather. The singer swayed the vast audience ?s one person; her empire was undisputed. When she ceased, the audience, relieved from a trance of feverish intoxication, burst forth into such a fury of applause that the singer was compelled to repeat her song again, and asrain. Tho opera was no longer a trial. It was a success. As the whirlwind gathers leaves and tosses them high in the air, so the whirlwind of popular approval carried the Audience away until men and women waved handkerchiefs, fans and flowers aloft The thunders that voiced the applause filled the theater: they rang through the lobby, the__main entrance, out upon the street Tney penetrated the green-room, echoed in the drawingroom. Beauchampe was aroused by his friend; he was sitting like one in a dream. "I spoke twice. What possesses you?" Then, as Beauchampe turned to him lowly, Livingston added: "I was saying she must be an Italian. I Burelv. she is no German. What do you think?" "I think she is divine. " Livingston laughed, and Beashampe blushed furiously. WI do not think she is a foreigner; she has an American face. I'd swear she is an American." "You are very positive." I have good reason. I have studied the face.? "For fully fifteen minutes." "Say rather fifteen days." Livingston turned quickly. The act was over, and people were going out. The hum of conversation filled the theater. aYes; I retouched her portrait. I wai so struck wjth it that I made a copy of It?that Is, I rubbed it in, and woreed up the details later, but I now see my error. I don't mind telling you?I met her abroad. I have not done the original Justice. However, I can remedy the defects in twenty minutes now?les? time." Ik S* ' * ' ' ' ? few i'i '* ' ' V i* ? 1 He was speaking to hlmBelf rather than to Livingston, who caught him by the shoulder, laughingly saying: "What nonsense is this? Wake up, old fellow! There is a very tiresome wait, I'm i^old. Let's go out; this air is 6ti fling. * Then the friends went out arm in arm. When they reached the streot, a cry was raised by a victim of a pickpocket When the rush was over Livingston looked for Beauchampe in vain. I >. Ho. walked rapidly in one direction. tlTeifin Xnother. He glanced into the only places Beauchampc was gt ?.1J likely to enter, a saloon and a restau-' rant, but Beauchampe was not In either. Livingston was annoyed, but not seriously alarmed. .Beauchampe was abundantiy ablelo take care of himself. A city-bred man, who had lived two years in Paris, and as many in Rome; a man used to meeting all kinds of people, could surely hold his own in any community chance might throw l^im into? and yet it was strange, deuced strange, that he should disappear so suddenly. The second act was well on when Livingston re-entered the theater slowly. Half a dozen people scowled as ne resumed his seat; they were deeply Interested fn the opera, enthused over the new singer. Suddenly Livingston experienced relief. He smiled now at his dullness. Nothing could be clearer. Beauchampe's words were sufficient. He was smitten with tne singer's charms, and since he had retouched her portrait within a fortnight, what could be more natural. Doubtless he had availed himself of an unexpected opportunity to pay his respects to the prima donna in the green room. Well, Livingston, could excuse him. A man head over heels in love with a woman, as it was plain Beauchampe was!?however, Livingston resolved to rally him the moment they met again. And yet?why should Beauchampe remain in the green-room? The prima donna was on the stage. Possibly the artist was talking with the manager, who was so overjoyed tbat night that he talked to everybody. A commotion near ono of the doors caused half the audience to look around angrily. There was a scuffle, cries and oaths blendecL Blows sounded simultaneously with the oaths. There were cries of "Kick him outl* "The ruffian." Many rose in their places and looked on the scene that interrupted the performance on the stage. Livingston beheld a young man with disheveled hair striking one of the ushers a violent blow in the face. The young man's face was inflamed drink and devilish passion. If Livingston had not stood up quickly and noted all that passed, ho would have t.hnntrht. it was a disagreeable dream, but there could not be any mistake. The young man who had cursed the ushers end knocked one down, and who stood In full view of the people In the parquette striking right and left at the ushers and police officer was Leslie Beauchampe. Livingston experienced a sickening sensation, but controlled himself instantly and made his way to the entrance as fast as he could. That Beauchampe would drink to excess, Livingston until that moment deemed incredible: that drink would transform a man with all the instincts, to say nothing of the breeding of a gentleman, into a brawling ruffian in fifteen minutes, Livingston had not thought possible. But since his friend was Insane with drink, it was his duty to stand by him?to contrive to take him to some place where he could be restrained until he recovered his senses. When Livingstoh hastened to the entrance, the group gathered there were furious. Some were invoking the aid of police, while others execrated tne ruman who had eluded them. Livineston listened like a man In a dream to the broken speeches of those around him, from which he learned that his friend had sullenly submitted to physical force and numbers, and for the reason that he was handcuffed, until his captors approached the street. Then?no one knew how tho prisoner managed it?he had suddenly dealt the officer having him in charge a blow back of the ear, felling him on the instant, kicked one of the attaches of tho theater, inflicted serious injuries upon his victim, and, ere those around him could put forth a hand to stay his progress, bounded out on the pavement, darted between two passing vehicles, and disappeared from view. Two or three who ran toward the vehicles. and failed to discover in Which direction the ruffian had fled, were describing their sensations upon realizing that the man had escaped. The pursuers looked at each other blankly, until those who lifted the policeman uttered exclamations ot surprise. Upon turning him over, they found in his right hand (which doubled under him when he fell), the handcuffs he had placed upon the prisoner's wrists. This explained a part of the incident. The prisoner was an expert in freeing bis bands of handcuffs. Livingston stood, an interested listener, wbile tbe policeman slowly gathered his wits and contemplated the shining bands of steeL "It is no common thief, whoever he is, gentlemen," said the policeman, slowly. "I never heard of but one man that could do that?now I know there are two." He listened silently to the speculations of those around him. Some of the ideas advanced were very wild?Livingston deemed them silly and absurd. The policeman at length turned and shook his head; then said in a matterof-fact manner: "You are all wrong, gentlemen. The man we aro looking for is an old bird. He has done time in more than one prison. We know the signs?and they are all plain this time. There can't be any mistake about it." Livingston withdrew from the group stunned, shocked. His sensations during the ensuing ten seconds were inexpressible. To enter the theater again was impossible. i One thought occupied his mind. What had become of his friend Beauchampe? Was he insane?crazed with some vile decoction, or was he only drunk, and like some men when drunk devilish? Whatever it was Livingston resolved to "get at the bottom of the business." That was the duty he charged himself with now, and for several reasons deemed sufficient taken separately. In the first place he would not be guilty of deserting a friend in a pinch. In the second place his curiosity was piqued, and in the third place the affair now presented the elements of a mystery, and if there was one thing that Livingston had a passion for above all other things it was the business of exploring and unraveling mpsteries. His talent for this kind of work was well known, and in his profession many conceded him much more than talent. They 6aid he had given the world indisputable evidence of positive genius. As'Livingston stood under a gaslight near the entrance to the theater, he recalled the events of the last hali-hour with an expression that revealed perplexity and apurehension. The longer he pondered the more visible was his annoyance and dissatisfaction as he weighed and dismissed in turn the various means which might be employed to assist him in discovering the cause of Beauchampu's extraordinary and wholly inexcusable behavior, and solving the seemingly inexplicable mystery surrounding his disappearance. Livingston looked at Ms witcn. "Half past ten! I shall not return to the office to-night And since I have no assignment, and nothing special on hand for forty-eight hours, I wil! call at Beauchampe's lodgings?why not? Yes, that is the first move, the starting point. For the first time in my life I am involved in part and parcel of a mystery. He selected a cigar, and contemplated it slowly, still pondering; then as he lit it, said to himself with something like a misgiving: "And I must confess the sensation I experience at this moment Is not altogether agreeable." CHAPTER II. . A. DOUBLE LIFE. Livingston was walking rapidly. His face was turned toward a car which would enable him to accomplish his purpose in fifteen minutes, when a hand was laid on his arm, and a strong, hearty-voiced man accosted him. "How are you, Mr. Livingston? Simmoni" - - - "All rignx^ iuuuk yuu. j. um gujug uii this car." He turned about suddenly, and, facing the man with the strong voice, added: On second thought, I won't No need to recall yourself, Mr. Simmons. I seldom forget names, and never forget faces. It isn't likely I will forget your face, and in common gratitude I ought never to forget your name. I am glad I met you. I will believe in special providence after this." "You always made too much of that affair, Mr. Livingston," said Simmons, with deepening color' in his bronzed cheeks. "If you mean in print, possibly yes: but, between ourselves, you saved my life, Simmons, and we both know it" "It was all chance. Another man in my place would have done just the same, and anyhow you've more than made it level. Your story fixed me?gave me the best chance any man ever had to show what he can do. I'm in the postal department, just back from Tennessee. On two weeks' holiday?first I've had since that scrape." Livingston grasped Simmons' hand. "I congratulate you. If the Government had more like you But don't let's moralize. Two weeks holiday? Simmons;" hero Livingston's tones suddenly became confidential, while his manner and expression indicated confidence. "I'm glad we've met. I am in a quandary. Can you give me ten minutes now?" "An hour?all night, if I can be of any service." "Simmons," said Livingston, earnestly, ~VUU arc J U2>0 tuv rnau. x UJ Hi cai uvou I'll tell you the story. Maybe you can help me. You know every corner in New York." Then Livingston recited the facts in the fewest words possible. Simmons reflected. "You want to keep the thing shady. I see. If we can find him you have some way to cet him out of town, I suppose?until it is fixed up, or blows over. His first open break? I mean since he reformed?If he has reformed?" "Why, Beauchampe is not that sort of & man at all!" Livingston replied quickly. "It is impossible He was abroad years studying. Hundreds know all about him. I only repeated what the policcman said. " "Well, you saw him strike the usher In the theater. You are sure of that." "Quite. The entire affair suprised me ?stunned me. There is a mystery somewhere, Simmons. I can't believe Beauchampe was in nis senses?no one who knows him could be made to believe he would be guilty of the conduct I witnessed. Then the suddenness of the change?what would transform a man like Beauchampe into a ruffian in twelve or fifteen minutes?" "I've seen it done," said Simmons. "Absinthe is bad?and mixing it with other drinks is worse. Anyhow, I understand what you want I don't care what your reason is; it's a pity of his relatives, if he has any. We will go right to work on it, and not waste a minute. I know just whore to begin, and I am alway9 well heeled?second nature, I truess." Simmons laughed as he led the way. "There is a queer little hole not far from the theater. I know the man that has the place. We will look in there. You can looK around you. I will step into another room with the proprietor. No danger there? the proprietor would lose all he has rather than have anything happen to me in his place. If he should be so unfortunate, nothing could save him from goini? back to prison?if he should escape the gallows.- We are old acquaintances." Livingston thought ho had never looked upon more dangerous men than those who Rlanced furtively at him when bis companion disappeared in an off-set in the wall at the upper end of the dive "Black Steve" presided over. More brutal faces he had seen and described, grosser passions were graven in the face3 of men he had seen in other haunts: in none, however, had he encountered such .sinister countenances; me eyes lurnea upon him, that he felt examining him, measuring him physically, mentally and morally, were baleful; murder slumbered In some, and shone steadily, coldly in others. For the first time in his life Livingston shivered with fear. The sensation was so new to him, that he was angry with himself. He regained his self-control or. the instant, and looked deliberately over the faces lifted to his own. Apparently no one ^here evinced mora interest <n nim tnan m tne tobacco* stained floor they spat on. Simmons rejoined him at the end of five minutes, and they left the dive without speaking. When they stood on the pavement again Simmons said: "Our man was there." "In that place!" Livingston's looks ai well as his tones discredited the statement "If you are quite sure, Simmons, that settles it; at the same timo, the proof must be powerful to convince me. Why, that crowd gave me a cold chill I'd as soon make my bed in a cave with rattlesnakes as to trust my life to that gang." "And you would be right there. Nearly every man there has killed hii man?and some have helped to kill moro than one, and two or three I noticed have served full time for murder, or been pardoned?nice, choice lot Yes, Steve knows our man. He mado no bones about telling me. Why ho was so outspoken I can't tell?unless ho is afraid of me?I won't say without pood cause. Stove would give all he has in tho world to read my gravestone. Our man is " Simmons halted, looked at Livingston with friendly interest, then walked on again, saying: "Yon may as well prepare yourself for disagreeable news, Mr. Livingston." "Out with it; but cut it short, Simmons." "Well, you are all wrong?dead wrong. Your man is a full-blown double, as near as I can make out?and I don't often make mistakes. I don't care in this case?I'd rather bo mistaken on your account, after what you've told me." "What do you mean by a full-blown double?" "Your friend has two sides, one for decent people and one for tho crowd back there." Simmons lifted his left thumb to hi3 shoulder. "Best not worry over it, Mr. Livingston, but ho is bound to come to grief sooner or later. It's only a question of time with the smartest of them." "There is some mistake. You are talking or another man altogether. It is impossible." uWe are all liable to mistakes," said Simmons, slowly. "It is coming pretty close this time. He told Steve be had got into a scrape, and changed his hat and coat in there. He went out the back way, crossed a fence, and walked out on the next street The simplest thing in the word. He walked through a saloon after he jumped the fence." "I don't believe Beauchampe could be paid to do it," said Livingston. "Nor would you, Simmons, if you could see him and talk with him five minutes." Livingston spoke with considerable feeling, at first with spirit, then a shade of disappointment was manifested. "Your business make you suspicious; you can't help It, but the thing is impossible.", "There's a good deal In what you say, but Steve says he said the fuss was Id the theater. He knocked two or three men down, beside clipping the policeman they brought in. There is no mistake about that. Then he is the only man Steve knows that can do that trick with the handcuffs?and Steve says he has seen him do it more than once, but never knew just how he managed. I think I know it Did you ever notice anything peculiar about your friend's hands?" "No," said Livingston, absent-mindedly. "Everything all right? Thumbs usual, size? No marks on hands, no " "Simmons, once for all," said Livingston, in positive tones, "you are ail wrong. As for Beauchampe's hands, I never noticed particularly, more than that they are finely formed, but they are not small, aud he is very particular about them. That is why I am convinced there is an absurd mistake. Beauchampe is the soul of refinement? utterly incapable of such deception. He could no more associate with that villainous crowd " "He got drunk. You saw him punch the usher." "I did?but that is what I want cleared up, Simmons." "Very well. Stick to your friend, Mr. Livingston. That's all right. I admire you ail the more for it. But now you've got my curiosity aroused. I'll see it through if it takes months. There's my hand on it." Simmons extended a hand, which Livingston grasped cordially. "There's just one more place I want to look in now. Steve thinks he might be there?he was heading that way. We can walk?no need to get in a car. I am going to convince you that Beauchampe to mnn on/1 oofiofTT mV lo UL1UIXiUi 3UI u Ui. jxiaui) uuu guiuidi j uij self; then we'll arrange to pet him out of the road for awhile. That is your Idea?" "Precisely," Livingston replied. "I am putting the matter entirely in your hands now, Simmons." "If you have anything of value, just put it in a safe place. I could get it back, but there is no use inviting trouble. You'll only meet 'crooks'?there isn't a man there that could be hired to murder you. Altogether different from that crowd we left. Steve says your friend isn't a prime favorite on that accouut. Hs goes thero oftener than he is wanted." "Among pickpockets?" "Steve says he has seen him there often." "Beauchampe in a rendezvous with pickpockets?a common associate!" "We are going right to the bottom of this business now," said Simmons, resolutely. "Thore's no stopping-place." His professional pride was piqued now. "Why isn:i he a favorite? Has Beauchampe killed his man, too? I'll beiieve It when he tells mo." "There's something back of their dislike. Steve thinks it the most natural thing in the world. Here wo are. Thi9 way." Simmons led the way through an entry Livingston had remarked a hundred times. The passageway had always been associated in his mind with a dingy little store. He had assumed the passage had fallen into disuse because the occupants of the store found it more convenient to pass in and out of the store-room. When Simmons stepped clear of the passage, and opened a door on the left In the rear building, Livingston looked Into a pool-room in full blast. fTO be continued. I TEMPERANCE. BOWING AND BEAPINO. At a temperance meeting one man said "We hear a good deal said In these modern times about the young man who Is called one of the boys.' If you sow wild oats, boys, you will reap wila oats. Remember your mothers, who will have to suffer for you " "It isn't necessary for a man to die to go to hell. He can get scorched right here. Nor is it necessary to die to go to heaven. If you want it you can have on earth a heaven to go to heaven with." Another said. "I've swallowed my house and ail my oeiongmgs, out it nas mujjuw u? a lesson. I'll drink rum no more." DBJNKINO AND OBATOEY. In his book. ''The People I've Smiled With," Marshall P. Wilder, the humorist, says "Some of my most successful work has been in the line of after dinner speeches, and I have been asked how I could go through ten or twelve courses of food and six or eight different kinds of wine and then have any head on my shoulders. The answer is very easy?I don't. I never drink wine or any other liquor. I don't want to give away any other business man's secrets, but I venture to say that the best after dinner speakers In the United States are the most moderate diners. If you will cast your eye at the table in front of some man at a big dinner who gets up and makes a capital speech, you will pobably see one of two things?either that his glasses are all turned upside down or that they are entirely full. In other words, he has been drinking little or nothing." TEMPERANCE NEWS AND NOTES. In 1891 the legalized liquor traffic gav? this country 300,000 criminals, 800,000 paupers and 300,000 idiots. Mr. Powderly declares that he would rather have a following of 100,000 total abstainers than a million moderate drinkers. Liquor licences are refused to all establishments within 400 yards of schools and churches in the District of Columbia. In Glasgow. Scotland, fifty-nine out of sixty-two criminals tried at one session of a court, testified that drinking had led to their crimes. The newly-elected Mayor of Austin,Minn., has announced his intention to have the law for closing the saloons on Sunday rigidly enforced. The .State noarci 01 neauuui aiau^uo u? been given authority to revoke the license of any physician who is guilty of habitual drunkenness. Baltimore's Y. 31. C. A. has declined the proceeds of u bazaar held for its benefit by the German branch of the association because beer was sold. Nearly every woman iu St. Louis has signed a petition asking that a temperance man be appointed marshal to look after the enforcement of the liquor law The Senate Committee on Foreign Relations has reported a resolution which provides for concerted action by tho United States and several European powers to prohibit the sale of intoxicating liquors and firearms to the natives of the New Hebrides Islands. The Axmv Temperance Association of England is allowed ?2500 by the Government toward its working expenses. The Secretary of State ior War in his speech on the estimates paid a well-deserved tribute of praise to the excellent results wbich have followed the operations of this association both at home and abroad. Tvro Xeir Tj Elegant dress of black crepon, the skirt slightly draped over petticoat of black moire antique. Crepon sleeves, with moire cuffs. Bodice entirely of moire, with full basques, and draped with bow and paste buckle over a vest of ecru guipure. Little guipure cravat, with paste buckle. A New Sailor Hat. Some of the new sailor hats have medium brims of light straw, and soft tops of silk or fine cashmere in a good deal the shape of tam-o-shanter tops. This brim crown is tipped jauntily to rest on the brim on one side, and a pair of cock's quills are set against the opposite side of the crown. The prettiest toques and capotes are those made of the crown cut from the brim of either a leghorn or a rough straw. About the sides of the crown, so dismantled, sash ribbon is folded, being drawn through buckles and so narrowed to the height of the hat. Loops spreading to right and left are drawn one at each corner of the hat, then round bunches of flowers (pansies set closely together, primroses or violets), are set between the loop3 irregularly, and back of the bunch a lit le to the side of the front stand two upright cock's feathers with frosted tips. Carried out in a mixed straw top, bound about the sides with black moire rihhnn wit.Ti orange colored tjrimroses. for the bunches and black cock's feathers tipped with jet frosting, nothing could be prettier or more stylish for the street. The same idea, using the crown of a white leghorn, blue sash ribbon in satin or moire and violets for flowers, is prettier for more summery effect. The crown of last year's sailor may be used in this way. It takes but a glance at the hat of to-day's picture to see that it cannot be made from the crown or brim of any hat, this or last year's. It is made of fancy straw, and has a flat crown and a wavy, bent brim, which is slashed at the sides where the crown joins it. The trimming in back consists of an arrangement of black velvet ribbon and feathers, and a black velvet butterfly bow is placed on the inside of the brim in front. The tie strings commence at the point of the slashes between crown and brim. ? New York Advertiser. Tariety ot Climate in Australia. What is our idea of the Australian climate? It is most probably new to us to be told?perhaps we have never even thought of it?that in the one colony of New South Wales, in parts, the inhabitants experience a winter like Canada and a summer like Jamaica. In Kiandra, a mining town on the borderland between New South Wales and Victoria, there is no communication with the outside world for four months in the year, except by the use of snowshoes. Snowshoe races are organized, and the mail man has to j use these means of locomotion. At the same time in Queensland the sun will be pouring down in oversowing strength, drying up all before him and making water dearer than wine. To continue the tale of this diversity of climate, in part of Northern Queensland the rainfall and vegetation are not unlike those of Ceylon; in the northern riv?rs of New South Wales canebiakes flourish, as moist and luxuriant as in Jamaica; in the west of the same colony a long file ef camels laden with merchandise has become a common object; anil in Tasmania, Assam hybrid tea plants grow side by side with barley, maize, or potatoes,?All the Year Round. A Verbal Request Helil Good. Just before Miss Mercy Morgan died in Stroudsburg, Penu., about a year ago, she made a statement to sotars of her friends that upon her deatk an old tin box, which was stored away in the house, was to go to her housekeeper, Mrs. Pryor. There was no will and the administrator refused to give the box up. A jury has just said that Mrs. Pryor is entitled to the box, which, when opened, contained nearly $i000. ?Philadelphia Times. The feudatory States of India have armies amounting to 349,000 men. iilor Frocks. Smart little tailor suit in shot diagonal fawn and electric blue. Very long, full skirted coat with, rovers, and double breasted revered vest of blue Tattersall. Plain skirt. Gigot sleeves. The waistcoat has two rows of buttons.?New York Herald. . The Holstein Friesians. This breed is reputed to excel aD other breeds in the amount of milk produced, the quality being considered generally inferior to the Jerseys. They are, however, excellent bnttei cows and more robust than theii rivals. They fatten readily and make excellent beef. Our cut represents a splendid speci PRIZE HOLSTEDi FBIESIAN BULL. men of the breed, Colantha's 2d, Sir Henry 10,497. At the Columbian Fair this bull received the following awards: First as aged bull, first in sweepstakes competition, headed herd awarded first, was a member of herd for which Sir Henry, of Maplewood, was awarded first for bull and produce; headed herd awarded third prize for bull and produce, and was awarded third premium as aged bull 111 tne grand sweepstakes general purpose class, all breeds and a large number competing. He was got by Sir Henry, of Maplewood, 2933, H. H. B., out of imported Colantha, 6714, H. H. B.; milk record of seventy pounds per day ai three years old, twenty-one pounds nine ounces butter as a young cow in seven days and thirty-one pounds seveD ounces as aged cow. In color he is nicely and evenly marked and is remarkably vigorous and stylish in his general appearance. He is five years old, well developed and almost perfect in every point, as is shown by his creditable record in the prize-ring.? New York World. An Ostrich-Skin Rng. One of the most interesting curiosities for which sea captains' cabins are noted is possessed by Captain Peabody, of the ship Tam o' Shanter. It is a rug made of seven ostrich skins, with feathers entire, sewed with catgut strings. The Captain obtained it on one of his voyages to Patagonia. The work shows considerable skill and an eye for color effects possessed by the Patagonians, for the colors are most artistically blended. Captain Peabody asserts that it ia almost impenetrable to the cold, and maintains its pristine freshness and durability against all rough handling on shipboard.?Philadelphia Record. A Xorel and Dangerous Weapon, Many peculiar weapons are turned over to the property clerk of the Police Department at the Central Office, but none of a more original design than that contributed by the sergeant of the East Thirty-fifth Street Station last Sunday. It consisted of a pistol of small and formidable make, capable of firing seven .22 calibre bullets, and "2IY FRIEND." so shaped as to be easily concealed in the palm of the hand. The handle is of silver plated steel, with a hole in ! the middle for the second finger, and I when so desired the pistol can be used as a knuckler. The weapon was taken from Albert Frankenburg, who, with three companions, was arrested early Sunday morning on a charge of stealing a keg of beer from tne saloon 01 jjouis Becker. The pistol is called "-My Friend." Those words are engraved upon the barrel.?Xew York Herald. Twius at Sixty-Three. In June, 1S92, Mrs. Harrison Breedlove, of Carson City, Xev., presented her husband with a bouncing pair of twins. This fact of itself is not "out of the ordinary,"' but when it isknown that the lady was sixty-three years of age at that time, and the husband over seventy, it becomes an item worthy of record in all annals devoted to oddities respecting human beings. The Breed- I loves are said to be the oldest couple ' in the world that were ever so favored. ?St. Louis Republic. NATIONAL COLORS. FLAGS OF THE UNITED STATES ARMY AND NAVY. Emblems Carried by Infantry antf Cavalry ? A War Ship Carrie* About 160 Flags?Great Britain's Ensigns. THE history of the American flag is too familiar to need repetition. The stars, in number equal to that of the States?a star being added whenever a Territory is admitted to statehood? form the union, the thirteen stripes representing the original States. Both national and regimental colore are used in the United States Army by each regiment (except cavalry, which has only a regimental standard), and by the Engineer battalion?the national colors in various sizes. The garrison flag, the largest, is used only at important posts. It is twenty feet on the hoist, with a fly of thirty-six feet, the union being one-third the length ol the fly, ana in aepin 10 x.ae mm lower edge of the storm flag smaller H still. The regimental colors of the B United States Infantry are of bine B silk, and bear in the centre the arms B of the United States. Below the. eagle B is a red scroll, with the number and B name of the regiment in white. The B United States Artillery has scarlet B regimental colors, with two cannons B crossed in the centre, with "U. S." inB yellow above, and the regimental B number below. The cavalry regi- B mental standard is a beautiful seam- B less yellow silk, with a four-foot fly B and three feet on the lance. The arms B of the United States are in bine in the B centre, and beneath the eagle a red B scroll bears the name and number of B the regiment in yellow. The United fl States Engineers carry scarlet colors, H bearing in the centre a castle with B "U. S." above and "Engineers" be- B low, castle and lettering being in sil- B ver. Battles in which the regiments B distinguished themselves were for- H merly listed on the colors and B standards, but are now shown on the Bj staffs. The national and regimental H colors and standards are kept at the H commanding officer's quarters, and H are escorted to the color company or H troop amid muck ceremony, _the^ escort being headed by the band. The Hj color-guard are selected for their H soldierly appearance and qualities? H men who would rather die than snr-H render. The flags of the United States NavyH are made of American bnnting thor-H ougbly tested for strength, andH soaked in salt water and dried in the H snn for colors. There- may be someM hundred and sixty flags on a United HE States war ship?say twenty-five for-H eign flags (according to the station onH which she will cruise), twenty Ameri-M can ensigns, eleven pennants, four^B union-jacks, twelve rear-admiral's^^ flags (if a flag ship), twenty international signals, and the remainder sig-^B nal and miscellaneous flags. EnsignsH (stars and strips, of course) run inH eight sizes, from that used on vessels H with very long spars, such as the newHj Brooklyn and Minneapolis will have, H and which is nineteen feet on theH hoist and thirty-six feet on the lly, to^B the little 2.37x4.50 foot boat-flog, too^E small to sport more than the original^B thirteen States in its union. The No.^fl 1 union-jack is the 10.20x14.40 footHj union of the No. 1 ensign, and the^B other jacks conforn similar to the^B anions of the corresponding ensigns. ^B When a captain puts his ship into^B commission, he hoists, in addition to^B the ensign, a pennant. This has a flyHj of seventy feet, the union occupying^! 17.50, with thirteen stars. The ad-^H miral's and vice-admiral's flags of theflE United States Navy, when these ranksH| are filled, are blue, with four and^J three white stars respectively. It willHj be remembered from the Columbian naval review, when our fleet was^Hj divided into three squadrons, each in^H command of a rear-admiral, that we HH preserve the old English distinction^H of the blue, the red, and the white^f flag. The Secretary of the Navy fliespR' a blue flag with four white stars, an|L anchor and cable, the Assistant Secre-^B tary reversing the colors. The Presi-^H dent's flag is blue, with the arms of^H the United States, the eagle and stars^H white, the shield preserving the "tinc-^H tures." The red and white-crossedHa flag of Denmark is the oldest existing^B national color, having been in use^H since 1219. Next to our own flag, that of Gre&tHjj Britain interests us most. It is called^H Via "nr>inn" flftO' because it is threeHfl flags in one. The flag of England is red cross on a white field; that oi^H Scotland, a white St. Andrew's cross^H on a bine field. These flags were com-^H bined when England and Scotland^J united in 1683; and on the union witb^H Ireland, the Irish flag, a red St. An-flH drew's cross on a blue fleld, was added.^H The union of the three countries i^^fl thus indicated on the "union." Th^^B St. George's cross of England remain^M the same as before, and is the centialHg feature of the flag, dividing it intc^H four quarters occupied by the St.^H Andrew's crosses, the white of Scot-^H 1 land and the red of Ireland, which are^H placed side by side. Aboard a Britist^H war ship the "union" is hoisted onlji^B when the Queen or an admiral ii^H aboard. English ships sail under th^^fl British ensign, of which there areBB three kinds?white, blue and red^^a each with the "union" in a square ii^M the upper part of the hoist?that por-HH tiou of the dog along the staff. Th<^H navy, and, by special permission, th^^a Royal Yacht Club, sail under the whit^^J ensign, which has, besides the union,^H the red cross of St. George over thc^H whole. The blue ensign is a privi^H larra q11/->wp,1 fr> merchant shin^HS '"6V ? * which are officered by members of th^^H Naval Reserve, and one-third of whosc^H crews belong to the Reserve. It also flown by a few yacht clubs. Tk<^H| red is the merchant men's ensign. Un^^J til 1861 the British Xaval fleet was di-^^g vidcd into three squadrons, each ii^H command of an admiral, who wa^^R known by the color of his flag, as th^^H "admiral 01 the blue," the "admiral o^H red," and the "admiral of the white. This distinction was abolished becaust^H it was found puzzling in action, anc^RH was often eliminated. Trafalgar, foi^H instance, was fought under the whit^HB ensign. The French and SpauislH9 ships went into action without settin^^H their colors, but were later obliged hoist them, so that they could b$ to strike them.?The Outlook. nU