University of South Carolina Libraries
A MIDNIGHT miunnnv. imiijuji; ??OR ft Griie of lis Biffs Ola BY W. F. MOTT. r CHAPTER XIV Cerntiirood. 1 "I will suppose that John Oakburn Ireally saved the money his daughter ( apposed he did, and that it was in his nrivate safe. Kredee, knowing ;about this money, might have opened |the Bate, taken the money, relocked the j'strong box,' and returned the key to (Oakburn's pocket. Or, it is possible :that he may have privately provided 'himself with a duplicate. Though the !eafe was not found open it does not fol[low that it was not robbed. I was very near oommittlng an oversight in negjlecting this point in the case," thought 'Paxton. i Paxton shadowed Kredge back to the xlty. J The detective next instituted an investigation which elicited the Informajtion that Donald Wayburn, the author Of the threatening letter found among John Oakburn's correspondence, was a Voung man who had been obliged to flee 'from New York on account of having ;been the promoter of a gigantic swindle, which had resulted In the financial ruin of a large number of people. Some of his information the detective received from Jason Garrison, who remarked in the course of the conversation: ! "Yes, Wayburn was a scoundrel. My old cashier, John Oakburn, could have told you more about him than I can, for he had several thousand dollars' in tho swindle of which that man was the head. Poor old John! He was never tired of denouncing Wayburn as a villain." "Hal" thought Paxton. "This information favors my theory that Wayburn may have been the assassin, with Kredge for a confederate. But stay] The name Pratt & Weeks gave the man who carried the skeleton keys was Garnar, and yet that does not prove that he Is not really Way burn. Garnar may be ?n alias." Paiton oontinued his Investigation relating to Way burn, hoping to thereby arrive at a revelation of the truth regarding the secret of the supposed assassin's Identity. .He did not succeed In establishing the fact whloh he had hoped to prove, that) Wayburn had returned to New York and was In the city at the time of the murder: VTbis failure left his theory wanting in 'a most important link of presumptive vklence*. i But Parton thought: ' "If Donald Way burn returned to the city he would have the bost possible reason for concealing the fact, since discovery would no doubt result in hl6 &r-> rest by the parties whom ho swindled1 T> ;t H ic JTC&iD ttgu. ?<>911 li UU UiU ivvuiu *V ?o not surprising that I have been unable to establish the fact." I A day or two later one of Paxton's agent9 shadowed Judith Kredge to a savings bank, where she was seen to deposit money, and inquiry solicited the fact that the woman had opened an account thero. At Paxton's request an examination of the books was made, which resulted In the discovery that all the money to; Judith Kredge'8 credit bad been deposited sinoe John Oakburn's murder. This the detective regarded as significant. The bank had received no marked money, however. Prompted by a suspicion which he had all along entertained, Paxton visited the window at which Stanmore and himself had spied when the detective was shadowing Kredge. Crouching at the kitchen window of Oakburn's apartment as before, he again saw Marion and Judith. The curtains were drawn, but at the Bide of the window there was a narrow epace which the curtain did not cover, through which he could command a view of tho room. Paxton witnessed a scene which ervod to further mystify and perplex; him, and it also occasioned him the createst surprise. i He saw Marlon Oakburn count out a large sum of money and give it to Judith Kredge. The detective was confident that the amount thus given to the woman by Marion could not have been leas than five hundred dollars. The recollection of the conversation which he had overheard between Judith Hredge and her brother Levi returned to Paxton's mind, freighted with startling significance. "It Is then from Marion Oakburn that Judith Kredge has received her money. But wherefore? If I can read the expression on Marion Oakburn's face aright, she is in deadly fear of Judith Kredge. Can it be that there is another mystery here?" Paxton remained at the window until Marion and Judith withdrew. Ho learned nothing further, for darkness closed upon the scene in the loom where the money changed hands a few moments after the transfer was made. The detecUvo then returned to his office to examine a report made by one st his acents. which established the fact that an or l/evl ITredcre's time on th$ night of the murder had been accounted for exccpt one hour?from one quarter or fifteen minutes after twelve to the game time after one o'clock. We know that John Oakburn met his death between the hours of twelve and ViiC V V4VV?. Here was another item of presumptive evidence against Kredge. Since the cunning agent of the detective had been able to trace Kredgo for every moment of the night of the murder-with ynerring .certitude, except for the 6C5 fatal hoTir <5f the murder, tTie deteotivo inferred that Kredge must have surrounded his movements for that one hour with every precaution of secrecy. Paxton could arrest Kredge at any time, but as yet he regarded 6uch a I course as premature. CHAPTER XV. The agent to whom Paxton had intrusted the task of ascertaining where I.evl Kredge was on the night of th? murder, and at the hour when the crime w was committed, had neglected one proceeding which his principal had advised. He had failed to search the janitor' room. i Paxton resolved to visit this apart tae&tinDerBor . .. xne next: evening tne aetemve repaired to his boarding place. The landlady admitted him, and he c said: "I called to 6ee Mr. Kredge." "He is not at home, sir," replied the 1 landlady. 1 "In that case I will wait, if you please; { I have an engagement with Levi. He asked me to run up to his room and make 1 myself at home in case I arrived before * he returned." "Very well. The second doc on the 3 right at the head of the stairs." Paxton ascended to Levi Kredge's room, entered and closed and secured tho door. I . The janitor's room was a email sleep- ? Jng~ apartment, witn a cioset opening from it. e Besides the usual furniture, the room contained Kedge'6 trunk. It was locked, hut Paxton opened It by means of a skeleton key, and searched It. Ho discovered nothing to reward his quest. Then he ransacked all the drawers, and still he made no discovery. Completing the search of the sleepingroom, he entered the closet. Presently Paxton emerged from the closet with a small canvas bsCg, such as gold coin is packed in at the mint, in his hand. "I thought some discovery might be made here," said the detective to himself, in a tone of satisfaction, as ho placed the small canvas bag in his pocket. Then he ran down stairs. The landlady met him in the hall. "Are you going, sir?" she asked. "Yes, I'll run round and see Levi at the office." Paxton was well satisfied. He had made something of a discovery, he fancied, but regarding it he maintained the most profound secrecy. At the timo when Paxton undertook the solution of the mystery of John Oakburn'6 murder, he was engaged in another Investigation which related to certain affairs which do not interest us. Some business pertaining to the mattor induced Paxton to make a visit to a ] certain obscure East Side street, where ? the dangerous undercurrent of the great r city's human tide was ever to be dreaded, j one night soon after the occurrence last j recorded. t The detective was elaborately dis- t guised, for he was too well known to the t criminal classes, and he had too many j enemies among them to think of ventur- r ing among them in his owd proper per- j sonality. As he traversed the dimly lighted way, c Paxton noticed a female form flitting j along before him, and he fancied ther t was something familiar about the worn- e an's appearancc. E In a moment or so he was at the j woman's side, and a6 she passed beneath a street lamp at a corner the night wind r lifted a veil which she wore, and he t caught a glimpse of her faco and recog' T nized it. The woman was Marion Oakburn. E Of course Paxton was surprised at t finding Marlon alone at night in such a 0 dangerous locality. ^ But his curiosity and his detective In- ^ Btinct prompted him to follow her. t A few blocks further down the street, 6 the detective saw Marion pause before ?he door 01 a gloomy building. The cashier's daughter glanced about ^ as though she expected to meet some one, but she did not discover the detective, yrjio had promptly stepped back into the alley. a A moment elapsed, and, peering from n his hiding place, the deteotive's espion- f' age was rewarded by the appearance of b a man who came skulking stealthily along the street as though fearful of discovery, and joined Marion at the door. Tho girl gavo the man both her hands and seemed to greet him warmly. . The detective was so near that, as the man presently raieed his voico a trifle, F he h??rd hin? say: P "Come, let us enter the parlor. I have c much to say to you." . Thee they opened the door and disap- ^ peared within the house. Paxton remained where he was. ? He did not follow Marion and her companion into the house, for, as it was not . an ordinary public resort, ho deemed it advisablo to proceed with caution. ? A moment or so claused. and then the I detective 6aw a faint light reflected through the opening between the blinds T of a couple of windows in the side of the ? building fronting the alley. He glided to the nearest window, 8 thinking it might be the window to the , little back parlor mentioned by the man f who had met Marion Oakburn. *' Paxton hoped to see and hear more of * the parties who had just entered the { house, but as he reached the window * heavy inside curtains were drawn, and he was unable to see anything, neither could he hear a word. There was no help for it, and so the B detective waited patiently in the alley f for Marion and her companion to reap- 1 pear on the street. ... , - At tne expiration 01 nail an nour, c perhaps, the door through which the y subject of Paxton's surveillance had en- { tered opened, ana tney came out. i A brightly burning gas-jet in the hall, ' which must have been lighted since they entered the place, reflected a brilliant light upon the couple as they stood for a moment in the open door addressing some remarks to a person within. For two minutes Paxton scrutinized the face of Marion's companion under the glare of the gas light. Ho saw that the man was In disguise. The nest instant Paxton believed that he had made a great discovery. He saw a scar on the man's eyebiow, and from this as well as his general appearance, which corresponded with the general description given by Stuart Harland, the detective believed that Marion's companion was the suspected assassin of her father?the man called "Garnar" by Pratt & Weeks, who carried the skeleton keys and wax impressions in his overcoat pocket. Marion and her companion walked away, but at a neighboring corner they parted. But Paxton did not mean that the maD who had thus far evaded discovery and whom the most skillful of his agents had failed to "locate" should escape now. He bounded forward and seized his man. Uut, like a flash, the other wheeled and dealt the detectivo a blow that staggered li i rri Then the stringer darted away and vanished in a passago between two buildings. Paxton pursued, but he did not overtake or even sight him. Enraged with himself at his want of caution in attempting the arrest, and fully satisfied that he had a desperate man to deal with, Paxton retraced his steps. All thought of the business which had brought him to that locality was, for the time, banished from his mind, and ho hastened in the direction of Jason Garrison's office, hoping to intercept Marion Oakburn. Meanwhile, after parting with her mysterious companion, Marion hurried homeward. She had reached the door and was about to enter her home when Paxton overtook her. The detective had resolved upon a bold and determined course, and, gliding forward, ho placed his hand on Marion's arm. The girl turned with a frightened exclamation, and by reason of his disguise, she did not reoognize Paxton. "Who are you, sir?", demanded Ma? i -ion, as she Indignantly confronted the letective. "I am your friend, Miss Oakburn, and : am seekinp to discover your father's issassin. Tell me who the man was vhom you met to-night, and who es? saped me?" Marion leaned against the door and ler form trembled with agitation, but ihe did not speak. "Will you not answer me?" persisted Paston. Still Marion was silent. Paxton became impatient. "I will tell you who the man you met 9. He is Donald Wayburn!" he cried, uddenly. "I am Gerald Paxtoc," ha wlded. He sought to nurprise Marion Into lome confirmation of hia statement, if it vns the truth. "I believe tnat man is your muier a nurderer. Miso Oakburn, I warn you hat the time has come when you should explain the causo of your mysterious :onduct since your father's death. You ire venturing into peril, it may be. Will rou not save yourself! Will you not ,ru6t me ?" the detective continued, aa Marion made do sign in confirmation of lis statement that her reoent companion'fl lame was Donald Wayburn. "What is there in my conduct that you egard as mysterious?" said Marion at ast. "This night meeting. Your having flven your inheritance to Judith Kredge. tour positive declaration that Harland s an innocent man," replied Paxton. "You wroDg me cruelly. I can explain lothing; but, by my dead father's mem>ry, I swear that Donald Wayburn has 10 knowledge of my father's murder. 3e is innocent!" With these words she unlocked the Joor and entered the house. "Now, indeed, is my cup of misery illed to the brim. Too late I discover hat I have made a fatal mistake, but I :annot determine to abandon my pur >ose yet," thougnt Manon, as sne crepu o her roozd. Paxton made no attempt to detain tfarion, and as tlie evening was not far idvanced and he had concluded to ibandon the business which had taken lira out that night, for the present, ho >rocecded to visit certain shops devoted o tho sale of curiosities in the way of incicnt coins, weapons, and the like. In svery shop he exhibited the bullet which lad caused John Oakburn's death, and isked if they ever had a pistol which the >all would fit. In every instance tho detective revived a negative answer, until at last le entered a little shop whoso proprieor informed the detective that he had iold an ancient air pistol provided with iuch bullets as tho one Paxton exhibted. "Can you tell me the purchaser's laino?" asked Paxton, thinking a posiive clue to the solution of the mystery ras found at last. "I keep a memorandum of purchasers' lames and addresses when, instead of aking the goods with them at the timo f the sale, they order them to be sent iome. I believe I wrot* the name of he man who bought the air pistol in my iook. lee, nere it is," answered tne hopkeeper. "Read it?" cried Paxton breathlessly. There -was a surprise in store for him e little dreamed of. CHAPTER XVI. The proprietor of the curiosity shop id not share the detective's exciteaent, and he very deliberately read the ollowing memorandum from his order* ook: May 8th, 18?, John Qakburn, No? Wall Street, City, One ancient air pistol $8. Tn hn dAltvered to-day. The name of the murderod man was he very last one the detective anticipated hearing announced as that of the purchaser of the air pistol, and he was ompletely surprised. Paxton hod entertained the hope that he fatal bullet which had occasioned he death of John Oakburn would serve ,s an important clue in tracing the unortunate man's assassin. From the first it had been the deective's purpose to trace the weapon f death to the assassin, by moans of he bullot. Now the purpose of the man-trailor ras no longer possible to be executed, ,nd the hope which the possession of he death-missile had given him was dotroyod. "So John Oakburn was murdered with lis own weapon. The assassin probably ound the weapon in the ofllcc and use?! t to kill Oakburn, very possibly, with he Intention of perplexing the invesigator, should the weapon be traced," hought the detective. He recalled to mind the fact that no ine had mentioned having ever seen uch a weapon ns the sir-pistol in the lossession of John Oakburn, and as a lew idea entered his mind he cried: "I have it! The srrange weapon with vhich Oakburn was murdered formed lie of his collection of curious, ancient veapons. "The assassin had opened the old cash er's little safe, robbed it, and secured he air-pistol when he heard Oakburu soming. The wretch bad discovered that ,he pistol was loaded and r. ady for use. le used it to kill his victim because it nade no sound." Paxton was (satisfied with this theory. On this very evening, while Paxton vas visiting the curiosity shop, Levi iredge was on his way to visit his sister. The treacherous scoundrel had takec ;he alarui, and he was thoroughly on hii [utrd. From the evening when Paxton had ihadowed him to the office of Pratt & Weeks, Levi Kredge had experienced he keenest anxiety for his personal tafety. "They are on my trail! Do they susject the truth?" he asked himself over md over again. For the present he did not visit Pratt fe Weeks, for the wily brokers had instructed him not to do so. Levi Kredge met his sister in the rear >f Garrison's office by appointment, and :he moment Judith saw his face she ;new that he was troubled. "What is it Lovi; you look frightened?" said Judith. "I am frightened, Judith; the detectves are shadowing me day and night." "Is that a fact!" cried Judith, starting. "Yes. They surely have some su3Dicion against me." "What do you fear?" "You know well enough, 1 foar I shall 3e charged with John Oakburn's murier." "That should not alarm you. You lidn't kill the old man." "No, that's a fact. But there arc circumstances against me, Judith, of which you do not know." "Ah, you have secrets from your afci'c+nr oh?" "I tell you I fear I shull yet bo placed In peril of my life, on .account of John Qakburn's murder." "If it comes to that, I'll save yon. I'll point out tho real assassin, and prove that person's guilt." After this, they conversed at some length, but they discussed personal affairs, of no interest to our readers. Paxton's faithful auxiliary, whose duty it was to track Kredgo, overheard this jonversation, for he haid not neglected to track the janitor on this occasion. The detective agent repeated what he iad overheard of the conversation just recorded to his principal. This intelligence seemed, at the first eiew. tg. overthrpw the detective'*' theory of the guilt of Kredge. Paxton was not yet ready to admit Kredge was cot the assassin or his complice, and he thought: "Kredge may have been concerne the crime, and Judith be ignorant ol fact." One point, however, seemed et lished. Judith Kredge was sincei believing she could produce enoug procure the conviction of some one, was not Stuart Harland. The perplexing complications mysteries with which the case abou: would have confused a non-professi< but Paxton saw his way clear. His step was Indicated by the intellig he had just received. Judith Kredge must be compelle reveal the knowledge of the crime -w she was concealing. Tn annnmnlloti fhla PftTt/in TftRf to arrest Levi Kredge and charge with John Oakbum's murder. He meant to thoroughly frig Kredge, and lead them to believe the danger of conviction, as Oakbi assassin, was imminent, and he cou on Judith keeping her promise am vealing what she claimed to k thinking only by such a course c Levi be saved. But meanwhile, during the time c pied by Paxton in making the invea tions recorded, the Grand Jury had a session. Stuart Harland's case been considered, and a true bill wa turned against him. Stuart Earland had endured his prisonment bravely. Edna Garrison was an almost Btant visitor to his cell, and the hr lied young man was cheered and tained by her unfailing devotion. Harland's attorney was a shrewd 6UCC08S1U1 criminal lawyer, ana i Stuart had positively answered that the real truth regarding the m< for his visit to Albany on the nig] the crime could not be told under circumstances, he said: "I will not question your motive we must invent some plausible del <xr von are loRfc " "What, resort to falsehood?" dem ed Stuart. "A story must be told to accoun your midnight journey. Listen tc I have made a study of the case, hero is what you must say when yoi broueht to triaL "lour aunt, whose prospective you are said to be, resides in Alt Very good. You made your miai journey to visit her. "Somo one had informed you tha first train in the morning would AVooks to Albany to sec your aun whom ho meant to reveal that you become Involved in stock gamblin the extent of tea thousand dollars. "You had obtained a sight of your for one thousand dollars, whioh you given the scoundrel, and when you it had been raised to ten, you I Pratt and "Weeks meant to swindle aunt. a4-sv/vl* fKn mMniirhf IUU e?UUUj IW? Wiu iuluu.iju. . in order to see your aunt and ex] matters before Weeks came. "You did not tell tho truth at the C ncr's inquest, becauee to do so w have been to lead to the betrayal ol person who had warned you of We intention of visiting Albany, on morning following the night of tho der. That person was a young c John Sand by name, employed by 1 it Weeks, and the sole support < wldowod mother and invalid sister. "You knew that if it came out thi had warned you, he would be discha by Pratt ? Weeks. In that event, thought the helpless ones dependent his salary for support might si T1 Is consideration prevented your in^ the betrayal of your friend by ing tho iruth. Besides you will add you did not at the time of your e: ination fully realize huw great peril was." |to BE C0KTI5Crt?.] ' FISHING FOR SARDINES. The Catching, Killing:, and Cannli I liese LiDecioaa r iau, The sardine fishing is 'low in swing. Toward the end of April fishermen begin to watch for ihe bling of the sardines on the surfa< the sea. For they know that vast sL of the little fish are on their way ni and they must be caught, if at al they pass. When anyone sees the w agitated word spreads rapidly, and boats put out from the shore and for the shoal. When the net is extended the w is "baited" by throwing balls "roque" into it As the bait dissc and sinks the sardines remain to ni it, and their doom is sealed. For reason "roque" is a most impor pa.l t Ul lUC oaiuiuc uouvi u?u? m It is made of the eggs of mackerel codfish mixed with clay, and is ra expensive, costing from $5 to $: barrel. Within the curing factories or neries everything is bustle and cc sion, for there must not be a mom* delay in cleaning the fish. All r long the work is carried on by the 1 of blazing oil wicks. The sardines spread out on tables or benches, w salt is dusted over them. Then women go along and snip off the h with great scissors. The little flat boxes so well kno\* commerce are taken one by one filled from the glistening pile of after which pure olive oil from province of Bari, In Italy, is po over them and the tops soldered < In the meantime a great kettle o1 water has been raised to the bo point ready for the real operatio " * 'ni. ? c'ooking toe nsn. jlul* seuniu uuaci thrown into it and left for two or t hours. If any oil appears on the of the water the master work knows that some can has not been j erly soldered, and the loss is cha up to the man who did the worL srood workmen will not lose more two or three boxes in 100. The Mohammedan fanaticism w prompted the outbreak of the Bedo at Jeddah in the assault upon the ropean consular representatives, 01 count of tlie sanitary measures u for the care of the Pilgrims to Meet likely to serve an excellent purpos the interest of (.'hirstian civilizatJo Armenia. Until this assault occu the Sultan had plausible reasons fo position in declining foreign inte ence in the government of his C tinn provinces; but this is such a rant insult to the representatives ol three Governments?Itussia, Fr; and England?that his turbaned mi ty will quickly be brought to a ization of the necessity of taking i action as will relieve the Christiar Turkey from the intolerable tyrs! to which they have been subjected on the united demand of these doy Natural Gnu Collapsing. It is estimated that at thb present rat Jon*umption the natur.il ga-s belt ol Ind will be exhausted in four years. SS FUTURE FASHIONS. ac GLIMPSES OP COMING STYLES ? IN WOMEN'S GARMENTS. t the itab- The Reign of the Big Sleeve Is N01 :e in Yet Over?New Bodices?Louis ;h to XVI. Hats Revived? Novw^? elty In Parasols. and tided ly LTUOUOtH it is asserted nov 5naJ' Z\ fln<* ^en ^&t reiSn ? next J^\ the large sleeve will soon b< enoe ^ - 0YeT) ajj Qf newe81 ^ French dresse3 have immense sleeve?. 'hlch leg-o'-mutton, however, except or jackets, seems quite to have disap>lved peared, the forearm part being quite him distinct from the puff, and made verj tight. Four or five buttons, witl loops, fasten the sleeve at the wrist, an(l when unbuttoned allow the arm irn s , . nted in8ress and egress. In many cases j re_ the sleeves this summer are short tc now, the elbow, the arms being covered jould with long gloves. A charming toilet by Felix, o] >ccu- Paris, which has recently come over, tiga- certainly shows no diminution of tht hel<J sleeves. It is of the pretty Dresder 1 patterned taffetaB so much in vogut 9 re" this year?a white ground sprinkled ;m. with yellow buttercups. A broac corslet of pale green satin confines con- the waist, which has a large bow of mer- erreen ribbon to match at the side. sus- with long ends. The blouse waist is full, and is fastened under the arms *nd and finished with a green satin collar, him most ornate Part of the dress be?tive ing the sleeves, which have two it of double ruffles of buttercup yellow any chiffon superadded to the balloon puffs of the silk, which come only to the el* , but bow. The upper part of the sleeve ense haa the fullness held down by epau. lettes of the green satin, from which aQ " puff out the ruffles of the chiffon ; on t for the top of each epaulette is a bow of , me, green satin. It is altogether a very and striking-looking costume. 1 are The majority of the new bodices seem to have the opening under the beir arm wjth the fullness of the material iany. light take raw : the \ib 5 .>5# *? ?t a HATS AND BONNETS ] it he pieated into the waist in front?a S\o-a mos^ becoming fashion to a slender Up0n fignre. Another popular way of cut.#<>. tine the waist lately is to have a very risk- square pouch-like effect in front, the tell- folds turned up an even line, and tbaf showing a deep waistband. Tliis style tarn- gives a still more slender look to the youl hips; in fact, everything is done tc make the bodice broad and fluffy as possible and the hips and waist small. Amateur dressmakers will do well to remember these rnles?Bhoulder sloping, sleeves very wide and short, >c oi bodice full and a great deal trimmed, waist well defined and hips fitted perfull fectly smooth. Whatever the design the or cut of a fashionable gown of the bub- season, these should be the character:e of istics. io&ls Braiding and silk embroidery are jrth, coming into use, and are 6een on some 1, as of the most stylish costumes. One ater dreBS of fine Endora has an apron I the front, braided inelaborate arabesques. raco Th? nnffs. which extend to the elbows. are covered with embroidery, and the ater vest is similarly finished. The collar i of and revers are perfectly plain. dvee FASHIONS IN SHOES. ltan't No toilet is complete for the summei jtfit plenty of pretty shoes. The an(j snmmer belle should have her evening ^er shoes to match all dresses, and in them 15 a even an can mfl^e looking. There is a fascinating glace kid jast now, which comes in each ' delicate tints as eau de Nil, and these in V are ornamented with the smallest pos2.n? sible rosettes. f g* There is much diversity in satin g evening shoes. Some of them are em1 are broidered with jewels and pailettes on ?re the instep and are laced up above this jl6 in an open fashion, which allows the eads stocking to be seen, while supporting the foot, doing away with all fear thai n t(j in dancing they may slip off. ancl Many have straps over the inBtep, fisk' and buckles are important; nearly every shoe displays them, but for uret^ evening they are used very small. 5n- The brown shoes are darker now f hoi an(j brown glace kid has almost banMnfi ished any other; it keeps well in orn 01 der and does not need tiresome clean5 ar ing. This class of shoe is to be had in hree every variety?plain, laced and buttop toned; it is singularly inexpensive. maL' A Grecian 6lipper for indoors 01 irop dressing slippers in tan, scarlet or rged gray are charming, and of late a new " -A baby shoe has been brought out in than French kid and patent leather, with a strap across the instep, which is a vast improvement on the old model. hich ujns LIN'S BUTTONS AND SENfiT STUDS. Eii- Studs for the summer girl's waisi i ac- are shown in great variety. They are iken 6old in sets of three, attached to a fine a, is gold chain. For the sentimental se in young woman there are heart-shaped in in gold studs, with a tiny seed-pearl in rrod the centre. Others show a very small r his green garnet, incased in gold, while rfor- still others are of white enamel, decoliris rated in gold to match the link cuff flair- buttons. The most elaborate of these f the are of gold studded with jewels. The ance white and gold effects, with rococo xjf?s- decorations cost 812. Silver link cuff roai- buttons cater to all tastes. The young such woman devoted to Yale may fasten her is in cuff's this summer with link buttons of inny silver showing a blue enameled flag on ( Up- which a "Y" in white enamel is confers. epicuous. REVIVAL OF THE LOUIS XVI. HAT. lo of More and more are Parisian women ioua adopting the fashion of Louis XVI. in hats which aT? loaded, or rather over loaded, with flowers, bows and osprejs ,\ A LOUIS 2YI. HAi. i and soft folds of lace or gauze. Sorat i made for sliade Lave a floating scarf ol I fine tulle or other delicate fabric, I which renders a veil unnecessary. 5 Wings for trimming are wider, and ! spread themselves out toward the sides, where folded ribbons and clusi ters of flowers are massed, and large upstanding loops of broad taffeta ribbon rear themselves. For bonnets, toques and smaller forms of millinerj a high aigrette is placed to one side, and a coronet passes across the brow, i These coronets are formed of large flowers, pompons of straw, or choux of quilted gauze or baby ribbons, and with them bonnets and hats in simph . good taste are made, which contrast pleasantlv with the vulgarity of pres' ent fashions in general. The hair to suit all these hats ii worn in a soft fringe or else waved, while the knot i behind is arranged in Henry IT. or 1830 style. Some few fashionable women have adopted the waved Sm FOR MIDSUMMER WEAR. bandeaux a la jolie femme, bat tbis makes its wearers look old, and it is exceedingly difficult to find hats or bonnets which go well with it. i A NOVELTY IN PARASOLS. 1 ?"oremost among tne accessories ot ! the Parisian toilet, the sunshade has * assumed a position of importance 1 which hitherto it has hardly possessed, and is being improved upon to its yet ereat advancement with all orn ultimate refinements of taste. In fact, the parasol, now of immense size, of graceful shape, in delicate-hued silks, and its soft drapings, is only to b( .- St SUNSHADE LIKE A BIG PLOWER. , compared to some huge flower rising upon its stem, and is to be seen in all ! possible colors?red, violet, straw, ( peach, carnation pink and cornflower , blue, or blue pain de sucre, as it used ^fKaf. 4a nr?a? I>\J UO CttllCU, iO buc WUll/i wuuu *w MW ? in favor, and despite its hard, cmde aggressiveness and almost unbearable . offense to the eyes, it is to be seen on . all hands and is worn by everybody. COLLARS OP LACE AND CHIFFON. Style can afford to be simple. The . best skirts are cut quite plain, and the sleeves show no tendency to increase i in dimensions. Probably the limit was reached last winter in this direction. Many of the season's dresses have immense falling collars of laoe or chiffon, straying out to either side over the shoulders, even to the utteri most limits thereof. These epaulettes , accompany quite frequently the high ; choker or stock collar, which hat held its own so long. FAVORITE COLORS. Among the favorite colors of the i season are brown of all shades, yellow, gray?which, by the way, is for the moment simply a rage in some of the ultra fashionable circles of London?heliotrope, blue and light shades of green. There is a green, with a suggestion of rose, that is exceedingly eliective when well handled. Red is used to some extent, and is very popular for fancy waists, provided it is becoming to the wearer. LACE GREATLY USED, The whole world of fashion continues to be draped, interwoven and veiled with lace. Shawls and flounces that have been snugged away in lavender for years may be brought forth with propriety aud impunity now. Statistics have succeeded in proving that lack of money is the chief cause of suicide in France. 2?r .! THE COST OF JOY. 9 : The cost of jcy is joy; for in the sea jB ' A brook no longer may an idler be; at The ocean lifts her ships and bears then) % 8fi on *' Our sweet old hillside tronbadonr is gone. <?HH The cost of joy is joy; June brings tne rose; Jg'jflf But clod in tears the violet springtime goes, The rose of passion with her hot, red breath Is love's first silent messenger to death. ' 'jB9| The cost of joy is joy; suns fright the moon, "ttflj The rainbow hope dissolves in truth's high To-day costs yesterday in heart and brain? AjflH Immortal life, the sum of earthly gain. 9 ?Martha Q. Dickinson, in Independent. B PITH AND POINT. fl Sour grapes never induces appen (Ileitis.?.Fuck. ? The root of all evil is notorious for ? its flowers of perennial beauty.? fl "Why did you ask the Boston girl to go with us?" "It's such a hot ;3^9 When a man is down at the heel he ' is apt to go up on the toe when he 9 ^ oalls on his old friends.?Truth. fl Ethel?"But mamma, it?it tastes ? I awful." Mrs. Uptodate (encourag- ,'^M ingly)?"There, there, Ethel 1 Take 9 it like a little man."?Judge. 9 Prospective Boarder?"Do you have 9 good milk?" Snmmer Landlord? m ' 'Do we! Why this place is only forty ? r minutes from the city."?Life. The man who is continually picking ; ^Hj at the mote in the eye of his neighbor will sooner or latter look upon him- V* self as a moral oculist.?Washington ! Carrie?"Of course, I couldn't avoid 9 hearing part of the conversation." I Clara?"Xo; and what a pity you were M not able to hear the rest of it!"? V "So you like him?" "Yes. He I did me the greatest fafor one man oan fl do another." "What was that?" -.9 "He married my homely daughter." , The great rival to the man who rocks I the boat has appeared in the citizen I who pays no attention to the "no S smoking" sign in the fireworks store. I wasnmgion otar. Husband?"Gee! It's hot! Can't --A-'we have some lemonade, dear?" Wife ' ? "I'm sorry, but it takes all the t lemons I can buy to keep my light, tan shoes clean!"?Truth. The Husband (seeing his wife off)? "You must promise not to ask for money every time you write." The ? Wife?"But that would necessitate my writing so much oftener."?Life. After a couple haa been married five years their wedding gifts have more ' than doubled in value because of the p. freight paid on them in shipping them around from to town.?Atchison Globe. U First Sojurner?"Do you always J . get your meals on time here!" Sec- 4 ond Sojurner?''Yes, I have to, till 1 i some of my friends show up. I am / .J deucedly glad to see you."?Boston .] Courier. "Is this the smoking car?" anxious- ( j ly inquired an old lady at the Albany station. "No, Madame," replied the , polite young man standing on the car; "you'll find the smoker on two , cars ahead."?Pack. i Customer?"You give light weight ! That pound of evaporated peaches you sold me did not weigh over three- * guarters." Dealer?"Well, mum, I didn't warrant em nut w gu uu ci?y) orafcin'."?New York Weekiv. ; "But, papa," pleaded the impassioned maiden, "he is the only man I ]ove." ''That's right," replied the brutal old man; "I am glad that a daughter of mine does not love more than one man at a time." ? Household Words. "I am in receipt of a princely income," said the suitor for Miss Coolcash's hand. "Better state figures, young man," replied Mr. Coolcash; "the last prince who proposed for Miranda had to borrow his steamship ) fare home when she refused him.* [ Life. A Considerate Servant. A young lady, lately and happily married, has a literary man for a husband, who does all his work at home. It is very good work, and pays well. Recently they got a new servant, a buxom German girl, who proved her * 3 X- A.I self happy, ana also seemea 10 ta&u ? . deep interest in the affairs of the young couple. Of course she saw the husband about the house a good deal, bat her mistress was not prepared for the following: "Ogscuse me, Mrs. Blank, but I like to say somedings." , "Well, Rena?" The girl blushed, fumbled her apron, stammered, and then replied: "Yell, you pay me twenty-five shillings a mont?" "And I can't pay any more," said the mistress, decisively. "It's not dot," responded the girl; J "but I be willing to take twenty till? 1 ?till your husband gets work."? ' Household Words. 1 How New Tories Streets Are Lit. ( New York is lighted by 25,123 gas . lamps and 2723 electric lights. This , illumination begins at present at 7.39 o'clock every evening, and continues | till 3.15 o'clock in the morning. The hour for lighting and extinguishing the lights is regulated ac1 * - - 1 il. ~4- 4.1,^ COrillBg TO [ue leugiu <jl mc ui^uio, In the course of a year each gas lamp 1 burns for a total of 4000 hour;?. Tha electric lights burn for 3'J50 hoursan! ntially. The estimated cost of lighting the city streets this year will bo $930,000. ' The city has more street lights in J use to-day and in preparation than ever before.?New York Sun. \ Misdirected E,rgs. There have been many stories told within the last few days about ViceChancellor Bacon; there is said to bo only one to tell about tho lato ViceChancellor Malins. When that most r excellent and well-meaning man was ' on a certain occasion pelted with eggs v*i- _.i ?+! >?? Willie UUIUIUISLVI lug JUWV1, i;n 1 bench, by a discontented suitor, ho observed, after committing the offender, that he had probably mistaken the court, sinco the eggs must cer1 taiuly have been intended for Bacon. ?London World. ^ -A "*T~ 'tiicjBMI