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A >.aoue tory. ' " We leave the wintry woods, and stand Beside the old gray *411; "Good"bje; Ii,Ipd clasps me hand And lea 'ss a-t i it dhi. T him a walk 'neath cloudy skies, The oareless mirth of friends; !b me, a'g pse of Paradise That ali too surely ends. Wny need Z, standing in my room, Recall bls'partin| words? Why dream of flowers and summer blooni, And minstrelsy of birds? I know that act a thought of me Shall fill hib beart to night, Yet, a. the moonbeams on the sea O'er me he oasts a light. His are thosunby ways of life, The blosiom and the vino; The thorn the struggle and the strife, The aching heartare mine. in his a happy gra$O and ease, A welcome freshness dwells, That bids me dream of highland breeze Across the heather bells. I built my oastle but on- sand, I know t.soon will fall; A gay -geb' bye, a clasping hand, A snfle-and this is all. A winter sunbeatn iaint and pale That bends the snow to kises; A winter blossom. small and frail My hope 3s only. .this, BRAVE JAOK. "I'l go and try my' fortune ,witl Uncle'Robert," said Jack. "Bess an< Maria faied because he could not stant girls with such fine ideas; but I won' trouble hibn that way. The old fellov is all right if one'only stirs him up 1i the right way." "My child " said the gentle Mrs Ravmond. "' do not like to hear yoi speak In that boyish, rude manner. fear your uncle would have less pationc with you than your sisters. No he doe not intend t" forgive me, and we wil make no furtner advances." "Oh, yes we will, deariel" and Jack' curly Read buried, itself in the mother'i shoulder, coaxingly. "Do let, me tr; to win the obstinate old-well there th?u-to whi our honored relative to i proper sense of his obligations towar his only sister and her interestin) family. How will that do, eh? Now mother, don't shake your head so; it' no use. Why did you give te a boy' name and bring me tli on tops ani marbles if ypn want me to be a rea girl?" "It was your father's wish, yoi know, dear. He was so grievously die appointed that he had no son. Bu Jackuellne is not a boy's name," an Mrs. Raymond shook her head smiling ly at her wayward daughter. "No, but Jack is; and I'm neve called anything else," that young lad: replied, triumphantly, with an obstin ate little shake of the jetty curls tha gave such piquancy to her brjght face "If father were only here he would le me try anything that would take th burden from off your shoulders, and now that he is dead, uncle must surel; forgive you for marrying against' hi wishes. What right had lie to hav wishes anyhow?" . "IHe was my onlf living relative ani guardian," answered Mrs. Raymond who, tas always ready to excuse lie brother's harsh treatment. "Well, mother, do let me go 'beari the lion In his den, the Douglas in i hall,' " said Jack, gayly. "You kno we murst do something, for wve can ge no work of any kind in 'this place though we've trled so faithfully." "Well, go, my dear, and I.shall pra for your - uccess," sa,id -the gent! mother. Mr. Rloberti Dorani sat cowering be side a dull, spiritless fire one brigh morning. Hish room~ was dusty and di ordered, though Its .furnishing wa good and even luxurious. HIe looke' moody and discontented, as if th wealth that showed itself -in the hand some surroundings brought no pleasur to -its owner. Perhaps he was thinkin; of the sister who had once made eui shine in .the' now gloomy home, an( wished that his i>ride wvould let him bei hecr to come back and earo for him I, Ils dreary old age. A tap at the (leer aroused him. "Who is It? he demanded, in suir irise, for his servants never came un summ~oned. The door opened slowly and a brighi face q>eepppui. "It'a Jick Raymond, at your service uncle," and in the' venturesome gir walked and stood before him. She wore a long ulster, closely but toned to tihe throat, wvhere a standli collar and a' neat black tie showec themselves, while on the short, gloss) -curls was a jaunty "Derby," gtfilties: >f- any trimming save the simple mas. culine barnd. "Why, 'I didn't know my sister hia a sonl" exclaimed the old gentleman, his wrinikled face showing somethiin very like satisfaction as he looked at th< new corner. "She hiasn't," said Jack, with danc ing eye; "but it isn't my fault, I d( my best.. I'm awfully sorry I'm not boy, uncle, if it would please you; but let me stay awhile and you'll see whiat a first-class substitute I am," remnovin her hat and bowing with easy grace, 4'But, dear mel howv dull it is here Your Iird Wabts a good stirring up!" And seizing the l)oker she attacked the coals in the grate with an energ3 that seemed to, imp)ly that she would like to treat him in the same fashion. A bright blaze followed her vigoroui action, dancing on' the walls and show ing thue bright liues of pictures and fur. niture, despite the dust that covered them,. bringing a cheery look, too, oven to Mr. D)oratn's grim face. "Thuerei" saidI Jack, giving a last ap. proving p)oke, "that's botter. Now, ii I just open this wvindow and let in thei sunshine, so-"' suiting the action t( the wordl-"you'll feel as bright as e spring noniing;". The girl wvas like a May-dayr herself liutt"ring around-the room as if waftex by invisible breezes, her bright face th< embodhnent of suanshine; and as th<i lonely old man watched her light fingeru bringing order out of confusion that had reigned- so *lng, a quizzical smiki dlawned on his face. "For a woid-be 3boy you seem t( know a good deal about such things,' he remarked, dryly.' "T[hat's the mother-part of mei "'sai( Jack, as she "settled" the chakrs and furniture with a touch that egly woman has. Tha she ameands sam dow on foot-stol beside him, and"clasping her knee with both hands, looked up With smiling audacity, saying: You'd better let me stay awhile, uncle; you'd be a great deal more comfortable." There was deep anxiety beneath the merry exterior, for she know well how vital her unclels favor was. Her mother -was too delicate, her sisters too fine ladies to work, and the child (she was ' not' much more, in spite of her seven teen years) felt as though the burden of the family rested on her shoulders. Her uncle was very wealthy, and if he only could be brought to forgive her mother, what happy days they would see! i He had sent once for her two sisters to spend a week at Glenside-a- step to. .ward reconciliation which her mother had hailed with thankful joy. But be fore the week was out he sent them both home, saying he couldn't stand their fine airs; that, since his sister had ch'osen to bring up her family to such idle habits, he would have nothing to do with theim. The one longing of the old man's heart had boon for a son to bear his name. That hope disappointed in the early death of his son he had gradually grown up into the- selfish, gloomy' man Jack found him this fair spring morn ing. There was something in her bright i boyish face that fascinated him; and i now, with a warmth that surprised b himself, lie said: "Stay if you like, my. child. It's a dull place within doors; but there are flowers and sun ishine." It was so much kinder than Jack had dared hope that she could have cried L for joy. "Oh, you dear uncle!" she said and a kissed his wrinkled old face with an i honest heartiness that he was quick to feel. 9 "There, then," he said, Impatiently, 9 as if ashamed of the unwonted softness he had shown. "Go and tell cook you're going to stay, and that she must t give you a room and see to your meals. i Do not be afraid if she's cross," he add g ed, somewhat anxiously; "she does not like trouble or work." S "I won'f;," said Jack, as she rah off. B Halfi a., hour later she looked in the i door again saying: i "Come to lunch, Uncle Robert." "Yes," as he started at her in amaze i ment. . "I know cook always brought you t just what she liked up here because she did not want you down stairs. There - has been a skirmish, but it's all i'ight now. , Come for ny sake, please." r Mr. Doran drew his dressing-gown r more closely around him, and followed - Jack down into the small breakfast t room, which she had chosen because it was so much pleasanter than the great t oak wainscoted dining-room. s A most tempting lunch. was spread 10upon the round table, and flowers were y intermingled with the dishes in profu s sion. It was pretty to see the air with o which she led her uncle to his place, then took her own opposite him-to 1 satisfy the demands of her own healthy , young appetite. r "Did cook do all this?" Mr. Doran asked, with some curiosity. I "No," replied Jack, blushing. "She s wanted to take you up some smoky r soup, and because I said no, she t wouldn't do anything else, so I did it ,myself, Don't you like It all?" and sha looked anxiously at him. y "You are not like your sisters," lhe C) saidl, not replying to her question. "Oh, no!"aand Jack shook her head - somewhat dejectedly. "They are vety t accomplished-real young ladies, 'you - know. But, then, I can cook and i sweep, and do things that they can't." I "But I do not want a cook and a a housemaid," said Mr. Doran. - "I think you do," laughed Jack. "If you had only tasted the soup!" "Child!" cried Mr. Doran, suddenly - catching at her hand, "I'm a disap i pointsd, heart-broken old man. If you could only love me a little-" "I do, uncle IRobert; I do, truly!" Ssaid Jack. And she meant it; for her warm heart - had gone out at oiico to the lonely old man,'- so uinhappy In the midst of his wealth; and she comforted him' now, in Sthe best way she knew, with loving words that, skeptic as lie was, lie felt were honest and truo. A l "I fear master be a-goin' to die; lie wor never so gentle aforo, said cook, a - week later. That very night Mr. Doran Was taken tsuddenly and violently ill. Jack heard his groan)s, and, hastening to his assist I ance, found him suffering intensely. "You must go for the doctor, cook; there's no one else to go," said Jack. "Indeed I'll not," replied cook, de cisively. "iIe's been none so good a masiter to me that I should risk iniyself in the dark for him. "Then watch him while I go," im plored Jack. "Do not leave him or he'll die.'' She had been doiwn to the village once on an errandi for her uncle, and know she could find her way,'but it was so different inow, at nigiit. Brave Jack for going! B3ut how her heart fluttered a-nd her limbs quivered with fear as she hastened on through the starlight. Thle way seemed interminable, but at last the few lights which yet burned In the village shone out close at hand, and one part of her journey'was over. Chiesney was one of .the most unfor tunate villages, witih houses so pain fully simijar that a straiiger might well wonder how each -inhabitant knew hits own home. Little wonder, then, that Jack, after much uncertain pausing be fore various doors, should at last decide upon the wrong one. She rapped gently, then listened. ,A Sfootfall soundedl on the pavement, a hand was 'on the gate, and-yes--the steps were coming toward her, swiftly, certainly. She drew herself close to the side of the porch, almost fainting with terror, when a hand outstretched touched her arm, and a voice exclaimed: . "Who are you? Speak! Who comes so late to my door?" .Gathering her courage with one last effornt Jack fainitly repliedl: "I want Dr. jfRobblns. My uncle Doran is very ill dt Glenside." "And have. you come alone from Glenside, poor child ?" the voice in quired. '"Yes, sir," she said, Impatiently. 'Buit you are the doctor9 Wil you hurry?" Uncle may be dying now, I have been so long in coming." . The -poor girl had hurried till she was almost exhausted, and stood lean ing bteothlessly and panting against the door. "The doctor lives two houses beyond. f< Shall .1 go with you and call him?" - f h1ut there was no response, for poor oY Jack who had never in her life done al anything so womanish, fainted quietly gi away. She was only dimly conscious of be- tr Ing lifted in strong arms that hold her, I close, and of being rapidly driven over v a rough road, and at last finding her- d4 solf lying on her own bed at Glenside, ec with a gray-haired gentleman bending l ov'er her. She started up pale and an- h zious. , g "Where 18 uncle?" she cried. "I a must go to him." ai "No, uo, child. Lie still; he is bet. fe ter," the doctor said."b " Well, then, tell me all about it. ea Who was it, and how did I get home?" to The doctor knew what she lmeant. i "You were at the minister's door, w and he (coming home from visiting a a sick parishioner) carried you, when you 01 fainted, to my house; and I drove you h both over here. Now drink this; then, nl if you feel able, you may go to your eY uncle--he wishop to see you." Jack obediently swallowed the F strengthening potion, then smoothed ei out the tangled curls with her hands. p and, without stopping to look in her i mirror, hastened to her uncle% rtm. lk He was not alque; for by his bedside sat h a grave, pleasant-faced young gentle- w man, who looked at her with kindly, d smiling eyes. She gave him but a ti hasty glance, tor her uncle's hand was b outstretched to her, and she ran to take g it. . i "And this is the brave girl who went i1 two mil9s though the dark night to J1 bring fielp to her cr6ss old uncle," he n said. "I know all about it, dear. .I a would have died if the doctor had not hl 'come so soon. You saved me. What h reward can I give you dear child?" 'T "Forgive my mother," whispered rz Jack, softly. . e Mr. Doran's face brightened. ri "I was sure you would say that," he cried. "Jack, dear, I have forgiven ti her already, and as soon as it is morn- d lng the minister here Is going for her. N Do you think she will forgive me and d come? She must come and stay, for I U can never let you go, Jack - dear, a brave Jack! You have taught m.e a d lesson." e And lie drew the blushing happy face o down and kissed it with all a father's g tenderness. There were tears in the bright eyes ti when she. looked up, For the second tl time within a few hours Jack forgot b her manliness and was crying. But Of the tears and blushes gave a softness a and charm to her face that made it lt wonderfully attractive to Malcolm u Boyd, the young minister, and shelook- 0 ed so sweet and lovable and wvomanly dl that lie felt an almost irresistible in- n cliuatlon to take her to his heart. 0 "She will be a woman worth the hav- tl ing," he thought; and then and there b resolved to win her-for his own. a Jack had meant to make some pretty a speech to the minister, to thank )iin n for helping her; but she only remember- sl ed now howv she had felt his arms hi around her in the starlight, and, blush- 1h ing, she hung her head In silence. Thiat was two months ago. She b smiles now when she thinks of it, for n she is no longer shy with the minister, 54 Can you guess why? s Mr. Doran Is building a beautitul b little parsonage close by the village a church, and rumor says that when It is fi completed Jack wvill go there as the a minister's bride. Perhaps It Is so, for Ic she is growing so quiet and womanly " that her happy mother, who Is renew- e' ig her own youth in beautiful Glen- kc side, says that God has doubly blessed Jack's venture. '0 Toadg. All children should know that toads o are not only entirely harmless, but are t among our best friends. They live on b and destroy thousands of ants, spiders, ci and the many bugs that in)jure our gar- fi denis. In 'France they are considered ti so valuable in gardens that they are hi sold at from fifteen to seventeen dollars si a hundred, or fifteen to twenty-five ci cents a piece. ui The great Duke of Wellington, many al years ago, found a little boy crying be- ir cause he had to go away' from home to r< school in another town, and there would ci be iio one to feed the toad wvhich lie was at In the habit of feeding every morning, hi and the noble-hearted Duke, sympathiz- 'I ing with his young friend, promised bi that lie would see that the toad was fed si every morning. This he did, and letter a1 after letter caine to this little boy from st Field Marshal, the Duke of Welling- ai ton, telling him that the toad was alive ei and wvell. . Half a tea'poonful of common salt Il dissolved in a little cold water and drunk will instantly relieve hieart- hi4 burn..e A druin.7i bolt.made fur a Lawrence I' cotton mill is a monster power trans- W mitter. it is 229 feet in length, double tl making 458 feet - of leather three fees k< wide, or 1874 square feet, Whien it Is ri remembered thst only about twelve ti square feet of the ordinary hide can be used In making belting, it may be hi calculated what a drove of cattle a( would be requirdd to produce this one iC belt. bl -Budd Doble brought eleven head of horses from California to Chicago wit.h him. The pacer Arrow, 2.14, is al among the number. Five of the re-c malmng ten are yearlings. They ate sc owned by W. H. Wilson, of Abdallah ci Park, Uynthiana, Ky., and are Senator bl Rose (brother to Le Grange, 2.23k), by st Sultan, dem Georgiana by Overland, of Ottoman, by Sultan, dam Montana ri Maid by George W ikes; The Turk, by a1 Sultan, dam Ida Elliott by Allie West ; .i Rio Gran'de, by Sultan, dam Wiggle u! Waggle by P ompter, and Piacifioc h Slope (brcether to Sunny Blope, 2,29{), le by Sultan, dam Dido by' Hiatoga.' Tk a remaining five are 8 and 4-year-old p the roperty of Captain Cole, of Ca - i Trne, and are cnsignd to John ,~ y Tunr,o Piadlh(.t A PLUCKY MULE. ,unning the 'Gauntlet'of a Confodor. ate Canuonado. Sometimes the mule is called uuon r special service, requiring qualities r which he does not generally receive vdit. The lines were tightening )out Charleston when Admiral Dahl en's fleet began operations in the bar. r, and rendered it practicable for the oops on shore to advance with some )pe of being able to hold points pre. ously untenable. During the night a )tachment of the Tenth corps dislodg. La picket post on the eastern end of [orris island, and when daylight came td thrown up quite a formidable be. nning for a field work. But the place as within easy range of Fort Sumter id Battery Wagner, and every Con. derate gun that could be brought to ar began to drop shell into the little irthwork. It was thought that an at mpt was about to be made to carry io place by assault, and, while there ore men enough to hold it they were litt e short of - ammunition. - The ily jiteticable road was a niile and a %lf of hard, smooth sand beach, com gnded from end to end by the Confed ate batteries. But there was a combination' in the ederal camp that was equal to the nergency; namely, a fleet mule and a ucky driver. The mule Is mentioned .st, only because he has long sin e lcked his last kick but the driver if still survives, will acknowledge that ithout the mule he could not have )no what he did. It may be assured tat the mule had a good feed of oats )fore he was called upon to run the tuntlet, and possibly the driver, too, ay then have felt justified in fortify. ig the inner man. Be that as It may, Lst before noon a few boxes of ammu ition were thrown Into the lightest rallable wagon, and, after looking the irness over carefully, the driver took is seat in the shelter of the sand hills. he mule stood with his extensive ears iking aft and a wicked gleam in his to, as if the oats were beginning to so into his brain. "Good-by, boysl G'up, mule!" and te equipage started down through the ry sand to the hard level of the beach. [ule shook his head and executed a )mi-volt when he felt the damp sand rder his feet, but driver soothed him ith endearing words. It had not yet iwned upon the Confederates that the rpediti6n was intended for the relief the garrison. But presently the eam of intelligence was indicated ith a rush in the shape of a shell from o southeast angle of Sumter. It struck te water fairly in line, ricocheted, and arst over in the marsh; but It was the gnal for action. Up went the whip, ad the mule gathered his mighty hind gs under him. For a moment it was acertain whether he was going to kick run, but a few remarks from the river convinced him that there was d tand for forward movement, so he "lit it for all he was worth." At least iirty guns commanded that stretch of )ach, and they pounded away as fast they could be fired. Now and then shell would burst rather too near the tule's ears for comfort, and he would teer violently and try to make for me. But the gallant driver plied the ,sh,'and held him to his wvork. At length a ten Inch shell tore up the sach and oxpl 'odd 80 near that the 1u10 was entirely demoralized; but not >his driver. Leaping dowvn from his at he caught the mule by the head, icked him rapidly round once or twice, id was off again on the keen jumnp be ire the gunners could get his range as fixed object. On he went, and at st dashed into t..j redoubt; but there as no shel ter in it for tihe mule. Hlil irs waved conspicuously above the w lying parapet. Thie ammunition boxes wore tumbled 2t unceremonliously, and the mule's ,se pointed for home! With the light. led load and the,.prospects of unlimit I. fodder, he beat the previous record. ut the Confederate artillerists were 1 their metal now. . They had failed stop tile supplies, but their hearts irned for revenge. Thleir shots now ime more. from the rear, and bets were coly offered with no takers, onl whart io result would be should the imule wve a fair chlance to kick a ton inch Loll, as it wvere, "on the fly,' Thle 'escenl(io scream of shell chasing him p the beach, lent - wings to his heels, Id he fairly flow towvard tile shelter g sand hills. There were only a few ids more to be covered, when some ~reful gunner made a close calculation to the lenlgthlening range, and pulled s lanyard almost In the nick of timd. he huge mass of iron struck the sach, as it seemeod to the anxious ectators, exactly behind tihe wagon, ld the next instant nothing wvas to be en thlere but a cloud of white smoke id browvn sand. In an instant, ho0w er, tis floated away, and thle mule as seen1 vigorously reducing to kindi g wvood what was left of tile quiarter. aster's wagon. And the (driver, where is lhe? Well, was apparently knocked .over by the :plosion, but 11e got on is feet in a omenlt, anld, having cut .tile traces, as on tile mule's back in anothler, aving his hlat in response to the cheers tat rolled across the wvater from Yan se blue jackets, from Confederate gar sons, and from the dark blue masses at drowned tile distant sand dunes.. It is a pIty that the driver's name is not been preserved, for Ils daring tcertainly deserves recognition and ward, l'erhaps lie received both, it the writer has been unlable to find ention of the fact. -Sateens are the first toi put In an ~pearance, and havet been on the unters of our leading merchants for me time. <.There Is [a pronounced ango in the designs from last season lt hardly for tile better, 'for iil .me of the patterns ai-e in tiny figures flowers, stare, dots and interlaces ugs, the majority show rings, blocki d all sorts of odd shapes and do gns, but all large and showy. I ust be admitted that these goods, ade up as exhibited in a window of s ading dry goods pouso are exceed. gly stylish. But we think mosi iopie will prefer the tiny , stripes ro those seen in the suitings of last sar and repreduced in the sateens el us season. 1M . FASHION NOTES. --Ied,Is a colot' I)revalent in cotton goods, as elsewhere, and , t4e red and white lald or striped gingham does not look badly after all, on young peo. ple. --Shoes Are out low'over the instep. Indoor shoes for the afternoon .or even ing are of kid, embroidered with beads,; a very tiny bow of ribbon is placed in front. They are peaked at the toe and have moderately high heels. -Out-of.-door jackets are made tight-fitting at the back,' but loose in front, with a gentleman's Collar and revere, and fastened with one button only at the neck. Another model is turned back with .deep revers all the way down, opening over a sort of skirt vest, which is often braided or em broidered. -The pewgingbams are more elegant and costly than any other cotton goods " qe prought into the market before. T.ey are as soft and fine as taffeta silk,' a id, in fact, closely simulate in the finer qualities a silken fabric. Fine checks black and white, pure Indigo blue and white, azure and white, and gray and white are in demand for morning dress, -trimmed with white em broidery. -We shall certainly see this season a decided return to white lingerieq The stiff, starched linen collar will not 'e appear, but we shall have the large turned-down lace collar, so elegant and becoming, Also collarettes of fine linen .etamine, ,trimmed with thread lace. This collarette is formed of a sorb of puffing round the neck, with a deep gathered frilling all round. Some times the collarette is continued in front into a sort of pointed plastron, which is laid over the bodice, and is a pretty finish to an afternoon or dinner toilet. -It is astonishing what variety a modiste of taste contrives to introduce in the costumes she makes for her fair clients. This spring's fashions are less exclusive than ever. It had been pre dicted that short round waists were coming in again, with full bodices and flowing sashes. This prediction is only being realized in part. Bound waists are seen, but not short-at least, not shorter than the natural place. Sashes are very wide and draped round the waist. But this is only one model among many equally adopted by fash ion; peaked bodices are also much in favor. They are made plain or full, according to the wearer's figure, and. the .chief consideration is that they should be perfectly fitting and suit the style of the person for whom they are destined. -The lace striped and figured are shown in all colors in stripes of vari ous colors, and plain goods for combi nations, or for costumes of stripes of two widths, or for solid costumes of hair-line stripes or plain goods; the fancy of the wearer decides this mat ter. The colors of these cottons are simply bewitching. Exquisite .rose tints copied from the lovely pinks seen in old Meissen china, and palo tur quoise blues, are shown in stripes of two delicate tones of the same color, one but slightly paler than the other; and these stripes are placed side by side with a band- of creamy lace or a stripe in ecru or cream twist or un bleached cotton. Two shades of sil ver-gray are thus used side by side. In somne an "all-over" pattern of lace forms an arabasque des!gn over the stripes. These dainty patterns come In pink cream-white and blue. The third color is sometimes introduced as a ball pattern figuring the stripe. Thus' there are inch stripes in cream and white, with the cream .stripes -dotted with blue. -The heliotrope color is still in great favor for dressy toilets, for re ceptions, dinners, weddings and so on --that is, of course, for married ladies wlIo wish to be dressed soberly, if with elegance. The pretty violet shade which has been named heliotrope is less hackneyed than biluo, green, or brown. Ried is always handsonxie, but less easy to wear. This beautiful heliotrope tint, which comprises so many shades from pale mauve -to the deepest purple, is therefore a great resource. The shades are generally eihosen for an elegant toilet. All the front part of tne dress, bodice and' skirt, for instance, will be of light colored silk, triinmed with velvet in applique, or embroidery in silk and beads in 'fine graduation of the same tint, while the back of the bodice and the deep train will be of dark-colored velvet. Satim is generally chosen for the lightest and velvet for the darkest shade, but plush and moire antique or peau-de-soie may also be employed, and the last is particularly suited, too. for the* ground-work for silk and bead enibroidery, to which are often added threads of -gold, silver or steel. -One of the most striking Innova tions.in the new fashions of the season is-that the turn-up collar, which has reigjned so long, is now very g6nerally dispensed with. A very elegang though extremely. simple dress for a young lady shows one of the latest styles of fashion. We' will describe it In detail. The material Is a soft Ckind of nun's veiling of a pretty shade of mouse-gray. The front of the bodice 'is very finely plaited in small plaits like those used in lingerie, the plaits are fastened down as faat as the middle or the chest; thence thiey are no longee stiched down,' but remain loose; the fullness thus produced -is gathered tojgether again into' a point below. This bodice comes down a little beyond the waist. The upper-skirt is very finely gathered on to it, failing loose in front almost to the edge of the undereskirt, then slightly draped upon each side - very much at the' back. The underskirt is of mouse-.gray fancy woolen materibl, with Elie streaks of dark brown ar. ranged in series of three and five. Tile sleeves are finely platted on the upper part from the shoulders down to a lit tie above the elbow. whence, the plaits being no ionger stitched down, it fornis a sort of loose puffing, which Is .gathered on to a plain band. There is no standing-up collar round the throatl the bodice is meanit to wear with a deep turned-down lace collar, gathered all round, 1Pierrot fashion, and, fast ened at the back. HIORSE NOTl~ -The little midget, Freeman, is now considered amnong the very best light. weight jockeys in the West. -There will be a day's trotting at the Pimlico track, Baltimore, Md., .on July 4. -Miss Ford, with $10,215 to her credit, was Enquirer's largest winner last season. Forty-one u Enquirer's ran. -Mr. Salisbury says that, barring accidents, he will start Director in the stallion race in California in the au tumn. -Mr..De Turk, of Santa- Rosa,' de clined an offer of $5000' for the use of Anteeo, 2.101, during the stud sea son. -Current repotts say that Pilot Knox, 2.19k, wilt be one of the stal lions in Hartford's $10,000 stake next September. -Charles Owens, who has gained some distinction as an arateur jockey "between the flags" in Ireland, has ar rived in this country. --Th'e' Pennsylvania Association of Trotting Horse Breeders will hold their annual meeting of 1888 at Du Bois, Pa,, qn September 4, 6, 6 and 7. -The second annual meeting of the New England, Association of Trotting Horse Breederh will be held at Mystic Park, Boston, September 25 to 28. -George Hakes, the .Illinois breeder and turfman, has purchased of J. L. Harris the 4-year-old trottinr stallion Patula, by rancoast-Eden Lassie. Price pall, $2500. -Coupling horses in the book bet- ' ting, ,where two are entered from the same stable, is now the order at New Orleans, in accordance with the provi slons of the new raoing-rules. -Prince Wilkes has a full brother. The youngster was dropped at High land Farm, Lexingtpn, recently. We hope that it will grow, up into as good a track performer as the chestnut geld ing owned by Mr. George A. Sing erly. -Milton Young denies that he has made any agreement with the Dwyere looking' to the purchase of Pontiac for stud purposes. The horse at present is not for sale, as it is believed that he will stand the traii ing. -Crit Davis, Harrodsburg, Ky., has commenced to jog Prince Wilkes, John- * ston, McLeod, and Katherine S. Mr. Davis writes that Prince Wilkes is not so fleshy this spring, and that he will be in shape earlier than last season. -Percy Talbott has sold the bay pmare Silverone, 2.19k, by Alcyone, dam Silverlock by Mambrino Time to Sam Gamble, of San Francisco, Cal., for 06000. Silverone was foaled in 1882. She made a record of 2.241 in the Gas. aonade stake race of 1885, won by Patron. -The bay stallion Brynwood, t years old, by Mambrino Patchen, dam Nannie L., by Messenger Duroc, died March 20th, in the A nerican Institute building. he was owned~ip ~eor4 ' K. Sstare, and caught cold in being shipped from Orange county to New 1York. -The Hampden Park Association, Springfleld, Mass., at a meeting on M[arch 17, elected the following offcers: L. J. Powers, President; Charles Ful ler, Vice President; E. C. Robinsong Secretary . and Treasurer; Executive Uommittee, D. 0. Gilman, A. F. Wildes, C. F. Shean and. 3. W. Good rich. -The Island Park track (between Albany and Troy, N. Y.) hasbeen wid nod.on the upper turn, and a new club house has been built. The.Clay etakes, a guaranteed purse of $3000 for horses that have not beaten 3 minutes, will be trotted for on June 13, 1888, -The brown .pacing gelding Riley, 2.20. by howard's. Copperbottom, was permanently injured in' a collision on the Chicago and Northwestern Rail road while being taken from Freeport, Ell., to Rlockford. Sam Chapman, his owner, entered suit for damages against the company, and was awarded 63500. -The Great Eastern Circuit com prises the Driving Club of New York, May 22-25; Goshen Driving Club, May 29 to June 1; Hudson River Driving Park, Pouglikteepsie, June 5.8; Island Park, Albany, June 12, 18, 14 and 15; Oharter Oak Park, Hartford, June 19 22; Beacon Park, Boston, July 8-6, and uniform classes and purses have been arranged throughout the circuit, -W. H. Wilson, Abda11ah' Park, purchased alt of the Sulban foals dropped 'at -Mr. Rose's ranch- near San Gabriel, Cal., in 1887. There were only three colts and one filly. They were got justt before Sultan was shipped to* Kentucky. 'Mr." Wilson also purchased a yearing filly by Stamboul, 2.17k. dam by The Moor. The five yotingsters were broughit over by Budd Doble, and arrived at Abdallaui Park on March -C. J. Hamlin makes the following offer to General B. F. . Tracy: "I will trot at thei epmning -fall meeting of the New York . .State Trotting Horse Breeder's Association, or atthe Buiralo international Fair, two Village Farm 2-year-oldis, one the get. of Mambrirto King, and cue the gets of Alrpont, Jr.,. against two Marshland Farm 2-year olds, one the'ght of Mambr4no Dhdley, and one the get of Kentuoky Wilkes, for any consideration that you may sug gest. I will also trot a 8 year-old by Mambrino ijing against the tried 8. year-old named by you by Kentucky Wilkes. - -Stallon fees are higher in Englandi than in America. Heatmit, the nesitor of E.nglish qires, stands at the Blank ney Stud, In Lincolnshire, at 250 guin4. efts, or $1250; book fulL. With him stand Galopin asnd Bendago, each at: 10(0 guineas, or P500. Robert the Davil, Hampton, Bend .Or, Ormnonde, Spring field and St. 8Igion, all stand at $50 S~terIin -, Petrarch and Isonomy stand at $75; Munoaster, Foxhall, Thurlo, St. G.tien, Sweetbread, Blaroaldine, Londesborough, Peter Galliard, Wen. look, Melton, Master *aldare, CJarlton, Wisdom, Phiilanion Trappist, G*eorge Frederick, CamballI all tnd at $25t6, a price that ia consfdered excessive in, this country,