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12 -2 sale: will continue until all goods are: sold k- CREDITORS' S AIvE T I The stock of goods of the City of Paris Dry Goods Store is being rapidly sold. The quality of the goods and the prices they are being sold at have and are telling 1 the story. The people of this part of the state are getting the benefit of this forced sale. Goods are being sold entirely regardless of value or cost of manufacture. The only legitimate and honest judges of this fact are the people who have purchased goods at this sale. All others are and must be simply influenced by personal • ill feelings or selfish motives. The creditors will continue to sell this large and finely assorted stock until all the goods are sold and the cash realized, no matter how j ryj S much or how little that may be. The community does not care or worry itself about that—the only question is, how cheaply are the goods sold ? The verdict rests p , O with them. The immense crowd of purchasers that have been in daily attendance gives answer. One fact is admitted—that the City of Paris Dry Goods Store has ►="* * CfQ always carried the largest and finest line of goods in Los Angeles. NO TRASH ! NO AUCTION JOB LOTS ! But the choicest goods that are manufactured in O America and Europe. This is the class of goods which is now being sold for less than other merchants pay for their goods to the manufacturers. You save from 40 *4 to 75 per cent by buying now, and at this creditors' sale. Cold facts cannot be talked down. Compare these goods and prices with others—that tells the tale. »-? 1 House Furnishing Goods SILKS-SILKS t % -3 LOOK AX X -* LOOK AT« < ' 8 1 Blankets, Comforts, Window Shades, Scrims, Crjstal, CMna and Japanese Silks - I - 8 Down Pillows, Table Covers, Bed Spreads, Plain Satln and Fanc y NoYe,t J E f Table Linen, Napkins, Towels, Sheeting, Plain and Changeable Sarahs, | | Mnslins, Prints, Ginghams, Flannels, Lace Curtains. Bengalines and Satin Dwjissse, And after a careful comparison of goods and prices the verdict will be: This *-t {> If you are looking for DRESS GOODS, see the "Novelty Dress Pattern is the and most complete line of Silks in the city—and prices that no q Suits," the very latest importations from Europe, and some of the finest other house in California will duplicate. The reason is that the creditors 1 X/X •3 that were manufactured for the fall and winter of 'q3-'q4. At this sale you must have the cash, and will sell all the goods for less money than other O -5 can buy two suits at about the same price you would have to pay others for houses can purchase them at. The financial misfortunes of the City of Paris one. Seeing is believing! In plain weaves—Serges, Henriettas, Hop Sack- Dry Goods Store have put money (dollars and cents) into the pockets of the < ing and Cashmeres—this stock is complete, in all shades and qualities. purchasing public. Every dollar's worth of goods in this immense estab- Every yard will be sold for less than import price. Make comparisons with lishment must be sold: Bring your cash and you can get $2 in goods for others. every $1 in money. CI I AS. MUNTER, MANAGER. -a sale: will continue unxil all goods are: sold KEEP YOUR EYE ON THE COMPASS. Keep fottf ejf* *n the" compass lithe sea runs high And the ocean's laky billows Mock the blackness of the sky. When lussslim up- against the winds, So ul til ass and strong. Keen your ej»e on the compass. And you can't go wrong. Keep your oye on the compass And yoqx white light trimmed. Though tab mi3qn hide in the heavens And the stars ar* dimmed. Taeugh the voyage may be lonely And the way seiem long, Esep ytfur eye on tti« compass. And yon can't go wrong. Kaep your oye on the compass; It will goldeLyqa o'er the deet,. Will show yofi where the north star is And where the flowers sleep Ip.UJe sunny south. No matter If way.seona long, ' Keep your eye on the oompass. And you can't go wrong. —Cy War man ln New York Sun. MADAME'S STORY. "And what became of Marie?" I asked. "She married, did she not? Or did she, now? I remember there was some ex citement." Madame sighed. "It is a very long story." "Tell me, madame," I begged. I give the story in her own words. I would that I could give her accent. Her Eng lish was almost perfect, though rather studied and occasionally confused as to tenses. But her singularly pure, clear roice and a faint foreign softening of each syllable made her charming to lis ten to. "Well, as I think I told you long ago, Marie went away from me for one long year. When she was very little, I send her to a convent in Toronto, and I do not see her very often. She grow up so pretty, so spirituelle, the pale pink face and big eyes, black eyes and long, long lashes—oh, she is beautiful! She sway like a rose in the morning, quite slender, and her small feet do not hurt tin flow ers. She is a flower herself, charming. She come home, and the lads in the vil lage are distracted, and I am too. "It is very hard to watch Marie. She is so quick and so beautiful. She laugh in my face and say: 'Do not fear, my mother. I always stay with you. As for the men, I hate 'em all.' Then she dance away with the pale pink ribbons flying from the pink robe, and the lads follow her everywhere. She read love stories— novel, she call them, and they put strange things in her head. "She will not marry the lads in tho village, she. say, but some rich man will come from the city and take her away, and I, her mother, will have plenty *»f beautiful dresses mid n maid to wait up on me. Then I scold her and say that I do not want those things, and she must marry a lad that I shall choose for her. Then she dunce away, throwing the roses at me, and the ribbons flutter ing everywhere, always ribbons and flowers with my Marie, and when sho pass, the curling hair all tumbling iround her, there is always a sweet per fume in the air. You remember her when she came from the convent I nod. Who wouldn't remember that wild rose of a girl, ndth tlw daintiest foot poet ever raved over, with a slen der, lithe, ever dancing, little figure, with her pfetty gowns following every movement, with her glorious merry black eyee and the seashell pink on her cheeks. Remember Marie? I, who had followed her floating ribbons, had picked up the roses she let fall, had been as crazy about her as ever was village lad I Remember her? Yes, as one remembers a sprite, a fairy, a delicious dream, I sigh as one sighs for departing youth. Those mad, happy days have nothing to do with me now. A moment ago—a day ago—l was bored, cynical, blase, and now I would give my life to be dancing once more through the woods after Marie—after flowers and streamers and a floating gown catching on the wild rose bushes—after Marie I If once more the woods could seem as green, the sky as blue, a girl as fair as Marie! "So she will not marry, and by and by a girl from tbe convent write Marie to visit with her at her home, and I am tired, and I let Marie go. Sho stay one whole year, and I weary for her, and she come back. When I see her, the tears come in my eyes. She is pale and thin and so quiet. I feel dreadful. I ask her what the matter is, and she say, 'Noth iug at all.' But I, her mother, know better, and I watch and wait. I "One day a letter come for her, and it J is a man's handwriting on the envelope. ! Marie take it and say nothing at all. Then I feel bad, very bad that my little girl have a lover, and that I, her mothaV', know not of it. After a long time she tell me his name. It is Jean Lefroy, and she knew him at the house of her friend* and ho tell her he love her, and I ask her if she love him —although I think it not right that I do not choose for her —and she say she do not know. But one day Mons—Mr. Lefroy come and say: " 'Why you not write me, Marie?" and she say to him that I am her mother, and 1 he bow very low to me and say: " 'Madame, I love your daughter, and i I write and ask her when I may come ' and tell her mother that I wish to marry her, and she do not answer me at all, at all,' und he stride very fierce about the room, and Marie put her head on my shoulder and say that she love me, her mother, only. And he ask very quick: j " 'Why you say you love me?' and : Maria will not answer. She just put ! her hands to her ears and will not listen to him. I think she must be crazy and speak hard to her, but she just run out of the room. Then he go away and say he will come back again that evening. Then I speak to Marie, and she say there is another man. too, and she do not know which she like better—that when one of them is there that she like the other one better—and it is making her pale and thin. Then I am very severe with her and tell her it if; very wrong; that ; sho cannot lovo either of them, or she would know. But she say she think she will marry one of them, and I tell her that Mr. Lefroy is coming tonight and she must say either yes or no to him, and she say that I will break her heart. "Well, in the evening a strange gen tleman come—a very fair gentleman, with pretty curly hair—and he ask to see my Mari". She look over the stair, and she say to me: " "It is the other one.' "Then I am nearly crazy, but Marie esy Blie will not go to see him till Mr. LOS ANGELES HERALD* FRIDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 10. l»ya. Lefroy come. 'Perhaps I can tell,' sne say, 'when I see them both together.' "When Mr. Lefroy come, we go down tho stair and there they are, both to gether, and they look hard at each oth er. We talk a little while, and then I say, 'Gentlemen, what is it that you want?' • "And they both say quick, 'MOTtof And Marie she say: " 'But you cannot both have me. Is it not so?* And the one that came lest say, very angry: " 'You must decide now which ona you will have!' "Then Marie look at him and frow:i and say quick: " 'Very well, then; I decide now tha- I will not have you.' "Then Jean Lefroy he smile a little, and the other one walk out of the house quick, his face like a storm cloud, and then Marie sit down and cry. She will not speak to Jean Lefroy, although he coax her very hard. She only say that she will stay with me, her mother. Then Jean he bow and say to me that he hope my health will keep good, and Marie stop crying and make him a grimace, and he go awayttoo. They both come back often. But she cannot tell which she like best ever, and I am very weary. Almost I would be glad that she leave me and marry. So one day she tell me that next week she will mam', and there is no time to get her the clothes, and she will not tell me which one. I like them both very well, and I feel bad, but she only say, 'You will see.' "On Thursday she would marry, only quietlike—only those who marry her and I, her mother, there—and we go to the church together. When we get to the church, I look to see which gentleman, but I sco no one. Marie is cool. She say: 'Let us wait. He may be late,' and she smile to herself. I think it is very strange, but at last I see Jean Lefroy come round tho corner and Marie run to meet him. When he come near, I see that he look—oh, horrible! He have his arm tied up, and his coat is torn, and one of his eyes has a black mark, and he is lame. Ho wear no hat, and the collar and tie are gone. Oh, it is dreadful. But I say nothing. I fear Marie change her mind again. But it is not so. They are married, and I make Jean tell me why ho look so dreadful. " 'Well,' he say, 'Marie tell each of us, separately, that she will marry us today, and when I sco him I smile, not knowing that he has her promise, too, and when he see me he hold the head high, not knowing that I shall marry her. So all the week we nearly have our fight, but I never touch him till—well, last night Mario write us both and say that she will marry the one that will get to the church first. We both get the note at the same time, and I see that he is getting ready early, and I hurry too. When he leave his house, I leave mine also, and all the way we try to keep each other back. It is very hard work, and two hours after wo leave the homes we havo not get farther than the iir.st corner. " 'Soon wo start to run, but we cannot get past eachsKither, and then he catch hold of me, and then we fight some more. But soon I tear his coat bad, and he can not wear it, and then his vest, but ma dame will pardon me that 1 cannot tell her all that happen. At all event, wa have to go home to get the clothes, ana I get here first.'" Madame paused, and I knew her story was done. "And were they happy together, ma dame?" I asked. "It is hard to imagine Marie settling down quietly." Madame sighed. "It is a long story," she said.—Madge Robertson in Romance. Mistakes About Alcohol. There is a common belief that alcohol gives new strength and energy after fatigue sets in. The sensation of fatigue is one of the safety valves of our ma chine. To stifle the feeling of fatigue, in order to do more work, ia like closing the safety valve so that the boiler may be overheated and . explosion result. It is commonly thought that alcoholic drinks aid digestion, but in reality the contrary would appear to case, for it has been proved that a meal with out alcohol is more quickly followed by hunger than a meal with alcohol. In connection with the sanitation of armies thousands of experiments upon large bodies of men have been made and have led to the result that, in peace or war, in every climate—in heat, cold or rain soldiers are better able to endure the fatigue of the most exhausting marches when they are not allowed any alcohol at all. That mental exertions of all kinds are better undergone without al cohol is generally admitted by most peo ple who have made the trial.—Westmin ster Review. The Servant Problem Not New. Students of household management will learn with satisfaction that in 1568 many of the evils now to be complained of were distinctly recognized. Some of the more curious fines which were im posed by a country gentleman upon of fending servants were a penny for leav ing a door open, missing prayers, leav ing beds unmade after 8 (presumably a. m.), end cooks could only have follow ers at the rate of a penny fine for each one. A curious custom seems to have then existed that entree to the house was denied during the family meals, and as the fine for allowing a breach of this custom was heavy it may be presumed that the sin was esteemed great.—Lady's Pictorial. No Use Wasting It. He—Why do you always wear a small er hat when we take a box than you do when we sit down in the chairs? She—There is no one behind me who« I sit in a box.—Truth. A liemarkr.Me Kridce. It is reported from Denver that a nat ural bridge formed by a tree of agatized wood, spanning a canyon 45 feet wide, has been found in Chalcedony park in Arizona. It is supposed that the tree had at some remote time fallen, when it became inbedded in the silt of some great inland sea or z&ghty Water over flow. The silt became in time sand stone, and tho wood gradually passed through the stages of mineralisation, until now it is i\ wonderful tree of solid agate. Again, in after years, water has washed and eaten aw-ay the sandstone until v canyon 45 feet in width has baen formed, tbe flintlike substances of the agatized woo: I hating resisted tiie erosion of the waterfiow. —Yankee Blade. FOR LITTLE FOLKS. Washington's Oriental Baby. She is the daughter of the Chinese min ister, and she lives in the Stewart castle at Washington with her father and moth er. Her name is Tsui Yew Me, and she is a little more than 2 years old. Mar garet Spencer, who recently called at the castle, has written quite an interestinj article about this little princess of the Chinese embassy, in which a portrait is given. Among other things the article contains the following interesting de scription: She wore a pink figured underskirt and a robe, cut ju.-t like her mamma's, of dark blue brocade. The sleeves fell away from her tiny wrists, which were covered with bracelets of coral, beads and gold bands. You never saw such pretty hands —so soft and brown and tiny. The little oval tipped fingers were covered with rings, and on one thumb two rings of blue stones. In the photo graph, which the big brother of the baby told me at the legation I might send to you, I see the rings are taken off and a royal headdress put on in place of the funny house cap which she wears at home. That is of black silk, with a hole cut out for tho crown of the head and edged with black fringe. Across the forehead gold bangles are sewed on, gifts from the family at her birth "for good luck." Two tiny, red pompons bob up and down on slender wires, and a gold medal hangs below them. Behind all these a tiny bell is fastened, which tinkles like a sleighbell whenever the little head moves. She wore green silk stockings fastened by garters of red, with funny rosettes. What She Lacked. Mias Pussy sat on the lowest bough Of a waving hickory tree Whispering eoftly: "I'll have you now. You gay little robin, you'll seel Tho old hen watches her chicks thirteen And has such a fearful way Of flying at ono that I haven't seen A bit of fresh meat today." But Master Robin twitters away As sho stealthily creeps along. Joining in as the thrush and jay Chirrup a morning song. Glancing sldewiseonce and acaln Out of his saucy eye. As if to say: "You'll catch me then? Well, madam, suppose you try." "I have four legs," said Pur*y Cat, "And you, sir, have only two. I have sharp claws—depend on that— And they'll get tho better of you. I'm stronger, too, than a do-c:i birds. Look nov. 1" and sho quickly sprlnss. But tho robin laughed as he soared away, "Ila! ual but you bave no wings." Little Queen Wilhelmina. Wilhelmina, the little queen of the Netherlands, was given on her recent (fourteenth) birthday, by her mother, 30 large dolls, so arrayed in uniforms of the Dutch army as to acquaint her with the appearance of the various grades of offi cers holding her commissions, but she at once insisted upon having an equal num ber of dolls dressed as ladies of the court to entertain the officers.—Exchange. A Sweet Shower. Little Edgar, aged 3, who happened to be very fond of lemon drops, was out on the porch one day when a sudden and violent hailstorm came up. "Oh! oh!' the boy screamed with delight, "it's yain ing tandy I"—Youth's Companion. Ono of tho Foot Guards. . In connection with the recent visit of the Duke of Connaught to Austria and his presence at the Hungarian maneu vers at Guns, the Emperor Francis Jo seph has conferred upon his royal high ness the honorary colonelcy of the Fourth regiment of Hungarian hus- sars. This gives the accompanying por trait, which is a reproduction from an old print, especial'interest at this time. It shows tho duke in the first military uniform he ever wore as a .child. It is the uniform of the Foot' Guards, and the prince was 3 years old at the time the picture was originally .made. The Duke of Connaught's name is Arthur. His mother is the queen of England- Ho is the third son and the seventh' child of Queen Victoria and was born May 1, 1850. A novel and beautiful flro screen ia of orass set yrtfahUg'jifr!ty^Qtlglfa& amber glass. With this iß>fe<w3*hicb corresponds. • Wh'eri'tho an outfit of tbis sort, wiih a.'w&Se m'an tol, becomes a thing of ornate and con nantly varying beauty. A Fcrslatoni Counsel. Mr. Oswald has th? reputation ofT-? ing the "hardest lighter" r.l the bar. Various stories illustrative of hie persist ency have- recently apptarcf: in the pers, but I have not seen tho following, ■ which is perhaps the best: Mr. Orrrfc.d was arguing a case in ihe cour,t frf"Sp peal at great length. Already the"r*fort ' had intimated prettyclearly that iinad heard enough, but Mr. Oswald ""hrd treated these intimations in hi usual manner on raising point j2ter point. "Really," at last one of the lord jus tices remonstrated, "really, Mr. Os wald, if you intended to rely on thoso points, you should have raised them in the court below." -<*SE; "So I did, my lord," replied wald, "but their lordships stopped UR" "They stopped you, did they?**:, quired Lord Esher eagerly. "HowOid they do it?'—London Truth. Origin of the Fan. The following Chinese legend accounts for the invention of the fan in a rather « ingenious fashion: "The beautifuPßan Si, daughterof a powerful assisting at the feast of lanterns ~whcn ' she became overpowered by the heatu.;£lie was compelled to take off her mask. But ( as it was illegal to expose her face., she held her mask before it and.gently flut tered it to cool herself. The court ladies J present noticed it, and in an instant 100 I other hands were waving their masks. I This was the birth of the fan, wbictTto- '4 day takes the place of the nut's in Chi- 1 na."—New York World. Au Improbable Tarn. * - -* 1 i "One of my ancestors won a battle A during the crusades by his skill in nan- ] dling his artillery," said the baron. "But my dear baron," said his friend, j "at the time of the crusade gunpowder j had not yet been discovered." "I know that as well as you do, a*d I so did my ancestors." "How did he win the battle, then?" "He brought his artillery to bear on"' the Saracens, and the stupid f ocitv see ing the jmb, supposed that powder had at last been discovered, and fled, in dis may."—St. Louis Post-Dispatch. .. ~~ Her Reason. He—So -we are engaged. Isn't it Lovely? i She—Perfectly. He—l wonder if anybody saw me when I kissed you last.rugut? She—l,hope so. He-What? Sho—l hope so. He—Why? She—l mean business and want wit nesses.—London Tit-Bite. Earrings of Miss Brad don's Pen,' | The assertion recently made that Mis« Braddon had re&Hwd $800,000 from ber j novels has been verifted by London/ Truth. The continuous* sale ,of Miss Braddon's books is uiipreoedontecLin the records of British publishers, and* it is believed has brought in a gow deal more than tho amount/steitedt, ' A ,Weak; Excuse. Changeless Charleys-Cftn";yoa break half a dollar for me, William? Busted Bill—Go to! Do you take>"BW for a Sandow?—Boston Herald,