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THE SUNDAY UNION. ! . c SUNDAY DECEMBER ti, 1889 I ] TSSL'ED BT T3E 1 SACRAMEBT. 5) HSHSHDB COMPAKY. | Office. Third Street, between J and It EHE DAILY RECORD-ONION, bat sir inyfc In eaon wee*, wkh Doulilk Vjh-.e'. ou Safirdays, aud THE SUNDAY ONION, ftiDiished every Sundaj morning, making & ..■lid (EVES-r*. 1 i<i;.er. fjicneyear _ 56 >m .Torsixmou!!.s _ 3 00 yor three montto I 6" Babscrlbeia served by Oarrie-i at Fifteen Cents pei week. Iv &1] interiorcitiesaiid towni ■r '"jn t>e had of the principal Periodic*l fewmeH a:;d A£*.-nt.s. Tho.-r.NDAY VNIuN is Hived by Carriers at <t.o) 1. v i-g cents ;er month THE "WEEKLY UNION 1 ...e Cheapest aid most desirable Home, Ren I *!id l.itcriry Journal puriliytu-rt on the Pacific '! eSCKD&Y I'sio;; Is sept 10every suu • to :he Wkeklv Union ■ for both onfi year ?2 iM • be Wki BAY QmOH K'one per year 1 50 t Union aloiie pc-r jwar.. J 90 nese pnblica'.iona ore Kent either by Mail ■ taceotsor single subscribes, wJ b ihfirgen prepaid. All Postmasters aiv agents. < -■ idveriitiujr Mediums on tb-» Pacific nteied :il tbe Pottoffica a' Sacramento a? ass mutter. Tht Ki-.jor.D-Union, Scibday Unios and .ly Union are !.'!<• only paper/ on ihe Toast ;' tide of San Fra'teisco, that receive .d Associated Pre; ' 1 :hes from all itri* 0/ the world. Outside of San Francisco, .\t no cumixtit'jri either in influence O and general cirarfa'ion throughout the ■ The .San Francisco Otll well says: "It is the first duty of the Federal (iovernoient to keep navigable rivers in a navigable cor.di:' ii." An exchange says that there are some drugs that art- worth $2,000 a bottle, and small bottles at that, if it is the drug gist-' valuation, OQ the basis of prescrip tion charges, it is nut surj rising, and the bottle miiiht lie a good deal smaller. The "deadly electric wires" are in for tl of abuse and sensationalism : bat suppose some one should h the daily stntNti 9 of the work of the deadly sewer-pipe am! the foul drain ad plumbing in dwelling-ho The ' Oakland Board of Health hasforni ally and emphatically condemned the water furnished for domestic purposes in that city as unwholesome and deleterious to health. It is not often that an official body Is found sufficiently courageous to pnt be seal of condemnation upon its own muni:;, ility. The question with the Oakland people now is''What are we go ing to do about it ?" Mr. Archibald Gohther, the accom plished writer of plays, has beenblack i iv the Calumet dub, New York. Mr. Gunther i.- to be congratulated. He • ! iciation with the fellows who "do not work, doncherno." Mr. Gunther belongs in better company— with len who write. He now has a new theme fur a satire, and if he does not use it he should lie disowned by the modern We concur with the AlUt California th.it :i _:v..t <iral of sympathy is to be felt for the Missouri girl who shot the "fool" who "pestered" her about the affairs of her heart. Tiie man or woman who teases yo : 1 abi ut its innocent ljves, the buds of it- genuine affection, docs a monstrous --. As the Aha weli rays: "More tempers :ire spoiled, dispositions warped and lives saddened by that teasing than the world knows about." It li;ms out that the influenza that has set all Europe barking and running at the nose it identical with (he epizo >tic that same years ago afflicted horses in the United States, [f that is all, Americans need not fear it. The patent medicine mi : frightened "ejii/.ooty" out of the lam! in sh .: order, and they are ready for an othi r b Dt with it. Strange, is it not, that it took itie medical men go long to find I what bo familiar :i disease was? It v -.iM that the Pan-American dele rill not, after all, come to California Be i;:oy are surfeited with traveling. Thai ie not the true reason. They hi ' I 1 until the entire lot have the ,'.c;m complaint, dyspepsia, and they are begging for time to recover. Why, they lessened the larder of the Dni 1 Club of New York by just $5,000 worth of food and drink ! After that, and having heard of California hospitality, it is n 1 ■■ rnder tli:» t they beg off We venture —timidly of coarse —to s>ig- >: to iiit- writers on the Examiner that tbey attempt anything more con cerning the Sacramento river and its con dition at this point, they inform them : be !'■ . With a -mill leaven of troth thfiy mingle a vast quantity of . ;. in treating of the stream. They are not ouite so much at sea, however, as the Bulletin man who the other day cdi v treated of the break on the Yolo s tfe . iii said it was caused by the last tnt of a brash dam which csrae down the river on a run and knocked a hole in ye-». STIOH i> called to the fact by a S .11 ; ran iseo contemjiorary that Germany now hat a law prohibiting the canning of loot) i:: thnt country, or the use of canned n cx-es where lead enters into the ution of the ran, as ten parts are in I Lo une hundred. The lawpiovides iat feod cans must not be tinned on th^ inside by any alloy or metal that con tains ::i r>ne hundred parts by «eighl more ■.ii parts of lead. Ii also forbids the i-in-.i, enameled or glased food irhich, u;iocr the vilicg.ir-boriing ■livers any lead. The local mer chants uf San Francisco engaged in the I :\>od trade consider the Germ::n severe, hot 11 me of them deny that ires the consumer against a con '.jr.ger existing wherever some such - are not enforced. A chemist of this city a few days ago, and pr!>>. t 1 regulations being made known in this country, cailed our attention to the dantreis that link in the use of certain metals in the preparation of foot), es|>e tiaily where copper kettle* are used that are soldered by a comj-osition into which lead enters. We will lie compelled litre after to observe the German regulation-. I canning food, or else surrender a good ]«»r v tr:i<:e with Germany. W i. therefore, insist upon similar la« in our u\vn country. A SCSSOHBEB of the RBOOBO-Us 9 residing in Bethlehem, Connecticut, writ* that the views expressed in this jot;ni concerning the r.•;" rm ballot law are soucd, as read in tl c light of receo - te. Tiie Ojonecticat , : ut it is a lo:; = in the right direction. Our correspondent says that most of the older voters opposed the law prior to the recent election in Hartford. But when the test day came they saw the advantages of the new sys tem for good government, and became its ardent supporters. "Every voter," he writes, "can take with him into the private room as many ballots as he choose. He lias a given time in which to mark his choice among the candidates, and to put his ballot into an official envelope and to seal it up. If there is any mark upon the ballot other than to indicate the choice from among candidates, the official counters will throw out the ballot. It is the best law against buying votes we have had. It works well, and that is the best kind of evidence." If so imperfect a law as that referred to gives such general satis faction, what might not our correspondent write after witnessing the operation of a law that provides an official ballot as well as an official envelope, and that requires registration of the ballot number as the voter enters the booth, and the detaching of the ballot number before the vote is east, thus insuring the complete inviola bility of the ballot's secrecy? As a result of the Brussels confereuec, Cardiual Lavigerie has decided, since Emm I'asha has been forced to leave the continent, that his own scheme to break up the slave traffic in Africa can succeed only by the co-o[>eration of all the Eu ropean and other civilized powers. This is discouraging, for these powers cannot be put in line with the movement to fit out a force and induced to contribute to the great cost, in less than four years; and during that time the slave trade will be pushed with renewed energy, and the markets in Stamboul will swarm with wretched creat ures torn from home and kindred to be sold into bondage. How would it do to assault the markets as a means of breaking nn the trade ? To have the civilized rulers and authorities of the world say to Turkey, "You must shut up your slave shops;" to Tripoli, "You must forbid slavers entering your territory:'' to hint to the Shah that if he desire 3to retain friendly relations with the outside world he must bow-string the rascals who import slaves. If the markets of the world for human flesh can he closed by protest, warning or threat, it will put an end to the business of slave stealing in Africa. It is by no means im probable that the great Powers could be induced to unite in such a warning to the slave-dealing States, and even to threaten them with arms, for a great humanitarian purpose, setting aside for a later day their jealousies on other questions. The Superintendent of the Canadian quarantine service has become a convert 10 the doctrine that the influenza epidemic in Europe is a forerunner of cholera. He has officially advised his Government to make more stringent quarantine regula tions and to provide for their strict en forcement. His claim is that the burden of statistical evidence proves that every visitation of cholera has been immediately preceded by some epidemic disease, and that influenza has most frequently been that disease. But is this a sound conclu sion? Could not statistical proofs still stronger be adduced proving that certain other classes of phenomena also precede cholera ? As something of a nature to command public attention always precedes the next event of importance, there cannot be drawn any logical conclusion that there i> nesesßarily a relation between them. Of course there are phenomena that 011 their face are apparent as having relation to and indicating conditions likely to prevail thereafter, as inclement weather predis posing to colds, catarrh and lung com plaints, or unsanitary conditions, as in dicating liability to filth diseases, etc. The medical faculty has not thus far seen any thing to lead it to believe that influenza and cholera have any relationship. At the same time, if the "scare" which the Canadian official's fears tend to promote will have the effect of making the people more attentive to the sanitation of towns and cities, he will not have become nerv ous in vain. In Europe the estimate has always been that after a nation has engaged in a great aad a long v.-.ir, for two decades there after it will suffer, and that its industries and finances will be seriously impaired to the diminution of its wealth. But how is it with the United States of America. According to the statistics gathered by the New York World th's nation is to-day, though it suffered by the most gigantic rebellion the world has known, the richest country on the glebe, and has increased its wealth four-fold since the war. There are but nine nations the wealth of which equals the increase of our possessions in the last nine years. Our gain has been in the labt decade more than eighteen and a half billions of dollars. Sakau Bkuniiaudt has yielded to the importunities of certain French mothers and will soon appear in a role that will permit of the daughters of these mothers being taken to see the tragedienne, with out danger of being smirched by the ex pression of indecent sentiment. Sarah has chosen ths virtuous character of Joan of Arc for the occasion. But how odd Bern hardt will feel in the role of the Maid of Orleans, in which there will not appear the faintest shadow of the suggestive or salicious. "Can the famous queen of un chastity form a true conception of such puiity of character ?" will be a question that will much interest, and the solution of which will soon be worked out. P.kv. llkxky A. Adams, of Buffalo, N. V., one of the foremost and influential clergymen of the East, has been telling his people novae plain truths about news paper?. He says: In ni 46 cases out of ten the press speaks on the right side. I re-pect the reporter a? much as I da-ad him. The greatest help the chureii La 110 1,,y is the press; it is the s'jarpe tlO de tect error, the quicken '.o a;>i>:.iua. and the 10 mptcsi ts award iur-rit « demerit, a? we de • it.v, and when you find a preacher taken op !jt tbe press a-:d multiplied a thousand-fold li-xt lnorniug, depeud ou it that mat:— he he eoud'eied h lw-nii: or an eposuite b* the churchman—i> sp aking living truths, and the reportex recognises it. Mr. Adams does well—he is a go~<i ob server ; he is qualified to make a good re porter. He should be promoted at once. A rooit, suffering feilow mortal, in a fit of insanity, the other day in San Fran- I asoo cat open his abdomen. One of the , "enterprising" sheets of ihU city of sen- - ' tiooal journalism and gash rushes into ' print a picture of the penknife with which the suicide committed hara-kiri. Now that is what we are willing to admit is good wark. It a an example to all the world of what sii;,:i..,r journalistic ability ■ can accomplish when once it rolis up its sleeves and get^ right down to "bnsine s." It is surmised that the Biloott ej will lead Congress to regard tlu -0: extradition relations with Canada fresh interest. THE SUNDAY USTKXN, SAOIJAMENTO, CAL., DECEMBER 22, 1889. His Father's Ward; or, Cross and Crown A CHRISTMAS fcTOKY. [Written for the SrsiuY dOOM by LIB 1 The suburban home of the French Con sul in one of the British provinces was beautifully situated on the Northwest Arm, the waters of the blue Atlantic forru iDg a beautiful cove, the banks of which were grassy lawns and tree-shaded slopes, on which were built the liouies of wealthy residents, some of them palatial in ele gance. The French Consul's home was 3 line grey stone building, fashioned after the style of the Tudor mansions on the banks of the Thames. A carriage drive from the main road held its sinuous W»J through a fine grove of maples and sturdy English oaks. In the early fall this drive was a dream of beauty, in its rich, radiant coloring of crimson and gold, decked with vivid greens and dull browns, that ac centuated the glowing colors —leaves that seemed splashed with the life-blood of the dying summer. At the back of the house the lawn sloped to the water's edge, and a llight of stone steps led to a small wharf and boat house. A steam launch and yacht and several pleasure boats were moored to their anchors, and floated serenely on the tide, now and then advancing or receding in a stately minuet fashion, as the waves moved them. A tall llagstali' stood in the center of the court yard, trom the top of which floated the cri-colur of France. The interior of the house was no less beautiful The front hall had tesselaled Hnors of colored marbles ; the side lights and oriel windows were of stained glass. A fireplace, with tiled mantel and jambs, and brass fender and andirons, reflected the oak wood (tames and rendered th° hall a cheerful resting place. One W two hands-onie pictures and a plush divan gave color to tjie oak and cherry wood finishing of the staircase, and soft fur rugs were be fore the elegant portierres that veiled the drawing-room entrance ; also, the dining room, sitting-rooms and library. The up per part of the house was arranged in bed room suites and bath-rooms, fitted up with all the modern luxuries. It was a cool evening in the early fall and the inmates of the hall were M idame Irwin, the Consul's wife, and I lhauncy, the only son and heir, who had just at tained his majority, a tall, fair fellow, with closely cropped curly hair, blue eyes, refined features and a beautiful mouth, shaded by a tawny mustache. Hut the general appearance of this young man w:is eileminate. There seemed to be a want of vigor, not from ill-health, but a love of in dolence and ;\ lack of vivacity and energy. His pursuits were inclined to be literary. as lie was finely educated. Hut even that did not trouble him. His mother, the Madame, and Henri Irwin, the Consul, hail both spoilt him in his youth, and now were inclined in his manhood to deplore his lack of vim and easy pleasure-living nature. There seemed to be an air of expectancy that pervaded the whole house. Even the well-trained servants seemed to be hurry ing around. Mudame stood in evening dress, with one well-shod foot resting on the brass fender, and her pretty hands holding a fire-screen before her dark eyes. Chauncy had stretched his lazy length on the divan, and his one hand slowly caressed a fine greyhound that lay beside him on the floor. Chauncy's eyes roved indo lently from the pictures to his mother's face, as she spoke in a well-modulated voice, but in broken English, of the ex pected gue^t, and what dutie3 Chauncy would be expected to perform in entertain ing her. Mr. Irwin had gone to the train that evening to meet his ward, the daugh ter of a life-long and wealthy friend, who ma now about to make her home with them. Chauncy had really no objections to offer to the arrangement, except the disinclination to entertain or amuse a young lady and a school graduate from Girton. She was, as he had heard, a maiden of the modern school, and had given both time and attention to physical culture as well as the mind ; a girl of marvelous adaptability to all pursuits—swimming, rowing, skating, riding, tennis and other athletic sports that this modern age licenses to ihe modern maid. In all these she excelled. In accomplishments de signed for the fair sex —as drawing, paint ing, music—Elise had acquitted herself with credit. She had even dabbled in science. Chaum-y held his hands up in horror as his mother went over the default of the last letter from the Girtou College professor. Ilis easy-going, indolent nature could not tolerate the thought of the energy that accomplished this. "Cnwomanly" he called it. "And mother," he said, "I shall not live at home. Why, my life would be miserable." "But Chauncy," pleaded his mother, "it is not fair to judge of any girl till you are acquainted with her." 'Uli, I know just what she is like; you enn't tell tae," said Chauncy, his prejudice Disking him unreasonable. The roll of carriage wheels put an end to the conversation, as the colored foot man passed through to open the doors, < iiinKiry springing up and his mother go iug forward to meet them. Mr. Irwin came up the steps with his ward, Elbe De Manner, both laughing and chatting like old friends. Then he pre sented her in his graceful foreign way to hi- u-il\; and son, Madame giving her a cor dial, motherly greeting, and Chauncy a slow, but very graceful I ow, his lazy, indo lent eyes only half opening under their lashes. Eliae flushed one glance at him from her blue eyes, then turning to the fire-place she held out her small chilled fingers to the glow, as she awaited her maid and the unloading of the luggage and small belongings so necessary to her comfort. Elise was a tall girl of twenty, with a superb figure, large dark blue eyes, with arclied brows, and long, curling Mack lashes ; her fine black hair was coiled low on the well-poised head, and her hands and feet were small, but well formed. As she stood there, chatting pleasantly and vivaciously about her trip, Chauncy could but acknowledge to himself that there was nothing mannish about this fair girl, if she was fond of athletic sports. Her maid coming in at that moment put to flight all further imaginings about her, as she went with her hostess to the suite of rooms that she would occupy in her new home, the welcome she had received fortelling her happiness and contentment. The passin? days found Elife happy and contented in hernewhome. Society, hear ing of her chartns, of wealth, style and b.-auty, came to her feet. Each day and every hour she was in demand—moonlight nights for tobogganing, dark Dights for skating in the well-lighted rink, where it was pure pleasure to glide around in lime to the military b.ind music that pulsed on the frosty air." Elise waltzed very grace fully on her skates, and was never at a Io«s or partners. The officers of the 101 st regiment sought eagerly for the spare dance*, and many a younj subaltern lost his heart to Elise for "tha: winter, at least, fur it is a known fact that the "subs." are attacked with heart trouble once a week, if not oftener. Then what merry parties crowded in the large ten-hone sleighs for a ride to the Ten-mile House, for a dance and supper, and returned at 2 A. M. Receptions at tjovernment House, and lectures of the Koval Academy of Science; concerts in the Academy of Music, and balls at the barracks or Admiralty Court. She even joined the various charitable ciul>s,an<i de voted some time to good wor!;?. ami visited the hospital twice a wetk to read to the sick. Both Madame Irwin and her husband treated her as a daughter a-.d grew very fond of the lovely girl; her sweet and vi vacious ways took by ttonu the warmest corner in their hearts. And Cnauncy looked on in mute, lazy wonder at the en ergetic who accomplished so much with so little apparent trouble. EHm on her part treated Chaur.ey in a perfectly frier..Ky way, but underneath i this friendly treatment sec-nied a strata j of scorn and contempt for '.ii lence and lack 1 f energy. '' Ie finding I :;:i ■.;■ ihe library, wh«a k up s-iaje poem for - '.uk I the spoke of ihe .-a j.vt that lay nearest her heart. She wanted to organize a com mittee to give the children of the deaf and dumb school a sleigh-ride and supper, and turning to Chauncy she said, sweetly, '"Oh, Mr. Chauncy, won't tou help me?" '■Willingly," he'said, smiling into the pretty, eager eyes. "How much do you want '!'' '"Oh, no money," said Elise, "only your I valuable assistance to help us arrange matters." "Ah," said Chauncy, sinking back on I the comfortable chair; ''I really could I not bother thin chilly weather to give I ti.osp children of silence a drive. It wmild bore me to death." Klise turned a scornful, surprised look on I him, and turned to leave the room, Baying with great emphasis: "How I despise a man without energy or vim, and as selfish as you are." Chauncy, left alone, colored to the roots of his blonde hair. Never in all his whole easy-going life had any one dared to tell him he was lacking in anything. It was a new and strange experience for this petted child of fortune, lie bit his mus tache angrily, as he said: "What a little cat it is, but how pretty she looked through it all." And something like a bright llash glowed in the usually calm blue eyes for a moment. He met her again at dinner, but she said never a word, or even glanced his way. She seemed absorbed in thought, as the trilled with her desert. Then leav ing the table she seemed utterly uncon scious of Chauncy's admiring eyes that followed the lithe, graceful figure from the room. From that day the still, undiscovered depths of his being seemed disturbed. An angel had touched the [>00l of love and its waters were troubled and milled. Never again the old lazy calm, the indolent way, the utter want of energy. And his parents saw, marveled and were glad of anything that would arouse him to life and its wants and purposes. Spring had come, warm and pleasant, and one never to be forgotten night Elise went down to the boat-house and was busily engaged getting her row boat un derway. It was full moon, and the beauty of the night had tempted her out; the calmness of the water allured her to a row. ChauiKV had made up his mind during those winter months that Elise and she alone would make life worth the living. His love and admiration increased by those months of near companionship, but Elise never noticed with smile or glaine or word his efforts to be more than friend ly. However, love can live on very frugal fare, and Chauucy said George Eliot's "0 me! O, me! what frugal cheer My love do:o feed upon! A touch, a ray that is not here, A shadow that is gone. The I remor of a banished fear, An i'l tint war v t done. O, me! O, me! what frugal cheer Afy love doth feed upon." As Chauncy came down to the wharf he hiw her lithe, graceful figure in the moon light bending over the fastenings. He gave no token of his presence till she was stepping in, then he called out: "Miss Elise, may I not go with you ?" "Yes, if you will exert yourself a trifle and help row this boat," replied Elise; "bat I warn yon, I want no loafers, for I intend going round to the harbor and hear the band on the warship ]!ellerophon." "Ah, is not that a ghastly long row thi< warm night?" said Chauncy, with his inual detestation of a little exertion. ''Don't co if you don't want to," said Elise, and she quickly pushed off with her single oar. But Chauncy had had so little chance ever of a private tete-a-tete, he could not resist the temptation that tlii* moonlight night row afforded. He sprang quickly over the gunwale, and picking up an oar kept the boat's head to the cur rent. Once there, the little boat needed but little exertion. But Elise seemed busily feathering her oar, too much so to talk, a*>d the silence was unbroken. How pretty she looked as she bent to the oars, and how steady her strokes. Chauncy gazed in admiration of her muscular, yet graceful movements, and he thought, with quickly beating heart, how he should pro pose that evening. He had quite an opin ion of his looks, money and position—his only through his father's untiring energy. But it brought no blush to his cheek, lie had accustomed himself to it, his by right of s:>nship. He had no idea Elise wou answer in the negative. And then tl silence was broken by Elise, saying brisk in her musical voice : '"Mr. Chauncy, hay you any object in life—any aim, any pu (io*p, any ambition?" This query broke in on his rever "Ye.^, oh, yes," stammered Chauncv, " was just thinking of making a coutidan of you about my one hope in life." '"■Yes," said Elite eagerly, her who pretty face lighting up; "I am so glai What are your plan*? 11 "Don't you really know them?" aske< Chauncy. "Cannot cvpii gue«s," replied Elise. " am not a mind-reader, and you have nev hinted the subject to me, so please doa call me stupid," Chauncy lifted his oars slowly and d liberate!y, as if weighing his words wit them, then said, ''My one hope, one desi in life, is to call you my wife. I love you better than any woman 1 have ever met. I would be a better and a nobler man with your love to help me. May I hope? My whole soul is yours to do with as you will," he continued passionately. But something in Eiise's strange silence smote the warm words he was about to utter with a chill, and he stopped short, the eagtr light in his eyes aiving place to doubt and despair. As Elise turned he head away from his eager gnzo her wort seemed to penetrate the moonlighted ;• lence, the tones vibrating and clear, tfc words cutting and sarcastic, words tha killed and wounded to the death all hopes that w short a time since were warm wit lire. "Love you? Be your wife?" she sai» slowly and clearly. "Have I ever give you any reason to think 1 would marry man who has literally no vocation in life, no interest in anything, save indolent pleasure, aod that pleasure only for him- Here the clear voice quavered percepti bly, and she paused in her breathless re "Ah, thank you," said Chauncy, bitterly "for your private opinion so openly ex preyed. 1 was a fool to ask such a heart less, unfeeling woman for love, that o course she mu^t be a stranger to, as sh can weigh so correctly in the balance oc cupation with love. I see I was oiUtaken allow me to apologize." The retort came quickly to Elise's lips then, on reflection, she was silent,and ben to her oars. Her pride, her womanliness was in arms; she had spoken her fir; speech in kinduessand shefelt his injustice The moonlight glimmered on the dark calm waters, and the little boat followed path of silver and light. Many boat* wer out, some ladeued with pleasure-seekers others the ship and steamer boats return ing to their floating homes. As they approached the flagship the band music was Boating over the water the sweet strains of a waltz. Every note seemed a hint of love and devotion. Botl Chauncy and Eiise were fond of music and it ought to have had a softeuing effect But with EiUe the iron had entered he soul. And Chauncy, who did love her truly and well, kept silent, for he had been wounded to the quick. Both young, prout and high-spirited —one with truth on he side, the other had allowed his tempe and pride to get control. So the swec music was lost to them ami floated ii waves of sound up to the star-shine asc over the high fir-topped hills. Happy voices and laughter reache< them, bat they sat like graven images ti the music ceased and then lowed home, th glories of the night unheeded, the ripplin waters' beauties uucared fo». The reached home at last, and as they wer fastening the !>oat some good ange prompted Elise to say: "Forgive me won't you?'' Channcy lifted his ha», as he repliei "Yea, but "I—l can't forget. Your lia~:i! D words most nave voiced your tru opinion of me. "Change my opinion, and some day may L::ane,e m» ideas," she said stnil/ gW'i that trie dbagreeabk silence w^ Urmed to the h"i: : e, but Chaom ilk, and fboghl ■ . ..-. a ii.iiiity bstl his indolence and ; irjwarfea life. ;■.. came in three hours later, and talked with his father till the night was far spent. Two days later he left home to enter the Eng lish army, then called into active service to E^ypt. Madame Irwin was nearly heart-broken at his sudden decision. His father, though, felt proud of his resolve to make a name for himself. Elise was absent when he left, but he had not for gotten to leave a polite message of farewell for her. She was very much surprised at the whole aflair, but a lurking suspicion that she herself was the cause of his de parture made her almost regret her rebuk ing words. Her warm heart cculd hardly bear to see Madame Irwin's unreuressed tirief at the absence of her idol. Two years passed and the third year found Eiise unchanged in name, nature or vivacity. She still led the busy social life, and still cared for everything and every body. But over the pretty face had fallen a slight shadow. The pretty, dark-blue eyes had sometimes a mist over them when alone. She had awakeued to the fact that her heart was Chauucy's. His sunny dis position and ways had won her "heart . unconsciously, although her ideas and thoughts were uot all his because of his faults. Letters came from far off Egypt, where he was in active service, telling of dangers braved and battles won. The newspapers were teeming with tales of his bravery, bis energy, his noble deeds of heroism." He had found his work, his true calling, and all his hitherto latent ambition was aroused. Elise read them all. and her eyes tilled with tears sis she wondered if he had forgotten his old love for her, for never a message came. His father's pride in him increased, and he often remarked, "Ah ! 1 knew it was in him," but he little thought that Elise had made his son's whole character by her quick-spoken words that fair night so long ago. It was near Christmas and the last news from Chauncy was that he hoped to spend it with them in the old British town. Gladly and thankfully the family prepared to meet him. Old-time friends came with congratula tions to the proud father, saying, "the Vic toria cross had never bctn worthier won." All was happiness and joy at the Consul's house. The house had been beautifully decorated for Christmas. Long wreaths of evergreen, spruce, mingled with the crimson berries of the mountain ash, were twined round the moldings and arched over windows and doors. Autumn leaves of gorgeous tints were wreathed around the pictures and statuary, and boughs of English mis tletoe and holly were hung from the chan deliers. The great oak-lined dining-room was brilliant with loaves and crimson ber ries. The whole house had a festive air. Even the conservatory had a wealth of blossoming roses and lilies, unusual to it in this cold climate. The snow covered the ground, and the cove and ponds were frozen; but the old British city was revelling in her winter tinery. The market was one mass of green wreaths and hoops and triangles for decora tions. Evpry day saw a queer procession of carts with one ox attached. < m a pile of evergreen sat the colored owner, who disposed of his Christmas decoratious as he passed along at two cents a yard. "Want to buy any weafs, mann," he would ask i>olitely, when a house door wa3 opened to his double knock. "Fweshgween weafs," the cry echoed over the city. Even the soldiers of the various regiments quar tered here were busy decorating. It was no unusual sight to see a red-coat hur rying on, with wreaths looped over his uniform, on his way to the barracks. The church doors stood open, and busy workers plied fingers and needle to deck altar, chancel aud pulpit. Elise, with her many friends, was in great demand, yet through all her work the thoughts wove in and out, "What will bethink? What will he say? Has he forgotton my scornful words? Will his Christmas gift be for giveness for the old pain?"' At last thelMth came; the great steamer was signalled; the little hall that tlew so swiftly up the signal halyards on the citadel unrolled; in a second the English flag floated out —the English steamer was com ing. Boom! boom! —the voice of the ship's gun came over the blue water. Boom ! bang! answered the citadel guns in reply, and up the hnrborcaine the great steamship, with ftigs flying and her broad side encased in a frosty mail armor, that glistened like silver over the red paint. Ciiauncy stood on the deck, impatient to meet his father, who was awaiting at the wharf. His mother waited at home, in happy impatience, the home-coming of lier idol. Elise De Manner, restless and nervous, paced her room till the dressing-bell rang, her blue eyes sparkling, but her face rather paler than usual. She heard the hall doors open, the mother's welcome, the manly musical voice replying. Then all was still, and she sped quickly down the broad stairway and on to the conservatory, her heart beating as if it would choke her, and she wanted time to compose herself to meet Channcy. In a little while she heard his steps, as he came through the fern arbor, and saw his line liynre in mili tary costume. A quick, martial step re placed the old indolent saunter; truly he had changed. He saw her, and she came forward to welcome him, her lovely blush ing lace and shy eyes telling him he was welcome. He took her hand in his and gazed long and earnestly at the pretty, blushing face. Her expression seeemed to amuse his ques tioning eyes. He said softly, "Elise, have you changed your opinion of me?" She raised her dark-blue eyes to his and answered, "Yes, indeed I have." "Then, with my crown of unchanged love for you, will you accept the cross of merit that I won, for a Christmas gift, and may i have your true heart that prompted me to live :i more useful life, in exchange?" And Eiise's happy, tear-brimmed eyes answered yes. So his mother's ward had accomplished her mission. Through love she had molded Cbanncy to lay aside his old habits of iudoleuce and schi^hness, and that happy Christmas brought its reward. "Love and love's sweet offerings Of sm les ami 'iis-es and sweet interchange Of thouijbt, pure as the drifting suow, But warm as suubeams iv a Southern clime." HE SAW NO HODAG. But Mi»»e<l a Still Greater Curiosity on Accuuut of Carelesriness. We had forty-five minutes to wait nt the depot in St. Thomas, and everybody was taking it easy, when a young man from the farm, who was drawn there out of curi osity, perhaps, walked up to a well-dressed maii, who was pacing up and down, and began, in the hearing of a New York Sun reporter: "Say, isn't your name French ?" "It "is, sir," was the reply. "You were running a show in Buffalo last March ?" "I m," "Price of admission was 2-3 cents?" "Exactly." "Well, I was there. I went in. You had a big sign out saying you had a Hodag on exhibition. Bein' as I had never see one, I paid my quarter, but it was an infernal swindle. There was no Hodag there!" "Ah I remember. He was sick for a few d*ys." "Well, I want that quartei back, or I'll take it out of your hide ! When I go in to see a Hodag the animal h:s got to be there or the money comes back.' "Oisile right, my friend," calmly re plied the other. "You happened to hit us when our Hodag was sick, but we gave you a fir greater curiosity in his stead." "What was it?" "The Exit. Didn't you see him ?" "I saw a sign over the door, hut I didn't see no animal." "Well, if you didn't open the door it wasn't my fault. The Exit was there to be seen, and everybody who saw him said he beat four Hodags rolled into one." ''U that 50? Well, I was in too much of a hurry, I guess, and if I have hurt your feelings, I beg your pardon. An Exit isn't a Hodag, but if you were doing the best yon could I have nothing to say." • An exchange says: Pour one tables] o >n fu! of clear solution of tannin (a heaped i ■nful of tannin to a gill of rainwater) i into a tumbler full of the suspected water. I If no turbidity occurs within five hours the ; v,-..K-r is good; it' turbidity occur within i oe boor the water i 3 decidedly unwhole- j fcotue. 9 — H -^Tdfc ON THE CARS "I hßve just come up from Benicia," said a well-known citizen, as he stepped into a ! Carey car at the depot a few days ago. "Been down to see the cfleets of the flood." "What, at Benicia?'' "Oh, no ; went down on ibe steamer this morninsr, and came back by train. You | had it all right in the Record-Union, in last Saturday's paper. There is not much more to be added to that account, except that as the lules are filling up the water at Walnut Grove is a good deal higher in Old river than your reporter found it." "Any thing special you think of?" "No. Hold on; yes, there was—l laughed so; well, I'll tell you as soon as we get out of this confounded racket here at the de pot. "You see, on the steamer were a lot of river pilots going down to take observa tions. When we got to the mouth of the Sacramento, one of the pilots drew me over to the group and said he had a curiosity to show me—and it wts a daisy !' "What was it?" "Why a light-bnu^e. Did you know the I United States Government maintains a i light-house at the mouth of the Sacramento river?" "No, nor doe 3 anyone else." "Oh, yes, the pilots do. There it stands on the right-band side, a few miles below Kio Vista. IMI you the people ought to be grateful to Uncle Samuel for his splen did liberality in erecting and maintaining the tiling. The chap that is light-keeper must have a good thing of it, too. It is simply a piece of twelve-foot scantling, stuck up in the marsh. At the top an arm, four or rive feet long, bticks out like a gal lows tree. To the end of this is lashed a pulley, and Ihrongh ii runs a bed cord. Yon see,' said the pilot, and all his com panions grinned concurrence, 'this is the chief navigable river of the great State of California, BO the Government thought something handsome ought to be dune for it. Accordingly, it went to the expense of erecting this superb structure. Oh, don't be incredulous. It is a regularly entered, registered and inspected light. A chap comes out here in a boat every evening and runs a two-bit iantern up chuck a-b!ock, and tber*'s your light.' " 'Your j idling,' said I. " 'Not a bi',' replied the pilot. " -Well, how is it that—' " 'Stop there.' said another of the pilots. 'There isno'it" nor"but" in thecase. That is the provision I'ncle Sam, God bless him, makes for the safe navigation of this broad stretch of water, for the river is here more than a mile in width, and it's not all chan nel by a long shot.' " Oh, it's a good one,' broke in ano'he of the group. 'Yon see, sir, that when it i so muggy we need a shore light as a guide we can't see the cuesed thing at .ill; when it is clear weather we don't need it—s there you have it in a nutshell.' "Well, I giz.dat the lighthouse as long as I could see the gaunt arm sticking ou over the water, and then I fell to musing— fur it happens that I was in the light-hous service once, in a sort of a way; I was Pur ser or Captain's Clerk on the Light-hous Inspector's boat up coast. I thought tha f.ir the insignificant sum of live thousand dollars, or less peihaps, the Government could sink half a dozen iron-cased piles into the marsh land, and on top, at a bight of say thirty or thirty-live feet, put a small corrugated iron light-keeper'a box. with, a good white, steady light for the additiona sum of one thousand dollars, or a flash light for five hundred more. Then the keeper could, whenever needed, lower a 'bug-light' tv the water's edge. Anyhow for six thousand dollars I will take th c-mtract to put a decent light-Louse am light at the month of the Sacramento river. Uncle Sim bsi queer ways of doing however. Some day, for want of a decen light at the place referred to, there may b a terrible accident and great loss of life and then you tell me who will be to blame? By, by; I get off here. Say, don' give my name if you please, if you tel the story, it isn't necessary—the light-house is there to speak for itself." George Watson, Coroner Clark's able as sistant at the Morgue, has the reputation of being an irrepressible practical joker. Hia latest vic;im is Ljuis Me»er, the hackman. It happened on the first day that the sun showed itseif after the storm. "Wat," as the Morgue assistant is l'imiliarly called by his acquaintances, took advantage of the change in the weather and went out for a ride on the cars. He was wrapped up in a deep contemplation of the beauties of na !ure, and was a picture of peace and con tentment. Sudds uly he was rudtly aroused from h'u reverie by the shrill voice of Meyer, who h»d just boarded the car : •'Hello, Wai I "Hello, yourself." Meyer came over and took a seat beside his friend and began to grumble about the mud and hnrd times. He bewailed the fact that he had only earneds3oO during th" past wtek, und announced bis intention of se<king pastures i.ew if things didn't brighten up pretty soon. "I tell you what it ip, Wat." whined Meyer, ' I'm goi:/ to give up Lack-driving. There's natfain' in it ;ike tlitre used to was. I'd like to get a new job—something fa?y, of course, but at the same time, somethin' whal'll pay good money." "Are you in earnest about it?" asked Watson, looking as seriou; as a Jud^e. "Course I am," quickly replied ihe dis contented hackman. "Do you know of a j.)i> for me, VTat? ' "Yes, sir; I've got just the thing your are looking for." ■•Bully!" 'How would you like to be a hunter?' "Wouldn't want natfain' better," arid the hackman clapped his hands with glee. "All right then; just gst out your shot gun to-morrow ard go out into the country ' and shoot all the owls you can. "I'll give 1 you six bis for every owl g:zz.ird you bring "Six bit? ! do you nif an it ?" "Of course I do. Why shouldn't I? I can get a dollar a piece for them. Will you do it?" ' You bet I will. Wat, give me your hand. You're the best friend I've got in Sac-aniento." Well, he went out next day, sure enough. And on the day after he marched into the morgue with a dozen dead owls. "There you are Wat." he said joj fully, as he threw the bundle of carcasses down. "Nine dol lars, if you please." "Ob, no," said the joker, "I don't want the bodies; I only waLt the gizzards. You have to stick to the agreement, or no money. Take them aiouud to a poultry dealer and get them cut open." Meyer did so. He told the poultry man what he wanted, and the latter broke into a wild, hysterical fit of laughter. "What's tbe matter with you?' 1 asked I Meyer, in all seriousness. "Why, you idiot," gasped the fowl dealer "belween his spasms of laughter, "don't you know that owls haven't eot any gizzards? Ha! ha! ha!" and the poor man bad to hold his sides for frar they would burst. Meyer didn't laugh a bit. He immedi ately reloaded his shot gun and inarched to the Morgue. He has been lying in ambush in that vicinity ever since. Paul Jones, a well-known amateur ath lete of San Francisco, and member of the Dlympic and California Clubs, stopped for , i day in Sacraiiento daring the week, on :;;-! return trip from Europe. A reporter captured him on a J-street Mr, and inquired about the trip. "Well," said Paul, "I was at the Eipcsi :ion, but no doubt that ha 3 been written to ieath in tbe newspapers by this time, so I won't worry you with anything about that, :xcept that I enjoyed it immensely After leeing the big show I went over to Eng and and remained there until smarting for lonie. By tbe wav, while I w»s in Lon- i lon. I naturally took considerable notice of | ithletics and athletic cicb«, being some- ' hing of an athlete myself. I was very ' nuch disappointed with their amateurs, in ill branches of stuietics. There is scarcely , I legitimate amateur there, so far as I :ould see. All are mure l?ss involved in ' professionalism, and it would be hard to iccept them as entries in a genu ne American amateur tournament or jompetition of any k'nd. But the pro- ' 'essional athletes over there are all good, rhere are some world-beaters among hem, and I was grtatly impressed wi'.h ;heir eeneral advocacy and support of fair ->.ew.-. iv sports. Iv this cur professionals do ~,ot compare with them as a ru!e. They bavc a jampot ever there, Darby—you have often read of him—and there is no ' use of denying that he is a phenomenon in i every sense of the word. I saw him in ex- j hibition three or four times, and each time became more impressed with his wocder- ! ful powers as a jumper. Why, I saw him i clear over fjrty-or.e feet in three sanding | jumps, wiih heavy dogs on his feet; ever twenty-sis feel in two standing jumps; live ! [Vet four inches in a standing high jump; ' jumps over two chairs placed twenty-one' feet apart, and many other marvelous feats ' which I cannot remember now. Betidts : this he is the lightest man on his ieet I I ever saw. He will jump upon a person's back and oft again wuhuut the person fee! ing an ounce of pressure, and be will step upon tg;j3 placed two ar.d tbrai i:i « TOWI without breaking tbo the"- ntul they 818 1 not wooden eggs, either. Ht's a daisy! »"d ! no mistake." The mud was ankle deep, and it was raining cats an-.i dogs as the car 1 ulltd up at the corner of Tenth and N streets. "Here you are, madam,'' snid the driver, poking his head inside th«" do>>r. Then there arose a big woman, a handsome wo man, a woman of avoirdupois, ai,u grit and , bad L'rumniar. "You just turn this oar around and go| back, Mister driver. I told you M strrt-r, / and here you have carried me a !>lo< k <tv of the way, and it raining s", and me whu no umbreller, too, and my rubbers at home; you just turn your o.d bob-tailed cart eround and go back, or I'll sue Carey and make him think it worth while to hire driven who can hear." "Why. madam, you surely said N street." "I said nothing ol the kind, you old frowzy-headed beast. You are just as bad as the marktt men. They, confound them, are forsverand eternally mixing up things, M and N" s'reets, and getting up pretty scandal, too, sometimes. There's my sis ter's husbdud—he went and sent a Thanks giving turkey home; he's got a sweetness over on N Etree!—though goodness knows the woman don't encourage him, but she's no fool and takes *hat he sends." "Come, madam, don't keep this car slanding here " "Shut up, will you, I'm telling this story, and I'm gjing to tell it while you pull back to M street —you mind that. Well, he seat his wife up a Thanksgiving turkey and that market man delivrtd it on 5> street, the numbers are the same. Well, it all came out, and if Kiizi didn't kick up a row— Are you going to turn this oar around?" 'Well," exclaimed an old citiz»p, when the indignant woman had been induced to alight, 'I sympathize with that person. I know of scores of casss every week of in convenience and annoyance, because of the mistakes due to the similarity of sound in the names of those streets, and the fact that they are numbered alike." "They are not similar," replied a stout man in the corner. "The correct name of M street is Capitol avenue. It is the only avenue the city hps, and if the officials and business men would s;»-ak of it as the ave nue, in v few weeks all the town would be using that tit'e. Some places of business on the avenue have their signs out now, 'Capitol Avenue.' " '"Yes," added another. "1 here's Rev. Mr. Merrill, for instance; he and a newspaper man 1 know of often get each other's goods, and one Christmas they Bay the parson's turkey went wrong, too, and that the news paper man's people got it and cooked it, thinking it had been sent home by him. lie denied it stoutly, but they say the par son believes it, all the same." "YVs," said H. G. May, the market man, on being spoken to about it, as he got on the car on the return trip, at the corner of Tenth and L. 'Yea, that's so; the deliver ers of goods do mix things up on those two streets. Why, even the Directory has errors in it, and locates some M street peo ple on X street. Look at the case of lum ber dpaler Frazer, for instance, and see how the Directory distributes his family. Yes, the street ought to be always spoken of as the avenue." "Doctor" James Curti?, the city's genial janitor, is a heavy loser from the recent brfak in the Yolo levee, and his ranch over there is under several feet of water yet. Despite this, however, the "doctor" is pursuing the even tenor of his way, as jovial and good-naturid as usual. A friend was istonbhed upon behold ing the "doctor's" beaming countenance last Friday on a street car, and remarked that a gloomy and sad expression would be more becoming, considering the disasters occasioned by the break. •'Why sh sh-should 1 be sad?" asked the "doctor" in reply. "I'm not a loser at all." "Well," said the friend, "I thought yon were. Your place is flooded, your im provements washed away, jour poultry and stock drowned, and your house is in danger now. How do you get around all that?" '"Easy enongh," replied 'lie City Janitor pleasantly, yet seriously. "I've g-g got the m-ni-inost elegant crop of cat-!i?h on my place now that you ever saw. And the best of it is, there is a b-b-b-barbed-wire fence around m rn-m my place, so they can't get out. You see, now. you are an alarm ist." ART NOTES. Herman Schurig, the (ierman sculpto-i] has come to this country to make a bust of M. Meissonier is the first painter ever raised to the dignity of Grand Cross of the Legion of Honor. Professor John F. Weir, of the Yale Art School, has prepared a model for a bronze statue of ex-President Woolsey. The statue will be completed in about three months and placed in the campus at Yale. I A monument to Samuel Slater is to be I unveiled at Pawtncket on .Inly 12, IS9O, the centennial anniversary of the first op- I nation of cotton-ppinning machinery in America, of which machinery Mr. Slater was the maker. A substantial citizen of Norwalk, Conn., has determined to leave that flourishing town because a marble Venus de Medici on his lawn has been ruined with red paint and hung with flannels and shawls by cer tain local wits. Mrs. Lnman Andrews, a well-known botanist and artist at Soathinjrton, Cunn., is engaged in the study of the complete flora of Connecticut, and each plant, with its l)iid and blossom, is painted as nearly actual size as possible. The site of the Temple of Pespoir.a at Lykasoara, Greece, has been found. A colossal torso, three heads of statues larger than life, the base of a marble throne, temple inscriptions, and a great quantity of ex votos in terra cotta are in the find. Many of the latter are effigies of rams and s< rpents. A fitting memorial window is being erected in the Sago Chapel at Cornell College by the students in civil engineer ing, in memory of Kdward S. Nevins, the hero of the class of ">>o, who lost his life last winter while endeavoring to save that of a young woman who fell through the ice. Ex-President A. 1). White suggested this when in Egypt. The excellent etcher, Karl Koepping, who was recently award a medal at the I'aris Exposition, resides at present in Ber lin. Koepping is one of the etchers who _'et the highest prices for their works. For] the plate of Mtinkacz-sv's celebrated pic- j lure, "Christ before Pilate," he reeeivea no lets than $12,000. The first prints were f*>nglit by Englishmen and Americans at ?400. At the Louvr" has been completed the mosaic for the central cupola of the grand ,!:iirr:ise. It consists of four a fossa] figures lesigncd by Lencpren, representing France, Italy, Germany and Plunders; beneath :hem are four medallions with portraits of E'oussin, Raphael, I>uer and Rubens; and ill around the cupola are filenames of jreat artists of the four nations. The exe-1 :ution of the mosaic has been the work of he Roman artist Vanntelli, for whom lirect request was made to the Pope and vho has proved his fitness for the commis liOD. The portraits of his children shown by \bbott 11. Tnayer at the exhibition of the society of American Artists are in Chica [O. The critic of the Chicago Daily J&as ■emarks of them: '"Perhaps the painter more than usually inspired in this »ork because of love for the subjects. Pcr iaps he can paint other children as won lerftilly as he has these—if so, he is the deal painter of the day in portraits of children. This work is auions; the few jroductions of contemporary art which ar<» usily entitled to be called works of genius. [ think, in the deepest analysis that can id made of it, the secret of this portrait's ■emarkable charm will be found in it-> I pirituality and exquisitely-refined exprCE iion of character. The very nature of the '. .wo children seem to be painted as well as ■ h(;ir outward furms." The aoopolis of Yeii, an Eastern city ;ajjtured and dismantled by its neighbors of Rome under Camilla*, B. C. 393, has yielded this year <i surprising <|Uantity of votive offerings in term ootta ami bronze. They found a stratum 330 feel long, 50 feet wide and from 3to 4 feet deep, in a few weeks 2,000 object! worth preserving were collected, including 117 statuettes of goddesses veiled. There are ")'J varieties of objects representing parts of the body ollered in the temple either as a means to drive away disease or in thankfulness for pains that had departed. Heads, ears, months, eyes, busts, arms, bands, linger?, breasts, spine-, bowels, leg*, feet and toes are represented. There are figures cut throngn the breast showing the organs within,deformed children and monstrous births, torsos without arms and legs, nnn~ without hands, legs without feet, and ob jects representing every part of the male and female body. There are statues the size &f life, with, arms inserted and mova ble, magnificently draped female effigies, and some of nursing mothers. The ani mal figures show rats, wild boars, sucking !"1~, oxen, mas, horses, rams and sheep. There are fruits ol many kinds, and even the round, small friends of childhood called marbles. "We heard of the exist ence of this singular vein of ex-YOtos," writes SUnor Lanciani to the Athauzvm, " from a |>o:icher, to whom every recess of the Macchia della Keginri is thoroughly familiar." DOINGS AT FOLSOM. Heavy rasxengrr Trillin-- Tin- Ame;iran Kiver Ilrhlge All Itiglu. r Fo!tom Telegraph, Deoembei -Jli-t ] The freight train on Tms.iay bar! an un usual number of cars attached to i; The majority of the cars were loadel wilh broken granite for use by the railroal com pany on the Knight's Landing division. Supervisor Ross was up here on Satur day last looking into the c >ndiiion of the American river bridge. Some ODe had been complaining of it, but the Supervisor informed us 1 hat be could not tiud that any cause for complaint exsted. On Saturday evening the roller skates that have been lying idle in Firemen's Hall were taken dowD, oiled up and used by numerous ot the voucg people of Ful som. A young German named (ieorge I'ippy died at the Western Hotel Friday morning about :'> o'clock. He had been sTick two or three days with sore throar, but neglected to call in medical attendance until too late. The freight and passenger trains have all been crowded with passengers for several days past, and it seems that tilings in that line are improving with the railroad com pany. A great ranny of the passengers are going and coming on visits to relatives here and below to spend the holiday season. A good many were going into El Dorado county to lake up land. At the regular meeting of Granite Palor, No. 83, held on Saturday evening, the fol lowing officers were elee'ed for the ensuing term : J. L. WalHs, Past President: .1 E. IJurke, President; N. Wubbena, First Vice- President; I. Hyman, Second Vice-Presi dent; T. G. Barton, Third Vice-President; Thad. J. McFarland, Secretary ; Ed. Riley, Marshal. At the regular meeting of Young Men's Institute, No. 6!l, of this place, the follow ing officers were elected for the ensuing year: J. P. Cox, President: John 1!. Leon ard, First Vice-President; Charlfs Mars, Second Vice President: Thomas Creaney, Treasurer; Jason White, Recording Secre tary; J. B. Harris, Financial Secretary: John Hoey, Marshal. SAN FRANCISCO STOCK SALES. BAH Fbascisco, I a ember Jl, 1889. MORHINB SESSION. Ophir S 29 Audes 10345 c Meiics.j 2 SO@2 40 Sccri.ion He G. AC 1 :>i Caledonia lnal".c B. &B 2 40®2 45 S. Hill 2 Con. Va 4 2.5 Challeuw.. 1 20 Ravage 1 50 Occidental t»c Unouar 2 3502 S'lißenton 4 00 PotoM 1 S6@l vi COll. N. V l«@lsc U. AN 1 45 W. Comstock... ';0c Poiut 1 85 Eureka :: 25 Jacket 1 SB I-rfze SCQe Imperial Sc Navajo 30|c. c Kentucky 4Oasoc,Belle Isle i Alpha M)ißsc Mt. Diablo Belcher 1 90 N. Belle 151e....l 10 Confidence :» 30 Queen - 8. Sev 1 !*j@il 95 Com'wea!th...'2 91 Utan BS£6oc N. lorn'wealth. 7.5 c Brtllion 30c Bodle 85«70c Exchequer 80c Mono i Scg. Belcher 80c Dudley Overman 1 65 Peer...'. lOtelVs Justice 1 20 Crocker "."5c Hnlon 2 'M Peerlesn 2i(S3oc Alta J SOTusearora 5c Julia :»o Locomotive : Lady Wash :Juc SODTHERH PACIFIC OOMPA X JY« PACIFIC SYal C3f. Novomtoer 17, 1388, Tralna LEAVE a*jrt are dne to Af BITS »| SACRAMENTO. LEAVE. ! TRAINS RUN DAILY. JaRRIVK. 6:30 a' Calistoga and Kapa 11:40 \ 3:08 P Calistotca and Napa 7:' is P 11:00 P ....Ashland and Portland 3:40 A 7:05 P ..Deming, E! Paso aiif" Sast.. 6:45 P 7:23 P Knight's Landing 7:10 A 9--00 A Los Angela) 0:55 A B:OoP°Sd?n and^E^t - Sucond 6:g . p ISOI A -Central AtlanHc Express.. ... on . IJ-U1 * For Oifden aud Ka«l °00 A 3:00 1' Oroville 10:30 A 3:00 P...Red BluflviaMaryßTille... 10:30 A U':4t> A Reddi:ipvia Wli'lovrs 4:00 P 6:IS A ..Sbu Francisco via B.nicis.. 7:35 p 6:50 ALSan VrandKoTiaßenicia. «:33 p Si»O PiwSan Francisco Tia Benicia. imoa 4:00 A ..Sun Francisco via B t r.iria.. lo^o P ♦10:00 A ...S*u Francisco via :!. ,r i: : ()0 A 11:^5 A SmiFranciscoYiaLiv, rmon ■i:-15 P 6:50 P ..Sau Francisco via Btnicip.. 11:40 P 11:86 Al San Jo«e 2:J.>5 P 7:«» P Santa Barbara D:.-».-> a 6:50 A Santa Rosa 11:10 A 3:05 P| Santa Rosa 7:85 P s>:00 A Stockton and Gait 6:45 P 7:OB > Stockton and 'ialt 0:53 A «:<>O P Truckee and Hum o : !"5 A 1^:01 A; Truckee and Reno 0:00 X 12:O5 V Colfax 11:«0 A 6:. r.O A Valleio 11:40 P 3:05 P 1 Valie'o t«:35 P •12:1? p F.vs-m APlacen';c'miied)*lo:aa A •7:iO A:...F0180m and Placerville... 1 »S:4O P »fi:3o Pi F0150m.... «0:30 A •Euaday CTcepted. fSunday only. jMoniay excepted. A.—For morning. P.—For after noon. A. N. TOWNF, General Manager. T. H. GOODMAN, General Passenger aad Ticket Agent. tf&.-n HOLIDAY GOODS. THE FINEST ASfeOSTMfST EVER OFFUUI) IS SACI£A>IE.NTO. New Styles In Fancy Article« for Christ mas GiflK, KUCiI US LAP TABLETS, TOILET CA-F.3, AL3l>r3, BOOKLETS, ETC. H. 8. CROCKER i CO., 208 210 J street. nIT-tfi.Su CALIFORNIA STATE BANK. SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA. Doea a Ueneral Banking linslnetr. D-aws Drallson all Principal Cities of the World. office e»: President „ N. D. KIDSOFI Vice-Preaident FRED'K COX Cashier A. ABBOTT !i>>sis;am Cashier W. K. <<KKiIEB DIHSXTOBfI: C. W. Clash, ; f. Steffihs, Gko. C. Pep.e:>-8, Fbeo'i Ccx, N. D. Rideoct, J H. Watson, W. E Giuber. di3u'.t NATIONAL BANK" -or- D. 0. MILLS & CO., Karramt'iito, Cal.—Founded, 1850. DIRECTORS AND SHAREHOLDERS. B. O. MILLS i 588 Sbarei EDCJAK MJI.L.H, Pretldeut 1,538 Share* J. PRENTISB SMITH. V!ce-Pre» 280 Bh»re» ?RANK MILLER, Cashier 851 Share* :HA3. F. DILLMAN, A»«t. Cashier.. 125 Sharea )ther persons own l.iog Share* Capital and Sorplns, 8000.000. *t- Chrome Steel Safe Deposit T»nl» >Ofl Time I.oik. dASu A. A. Van Voorhies & Co. unficnm ajtd [sfostsb or Saddles), IXameas. Saddlery Hard«ra-e, Coi'ars Whip*, Horse Clothing, Robes, Leather and Bboe r iudings Carriage irlßUQisgt, Kic. 522 and 324 .! Miv<;, Haeramenio. dl3-lmlpA£u "TNTERNATIONALrHOTEL, T7- STEEKI". BET. llili;!' ni, j\ Bacnunento, Ii i iiuCK.nget m ; 13 rents i«n) upwards, (.ro! furnished rrx'ms by .huriAv, woe* oi mom:-. i7-UsUu W. A. CASWSI L, Ptoprietor.