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Written for T*s Ermno Stab. \ SPORT IN WEST VIRGINIA. A Vast Wilderness Where the Locomo tive is Never Heard. SEAR. MH Airs CATAMOCSTS I* ABUHDABCE. bct the wild ttoeetb rraxisa txb moot nrs?now thet ass hcsted? ris?n?o is m ?OrXTAIS STKEAMS. (Copyright. 1MB.) 5o Mttorn ntat? invt pomibij northern Maine) can afford aa good sport with rifle, shot run or fly hook as West T:r*ima. In ite '?eater lies an area aa bin as all Massachusetts, where the game-scaring noise of the locomotive to never heard. A laige part of this area, to be to well settled (in spots) and to traversed by a network of roads, bnt half of It lies np among the rampart-like cloud-bearing ridges of the Allegbaniea, or amid the rough foot hill* that border them, where extensive farming to out of the question. Such a condition of things makes the region ? natural game preserve, the wilderness bar boring the wilder beasts and birds, while the clearings favor an increase of small birds and humbler game. The earliest settlers were hunters and trappers, quite as much as farmers. In those days Dison and elk wandered all over these mountains, and the last buffalo in this state was not killed until 1815 and the last elk five rears later. These and the beaver are irrevocably gone, but bears and wolves, pan thers and wildcats, foxes, deer, small game and birds remain, and no man can fail of sport if he cares to seek it, by canoe or horseback, at a ] little distance from the railways. Sometimes, indeed, the game comes to him. It to a com mon incident on West Virginia railways for a | train to chase a deer along distance,the panic stricken animal striving to the last instant to outdistance its terrible pursuer, and frequently paying with its life for its reluctance to jump from the track. M-attor* gHOornra. la winter they often come out into the roads and are shot or caught in somebody's door yard. I heard an old miller relate, with moat ludicrous pantomime, how he had seized a buck by the horns and held his head down by main strength, while it kicked about 2 rods backward the neighbor who incautiously ap proached from the rear; but the old man (ne was young and sinewy then) hung on and twisted the deer's bead in spite of its struggles, until his wife could come with a butcher's knife and cut the poor creature's throat. It was formerly the practice to run deer with dogs and every countryman kept hounds, bnt it was seen not only that this was ruining sport, but caused disturbance of the cattle grazing upon the hill pastures and prevented the keep ing of sheep. It is now against the law to hunt deer with hounds and they have not only mul tiplied bnt have fled into these protected moun tains from other states. Killing them by any means is unlawful, except from September 15 to December 15. except upon "premises set apart for the protection and propagation of game within tne boundaries thereof." This clause mean*, principally, the tract on Cheat river, owned by an association of sportsmen in and out of the state, which has probably the best hunting and tishing preserve on the Atlan tic slope, frominent in this association are member* of the South Fork club, the breaking of whose dam caused the disaster in the Cone ma ugh valley. BEAK HTSTOtQ. Bears have always been plenty in these mountains. There is a story extant of a pioneer who killed thirteen one morning near the White Sulphur. This shows that thirteen to an unlucky number for bears. That would be a good day's work at present, but the man who goes hunting for bears anywhere in the eastern part of the state can find them if he knows his business. Both bear hunter and deer stalker are very likely to encounter wild cats or lynxes now and then, and more rarely a panther, a "painter." as the southern backwoodsmen call them. The former, known by the descriptive name of "bob cat" and "catamount" (really cat-of-the monntain). visit the fowl yard now and then, and when hard pressed may seize a lamb, but for the most part they subsist upon "squeeruls, rabbits, chipmunks and sich-like insecks," as aa old citizen informed me. WOLVES ASD PANTHERS. The panther, however, to a constant menace to the sheep fold and to the calves of the hill pastured cattle, while a great number of deer are destroyed by it every year, and moet wan tonly so, for the brute often does no more than to suck a draft of blood and then go in search of another victim. Wolves were able to breed so plentifully dur ing and following the war in forested and thinly-settled mountain counties that they presently became a terror to travelers in winter and did immense damage to live stock. Some times bands would make long forays from their native haunts and they almost put an end to aheep raising in the very districts best adapted to it. Now a bounty to paid for their scalps and wolvee are diminishing. Foxee are still numerous, principally the in troduced red one; but many native gray foxes still remain. They are hunted in winter with dogs. Coon* and 'possums furnish local sport and squirrels, hares and the like are always present ? (? wild xraarr saoonvo. Ssxt to the deer and fox. however, the wild torksy to the moet important game, and onee la a while they come down into the farming ?alleys, discovering their mistake too lata, aa a rale, to save their feathers. I had a chat recently with an old mountain eer and hunter, who was asked abcut wild tar keys oa the hills up Elk river and whether he ever shot them. "Wall, yes," he replied, "thar's right -smart a' turkeys up thar'. I kave eaw several 'long "Do you shoot many?" "Consid'ble, sometimes, but Lord! they n to be right common. Why, Old Moller n' ? ?you know ol' man Moller dowa at Swamp Bon??well he and me laid in the blla's. right side by side, oas day, Axed, yoa know, eo's we woald a both oa as shoot at the same bird, yoa onderstan*. aad bymby here oooae a whole flock ol 'eai aad we killed right thar eleven of ?m t woald weight sight pounds aet tkat to, t anderstaa*? light 'Uveas Is rbty-eight pounds of Beat in "oae morula'^ "Did yoa ever kill more than one at a shot?" "Onct I did-ha! ha! I had aa ol'shotgun aad was a-lyin' oa ay face in the hlia' where 1 pat aoeae oo'a to kiad o' toto 'eat aloag, you know, and pretty soon here come three oP hens a-tiptoe-in' aloag. stretchin' tha'r ?ecks aad Beetle' aroun' to eee f hit wee all right I reckon they thought it was. for they bagaa a-peckin'^ here and a-pickia' thar at the co n, at leTKhejfwae right eioee. Then I let''em have it and Til bo diaged tf I dida't t all three o< 'eat evah, "Two ot /ees feUj^ht thar, bat the ?*?*f14 **? enlv a tingle baled gun, ro? un derstan. V so I just up and chased her. Bat ?be had a heap o' go in her yet, and would J amp boat ten foot every clip, got plam away down the mountain. So I come back to 1 the others, and make a grab for one with one hand and for the othah with the othah hand, n' you'd a Unshed if you'd a aeen ua. the tur keys s-floppinf and a-pullin' me first thia way, then that, and I a-jumping roun' tryin' to keep my feet and choke the onerr critters till they waa quiet, 'a it waa some while 'for* I bested I am." Aa for the (mailer game birds?grouse (or pheaaant), quail, woodcock. Ac.?they are to be found all over the state in satisfactory num ber*. The aeaaon for wild turkev opens Sep tember 13, that for grouse and wild fowl Octo ber 1 and that for quail (here called partridge) October 10. Trapping and netting of birds is forbidden, and also the pursuit of wild fowl to their covert* with swivel"guns in punts. Wood cock and snip* are only protected under the jteiwal law which forbida the killing of song WRITPIX9 A STREAM. Fishing, of course, is excellent here and poor there. Large rivers, like the Kanawha aud Big Sandy, contain the varied fishes that ascend them from the Ohio?cattish, mullets, gars, Ac.. Ac. But the angler ascends the inouutain streams and will find in almost or quite all the larger ones black bass in plenty, while the clear brooks, cascading down their rocky chan nels. abound in trout. The trout season ex tends from April 1 to June 15, but other fish can be caught by hook and line or spear from April to December. The law is fairly observed over most of the state, and as a large number of salmon have been placed in the mountain streams and carp in the more sluggish wat-rs. West \ irginia is likely to prove good angling ground for s long time to come. Ekskht Inqebsoll. AT THE PARIS EXPOSITION. Two Objects of the Greatest General Interest. TH* WOXDESPTTL EIFFEL TOWER AND THE MTSTI fyino phonograph?how crowds are car ried TO TH* TOP OF TH* TOWER?THOUSANDS TRYING TH* MACHINE?IDISON's EXHIBIT. Correspondence of Thk Eveninq Star. Paris. August 20. In the immense multitude of striking ob jects in the Paris exposition there are two which excite the most universal and unflagging interest?the Eiffel tower and the phonograph. It may seem sbsurd to compare two such dis similar things, but in one respect they are alike?in the attention they attract and the wonder they excite. One is the work of a French engineer and the other the product of American genius. Both produce their wonder ful results by the manner in which metal is moulded to human uses by human skill. One appeals to the eye and the other to the ear. TH* TOWER, formed almost entirely of thin strips of iron woven into a graceful fabric nearly 1,000 feet high, dominates the whole scene and forms the prominent landmark of Paris as you approach it from all sides. It attracts every eye and calls forth expressions of wonder from all tongues. Every day the four elevators are thronged by visitors eager to asccnd. At the second stage, where the last elevator is taken, you must usually wait an hour in a spiral queue in order to form one of the squad of sixty to be earned to the top. And this is going on all day ajud day after day without intermission. It is the great success of the exposition, both in a scientific and pecuniary point of view. TH* PHONOGRAPH. But down in the great machinery hall, which looks so small from the top of the tower, is the other object alluded to which attracts scarcely less attention?the phonograph. It is made of metal also, but stands upon a small table.occupy lng for each instrument scarcely a foot of space. 1 here is nothing in its appearance to cause it to be singled out from the myriads of objects about it. There are eitrht of these little in strument* on separate tables in a portion of the space of 9,000 square feet occupied by Mr. Edison s exhibits. And around these tables it has been found necessary to construct long winding guards, as at the elevator of the Eiffel tower, in order to regulate the access of the eager crowds. *ow th* People an* accommodated. To each of the instrument* is attached a hear ing tube divided into six branches, and an operator sits there ready to adjust them to the ears of the persons in the line as their turn comes. A^nd there from morning till 11 o'clock at night the line is kept up almost without a br?*k- ,11 u interesting to sit within the of .TP l ^ " U Pa*?ei- I* consists of all classes and all nations as chance has thrown them together. They wait patiently, gazing at the machine with varying expressions When * squad of six takes hold of the tubes?they may consist of a lady, a work man, a typical American, a Turk in a turban, a dark skinned Egyptian in his robe and sash and a little French girl?you can watch all these faces as they first catch the actual sounds ofbuman speech coming from the little in strument, and they form A CUBIOUS STUDY OF FACIAL EXPRESSION. You can see how similarly the smile of won der is formed upon all the countenances. Few of the crowds that hear it have any clear no tion of how the sounds are produced, but thev hear human speech from a little machine of iron aud wood and are lost in amazement. Many of them show signs of skepticism and Cer narrowly under the table for the man who playing the trick. Mr. Hammer, who has eharge of the whole that often from 15,000 to people have listened to it in one dav and that before the exhibition closes the numlier of th.?*? wbo have heard it will run up into millions. * V* VARIOUS LANO CAGES. This thing is going on all the time, not only in machinery hall but in a small room in Mr Edison's part of the United States exhibit, and d?*oted to the graphophone,which attracts the same interest In this part there u not the ame motley crowd, and theexhibi ?* ^Ten more deliberately and in sev eral different languages. The Hussiau. the Italian, the German, the Frenchman, and even the Arabian can hear his own language spoken by this marvelous instrument It is not to be V w,houW bold the unfailing attention of the changing crowds of viaitonf for to most of them it is a perfe^ ^ TALXIXO A LITTER. The traveler to whom letter-writing becomes such a bore will soon learn to prise this inven tion when he finds that at any hotel he can do as I did, through the kindness of Mr. P. L. of the g'aphophone in the exhibition. He gave me a cylinder, at a qamt moment *nd I talked a letter of abont 1,000 words to * friend at home, heard it all repeated accurately, wrapped it in a piece of thin paper, placed it inilitUe wooJeabox! ????' rubber banci sank in a little groove, pat a two-oent stamp 11 tbe P.O. box. Thus! wTthno labor s&atever I talked to my friend acroes the ooeajlai my leisure, and inVweek or so heneehe can simply take out the cylinder. ? graphophone, and hear what 1 hare had to say, which was about as much at i contained in this letter. A.Q.K. Another Scandal. mm the Tam Hast* Kxpieaa. ??? 2?!rr*-?bo*4 leaving town the other day with a nmii 7" _***? "No. Tell m about it Who wasabe?" ? *r. Jaopn?"Hfc wMa" "Areyonr children doing well at sehooIT ? read a word be orST I foteg to bo literarr"-^-i?.i DAN CUPID. Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shine*. Today prove* it. Terrible is the strength of the r*y* that Old Sol is flinging broadcast upon the ?immering earth. The tennis players hare given is to it, and confessing themselves van quished have flung their racquets to the winds and themselves into garden chairs, or else prone upon the shaven lawn under the acacias, according to their sex. Two of tbem, however, have wandered rather far from the acacias and the tea table* and the tent, where better things than tea can be had for the asking. They have wandered down to the house boat on the river, shut out from a noisy world by rows of beech trees. It is a lit tle dream of a plsce. entered by one opening only, and that through the beeches. "A sort of Arcadia, isn't it?" says Mr. Brooke, glancing up at him companion from his loung ing position upon the bench at her feet. "No." says she. with a little frown. She makes a charming picture standing here under the awning next the old sun dial, with her hat lying on the ground beside her and the glint ing ravs from the glowing heavens throwing golden lights into her hue brown h.iir. Her eyes are blue and just at this moment a little angry. The mouth, too, so prone to laughter, as a rule, has grown mutinous. Hall' child, half woman, she has not vet learned the moro delicate shades of society'; colors and lets her thoughts lie openly upon hir lovely face. '?You are hard to please." says he. his eyes on hers. As a rule his eyes aio seldom any where else. "Well, you are not." returns she. promptly. From sfar the thrum, thrum, thrum of a banjo comes to them, breaking u stillness that is almost oppressive. '"That's the unkindest cut of all!" save Mr. Brooke, placidly. "It's rather a cut at Miss Morlaud. too, isn't it? I presume you allude to my engagement to her.' '"You presume very wrongly then. I ?ai not thinking of Miss Morlaud. She on^ht to please. She is rich, young, handsome." "Rich; ye*." "Anil handsome," persistently. "Is she? Oh. yes; of course who is. A perfect Juno! Too perfect a Juno, perhaps!" "Yon shouldn't sneer at her." !?tvs the girl, gravely. "I know that, and that's why I do it." says he. "It is dilricnlt to resist temptation, and 10 do the wrong thing is alwiys so pleasant." He is talking idly, scarcely knowing what he say*, his mind full of her; lull u[ the knowledge that he loves her?her only, and with all the passion of his nature, and that he is engaged to be mar ried to another women! A handsome woman, tiiednughterond heiress ol a cottou merchant--what her own class would call a "fine girl;" tali with light eyes nnd lighter hair, and distinctly under bred. She hart met George Brooke some months ago at the house of a mutual friend, and, being filled with n strong desire to rise out of her cotton surround ing*. had given him very clearly to understand that she was willing to accept him should he choose to accept her fortune, which wits enor mous, in exchange for the old title that must come to him on the death of his uncle. Lord Farnham. A beggarly title?no penny of money coming with it. as the uncle let the nephew know as often as opportunity occurred. There had been bad blood between Lord Farnham and bis second brother, George Brooke's father, and Farnham was not a man to forget. He swore he would visit the sin of the father upou the son. and sooner than let his money go to the young George ho would leave it to a hospital. As for the old name and the keeping Up of it, let it go to the devil. Young George would in herit that in spite of him, but it should prove a barren honor to him. George took no steps to assuage his uncle's wrath, but he thought a good deal of the time when he should be Lord Farnham. with only ?i'500 a year to back his title. He had shirked the idea of niarryiug for money, but when Miss Morlaud. with her undeniable golden charms, flung herself at his head he permitted himself to argue the question with himself. Muuy a fellow, he told himself, had doue it before. It was a fair exchange. His title for her money! He was heartwhole. He would not do her or any other woman any wrong in marrying her. He would think about it?he hesitated?and finally was lost. Miss Morlaud accepted him calmly. Was a little vulgar over her money?let it'bo known that she thought it a pity that the present Lord Farnham was in such remarkably robust health for so old a man and said she would not like to be married until the coming autumn. It was then November. George, glad of a respite, did not press for an earlier day. a circumstance the heiress remembered. He bore up under his new chains with a marvelous courage. He was not in love with any one. so they did not gall him. Then came a day when both he and Miss Morland were asked down to stay for a month at the Shirleys, and there he met Dorothy Dene. A little slender maiden, with big gray eyes and hair that rippled all over her white fore head. A rather out-at-elbows little maiden, whose best frock was a muslin and whose only ornaments were roses. The Shirley*?a young couple?adored her and would have her stay with them as often as ever the old squire, her father, would let her come to them. She had been taken forcible possession of by them for the month that saw George Brooke and his fiancee there?with the most disastrous results. George Brooke fell madly in love with her and she loved him. It has gone so far with them, indeed, that though no word has yet been spoken each knows the other's heart, and sitting here today in this little dangerously lonely retreat a sense of passionate protest against the fate that is dividing them is thrilling through every tone. "We ought to go back," says Miss Dene presently, in a rather changed tone. She had been a little offended, perhaps, by the frivolity of his answer. "Oh! not yet,surely. We have been here so short a time; and to get away from Shirley's banjo, if only for a minute or two, is so intense a relief." "It is more than a minute or two," rising. "We have been here an immense time. Agnes 8lrs. Shirley) will be wondering what *??? he me of us?so," regarding him steadily, "will Miss Morland." "Let her wonder! Besides, she has forgotten us by this time in the delight of Lord Totten ham's society. I wonder what she sees in that old fossil! For my part I'm always thinking when with him of what I don't see?hair, teeth, etc." "She is very kind to him?poor old man." "And amiability is her strong point. How many charms hav* you discovered in her of late?" "I don't think you ought to speak of her like that," says the girl, turning upon him with a lit tle flash in her lovely eyes. "You shouldn't crit icise her." "Why not? I certainly shan't be able to criticise her next month, so I may as well make the most of my time now. Next month"? slowly and almost defiantly?"I shall be the blost proprietor of Mrs. Brooke, and it is not permissible to criticise one's own wife, what ever you may do with regard to your friend's." He has spoken deliberately and with seeming unconcern, though in truth his heart is torn in two by a very passion of despair and regret. They are both standing, but she has turned sharply aside and ha* so placed herself that he cannot see her face. He had meant to provoke some word from her and her silence maddens him. "What are you thinking of?" aaks he,angrily, going up to her and compelling her to return is gaze. She has grown very pale, but she meet* his eyes without flinching. "Nothing,".says *he, in a ton* oat of which all her courage cannot keep the sound of deso lation. "A woman's answer; I know what yon ware thinking of for all that. That there is no more despicable thing on earth than a man who marries a woman for her money. Yet what was I to do? Was the old name to be forever lowered? A title?and ?500 a year?how do they f o together? Money I felt that I must have and when it came my way I took it. Do you think I don't care?now? But the thing is done! And my uncle?that old man?he Is a perfect devil, he will do nothing for me, I am tied?am bound." "Ye*," say* she, simply. She ha* taught her self, indeed, to regard it in this light Of very old family herself, the demands of raee seem natural to her. To give up all for the sake of the old name?that has reaeon in it?hot that it should be they two who must give op, that menu hard! "Why don't you speak?" says he, harshly. "Yon despise me; you think?" "I think nothing but what to kind of you," says she, her voioe trembling, bnt her face tell of a gentle dignity. "I do not despise you. Why should I? I think yon are doinx right when an old title comes to on* it shooid be re garded a* a sacred charge, and yon?you meant to do the beet you oould for it Yon will be able, in spite of your nnele, to keep np old name?" "Oh, d?n the old name!" interrupt* he, paasiranetsly?with a deep groan. He hae spoken very low, certainly?and certainly it seems a* though the word had been forced from him anainst his will, bat Dorothy, hearing thi* terrible speeoh, grows dumb. To so de noonee the **old name!" She pa?as, gazing at him ae if thunderstruck. "I beg yow pardon." says he moodily. Why, hae she taken ft all so much for granted? la there no loophole of eeoape? If she had eared ae mneh m he doe*, would ah* have been eo ready to acknowledge the claim* at the "old ?anteI" "Do y*u sever think, Dorothy," says afewly, '*< how it might hav* being U~" 0 , With ft little *wift imperative fwtnw she rate op her hand and check* him. Her Terr Tip* are white; her large evee grow tnddenlr larger at cruel, emarting tear* fill them. Even a* Brooke gasea at her two bright drope over flow her lid* and run quickly down her pate cheek*. "Dorothy!" *ay* be, making a movement to ward her. "No. no. Don't mind me!" *ay* *be. brarely, repuking him with eager hand*. ' You are do ing what m best for yon, indeed; and?and after ward you will bo" glad that? Ye*?," nerv ously. "and beside*?" "Oh. that will do," gay* he. bitterly. "Why should you trouble yourself to try and reconcile me to my fate? I dare *ay there are worne things that might befall a ' man than having to accept a fortune." "I wi*h," say* ?he, in a heart-broken voice, "that yon would try to be a little happy about it" "I* there anything else you wi*li?" *av* he, pushing off hi* arm the little friendly hand she has placed upon it. "Happy, after all." throw ing up his bend with a short laugh; "whynot?" "Why not. indeed?" sadly. "This is only a moment's folly on your part; every other day you are as merry aH the best of us; tomorrow you will be yourself again." "How well you have studied me ! You are right; I am the most frivolous, the most light hearted of my sex. Sometimes," says he, laughing again', "I'm so happy that I wish? He pauses. "Yes?" "That I was dead!" says he?with such a sudden vehement change from affected care le:;saess to honest misery that her heart dies within her. Fenr takes possession of her. "Oh. no! Oh, no!" cries she. her voice dying away in a sob. Instinctively she moves toward him?bis arms open?in a moment she is lying on his breast. "Oh ! don't wish yourself dead," sob* she, crying bitterly. "I don't now," whispers he, tightening hi* arms round the slender, beloved little form. "1 ought not to be Here. I oughtn't indeed." says she. making, however, no effort to redeem her position. "There is Miss Morland to think of." "There is indeed!" says he. ruefully. It is a cheerful ruefulness, however. With his world in hi* arms he can afford to -figh? with out sider.'. And he was not wrong after all. She does love him." . "Couldn't you?" begins Mis* Dene and then breaks off. ??Couldn't I what, darling?" "Conidn't vou break it off with her?" whisper* she in'.') the right side of hi* coat. Hah! This is what he wanted! "I could." f v* he. luughiiig softly, and press ing the pretty head against his heart with hi* hand, "and I will!" ??I wouldn't say a word?not a syllable," say* Dorothy, with awful determination, "if she loved you?but she doesn't?" This decidedly, with all the impenetrable perspicacity of youth, that never reasons, yet alway* knows. "No?" meekly. "I coyfess that idea has occurred to myself, but if my personal charms are a matter of indifference io her, why, then, has she done me the honor to accept me?" "They say." say* Miss Dorothy, lifting her limpid eyes to his with all the importance this time-honored authority ought to produce, "that you want to marry her for her money, and that she wants to marry you for your title." "Do they," say* Mr. Brooke. "As a rule they might, they are always right, but for once thoy are at fault. If she wants to marry me for my title I'm sorry for her; firstly, because I'm going to marry some one else, and secondly, because if I did marry her the coveted title would not be hers until her hair was gray, the old boy being about as strong at present as my annuitant. And. as for me. I most solemnly swear I don't want to marry her either for her mouoy or anything else." "Ah! but you did," gays *he. "Even if so. you should not be the one to re proach me," aays he. "Yes, that'* true. I'm bonnd to you," say* *he. nestling closer to him. "And," in an awed tone, "when will you tell her about it, George?" She hesitates so admirably over the pro nouncing of his name that (ieorge laugh* and catching up her pretty hand kisses the pink palm of it with rapture. "First thing tomorrow," gay* he. "To tell you the truth. I think she has an inkling of it She said something about you the other day that looked as if she was jealous." "She couldn't be jealous?she doesn't love." says Dorothy, with conviction. "Oh!" with a little long-drawn sigh, "it is dreadful to feel jealous." "You needn't have felt it," *ay* he, tenderly. "But I did. I couldn't bear to think she was to belong to jrou, while I?Well," with a happy little sigh this time that bring* tear* into ne'r eyes. "I am not jealous now. I wonder what ?he'll say to you?" "Oive me good day, no doubt and rejoice over a riddance of bad rnbbish. After all, she was throwing herself awav. A girl with a couple of million* might easily have made her own choice of a better match than I am likely to prove." "She could have made no better match," in dignantly. "Oh 1" starting, "i* that Agne* calling ? Oh! come, let u* run 1 We have been here a dreadfully long time." "Till tomorrow, then," gay* he, catching her in hi* arms and kiasing her. "Tomorrow. I pray heaven, will leave me free to tell all the world that I love you." Tomorrow, however, bring* ita own plana. With the hot water at 8, which a man bring* him, a veritable bombshell, in the shape of a letter, that blow* all his intentions to piece*. His uncle, Lord Farnham, i* dead. So write* LordFarnham's lawyer, and ha* left hi* nephew not only the title, which he couldn't keep from him, but hi* entire fortune, ?11,000 a year. At the last the name haij been too much for the old man. He had given his all for the keeping up of it He had even given np hi* revenge, though, if he had known it he could hardly have made hi* nephew more nnhappy than by the bestowal of this most-unlooked-for gift How i* he to go to Mis* Morland now and demand hi* liberty? With the title and the fortune both in his hands, bow is he to ask her to break off his engagement? Hi* soul sinks like lead within him. It was such an open arrangement between them?she to give money, be the title?that now when he finds himself independent of her money it seem* impossible to ask her to let him go free from the detested bond. A last fight for life animate* him. He will seek an interview with Mia* Morland after breakfast and put the case fairly before her. If *he still elected to adhere to their original contract, so be it Oood-bye then to life and joy and happiness. The honor that alone remains will be but a poor comforter. Knowl edge of Miss Morland tells him that she will be very likelv to assert her righta and decide on keeping her hold of title and eatate. He manages to ask her for a few minutea alone with him before leaving the breakfast room. Some thing new in her face as she answers him granting the required interview atrikea him at the moment, but not forcibly. Of, late her moods have been very variable. "Now?" asks he. "The sooner the better," returns she shortly. "The library i* alway* vacant at this hour. Shall we go there?" * "A good place," say* he, trying to look calm, while nis heart i* thumping violently against hi* tide, a* though it wonld burst ita bonds. "Look here," aays Mia* Morland, as he close* the library door behind him. "One word is as good as ten"?this ia the usual graceful style in which she carries on her conversation?"I know qnite well why you are here, and I may as well have the first word. Yon are sick of me and I'm siok of yon. That's it?ian't it?" "Beally?I" begins Brooke feebly. He ia indeed so overpowered by the brilliancy of this attack that he finds words difficult to suit him. "The fact is," goes on Miss Morland, waving bis attempt at a reply aaide with a gesture of her large, firm hand, "I don't think there ia the remotest chance of the old gentleman dying? Farnham, von know?and you without the title aren't gooa enough." "I can quite understand that," aays ha, gravely, shocked at her coarseneea. "It is, however, a pity you didn't think of that sooner, presume it waa never me, then, it wm only the "Well, as far aa that goes,*! says she, "I pre sume it was never me either. It was only the money." At this he ooiors hotly. She laughs. "Doee that trouble you?" says she. "Well, money clings to money, yon know, and I have decided that one in the hand is worth two in the bush." This is a dark saying to him, bat time explains it "The truth is, I saw Lord Farnham in town just before I eaaae down hare: and he looks as if he wonld last forever; as if he would never get older." "No, he will neverjfet older." repeats Brooke, in a curious tone. With the old man lying dead, this hearttese speech of here?this cruel longing for his deatH?eounds area mora detestable than it would have wert he living. He himself had not loved the old lord, troth* had never wiahed him dead. "As to that I suppose he will have to, whether he likes it or not savs she, vindictively. "Bat I don't {eel inolinedto wait for him. And?er ?as Lord Tottenham?" "Yes," says he, his heart giving a* great "As Lord Tottenham aaked me last night to marry him, I doeidod^thnt it wonld be better to ^?aa to^udentaad, than, that yon are aboat te marry Lord Tottenham}" asks he formally, snbdaing all evpreeslmi of his ?assioa ate relief by a saprone effort So Tottenham was "the bird in the hand!" A tough one, V "T??*re wU* in y?w ??? NTI he. with ft putting amUe, -and sound in your proverb*." "Ton dant express much regret, it all events.' uti the, with ft thrill laugh. "I am Tjf this, ftt least, that I don't care abont dividing my husband's affection* with another. That little girl to whom you give jronr whole ume will, no doubt, l>? glad to share with yon ?our ?500 a rear." Thie ia unbearable. .. rou allnde to Miaa Dene," aay- he qnietly, 'll* face ia pale and hi* eyea flushing, 'I do not think ahe girea her entire thoughts to money. ?500 a year, however, would. I acknowledge, be but a poor thing to lav at her feet I am glad, therefore, that it ia now in my power to offer her ?14.000." "What?" aaya Miaa Moreland. She Ukea ? step forward. Dismny, consternation, diacom ncture are all largely knit on her aatouiahed face. "Lord Farnham died at 10 o'clock Inst night. Contrary to my expectations he haa left me every penny he poeseaaed." Hebowsand mores I toward the door. "Stay one moment." gasps Miaa Morland. If sne haa even one etnall gr?iu of hope left that she may still be Lady Faruham his nest words ( destroy it. j "You must pardon me," sayg he; "I bare an appointment with Miss Dene. She has not vet heard my news. Ah! I.ord Tottenham." to that carefully-preserved old beau as he moat oppor timely enters tfee room, "permit me to rou gratulate you. M:ss Morland haa just inlormc J me of your engagement to her. I feel she has done wisely indeed. With much humility I confess myself very much the worat man of the two!" He laughs and hurries awav to And Doro'hv wniting for him in that little sacred i>T>ot he had named Arcadia yesterday. Sho rises as he comes toward her and turns so deadly white that he is afraid she is going to faint. "It is all right!" cries ho, joyously, to re a*?nro her. A little cry escapes her. She would have gone to him. but her limbs refuse to obey her and if he had not caught her in liis arms she would have fallen, l.iere is no re storative power so effectual as a lover's kiss. Dorothy is presently her chnrmin; self ug.iin. "Oh. how did it happen?" cries she, rap turously. "I prayed for it all last night, but somehow I never had much hope. She has given you up. then? Really?" '?Really and truly." "Oh! how could she!" leaning back from him to gaze into his dear face, tii? handsomest in the world to her. "Well, it appears she could quite easily," says he, with a happy laugh. "You may think me good to look at, but when compared with such a youthful Adonis aa my Lord Tottenham even you must allow that I ought to take ft back seat." '?Do you mean to tell me," with growing in dignation. "that she has given you ui> for Lord Tottenham?" "Even so, my good child." "Pouf! She's a fool. She's not worth wast ing words upon," nays Miss Dene. w:th scornful conviction. "That s what I think. Let's talk of our selves," says he. "Oh. an for that," sava she, turning snddenly very dismal and trying to give her head the properly dejected droop. "I dare say yon will be sorry about all this later on. 1 have not been a good friend to you," with a heavy aigh. "and that's the truth." "What am I going to be sorry about?" "You know! You said yeaterdftv that it would be dreadful to live on ?j00 a year." "So it would with Miss Morland?not with yon." "Ah! That is all very well now. But I Mid something about it to father laat week?not about you and me, you know, but about things generally?and he said that when people with out money married other people without money it was madness!" This rather involved sen tence she givea forth with groat solemnitv. "What a lot he said." exclaims Lord Farn ham with affected admiration. "But. after all. it seems to me he didn't know what he was talking about. The real question is, Dorothy, whether you could be happy with me, even though we both were poor? "Oh. darling! what a horrid question! Don't you know that if I had ten thousand a rear" this seems to be the utmost hoightof her ambition?"and not you, I should be the most wretched girl alive." "Well, you shall have more than that with me-' criea he, folding bis arms around her with a tender excess of passion, and with his soul full of unspoken gratitude for this loving heart that has been given him to perfect his life. Then he tells her all.?By the Duchett. Written for The Eveniko Star. Sunrise on the Spanish Peaks. Kadiant are the Spanish peaks. With the rainbow-beam that speaks; Shimmerings of burnished gold To the rising sun unfold; Sparkling fountains on the sight Break In rills of liquid light. Foam In streams of aerial white. Draperies of mountain mist. Snow-lipped summits zenith-kissed, Crests of mellow light and shade 'Qainst the clouds are lightly laid; Dancing gleams that wildly reel. Blithesome on the senses steal With a fervor all must feel. Rosy nests on rocky heights, Whence the songbird wings Its flights. Where the zephyrs softly sigh When the bllaeful morn is nigh; Where the earth Its blossoms wreaths. And the sky in beauty breathes, There the spirit soars and seethes. David Okahah Ann. AMERICANS IN PARIS. Some of Them Appear to Know Very Little of Their Own Country. From the China Decorator. "Well, it does do one good to hear people speak our own language," said ft stout, middle ftged woman of the party, addressing in very loud tones everybody in the vicinity. "Yes, it does," followed the daughter in the most gush ing tone of voice, which was echoed by all the members of the party with enthusiastic repeti tions of a similar character. Then all began talking at once in a pitch that may have been acquired in Paris, where the constsnt noise and confusion necessitates a most unladylike delivery of speech, but which conld not but seem uncouth in this place. After expressing their feelings individually and collectively they pounced upon the exhibit, each selecting the object nearest at hand, admiring its merits, courting its possession, asking where it came from, what tne price would be, Ac. They were quietly told by tne manager at the first oppor tunity offered to make himself heard by all: "This exhibit, ladies, is of American pottery and cut glass, sent by Messrs. Blank & Co. of New York city." Great surprise was expressed by such exclamations as "You don't say sol" "Is it possible!" "Wtll. did you ever!" and so on, but the voice of the evident leader of the party, who was thirsty for further information or more attention (it is hard to know which), was to be heard above all, and addressing the manager, she said: "You don't mean to say these be-you-tiful vases were made in America?" "Yes. madam, they were made in Cincinnati, Ohio." "In Cincinnati! Why, I live in Dayton,Ohio, and I never heard of any such things being made in America, anywhere?and in Cincin nati, yon say? Well, did you ever!" The last words were addressed to the party as well as to the manager, his clerks ana visi tors in general. Not one of the party had ever heard that vases were made in America, and exchanged expressions of astonishment and evident pleasure and pride to find their coun trymen had made such progress in this art Germany's Royal Admiral. From the London Standard. Prinoe Henry of Prussia, the kaiser's brother, ia the idol of the German naval servioe, and oountless stories are told to illustrate his good nature, his devotion to his profession sad his physical prowess. Once whan the Olga, of whieh he was then ft watehkseping lieutenant, was lying in the Gulf of Kiel the order was given through him for all hands to hatha. The weather was chilly and an oAcer remarked to the prinoe that the water most be far too oold to be pleasant. He aaggaeted, therefore, that the order should be annulled. Without a word Prinoe Henry, who was on the bridge, sprang thence into the sea,swam to the Jacob's ladder astern, climbed ? board again, and, mounting dripping to the bridge, said to the offioer: "Do you say so now?" There was no reply, and the prinoe, instsad of going below te change, re mained on the bridge in his wet elothee until his watch was relieved. Another story illus trates the prince's activity. One day at W0 helmshaven he put a thaler between his teeth satfitar irWiJSsresE Although ha was par sued by the whole of tba 2KS2SSTShnSTMS deck, he turned to the Merest of his pursuers end said, laughingly: "If yea are as thirsty as I ?you mu* want it, so nere's your money." tailing remedy. HOME MATTERS. SBABOXABLB STXMESTIOKB TO rftACTtCAl. MOOTS xxepebs?ltorn *?m tmnanu? row rom thx duixo book, rum* a*d uruui. W*mn, Dbt ob Wrr, vill give to gUas b fine polish. To iann Hiccocni dose both Mrt with the finger* with pressors while b few swallow* of liquid are taken. Ooroas Mat u Mr cm Alleviated and dry throata cored br glvcerine and lemon jnice taken at night The glfceriue should be diluted. A Lirru: Bobax Put ik ni Vii*? tn which scarlet napkin* and red-bordered towel* are to be washed. will prevent them from fading. Paint ok Wikdows can. it is said, be removed br melting some *o<^ in Terr hot water and washing them with it, using a soft flannel. A Small Box Filled with Live and placed on a shelf in the pantry or cloaet will absorb dampness and keep the air in the cloaet dry and sweet. Peaches to be Kept Axt Time should be spread out on shelves in a cool dry cellar, looked over carefullv every day and all the speckled ones used first. TnE Kei* Mat be Removed from peaches quickly and without any wa?te by putting a few at a time in a wire basket and dipping them in boning water for a couple of minutes. Nrveu Put Awat Food ok Tik Plates. Fully one-hall the esse* of poison from the n*e of canned goods is because the article waa left or put back into the can after using. China, earthenware or glass are the onlv safe recep tacles for ??left-overs." Ir Yoti Have Tbocbi.e to get your last year's catsup nottles perfectly clean, after washing them thoroughly in suds and riming in clean water, chop a potato qu;te fine, mix it with u little warm water, put ibis in the bottle and shake it well; it will surely remove aav loreigu substance. W uisKT will Take Oct Evebt Kind or Fbuit Stain for which I have ever seen it used. A child's dress will look entirely mined by the C. irk berry stains on it. but if whisky is poured on the discolored places before sending it into the wash it will come out a* good as new. Is Cases or Sickness sand bags are preferred to hot water rubber bags, as they can be more easily adjusted to different parts of the body. These granular heaters are also to be chosen rather than goapstone or bottle* for keeping the feet at nortuai tempernture in xero weather. Toco a Meat Cak be Made WoSDXmrcLLT Tender when put to boil by adding a table spoonful of good vinegar. This i* al*o good for a tough fowl of any kind, and tough steak can be very much improved, after pounding, to salt and roll m flour and fry in very hot but ter or lar?L St bung Salt akd Water and diluted cam phorated alcohol given alternately and in quantities to merely keep the mouth and throat wet, are recommended lor diphtheria patients. A gargle of sulphur and water has also proved of value in the treatment of diph theria. Flocb is Excellent roB Stopping the Ibbi tatiok caused by the sting* of insect*. Dry blueing also will allay the pain from the sharp sting of wasps and hornets. A very homely remedy and a very efficacious one for the swell ing and inflammation of a sting is to apply a plantain leaf that ha* been bruised and mois tened so as to extract its juice. A Nice Pickle.?Peel nice ripe peaches (cling(tone), drop in glass or stone jars, to one quart jar add one teacup sugar, a small quan tity of mustard seed, cloves, allspice and pep per. Boil enough strong vinegar to cover them, pour over them while hot. Fold a thick paper, tie over them and set in a dry place. They will keep all winter. Nothiko is Much Better thak a Piece or Chamois Skik for cleaning the tips and sides of patent leather on shoes, and it can be done in a few minute*. By the way, a banana akin will clean a shoe or boot very nicely in the absence of blscking and shoe polish. It was tried with great success by a traveler who happened to lose his satchel and find himself where he could not replace any of his conveniences for the toilet. A Disinfectant Which Has Overcome even the offensive odor* of cancer* is made by dis solving three drachms of potassium nitrate in eight ounce* of Piatt'* chloride*. In this saturate thin muslin and dry it thoroughly. Small strips of the cloth buriied on a shovel, where most needed, will almost instantly re move the trying odor. It is said to be equally efficient in all contagious, pestilential or in fectious diseases. How to Make Toast.?The object in making toast is to evaporate all moisture from the bread, and holding a slice over the fire to singe doe* not accomplish thi*; it only wnrm? the moisture, making the inside of the bread doughy and decidedly indigestible. The true way of preparing it is to cut the bread into slice* a quarter of an inch thick, trim off all crust, put the *lice* into a pan or plate, place them into an oven, which must not be too hot; take them out when a delicate brown and but ter at once. Oilcloth Ocoht Never to be Scrubbed with a brush, but after being swept may be cleaned by washing with a soft flannel and lukewarm water or cold tea. On no account use soap, or water that is hot, as either would have a bad effect on the paint. When the oilcloth is dry, rub it with a small portion of a mixture of beeswax, softened with a minute quantity of turpen tine. using for thi* purpose a soft furniture polishing brush. The following is also used to make oil cloth* look well: Wash them once a month with skim milk and water, equal quan tities of each; rub them once in three month* with boiled linseed oil; put on a very little and rub it well in with a rag, and polish with a piece of old silk. Beed Birds ok Toast.?Allow two birds for each person. Draw the birds and then draw the skin from the bead and neck. Cat off the feet and wipe the birds. Press the legs into the bodies and fasten the head^ under the wings by pressing the bills into the bodies. When all the birds have been trussed, season them with salt and rub melted butter over them. As each one is buttered roll it in fine, drv bread crumbs and lay it on its back in a shallow pan. When all are done, set the pan in a cola place until it is time to cook them. Ten minutes before serving time see that the oven is verv hot. Toast six large slices of bread, and butter them. Cut each slice into four piece* and place in a pan. Cook the birds in the oven for seven minutes. Put the toast in with them, and when it has been in for three minutes, take it out and dip each piece in a little hot stock, and then arrango all on a hot dish. Lay a bird on each piece of toast. Gar nish the dish with water cresses, and serve at once. Taken for > Clergyman. Black Hill* Correspondence Chicago Inter-Ocean J They tell a good story in this connection re garding Mr. Leiter of Chicago. He was oat through these hills prospecting, dressed in gentlemanly garb, and with the dignified yet gentle bearing that is his. At a certain point the stage upset, not an uncommon occurrence, bat quite a startling one. Mr. Leiter distin uished himself by hi* otter silence under the trying circumstanoee and by the gallantry with which he assisted the ladies of the party. After all bad been straightened np again a red-shirted miner who had beea watching the Chicago capitalist said to him: ''Stranger, will yoo take a drink?" at the same time producing an old flask. 'Thank yoo," waa the courteous reply, "I don't drink." The miner subsided for a moment, and then t-vj-g oat * villainous looking cigar, said, "Well pard, will yoa hare a smoke?" "I appreciate your kindness, air," said Mr. Letter, "bat I rarely nee tobaoco and do not care to smoke at preeenf The miner looked *or prised.. Preeently they all alighted and partook of dinner in a rode frostier eating house at *1 a meed. When Mr. Leiter oame to settle the clerk astonished him by saying, "The bill ie paid; that party evsr yonder fixed it" Oar townsman looked acroes at the covered porch, and there eat his Mead r, tilted back in hie chair, complacently his big cigar. He etepped np to him wtth the word: "Mv friend, I onderstand that you have paid my bUL Now, I am very orach obliged to yoo, bat I have a little money of aay own, and am perhape mach better able te settle the bill than yon are yoorself, and I insist open paying it" "He yon don't, pardnar," broke eat he of the red ahirt, "we don't hare much rehxioa oat thie way, bat I want yoa to when a | t?j tel RAILROADS Baltimc tuxofiro md Local Q*r' 'ir" t lAtMa _ ?S SSrT^k ?K*ai ??' ??& .^e^TvrV"^ ilTST^'^rS Wlf MSiiOTi??S& Irwinslrave Baltimore for WMhuiatou. ?<?i my* ft 111 <1 .U. t>3ani.: % KMUliUMU^ h Hi. V.15, 10:20 (46 auaiMeeiB.au, li.l.K 1 ? i4.r'UIUUM),'.'W. .1 OO. 4 lift <45 nlrslML 4 I-V , 00. t> ij^Aj^OT *0.7 46, 8 OO, 10 0&. 10 10 sal 11 oOp.m. Sundays ti 311,7 15. B.30, 8 1 ft. lu*0 145 uiiautas) IV '*?, 1 45 .45 ?lawSisLiMk 4 15. a 00.6:301, 7:40.77*5. 8.OO. 1V U&. lOlOeal 1 V?rfik*Kldr?. tmu Urn** B aad O depot, Wssa. in* urn, K Oo a m. 1 .V and 4 -to |> m. buudtjif jut 4i??aJ lit. ?. Inn Bey Ridife week dais ti 30 a? ? 610 aa6 8:30p.m. Sunday a 3 -U. 8 CO?ml?.<Ki P m Fuf AhBe|>o.ia. o 4ii and 8.30 e.m.. 18 IU._4:S\ and e..4> p.m. On Monday a. 8 3o a.n... 4 ;W p.m. Leave Anna, olie, II :40. bUt e.m. I - o5, 3 jU, end t> i ?? y.m. fcaaiaye, b 37 ? ni ? 4 impjn . . . lor station. on On MelrufwlilaB .Branch. ?? ?* 110 *la.m,Sl :15 I'm. lor unnclpal etaUoas valri ? Id 10a in ?? 30 and t.% let i n. 1<?[ i>o.k\i.ie aud war ?taUOL* t4:3b p.m. __ Tor Miibn>t>urr arid intermediate poiula. *? 00a. m.tl2 30,*.. ..5. til vu p.m. ? ? lor Boyds alia intermediate ??tW* " 00 pm. ilOrVO p.m. ____ , * a Church inuti Mna ^aabtns-toi' mi Knrxlaj at 1 II p n . ?!<.>| pin* *i an siauon* i>D Metro|? .itan brant la 1.1 i-ln i. k. -l 4.?, ? . 0 30 all.. ?.. OO. "4 ? jSnndaya. 1 -.15 and 13 MipJL | For Us^reratowu. 110:30a.m. aad t& .IOp.ia. I rains aim* from chiuaao daily 11 45 a.m. aud 4:OG p.m. ; from Ciacinaau and Kt Loui. daily 3 50 *?"* pJn. .Iruiu htutatt Tin a Ui. aud 6:50 P.m. dam **?* *OhK AND PHILADELPHIA DIVI810K. j *yf *V'.wti"ri?r ,4.r*liu'.uj Newark aud l.liaaUrUu M. S' BuBet Parlor Cat* on all ua) irai.ia lo.rto p.m. 1 .? J??i pclnta brtaara Main mora and rbltadelplua. t5 o ?au.. ;3o aud t?:?o p.m ? H^wJ".t**'"1.??rk tor waauiuartuti, ?K ML ?V-\UU nuiht. ^ *J l&> *4 WW * m .S^u: T^Tf 1-Liladal|4.1a for WaaUi.rtoi.. *4 1UL ?- ?in ? . *'U1- tl 5Sr*4:ia? *5 Oi. aui ? P Ui. >ur AtUiiUc City 4 00 and 0 30 ib., IStOO tiiL1'' ?4 ?0?.iu.,mhI1*\k?i ?itS l4*AUch Givtt 14 OU. til A m.. tl. OO u.Kill. tv ..HI a. lu. tEaoept huuda) 'XMilj. itiundar oUf. :Ei 8uuda> aud Moih1a>. ^ i n*|-i M t ua> "?(W called lur and ctwrim Irum botela reai<i?i.*? by I uiuU 1 ramt. r C< . uo . .rU< ra la.. _ tktet oftoet, 61V mi4 likil IViiiii)ivauita?fiiiir *<k ?t Uewa V'MAS U KOU. U?i. 1-aaa AjrV *? '? U11ELL. Oroeral llauwn PlUlMUM AIM U.NL bitiadulr In effect Julie 30. lfWn. K:30Lti.-iut Iraii'im Mail, daily for WarrM U'U, Uvrduuanlle, CuarlotlaaviUe, l.vu. i.t'urw, and atatioua bvtat-^u Aleuiuliia auu Li ucbiurv.Kaaaok% l^rutvU kuuivillr, Cliattauooxa and Maiupliia FuU Biall Bleeiwr Waaliiuytou U .drwpliia. 11:1'4 a. m.?faat luall daily fur Marrentob. Char lottr?Tille, btatnua I'lieaafnnkt aud <Huo K.uia. Lyiicbbunc, Kucky Mouut. UaiiTille aud hteuuua between 1.} i.ouliui* aud bauvilie, uraeuaboro . l.al eirti. Aabeville. (Uarlotu. Columbia. AiikiuU. Atlanta, Biruilurliaiu. Muutawniery, New Oriraua, Triaa aud ( allfornia. Pullman M?f|*r New 1 >i a u? Atlaula. ivlor r*r? Atlanta to Muliivuui. ry, 1'uiiiuaa N?|?n MouWuiuery to Saw Urieaiia. Hullmai M" l? Uiveuaborv to Columbia aud A iiiruata full nian Meepera Waaliinirton W Ciucuiuati via C. aud UL lUiute 4: i.'? p. m ?Daily, except Sunday, for Mauaaaa* btraaborr aud ictanuedlate atationa. 7:2S p. m ? iMuly via cjncliburc. Bristol and Chak tamMT* lulluian Veatlliul* blee|*ra Maaliunrtoti M Mi n.i in*, cotiuw-tiuir tutm-a for all Arkauaaa i>uiutai alau toaatilUtftun to Now tirleaita. V:40 p. m?Western ExiTeaa, daily for Manaaaaa, Cui|?ier. oraiure, CUari tteaville, ntauutuu, Imuir Tille.CluciuiiaU. 1'ul.u.au \ tvaubule train * aabiiartua to cinciuuati witb a Itilliuaii ikrl*-r for l>>miaTUte 11:0ll p. m ? SouUiem l.i|n?Mll) lor L) ui bnunt, Dannlle. Kaltiarli. Aahetlllc, Cbarloita. Columbia. Aujruata, Atlanta, Mouttfouiery. fcew Orleana, Irm and California. Itillaiiui V<?ubale (V tkaabiurton u New urleatia. via Atlanta aud MonUvnier} iMliiaaa Hireper Ma*biu?riou to llinuinrbaiu. Aia.. via Atlaula and Cr nnm I'aoinc Railway Induaou >?aatunirton and Ohio division leave Waaa lnirton U :00 a.ni. dai ty exce|>t Monday. aud 4 45 p ra. daily . amw Bound Hill 11 ?.'?Mf a.Ui. aud 7 :t0 p m : retunuiif leave l.ound Hill tl U5 am. dally and 1J *J0 p.m. daily em-pt holiday, arnvtua w a?uiiurton s 30 am. and ? ..Vi p.m. Tbrunrh train? from tbs SouUi TlaCliarlotta, Da? ville and Lyurtiburv arrive in tkaaliiuriou d .53 a iu. and 7:13 pm.; via Lavl Teniu asi i. Bnatol aud M'm li bur* at bK>S a.m. and lu .40 p m . via Cheaapeak* aud Olito routs and Charlottesville at ~ M p.m aud 7.13 p.m aad 0 S3 a m btrasburv local at w 1H a. in. '1 loketa, pieeplnir-t'ar reserratloo aud Informatioa furniaiird, and launn^r* rliecksd at ofbcw, 13U0 Ivuu sy lvania aventts, and at lnw njrer btauon. l%uua> ivar ma 1 railroad, titli aud B strveta. y -JU J AH. L. 1A V LOR. Osu. Paaa. A*sut. _ 1VHE OREA1 " ITNNHYLVANIA BOtTT, TO THE Null 1 U, ?U1 AND MUITHWE8T. DoL'BLk. TRACK. bPLkNUIi) ?? tN?.KT HTR1X RAlLb. MAGN1HCEN1 l.?Jl ll'Wl.ST. IK KFFLC1 JIM. LUl H, 1MW. TRAIN'S LEAVE ? AbUl.NUTON, FROM 1ST ATI UK, CUUNKK OF hlXl B AKb B STRtt I K All FOL LOWS: For lnutiur* aud tbs Wast. OhkMv Limited Eaprsaa ot lullmau Vesubulnl Can at l<'50 a.m. dally .Fast l-in?-, H..VI am daily w cinciuuati aud ?L Inula, aitli M< . piUK ? ara lrom littsbury to '1 anail ana Uanialmnr to 8t.Loiua.daUi.eicentnatural U.t tm a*o, with Slesp?wr Ow Alilna Wsateni l.xprraa. at 7:40 p.m. 4aUy, wltli sUepm? Oirs Waaniuirton to Cbtoa?v aud Mt. Uiuia. ooa Sa?MK3B. KW??3ttKnj (.'hirirfr BALTIMORE AND POTOMAC RAILROAD For Kane, Canandaiarua, Rocbestar aad Niacars Fall* daily, except sunuaj. b:10a.m. For trie, C?naudai|rua aud Rochester dally; for buf falo an.l Niaraia dally. eiceiH Haturday, 10 00 p. m, with Hlet-uuia Car Waahiiurloi. to BooMakW. For Wllliamaport, Luck Haven and Elmlzm at W 50a. m. daily, except suiwiay. _ FOB PHILADt-LfHlXNtW YORE AKD THE EABti 7 :i!Q, U:00, 11 OO and 11 40 aiu., il Ml, 4 1U. 10:00and 11 :V0pan. On buuday. W OO, 11 40a. IL, i? :50, 4 10. 10 :00 asi 11 wp m Limited 1 xprsss ot liiilmaa parlor Can, W 40 aa. daily, except Sunday, and 3.45 p.m. dally, with Luuu ?*r" FOR PHILADELPHIA OKLV Fast Exprasa K:1U a. lu. w??k rtaya, aud a iO ? m. dany. Exprass -:10 p. m. dally. Acvoui. 0 p. m. mm. For Loauin. without rhanrt. -;&<> p. m. every day. Jr'or Bruokly u. > . k? all throurh traina cx.uuact a* Jersey city-with boats ol Brooklyn Annex aBurd ina dlrsct transfer to Fulton atrnt, avoidiutf double ferries acroaa New York city. For ocean city aud huuta on Dsiawars Liviaioa, 1:17 p. m. ?eek days. For Atlantic City W 00, 11:00 and 11.40 a. m. ? ll> day a, 11 -O n. m_ dally. For Baltimore, 6 35. 7 : J0. 8 10, 0:00. V:?0.? 50 11:00, and i 1:40 a. Bi, 1? o5. 1 17, * 10. 50 3:4a4 1U.*-?. * *?'? ?-0U 7 *0. *;10. 10 anu 11 :'H) p. in. Ob Kuuday , k oft, W ub, w .jO. 11:40a. m? 11:10. K:50. 3 45. 4.1UC UU ?4U 6:1U 10 00,and 11:1?0|?. ui. Tot l*ope'a Creek Line, < -t a-m sad 4.-40 p.m. daily, except Sunday. For Ai napolia.7 -JO and W OO am.. lZO&.4:ZOaad ti:00 p.m. daily, sxoapt kuuday buudaya. k? 05 t.m.,4:lUP.iu- * AL1XANDR1A AND KRl DEhH KsBl KO 1-A1L ?AV, ANU ALEXANDRIA AKD WAbBIKUTO* li EFFECT MAY la, 1880. Wag Alexandria, 4 iKI, 0.35. t :45. K 40, ? :4b. 10 57 a.u.? 12:04 WMkXjjjk 4:2i4:5i. 0:Ol, t 21, h n^, 10 :05 anu 11:37 i?.m. On Maaday at 4 :WL 7 45, h 45.10.57 ain..2:35,0:01.8:0.'and 10.-5X r m. Aooomuiodation for Qnantlco, 7:45 a m. aad 4 55 p.an week day a. 7 4ft a.m. buudaya. For Richmond and the booth. 4 3?k 10:57 a. m. i . and 0:21 p. u. daily, except Sunday. Ixains Isare Alexandria for WaahiiKTton, C Oft, 7:0th S OO.K.10, It1.15,11:07 a. ui ; 1 :-jOl S.-OU, 3:lC. 5:10,7 05.8:00.0:20. 10:32. and ll:Oft p. uZ On Sunday at a lO and 11 KJ7 a an; 2:0tk 5.101 7:05, 8 0(1. 0:20. aud 10:32 p.m. Tickets aud information at the office, north east oar ner of l.ith etreet and Wnasylvalue aad at the statiou. where or lers can be Isft for tbs checking of bMrmre to d leUnaUoh froai hotela aad CHAS. E. rt'GH. J. R. W OOD, QA^XILLMOCirrAIK^ LAEE OEORQE, ADIROKDACEE On and alter bl NDA\,4tias -3, ekpress trains aa West snore Railroad wdl run Daily. sx. ept Sunday, to aud lrom tbs Jersey City stationed the 1-cuaaji van la R?uroad. rnakiuc oloee ouaaectioaa with task trains to aud from toaabiiurtou. CATSIULL MOI N1ALN l.Kl'REM.-Leave Jersey City biauon at ?.50 a m Amvs Plxstllcia. 12 66 p. m.. oi ail.. Botel. 1 .45 p.Xi.. Hotel kaaterskU. :. 18 p.m.; Moont House uteOoa, ldio p.m.. PaleoTttta. , ... i m lira win*-room Cam Jxrse; dtl to tlrsaj Hotel Station aud to Pkatalcm tier Hotel EaaleraklU aud Mountain House). sAhA 1 oo A AND CATS KILL MT. EXPUCM. Lsave Philadelphia. 8 .20a.au Artvs Pkaalcu. t H p m.. Orwnd Hotel, 4 ,i;6 p.m., Hotal Kaatera^ Jl.4 p.m; Mt. Hooas BtsUon. 4 15pm; h|H pju. Arrive aaratoKa. 0.80 pm.; Oal Oeocaa, slop m. Drawun Rtxaa Cees to Urmad Hotel Statloa and to II I Ksalerak111 and Moaataui House>, well and Jerssy citj to baratoaa. SARATOGA AKb CATKESX Jf*J Leave WMblagbsi 9.QQ a.m. Arrive 1 >24teep30 attorneys. P^irToiAKB^SbCMML^I^TlAW. 1196-2. PROFESSIONAL. WOOD AND OOAik