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The Y akim a Herald.
VOL. 3. THE YAKIMA HERALD. Metal Paper of Yatiaa Conti. BEEP < COE. . . ~ Prcprirtws. HUH BVBET THURSDAY. |2.00 PER ANNUM. IN ADVANCE. Atarfeiu Kates Dpi Apylkatiai. E. M. Rkkd, Editor and Business Manager. PROFESSIONAL CARDS. • KOSOB TFBMXS. W. J.MILROV. L. I. HOWLBTT. TURNER, MILROY A HOWLETT, Attorneys at Law, WORTH YAKIMA, WASH, L. 8. Hewlett, ex-Receiver of Pnbtlc Moneys at the V. 8. Land Office, will fire Special attention to making out paper* for Settleri, and to Land Conteete. H. J. BNIVELY, Attorney at Law. with County Treasurer, at the Coart House, North Yakima. Will practice In all the courts of the territory and U. 6. land offices I. B. BKAVIS. I *• REAVIS A MIRES. Attorneys at Law. practice in all Courts of the Territory, special attention given to all V. 8. land office business. Offices at North Yakima and Ellens bnrgb, W. T. ■TOWARD WHITSON. FRZD CAREER. WHITSON A PARKER, Attorneys at Law. MF*ON<* in First Nations! Bank Building. S. O. MORFORD, Attorney at Law, Practice* la all Court* in the Territory. K*- peclal attention to Collection*. .. OCBce up ataln over Fechter A Rom , North Yakima. ________ _____ WH. O. COE, M. D. Office on Second atraet. near Allen'* Drug Store. once Hour*—»till 10 a. m.,2 till 4p. m. and 7 till 8 o'clock p. m. Kaaldeuce cor. A and Fourth St., North Yakima. O. M. GRAVES, DENTIST. All work in my line flr*t-< Is**. Local anesthet ic* used to extract teeth without pain. No charge for examination. over First National Baua. J. T. KINGSBURY, Civil Engineer. Ornct: Room No. 1, Kingsbury Build ing, ~North Yakima, Washington. M. P. ZINDORF, or ALL KINDS OF BI II.DINOS A BRIDGES. Will Contract to build all kind* of buildings. Ofßce, Lewis A Engle building-ground floor. GEO. W. RODMAN, Beal Me, Loam and toranee, OFFICE in SYNDICATE SLOCK, North Yakteimm, - - Wish. ESCHBACH & HAMEL, MTitiniMliLlU. Weed. Mud Lnkr Delivered. Fine Spring Truck* for moving Pianos, Organs aad rural tare. Office at Hotel Bartbolet Roslyn Coal, Dry Wood and Fence Posts Always on Hand. (awn will kin U Pij Cuk «kei Mw tag. Kt SO Itaji m Fid. JOHN REED, Agent^ TtL© Blit©. Headquarters (or the best brands o iIV WERT AMD DOMEITK; CIUAM. —Also a Complete Assortment of— SMOKERS' ARTICLES, STATIONERY, NOTIONS, CDT lbry, rants, arts, Roberts' coNracnoNaav. Comfortable Oyster Parlors in Connection. Ovr Goods are First Class and Prices reasonable, a. AREMDT, Mfcnafr. m NATIONAL m of North Yakima. Diaacroas. Thao. Wllco*, Wm. Ker, chas. Carpenter, A. W. Engle, Edward Whitson. gffgj. »ISW2° J. E. Lewis, A. W. Ekole. President ___ Vice President. W. L. BTBINWEO, Cashier. DOM A QENKBAL BANKING BUSINESS. !■;» —4 Mi Kich—ge it liomMi lifao. PAT! INTKBnr ON TIME DEPOSITS. —Dr. Savage will be found aiwaya ready to attend calls day or night. Office over Eabetman Bros, store; residence on Second street, two doors south IT. 8. land office. AN OLMASHMHBt HAIB. Hhe mb peel end boll poutoM, make • mU4 of tomotoea, but «be doesn't know • Latin noun from Greek; And so well ibe cook* a chicken that your appe tite twould quicken, but she cannot tell what * modern from antique. dhe knows how to set a table and make order out of babet bat she doesn’t know Karlp- Ides from Kant; Once at making pies I caught her—Jove' an ea pert must hare taught her-but she doesn’t know true eloquence from rent flbe has quite a Arm conviction one ought only to read fletion, end she doesn't care tor science, not a bit; And the way she makes her bonnets, sure It'a worth a thousand sonnets, but she doesn't yearn for “cnltme, not" a whit She can make her wraps and dresses till a fellow fast confesses that there’s not another maiden half as sweet: She’s immersed la home completely, where she keeps all things so nsatly. but from Brown ing not a line can she repeat Well, in fact she's Just a woman, gentle, torshle and human, and her faults ahols quite ready to admit: Twas foolish to hare tarried, so we went off and were married, and I tw you 1 am mighty glad of it —Nathan M. Levy, in Judea. k Iw Ufrsd tattw. Richard Mansfield, of Washington has produced a new national anthem which has been accepted by the chief executive for the people of the United States and which at a recent conceit was approved by the president’s cabinet, the diplomatic corps and many distinguished guests. It is entitled "Hail to the Flag,” and the words are as follows: Thou art my Joy. my hope, my strength, my comfort; in the hour of darkness I torn to thee; On thy dear shores alone can I And refuge, As Ilfs is dear, my home is dear to me. When all is dark and storm clouds gather o'er me, To thy dear land I turn the eye of hope. Free from the yoke of tyrant and usurper, Free to the free, thou land of giant scope. Son of the lake and son of field and forest, Son of the isle and also son of sea: Men who were slaves and men who fonght for Hail to the Flag of God and Liberty. IIVEITMI W TU CAIBU. It Pint it Wn htkiag lit u titirdy lirk bM-tMctUmbify AutnrPW t«nptfr Im IM Kant. The camera was invented by an Italian named Baptista Porte, though it was not at first used for photographing. It was in reality merely a dark room, into which the light was admitted through a little round bole on one side. The rays of light coming from objects outside of this room entered it through this aperture, and made a picture on the other side of the room, glowing in all the beauty and color of nature itself, but rather indisinct and upside down. This dark room was contrived by Porta about the middle of the sixteenth century. He improved it, later, by placing a glass lens in the aperture,and out side a mirror which received the rays of light and re flected them through the lens, so that the image upon the opposite wall within was made much brighter, more distinct, and in a natural or erect position. This was really the first camera obecnra, an inven tion which is enjoyed to the present day, being snituated often upon a hilltop, where a picturesque country surrounding may be reflected through a lens, which is placed in the center of the conical roof. Now,our modern phogoraphic camera is merely a small camera obecnra in its sim plest form, carving a lense at one end and a ground glass screen at the other. It is, however, often much more compli cated in its construction.—lT. /. L. Adorn in Christian Union. ETHjI'ETTE DP nTtIiOTMC CAM. Kiln 6«tnu«* the Uie the flitud Vta Qdb UnH k IHmi Etiquette is no end end of trouble to Americans. There is a general endeavor to do the polite thing, and the presence of a Ward McAllister in our midst pre vents absolute sacrilege in the matter of social customs. But there are many things the social world ia not quite sure about, and English etiquette only helps us out, without absolutely establishing rules for us. The little point of “first calls’’ is settled by an unalterable social code in England, and the way in which the visiting card ia managed shows no small degree the or der of society to which the owner belongs. For instance, it is considered bad form to send in a card when a first visit is made. Thia lathe invariable method of a book canvasser or an applicant (or money, or even the purchaser of ‘‘old clothes." The first five minutes would then be taken up with the explanation that yon were not any of these if. not knowing the common usage, you sent in your card. This is all very well in a country where servants have been trained from tbs be ginning of time in the habits of "good society," but in the country, when* ser vants of all nationalities are employed, and where it is no unusual'thing for a mistress to make a dossn "changes" in a year, it is far from certain that visitor’s name will be properly announced, and the custom Is quite provident of sending In a card. On regular at boom days cards are entirely out of place, but on the oecarion of a reception a card is invariably Ml on the hall table before departure. Aa to bow soon a tut call should be returned. If the visitor is one whoso ac quaintance yon are very anxious to make, the return visit should be mads within ten days. If you neglect to carry out this formal acceptance el the friendship of your visitor, unless there is a good reason, she has a right to feel agrisved and judge that yon do not rare for her aoquantlaoce. NORTH YAKIMA, WASHINGTON, THURSDAY, MARCH 5, 1891. TREASURES OF THE AZTECS. H. Elder Haggard lid His Strugs Jour ney to luico. The Story off Dsn ledrlgnsa Has started the Author In Search of Haasaaceaad Reality. H. Rider Haggard recently arrived in the United States and ia now beaded toward Mexico, out on the trail of a ■object which he confidently believes will afford him maters! for a new story which promises to out-Haggard any thing which hia pen baa yet produced. Late last fall be began to look about for a new field In which to find material for another novel. Africa bad been exhausted, the south Mas had been partly utilised for "Mr. Meesoo'a Will,” and the frozen north had just been called upon to furnish matter for "Eric Brighteyes.” A number of English gentleman own country seats in the neighborhood of Mr. Haggard's home, among them being Captain Herbert Armitsge, formerly of the ninth lancers, British army. Early in November he invited a number of friends in London to ran up to his place for a few days' shooting, and among those whocatuewas a Mexican gentleman named Don Sebastian Juarez Rodriguez, whom Captain Armitsge had met while traveling in Mexico a few years before and was then visiting England. During his visit to Captain Armitsge, Don Rodriguez met Mr. Haggard, and having Mexico in view as a likely place to find material for a new novel, the latter naturally sought to obtain all the information possible from Don Rodigoez, aliout his country, iur ancient inhabitants and their legends. It did not take the novelist long to discover that the Mexican waa not only particularly well informed on the subject, but had a story to tell. Don Rodriguez began by saying that he waa a direct descendant of the Spanish icwader, Cortez, who came to Mexico in 1610, and an Axtec woman of rank, whom the Spaniard secretly married. Cortex and bis followers were most handsomely rewarded by the Axtec Emperor Montezuma, on their arrival in the City of Mexico, but in 1620 Cortex repaid his friendliness by imprisoning Montezuma in s fortress. When other Axtec princes and caciques came to the emperor’s sid they were also imprisoned. These acts of treachery on the part of Cortes caused the Aztecs to attack the Spaniards. Pedro de Alcantara gave battle to the Astecs and defeated them, a number of Aztec nobles being killed. Their treasures, consisting of gold dust, gold ornaments and precious stones, taken from neighboring princes in raids made on their provinces, were appropriated by the Spaniards. In the same year that this battle took place the Aztecs attacked the Spaniards in return, and driving them from the City of Mexico, slaughtered them iu large numbers on the Talspsn rosd. After forcing the Spsniards from the City of Mexico, the Astecs, fearing that their enemies might return and recapture the city, decided to so secrete the treasures that the covetous Spaniards could not again obtain possession of them. With this object in view their gold ornaments, gold utensils and precious stones, spoils of war which had been tribute to the conquesed princes years before from thousands of subjects, were so securely hidden that, with but few exceptions, few of these treasures have ever been found, it being supposed that part were thrown into the lake near the City of Mexico, while more was Imried in the earth in different sections of the country. Although married to Cortez his Aztec wife did not forswear allegiance to her people. When the treasures belonging to her people were secreted with those of other Aztec families, she was informed of their hiding place, and true to her people, never revealed the location to the enemy. Previous to her death she left to her children a plan, drawn on parchment, showing the location of her family’s hidden treasures, but the Spaniards having gained possession of the country, sided by reinforcements from Spain, it was impossible to recover the treasures without the fact becom ing known to the Spaniards, who would have seized them at once. The documents were thus handed down from father to sou, but.even after Mexico had passed out of the possession of Spain, the many revolutions,attended by constant changes of governments, prevented search for the treasure being advisable. To Don Rodriguez the chart plan of the location of the treasures came at last by older of descent from father to son. j This document indicated that within one league and a half of the City of Mexico, in a southeasterly direction, at a desig nated spot, close to one of the two large pyramids of stone, tlie treasure was buried. About twenty miles from the City of Mexico, on the line of the Mexican rail road to Vera Crus, is the pueblo or village of Tsotibuacan. A short distance away, and almost visible horn the car windows, are two immense stone pyramids, identi cal in form to those in Egypt. Don Rodrigues decided that these were the pyramids designated in his location chart of the treasures, and ope day in the spring of 1800 decided to make a secret search for the valuables. Going to tbs spot indicated he found a flat atone which fitted in a sunken hole sunk along the side of a small rocky hill. The stone was forced out with some difficulty by aid of a crowbar and an opening in the ground six feet deep was revealed. The aide had been roughly walled up with flat stones, but no steps could be seen. Many such excavations, presumably made by the Ax tecs, can be seen to-day ia any number of places throughout Mexico. Lowering himself into this pit Don Rodriguex found a tunnel large enough to admit a map’s body, branching off at right angles. Passing through this open ing and provided with a lantern he found that it gradually increased in sixe until it assumed the proportions of a chamber large enough to stand erect in. Two other tunnels branched off in different directions. The walls of the chamber, which were of solid stone, were carved with figures of Aztec indi viduals, while the writing used by the Aztecs could be seen in many places. Following the tunnel which branched to the right he entered a still larger room. Here he found on the floor a stone box, nearly three feet square. Forcing off the lid he saw an earthenware vessel, which on picking up proved to be quite heavy. Emptying the contents on the floor, there was exposed to view a large heavy gold ring, curiously chased and engraved with peculiar signs sud figures, about one dosen abeithian arrow heads, a number of small rabies and a voluminous roll of Axtec parchment, covered with hiero glyphics, the meaning of which Rodri gues could not understand. Evening was approaching and he could not prosecute hia search any longer. Returning to the entrance of the cave he replaced the stone and so concealed its presence that it could not be discovered by the others. Three hours later he was at his apartments in tbe City of Mexico. On tlie following day he submitted the ring and roll of parchment to several arcbeoligista of repute. They unhesitat ingly declared their convictions that the first bad once been the official ring of some Aztec priest of high rank, and apart from its intrinsic worth was of great value from an archeological point of view. The roll of parchment, the writing on which they could not completely decipher, contained much important and hitherto unknown history of the Axtec people and the invasion of Mexico by the Spaniards, and also the description and location of an immense quantity of Axtec treasure bidden in the neighboring state, which had been recovered from the biding place where the manuscript was found. In addition to this was the announcement that the wearer of the ring would be pre served from all harm while being worn on the finger. A lew days later he was summoned to London bycnbleon business connected with a large transaction pending between himself and some English capitalists. Daring his his journey he wore the Aitec ring. While traveling between St. Louis and Cincinnati his train met with an accident, four people in his car being killed and a number injured. Don Rod rigues escaped without a scratch. Dur ing his stay in New York, previous to sailing for England, the elevator in which he was riding with several other guests one day met with an accident and fell to the bottom of the shaft. Several pas sengers were badly hurt, but the Mexican escaped without injury. Since arriving in England be had met with several narrow escapes from serious accidents, and while not superstitious, bad finally come to look upon the Aztec ring as exercising a cer tain influence upon his personal aafety and escape from bodily harm. Having almost completed the business arrange ments which had called him to London, he intended returning to Mexico in a short time, and would then endeavor to gain more knowledge about the matters spoken of in the Artec parchment manu script. The Mexican’s story interested Mr. Haggard deeply, and while making due allowance for possible exaggerations, he felt convinced that the story related by Don Rodrigues contained the essentials for another startling novels of the Hag gard type. He therefore began making arrangements to leave for Mexico, accom panied by his wife and Don Rodrigues. Early in January they arrived in New York, and in a few days left that city for Mexico. | Santa rf the PrtfouM. Stage Manager—Where is Afghan Lumbago, the tattooed Zulu? Property Boy—He got caught in the rain coming from supper, and he is down stairs having the scenic artist touch him op- . . 1 CeiUi'tTVnk ef It. “Here’s a pretty good coat, if you want it,” said the warm nearted woman. “ Your kindness excuses your ignorance, ma’am,” answered Mr. Weary Walkius, “but I can’t wear no sack coat with this silk hat.” Jk (nigt fulfill. First Dramatic Reporter Say, did you hear that sensation about Mme. Primodoona’s diamonds? Second Dramatic Reporter—What! are they stolen again? First Dramatic Reporter—No; they’re real! —The only man who can get money for you on farm ami city property is J. B. Pngsley. A YOOKG BELLI 0? GOTHAM. Bov t Dtlsty In Tort Girl G*b Onr tk« Boning Boors. From (lis Tlbm Mm Rises Till Mm RlSes Is Iks Park-Th* Foreign l.srS atntoSs Ns Chases. When first the lashes of Dorothy, maid of precious jineage and resident of the Hill, flutter upward at the reasonable hour of 9 in the morning, and the luxu rious mystery of her chamber is unveiled t« her sleepy eyes, her first thought is of the bsth. last night a white and hag gard youth may have sworn to end hia miserable life for unrequited love of her; to-day one may be coming to claim the hand she has sold for a title—these mat ters do not interest her. "Celine,” she murmurs, throwing an arm ont from under tbe coven and look ing in the direction of tlie portieres that separate her bedroom from her boudoir. A slim young maid in cap and very plain black drees appears noise lessly, and, slipping across the carpet, throws the heavy window curtains to one side, letting tlie yellow light of day burn through the lace shades. “Have the water very hot, Celine,” gurgles the interesting figure in the bed, and then the fair fane is buried in the pillow again and the shoulders give a little shiver under the tight-drawn blanketa. The Journey from the bed to the bath tub is not a serious affliction when one can thrust each tender foot into a down lined slipper and envelop the shrinking form in a voluminous gown of softest silk. Dorothy rather likes the little dash across the hall and often laughs to herself while making it, somewhat aa a bird chirps when it flutters down to the edge of the fountain and anticipates the pleasant plunge. One must lose sight of the di sheveled girl during the time she is in the bath. With the swiah of waters there are little sighs of contentment. Dorothy loves her tub. It is a commendable pas sion in the society girl to do so. THE BCD's BREAKKAHT. A cup of breakfast tea, two thin bits of toast, a chop with a garland of cress about it, and a snowy egg, surrounded by an equally snowy napkin, are on a tray that rests on a very thin legged table in the boundoir. In choicest china or silver this matutinal refreshment awaits the coming of the aristocratic young creature who has had her hair dressed by Celine, and now enters the little satin lined paradise attired in soft cream cashmere, trimmed with black for. The sunlight falls on her face. Not a trace of last night's dissipation is visible. White and clear is the flesh, the month is a deep red, the eyes are lustrous and humid. A picture of perfect freshness and triumph ant loveliness, the society girl turns her thoughts to tea and toast. Her’s is a won derful life. Maria, who lives in Harlem and goes to the dances given by “The Sons of (ien tlemen Society,” would not take off a cream colored dress trimmed with fur until midnight if she once got it on, but Dorothy could not leave her private apart ments in such a guise, so she sheds her egg and mutton chop costume immediately after she consumes her second cup of tea, and Celine lays oat for her the more elaborate gown in which she can feel safe to descend the stairs of her parents’ house. A society girl in her downstairs morn ing dress is a very sweet thing. She looks like the young wife in the French come dies—extremely birdlike and kiasable. The lines of the figure seem unusually soft. The gentle curve asserts itself with a more tender freedom than it hasa chance to do later in the day. The dewy fresh ness of a lately awakened life is in her hair and a crisp, clean rustle in her white skirts. It might be fairly said that the society young woman reaches the true senith of her possibilities when she comes down stairs and kisses her mother good morning. Up to that time she has been a beauty negligee. Later on she grows theatrical, occasionally spectacular. De cidedly, she is at best at the ripe hour of 10 a. ro.. when she leaves her boudoir and goes down to ask after the family’s health. Dorothy’s mother must be a tall, ex pensive, Roman nosed lady, with an abundance of diamond cluster Hogs, to be an oat and oat society mamma. A morn ing coetame of lavender is appropriate for her. It softens the complexion and sets off gray hair exceptionally well. She gives her cheek for her daughter to kiss. “Did Brewsalepropose to you last night, my child?’’ asks the mother. The daughter glances over her morning mail that awaits her on the table. A let ter that she wanted is not there. She frowns and tears open the envelopes im patiently. “Brewsale was tipsy last night,” she replies to her mother’s query. “He pro posed to me five times—every time he danced with me, In fact. Naturally I re fused him. Jack was there.” . The Bother frowns now. “That starveling is everywhere,” she says. “I wish you wouldn’t worry me by having a sentiment over that fellow.” "Oh, I’ll many a foreign lord for you,” responded the daughter in a voice that is almost harsh. “They are thick enough, heaven knows. Perhaps it won’t be Brewsale, I don’t like the odor of him. Jack says it’s gin that makse him like that.” "I have arranged Lord Brewsale’s orchids in the drawing room,” said the mother, ignoring her daughter’s observa tions. "What have you done with Jack’s roses?” asks Dorothy. "Ob, 1 left them in their psper. There were only half a dozen of them. There are three or four other bunches of flowers for you this morning, though none from any one of consequence.” It could hardly be expected that a girl of 30, with big, penetrating eyes and swift flowing blood, would agree with her mother as to who is of consequence and who is not. It is not surprising that she does not even go into the drawing room to see the nobleman’s orchids, and that she hunts up that small bunch of rossa from Jack and takes them to her boudoir. Society girls actually have delightful qualities of heart and mind to start with, and occasionally they retain them through the excitement of social training. It is rather diflleult, however, to withstand the Influence of friends and parents and rise superior to conventional ambitions. Per haps Dorothy is sentimental and honest hearted at 20, but it would be hard io say what she may be at 21. A clever mother can accomplish a good deal in a year. DOROTHY'S VISITOR*. There ia a peal of laughter in the ball. A particularly clean shaven, dignified and stately young servant announces the arrival of Mias Von Beeckman, Miss Cadwallader-Jones and Miss Fahnestock. These young ladies, by Invitation, come rushing up to the morning room, bringing with them the breezy sweetness of the cold outer air, and Dorothy becomes a target for their caresses. Society girls do not chatter, but they seldom abandon their feminine predilections so completely as not to talk with daxsling rapidity. Four of them together are almost as exciting as fireworks. "What did you think of him? Hasn’t he a frightfully red nose?” "Mamma says he’s a chum of the Prince of Wales.” "What is hir. full title? His father ia very feeble, you now, and it would he rather clever, wouldn't it, to marry an earl?” "Jack says he told tbe man at tbe club that tbe best tiling he had found in America were the gin cocktails and tbe women.” “Between you and me, I don’t think he wants to marry verry much. He ran after the married women all last night. You were the only girl he took any notice of, Dorothy. How dose he impress you ?” “Smelly.” “So I thought. And then his whiskers. They are so like my poodle.” “I’D wager you are engaged to him within a month.” “Oh, how can you? They aay lie has two of the finest estates in England. M-m! I wish my Dick had been a viscount. Dear me, the greatest thing be did was to get his nose broken playing foot ball." “Where are you girls off to?" “Going to get a Turkish bath. We want yon to come along." “Oh, no, I can’t. I’m going to take a gallop through the park with Jack in half an hour. I’m a little seedy, too. Walten! Walters!" The stately servant steps in from the ball. “Bring cocktails," says the young hostess. As the servant departs to execute the order another, quite as clean and stately as be, enters. “Mr. Rutherford is hat the door with ’is tnp, and will Miss Dorothy ’ave a drive?” “No, Wilkinson. Tell Mr. Rutherford I am a trifle Indisposed—oh, no, don’t do that. Ho will see me in the park later. Toll him I’m engaged in my sculptor class." “Ob, Dorothy,” cried one of the young women as the servant leaves the room, “I beard some one order a bracelet for you at Tiffany’a the other day. I sha’n’t let you know who it was." “Diamonds?" “Diamonds and pearls." “It’s Jack, then, and he most have stolen the money to do it with. He’s such a dear fellow. How do you like my hair down in a coil ?’’ “Lovely! Is that one of your Worth dresses?’’ “Yea; rather pretty, isn’t it?" “Awfully. Isn’t that loose look at the waist Just swell? And tboae puffy sleeves. They are dreams. How did you ever think of that sweet checkered jacket? It’s all so soft and floaty, isn’t it?" Walters sppears with the cocktails. They are called cherry cocktails for the reason that each contains a preserved cherry, which the young women pick out of the glass with their finger tips after consuming the slight draught of ver mouth and whisky. On the tray with the cocktails is a small crystal dish filled with sugared roee leaves. Wilkinson, the othegservant, bears into the' room a card upon a silver plate. “Oh, it’s Utile Teddy Smythe, girls," cried Dorothy, reading the card. “Let’s have him up here a minute.” The next moment Teddy Smythe ap pears. He is an auburn tinted young man, with a very red face, white teeth and twinkling eyes. He shakes bands very methodicaUy with all the girls, hold ing their Angers even with his chin as he does so. ■atmAjrr mb. surras. "Haw!” exclaimed Mr. Anyth*. “Went to a Jolly food variety show the otter night, girls. Mao there said he west to a dinner party at MoCarty’e. Mr. Me* NO. 6. Carty served soap first and man didn’t know there was going to be anything else. He atffive plates and then they brought on a ten coarse dinner. Man sat for three hoars full of soap. Terrible bore, he said. Got to go now. Just dropped in to say an aunt of mine in England had died and left me $60,000. Going to give a breakfast to the prettiest girl in town just in the way of celebra tion. You are all invited. Ta, ta. Re member me to your mother. No, thank you. Never drink before ladies-before luncheon, I mean.” Mr. Smythe shakes bands once more all round the group and departs, after assuring each girl that she looks like a pink rose at sunrise. The young ladies laugh, say Mr. Smythe is a dear little follow, and then plunge once move into conversation. “What are you going to wear at the Oaaterbilk ball to-morrow night, dear?” “Yellow, I think.” “That will go eo well with your beauti ful black hair. Oh, by the way, shall you be at the Bronson-Sharps this after noon?” “No. I’ve got to go down and boy 300 presents for that Sunday school in Eightfi street. Our society insisted that I should do it and I’ve got S6OO in my pocket to te do it with. Some one has got to help me, for I don’t know what the poor little things would like.” “Got them each a pair of tronsers.” “But half of them are girls, child.” The servant enters and announces the fencing master. “I can't fence to-day, Walters,” said Dorothy. “Tell M. Castillard lam sorry to have troubled him. I should have sent him word. Ask him if he will not have a glass of port and a biscuit in the dining room. Now, girls, come to my boudoir and talk to me while I am potting on my riding habit. Jack will be here in a few moments.” The four young ladies scampered up over the stairs and shut themselves in the soft perfumed little room where Celine, the maid, aids her beautiful mistress to exchange her morning costume for the habit. Aa the door swinge to, a peculiar harp, which sends forth aeolian harmony when agitated, fills the air with sweet uess. A small tortoise shell kitten in a huge yellow silk ruffle leaps to the shoulder of the prettiest of the visitors, and rubs its face in the for of the young lady’s cape. A rnnning fire of conversation is kept up. Dorothy vanishes into the adjoining room at a critical moment during her toilet, and when she returns she Is ready for her horse, with the exception of her silk bat and crop, which await her on the table. A knock at the door is answered by her maid, who comes beck with a card for her mistress. “It’s Jack," she says, and the color of young roses rises up from her throat into her cheeks. Down stain the bevy of beauties flies. Jack is lounging up and down the hall, beating hia boot with his crop and humming an air from “Poor | Jonathan.” He offen his salutations to I all the young women, and while prepar ing to make a graceful remark to the three callers those thoughtful young ladies kiss Mistress Dorothy farewell and rush from the boose. A servant is npidly escaping through the gloom of the back ball. The house is very still. One may bear the old fashioned clock at the bead of the stain ticking away the seconds. One may also hear No matter what one may hear. One must be very sharp of ear to distinguish the soft sound. The door opens, and the pale light of the street streams into the room. Down at the curb stands two saddle horses in the bands of grooms. The young people look at one another and speak. Passers by might believe they spoke of the weather. “Then that gin cocktail lord does not stand a ghost of a show?" says Jack. “Not unless you commit suicide or run away or do some other dreadful thing," replies the girl, starting down the steps. “You’re an angel," whispers Jsck, running close at her side. “Oh, no, I’m not," says Dorothy over her shoulder. “I’m a society girl. There’s a tremendous difference." As the two ride up the avenue toward the park the people on the sidewalks turn to look at the exquisitely slender figure of the girl, who sits her horse with the confidence and unconscious grace of an amaxon. She is by all means the most beautisul thing in sight, though cathe drals and palaces rear themselves proudly on every side. “I must be back by 12," she calls to her companion. “I must workon a head that I’m going to give to yon. The sculp ture teacher is coming at noontime. Call for me at 3 and I'U let yon take me to the oratorio at the opera house." As the smooth and soft bridle path of the park is reached and Dorothy starts her long limbed hunter into a sharp can ter the onlooker is not so sure that the difference la so very wide between the best type of society girl and the alleged angel.—CAtcapo Times. ha POaes Pasenger (reflecting)—l am sure I bad als gold piece among the change in my pocket. (To ports*—l aay. poster, did I give yon a |5 gold piece along with those nickels and dimes? Porter (calmly)—Teeeahl What about it, eah? WaM*l it good. —Prices' down, profits small, and no jawbone taken at jTh. Carpenter’s, tf