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HEE IMMORTAL YOUTH.
Mrs. Hicks-Lord, a Remarkably Beautiful Woman and a Social Leader in New York. Her "Wonderful Jewels Include Pearls, Eubies, Emeralds and a $120,000 Diamond Necklaoe. How the Notable Lady Acquired Her Millions— Her Magnificent Home Ber Daily Toilet Not Surpassed for Splendor in Any European Court. Mrs. Hicks-Lord, who has been a social eaderof note in New York for many rears, has come prominently into notice as •he purchaser of the tine old house in West : Washington square where Gen. McCiellan i ived during the last two or three winters ! »f his life, and where she expects to make i i permanent home. Mrs. Lord has pur- \ shased the house for some good, round sum indoubtedly, as she possesses a large for nine. She has moved her many valuable possessions from her former home in Four teenth street, and has returned, after a de- Ightful summer at Saratoga, to enjoy the luiet of her new mansion and the society if her large circle of acquaintances. Ii ' will also be remembered, says the Sew York Journal, that Mrs. Hicks-Lord vas a Miss Schenck, of Poughkeepsie, Mien she married her first husband, Henry Hicks, a man of vast wealth. At his leath she became possessed of a large por tion of his rotate, which was mainly in rested in Toledo, 0., property. Her brilliant career as a society queen in London is familiar to everybody. When she married her second husband, | Mr. Lord, her beauty and accomplishments i were the theme of many conversations in j social circles, where her society was much i sought alter. She married Mr. Lord in j January. 1878. A year later she was left % widow. From Mr. Lord's estate she re- : jeived an additional fortune, which made j tier vastly rich. The house, which is No. 32. is one of the | broad, old-tashioned mansions, built over half a century ago. when spaciousness and solidity were preterred to gilding, and the great wide hall of tesselated marble, with . its broad winding staircase of black walnut ; at one side, its lofty ceiling and carved fur- , oiture, is an index to the rest of the inte- j rior. • I The three large drawing-rooms, the spa- ! cious dining-room beyond, the great bed- '. rooms upstairs, with their carved post bed- ; steads, old-fashioned wardrobes and chairs, t remind one more of some old-fashioned i country mansion than the New York homo of a woman of fashion and wealth. But Mrs. Lords undisputed good taste j has saved the old mansion from any incon- | gruity. She brought all her old-fashioned -hairs and sofas, candlesticks and pictures, j curtains and in'rrors. and they are placed i so appropriately that they seem to have ! grown with the bouse and to have been ilways there. Some few improvements, such as paint ing and frescoing, putting in new bath rooms and the like, have been effected, but they are not particularly noticeable, and were evidently made moie for comfort than show. The little central ing- room where Mrs. Lord receives her friends is one of the most interesting in the bouse, it is crowded with carved furniture, highly polished; on the walls hang many old oil paintings, portraits and landscapes in the flat, gilded frames fashionable a half-century ago. Carved candlesticks of brass and silver, vases as quaint as could be wished for, real blue willow- ware plates, and bric-a-brac collected from every quarter of the globe DICKINSON'S Drj Goods Department.', ANOTHER CUT! PRICES TELL I Bargains for Everyone ! 0 J WE WI LL OFFEF Wednesday, Thursday, Friday & Saturday Only 5 CASES EACH OF THE FOLLOWING RENOWNED MANUFACTURERS' PRINTS! I Made by Dunnel, G-arniers, Gr. M. Richmond & Sons and Simpson & Arnold.. The above are all warranted the best makers, and we sell them for These prints are sold all over the country for 6c. Our Price For Remainder 0! the Week ONLY 31 CENTS. FOURTH, FIFTH AND ST. PETER STREETS. are placed on tables and stands and on the mantels. Here every afternoon Mrs. Lord sips her , afternoon tea, with a friend or two per- j haps, and after a pleasant chat, which is never dull, she goes off to dress for I dinner. The mistress of this mansion who is worth several millions of money and is i noted in the world of fashion as wearing ! most costly gowns and jewels — possesses a ' most interesting character, and is not simply a nonentity or doll, as are many good women of the same position. She is independent almost to the verge of eccentricity in both dress and speech; she is a noted wit, and does not even spare her self. She is devoted to many chaiitable objects, and. most unusual of all. acknowl edges herself to be "an old woman." to use her own expression, and in all probability would have distinguished herself in some walk in life had she not been born in the purple, for she possesses an unusual amount of energy. Although Mrs.Lord is probably nearer 50 she does not look more than 40, and is as erect and agile as a girl of 20. She is tall, taller than Mary Anderson. She is very erect, and is plump without being at all stout. Her figure is as rounded as that of most women of SO. Her head is finely | poised and her face lit by a pair of kindly but shrewd brown eyes. Her features are not regular, but are nevertheless attractive, and a prolusion of black hair worn crimped and in a loose coil crowns her head. For over thirty years she has been well i known here, although she was born in the South and was a belle in Richmond and Washington in the good old days before the war. She has spent her summers at Sara toga and Long Branch. Newport and the White Sulphur, and her dresses and equip ages have become well known. This summer she was one of the notable people at Saratoga, although she lived quietly at one of the cottages of the Wind sor hotel, at the lower end of Broadway, and did not appear at many of the hotel entertainments. Her English victoria, with its handsome bays jingling in silver harness, her footman and coachman in green and cream livery, was always pointed out when she took her afternoon drive. The cottage was handsomely furnished, and she dispensed an almost regal hospital ity among her acquaintances, which in cluded the Hiltons. Mrs. A, T. Stewart and others as well known. Every morning she was up at 5 o'clock with the larks, and at 0 was ready for a long walk of five or six miles. Sometimes the walk was taken with a charitable ob ject in view, but it was always taken alone, and few of her friends knew of her morning expeditions. At 8 she break fasted, and afterwards dressed for her morning drive. j Her hours in town are almost as early, but her morning constitutional generally takes the form of a drive. She generally devotes her time between breakfast and luncheon to her extensive correspondence \ a.id to her charitable work, and her after- i noon to her friends. Her luncheon is gen- j orally a solitary meal, but company to din- I ncr is the rule. I At 4 she retires to her room and spends the time until 6:30 in making a toilet that could hardly be surpassed for splendor in any European court She is likely to ap- j pear in a satin of primrose hue. with float- ; ing webs of costly lace, and diamonds flash- j ing on her bare arms and neck, or an azure silk, trailing in beauty behind her, with pearls gleaming like white stars, for she maintains that youth is not the only age where exquisite color is needed; and as she is far from being a wrinkled old lady, her bright colors become her. For the street she dresses more somberly, but a quantity of fine lace, fastened by rare brooches of turquoise or emeralds, and a handsome Gainsborough hat. with drooping plumes, is always added, and lends a youth ful air to the lout ensemble. Mrs. Astor possesses the most costly dia monds in New York. Mrs. Martin and Mrs. W. K. Yauderbilt both have fine pearls: but it is said that Mrs. Hicks-Lord has the finest collection of rubies and emeralds in THE ST. PAUL DAILY GLOBS WICDXESDAT MOKNTSTG, tfOVEMBEK 1886*— TWHijV-ti FAtrJ__». this country, and a variety of costly jewels J of every descriptions. - Many sets were J , purchased to match certain costumes, and j each year additions are made to her jewel ; case that would be the envy of many a i queen. A diamond necklace which she wears now and then was set last spring In fine I ' gold at a cost of $.2,000 by a firm in this I : city. The necklace fits closely like a collar j ' and is designed in a series of brooches, each brooch consisting of a great solitaire dia j mond, surrounded by pear-shaped ones, purest water, placed on vertical beds of ! gold. The center brooch is two inches and \ a half wide, and the others are graduated in size to the clasp in the back, which is a j vertical bar of diamonds. The necklace is valued at $120,000 and is most unique in design. A set of rubies which were bought many years ago in Paris are unusually large and of exquisite color. There is a necklace containing forty-nine large stones and over ' two hundred small ones, three brooches, four stars for the hair and four bracelets. • It is worth $100,000. j The emeralds all measure from three- I quarters of an inch to a half inch in j width, and she has black and white and . pink pearls, sapphire and pearl sets, onyx, opals of rare beauty, which she never wears, and so many bracelets that she can completely cover both arms with them and yet have some left over. She is especially fond of bangles, and all her jewels would buy a good-sized Kingdom. Her household consists of ten servants and a pet dog and a bird. She intends to give many entertainments this winter, and the gonial hospitality which emanated from i the old Washington Square mansion during | the days of Gen. McCiellan will still be ex tended. Bits About the Fashions. Pompons of cut feathers are a favorite trimming. Hats of soft beaver have brim and crown of different colors. Jewelry of etched, oxidized silver and in Indian design is very fashionable. Blue felt hats, trimmed with red silk cord, are worn with red and blue costumes. Butterflies' wings, leaves, cornets and bat-shaped brims are made of cut jet beads, i Black velvet braces and deep cuffs are worn with dark green, gray blue and gray dresses. Melonshaped bonnets are novelties. They are made of folds of velvet with beads to outline the sections. Coquilies of jet are employed for crowns and trimmings. Some of these are made of outline cut beads. Black cock feathers are seen on some of the French bonnets. Loops of red velvet cover them nearly as far as the curves at the tips. "Spiderweb" jet trimming is made of fine net strung with tiny jet beads and veined with line bugles. It is shown in a : variety of designs. Handkerchiefs have delicately tinted j borders, with white embroidery. Hem , stitched handkerchiefs have the embroidery j in the middle. j Living Brazilian beetles attached to a pin ! and chain, so that they 'can wander about at will over corsage aud hair, are favored ornaments. i Cheapent Way to »t-o the acu-Serpeiii ; Philadelphia Call. De Bages— Bagley, Ponsonby and 1 are going down to the coast in a yacht. Will you join us? De Ka^gs — I'm afraid I can't make it convenient. Are you going after buried treasure? "No; we are looking after the sea-serpent and we are certain to see it." "What's the matter with buying a gallon of whisky and seeing the serpent up here?" You Can Bur A fine colt-skin shoe for gentlemen at Lov ering's great water sale for $4.50, formerly sold for 37. _» Babies are democratic luxuries of which the rich only get a fair share. — Fall River Advance. DICKINSON'S ni l ni. „| n 1 AQk dflf \_QUI Dll lUdi. dllU OldW Ucpi. YOUR GREAT AND ONLY THIS SEASON UU ficWIIMIHoIo TAILOR-MADE AND PERFECT-FITTING ! At Just Jaif Pries ! $5.00 ! $5.00 I $5.00! $500' x__^ ■ \*J? \JI n — Largest and Handsomest Line of Cloaks and Wraps _______ , Displayed in the Northwest. FOURTH, FIFTH AND ST. PETER STREETS. THE CAPTAIN'S WIDOW. New Orleans Times-Democrat. "He's dead!" Sally Norton made this dread announcement to the two old people who were sitting opposite to each other by the fireside. It was Sally's way to be plain ot speech, and it did not strike her that she might soften this cruel blow by a choice of words or the modulation of her voice. Her father raised his eyes to her homely face, so pale that every freckle stood out in bold relief; and then, as if he had con vinced himself that a great sorrow had fal len upon him. he broke silence: "Do you hear, Cimantliy? Jacob, our son, is dead. Sally, your mother don't seem to heed." The old , man rose from his seat, his stalwart frame trembling and tears rolling down his cheeks onto the grizzled beard, "Wife, wife," he repeated, "our son Jacob is dead." But she remained motionless, her tearless eyes had a hard glitter in their depths. Tiie wrinkled hands, knotted with great blue veins, were clasped ou her lap, and the lips were drawn tight!., together, as though some strong will-power bad sealed them fast lest they should utter words which had better not be said. The old man came to her and laid his hand upon her shoulder. "Cimantliy," he said, in a broken voice, "you've been a God fearing woman, masterful you always was and always will be, and it's that sperrit that's that's a-keeping of you now from giving iv to God's will. You always loved Jacob better than Sally or me. Pveknowed it all along. When he was a boy you set lii m up before everybody else, and as you let him have his way you had no right to moan and bewail when he went off. I always told you that there was no good in the boy, onc't he was let alone to fight his own way, and. sure enough, my words came true. You remember the first letter with the money in it, and then the others that kep' a coming, till we got enough to pay off Squire Meigs? Since Jacob come back with his wile and child I've seen that you was pondering over something. Ciman thy. but you was always smarter than me, ami 1 reckon what you're keeping to your self is safer with you. You Know I ain't much of a church-goer, and 1 can never light on the right chapter and verse, like Brother Stebbins. or fall on my knees and tell the Lord what I'd like Him to do. but 1 know this much: We've got to abide by His judgments, and the best way is to believe that He knows when to give and when to lake. Do you hear me, Cimantliy? I've talked to you the best way I know how. You aint turned to stone, woman, that you can't thank God for what you have left." Sally had put a light wood knot on the fire, which blazed up, throwing a ruddy glow on the homely furnishing of the room, and the. woman sat down, rocking herself to and fro as she looked at the old people, bearing so differently this cruel visitation. They had hardly recognized Jacob when lie came back, and were not quite able to associate this middle-aged man with the youth who had left them so many years ago. Now that he was lying up stairs dead they realized the appalling truth that Jacob had gone on another jour ney, from which he would never return. Neither message nor letter would come to tell the old couple that, although he had been undutiful, yet he kept for them in his inmost heart a great love and reverence, and that he held in mind the hard toil which it required to make a crop on the piney-woods farm, and therefore saved and denied himself in order to send them from time to time a loving remembrance; and just before last Christmas there had come a letter saying that he was bringing home his wife and child. "Cimantliy." cried the old man, now a little sternly, "the neighbors are a-coming and it ain't no use to get talked about." At this she raised her eyes quickly to his. "They'll do it anyhow, Steves. Neither you nor me can prevent it now." He gave her a searching look, but for some reason refrained from asking her what dreadful meaning was conveyed In this speech, the first that she had uttered ! since she was told that her son could ' not - live. After the fashion of country people, friends and neighbors were coming in, and the old man went out to greet them, iuvit* i ing them into the best room, where the chairs had been placed against the walls, leaving a space in the middle. Here the leaves of a folding mahogany table had been lifted and a sheet spread over them. Outside, the wind whistled through the bare branches of the China trees, aud the people in the room had drawn close around the fire, for it was a cold night. An old lady sitting next to Sally whispered: "It's lucky that i.'s turned so cold. He'll keep until they get the preacher from Tipton. How's she a-heariug up? 1 should say she's not likely to go to bed as some of 'em do." "She," answered Sally. "I never see a woman like her in all my born days. To look at her you'd think she was only fit to set in a rocker; but she's been on her feet day and night, and she don't take on as some of 'em do. She helped to lay out Jacob and then she locked herself in the spare bedroom." "I've heard." ventured the old lady, "that you and her don't get along so well." "No more than we don't, "snapped Sally. "I am plain Sally Norton, none of your cologned and calarocomed ladies. 'Taint no use with my freckled face, but I'll say this for her, she kept to herself and let the child run about pretty much as she pleased, and pa he's took to Lilian so as never was, but ma don't seem to spile her much." "The child ain't a bit like the Nortons." "About as much as I'm like a queen, aud as things is, it's so much the worse for her. Poor folks"— but the words died on her lips the sound of slowly descending foot steps could be heard; a deeD silence fol lowed the whispered conversation. They were bringing down the captain. His tall figure was stretched upon the table and covered with a snow-white sheet. Such was tne custom in the country in those days. Those who wished to look upon him turned back the sheet and saw the set features and the singular look of pain which had settled upon them. Perhaps it was his last earthly trouble which had fixed its impress upon his face. The women were dying of curiosity to see the widow, and one elderly person offered to go upstairs to keep her company, but a word from Sally deterred her, and she reseated herself with the consoling thought that Sally's rolls were of the light est, and on such au occasion the coffee would be of the strongest. About midnight ;t grew bitterly cold, and the watchers found it more cheerful before a roaring fire in the adjoining room than the one in which tha body lay. Into the silent chamber old Mr. Norton entered, holding the child in his arms. She was asleep, her curly head resting on the -old man's shoulder. lie seated himself close to the tire, so that the little one's feet might keep warm. Mean time Sally was with her mother, urging a request which the old woman at first obstin ately refused. "If she's got anything to say let her come to me." j "You owe it to Jacob, ma, to do what | she's asked you. For his sake come." Then she rose, and disdaining Sally's arm, entered the room with a firm step, closed the door between the death-chamber and her neighbors, who were sadly disap pointed that they should miss this moving spectacle, and sat down beside her son, rot uncovering his face to look at him. but al- : lowing her eyes to follow the ghastly out- | line of figure beneath the sheet. "Oh, mv ' son. my son." she moaned, "is this all that . is left to me in my old age?" : At that moment, silently and almost un noticed, the captain's wife joined the group and stood at the teet of her husband, plac ing one hand on the table as if to steady herself. Her race was perfectly colorless, her eyes circled with purple rings, and . her abundant golden hair pushed back from i her forehead. "I've asked you to meet me here," she said In a low, faltering voice, "because I wish to beg your forgiveness before I leave DICK-ISM'S Household i i ) Deparlment ! THE RENOWNED BISSELL CARPET SWEEPER, J "GLOBE," n .. in nn Dnl) IU. The Greatest DRIVE ' ever offered. Fourth. Fifth and St. Peter V" ' the house." Pausing. , she let her eyes rest for a moment upon Mrs. Norton. "You i are honest. God-fearing people, and such as 1 have no right here. I want to tell you how It happened, that you may have no hard thoughts of him.'' "Why don't you set down?" said Sally in a loud whispher. "Thanks; 1 will- stand until I've said what 1 have to say; it won't take roe long. Five years ago this man met me in a bail room where men were free of speech and women listened unblushingly to their words. I was young and pretty, and there for the first time; but 1 soon grew afraid of the rough company and refused to dance with some of the men. This gave offense, and 1 was in sulted. Jacob Norton stepped forward and announced that I was under his protection, though 1 had never seen him before. There were oaths aud pistol shots; but we man aged to leave the place unhurt. He and I never parted afterward until now." She paused a moment to over come her emotion, then continued: "He deceived you, his old parents, but he did it for the love of me. God knows why he should have wronged himself for such as I am. I never deserved it. 1 allowed him to marry me. as people get married in the wild parts, and theu after weeks of what he called happiness poor fellow, he knew little enough of — I remembered my baby." Mrs. Norton half rose from her chair as if she would put the audacious woman out of the room, but the old man said, "Cimanthy," in a tone to which she was unused, and she dropped into her seat with a groan. "Yes." continued the widow, "I had a baby girl at a miner's hut in charge of his wife. I never intended to go back for her. but the yearn ing came on me and I set off without let ting Jacob know where I had gone. It was night when I came back again, with the child in my arms. I looked through the window and saw the poor fellow sitting by the fire. Something in 'his. face told me that I needn't be afraid, so 1 went straight to him and said: 'Jacob, this is my baby.' He turned awfully white, aiul for a mo ment I thought' he was going to kili me, but he only said, in a voice I hardly would have known as his, 'Nellie, we must try to take care of her between us,' He took the child from me and 1 fell down at his feet and cried as I never cried in all my life before. He never went back on me or her. God knows he didn't, and he brought me here against my will. I never wanted to come. Oh. indeed I didn't! And now I'm going away with Lilian." "By G , you shan't leave this house while I have a peck of meal left," cried Mr. Norton, rising and placing his hand upon her arm. "Stephen Norton shan't be outdone by his own sou. Cimanthy Nor ton, this woman and this child belonged to our son Jacob. His great heart took 'em in. and mine's big enough to hold 'em too." The old mother stood looking at her dead son, and then sank down on her knees weeping aloud. . Sally had taken the child from her father's arms, and the poor homeless Nellie knew that she had found out now why Jacob had brought her home. They had taken her and Lillian as their own for his sake. ■ Woman's Wish. The Judge. Somebody says that all a woman wants is that somebody shall tell her what to do. Not quite all, we think. She would like to have— and she really ought to have— the somebody to do it for her. Dangerous. Norri3town Herald. ** Somebody has discovered that "a mule cannot bray if a brick be tied to his tall." lt is extremely doubtful if the man who un dertakes to make the combination can do much braying— breathing either— about ten minutes later. Mothers should always have on hand a bottle of Coe's Cough Balsam; children take it readily and it never fails to cure. Thirty-five cents per bottle at druggists. DICKINSON'S CRASHED! SMASHED! r ' ps i p i Fnrpinn fnnrpf linnPQ luibiyii uuiuicu uiuuco> ARRIVED! ARRIVED! ONLY 1,000 AT 1,000 AT '"> ■' /LXP Di l\l r I ii^ OurLarg^e Importation of these Goods has just arrival aud we will inaugu rate, for this coming week, the greatest sale ever heard of west of New I York. We have them in Exquisite Tints and Unique Designs, both j lor L___ap and Gas Qje. "Common Sense Sewing Lamp, I Crystal Bowl on low Bronze Pedestal, Only 48c. OUR HOUSEHOLD LAM?, Decorated China Base, fitted with either Illuminator or Regular Shade Trim ming. ? • J I Only 85c. , j GLOBES! The largest variety ever shown in the North- ' west, and at Prices Half the Cost of Impor- \ < tation. '■• / i st PETER. FOURTH . AND FIFTH STREETS. ! o j KKLIKIOIS IIX i:niio\. ! I'll* Sufferings of a Colored I. ad/ j Who Mioiiird at the Uig Baptism. Arkansaw Traveler. " # - "Mandy." said ii white woman, address ing a colored lady who had been employed to do the . cooking, "what do you mean? You went away at 10 o'clock and now it is 2, and we have not . had a bite of dinner. Where have you* been all this time?" "Ben down ter de baptism " "Didn't you know that you should have come back in time to gel dinner?" ; "Want thin-tin' 'bout no dinner. Think in'- erbout dem souls dat wuz snatched outen de jaws o' satan. Want no time ter stop au fool wid de pot, I'm er telliu' yer." "That's all very well, but we have to eat, and besides you were not ' hired to save souls. 1 will dock you for one day." "Look heah, you doan mean dat, lady?" "Yes, Ido." •'An' me been sabin' souls. Dock er pusson fur doiif de Lawd's work. ' W'y, 1 had ter stay dar ter shout when da soused 'em under. Want nobody dar dat could shout Ike me, an' now vet's gwine ter* dock me arter all dis?" "Weil. I don't believe I want you any longer. You needn't come back." ' Want's me ter quit, eh?" "Yes, that's just what I want." "An' jes' becase I he'pd ter sabe souls. Lady, yer oughter be ershamed o' yerse'f ter persecute 'liirioti in this way. W'y, how de work o' de Lawd gwine ter prosper when de white folks bucks ergin it dis way? I'se sorry fur yer, fur old satan got his eye on yer, sho'." »i . It Altered the Case. Detroit Free Press. "Made an arrest, did you?" inquired a citizen as he halted beside an officer on Howard street who was watching the pat rol wagon on its way up the street. "Yes, sir." "Serious charge?" "He was disturbing the peace." "Ah! good thing you took him in. There's altogether too many rowdies around. Did he bite your hand?" , "Yes,, sir." "You ought to have used your club on him in return. I have often asserted that you policemen don't defend yourselves as you should. If I was an officer and a ruf fian bit me I'd break his head for him. Did you learn his name?" "He gave it as James Blank." "No! Young man with a check suit and dark hat?" "Yes." "He is my son! __p you arrested him, did you? Officor,J®fll take your number, and if I don't get jfrn off the force within a mouth my name is mud! You police have taken altogether too many privileges to yourselves, and its high time some one came to the front and sat down on you. Arrested my son, eh? You prepare your self to hear something drop." (a. -slit Their mother. The Schumacher boys, of Conestogo, Canada, leaned their fishpoles against an apple tree in the garden with the lines dangling. As their mother was walking in the garden the wind blew one of the lines toward her, the hook caught in her nose, and she suffered for an hour before the doctor came and cut it out. AKO.\D__..l til VA..AK. O Vassar girl, who fain would rise Superior to Love's charmimr lies; You who prefer the themes that be Modeled on Kant's philosophy, Potential ballots in your eyes, And bridge of nose, judicial, wise, In fact, a very Bridge of Size And intellectuality, O Vassar girl I You're fair, yet from you Cupia flies With cramps, as though he'd dined on piesj For, suaviter in modo, he Finds you too fortlter in re; And so to lesser culture hies, O Vassar girl. — The Rambler. »_-__-__-_.._. mm in. ■■ i .ii. i_.un