Evening Star Newspaper, June 23, 1883, Page 7

BRIGHT FANCIES OF THE POETS. Do Women Ever Grow Old? ‘Written for Tux Evestxo Stan. ‘One evening last summer,while down at Cape May, A bachelor and spinster walked out on the pier; Bhe was dressed a-ia-fashion, and appeared very ay, While her escort seemed solemn,—in fact, quite severe. <At last, after talking of the ocean and weather, She remarked: “What makes you so cross and So cold? You were full of tun when we were children to- gether.” “Very true,” he replied, “but 1'm now growing ou” *Growing old! . Means,” She sald, with a laugh, as she toyed with her > fan; “Why, I feel as young as I dia in my "teens— But a woman don’t live half a3 fast a3 a man.” ‘Marta, you'r right; for, If you remember, We were each twenty-four the last time that we met; That was just twenty-one years ago, last Septem- ber, And I hear that you yeu” I really don’t kuow what that have not reached thirty, < —S. 7. B My Library, As one who pauses on atock, ‘The bastion of some sea-nymph’s And feels the ripples round him flock, Then cleaves the foam, Anil glides through cool peliuctd ways Where creepers kiss eath thrilling ‘tmb, And hears, or thinks he hears low lays Of Cherubim; Ant marvels at the wondrous scene, The ruins upon rutns buried, The moving hosts, tue darkling sheen ‘The awiui world; ‘Then rises, snatching first some gem, Some token of his sojourn there, And flinking a dewy dladem From face and hair, And In the sunlight, with the sigh Of sea-winds whistling In his ears, Views his found treasure, tll his eye Is dim with tears— So, where tn lordly sweeping bays, in distant dark reuring nooks, Stretches befor» my eager gaza, This sea of books, I pause, and draw one fervent breath, hen plunge, and =eem to pass away Into deep waters still as death, ‘Yet clear as d: To move by boulders of the Past, By caves where falter dim'y pure Girams of the Future—ali tne Vast Of Literuture; ‘Then to return to life abore, From regions where but few have trod, Bearing a gem of larger love ‘To man and God. —Blackwood’s Magazine, — The Prescription, ‘They were parting at the gato— Man-and m.ia— SUIL he tarried, although lata, Longing much ‘to hear his fate, Yet to ask ithalf afraid, “It I only knew,” said he— “Only kpew.” “Let me give ice,” sald she; “Maxe a confidant of me; Ican be of help to you” “Ah! I know that,” answered he, With a sig! “Now I guess it all!” erted she; “You're in love, I plainly see, And afrati to tell her. Fiet™ “You're a witch to guess so well,” Answered he. “I would like to have you tell How to make a sick heart well; Kindly now prescribe for me.” “Every heart will cure a heart,” ‘Low laughed she. “You must find another heart, ‘Then your own will lose Its smart. ‘Try this olden remedy.” “Let me have your heart,” he plead. “Nayt” sald she; “TI have none.” -*No heart!” he said; “Then I go uncomiorted. a broken heart must be.” “It 1s yours!” and she laughed low; “Don’t you see!” “T pregcrybed it lone ago. Seeing that you suftered so. What So blind as mea can be?” “Had I only known before,” Whispered he, “What a cure you had In store!” “You'd have suff-red all the more; ‘Men are foolish thing: ms" A Baby’s Death. ‘Whe little eyes that never knew Light other than of dawning skies, ‘What new life now lights up anew ‘The little eyes? ‘Who knows bat on their sleep may rise Such light as never heaven jet through ‘To lighten earth from Paradise? Xo storm, we know, may change the blue Wo tears, like these in ours, Lesew os jo @ these in ot ‘The tte eyes Angel by name love called htm, seeing 90 fair The sweet small srame; ‘Meet to be called, if ever man’s child were, Angel by name. ‘Bose-bright and warm from heaven's own heart be came, And might not bear ‘The cloud that covers earth's wan face with shame. she, Tis littte light of life was all too rare And soft s flame; Qeaven yearned for him’ ti angels hatled him there Angel by name. ae —Swindurne, q Like the sound of human On the silent roidatzut air, Or the tears of angels falling When they weep with those who weep, Or the tullaby of rs When they rock their babes to sleep, Like the drowsy wine of poppies With its welrd, enchanting power, Corning to the weary listener Like the d-w to drooping flower; Lke calm sleep to those who suffe Or like tears to those who mourn; Like remembered words of loved oncs From our aching torn. Strangely sweet, bewitching music, Ail enthralled my senses te, As I wateh the mystic Future With the shadowy Past go by, While a caim and holy quict Steals upon my heert and ‘Then f fall aslerp, still stening ‘Yo the murmur of the rain. So, mayhap, somotime hereafter I shall lay’ me down to rest, Overweary, anc shall listen For the music [ loved best: Whe, its gentle cadence falling Through the midnight sil a-e deep, Softly soothes my troubled spirit, ‘While it lalis me into sleep. When, at dest oy soul has fallen into Sweetest, glad repose, ‘Tit cn earth sunshine nor shadow No awaking ever knows— angels, Like the volce of waiting Or the vesper bells in toll, May the softly-falit Chant a requiem 10 my soul are ‘The mossy I cease fn Hi E H g i : fi BB Fi i id sid : i : i MEG’S ADVICE. It wasthe day after the party, and can any day be any more utterly wretched? { mean, of course, to the people whohave given the party— especially when, like my uncle and aunt, they are of quiet-going habits and moderate means, nd must let thelr guests dance in the dining- room and have supper in the biggest bed-room. It was the day ufter the party, and every indi- vidual in the house was miserable. The days before the party had not been remarkable for comfort, but they at least had been tinged with the radiance of hope and bright anticipation, while now nothing remained but “dregs and bitterness,” and to clear away and get the house into order again. This would have seemed rather a dreary task in any circumstances, [ dare say; but it was greatly aggravated by the fact that we were all in very low spirits, or to put It honestly, in dreadfully bad tempers, having each and all a special grievance of our own. My uncle's household consisted of himself and my aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Gilbee, their two sons, Christopher and Peter, their two daughters, Lottie and Sophy, and myself, Meg Merton, the orphan daughter of my aunt's only alster. My mother had died when I was elght years old,ant my father, whose habits were by no means of a domestic kind, sent me to school, and allowed me to spend all my holidays at my aunt’s; and, when he died and my schooldays were over, my temporary home became a anent one. This came to pass quite nati ly, and was taken as a matter of course by my kind-hearted cousins; and aunt Charlotte, who had always regarded me as one of her own children, never seemed to suppose that she was conferring any particular fayor upon me by giving me a hi py home among them all. But I appreciated it, and ep- deavored to prove my gratitude in every way possible. I was older than Lottie and Sophy and left school before they did, and I became very useful in the house. Aunt Charlotte was of a nervous, timid nature, and as I happened to be self-possessed and cool and decided she soon came to rely entirely on my judgment and energy. and in a year ortwo I was housekeeper- in-chief, and my advice was asked and pretty generally taken on matters both small and great —indeed. “Meg's advice” became proverbial in the household. Naturally I grew a little dic- tatorial, for I often wondered what they could have done without me. Chris was the only one I could not manage. “Bully the others as much as you like,” he would say, “but you shall never bully me; and somehow or other I never felt inclined to try. “Tiffs” occurred amongst us now and then; but, on the whole, we were a very happy family until the day after the party, when, as I have said, we were each and all miserable. My uncle was confined to his room with a bilious attack, where he lay groaning andanathematising “that champagne.” My aunt looked very haggard when she first came down in the morning, and said her head ached badly; and her appearance did not brighten as she and I investigated the state of the crockery, &¢. - “Ishall never givea party again,” she sald quietly, but it was the quietness of despair. ine champagne glasses broken, two sherries and three of the best china plates, anda great stain on the drawing-room carpet! We might have been entertaining a set of barbarians!” Christopher and Peter, usually the most affec- tionate of brothers, were not now on speaking terms with each other, as my aunt and I discov- ered at breakfast-time; and instead of going to business together, Peter Ifngered until Chris had gone, and then started about five minutes afterwards. This unfriendliness arose, as I well knew, because of a stylish disagreeable London belle, whom some friends of ours had brought with them to the party, and who had flirted des- perately, but with maddening Impartiality, with both my deludedcousins. Hence their coldness towardeach other this morning. As for Lottie and Sophy, I wished, before the day was out, that they were not on speaking terms, for they were nagging at each other all the time, and finished just before dinner with a down-right spiteful quarrel; and aunt Charlotte cried. Their grievance was about two brothers, Tom and Harry Nowill; for Lottie liked Harry best, and Sophy liked Tom; and with the usuai contrariness of mankind, Harry was desper- ately In love with Sophy and Tom with Lottie so it was usual, er every merry-mak- ing we might have for Lottie and. Sophy to-fall out about them. I felt vexed with everybody; but I think 1 was quite justified in beingso, for they would all persist in believing—or saving that they believed—that I wasin love with ridio- ulous John Howarth, just because he happened {o be In love with me, and took care that every one should know he was, too! I did think some of them at least might have had more sense. And now this fine London belle had appeared on the scene—oh, I feit tempted to break another best china plate and all the remaining sherry glasses as I thought about it! And. if aunt had only known the state of mind I was in, she would never have trusted me to wash them up and pat them away. Even our Newfoundland dog seemed to share the general dissatisfaction, and kept coming from his kennel as far as his chain would [soles and uttering long and dis- mal howls. e cook said that it was the sign of a death; but the housemaid persisted that it foretold a wedding. I did not feel as if I cared much which it was or what happened—only I Le! I felt beeererrrets for aiding on than a wedding, especially if the wi entailed a breakfast and—another party. My aunt and I had been up as early as usual this Syepee ps had too much to do to be able to lie in Chris and Peter of course wanted their breakfast at the usual hour, and their Inn- cheons—which they always took with them and ate in alittle back-room at the ofice—put up; and then, when they had started for business, wecommenced our dismal investigationsthrough the house. We always dined at 6 o'clock, and it was nearly that hour before*we had succeeded in reducing the house to anything like order. Then Lottie and Sophy had their quarrel, in the midst of which Chris and Peter arrived, and we went to dinner. Chris folded his arms and put on a dogged and determined look as he took his place at the table. “I breakfasted off cold fowl,” he sald gloom- bs iS Tunched off cold fowl—I refuse to dine off it.” My aunt grew tearful again. “This is not cold fowl,” she answered, “it is turkey, and you might eat it. Cold beef will keep a day or two—fowlsand turkeys with sauce over them, willnot. But”—turning to me re- signedly—“ring for the beef to be brought in, Meg, we have had enough unpleasantness for one day. “How Is it there is a whole turkey left?” in- quired Chris, somewhat mollified as the ap} “It was Meg's fault,” replied Aunt Charlotte. “She put it on that dark shelt behind the cellar door, and I found tt there this morning quite forgotten. But I wonder, Meg, you did not Rotice that there were only two turkeys at sup- pers this would have been eaten if it had been re.” “*T did not have any suy ” 1 sald, “for I thouzht there would not borcom,? ~* That is merely an e: ” int Lot- Poot “you bare ‘ing . John Howarth in conservatory all su; ime." T meant to look detlant, but I mmay have looked = idhe propose to you?” asked Sophy, staring “Oh, Chris,” interrupted Lottie, “how could — my ss —_ & savage way? Come “You should tead “What—not even when Meg marries John Howarth ?” sneered Chris. “No, not even then,” replied aunt, redoub-' ing her sobs. “Well, don’t ery, auntie,” I i aed. “for 1 am not going to marry him. gave avery decided ‘No,’" Chris here gave a k covert in my direction: after wi is assum) a of perfect indifference seemed to me a trifle overacted. “Oh,” laughed Lottie, ‘that explains — the wr fellow ate trifle instead of fowl his Bottea ham, and never found out the difference! I thought what a curious taste he had.” But aunt refused to be pacified; she had reached that state bf eet troubles are itively preferred 28. Pesan *No’to Mr. + olde oe buy i new drawing-room carpet,” she said, “ up: the tarts and custards and cakes. I am sure”— warming to her subject—‘‘the waste has been shameful! When the confectioner’s man came this morning I had not single cake or Jelly or blanc-mange to send back, for one had been peerinpeiers I saw you, ca eke Just a spoot out that expensive porcapine, when a plainer cake, already commenced, was by you.”- “Ob, don’t blame Chris for that auntie!” I exclaimed. “It was done for Miss Jones, no doubt. If he had the power Chris would cut a Aedes the Koh-i-Noor itselt it she had asked “I would,” said Chris; ‘she ts worth a hun- dred Koh--Noors.” eric lata Lae ee aroused at _ om the gloomy lethargy ad possessed him dinner time, and addressing Chris. ‘What a pity she does not regard you in the same light! She told me last night how she hated dancing with you, saying that you were so clamsy you were constantly getting your feet on her dress.” “Indeed,” retorted Chris. ‘She told me the very same thing about you.” ° “1 don’t believe it,” eaid Peter. : 2 “Do you mean to say Lam telling lies?” de- mt Ae eran cried it. “Oh, “Another Pr” my _ount , dear, dear, what will be the end of it all?” “rhe end of it all might be pleasant enough,” replied with energy, “if only every one of you would display a little common-sense. I am out of patience with you all!” “Well, Meg,” said Lottie calmly, “you gener- ally seem to consider yourself capable of set- ting the world to rights;4o can you set our little world straight. It seems to me we are all mis- pe What can you suggest to make us apy?” “Common-sense,” I ated—“only com- ™mon-sense. Take my advice, and peace will be restored at once.” ee us have it then,” said my aunt querul- ously. “Ob, let us have ‘Meg’s advice’ at once!” sneered Chris again. “How is it we have not thought of this panacea earlier?” “I will commence with my uncle,” I began firmly. *‘Let him—at least, make him—see the doctor to-night and he will be better before morning.” “That is good advice enough,” said aunt, “and I will tell him.” “‘As for you. aunt—co to bed at once and for- get your worries. _ We will start a subscription list for you, which I will head with five shtl- lings; and if the others give with equal liberality Boooralag to their means, you will be able to re- place all the broken crockery and have the white hearthrug cleaned also.” “That ls good advice too, andI will do m part by going to bed immediately,” sald aunt, meekly, ‘Tam much obliged to you, Meg.” “As for you, Peter,” I continued severely, “I think, instead of i ethetrs with Chris about Miss Jones, you had better turn your attention nearer home. I know r little Kittie Rey- nolds would nearly cry her eyes out when she got home last night, or rather this morning.” “You know more than I do then,” returned es, I do; for I gm in Kitty’s confidence, and you are not; I know what Kitty sald to me when she was guing home, and you do not. And my advice to you, Peter, is, make it up with Kitty, and leave Miss Jones for those who want her. “Capital advice. But I never asked you for it, you see; so I don’t consider myself bound to take it;” and he Went on eating tarts. ~ “And now girls,” I continued, looking at Lot- tie and Sophy, ‘make up your minds to the in- evitable, and change lovers. They are twins, and so much alike that you cannot always tel which Is which; and I think it must be merely contrariness in'you two to pretend you like either one better than the other; and”—with Just a careless glance at Chris—‘contrariness never pays in the end. So take my advice, transfer your affections quietly, and say no more about it.” Then 1 helped myself to some blanc-mange, and went on eating my dinner. “But you have forgotten me,” observed Chris; “pray have you no advice for me?” I hesitated a moment, then looked at him de- flantly. “Well,” I sald, “I think the advice I have given Peter might also apply to you; instead of making yourself ridiculous about Miss Jones, I think you might find some one to admire nearer home,” Then, owing to Peter’s delighted “Bravo, Meg!” and Chris’ steady stare, I had a sensation that Thad never experienced in all my self-pos- sessed life before—I think it was embarrass- ment—and I rose hastily from the table and left the room, jumably to see “why that dog howled so.” And Chris must have felt curious on the point, too, for he also left the table and followed me to Nero's kennel. When we came in again Peter was standing in the hall with his top coat on, brushing his hat very carefully. . “Why, Peter,” I exclaimed, ‘where are you going? I should have thought you woald have been more inclined for bea than a walk. Where are you going?” Peter looked at us with a curious mixture of defiance and sheepishness in his expression. “7 am going to see Frank Reynolds,” he said. “He told me last night that he has a little ter-. rier he thinks I shall like, and he said he would Jet me have it cheap; so I am going to look at it.” “ But,” remarked Chris pitilessly, ‘ yeu know that Frank has gone away trom home to-day, and won't be back until Monday. and your jour- ney will be utterly fruitless, will it not, if you find only Kitty in?” “I shall see the terrier,” muttered Peter, put- ting on his hat, “and shall leave word whether I will have him or not.” “ Oh, Ihave no doubt it will be all right,” I remarked, with an innocent air. eter looked at me, and then sal What was the matter with Nero?” “Oh—his chain—I think—his collar!” I stam- mered, taken aback by the suddenness of his beef quetos, and ending by an appealing glance at 8. “Never mind, never mind!” cried Peter, wav- ing his hands. '-‘As yuu sald, Meg, I have no doubt it will be all rizht; it’s’ leap’ year, you know, and Chria has only acted as any other man. "Here Peter darted through the “Your uncle has Just seen the doctor,” sho sald, smiling a littleas she me before ; and, if any of the others act upon ‘are all ready for bed to-night.” ‘I shall have to sit up for Peter,” said Chris. “One of the servants can do that,” sald aunt. oN oz are at tired out,” answered Chris; “and t like to sit up, to see poor Peter's bewilderment when I ask him what is the color of the terrier.” FASHION: WRINKLES. cr ODDS AXD ENDS OF FASHION KOTES—BONNET ALL shades of gray are In high favor. ‘Tap pelisse Is all the rage for children. Peakep brimmed bonnets grow in favor. GoLp-coLorep stockings are in high favor. Suor sliks and eatins will be worn in the fall. Sates wit be Oe dress fabric next Pleated brim and-vap-ctown bonnets are much ‘worn. Tux short, glace kid glove is about the thing of the past. Lowe wristed tan-colored and buff gloves are ail the rage. Hats with eccentric brims are worn to a lim!- ted extent. Conriamation dresses, to be in good taste, must be very plain. FRENou gray and Egyptian red combine well in costumes. Lace Is the correct trimming for all one-fabric thin dresses, Hats are worn far back on the head, bonnets tp-tilted forward. THE new plaided zephyrs make jaunty tennis costumes. FLowersare extravagantly used on dressy bonnets and hats of every descalption. Burano lace cloth is very fashionable in France and England. CuILpren’s Mustim Cars have wide brims or borders of embroidery. Warstooats for ladies are revived, and worn under cutaway jackets. Dresses all of one fabric are more in favor than combination costumes. MEpIvM-Sizep Hars or bonnets are more worn than very large or very small ones. Sxirrs trimmed with lace, put on in half- moon shapes, will be very tashionable. AN Inside waist of the same shade should al- ways te worn under every Jersey. A New Liama lace of very fine quality is coming into use for black lace bonnets. Movsquetame gloves have been improved by a of elastics on the inner side of the Mostrv bonnets with cap crowns and pleated eee brims appear among other millinery novel- ties. AFTER ALL, white or cream-tinted flannel serge makes the prettiest and most suitable seaside suit. QUAINTNESs, something unexpected and original, is the alm of the modiste and milliner this season. THE now Suede gloves, with elastic wrists, take the names of gants Tannes, the Bourse and the Coppelia glove. Bonnets with peaked brims usnally haye a bow or bunch of flowers placed within the brim directly over the forehead. Cargsand mantélets of lace, chenille and head nettings are worn on dressy occasions, even when the weather fs very hot. Ir 18. fancy with French dressmakers to cut the bottom of the skirt Into turret blocks, and under these to place a pleated rutile. Tag small colored batiste pocket-handker- chief, trimmed witti lace and worn in the front of the bodice, is aptetty English fashion. A New Lonpow bonnet 1s called the Jumbo. The crown is of gold braid, plaited on gold cord, and the brim is a thick, soft pleating of cream- colored velvet. ‘ Tae frames of fine fans ate of tortoise shell, mother of pearl, black carved or brown polished wood, sometimes varnished and ornamented with small pictures. A Suaaesrion ot ,allver-throughout an entire black costume gives begntifal and uncommon effect to this somber dress. This combination is charming in “half” mourning. THE economical willbe gladto learn that silks will be cheaper than ever inthe fall, a thousands of pieces of last year’s silks have lately been purchased at Lyons at cost prices. Harper's Bazar says that independent young ~ women select some simple style that is becom- ing to them, and have all their dresses, of both rich and plain tabrics, made by one pattern. Wine sash ribbons in gold and white or silver and white are in high fashion for evening wear. Quite often a length of it is used also for a waistcoat to be set inside the cutaway bodice of plain silk. A Prerrr foreign fashion for small giris is to dress them in pelisses of red Surah or Turkey twill, entirely covering thelr white dresses, With these they wear large wide-brimmed hats and little red socks, not stockings. Ong oF THe Newest neck arrangements is a plaiting of lace sewn down one side of a narrow band’ reaching from throat to bust, with a snc- cession of loops of ‘‘baby” satin ribbon or rows of velvet down the other, forming a heading. Tue preferred trimmings of white, rough straw English walking hats is two entire birds— pigeons, ring doves, or paroquets. These birds are placed on the left side of the hat, fastening down a scarf of crepe de chine or velvet, which surrounds the crown. Larce white Leghorn hats are trimmed around the crown with white ostrich plumes, ora boquet of red and white roses tied in with Sprays of white lilac. Within the brims are placed, near the ede, a gold wire; within this wire gold lace in the torchon designs is put on, and further back. next the face, pleatings of. white lace or a puff of white mull or white net. One OF THE PRETTIEST novelties in evening costume is the basket of flowers attached to the dress. It may hang from the waist by a chain of leaves or flowers, or be fastened to the back drapery and appear to rest against it. It may be filled with closely compacted flowers, or with trailing plants that hang over and mingle with the gauzy folds of the tissu: Tue Pretry shoulder cape for summer use, tobe made of goods matching the dress, just covers the shoulders. comes down in front to the belt, and from thence the sash ends are car- ried to the back and tied or simply crossed and fastened with a knot of ribbons ora pin. Both cape and sash ends are edged with a ruffie of Oriental lace. which launders the best of all the fancy laces except torchon. TEN YEARS OLD. Something Younger but More Power- fal than Music Brief but Brilliant Record. ‘Ten years have rolled away since BENSON'S OAP- CINE POROUS PLASTEES came into the market, and ‘that time has been = decade of triumph for this, the Dest remedy of its class over produced. ‘There were Dorous plasters befere this one, but nons now offered to the public oan dispute its pre-eminent claims and its demonstrated success. Before the Capoine most of the rival preparations of other manufacturers and medical and chemical empirics are gradually but surely losing Lottie | their hold upon popular patronage and confidence, ‘To-day the Oapeine fs the universal favorite, and bas ‘won its proud position solely by its merits. Perhaps ‘almost the only thing iipon which the Allopathic, Ho- manpathio and Eclectie sehools of medicine agree is that BENSON'S GAPCINE POROUS. PLASTER realy ‘Goes what is affirmed ofitby the propristors. “For the mother know,” ings De. Oliver Wendell Holmes in ‘bis exquisite poem, **The Opening of the Piano,” “For the mother knew that music ‘Was an ever-soversign balm; Sho had apeinkled it over sorrow, And aeen its brow grow calm.” f So thousands of people on either side of the Atlantic eonld chant, if they chosey6f this physical restorer. ‘They have placed it upon the spots where reging pain | ‘existed and within an hour fyllen into peaceful stem. |. - & QUEEN OF THE sTAaceE. “Her Second Leve” and the Important Secret She Beveals for the Benefit of Women. audience. ‘The man of news found the lady home in this city and was accorded a quit **A re you confidant your health will permit such an undertaking?” A ringing laugh wasthe first reply to this question, after which she said: “Certainly. Itis true I have been ill for the past two years, but now Iam wholly recovered. Few people can have any idea of the strain = oonecientious actress un- dergoes in essaying an emotional part. It is necessary to putone's whole soul into the work in order to rightly portray the character. ‘This necessitates an utteraban- donreent of one's personality and an sesumption of the character portrayed. If this is an emotional part ft is neosssary to feel the same emotions the part issuppoeed to fre, For more than a year Iactually cried each night in certain passages of « part I was playing. The audience considered it art, Probably it was, but those were none the less real tears, and the effect was none the less trying upon my health.” “*Bnt do you anticipate avoiding this in the future?” Not in the least. Texpect to have just as sreat a strain as before but with reatored health, and « know- ledze of how to retain it I do not fear.” **You speak of a ‘knowledge of how to retain health.” ‘Will you please explain what you mean by that!" ** You must be aware that women by their very na- tures are subject to troubles and afflictions unknown to the wteraer sex. The name of these troubles ts legion, butin whatever form they may come they are weak- nesses which interfere with every ambition an‘ hope in life. I believe thousands of noble women are to-day suffering agonies of which even their best friends and relatives know Httle or nothing, avd when I reflect upon it I confess it makes me sad. Now all this misery arises largely from an ignorance of the laws of life or a neglect to carefully observe them. I speak from the depths of a bitter experience in saying this, and 1am tnenkful I know the means of restoration and how to remain in perfect health.” **Plesge explatn more fally.” ** Well, I have found a remedy which seems specially adapted for this very purpose. It is pure and palatable, ‘and controls the health and life as, I believe, nothing cleo will. It is really invaluable, and ir all the women 4n America were to use it I am quite sure most of the suffering and many deaths mizht be avoided." ** What is this wonderful remedy?” “* Warner's Safe Cure.” nd you use it?” . ‘And hence believe you will be able togo through the coming season successfully?” “+I am quite certain of it.” *‘A few questions more, Miss Granger. Will you Please give me a list of the parts you have created and the plays you have taken part in since your first ap- pearance in public?” “I first played for sometime with the amateurs in New York and Brooklyn. I then went to the Union Square Theater for two seasons, after that to the Bos- ton Globe for one season, and then to Booth's Theater in this city. Next I supported John McCullough and afterwards ‘starred in Juliet, Camille, Rosalind, ote. Subsequently I crested the part of Cicely Biaino in the Galley Slave, and alsostarred in Two Nights in Kome, playing the part of Antonia, ‘The past yearI have been playing in the Planter's Wife, and the coming sea- son, a8 I have said, will be devoted to Her Second Love.” As the writer was returning home he fell intoa train of musing, and wondered if all the women in this land ‘who are suffering could only know Miss Granger's ex- Perience and the remarkable results achieved by the ure remedy she used, how much suffering might be ‘avoided and how much happiness secured. DRE. CHEEVER'S ELECTEIC BELT, or Regenera- tor, is made expressly for the cure of derangements of the ‘Whenever any debility of the to, Weakness from Ini Incapacity, Lack of Vigor, Sterility—in fact, any trouble of these organs is cured. Do not confound this with electric belts adver- tised to cure all ills from head totoe. Thisis for the ONE specified purpose, For circulars giving full information addrese— CHEEVER ELECTRIC BELT Co., mb3-skw 103 Washington street, Chicago. G RIMAULT & MATICO LIQUID. DR. TOWNSEND'S REMEDY FoR HAY FEVER, ASTHMA AND CATAREH: Brooxtrm, N. ¥, 1681. “Tbeliove it will be sure in ninety come ine a Brooxrrm, N. ¥.. Oct. 1%, 188%. thas served. Fon sale yi "ait Penmaytva- nia avenue, D.C, and by eS Eres cocoa BREAKFAST. GRATEFUL—COMFORTING overs thoopersiions Bare ‘The Capffne does thie, of course, by means of no epell, | 1 ‘such as leads the superstitions to consult practitioners Of the black art, but byw 'union in its composition of | ‘the most vigorous and eMfislent medial agents ever dis Slaven Eu tae At TES OC a Sore etme OFFELS TEAS. FLOG! POLE SY aoe wa ER of nial found tn firet- THOMAS DOWLING, ancucaser. caTALoaus or RARE OLD ENGLISH BOOKS, vente, MONDAY, JUNE TWENTY-FIFTH. 1888, e the foll SALE ‘ORY FRAME ard SE deuGykD vhow Lore ON sO PHP OCOS SPENT] TET Beng Cy 2-story frame houses on K street, just west of oe and two 2-story frame ‘Terms or cent. ‘Houses Yo be removed from the ehaaae Tei }. J. FISHER & CO., Aucts. ALTER B. WILLIAMS & CO., Auctioneers, SUITE, UPHOLATERED IN Ath ee PLU<H B. ALNU’ CI Ci AND HU-K MATTE SES, BOD :USSELS CARPETS. BOD) BRUSSELS BALL AND STAIR CARPETS 1 HROUGHOU' LOUSE INGRAL CHINA, GLASS AND CROCKERY WARE, Ero. On THURSDAY, JUNE TWENTY-FIGHTH, com- mencing at TEN O'CLOCK A. M., we shall acl, at regi dence 4 1306 Connecticut avenue northwest, above enliection of superior Household Furniture, most Of which wes inade to order. Parties wishing Qrat-clage Furniture will find it to to at REE WALTER B. WILLIAMS & CO., Aucta. ro WHom IT May CONCERN. Packages, ‘Sereen, Petng bagwaxelett at Tremont Hous, and iot called oe, ‘All parties concerned will please take notice, aimee MARY, HILL, Bear HE of extate of Esp Es Ea rcs, Aucty. HOMAS DOWLING, Auctioneer. VERY VALUABLE UNINPROVED PROPERTY FUONIING OS MARYLAND | A AND NUS. Whew POURRA TH aT jab, On THURSDAY AFTERNOON, JUNE TWE TY-EIGH TH, 1883, at SIX O'CLOCK, on ses, I shall sell ‘Lot 2, in equare 106, having. Maryland avenue, between 14th and 15th streets northeast, containing 10,553 equure fest of round, more or less. er cing couveyan : coat, “$100 deponit required at fue of sale. | Jeav-dedn HOUSEFURNISHINGS. Rarnoraaross HAVE 4 REPUTATION OF AKD ARE ACKNOWLEDGED EVERTWHERR THE BEST FOR FAMILY USE. For sale by ML W. SEVERIDOR No. 1000 PENNSYLVANLA AVENUB. Sole Agent for the District. Dasrorres FE LoD, at Cee ee @bEFRIGERATORS and WATER COOLERS ai se W. & JENRS & CO. ‘327 Tth etrest nortawem, EFRIGERATORS (MPROVED MAKE). ICE CHF! sizea), Aik Cooks be and STANDS. REEZEKS, SLttine MACHER Es, an a 021314 Tth street, 5 doors above Penna. sventa, SEWING MACHINES, &c. MOST COMPLETE SEWING T ee yh ks Mile always wand ATTA EWING er eave on P; and NEEDLES for En ny ‘Sods complete stock of ine 8 Ee tec ea oer eeee a Piste in the ety, having faciaties for wal ated eee machine ever ‘to at Touupty attended vr pelidbe Sewine toe the finest spenriment, mi Shines for rent,” All kinds wepeired and Wdustrated nd price-list mailed wail SACRE A Donble Store, corner 7th and. Gent's Furnishings and Hain next door. ____ SAFE DEPOSIT CO. secu s S BY BURGLARY, ROBBERY, FIRE OK ACCIDENT. THE NATIONAL SAFE DEPOSIT COMPANT, of Washiugion, In its own building, Conxen 1S Sreeer axp New Youe Ave. Perpetoal Charter Act of Congress Jan 1867, ata ; i any, nents afva, ine tie Biss and Bunyan atm in scrordiny (0 aise and iocation: ontue. and Boake ad doming Vauita, provided tor Safe-reutars. VAULT DOORS GUARDED BY THE SARGENT ‘TDME-LOCK. a Proot Va: SECURITIES AND VALUABLES of Emaar eee argeee Sopa gee SPECIAL GUAKANTLE, at the Lowest kates, BENJAMIN P. SNYDER, President. CHARLES ¢, GLOVER-ct Rice € Co., Vice President, AUBEMG fp SUUATEVENE, secretary. ."E. Nyman, Asst. Seoy. Sens G. Parke. PROFESSIONAL. ALTER B. WILLIAMS & CO., Auctionoors. —~ Ww aan GOCD-WILL, BAR AND BAR T FIX1 URES, GLA‘S8 AND (OLD FURNIL AT AUCTION, On TUESDAY, JUNE TWENTY-SIXTH. at TEN O'CLOCK A. M., we shall seli, at the well-kuown and long-established ‘restaurant of A.B. Conpes, retiring ‘rom. th street and Mas- sachusetts avenue north’ ted in if not = part, +d IOMAS DOWLING, Aucuoneer. TRUSTEE'S SALE OF VAI PROPERTY ON F EE’ ‘KENTH AND TWI EST. PONCANSON BROS. Auctioneers, TRUSTEP'S SALE OF BRICK HOUSE AND LOT ON Sr STKEET, BETWEEN G@ AND H STREETS NORTHWEST. By virtue of a deed of trust reoorded in Liber, No. 829. folio 468, one of the land records for Dis- trict of Columba, 1 will sell om WEDNESDA THE TWENTY-SE’ 1883, at SIX O'CLOCK P. the following piece or lying in the city of Wes \d known as the rou! w ees tothe 3 uence in one and two ‘cent ‘and to be wo- on to cary deponit ct 100 required stsale. Terns IOMAS DOWLING, Auctioneer. CHANCERY SALE OF THE VALUABLE SES ONO. 416 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE © AND ALSO OF THE LARGE UN- IMPROVED LUT AT THE SOUTHEAST COR- NER OF DELAWARE AVENUE AND D STRKET NORTHEAST, THE CITY OF ‘WABHIN« D.C iGTON, ‘Under and of a decree of the eas i A No. offer for eee H 3 ef a i F f I i aul i f f ry ati Eat ASY FEET, ko —KHLIEF METHOUT PAIN, 1 Willard’s Hotel. “ae werted Nat Van cenCes a all complaints of the feel evo- d. ‘Iwenty-two practic D. ©, Office Porige acim, Or Ofc fom 6 Fan at KK. L. BOVEE, MEDIC: RICIAN, sri, Chil Paraiynn Nervour Discansn Ss. ark Russian, Bulphur and all’ Medicated given. {417 G atreet, oppor wonite Migs House. i a a ee oe arth west. Telephonio SPECIALTIES [ME. BROOKE TELLS ALL THE EV: oF All Dah etrects nortmwom del RTIFICIAL TEETH MADE ey ie ea after natural Aste extracting 7 yh ep TasIy" ODE DONNATLT 1501 ¥ street northwest, JE, RANDALL PARSONS, Dexrien, ‘th strect northwest, over Ballantyne's Book Dee Allings © specialty. “Gas «given day. o night. .. M. TALBOTT, DENTIST, No. 437 oe ee Besiuatry all its branches. ‘Teeth inserted $7 porsot. All =e ranted. dani New Discovery Tx Menicre. IMPORTANT NOTICE. BSANTAL MIDY organs in cithe GRIMAULT & CO.,8, Rue Vivienne, Paris, Ja22-whkaly Ts PUBLIC IS REQUESTED CAREFULLY nti the new and enlarged Scheme to be drawn SV-CAPITAL PRIZE $75,000.39 TICKETS ONLY $5. SHARES IN PRUPORTION. LOUISIANA STATE LOTTERY COMPANY. ete hertan corti ‘agente gf ak pod cal freetigs Hibs a i fF {