Evening Star Newspaper, June 29, 1889, Page 10

THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, D.C, SATURDAY. JUNE 29. 1889 Written for Tar Evestxe Stax. PALATIAL STABLES. New York Millionaires who Spend For- tunes on Their Horses. ‘THE HOME OF MAUD 8. AND RARUS—COL. LAW- RENCE KIP'S STABLES—POLISHED FLOORS, BRASS-MOUNTED TOOLS AND COSTLY RUGS—HOW ARISTOCRATIC THOROUGHBREDS ARE CARED FOR. ‘ ‘The horses that constitute the upper hippic ¢ircles of New York are beyond all odds the most fortunate class of the population. They are so beantiful in body that they can afford to dispense with the souls that some churtish people would deny them. They are so superbly lodged and carefully tended here below that they might well be content with the present. They are the friends and com- panions of gentlemen and show the results of association. They have a staff of servants for their use alone. Their only work is that which they must delight in doing, and no deli- | eate, care lly cherished woman is 60 watched r-exert herself, The only creatures proach their state of luxurious content | are the dogs, bat unlike these they are not the subjects of ingividual eaprice. There are bat | two flies in ‘ueir honey pote. They cannot talk, and are not allowed to eat all they want. To k of the stables in which these horses live scems inappropriate. The word is inade- quate and misleading. Here it must be under- stood to mean city mansions fitted up in hard | woods, containing suites of rooms furnished as | the needs of a high-bred aristocratic horse re- quire, the appointments having the last touch of elegance and with every consideration for light, heat, ventilation, and drainage carefully regarded, THE STABLES OF MR. PRANK WORK have already the reputation for being the most perfect of their kind, as has Mr. Work for be- ing one of the oldest and most accomplished drivers ‘on the road.” Without. the building is imposing in ite size,ané from its round-arched, rock-faced entrance conceive within a large inclosure, oak lined and brass bound, with a richly mode frieze and lanterus of beveled glass and oxydized silver swinging from glit- tering chains. A heavy hemp carpet gives no echo of a foot fall. Within handsomely mounted glass cases and on curiously shaped brass frames hang the silver mounted and pol- i In velvet-lined enclosures screened by glass are the glittering bits, All the appointments are brass mounted, even the and hay forks that make an ornamental ful panel all to th the home of “E a” and “Dick ,"one of the four great trotting teams that the world has seen, It is proper to ap- proach with respect the first horses who broke 0, and have since set up for ves, 2:16 Edward end Swiveller oc- cupy rooms in line and beneath a pillared ‘cor- ridor surmounted by a dome of glass. i sare paneled in quartered oak, above nh is an iron balustrade with acanthus hed columns. The brass-lined feed if so vulgar aterm may be pardoned, 18s hinges, bolts and chains are polished last degree of brilliancy. Mr. Harding, s the architect of these stables, attracts m from these esthetic surroundings to that an engine stationed under the k draws down tho foul air and supplies fresh air into these chambers in the winter, and in summer does contrarywise, so that the stables, as we read of them in English novels, are not in evidence at all. As Mr. Work is there making ready for his afternoon drive, he acts the host and we are taken up the onk-lined stairway to his suite of apartments on the next floor. It consists of three rooms—sitting-room. dining-room, and bed-room. Connecting at one side is the marbie-lined bath-room; on the other is a butler’s pantry equipped with an air of prompt- ness in silver and china and a little dumb- waiter in communication with the kitchen under the roof. The wainscoting of dark rich wood, and the subdued light through the hang- ings add to the luxurious impression made by the furniture and carpets. ‘Truly one may be very comfortab! At the sound of a silver whistle a beautiful cocker spaniel bounds in followed. b; demure white cat with the marks of « tortoise-shell ancestry staining her sides. These are the other occupants of the apartment, and of this happy family more at auother time. ‘MASTER AND HORSE. Nothing is more beautiful about Mr. Work’s stable than the friendship between the master and his creatures, on whom he has lavished so much lax: The groom has taken off “Ed- ward's” bridle and blanket, and before his master approaches he comes confidingly for- ward to be care: It is impossible to resist such friendly advances, “Swiveller” is more indifferent and submits as one of those who turn the cheek. Evidently “Edward” is Mr. Work’s favorite. In answer to a demand for a kiss he lifts up hia velvety nose and the two rub noses together, while Mr. Work calls at- tenticn to the soft beauty of his eyes. _ This team cost $61,000. and are priceless, since money could not bay them. Should their master drive them no more they will never be driven again, but spend their days im luxurious ease on the prey net farm. But there are other horses here. “Oswego is a dappled gray that cost $7,000 and has a record of 2:245{. His mate is “Billy Frier.” a bay who has made But the beauty of the stable is “Noina,” who comes from Gov. Stanford's Palo Alto farm in California. She is a dark bay, whose coat with lustrous high lights and deep shad- ows is the most ideal thing in horse covering that can be conceived. She is a young thing, but four years old, but has made 27 in the ab. breviation of the stables. Five stablemen take care of these horses. Attached tothe stable and running its length isan enclosed place, lighted by a sky-lizht and here the horses take their constitutionals @@ bad days. STADLE OF MR. ROBERT BONNER ple-like, vine-wreathed structure of Mr. Bonner is so prominent a mem- s home of the three most celebrated American trotters, Dexter, Rarus and Maud 8, is half screened by a high board fence, for aronnd the house is the track on which the horses are exercised, otherwise a crowd as Yaithful as that which waits on Mra. Langtry’s carriage would attend the appearance of Maud 8 and Rarus taking their exercise. Mr. Bon- Ber's stable was built sixteen years ago, and, While it b ¥thing for comfort, has none of the elegance that belongs to later stables. That makes no matter, for here is maud S. She stands in the farther end, She wears a blanket,on which one reads, “Maud S, Queen of the Turf.” toe weights on Mand 8 and started again. When he pulled up he had no idea they had done anything and no one was more rx than he at the time when we gave it im. except by Mr. Bonner's by is Rarus, who seems sti tions that he was once king of $28,000, He has not and never bie nature of Mand S. In his proudest days he was cross, and his ill-nature has now settled in E | his hind heels, which we skirt with caution, for they are active, though sore. Rarus is never driven on account of these sore feet, which Mr. Bonner is caring for. He is walked'on the track outside the stables, which is prepared with re- gard to his tender feet, Across the stable is the stall in which Dexter died, aud from which he was taken to his grave on the ‘Tarrytown farm. Here also are “Pickett,” one of Mr. Bonner’s favorites, bred on the farm, a four-year-old, who has made 25, and some two-year-olds who have already ac- complished 40.” These are but a handful of the blooded stock which Mr. Bonner keeps and breeds at his country stables, COL, LAWRENCE KIP’S STABLES. Talk of Dutch cleanliness, of the traditional kitchen floor off which one may eat, neither can surpass the spotleseness, the shining neat- ness of Col. Lawrence Kip’s stables. There can be no house in town inhabited by humans 80 flawless as this cheerful, spacious home of May Dawn and Katrine. The waxed floor is flawless as a mirror. The heavy hemp carpet on which the horses walk from their rooms to the door is swept and garnished, really gar- nished, for an ornamental border of straw fringe borders it. The stalls are thickly laid with straw, scent-laden and shining as if just from the threshing floor. The stablemen have an art of arrangement all their own, and it is turned in at the edges as ‘skillfully as a hem learned at sewing school. The carriage wash is covered with a large and handsome red rug and shade of all that is decorative. The car- riage wash is faced three feet high with Mexi- can onyx. The plate-glass stable doors and windows, the faucets, glass and brass every- where arc shining. “My stable is my yacht,” said Col. Kip. The comparison is good, for it is as profusely and nattily Higged and beautifully tended as a acht. Col. Kip has been a military man, and ¢ brought to his stable all his military habits of order and precision, Every morning at 9 o'clock he is at his stables, and everything is to be ready for in: ion. Every implement must be ciean an place, We are casual visitors and the hour is early, but as Col. Ee opens the door and throws the light on dar! corners and shelves, cedar closets, and what not everything is according to line and plam- met, What there is not for convenience he has invented. Lhe = 3 like brackets are gilded spikey frames. This is one of his in- ventions, intended to hold the harness as it is removed from the horse, and the ends are cov- ered with rubber that the harness may not be seratched. ‘ It was Col. Kip who suggested the prize of- fered xt the horse show for the baot-caute ed road-wagon—a prize that he himself took last year. This, too, seems to have come out of that military training which bids men prepare for emergencies. “The idea is that a man shall carry with him all that he needs, but as I suggested in the catalogue, not everything that he owns. For example, he wants his horse blankets, his own lap robe, goggles, pick to remove a stone that may get lodged in a hoof, &c. Such things that a man may happen to need, but is likely to for- get,” Co). Kip explains. Col. Kip’s precautions go farther. “I always have two single road wagons that I may have one in any case. That one I will begin to use this fall. The other will go to Brewster, who will take it in part exchange for a new one.” ‘They are spidery affairs and Crepes 2 A not much more than red wheels, They weigh 155 pounds and have all extra strength centered in the axles. The favorites of the stable are May Dawnand Katrite. dark bays. Katrine is the half sister of Guy, whose record of 2:11 makes him the formidable rival of Maud 8, whose time many people think he will yet equal. as he is years younger. She isa beautiful little bay mare. with slender aristocratic legs and an air of trimness and tautness which again suggests yachting similes. She comes up promptly to be petted and gubs her nose in that affection- ate manner which, as Alfred Wallace says, is the rudimentary form of kissing once practiced by humans. She has no record, having never been trained for speed. She is simply for her master’s delight, and, says Col. Kip, “it would seem « spoilt day if, from 3 to 6, I was not out with May Dawn and Katrine.” May Dawn is but a shade different in color and lives next door with a small fox-terrier, who plays in and out among her heels like a kitten. Her portrait is in the large room and Katrine is to sit for a pendant to an artist next month. Col. Kip has quite a picture gallery, includ- ing ‘Ethel Medina,” whom he once owned, and who was the late lamented ‘Maxey Cobb's” great mate. The only racer in the stable is Bay Tom, who has a record of 2:25, but does not commend himself to feminine eyes on account of his ar- chitectare, which Col. Kip describes as “hippy,” and which no amount of corn and oats can overcome. Many Gay Humruneys, cee Saturday Smiles. The language of a deaf mute is a thing that goes without saying.— Puck. . ‘Clerk—“Mr. Daybook, I would like leave of absence this afternoon to attend the funeral of a cousin.” Mr. Daybook (next morning)—“‘What was the score, John.” —New York Sun. The tombstone is abont the only thing that can stand upright and lie on its face at the same time.— Terre Haute Express Politeness varies. When a disttnguished citizen enters your home you do not ask him to “‘take a seat on the floor,” but if he should visit —— or the legislature it is considered just the thing to do.—Toronto Globe. A tailor being asked if the close of the year made him sad said yes, until the clothes of the year are paid for.— Tezas Siftings, Madame—‘Do up my hair, Felice, while I am down to breakfast.” Felice—‘Yes, madame; which color?” Madame—*The black, please—I am going to a funeral.” —Binghampton Republican, St. Peter (to new arrival at the pearly gate)— “Do you want to come in?” New Yorker—‘What's the limit?”—Sunday She wears a muzzle, else she would eat up her bed and carpet. The groom removes both and she comes promptly forward, Ilere is a little lady who has done something tha me of her kind have ever done before. ¢ is the one horse out of all the world, and ¢ is unspoiled and friendly as a kitten. She loves the ladies,” the groom says, as T nose against my shoulder and en- dif a parasol knob is succulent. es Mr. Bonner, too, but of all she loves Murphy. Murphy may not get down but tw: « year. bat when he comes in the far door and calls she knows his voice and shows how glad she is in every way. It is Murphy also who is associated with her greatest successes, and he is the only one except Mr. Bonner who ever dresses her. Murphy is now Mr. Bonner’s trainer on his Tarrytown farm and receives, it is said, $100 a week. In her stall, which is not adorned except with her unparalleled records, hangs a short, plain litte whip that the groom ex) is the second whip that ever touched Mand 8, and her back at the end of that was simply laid on fini Mr. Bonner offered Murphy $25 for it, but while he will not sell it he permits it to remain in Maud 8's apartment, fo to say. “It would be no use to whip Maud 8,” the — explains. “She always does the best If you would beat her she'd lose. e won't stand beating. Shi feminine trait, although ¥ as obstinate, and with such a love for famil- ths that if she meets one heaven and her taking it,” Maud 5 comes from Ohio. Mr. Vanderbilt became her owner and from him for $40,000, Bhe lc &, Dispatch. Chieago Sport—“‘Our basebalists have be- come too honest for any use, all of a sudden.” Friend—‘Why do you think so?” Sport—“Of late not one of them can be in- duced to even steal a base.”"—Chicago Globe, A Wart. Oh, now the rich man’s eyeing is golden hoard ; eter soon be spect in buying ‘Cheap country board. —Chicago Newe. Miss Cadaladder—“Why is it my dear, that a man, generally speaking, loves his wife more before he marries her he does after?” Mrs, Heavyhart—*‘Because she isn't his wife before he marries her."—Meu's Wear. A western farmer is represented as saying that it is better to be struck by lightning than bya Hye te agent. He has n ver struck by lightning, and so his e however sad, is one-sided. Loulsvile ecorder ‘Your friend Miss Rapid has very ill. Bhe called me an ‘How silly of you to notice it, you are not thirty yet.”—Serwb- isin parpepess bas tne’ citaoes vo bealee- inal pai i our ¢! so ful thatthe distilleries would be hly unprof- itable if they were to confine themselves to medicine whisky, Let scoffers remember this, -—Louisville Courier-Journal, It appears from the society columns oul morning pare that Miss when you know % ofa St. Written for Tan Evenree Stan, TOWN AIRS AND GRACES. Many Little Matters in Which Nearly Every Woman ts Interested. SOMETHING ABOUT SUMMER FABRICS AND HATS— ‘WALKING WANDS FOR WOMEN—HOW TO TREAT HAIR IN SUMMER—ADVICE TO GIRLS WHOSE FACES GET BED—SUMMEB READING. Tall walking canes for ladies are just shown in a highly fashionable shop, the last importa- tion of Parisian seaside fancy. The canes are white enameled wood or ebony, nearly five feet tall, thick as a stout walking stick and finished silver and a cord and tassel lower down, in fac of the stick carried by a Swiss guard or major dumo. The fashion is, however, not wholly to be laughed at. It is a great ro of to, delicate women to have some ight support an personal; found one’s satemata eeoocteny eked out by a subaney beast aged oe differe: be- ween com: 1e or coming with strength gained. spi- nal ailments, not fancy ones, but real, deep- seated maladies, will go out tocling fresh and pretty Pi.grotd for an hour or two, when sud- de strength gives way, it is an effort to upright, and the comfort of a stick. or crutch is too friendly to be told. I have often — of writing asonnet to my own crutch for the comfort it has been—the best friend, — my pillow and my pen, that I have ever wn. THE CARE OF THE HAIR, The great trouble away from home with girls seems to be to heat their curling-tongs without gas in the daytime or any sort of fire in the country boarding-house, I have just had to find, for two friends up in the Catskills, a cun- ning contrivance of an alcohol pocket-lamp with a wire be cg for the curling-iron while heating. The whole thing coste 75 cents, shuts in a pasteboard case, is light exough to go by mail, and small enough to go in the pocket. know girls will thank me for ‘mentioning of it,” as the country folk say. How to keep the hair in curling order is another thing, and to do this one must keep the natural oil out of the locks, washing the front hair with borax or with a dilution of ammonia, one tabl mnful of ammonia to juart of water, When dry, moisten with bandoline ae in crimp till it dries again. Wetting the hair with alcohol in hot weather tends to diminish its dampness, and spraying the temples and top of the head with lavender water from an atomizer relieves heat and headache without the drenching by water, which spoils the hair in summer. trai must be washed as often as once a week the warm season through to keep it silky, as it grows stiff with imperceptible dust setiled on the rings of the hair, if — causing a difference in the shade of color. A NEW YORK CHARACTER, For the last fifteen years whenever @ corre- spondent was short of a subject he turned a paragraph on Miss Middy Morgan, agricultural editor of the Times. My reason for writing of her is not quite the same, but some recollec- tions were brought up by seeing her the other day ather desk on the spacious editorial floor of the new Times building. The grand old ea looks a eat ere and more gaunt than she used, but I always remember her by | the splendid symmetrical modeling of her figure in bathing dress years ago. Her neck and arms from the wide-sloping shoulders to the finger tips were perfection, and the face above them in its early days was a type of blue- eyed, dark-haired, thoroughbred Irish good looks. Well, being in amicable conversation with this authority on grazing once, I inno- cently asked her to explain to me what’ was meant by “grade cattle,” a phrase frequently used in stock reports. ‘Oh, it’s no use,” re- sponded the daughter of the Irish Rings, toss- ing her head, “‘you couldn't understand it if I did explain it.” That was rather a taking down, but I like plain speaking far too well to quarrel with its eccentricities, and as I since learned without peculiar effort of mind that Hggade cattle have a definite propor- ion of pure blood, no harm was done. Two years after I found myself lame, dependent on acrutch, at the Erie depot in Jersey City in charge of a Loe basket of mapelies going up country, and nota soul to help with it. The person who was to meet me had failed to con- nect, as usual, no boy was about when needed, and those long railway platforms take you al- most into the country before you reach the cars. I was moving slowly and painfully along, my crutch under one arm and that 40- pound basket nearly wrenching the other out of the socket, when strong hand swung the burden from my grasp, and that tall, easy fig- ure’of a demi-goddess in an old waterproof dress glided by my side with it, as if carrying heavy baskets were the most natural thing in life. She did not let go of it till we were safely eared for. talking kindly and genially all the way, and that was the last I sawof her for many aday. How many times since in dreams that strong, kind arm has come relieving m: and weakness like the sweep of some ready angel in working garb. How many women vaanne another so, or would do it if they READING FOR YOUNG WOMEN. Caryophyll wishes for a list of entertaining books ‘suited to develop a taste for reading in acircle of ladies and girls who find much that is recommended rather dull.” Of course they do, Amiddle aged young lady lately told me she had tried to cuitivate a taste for reading, and began Middlemarch, but confessed she found it so heavy she never finished it. She might as well have begun to like reading b; taking Bishop South’s sermons. Middlemare and all George Eliot’s novels are thoughtful books for persons of advanced taste and ripe minds. It takes a fine order of mind and ex- perience to be a good novel reader, one who tastes with discretion and savors what he tastes. People want something which appeals to their own sympathies and their own run of ideas. I always tell women unused to readi to begin with Mrs. Gaskill’s “Cranford,” tha’ humorous, sympathetic little story of women’s lives im a quiet English village. They are retty sure to relish the story of the ink- ‘80 intensely genteel, and of the pussy who swallowed the old point lace soaking in milk to whiten it, and who had to take an emetic in consequence, and of the cow that feil in a lime- pt and lost her hair and went about in a blue aoe, a ye ings Pt Cah A ‘oll patheti peni #0 ly ya fine author. Then Miss Woolso: “Castle Nowhere” is a most poetic id pic- turesque collection of stories, revealing the unsuspected interest of our own Interior country and characters. That and Miss Phelp’s “Sealed Orders,” with its authentic histories of our eastern coast are books I want to read over every summer. ‘‘Villette,” by Charlotte Bronte, is the best depiction of real feminine character in fiction, which in this case is founded on fact, and the fiction is so finely wrought I never new anyone fail to be inter- ested by it, “Ona Cast” is one of the fe best later American stories, light, lifelike 80 brilliant as to oblige one to read with atten- tion, whether he will or not. Mrs. Oliphant’s “Little Pilgrim” and “Stories of the Beyond” are sure to thrill and enchant every reader not cut from nether millstone, and she alone some of the blissfuiness of ise within our range of fevling. All that Terry Cook has written and all Wilkins’ storivs should go into the list, and Lynn Lynton’s novel the most forcible and fine-drawn of any woman's work to-day, rich with exquisite, keen philosophizing, on topics which most interest women. Here is a list fit to interest a girl ora phi her, as nearly perfect in literary merit as eny ‘ction to be named, and so jively that the s1ost unlettered hearer could be fascinated by them, and if a season of such reading does not more ad- writers, det taste for vanced it will not be the fault of ECONOMIZING IN DRESS, It costs a trifle to dress in the front of fashion, when Redfern’s plainest begin at @65 for sailor suits and $95 i Pviait her Maslady.”” Une | tos Yello Co tear od oe ee om ‘imself couldn't have even imagined it.—St, Louis Republic. into wpush is i 4 : i i 4 H reall i i i hi ut e and with feather stitching nt effect. The crisp, fresh look of the lawn. and its feeling recom- with raffles of Me of-black silk in mend it above silk for midsummer wear. the fine y trimmed with linen crochet it, Or lace last for a lifetime and are as they are serviceable. covet it at sight. 2 A GIRL WHOSE FACE GETS RED. It is worth the annoyance of many stupid letters to receive one like that which follows and be able to help the frank girl's trouble. Saying in all confidence that she is owner ofa iplexion and is called pretty, she goes t there is one thing that will ruin my life if itkeeps on, and it is just this: When I out in the summer my te po? el as a it, Even in winter it is sometimes the same way; but in the summer it is terrible. It just seems as if every of blood in my body goes into my face. It does not come from over-eating, for lamavery light eater. Ihave a bean, and he asked me to go on an excursion lately, but I refused for this reason; but I did not tell him so. Iam not nineteen, and father and mother both like him. I have plenty of friends and ood clothes, and play iano, but these thi Fe « are nothing to me. am utterly miserable. If you can give me any- thing that will cure me I will never forget ye ** *” A man might well proud of the favor of a girl who can write such « sweet, frank, honest letter. She mast forgive me if I give the world to read lines it will be the better for—a posy of sweet brier and sweet pose, with the dew on them. I wish all heart ables were as easy to cure, The determination of blood to the head in such cases comes from too sedentary life, and is remedied by daily baths and rubbing all over, a dose ce werentre ie, Oy rang spoonful of epsom salts, followed by a seidlitz —— before breakfast for a week, with Gra- bread, berries, and cracked wheat for at _| least two meals a day. Beside this, one should spend as much as possible of every day in the open air, sewing, reading, lounging out of doors, on porch or lawn. Even in the city, sit- ting on a balcony or by an open window is bet- ter than being indoors, This letter 1s written on a back porch in a New York street, which affords a glimpse of red geraniums, a tree hung with fine, new caterpillar tents, and a waft of fresh Jersey air from across the river, which shows how much of natural sights and freshness are attainable between city walls, “Marian” ought to know that pulling superfluous hair out by twee- zers increases its growth. Better cut the hair close to the roote with sharp scissors than pullit out. The remedy for superfluous hair isasecret. Powdered magnesia or very fine chalk are good for oily skins, as the alkaline powder neutralizes the oil, and as the ducts are choked with over secretions of fat, the po can do no harm by closing the pores for the few hours in society during which the powder is worn. The face should be carefully washed with soap before and after using powder. There isa fine preparation of full- ers’ earth sold by a London chemist which is ood for greasy skins, and strong camphor is he best thing for a a § the large pores of the nose and chin, Washing Titian colored hair in weak ammonia dilution, a tablespoon- ful to three quarts of water, and drying it in the sun, lightensthe color. SutrLEy CARING FOR BABIES. Hints for Preserving Their Health—A Very Hot Summer Looked For. Dr. Edison, of the New York health depart- ment, is of the opinion that we are to have a very hotsummer. He reports that the most vigilant measureshave been adopted by the sanitary committee to cope with the scourges which make summer a season to be dreaded in those localities where the masses are crowded in filth and poverty. A corps of fifty physi- cians will be placed in the tenement districts throughout the city, making house-to-house visits, free of all charge, and leaving medicine andcopies of these rules, which are doubtless as applicable in Washington as in New York. 1.—NURSING ‘OF INFANTS. Overfeeding does more harm than anything else; nurse an infant a month or two old every two or three hours. Nurse an infant of six months and over five times in twenty-four hours, and no more. If an infant is thirsty give it pure water or barley water; no sug: On the hottest days a few drops of whisky may be added to either water or food, the whisky not to exceed a teaspoonful in twenty- four hours. IL—FEEDING OF INFANTS, 5 Boil a teaspoonful of powdered barley (ground in coffee-grinder) and half a pint of milk, with a little salt, for fifteen minutes; strain; then mix it with half as much boiled milk; add a lump of white sugar size of a walnut, and give it lukewarm from a nursing-bottle. Keep bot- tle and mouthpiece ina bowl of water when not in use, to which a little soda may be added. For infants five or six months old give barley-water and half boiled milk, with salt and a lump of sugar. Bhd older infants give more milk than barley- water. For infants very costive give-oatmeal instead ofbarley. Cook and strain as before. When your breastmilk is only half enough e off between breast-milk and this pre- pared food. In hot weather if blue litmus paper gpplied to the food turns red the food is too acid, and you must make a fresh mess or add a small pinch of baking soda. Infants of six months may have beef tea or beef soup once a day, by itself or mixed with other food, and when ten or twelve months old a crust of bread and a piece of rare beef to suck, No child under two years ought to eat at your table, ; Give no candies, in fact nothing that is not contained in these rules, without a doctor's orders, 111.—SUMMER COMPLAINT, It comes from overfeeding and hot and foul air. Keep doors and windows open. Wash your well children with cool water twice a day or oftener in the hot season. Never neglect looseness of the bowels in an bina Mpg the ay s ry physician at once, an ive rules about what it shonid take and how it MR. CADWALLADER’S WIVES. Mr. Hiram Cadwallader ran lightly up the steps of his house in Washington square one afternoon in May. A compactly-built little man of forty-five yeaca, with a round, smooth face and merry twinkle in his eye, he looked fully ten years younger than he was. “Is Mrs. Cadwallader at home, Nannie?” he inquired of the trim maid-servant in the hall. “ No, sir; she went out about 2 o'clock.” “Are there any letters, Nannie?” “Yes, sir; in your room on the dresser, sir.” “Thank you. Do you know where Mrs. Cad- wallader went?” “No, sir.” He ran upstairs whistling an air from “Barbe-Bleu,” and took up several letters from the dresser. “Two for Mrs, C.,” he soliloquized; “look like bills; here are some wedding cards, Bennie De Forrests’, I suppose, and here is a letter from Cynthia, What important commu- nication requiring four cents postage has she now to make, I wonder.” He opened the letter and ranrapidly through the first of the closely-written sheets: ‘“Pre- vented from writing lately on account of lum- bago—may go to the White mountains this summer—poor Mr. Pettito, our rector, in trouble again—used incense Easter morning— some busybody complained to the bishop—have been thinking so much lately of poor, dear Helen.” (Here Mr. Cadwal slightly knit his brows). “Ican hardly believe that it is fifteen years since—h’'m—do you remember that little sole-leather trunk of my father's. which Helen had after she you? I came across it in the attic yesterday, where it is stored with many other relics of by-gone . I thought so,” groaned Mr. Cadwal- lader, Sal dey she forever harping on these old relics of by-gone days? Why can’t people let _ ee pass away with the by-gone le —_ the letter impatiently from him and began ‘ing up and down. iss Cynthia Olds was the sister of the first Mrs. Cad: Mr. Cadwallader was a model husband during his first wife’s lifetime, and when she died he mourned her sincerely for two years, and then consoled himself with asecond wife. He never knew what became of the effects of the first Mrs. Cadwallader, and, without the slightest disrespect to her memory, he never had taken the trouble to inquire. He simply thought nothing about the matter. rr, Cadwallader took up the letter again and ut it in his ket. “The rest of this will for another time.” he muttered. ‘What's this?” as a folded bit of paper lying on the dresser caught his eye. He opened it and saw a few lines written in pencil: * Hiram: *T am not feeling quite well Brown has persuaded ft a'flttle trip into the country pe ame a little trip ‘good, She isg ing to take me with her ay ats geon, living there, and we will stay to dinner. Could you come for me this evening on the 8 o'clock train? “Ap B's Widgeon lives in large house ear the “Pp. rs. e station; and hrs. Brown says anybody can direct you.” “What does she mean by galloping off to Jer- sey, I wonder, when the last thing she said to me was not to forget the Wheatleighs’ recep- tion to-night. ‘Not feeling well!’ She was the ieture of health this morning. And who is irs, Brown? There's something behind those hundred kisses; she is not ordinarily so lavish, I'm glad to see she is paying some attention at last to what I have said to her about her hand- writing and hus dropped that monstrous angu- lar scrawl, Yes, she is ee ee ae, an B effort to please me. I wonder wi it is she wants. I'll have to go, of course.” (Mr. Cad- wallader stood a little bit in awe of his hand- some wife.) “I'll just dress now and go and dine at the club.” ee Leaving the note from his wife on the table he proceeded to make his toilet. About 9 o'clock a snug little man, in a dress suit and light overcoat, alighted at the station in Short Hills. He approached anold man who stood on the platform with a lantern and asked to be directed to the house of Mrs, Widgeon, “What Mrs. Widgeon, sir?” “Ido not know. This lady lives in a large house near the station, Iam told.” “There never was but one Mrs. Widgeon in Short Hills that Lever heard of, sir. is was old Widder Widgeon, who's been dead nigh on to ten years. There's her house, sure enough, that big one just beyond the bend in the road. Her married daughter lives there now. There's nobody else of that name here, unless - the summer boarders, and em. “That's queer,” murmured the little man. “Well, that must be the house, Thanks,” said he starting off down the road, Ten minutes later a lady, heavily oe emerged from the gloom at the other end ot the platform and approached the same old man. Can you direct me tothe residence of Mrs Widgeon?” she asked, in a mysterious voice. “What, another one?” chuckled the old tion eaeee “The widder seems to be in de- mand to-night.” “Do you. know, or doyou not?” asked the lady, sharply. “Well, ma'am, I reckon I know as well as anybody else around these _ Many a day's work I've done for the Widder Widgeon.” “Tt is alarge house near the station, is it not?” Which way am I to go?” : “Yes—yes, that's just what the gent said, but you'll find the party as you're a lookin’ for in a very small house now, not more’n six by two, in the cemetery just back of the church yon- der.” “In the cemetery—at this hour! Is—is any one with her?” = “Yes, ma'am, the old man is right alongside. They agree much better there than they did in the fi when they lived in the big house.” e man is intoxicated,” she murmured. “No, Hiram has discovered the loss of the note, and thinking he may be followed has bribed this old scoundrel to throw me off the track.” “T will find the place for myself,” she said aloud, and walked rapidly down the road. “Good luck to you, ma’am,” the old fellow called after her. : “Perfidious monster!” said Mrs. Cadwallader to herself. “It was id one do ghia myself from denouncing him on the train. How smiling and snug he looked! Little did he know who was so near him. To think of my having been so deceived in him all these ears! I wonder who the creature is. Per- yom he is really married to her, and I—oh, horrible! This must be the place.” She en- tered the , and, hearing astep on the walk, concsaled haiti? in the shrubbery. Her husband was there. The big house looked very dark to Mr. Cad- wallader as he walked up the avenue of trees leading to it. He —_ the bells several times before a head protruded from an upper win- dow and a female voice called, ‘Who's there?” “Js this Mra, Widgeon’s house?” he asked, “Yea—what do you want?” “Mra. Widgeon is dead.” “Ah! I be; m, Is—ah, Mre, Brown in?” “No, sir; she don’t live here.” Mrs, Cadwallader here?” —TWELVE PAGEs.: only thinks so,” “Yes, she only chinks so,” said the unhappy appear here now,” mid Sa back.’ “Come along, dear, letany one harm “But what would you do?” she persisted. “Td drive her a: ay ng Panag | and with a back- played her face, pale with teous indigna- w herse! to ‘and dre: if up fall height. “Well, sir, here she is!” “Henrietta, what does this mean?” gasped her husband. Cui Charlottes ith ” Loule- “Tt means, sir,” she cried, “that an injured ville, Giuéfuneti, Doan Vestibule treiy Wecuiegten wife has discovered your villainy; that she has | *,G7acinnatl with «Pullman sloeper for Loum. tracked you here and heard your repudiation | Durvitie” Eiicieiy Ache wile, “Gharkotte, Coiasnbans of her Your .own lips. Now drive her = Atlan! tomers. New Oriewus. Sexes, away or strike her to the earth—you are quite | Nw Orleans vis Atlanta Py ee ery Pelion am — see aude Serer Seshinawa So Be ugham, Ala., via Atlante “Henrietta, are mad or are Georgia Fr , acting?” he sibel, com it you “Traine co Washington and Ohio division leave Wash- grily. bly , no doubt you will say I am gs _—_ you might justice through s a heinous charge did i z held the proof of your perfidy in the paper written by the woman who calls herself your wife. Bigamist!” arrive Ko’ Teave ° aul Sunda; ‘una Bil on i re from the South vis Se , in Washington 6 53am. Tennesees, Brostoi and Ly . J je 7:13 pu... via — 4 “Bigamist? Henrietta, will you stop your | burg at 420: cm ant hae he ee raving long enough to tell me in as few words | 8d Ohio route and Charicateestiie et 2s) pom. a as possible just what you are talking about?” | {23 Pm and 8:09 am" ‘Strasburg ioral'st 18 held up a slip of paper to him. “Do you recognize this? Don't try to take it from me ‘Tickets Teservation apd tnformnation trivania avenve smd'at Passenger Sisto, Pomnuyive: Bia Radiroed, Oth and a or I shall ery for help.” Betreete JAS. L. TAYLOR, Gen. Pass, “How can I tell what it is in this light, when deve you shake it under my nose and then snatch it | 7\HE GREAT — away? It looks like note you wrote your- et AO nov self which brought me down here on this fool's poe WEST AND SOUTHWEST. errand.” STEEL RAILS” MAGNIFICENT Bot Tae. Mrs. Cadwallader smiled with fine sarcasm. Ei SUN outa, Ime, 7 “Oh, I wrote it myself, did I? It is so very | TRAINS LEAVE WASHINGTON, PROM STATIO: like my hand. Oh, how has such a clumsy de- ane OF SIXTH AND B STRERTS, AS ceiver contrived to hide his true self from me | For Pittsburg and the West, Chi Limited Express uring all these years!” of Pullman Vestibuied Gare at 8:50 an: daily Past “Teonfess the handwriting is better than | Sium'diccvuh?eatalld fo ste ” coolly replied her husband, who was and Harrisburg to St Louie; daily,except Neturday, Tow thoroughly angry, “but 1am not aware of | fp. Chicago, with Sleeping Car Alloons press, at 7:40 daily, with Neeptog 7:40 p.m. daily, w oF Cars Washington ty Cb: and St. Louis, int Hartisbure’ with thro com For Louisville and Memphis, Reaue demas 1608 Chicago, any one else whois privileged to sign herself in that manner.” “Monster! can you taunt me with my hand. writing at such a time? Ob, what a of ttsbur, end’ Pitusbany te Pittsburx, stone you must have!” 4 Cadwallader, noting the change in her | yor BALTIMORE AND POTOMAC RATLROAD, husband’s mood, was about to weep. daily, except Sunday. 8-10 a.m. “Henrietta, if, a8 you gently intimate, you | For,tic, Canandaigua aid Kochoster daily ; for But- did not write me to meet you here, some one | fn with sletnine fer Weakne eee -" been A paying 5 a se _, “ B For Willieaney rt Lock Haven, and Eluire at 0.908, will not help matters for us to stand at bay at : a z one another on the highway of this respectable | FOR RATMGADE Paik bie yeas Wed village. Iam going to catch the next train 10-09 he V0 11-40. back to Philadelphia, I advise you to come | Bi; 2.50, 4,10, 10:00 and 1120 pn.’ Lanta with me.” Mrs, Cadwallader felt that if she did not comply he would walk off and leave her stand- ing there, which would be a most undignified tion for her, will accompany you, sir, for the sake of appearances,” e said, “but I forbid you to Jersey speak to me.” A ine direct, transfer te Fulton Mr. Cadwallader obeyed her to the letter. | », oom Cite and Pete on Bee He lit acigar, and Henrietta walked by his | ¥°%) 92%" C2 and Points on Dowware Division, side in dignified silence. Arrived at the sta- | For AtlantieCity #00 11-00 and 11.40 a. m. week tion he inquired when the next train left for ; = oy Philadelphia. “In three-quarters of an hour. sir,” eg his friend of the lantern, “Did you-find the widder, sir, or ma’am?” Without replying to the question the husband and wife entered the waiting-room. It was empty. How could Mr. Cadwallader stand three-quarters of an hour alone in the room with that sphinx-like figure, who, he felt, was regarding him with reproachful eyes from behind her veil? If he only hada newspaper. Stay, there was Cynthia's letter, which he bad put in his pocket, thinking he might read it on the train. He could consume fifteen minutes over that. He moved over to the other side of the room under a lamp and took out the letter. Henrietta sat motionless as before. Then for a while there was no sound but the ticking of the clock and the rustling of the paper as Mr. Cad- wallader turned the pages. A whistle from her husband caused Henrietta to start. He stood up and came toward her. No, she would not speak to him. “My dear,” he said, ina dry tone, “I think that never before during the eight years of our have I had occasion to remind you that you hada «. Though there is nothing to + im this fact, it is, I think, deeply to be deplored that a sister of my first wife still survives. Will you kindiy glance over this page of a letter I received from Cynthia this afternoon which I have read for the first time this moment?” Henrietta thought to herself: “I shall pay no attention to him.” Then she took the letter. Mr. Cadwallader had opened it so that the pas- sage about the little sole leather trunk was up- ‘most. Henrietta read: “While looking over some sacred mementoes which had long been cherished there I found this note from dear Helen to you, which I thought you ought to have. I well remember the day when she and Annie Brown went down to Short Hills. It was the very day old Mr. Widgeon had his stroke of apoplexy, coming so sadly sudden as it did. The two girls were there at the time, and Helen returned alone shortly after, and I remember hearing her tell how Mrs. Widgeon carried on—” “Why, Hiram, then this note was from——” “Yes, this is the note Helen wrote me at the time, though I don’t remember a word about it. Itmust have dropped out of Cynthia's letter.” “And to think of the base suspicions I har- bored! Hiram, I can never forgive Cynthia Olds for this. I believe she did it on purpose. Ican’t tell you howI suffered since I found that letter on your table. “Don’t wrong poor Cynthia, my dear. I'm sure you must have been very much upset to apply such epithets to your husband as bigam——” Hush, hush!” she said, soothingly, laying her hand on his lips. “Ob, Hiram, forgive me! If I were sure that nobody was looking, Pa—"—Francis M. Livingston, in Epoch. Seept Sunday, and 3:45 pam. daily, with Dauing “FOR PHILADELPHIA ONLY. Fast Express 8:10 a, m. week days, and 8.10 p.m Guy- Express 2:10 p.m. daily. “Accom. 6 1p, me For Boston, without change, 2:50 p. For Brookizn, N. X.., ‘ City with “boats of Brooklyn A\ tree 20 except Sunday. and 9:00 am., 12.05, 4 unday. Sundays, 0: For Annapoli 6:00 pein” daily, except 10pm. FREDERICKSBURG, WAY, iti AD Wanninon i RAILWAY. Bes ™ ‘N EFFECT MAY 4:30, 6:35, 7 Axp Ono Ruxaow. ‘effect JUN from sta’ 9 and Northwest. V« £20 a.m, expres 9 “ooaud Tisiapam, tapos, exp Pitt and Clev ‘estibuled Limited ex- T1:20 am. and express B 0pm. Wheeling, Parkersburg and principal stations ‘express daily except Monday, at 3:03 and Local Stations +10:30 4:00, 5:00, on Sunday at ‘ashington ‘at on Metropolit ick feat. 10:30 am. 13:00, 14-30 p POTOMAC RIVER LANDINGS. ‘Steamer John W. Thompson leaves on M wondaye, Wednesdays and Frid at vet Lanai day DELPHIA DIVISION, ‘onuiash = ND PHILA’ 200, *9: eee Re TEAMER MATTANO. ves 7th-st ‘wharf, AYS, and THURSDAYS, at as far sup. F, L. TOLSON, Agent, 7th st. my4-3m_JNO. MCGAHEE. Agent, Riexandei Va. OTOMAC TRANSPORTATION LINE ‘For Baltimore and River Landings, Steamer Capt. Geoghegan. tea 8 Whart Bahay at a Slick a Por further ivi STEPHENSON & mh6-6m Fatek what. iB MAC RIVER LANDINGS. | a -W IRON STEAMER “W, -street wharf ou MONDA\ ot YS at 7 ‘SUNDAYS as Nomini Grbek, Vas ice 2s, Mocca 2Bye Si a