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Written for Taz Evexine Stan MEETING OF THE GLADIATORS. Preparations for the Great Fight Be- tween Sallivan and Kilrain. PROPOSED BATTLE GROUND—MONEY THAT HAS BEEN WAGERED—cONDITION OF THE TWO ‘MEN—RECORDS OF THE RIVALS —HOW THE COM- IN@ FiGHT WAS BROUGHT 430UT. Copyright, 1889. Sporting men the world over have been dis- eussing little else for weeks past than the Sulli- van-Kilrain prize fight. The fact that the battle was to be for the championship of the world, a diamond belt and the magnificent stake of $20,000—twice the amount of my purse previously fought for in the ring—com- bined with the hot partizanship on both sides, added unusual interest to the event. Fortunes have been wagered upon the result by the bet- ting fraternity, and it is fully expected that more money Will change hands after the last round has been fought and the stakes and ropes are pulled up, than has been the case in any fistie encounter since the great battle between Hyer and Yankee Sullivan for the champion- ship at Rock Point, Md., in 1849, when every man and boy in the country had a bet on the result, That was Tom Hyer’s last battle; for after his victory over the pluckiest fighter thar ever stood inside the ropes, no one dared to | challenge him. This will be John L. Sullivan's | last battle, also; for win or lose, he has de- clared that he will never again enter the prize ving. ‘THE CHAMPIONS Will meet each other with nature’s own weapons, | under London prize ring rules. There is no limit as to weight when the struggle is for the | heavy-weight pugilistic premiership; yet the | men are very evenly matched in every respect. | Kilrain stands 5 feet 11}¢ inches in height, | weighs, when trained. 195 pounds, and is four Months Sullivan's junior. The ‘Boston Boy” weighs 200 pounds trained, and stands 5 feet 103, inches bigh in his stockings. No two men more evenly matched ever fought for the cham- Pionship of the world. SULLIVAN AND HIS TRAINER. John L. Sullivan, who has heldchampionship honors longer than any other pugilist, was born of Irish parents at the “Highlands,” Boston, Mass., October 15, measures around the chest 44 inches, biceps 16% inches. He first began to spar in music halls in Boston, in 1879 At that time he was an ironworker and he used to take a kéen delight m witnessing the bouts between the smateurs on the variety stage. A plucky rough- and-tumble t.ghter, he learned to box and soon developed great science and quicKhess in his delivery. He tells in this way the story of his , fistic advent: JOHN'S FIRST FIGHT. “T had been goin’ to these halls for a good while, and had tried to get up a bout with some of the sparrers, but they wouldn't have | it. Try asI might, I was biuffed off by the | story that I was nobody, and that before they would spar with me I must get out and do something. Now, I was willin’ but couldn't! getashow. But my time came one night, when I was in the hall there was a fellow who Was to have sparred with somebody—I forget who; anyhow he didn't show up, and the master of ceremoniescame on the stage and gaid the other fellow. rather than disappoint the audience, was willin’ to spar any gentleman who liked to step up. “You can just betI didn’t need no second invitation. jamped on the stage and went to work, easy like, abit. Pretty soon I felt I my man, and I let out and wound him up im good shape. After that there wasn't any more talk about my not being good enough for any ¢ them to spar with then, you see. and I didn’t have no trouble, Shortly after that Billy Madden came to Boston and I went with him to New York. That was just before I fought Flood, which was my first real fight.” OTHER BATTLES. The brawny “Boston Boy” evidently made light of his encounters with Joe Goss, George Booke, Jack Donaldson and Steve Taylor, all of 1858. He PROPOSED BATTLE-GROUND. whom he met and vanquished before his fight with Flood. The latter battle was fought on a | henge on the Hudson river, May 16, 1881, and Sullivan defeated his opponent in eight rounds, | lasting just sixteen minutes. He was then pitted by Richard K. Fox agaist Paddy Ryan, of Troy, to fight according to London ri rules for $5,000 a side. The match seemed | likely to fall through because of the lack of backers of Sullivan. As yet he was a stranger | to the bigger sportsmen. © Finally, some of the spirits of the Boston Crib club took an | interest in their townsman and James Keenan, the Well-known sporting man, who died lately, Put up Sullivan's share of the stakes ight came off at Mississippi City, Miss., on February 7, 1882. and Sullivan won in nine rounds. Ryan, who had won the champion- ship by a fluke some time previous, went out of the ring for good. MANY CHALLENGES, Then followed s long train of challenges, few of which meant real business. Sulliva: fight with Jimmy Elliot on July 4, 1882, a four- round glove contest, was little better than a farce, for Elliot was a sick man when he en- tered the ring. Since that time he has held his own and captured the honors in encounters with “Tug Wilson.” the famous English boxer in New York; Charley Mitchell, another En- man, and one of the cleverest sparrers who ever entered a ring; Herbert Slade, the big Maori, whom he knocked out in three rounds; Dominick McCaffrey and Patsy Cardiff? In fighting the latter at Minneapolis Sullivan struck him so hard on the head that he broke his own wrist, and the contest was declared a draw. His last encounter was with Charley | sMitebell, whom he fought in a 24-foot ring with bare knuckles near Chantilly, France. After thirty-nme rounds a draw was declared. Mitchell was the stronger at the finish, although it was claimed by Sullivan's friends ‘that their Man was suffering from a b ital than fighting March rainstorm, really fitter to be ina h Baked in the teeth of a bi Tite gers ‘WIS FIRST FIGHT of real consequence was with Charley Mitchell, whom he fought toa draw in Boston. Then he had a similar experience with Mike Cleary in New York, Cleary being so weak when the draw was announced that he could hardly stand. A battle with Jack Burke was stopped by police. After this Kilrain had many adv imelnding William Sheriff, the “! iy George Fryer, an English fighter, Jerty Murphy, of Bangor, Me., a giant whom Kilrain almost killed in the ring, Jem McGlynn, Frank Herald, who dropped outin one short round, Jack Ashton, Joe Lannon and others. December 19, 1887, he met Jem Smith, champion of England, and fought for the belt and the championship of the world, at Isle St. Pierre, France. The men hammered at each other through 106 rounds, and at dark the referee ordered the battle stopped. Next morning it was decided a draw. Six months before meeting Smith, Kilrain had challenged Suilivan to fight for the championship, the belt and $5,000 a side, but the latter having re- fused to accept the challenge, Kilrain was pre- sented with the belt and claimed the cham- pionship. Thisemblem of the fistic championship of the word was manufactured expressly for the purpose of being held by some hero of prowess who yas willing to defend it against all comers. It is stipulated that all battles for the belt must be according to the rules of the London prize ring, and those rules will govern the Sullivan- Kilrain fight. The belt was first fought for at Mississippi City, in the Ryan-Sullivan affair, ‘ince which time, until lately ceded to Kilrain by defanlt, it has been held by the Bostonian. Some time ago, when the match between Sulli- van and Jem Smith f+"! through, the trophy was in serious danger of b ing carried off to En, land by @ default. she belt ii ity inches long, 8 inches wide, and weighs about 200 ounces in solid gold’ and silver. The center represents a prize-ring, with two men facing each other in fighting attitude. The whole of this work 1s solid gold. The rest of the belt is composed of so! ilver plates and flexible sil- ver, woven in chains. The plates are orna- mented with a variety of figures in gold, and there is a place for the likeness of the winner. also in gold, with a laurel wreath held sus- pended over his head in the beak of a golden eagle. It is the finest trophy ever contested for in the ring, and was the gift of Richark K. Fox, of New York city. Its value is said to be about 22,500. Fe. SULLIVAN'S COLORS. e When the Boston Boy vaults over the ropes and faces his ambitious foe his second will dis- play in his corner the same colors Sullivan used when he fought Paddy Ryan and also in his en- counter with Mitchell in France. He fioats the American flag with his own initials slanting from the left upper corner downward, a sham- rock in the left lower corner, and an Irish harp in the opposite corner. This gay commingling of the Irish and American never fails to fetch the crowd, and it was shrewd policy, whether it originated with Sullivan or any of his backers, to adopt such a device. KILRAIN’S COLORS are even more conspicuous. In the center isa portrait of the pugilist himself in fighting rig and attitude. The left upper corner contains the American flag, and the opposite corner has the coat of arms of the state of Maryland. The lower corners bave an Irish harp and a shield of stars and stripes. Just below the portrait is an eagle with outspread wings, bear- ing the trophy in its beak. It may be that the sign is an ominous one, for Sullivan, should he be in good condition, will certain! make @ royal battle to regain the coveted. trophy, Both colors are on a white ground of tna India silk. cE in mane OO ope rw When the principals enter the ring they will be accompanied to their Fespective cor. ners by their seconds. _ Charley Mitchell and i van will act in this capacity for Kil- rain. while Jack Ashton and Jack Barnett will do likewise for Sullivan. All four are men of the widest experience in affairs of the ring. Mitchell has been the victor in a dozen battles in England and has fought other Americans besides Sullivan, in e¥ery instance provi himself a remarkably clever fellow with ir “dukes.” It is remarked that Mitchell, who is more like a theological student ’ than a boxer, is the only man who gave knock-down i Sullivan ' a straight anevent that caused something akin to Madison 4 brilliant record ® consternation when they met at Square garden. Donovat has & very sciei a trainer and inetronte on as a hard fighter and boxer. He has been EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, ete ag pkeeigh eye ng CLAUDE DAMIEN’S MILLION. on for went wd Sullivan over. When the HOW THE MATCH CAME ABOUT. Although negotiations had been pending for nearly two years with a view to a match be- tween Kilrain and Sullivan, they would in all ere! have fallen through had it not been for the energy of William E. Harding, who has done as much to promote pugilistic encounters during the last fifteen years as any other man in America, Harding, who is known ,as the “King of Diamonds,” from the habit of carry- around a quantity of the gems loose in his yest pocket, began reperstions for the match immediately after tke attle between Kilrain and Jem Smith on French soil. Kilrain’s splendid fighting on that occasion and the fine record he achieved abroad made Sullivan anx- ious to meet him as soon as possible. Kilrain’s backer, by the hands of Harding, deposited #5,000 on August 13 of last year in the office of the Herald, in Paris, to secure the match. This was covered on Sullivan's behalf on September 28 by a syndicate of sporting men; but at that time Suilivan’s identity, for some reason, was hidden ‘andéhe syndicate placed their money on an “unknown.” Kilraiu’s backer, followed up his original deposit by two others of $2,500 each, making the total stakes $10,000 a side, and at the same time Kilrain came to New York to make the match and sign articles. After sev- eral postponements, principaily it was stated | on account of Sullivan's own objections to mak- | ing any more matches whatever, the mattee was seemingly abandoned. The Boston Boy, however, changed his mind and gave the sport- ing fraternity a pleasant shock of surprise when one bright December morning last year, the 8th of the month, he walked into the Clipper office in New York, deposited $5,900 and issued a challenge to Kilrain for a match at €10,000 a | side. The defi added that unless it was ac- cepted within two weeks Sullivan would claim the championship of the world and the trophy. On December 22 Kilrain accepted and covered Sullivan's deposit. SULLIVAN'S QUEER THREAT. A meeting was held at Toronto, at which de- tails of the match were arranged. At that meeting Sullivan’s old spirit asserted itself. “If I win the belt,” said he with a laugh, “T'll give it to some bootblack.” “Better not, Jobn,” said his backer. “Oh, well,” said the big fellow, “I'l fight Kilrain for it, anyhow, and we can see about :t afterward.” New Orleans was chosen as the battle-ground, andstakeholder and referee were talked of, but Sullivan’s friends claimed that they pre- ferred to choose the referee at the ring side, as had been the custom from time immemorial, since the Cae ie of Tom Hyer till now. The ar- ticles were then concluded fixing the date of the great fight for Monday, July 8, at a point within 200 miles of New Orleans. THE CHOSEN sPorT. The spot where the famous “mill” will take place is a retired neighborhood less than a hundred miles distant from the Crescent City. To prevent interference the actual locality ie een kept a strict secret from all but a very lew. “It’s the daisiest ground for a fight that could have been chosen.” said one of the back- ers. “We will have a big special train, and, aftet we leave New Orleans, will employ a cer- tain trick we know to give any possible pur- suers the slip, Then we will go right on to our destination, which will take about two-and-a- half hours to reach, We will get off at a point where the railroad goes around some low foot- hills, and there, less than half a mile off, be- side a piece of woods, is our layout all ready. There is a farm-house near by, where we can got any Little thing we want, but we won't need it. Our ropes and stakes are there now. The ring will be pitched @arly and the men will Sey et to work shortly after daybreak. Srowds,” he said with a laugh, “why, of course there'll be a crowd. Could a mill for the championship and such a stake as this come off without anybody goin’ to see it? Not much.” “‘And should there be any police interfer- ence?” : “There won't,” was the emphatic interuption. “That'll be all fixed right. But if there should be any row about it, which I don’t expect, why, the train is handy and it'll be there all the time with steam up and within easy running distance. Oh,you can bet we won't let that train out of sight till the mill’s safely over. No, there won't be any fluke, as far as I can judge, and it'll be agood battle and the best man will win, sure.” “‘And who do you think is the ——” “See here, young feller; take my advice and f° there an’ see for yourself. I know where 'm puttia’ my money; but I ain't givin’ out no tips this trip.” WHO WILL WITNESS THE BATTLE, Of course all the noted sporting men of the country will be at the battle-ground when the mill begins, The demand for tickets has been unprecedented even in the history of prize- fights. Delegations from Philadelphia, Bos- ton, eet ees and some from even as far west as Denver and the Golden Gate re asked to be counted in when the great affair comes off. New York alone will send a con- tingent of fully a thousand sports of all classes, from the bantam and feather-weight to the heavy slugger who delights to make the Boston Boy his model, Among those who are going to see the battle for themselves are Steve Taylor, heavy-weight pugilist; Billy Madden, Sulli- first trainer; Jim Dunne, the Brooklyn eight; “Pony” Moore, Michell’s father- who boasts that he “‘hasn’t missed a mill in thirty years;’ Ed. Holske, of Boston, formerly a trainer of Sullivan; Bill Kendall, Frank ite, Al. Turnbull, and a host of other fistic fry, big and little. = will send over Sam Blakelock, Robert Watson and others, The sporting men of the south will swell the qrowd to very considerable proportions, so that, altogether, it promises to be the most formiaa- ble gathering of toughs that has ever assem- bled within ‘Encle Sam's borders. Davip Wescauzr, + +00 The Chief Justice on a Street Car. From Wide Awake. The Chief Justice of the United States oa Queen's Gate looked a little askance at Mr. ple’s money rather than his own, and was chiefly engaged in the mysterious occupation of oting public companies. ese rumors, however, did not prevent the Ponsonby Walkers from having a large circle of friends and acquaintances, who assisted at their social functions and returned their hospi- tality by similar entertainments. In fact, the Ponsonby Walkers were rather fashionable peo- le, and it was, perhaps, ¢1 as so ps as any- thing else which caused sont 0” thei neighbors to speak disparagingly of them. The prevail- ing impression ‘ameng honest, unsophisticated folk was that Mr. Ponsonby Walker was a per- sonage in the city of scarcely less importance and standing than a Rothschild or a Baring: and no one was more deeply imbued with thi idea than young Claude Damien. But three- and-twenty is « credulous age, and a passionate admiration for a man’s daughter is apt to shed 8 kind of golden halo around the young lady’ parents, thought of suspecting Mrs. Ponsonby Walker f being dull amd commonplace, nor did he ever doubt that Mr. Ponsonby Walker was a merchant’ prince of almost untold wealth. Under these circumstances it is not surprising that the young gentleman felt serious misgiv- ings on the subject of his attachment to Mr. Ponsonby Walker’s only daughter Miriam, for he guessed instinctively that the financier would sternly discourage his pretensions. But Miriam Walker was an impulsive; warm- hearted girl, and having lured Claude Damien to his fate by receiving his attentions with marked favor, she scoffed at his idea that his povertf was an insurmountable bar to their union. She fervently vowed that, whatever her father’s decision might be, she would al- ways regard Claude as her affianced husband, and prevailed upon the young man to demend the parental consent and benediction. She succeeded in almost persuading him that Mr. Ponsonby Walker belonged to the benevolent order offathers who are disposed to overlook such trifling drawbacks as absence of income d expectations in a daughter's suitor. Claude Damien could not quite bring himself to regard | Mr. Ponsonby Walker in that amiable and fatu- ous light, but, rendered desperate by the state of his affections, he screwed up his courage and called upon Miriam’s father one day at his office in the city. “What can Ido for you, Mr. Damien?” in- quired the financier, in a’ patronizing, conde- scending tone, as Claude entered with heart thumping against his ribs like a battering-ram. “You do not recognize me, sir,” said Claude, nervously observing that Mr. Ponsonby Walker read his name from his card with a hesitation | which showed that it was unfamiliar. “I had the pleasure of being introduced to you once y the house of a mutual friend, Major Stan- ope.” “Ah! tobe sure. You're a son of the late Gen. Damien. I remember perfectly,” said Mr. Ponsonby Walker, encouragingly. “Can I have a few minutes’ private conver- sation with you. sir?” murmured the young man. “Well, I am very much overwhelmed with business just now. I have an important meet- ing of the board of the Grand Eldorato Dia- mond Mining company at 3 o'clock,” said Mr. Ponsonby Walker, with importance. ‘We are proceeding to allotment, Mr. Damien,” he added significantly, indeed!” observed Claude. a splendid property, Mr. Damien; a splendid property,” said Tr. Ponsonby Walker, rubbing his hands. “As a friend of Stan- hope's, I advise you to apply at once for some shares——” “No—no, thank yo interposed Claude, with an ominous sinking at his heart. ‘The fact is, Thhave called to ast your permission to become engaged to your daughter Miriam.” “To my daughter Miriam—to Miss Ponsonby Walker!” exclaimed the financier, staring at the young man with undisguised amazement. “Have you spoken to her on the subject?” “Yes! last night, at Mrs. Anstruther's ball,” said Claude eagerly. rif this is very serious,” said Mr. Pon- sonby Walker solomenly. ‘I have heard noth- ing of it. Will you have the goodness, Mr. Damien, to state your position and prospects?” Poor Claude ien realized, with painful force, the utter hopelessness—not to say temer- ity—of his mission, as he proceeded, wm falter- ing accents, to describe his unfortunate circum- and it is hardly surprising that the tement caused Mr. Ponsonby Walker to grow crimson with indignation. ‘Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Damien, that you have no means, no occupation, and no ex- pectations whatever?” exclaimed the financier, falling back in his chair, and gazing at him with contemptuous amazement; “no relatives, even, or friends to whom you can look for as- tance!” ‘I have an uncle—my poor mother’s brother —living in America, Ihave heard that he is rich and a bachelor,” said Claude, from sheer desperation, “Well! and what is his name? and what will he do for you?” inquired Mr. Ponsonby Walker a little more encouragingly. “His name is William Barnes. He emi- grated m: Sof mag ago, and I believe he lives at Princess Town, Kansas county. But I have no right to expect that he will do any- thing for me,” added poor Claude, blushing hotly. deed, he has never answered the letter which I wrote to him some months ago, when my father died.” “Upon my word, this is absolutely proper: terous!” exclaimed Mr. Ponsonby Walker, bounding from his chair and glaring at his un- te visitor from i center of the pases rug. ‘Do you seriously suppose for an instant, Me Damien, that I can consent to your engag- ing yourself to—ahem!— Miss Ponsonby Walker?” “I love your daughter, sir, very deeply, and am doing my best to seek employment. I hoped, perhaps, that you might consent condi- tionally upon my —' “Pshaw!” Mr. Damien; you are wasting my time and your own,” interposed Mr. Ponsonb’ Walker with an an; gesture. ‘Understand, lease, once for all, that I forbid you to speak aS my daughter again. Your conduct, sir, is impertinent—nothing less than impertinent, In fact, I—I—Mr. Damien, oblige me by leay- —e room this instant.” . Ponsonby Walker was purple in the face with furioum indignation, and he even made a step toward Claude as though he meditated viclence, The young man had sense enough to perceive that to attempt to prolong the in- terview would ony lead to a regretable acene, and he therefore prudently withdrew, feeling more deeply humiliated and crestfallen than he had ever done in his life. The truth was that Claude Damien was thor- oughly ashamed of himself, for he was an est and he painfully realized that he acted the rudent adventurer. It was, no doubt, the height of presumption on his ring that he was absolutely }), to aspire to marry the g ° E i | F 3 his 4 f ie 5 I i Clande Damien would neyer have |- the will city (copy as residuary leg effects, died on catrnated the 2ist instrue- The young man fairly gasped for breath as read this amazing intelligence, and for several minutes he stared blankly at the letter, unable to realize that he was actually 2 mil- lionaire. But as he grew calmer and proceeded to read the will of his — Pag olend oa grasped thé situation sufficiently to jump int He go drive straight to the office of Mr. Ponsonby Walker. Miriam's father received him with very scant courtesy, but when he announced his good for- tune, and produced the letter of Mr. Silas Blot- ting and the copy of bis uncle’s will, the cier’s manner changed completely. ‘My dear Damien,” exclaimed Mr. Ponsonby Walker, in an almost awe-stricken voice, “this is glorious news! I congratulate you.” “I love your daughter, sir,” murmured the young man tremulously. “A million sterling! ejaculated Mr. Ponson- by Walker, rising excitedly in his chair, “It belongs to Miriam,” cried Claude, with emotion. “My dear Claude, your constancy is touch- ing,” said Mr. Ponsonby Walker, quite over- come. ‘God bless you, my boy!” *'Thank you, sir,” said lands, wringing the hand of his future father-in-law. “Claude, my boy, regardless of your fortune, it will be better that you should have some employment, Asa start, therefore, I would suggest that you should jointhe Board of the Grand Eldorado Diamond Mining company,” cried Mr. Ponsonby Walker, with sudden es, * " nly, promptly. _ “May T put inquired 7M % like tone. “Tl take a thousand,” replied Claude, witha new and delightful sense of recklessness. “No, no; you mustn't put all your eggs in one basket. The Grand Eldorado, however, willbe asplendid thing—a splendid thing, But a hundred shares will be enough,” said Mr. Ponsonby Walker, rapidly filling up a printed form. ‘There, my boy, sign that, and you will over that I have’ given you a princely wed- ding gift.” Claude Damien dashed off his signature in a lordly manner and then started off in a state of delirious happiness to claim his aftianced bride. Then came a period of delicious excitement, during which the young man was scarcely con- scious of his own identity. His sudden eleva- tidm from poverty to extreme wealth almost turned his head.” Not only was he received with affectionate deference into the bosom of the Ponsonby Walker family, but he was over- whelmed with congratulations and polite at- tentions from every one. The fame of his good luck spread abroad like wildfire, and before a week had elapsed every newspaper in England published paragraphs alluding to the event, and also mentioning the happy circumstance of his engagement. Mr. Ponsonby Walker ex- pressed great annoyance and indiguation at the introduction of his danghter’s name into the public prints, but Claude could not help fancy- ing that his father-in-law elect was not so dis- pleased as he affected to be, But Claude Damien had something else to think of besides love-making and responding to congratulatory epistles. fn the firs place it was necessary to take steps to obtain posses- sion of his property, and for this purpose he laced himself in the hands of a firm of solici- rs recommended by Mr. Ponsonby Walker. Unfortunately Mr. Blotting wrote in reply to telegraphic inquiries that the testator’s estate consisted almost entirely of land and houses, which could not be converted into money unti after the usual interval. This was a disap- pointment to Claude, for he longed to taste the sweets of his inheritance, and, moreover, he had been applied to for the purchase money of his shares in the Grand Eldorado Gold Min- ing Company. Having no means of meeting this demand he had no alternative but to seek the advice and assistance of Mr. Ponsonby Walker. + ridiculous situation,” exclaimed the , with a hearty laugh, as he slapped his future son-in-law on the back. “Imagine an impecunious millionaire!” “It's awkward all the same,” said Claude, laughing also. : “Pooh! There need be_no difficulty,” re- sponded Mr. Ponsonby Walker. “I’ll’ write you a eheck, Stay, though!” he added, thoughtfully. “I think, on consideration, that Lhad better not. One can’t be too careful in these matters, and remarks might be made if it should transpire that the money came from me.” Mr. Ponsonby Walker winked conf.dentially ashe spoke, and looked so knowingly at the young man that the latter, without the least understanding him, felt impressed by the wis- dom of the financier’s remark. ppose not,” acquiesced Claude doubt- fully; “but where shall I get the money from?” “You can borrow it from your solicitor, or— well, perhaps it is better to be independent, and you can afford the luxury—why not get it from Benlevi?” said Mr. Ponsonby Walker. “By ali means, But who is Benlevi?” in- quired Claude. “Benlevi of Burlington street,” replied Mr. Ponsonby Walker, with another sagacious wink. ‘A money-lender, but honest as they go. He will make you pay for the accommodation, but what will that matter to you?” So Claude, nothing loath, paid a visit to Mr. Benlevi, who received him very civilly, havmg evidently read all about him in the newspapers. From this worthy the young man obtained, on somewhat startling terms, a sun of money which enabled him to take up his shares an left something over. Being thus in funds, Claude Damien did not scruple to launch out a little by taking an expensive set of chambers and furnishing them luxuriously, He found no Kacrgpeer in obtaining credit from trades- people, and having once set the ball arolling, e sir,” said the young man ‘ou down for a hundred shares?” onsonby Walker, in a business- soon raised a very considerable ae of debts, and began to live in a manner iy of his enviable circumstances, At the instance of his future father-in-law, who represented that he ought not to neglect his own interests, Claude Damien attended one or two meetings of the directors of the Grand Eld lo Diamond Mining Com- ny, though the procee and in- deed the ort rather bored It was grati » _ however, oung man to learn that his connection with sep y had hada very good we | and that ite were being gigerly app! for, especially as he understood that terious way the success ef the company was an excellent thing for Miriam's father. Claude was a little puzzled at because Mr. Pon- sonby Walker's name did not ‘on the prospectas of the company, nor among the list ~ -— ee absorbed with the com: juestions, being es = living. as Mr. Ponsonby soon ceased to trouble him any more about the eevee ‘was perfectly content not to | out of it, and come along with me,” said his j aint aristocratic, but it’s honest. Icall my- i ; E t : Pee ef f i “I am ruined, dishonored!” exclaimed Claude, overwhelmed with thought of his position, 5 what will Miriam think? ‘Iam innocent of any indle, Uncle William,” he added with fierce ergy. “Say, how did it all happen then?” inquired his uncle in a more friendly 5 Claude Damien, feeling that he was on his defense, pulled himself together, and gave a} events which have been narrated. His uncle | listened with close attention, and occasionally been Joss agitated, would have given rise to a | suspicion that the old jpntieman had already made himself acquaiffd with the circum- stances. -Well, nephew, if you ain't a knave, you are | & fool, which is almost as bad these days,” | said his uncle, when he had finished. ‘Your | r. Ponsonby Waiker has played you @ nice “Mr. Ponsonby Walker!” exclaimed Claude, wi a start. “Why, certainly. It was a plant of his to boom his precious company, whose shares, by the by, are now worthless. But that don’t mat- ter to him. He floated the concern, and got his promotion-money, you bet,” said the old gen- Ueman, with quiet conviction. “Impossible!” gasped Claude, horrified at the suggestion, “That is so, and you've got into an awkward scrape. The best thing you can do is to clear uncle not unkindly, “T've abusiness over yon- | der in Princess Town—a dry goods store. = self Williams over there because I'm in anddon’t want to burt the family pride,” ad- ded the old gentleman sarcastically. “Hang family pride! I'll go with you, uncle, certainly, and, if necessary, sweep out the | shop,” cried Claude, with heartfelt earnestness. “But what about my deb: “Never mind your debts,” replied the old gentleman, who seemed pleased at his nephew's evident sincerity, ‘They are not they are Mr. Ponsonby Walker's. to “em.” “And—and Miriam!” exclaimed the young man with a beating heart. “Miriam! Ob! ‘That is the girl? You don't suppose that she really cares for you, you young idiot,” said his uncle brusquely. “I'm sure she does, Whatever her father may be, Miriam is true, and—and I love her. Uncle William, better than my life,” exclaim: ie shall see “Well, is that so,” said his uncle, ina quiet, matter-of-fact tone,” as I've no room for absent-minded lovers in my establishment, you had better mary her straight away. You think she would come, eh?” “Uncle!” ejaculated Claude, completely staggered by the boldness of the proposition. “Why—why, of course she would. But—but, | her parents would never consent. Mr. Pon- sonby Walker—” “Leave him to me,” said the old gentieman witha grim smile.’ “He will be only too anxious to get rid of the ghost he has raised on any terns, you bet! I've got evidence in my pocket which will make him listen to reason. If you can persuade the girl to come back with us in the Etruria at the end of the month, I'll fix matters with her father and get his blessing —for what its worth!—into the bargain.” Claude never quite understood how it all oc- curred, but he not only received Mr. Ponsoby Walker's blessing. but, what was more to the H the hand of his daughter and receipts ‘or all the money he owed.—London Truth. POTOMAC RIVER BOATS. POTOMAC RIVER LANDINGS Steamer John W. Thompson leaves 6th street wharf on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at 7 a.m. Re- fun Lucsdays huredays, and Baturdays, pam, | landing at River Landings as faras Rock Pout Col! ton's, Md., Nomini Creek, Va, Va, and mardtown, Md. . Fare to all’ landings: First-class, 50 cents; Second class, 35 cents. del 2-Lin = Ra Dany Nonrorx Lie, OLD POINT AND THE SOUTH. Steamer Lady of the Lake. from 6th-st, wharf, Tues- oy. Thepetes. and Sa, 2. ap Geo. ary, 7th-st. Wharf, Monday, Wednesday, ani ‘ 5 pill Steainers stop at Pibey Point. Pare. 81,50. Lake, Tel, call, 94; Leary, 745-3. paca — Pa 4 aed 4 wunidays' down. and Wednesdays” up. | Chapel Point, Thursdays down and sup. ys and Wed- E. L. TOLSON, Agent, 7th st. wharf. _my4-3m_JNO: McGAHEE. Agent, Alexandria, Va OTOMAG TRANSPORTATION LINE. and River For Baltimore Landings, Steamer Sue, i jeaves Stephenson's Wharf every p.m For further intormaton we tolerably lucid and coherent account of the | $2¢.Ohio asked questions, which, if the young man had | fui our debts; | Claude excitedly. | we Veativule te. » Pullman jor a 11:00 p. m.—Southern Express tor Riraete Atlant Micteviaer, See Oats tes Y, New c and Caltioru, catibule Car ington te New Orleans, via Atlanta and. Montge Bieeper Wi to Birmingham, Ale.. via Atlaute ie Railway: } fon and Ohio ineton 9 a. kor) daily; arrive Bound Bil i inw leave Round Hill &m. and? ve p.m. daily except Sunday, 2:53 pan, a. from the South vis Charlotte, Dan- ne arrive in Washington 653 am via » Bristol aud Lyuch- mand 10:40 pin; via Cl ‘and Charlottesville 6:53 am, ying-car on and information sear Sheckal st otiee, 1800 Penme #yIvania avenue, and at Passenger Siauot, iver niu Meat! Gti and Botrecte JAS. L. TAYLOR, Gen. Pass. Agent, 7 . PENNSYLVANIA ROUTE. TO THE NOKTH, WES? AND SOUTHWEST, DOUBLE TRACK. ‘SPLENDID SCENERY, STEEL BALLS.” MAGKIFICEN | EQUIPMENT. .. IN EFFECT 3 ISRO. TRAINS LEAVE WAs! 4 ‘ROM STATION, « PORNER OF SIXT® AND BSTKEETS, AB Poe: ‘ent. Limited Exprese ed Care at 9:00 am: daily , ¥ daily to Cinctanati aud St. and 7:1 route 7:13 pam. and am. Tickets estern Express, at 7:40 p + With Sleeping Cars Washineton to Chicaro and Bt Louie eure daily at Harrisburg with through Si for Louisville and Memplus. Pacific Express, 100 mi. daily. for Pittebune and the West, with {hrough ‘Sleeper to Pittsburg, and Pittsbang to ieauro. BALTIMORE AND POTOMAC RAILROAD For Kaue, Canandaigua, Kochester apd Niagara Falls Guily. Cxceyt sunday. B10 ae For Eric, Canandaigua aud Lochester duly ; for But- falo und Niagara: .ckeent Saturday, 10:00 p m... with Sleeping Vashinxton to Kochester: For a i and Flora at 9-508. fm, daily, except sunday” FOR PHILADELP RIA. NEW YORK AND 7:20, 9: 00 and 11:40 aa 10 3" OD Sauday ES af dull = ¥ bare, Oi xpress of pullman Pari Cars, 9:40 a.2n cally, except Sundsy, and’3:45 pm. “dally, with Dinu FOR PHILAD Fast Express 6:10 ‘daily. Express Car *, aud 5-10 p.m Say. y. Accom. 6 p.m oF Boston, without change, 2-50 p. m. every day. jor Brookijn, N.Y. all troukh’ trains ‘comuest at Jersey City with “boats of Brooklyn Auneg, afford- ing direct transfer to Fulton street, avoiding re actows New York city For Ocean City and Fouts on Deaware Division, 1:17 ma, Weel For Atlantic City 9:00, 12-00.and 11-40 a. m. week Ele en For 38 ALEXANDRE FREDERICKSBU WAY, AND ALEXANDRIA AND WAS! RAILWAY. IN EFFECT MAY 19, 1 For, Alexandria, 4.0, 7 2. ha, , 10-57 am. daily, and & daily, ex junday Trains leave Alexandrin'f 8:00, 9:10. 10:15, 11 5:10, 7-05, 8 Tic ner of 13th street at the station, where checking of baggage Tesidences CH. AS. E. PUGH, General Manager. Barrnworr Axv Oxro Ranzoan. Schedule in effect JUN Ss, Lesh. Leave Washington from station corner of New Jersey avenue and C «tree For Chicago anc chi dai! nF gud Ciew daily 17-20 am. express 8 40 pan. For Wheeltug, Parkersburg and princi ob main line, express daily except Monday,at 3:5 or Lexington and Local Sta For Baltumore, week days, 0, 9:30, (45 minutes}, O24 “ ©, week days, minutes), 15, 1 415, Sunday ‘at 40'clock ety STEPHENSON & BRO, mb6-6m ‘th st, wharf. FRe* orom NEW Ti FRIDAYS and SUNDAYS p. dings as fer as Nomini Creek, V and Leonardtown, Nd. Connects wi Shepherds. See schedule. JOHN ©. W, RIDLEY, Manager, fib B. PADGETT, IES WHO REQUIRE THE SERVIC! ‘emaie Ph, should consult: MESON. 1100 Park Place ues bet Baud y. Reimedy.€5. Jez: aout Prompt treatment. consulta- etn cane ae ee - EAD AND BE WISE—DR. BROTHERS, ipboared before me and made Oldest E3 JRONTS! i! FRONTS!!! thing for ‘Always in order by plain combing, 35 p.m. ik and intermediate poiuta, "8-008, >, 11120 p.m. ya's and’ intermediate stations, 17:00 p.m, am. Church train leaves Washington on Sunday at 1:15 P.m., stoppii tatious on Metropolitan Braue For Frederic! 5. 110230 am, 13:00, Th:30— between Baltimore apd 2b *6 00 fem. and am. 12:00 moo 14:00, 18:00 & x » Generel 3 \ATSKILL MOUNT Th ‘the Jerecy City Station of the Hadiroad, making close connections with MOUNTAL —Leawe oy fo]