Evening Star Newspaper, July 8, 1893, Page 7

THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON, ‘D. 0; SATURDAY, JULY 8, 1893—SIXTEEN PAGES: COMBINING COLORS. Different Shades That Blend Well With Each Other in Dress. THE MATCHING OF WHITES. Handsome Costumes Composed of Expen- sive Materials—The Modified Empire and Ite Effect—Jackets of Various Kinds—The Fashionable Surprised Expression. Bpecial Correspondence of The Evening Star. New Yorx, July 7, 1898. 4, sidered to be ruined. white, are combined, and the effect is charm- ing. Great sleeves, about the skirt are made of the one, all the rest being of the other shade. Sometimes an underdress of the cream white, made empire and low neck. has a flowing gown of blue white worn it, set very full on the band of the low neck of the under gown, across the back and under the arms and stopying, st each side of the front. Such « gown is really regal. ‘The outer satin must be very beavy and the neede pon constitution, especiaily if the latter is backed Bp by a smail pocket book. An empire dress, very handsome and com- Poved of expensive materials, is the one shown the initial illustration. The fabric used is silver grav sicilienne, and it is very tastefully trimmed with embroidered satin. This gown closes in the back and the seams under the arm are cut a trifle curved. but the stuff is quite full Doth in front and back. All the seams are garnished with strings of wax,beads. Covering the seam where the skirt Joins the bodice is » tiny girdle of sicilienne embroidered with sil! and open behind. The opening at the neck is finished with a white satin collar having arabesque insertions of lace and embroidered MODIFIED EMPIRE. with white wax beads and silver threada. Arotnd the bottom of tae skirt isa pleated edging and above tha:a band of embroidered satin. The puffed sleeves havea white satin uff embroidered like the collar. The big bow shown is of monsseline de soie. in sash width, the ends hanging nearly to the hem of the skirt. The model of the next picture can be success- fully followed in large variety of materials and trimmings, and it will prove very pretty. Though an empire dress, it is not at ali pro- nounced in style and is at once very comforta- and dressy for house wear. A pretty ma- terial would be white crape. garnished with green ribbons. ‘The seams under the arms are ut to conform to the figure and the fullness in the back and front 1 Inid in pleats. The gown hooks behind and is lined with thin «ilk. The yoke is made of embroidered and plain tulle, and if lined green silk should be used. Lining, however, is not necessary. It is ornamented with green ribbons in the manner indicated in the illustration. The bottom of the skirt is trimmed with two box pleated rufiles, each ruffle headed by a small puff. The long sleeves large empire puff.and at the wrista double rufile. For elegant summer costumes, or for those Pretty hght chemisettes which are so much ‘worn with loose jackets, nothing iy more useful than light thin silk, and fer these purposes it will be used more than ever this season. Shot and shaded materials for woolens, ribbons, straw trimmings, &c., are already very popu- Jar, and foularés, surahs and dengalines aro likewise ehaded.’ Many foulards, bordered with a design of flowers or imitation lace, are seen, while others have a small, regular design A PRETTY JACKET EFFECT. formed by the material itself, such as squares, or minute rays, at the edge.’ One silken ma- terial which is manufactured in eau de nil, rose leroy, white and straw color is especially Eoctitul’ “These different grounds ‘are cor ered with black threads about one-eight of an inch apart, brocaded with very small spots of the same color as the silk and pri ‘with a flower of which the contour and so vague that it is difficult to know by what name to call it, though in design it somewhat resembles a tiny jasmime floweret. It is quite charming. The foundation dress of the gown fn the third sketch is cut princess and is cov- ered with an over dress of figured tulle, which is fall in the back and front, but bias ‘at the sides. With it is worn a short jacket of silk trimmed with double breteiles that form a round collar in back and end in points in front. ‘The tulle, commencing when the jacket stops, is Rathered three times and meets an oblong plastron of dzaped tulle. The balloon sleeves are milk and have a narrow cuff. Another series of pretty summer silks, jinai and of an old-fashioned style pleasing to the eye, is composed of white silk with stripes of maize, mauve and green, or maize, rose and bi or, for half mourning, mauve and gray rays, chegkered with white or Diack threads, These old-fashioned materials look very well when the dress is made in a quaint, old style, but stripes and very small spots or broche flowers produce a better effect for modern costumes, and are more becoming to the figure. Taffeta, which for some time has only been used for lining, is now being manu- red in new and pretty patterns for dresses. ARELY IN THE cream white been com- bined. When it was done it was by mistake and the gown was con- Matching whites was always a difficult mat- ter and one requiring great care. Old yellow Ince could be used on white, but even then cream white and blue far bodice belt and bands \s IN GREENS AND REDS. striped and checkered with color, ean only be Ser es aetias Ree eerie? saa nizable that many will doubtless prefer to choose plain peau de soie, faille, China silk, or Diack bengaline, trimmed with cream lace in- sertion. All these materials may be made with two bodices, so that they can be serviceable for dinner or e' ing Wear. Coming to the fourth illustration, there is a simple but becoming costume for # young miss composed of dark green woolen suiting in light summer weight. The skirt is plain in the front and gathered im the back, while the top is shirred six times and finished at the lower end with a band of green velvet piped with red ben- galine. Two rows of green velvet taken bias and also piped with red bengaline run around the bottom. The waist has a pointed yoke of red and all the fullness is again shirred six times at the waist and finished with velvet as shown in the picture, the center velvet strip being hooked to the skirt occasionally to pre- vent slipping. The waist is garnished by a full rever collar of green velvet lined with red. The sleeves have a large puff of cuff trimmed with four ornamental buttons. ‘The waist closes in front. A toilet composed of copper and green changeable silk and trimmed with coru lace Ie the subject of the last picture. The skirt is of the umbreile shape and is very wide at the bot- tom, especially as the center back sean is bias. It is lined with satin stiffened with a thirty-inch strip of muslin aud trimmed inside with a pinked rufiie of silk. On the outside are two Tuffles of Ince put at some distance from each other. The lining of the round waist fastens in the center. but the right front with the draped plastron hooks at the left side beneath the road revers. ‘The latter has an insertion of lace and meets in a point in the back. On the shoulder is put a bow of Ince,he!d in place by @ knot. The sleeves are tight, with a full empire uff. The broad belt is made of folded silk, wvily whaleboned to keep it in place. THE FASHIONABLE EXPRESSION just now is the “surprised.” This is not at all the “Luby stare” that was so populara while ago. That was round-eyed and stolid; this is alert and startled, as if you had just’ stepped down out of your frame and wondered what had happened to you. The brows are lifted, the eves wide, but interested. The lips are just touched with aemile. All the muscles of the face are lifted, and, while you do not exactly smile, you have a bright look about the cheeks and corners of your mouth. It is a very dif- ficult expression to give you directions for, be- cause to miss it willsend you around with a sort of biank grin and an air of having a private joke on yourself, which may be all very BLENDED COPPER AND GREEN. well in its way, but i ised with a view to matching your style, your t or your gown, it won't be the thing at all. By the way. whether you adapt this feeling of lightness of smiie, as it were, to the surprised $kpression or not, itis x good thing to cultivate, Itkeeps the face young. All the difference in the world between a young face and an old one is the dragging down of the muscles or the lifting of them. You must not go around with a fixed gtin, of course, but keep your face feeling “tight,” the brows ready to lift and the corners of the mouth ready to smile. The ex- pression will be a very young one, and its tendency will be to keep the face from getting lines and wrinkles and a settled, old look. Saeammarap bares More Brunettes Marry than Blondes. From Gedney's Mazazine, The brunette type is becoming more numer- ous in England and on the continent gener- ally. Mr. Gladstone, who observes most things, said some years ago that light-haired people were far lew gumerous than in his youth. ‘This statement was borne out by the results of the statistical inquiry undertaden by Dr. Bed- doe, who examined 726 yomen and found that 869 were brunettes and 397 blondes. Carrying this inquiry a step further, says the New Or- leans Picayune, Dr. Beddoe learned that 73.5 percent of the branettes had husbands, while only 63 per cent of the blondes were married. From this it appears that in England a brunette hasten chances of being wedded to the nine chances of the blonde: and Dr. Beddoe went on to argue that ‘“the English are becoming darke: because the men persist in selecting the dark- haired women_as wives.” The same thing is happening in Germany, in France, in Switzer- laud and elsewbere on ine continent. ——_eo— A Culinary Triumph. From the Chicago Record. ‘We are rather sorry not to find any reference to corned beef, which we understand is an edible that finds favor with our best society here in Cook county. A recipe for the prepara- tion of this would seem to be desired, for we are told that not long ago a bride in this city sought to surprise her husband by preparing for him a dinner of boiled corn nd cab- bage, of which she knew he was very fond. It is related that when the husband tasted of the dish he paused ominously and asked his wife Rhethier she had not adulterated it in the cook- LS “Yes, Charlie.” she answered, guilelessly, “the corned beef and cabbage smelled so while | it was cooking that I dropped ins bunch of ‘tuberoses to flavor it.” ——+e0-— Life has been to the fair and seen Chicago, and he is now in a position to assert that draw- ings like the above are gross libels. } Chicago girl's foot is all right. Ass joke it has always gone into our waste-paper basket | and shall continue to do sa. THE DERBY JACKET. It fs the Satin Coat With Differences in Color. ‘The satin coat as we knew it when prices were ugh | abnormally expanded in the early days of spring was beyond the reach of the woman who could not indulge in clothes fade. For the eatin coat, ranged alongside the necessity of s flowing, Yoluminous satin or Ince cape, shrank to pre- cisely that relation toward the all-prevailing re- quirements. But time has reduced alike the cape and the cost until a biack satin jacket need not be a dream of uncompassed joys. A black satin coat, I said, for fashion has been striding along since the last discussion of this protege of hers and has evolved further the satin coat ponent eae ok commas, Si latest evoln- and highest priced This ealled thedervy Jertot borane ne iret at- tained full perfection of being on the f courses. itself to mauve, to heliotrope, to fuchsia, to Sovres blue, to grass greon, aye, to scarlet iteelf. In unavoidable sequence, more elaborate de- signs are perfected, until we are brought to the gonsidoration of special cases for descriptive lessons. Another word on the genius itself. The material may be of surah silk or taffeta if exceeding care is maintained to make of it one of the most perfect of ite kind. At a coaching party the other day was seen a tall slim woman ‘in « terra cotta derby jecket. Had she not been tail and slim and pretty sbe would not have looked well in her imported triumph. It fell from s rache and high passe- menterie collar in full plaite almost to her knees. There were two plaits each side of the hooked opening in front, and there were four THE COWBOY AS HE IS He is Not the Being Usually Pio- tured in Novela, THE FIRST PONY RACE. ‘There Was = Bet of $200,000 Pending on the Result — The Ponies Won snd Their Success Was Mainly Due to the Excellent ‘Biding of Pony Bob. —_>___. IKE THE BISON AND buffalo grass, the In- dian and his arrow, the cowboy will soon be trail was the road to wealth and the cow Puncher was head boss and advance guard and guide. A generation hence he will be a rem- P iniscenoe, and in two or more decades s creature of legendary at- tractiveness. The cowboy has played a prominent part in ‘the settlement of the great west, and how- ever undeserved, a certain flavor of brig- At the sides the satin was fitted to the | andage and a spice of diablerie will forever A TRA COTTA coat. lining, but it hung full over the hips. The sleeves were shirred and set outside the coat quaintly enough. Long points of richly shaded Passementerie stretched from the shoulders across the breast, and thus partially restrained the loosely flowi: satin. ui the cuffs of the oddly puffed sleeves was laid more passe- menterie. Tho hatwas gray straw trimmed with terra cotta flowers from some utrange THE KEYNOTE OF HATS. Bayonets of Lace and Barricades of Plumes. The hats for the seaside, the nountain heights, the stroils through sylvan meadows or along the cottage promenades are more daring than the hate of springtime in New York. They have encouraged themselves into freakish out- bursts of genius, and they will go down to their descendants as pioneers in their own field. There is no predominant type of hat; per; haps the most ubiquitous is the three-cornered marquis, aitiny, coquettish affair, with a cer- tain military swagger in ite upturned, rosptted brim. The marquises are trimmed only with ribbon of velvet rosettes and a rampant cockad or aigrette thrust in well at the side. The; are, moreover, intended to be worn as suit hats—a distinctive tion this summer, I assure you. It is quite touch to wear hate without a tint of the colors of the costume in them, oF those with feather toning with the om! oy Some hats look like y jardens of Babylon: others like old-fashioned flower pots, aud others, like theatrical i alas, rties. These, and great is thelr popularity, are the “Jewel bats,” whose central points sre huge Danbles gilttering with mock emeralds and ra- bies and heathen stonos. From thom spring airy shafts of lace or long wired points. trust like bayonets about the crown. The baubles look heavy, the lace or gauze is light and. the result is e bewilderment which fails to be clarified by « One of these creations of red straw. white lace and three gaudy buckles was tied down about the low coiled hair with broad ribbons tied close against it several inches from the neck. It would be « Pretty fashion upon @ respectable hat, would 4 MIDSUMMER HAT, it pol? Flowers are everywhere, They are tucked slyly into the denta of « crown or inside curve against the coiffare. And they nod in great atsorted bunches of marguerites and or- chids and gersniums and buttereups in front of ribbon support. Velvet, Ince and flowers are usual combination. Quills and plumes and flowers are another fashionable hit. Colorings are either very good or execrable, for they tend toward the mauves and purples, which are dan- gerous ventures, One of the prettiest midsum- mer hats is one of rose-colored straw. It is trimmed heavily with white lace, tall bows of rose and white ribbon and rose plumes lying curved upott the broad brim. ——_—+e+__. ‘The Condactor’s Large Acquaintance. ‘From the Philadelphia Inquirer. “When I was out in Chicago at the opening of the world’s fair,” said friend of mine, had occasion to make acall on some old ac- quaintances on the west side, The streete in that portion of the city had many of them the baptismal names of women, and as I lived there at one time, the calling of them by the car con- ductor sounded familiar to me, although it seemed to puzzle an old countryman on board, who was doubtless visiting Chicago for the first time. ‘There were a oumber of ladies among Passengers, andas the conductor called out ‘Elizabeth,’ the car stopped and one of them gotoff. A fe ace, further and there was the call ‘Ada,’ followed by w stop and the exit of another lady. ‘The old countryman began to look interested; and when the next call came, ‘May,’ and he saw a lady gather up her bundles and walk down the aisle, he had a puzzled air. In quick succession ‘there came “Pauline,” ‘Roberta,’ and ‘Augusta,’ followed by the de- parture of a paseenger. "The oldman could not Stand it any longer; his eyes bulged out, and, making © tush forthe platform, he said in a stage whisper to the conductor: ‘Great snakes! mister, do you know the names of all the women folks in this big town?” “He had beep under the impression that each woman who left the car answered to the name that was called out.” More in It. ‘From Truth. Herdso—“I don't know whether to be » preacher or a lawyer. Saidso—“By all moans be « lawyer.” Herdso—**Why?” Saidso—“A lawyer gets five hundred for un- } demon. tying a knot tho preacher is paid only ten for tying.” FOR DERANGED NERVOUS SYSTEM Use Horsford’s Acid Phosphate. Dr. Chas. Woodhouse, Rutland, Vt, says: “T used It considerably and cam testity to ite ‘functional of the hay value in Servous system. envelope his name and fame. A creatare of dash and daring, rudely chivalrous and reck- lessly courageous, the king of the cow trail has established a reputatian which is bound to be perpetuated in history, yot is far from rep- resenting him ashe is, The attributes of the pagan gods are no more mythical than the chapter written about the cowbuy denom- inating him as nine-tenths devil and dne-tenth It is supreme satisfaction to the friends of the cowboy to know that few of these nimble scribes ever saw a cowboy or his country, and would not recognize the real thing if presented to him on the ‘‘doad quiet.” Always picturesque if not perfect, the cow- boy is in reality an interesting study from any standpoint, and clothed, as he always is, in garb of wild west tradition, he would bee draw- ing card in any enterprise. Realizing this a has roped him in for the summer season, and having coached him in the dime novel ethics essential to the civilized concep- tion of a cow puncher his pony will paw the mimic prairie and buck in splendid imitation of the broncho in ‘Comanche Kit,” and his in- trepid and daring rider, after exploiting his staying qualities in various ways, will back off the scene of action to become as mild a man- nered @ man as ever murdered Lindley Murray or bulldozed a keep.” CHICAGO NOT THE PRAIRIE. While the actor cowboy will thus be made to do many things that no well-regulated cowboy on the range would ever think of doing, his per- formance will be no more incongruous than his surroundings. Chicago is big, butit is not allas embracing as a western prairie, and its tall buildings more nearly represent a forest than an elliptical plain. A plain whore the guze wanders on and on until it gets lost in the azure haze aud runs up against the sky shut down over the maddening undulations of desort like # blue lined bowl, «plain where you can see “fifty miles ia the clear,” and the haunting mirage brings to your door hints of habitation that are @ throe days’ dreary ride distant. Even with St Loale annexed and Illinois cyclone ‘ewopt to clear the field, Chicago could not pro- vide a stage for the cow puncher like the plains of Kansas, the plateaus of Nebraska or the “northern ranges," as the grazing ground of the Rocky Mountain region is calied. A coun- try with more square miles of territory than France, and with paltry population of 350.000 souls, ‘The theater of action of the northern cowboy comprises 200,000 square miles of un- fenced land and over it roam 2,000,000 bead of cattle. In the bit of ground staked out in Chicago some 300 cowboys are to round up, rope, brand and otherwise display the accoiplish- ments of » cowboy, as nearly as possible as he acts when on the range. 1 reality and ite Fepresentation will bear about as much relation toeach other as. paper snake to ® boa con- strictor, but as ‘num said: “The people will be humbugged,” which is a unique pseudonym for amused, In preparing for the “oow puncbers’ camp” & race is now in progress on which large stakes aro placed. ‘The cowboys, some. 800 strong, started from Chadron, Neb., and for purses of 1,500 and €500 will demonstrate the least time necessary to spend on horseback between Chad- ron, Neb., and the world’s fair in Chicago. ‘The cowboys select their own route and ride as chose, the man covering the ground first to receive first money, and he must ride into Chicago upon the _broneo of Chadron. The distance is a little over 1,000 miles. At least thirty-five miles a day must be covered. Each rider reg- isters every twenty-four hours. Only native bronchos are allowed to compete, and a full de- scription, color, brands, &c., was registered, with a photograph of the animal, before enter- ing the contest. THE VIRST LONG-DISTANCE RIDING, Long-distance riding of this kind was first practiced in the early sixties, The unrivaled fa- cilities the nation now enjoys in the way of telegraph, telephone and fast mail make it seem almost incredible that up to 1860 the only method of communication with the western haif of the continent was through slow going, heavy coaches and emigrant wagons. Con- ress empowered Maj. Sibley in 1825 to eutab- ‘& wagon road across the country from the ‘Missouri river to Santa Fe. He began his sur- vey at Indeperdence, Mo., and continued it through Kansas and on to Sauta Fe, N. ML, » distance of nearly 900 miles. Over this trail, and new ones that were laid out later in the century. all the freighting for tho western forts was done, all the mails and dispatches carried, A for there were lurking redskins to dodge at every mile of the trip, swift-running rivers to ford, great mountains to cross, forests to thread and prairie fires to encounter, to say nothing of boasts of prey and warring elements. No description ever printed with types can describe this country as Long- fellow saw it with the eyes of Gabriol when he crossed the prairie ocean after being driven from Acadia. “*Far in the west there lies » desert land, where the ‘mountains ‘Lift through perpetual snows their lofty and Jumin- Co eS with sands and rocks, and ewept by th. rind ‘Of the desert, ‘Numberiess torrents, with ceaseless sound descend to Spreading between theve streams vrata Drairles, are the wondrous, lowy bare of Krass, ever rolling in shadow and inshibe, Bright with fixuriant clusters of roses and purple ‘amorpleas Over them wandered the buffalo herds, and the elk and the roe buck : Over them wandered the wolves and herds of rider- loan 3 Over them wander the scattered tribes of Ishmael’s ehildron, Staining the ‘desert with blood, and above their ter- ible war trails Circles and satis aloft, on pinions majestic, the vul- ee Se Se ee Here and there rises smoke from the camps of these savage marauders; Here fan fore rise xroves from the margins of swift- And the zrim, teciturn bear, anchorite monk of the Climbs down their dark ravines to dig for roots by the And over all is the sky, the clear and crystalline ‘heaven. * ‘THE PONY EXPREss, ‘Through scenes like these the first overland trail wore laid and the mails taken by slow wagon trains across the country. In 1860,after Jong talk and much figuring, » “pony express” was established. It was for the sole purpose of carrying light mail and important matter of email weight, and was considered s wonderful innovation. "The mail carriers traveled upon horseback and were relay stations every dozen miles or a little more, where horses were exchanged for fresh ones.’ The route was at that time extended to Folsom, Cal., a distance of 2,000 miles, and from there the mail was car- tied to San Francisco by boat. It takes two cents now to carry a half ounce of letter to any part of the United States. In 1860 the postage on aletter from New York city to San Francisco was an even $5 in gold, a rate that would rapidly lower the “gold reserve" in the treasury if the government mails and dis- patches of today had to. be transported in the fame slow and costly fashion. The portage stamp was not unlike the Columbian stamp in dimensions, and instead of setting forth the familiar face of an eminent statesman or father of his country, it mirrored s pony ina dead run,with his rider expressing haste in every line of his anatomy, which was clothed in regular frontier style. ' Letters carried thus despite the heavy postage were written upon the thinnest of paper and only two or three sheets permitted to be sent in one eavelope, About two woeks after this ex] Shecane oe macbnebed foot aa nes i the question as to how hag it take ty to cover the 2,000 miles, The company said it “Say, governor,” be said at turning | Isknddered asT thought of the number of could cover it in ten days. ‘There were a great B A R K E R RY round to me, “what's it all about?” trains Lhad been dragged into by the many people who scoffed such an ides, and the “Hush!” I eaid. “You will find the motive | all though Barker's idea of the period of ‘aah, whieh ta besters perishes at thet, the “Hs made’ some pity BH Tide remarhe t0| Dee a the esa tan places « in some ut rai “But all the trip could not be made in thattime. President | From All the Year Round. the effect that he'd be dashed it a drama which | closed,” Lobjecto = yd Lincoln had just been elected and the wager THINK I MAYSAFELY | hed to be explained on the program would go| “Oh! forated buns,” retorted was accep’ Bb ng 8 penne teary oo it eay that Barker has been | down on his side the water, and then opened a | Barker. “ite my barteaag meee, Mise agreeing to put the election returns ‘an- the bane of my exist-| Tuning fire of » but forcible, criticism | Bell graciously consents, we will to- nounoement of Mr. Lincoln's election into of what was said and done on the stage. Ashe | night on something stronger than a perfor- Folsom, Cal., inside of ten days or forfeit ence. We were at school | turned to me every time he spoke I thought tho’ The Gargantuan is just oppo- $200,000. The entire route was cut up into together, and he made | people around would begin to imagine that I | site.” divisions of from 100 to 190 miles each and = me break the rules so| sympathized with him, so I lent him my opera | It was not Barker's birthday, unless he had rider hired foreach run. The horses that were often that I was never | glasses to keep him quiet. one in March as weil as August. and though the ridden were tough plains-bred horses free from punishment | ,. “Ob,crickey! heexclaimedin what, onhisside | « staan” was just opposite, Ido not known as m One of the survivors of the water, no doubt, passes for a confidential | prove of that Inxurious restaurant. It is ‘that memorable trip wasa few years ago @ resi- or ever able to come! whisper. “Look at the old geeser in that box. , of course—but—but i, I dent of Chicago and known to everybody in within measurable dis | Disgracefal, I oall it, and at her age, too, | don't itis exactly suited to people of limited, the business world as Robert H. y and tance of the height of | Just take a squint, governor.” if sufficient, incomes and quict tastes, especially very few knew that among frontiersmen ‘thirty years ago he answered to the title “Pony Bob,”” Zod all because of that perilous first ride as one of the relays on the most dangerous divi- sion of the whole route. “Pony Bob” and Buffalo Bill, who in polite literature figures as Col, William Cody, were in- separable companions for over twenty years. As scouts and gnides they passed through many trying ‘scenes together, and the story of this mad ride of “Pony Bob's” was always re- lated with a great deal of pride by Buffalo Bill. One night out in Kansas a number of years ago Buffalo Bill was being entertained by alot of his old-time friends, among them some of the Sante Fe railroad men, who were boasting of the quick time their trains made between the ‘Missouri river and the Golden Gate, which ‘‘re- minded Buffalo Bill of « story,” thing not hard to do, for his experience ‘had been wide enough to furnish him an inexhaustible fund of stories. BUFFALO BILL'S STORY OF PONT BOB. “Your fast express isn’t a corker to the first express that went over your line in 1960,” said Col. Cody—the railroad eventually followed almost exactly that surveyed overland route— “anda friend of mine, Bob Haslam, got the sobriquet ‘Pony Bob’ for riding a relay on the Toute and winning for his company €200,000. Pony Bob picked up the mail at a called mith’ It was then in Utah, but when the lines were changed it threw the place into Nevada. Theend of hie relay was at Fort Churchill on the Carson river, a post estab- lished a short time before for the purpose of holding the Piute Indians in check. The dis- tance between the two points was 120 miles, and Pony Bob covered it in eight hours and ten minutes. It took hard riding toaccomplish the feat and not many men had strength of urance to atand it. “Bob offered his services for the hardest relay and the most dangerous © | on the route, and when the contract had been made the company said that they would only stipulate for t first ride that the Ti ‘get there.’ and they didn't care how. Bob was young, only about twenty, and care free as a kitten and anxious to win. He knew that if any accident should happen to ‘any one of the boys along the line it would uj set the whole route, so that a rider needed ‘be courageous and skilifal as well as a rapid and enduring rider. He started out on a wiry little mustang and had made twenty miles in splendid shape. At that point he entered a belt of timber, which he was familiar with, and made for a spring insideamong the trees, ‘#here he watered his horse. Just as he em from the timber he ran upon three painted Piutes, who were coming along in a dog trot, intent upon seeking the same spring. “Pony Bob and the Piutes sighted each other in the same instant. Bob turned quick as a flash and yelled back into the woods as though summoning invineible legions, A CLEVER RUSE. “Come a runi boys, here's alot of red- akins,’ and dashed away. “The Piutes stampeded at once, but looking back presently and seeing but one man, lashing his Pony into « mad run. turned back ands race for life began. They were armed only with arrows, but they got close enough to do good | 4 execution with those, and one of the first fired struck Bob's horse in the knee and tumbled him. As the mustang went down, Bob slid over | !* behind bim and from the breastworks he made drew a bead on one of the painted devils, and aa the short rifle spoke, the redskin bit the dust. ‘The other twoebarged upon him. Bob emptied the other barrel of his rifle, tumbling another Indian, then flung the empty gan aside and jerked his pistol. The third Indian was within ten feet of him when a shot from Bol brought him to the ground dead. He moment, but as he didn’t glimpse any more red- skins in the landscape he managed to catch one of the Indian ponies, Then he shot bis mus- tang to free it from misery, changed saddles, transferred his mail pouches and again set out, not quite so brash and decidedly shaken up, yet behind only ten minutes because of the lit- Ue scrimmage. The schedule laid out by the company gave him ten hours to make nis divi- sion in, but he was anxious to shorten the time if possible, so as to give the extra moments to the next rider, and pushed on at a good pace. “He had no further trouble till just about twenty-five miles from the fort, his last station. He had just forded an invignificant stream and was threading a narrow gorge which formed through the hills when the whirr as of » itd wing eang clow to" hin ear and an arrow went ping! as it struck against the rocks beyond his head. The gorge was narrow, the trail rough. On one side the rocks rose about fifty feet, shelving out at the top; on the other wid there was. gradual slope back. The arrows struck in the sloping bauk, #0 he knew the In- dians were on the high side and crowded his pony under the shelf till he could think an in- stant. He had to think quick, and in fact there was but one thing to do. The shelving bank was too high to climb; he could only dash straight ahead over the big bowlders and crevices that lined the bottom of the gorge. The opening from the gorge was yet haifa mile distant, and half way between Bob and that much-to-be-desired goal was a deep ravine which intersected the gorge. The Indiaus made for that ravine, hoping to catch Bob at short range as he passed the opening where it crossed the gorge. The path through the gorge smoothed as it reached the ravine, and dodging the arrows fired at him from the Indians, who remained on the banks above. Bob urged the pony into a killing pace ax he neared the ravine past which he had to make the real dash for le. A LEAP FOR LIFE. “Just ashe reached it he saw that a gully nearly three fect wide and as many feet deep had been washed in the ravine. Over this the pony must jump or the lives of both would pay the penalty. Quick as the thought came he jabbed his spurs into the mustang’s eweating sides and cut him with his quirt, und the brute responded by flying into the air and clearing the guily in a splendid leap. The jump brought Bob abreast of the Indians, who were skulking in the ravine just back of where it crossed into the gorge, and they let fly a vicious shower of arrows, One cut Bob on the chin, two of them plowed farrows in the flanks of his pony and a third buried itself in his saddle bags. That one he carried away as a memento. In two minutes more he was out of the gorge on the open plateau and safe, for his next station was insight. He got » fresh. pony and cleared the last ten miles to the fort without incident or accident, having one hour and fifty minutes to spare on the schedule time of thecompany. In riding the 120 miles ho changed horses twolve times and lulled two ponies, the one that the Piutes wounded and the pony that he rode through the gorge. The arrow wounds and hard riding Inid it out. The dispatches and letters announcing the election of Mr. Lincoln reached Folsom in nine days and seventeen hours from St. Joseph, Mo., leaving the company seven hours , to spare for the winning of that $200,000, which they always said was won for them’ by my friend ‘Pony Bob.’ Taking everything into consid- eration that was the best timo ever made in crossing the continent,” and there was nobody in the crowd who appeared inclined to dispute Col, Cody's assertion, and the boastful Santa Fe man secmed to think that some ‘extra dry” ‘was necessary to adjust all grievance . Isaper WoneLt Bani. ee “Please Pass Jane,” From the San Francisco Examiner. Senator Stanford once had in his employ an old servant named Jane Wallace After being with his family a number of years, she had saved some money and went back to her old home in New York. But the climate did not agree with her. The doctors told her that if she came back to California she would get well. So she wrote to her old employer and asked him to furnish her with transportation, Without thinking much about it, but ready to oblige his old servant, he wrote on a sheet of note paper, “Please pass Jane from New York to San Francisco, ned it and sent it to her. Jane never stopped to think of the peculiar | form of the pass or that it might not be recog- nized by some of the railways over which she was to travel. She knew that her old master owned two or three railroads, and she had an idea that he owned one all the way to New York. So she got on the train, and when the conductor came around hauded’ out the slip of paper: He looked at it, then at her and didn’t now what to do. ‘There was Leland Stanford's signature, and he didn't like to dishonor that. So he telegraphed for instructions, and his su- periors told him to send the woman right ‘tygough, and she came. ‘WHISKERS that are cheer @ray or faded look of howl be colored to prevent the nf age, and juckingham’s Dye excels all others brown or black.” ae may ambition—the good- conduct prize. WhenI remonstrated with him he said it did not matter, only muffs ever got a conduct prize; but it did matter. My aunt had promised to give mea sovereign the first time T brought home a prize, and, thanks to Barker, she has that sovereign still. Later in life we found ourselves in the same office in the city. Barker attached himeelf to me on the strength of our old school fellowship and again made my life miserable. He is a buraptious, self-assertive, healthy, athletic sort of a man, is Barker, while I am nervous. He forced himself ‘me, and thea did the most reckless things imable with- outa thought of what the juences might be. He would, even without a ticket, enter a train in motion sooner than miss it, and, what was worse, if I was with him he would drag me in after him. If I ventured to hint that we were breaking the by-laws and might be sum- moned he laughed and said it would be all right. According to Barker whatever he did that he should not have done would be all right —and I must say he was lucky. The ticket collectors always took his word and his money without even hinting that he had beon trying to defraud the company, and porters have actually aided and abetted him by opening doors and saying, “Come along, sir,” on they ought to have stopped him—but, , Barker always tips porters. He had a tandem tricycle. too, and he made me go for rides on it with him. "As soon as we were out of town he didn’t care much what he did. If we passed a nice park or a wood, he would propose that we should turn in and have a smoke, and when I pointed out that there was a board up threatoning trespassers with prose- cution, he would lat Jett, the lamp would be all right. v8 bebind, assuring me that we should be bac before dark, but we never were, and for the last mile or se I used to ride aol trembling, though we were never stop believe Barker bribed the police. Luckily, I consulted my doctor about tri- cycling and he said I was too nervous for it, oo Barker hed $0 find another victim. Jot a lawn tennis club—Barker said tennis was ail right when men played alone, but that women turned it into @ babies’ game, so I thought I should be free from him ey thro that I became engaged to Sop! fe ba been engaged some time when we had a little discussion about going to the theater, which led to—but you will see what it led to if you read to tho end; so, without further explanation, I will reproduce as much of it as concerns my story. ‘Heal , Algernon, I don't much care about going at all,” said pees but there were tears in her eyes as sho spoke, and I knew that she did care, therefore I firmly but mildly insisted ‘hat is nonsense,” I said. “Youknow you been looking forward to it for months, Three weeks ‘ago you asked me whether I had * she began, and stopped. Then, spparently recognizing’ how. foolish sho had been, she sighed and added: *’Nover mind, Tit go if you wish it.” ‘Or course, I wish to give really “Oh! for goodness sake, don't begin all that over azain,” she interrupted, speaking with a tartness that surprised me. “It’s settled now and I will be by 6:30. Mind you're not late, sir.” “But, Sophy,” I protested. “if I come down for you it will cost me threepence each way, and, besides, there is no time. The doors open at 7:30 and we ought to be there at least threo- quarters of an bour before that. Suppose you meet me in front of St. Paul’sat6. We can easily walk from there.” She gave me a giance, the meaning of which I could not fathom, then sighed again, and ‘aid she would be Texplained to her how, by starting in’ time and walking part Phileas me @ penny in "bus fare, 1 pleasure, "tas gallery tu the manner. As I walked home I thought that I ‘Thad made a mistake in ever taking’ iy to the have done so, but, when wo were first engaged, man who owed mouey to our firm had some- times given me orders. ‘They were always for two, and it had seemed a pity not to use of them, but, unfortunately, I never told Sophy that I did not pay for our places, and when that man died suddenly I found myself pisdged, on the strength of promise from fim, to tako hor to soo “Gentle Gladys” at tho frreproachable. Our engagement bad reached the practically sentimental stage when mone; saved should mean furniture bought, and hoped she would cordially fall in with my sug- gestion that on this occasion we should go to the gallery. She disappointed me. Iam not » mean man, Dat I'do object to paring eight shillings when you can get pi ly the same article for two, and I could not make y understand that the gallery is, practically, just the same as the upper circle. She said’ she thought T could afford something better, and though I told ier it was not a question of what I could afford, but of where we should get the bert value for money, she maintained that looking at the mat- ter in tht light took all the pleasure out of t— which is absurd, for what can be more exhila- rating than the thought that you have made a Detter bargain In amusement than your ueigh- OF It was this tendency toward obliquity of economic vision which made me sorry I had accustomed her to think I was in the habit of spending money unnecessarily, and I wished I bad ut least told her about those orders. It was too Inte, however, to do that now, so I met her outside St. Pa per arrangement, hop- ing that practical experience of the guliery would convince her that, considering everything, gapecially prices, it was the best part of ths \ouse. ‘The usual frequenters of the Irrepronchable gallery are as respectable as the theater itself, which, of course, is saying a great deal, but that ovening, unfortunately, an Objectionable Character had thrust himself in among them, probably by mistake, and, still more un- fortunately, he sat just in front of us. We had very good places in the middle of the sec- ond row, and, as T told Sophy, we ought to en- Joy ourselves thoroughly if we could manage Reucaies our ‘dierepttable neighbor. Unfortunately again, he would not allow him- self to be ign T believe he meant. well, too, and have no doubt he was considered by mah usual ‘Tween the very pink of politeness. He bad shrimps in a paper bag, Sranges, in one pocket, nate in another ei either chocolate or chewing tobacco—perhaps both—in « third, and during the balf hour that elapsed before the curtain went up he not only refreshed himeelf with these delicacies, but generously offered them to his neighbors. T think that if Sophy hed taken ‘a shrimp, or even a nut, much of the unpleasantness which followed might have been averted, but sbe re- fused his kind offers in her most icy tone, aud the two girls who sat next to him followed hor example. Tt was easy to sen that the Character resented this; in fact, ho scowied so diubolically that | when he produced s flask of rum and offered it tome I took asip for the sake of peace and quietness. “Pasa it to the lady, governor,” he said as I was about to return it to him. “Perhaps it is more in her line than shrimpees.” Teay ts a total ab- “Iam sorry to say the stainer,”’ I replied, doing my best to conciliate him with a smile. “Poor thing!” he retorted. “Is she, really? She don't look it, either, doshe?" here?” I asked, astonished. where to get away from that horrid wretch,” she replied, “unless you can Protect me from is imperti pertinence.’ Would you believe that, because I tried to contince her of the utter folly of leaving before ® performance you bavo paid to see has even an, and also begged her not to make a scene, she afterward said I had allowed her to ited without resenting it. T objected to the fellow quite as much as she did, but what could I have done? If I had told him to hold his tongue he would probably have sworn at mo.and we should have had everybody ring at us. If I had called the attendant there would bave been row, which, perhaps, might have ended in a visit to @ police court, and a visit to's police court, even as a witness, always costs money or business time, which is the same thing. Luckily Just then the curtain went up, and for a short time the Objectionable One became absorbed in the play. It soon became clear, however, that he had not been educsted up to the Irrey ble standard. He yawned and sproachal an to fidget, in spite of the in sites devobes cactah diner bias Barker. “Hullo! Swaddle,” ho said, coming from be- hind somewhere and appropriating the tempo- rarily vacant place in tof me, “What are you doing here?” Wherever I moot Barker be asks me what gm doing there, in a tone which implice that ve no “Ab! Miss Bell,” he said, treating Sophy tos. stare which began in curiosity and ended in ad- i “T haven't the pleasure, Ifear. In- troduce me, Swaddle, my boy.” <2}, introduced him —what else could I do?— and I hoped Sophy would snub him, but again she disappointed me. “I have often heard of you, Mr. Barker,” she smiling upon him most graciously. ‘othing to my disadvantage, I hope?” he replied, laughing, as if he thought that very — remark concealed an excellent joke. Barker always laughed at his own jokes, and they wore generally very well concealed. “Not at all,” said Sophy. ‘Algerno: always spoken so highly of you that I been quite anzious to make your acquaint ance.” How easy it is be deceived in awoman! How could she have been anxious to make his gc- quaintance after the about him? And yet, ‘up to that moment I had a bas have I bad told her | vestibule are about to marry. Tes again. I didn't enjoy my supper a bit. We steak and bitter beer, and’ I won how’ Rarker dare order each’ simple fare from such @ waiter in euch a gorgeous saloon. I was sure that waiter and some of the too, were laughing at us because we were not in ev drew. Of course, it wasn't done rening openly. Waiters seem to know by instinct tbat Barker will tip them, and our msn was out wardly most polite, but I doubted his sincerity, y ton balan badly, or perhaps i should ‘say foolishly. Evidently unconscious of the ridiculous figu: ughed to 7 she said, “don't you think rnon is painfully shy?” Was sure tho waiter heard that, soT blushed ‘and looked at her reproachfully, but without effect. The thoughtless girl Joined forces with Barker and they teased me fil I could hardly I hate at I 1 ere iosts eeoes sharp we always thought sincerity was one of Sophy’s | bir. greatest charms, “Swaddle, you area sly, sly dog,” said Barker, chuckling idictically. “Do you know, Miss Bell, that until this moment I was ignorant of your very existence.” “Tam not surprised to hear it, Mr. Barker,” retorted Sophy, tossing her head. “Algernon 1s not at all proud of me, I can assure you.” A more unfounded accusatioon never pro- ceeded from a woman's lips, yet I could not refute it without laying myself open to an equally groundless charge of jealousy. had not told Barker of my engagement, it is true, but that was because he is such an’ in- terfering “Ah! he would have said, “Tmust know the little girl, Swaddle. Tos | i08 mustsettledown somewherenear my diggings 80 that Ican look you up in the evening. I know the very house to suit you. Where are you busing your furniture? I know « id and soon. Indeed, he would have mademe play second fiddle at my very wedding if be had been asked to it, and surely it is not jealousy to object to that They both looked at meas if they an explanation, but as I could not tell my reasons for reticence wasan awkward wuse in the conversation. I felt that Barker once more placed me in « false position, and when I feel that Iam ina false position I always blush, and often say something which on saved me by coming beck to claim hie seat, According to the etiquette prevailing in gal- lerios Barker should have yielded it to him, and perhaps be would have done so had not Sophy told him in a whisper to stay where he was. “"Ere, governor,” said the Objectionable Cate kemaseacaal ot conciliatory, must b, was mi a and Barker is a man who must be treated to an ell of conciliation before he will yield ap tuch of concession. “Is it?” ho asked. “Iwas under the impres- sion that, like the rest of the theater, it be- to Mr. Crummles Delawnay.” «Was you?” sneered the other. “Well, T'was e-sitting in it, anyway, during the whole of the first act; I appeal to this lady and gentieman if I wasn’ Barker made no reply, but beckoned the at- tendant. “Are these seats reserved?” he asked calmly. “Well, no, sir,” replied the man. “Not strictly ‘speaking, they're not, But when » gent goes out for a aes a air or what not, it ain't considered ing to jum in his place in his absence.” é “Never mind about that,” said Barker. “Is the right to find it empty when he returns in- cluded in the of admission?” “No, sir,” admitted the attendant. “Not the right exactly, but—" “That will do, thank you,” said Barker, coolly sitting down again. “Ere. I " grumbled the ocen- ier, good eno’ you know. ‘ou'rea precious sight too big ‘and ugly for there to be any sense in me talking of chucking you out, but if—” “Now, look here,” said Barker, turning around, “if you had asked me civilly to move would have done so with pleasure, but you didn't, oT won't. Stop. Don't use’ bad inne this, and think guage before ladies, bat take yourself lucky to get it.” “This” was a shilling, and the Character took it and departed, muttering some nonsense about being glad to find that, after all, the gent was a gent, and knew how to behave as such. ‘The people round about laughed, and seemed to think Barker had. done something ‘clever though where the cleverness came in I failed to perceive. Any one can bribe a lout, but if Sophy had seconded my policy of nm ashe ought to have done, there would have been no need to waste money or make our- selves conspicuous, Of course we were conspicuous after that altercation, which, as Barker was concerned in it, had not, you may be sure, been carried on in wi Everybody stared at us or I thought they did, which, as feras destroying my comfort went, came to the same Barker, too, behaved dii throughout the rest of the performance. He did his best to flirt with Sophy, who, however, did not en- courage him, but though she kept saying, “Don't, Mr. Barker,” “You shouldn't say things,” and, “Do be quiet,” he wont on saying ings. he wouldn't be quiet. He talked to the girls next to him, whom I am sure be had never seen before, and they had so plainly resented the advances of the Objectionable Character idn't seem to mind Barker a bit, while even the devotecs, asI have called them, emiled indulgentiy at him when be made fun of the play. How is it that Barker can do such things with impunity? If I had talked to those girls, which of course I would not have done without an in- troduction, they would probably have snubbed me, and if they hadn't Sophy would have been vexed, yet she simply beamed on Barker. As for the other , they would have told me they had paid to listen to the actors, or some- thing equally cutting. vet they let Barker chat- ter on without a murmur. How is it, I say? Bat to ‘The drama dragged itself to anend at last, The educationally acquired gentleness of Gladys proved too weak to with- stand her nataral tendency to homicidal mania inherited from her maternal great z who once, when in liquor, shot a man of the Barker species. She killed all her husbands— she had three, I think—and most of her chil- dren, and was led off to durance more or less vile, while the few surviving characters shook their heads and sighed. Then the curtain went down and we went out, to catch, as I thought, "bus for our suburb, but I reckoned without ! yes, Algernon, please. Iam so hungry,” exclaimed Sophy, who always was inclined to speak impulsively. “My dear,” I remonstrated, “there is no time. The iast "bus leaves St. Paul's church- yard at 1 “St. Paul's churchyard!” broke in Barker in his overbearing way. “What on esrth is tho man talking about? Your "busses pass this cor- ner.” “Oh! Mr. Barker. Don’t you know we save a pennyeach by walking to St. Paul's?” said Sophy, very properiy, I thought. ‘ker burst into his brutal laugh. Though xuety to save & penny is not a thing to laugh at, Iwas not surprised—st Barker—bat why did Sophy laugh, too? Really women are in- comprehensibi “Oh! bang the ex; for once,” he said. t looks: <qhorican get up here and I'll stand the extre @’ There'll be lots of time’ tae | due respect and due allowance for AT] re f I l i Hl sf i lik | : 8 i s i 3 i t te tel ; in iff f] i ff i i , i i F Ff I t i i Ht be E LH “Don't mention ‘it, Miss Bell,” he intere rupted—I think he is the rudest man I know— and they straightway got into « hsntom and left me standing there. have not seen Sophy since. She told by letter, that I had behaved like a coward, that she was very glad-she had discovered my real nature before herself to my care for life. The accusation was false, of course— I was only nervous—bat I did not condescend 5 the bane of my existence, tho present he keeps bothering me to End bare a look at hie first and let by hate bablee-they make me nervous expe: iy when they cry—and of course I shall we to buy sometbing for Barker's; the sake of peace in the office 1 suppose have to go some day. Sohn Butldorer tn Beye From the Saturday Review, It may be fairly hoped that the young dive has learned something from with Lord Cromer. But still less should fidence be based on this. It should be, we think is, based on the fact that Englishmen are in Egypt, that they mean to slay there and that they have the wits and the means as well as. the resolve to carry out their intention. We may hope that the sultan will not mistake his friends for his enemies and his enemies for his friends, we may hope that the khedive will m . try to “play the young man” in defiance of his, own interests, it our trust, as distinct from our hope, is—speaking humanly, and with all Nemesis —im, 5 I ourselves,