GRAN DMA’S GINGER CAKES- . Come, my clears, and I will show you .1. How I make my ginger cakes, _ How I mix the dough together. ,: And how long the baking takes. With a quart of good molasses Mix a pound of sugar sweet, Add a pound of lard and butter- Half of each is my receipt. ._ . " Ounces two of powdered ginger. With a pinch of salt or two, Mix one egg—with flour stiffen, Roll out thin, and you are through. How to keep them when they’re finished? When they’re baked and nicely browned? Well, a good, strong lock and key, dears, Is the best thing I have found. ——Henry Lippincott. Note—The Above will make excellent old Maryland ginger cakes. WAS .HE DEGEIVED? Mr. Alpheus Monrbugh was rich and retired, but he still amused himself by dealing occasionally to keep his hand in. He was a widower with an ‘only daughter, Miss Phyllis, aged 20-a handsome blonde, who had taken up the study of science. , Phyllis had, of course, heaps of offers, eligible and otherwise, but she had not met the man whom she cared to marry, and she.had gone to Harvard with a mind fu'lly made up to devote her life to science and to abjure matri- mony. . .' But we are told that “Love laughs at locksmiths,” and, in confirmation there- of, she had not been long at Harvard when she found herself madly in love with George Stanislaus Rockerton, who was studying law there. Young Rockerton came from a good family, was rich, good looking, and in every way eligible; but when Phyllis wrote to her father informing him of her tender passion and asking his consen’: to her engagement she received a. tele- gram: “N 0. Come home at once.” Her father received her kindly, but with a firm- set countenance, which she knew from her observation of his deal- ings with others indicated that his mind was made up. and that nothing could alter it. ’ “My dear Phyllis," he said, “you can- not imagine, how it pains me to be obliged to run counter to your desires, but when I have explained matters to you, I hope you will agree with me and give up the idea of marrying this young Rocker-ton. “When I was a lad my father had a farm out West, the adjoining farm to which belonged to Ralph Rockerton, the grandfather of the young man you have met. ' ~ “I need not go into details; it will suffice for you to know that my father and old Rockerton had a bitter quarrel, and that a feud arose between the two families which can never be healed while I live.” , "But, papa, «urged Phyllis, “it is a very long time ago, and I don’t think that a quarrel between my grandfather and his grandfather should be any rea- son why Geo—I mean Mr. Rockerton—— _ should not be a good husband to me. He ' he replied. is rich. I've always done as you wished, and now, when I feel that my life’s happiness is at stake, you make this stupid objection.” “It’s of no use to discuss it,” he re- plied, “my mind is irrevocably made up. But I may say that, as was com- mon in those days, the quarrel led to fighting, and until your grandfather’s death, which happened about two years afterward, every member of either family took every opportunity to take the life of some member of the other. After father’s death we sold the farm and came .East, and so the enmity ceased actively ;' but I could never con- sent to your marrying into that hated family—never !” "But, papa,” insisted the girl. “What was it about? What led to the quar- rel?" “It was about a stream, my dear, which ran between the two estates. Old Rockerton insisted that the water was all on his land, whereas it was the boundary. and we had the right on'one side of the stream and he on the other.” , “Well, just one question, father,” asked Phyllis, with an eye to fu- ture contingencies. "Was any one kill???" - “ o; no one was killed,” answered Mr. Monrough, “but your grandfather was shot in the arm, and I will never forgive them—never!” ' CHAPTER II. It soon became evident to Mr. Mon‘ rough that Phyllis was really fretting and making herself ill about “that confounded fellow Rockerton,” as he said to himself. He wasa man of action and determined to give her a thorough change. '. “ hyllis, my girl,” he said the next , morning at breakfast, “how would you like to go to England for a short while?” . “Oh, papa!” she exclaimed, with the ' most brilliant look on her face that he had seen'there for a long time, “that would be delightful. You know I al- ways wanted to go across and see the Old World. But can you spare the time?” “Well, no, my girl, I can’t just now,” here for a time, as I have a speculation on which requires my presence on the spot, but Mrs. Lakering is going over by the next Cunarder, and she would cha- perone you to your uncle’s in Manches- ter, where you' could stay and amuse yourself till I arrived.” So it was settled; and. the following week Phyllis (having first informed young Rockerton) stepped on board the mail steamship under the care of her lady friend, and in due course arrived at her uncle’s place in Manchester. She was affectionately received by her English relatives, the Spanders,‘ and in her new surroundings she soon resumed her old healthy looks, and, as j Mr. Spander wrote to Mr. Monrough, ' .her love affair.” “she seemed to have entirely forgotten _ She also. of course. frequentlv wrote ' consent. “1 am obligedto remain. ".'/‘.,»'.'jl 2. ,. ’1"~ _ , . , ‘.. [WEE to her father. - In one of her letters she _ said: “I am awfully comfortable here. Everybody seems to do everything pos- sible to make me happy. Uncle Thom- as's son George is at home from the university, where he is‘studying for the church. He seems a ver nice young man. not at all solemn, as one would think, and he plays tennis lovely. He returns to Cambridge tomorrow.” . “Um !” reflected d Monrough, as he read this letter. “ hat’s more like it, now. But I’d rather she didn’t marry a parscn. Still, if they knock their heads together, I will not stand in their way.” ‘ Phyllis had been in England for two months and everything had settled down quietly, when Mr. Monrough was electrified one morning to receive a ca- blegram from her: ‘ “George has come all the way from Cambridge. Wants to marry me im- mediately. Do consent and make me happy. PHYLLIS.” “Well this beats cock fighting,” mur- mured Mr. Monrough, as he stared at the message. “He. must have fallen very deeply in love with her indeed. 011, I consent, but how about the set- tlement? I suppose that Tom Spander reckons on me doing what is right, and so I will.” And he sent this reply telegram: “Don’t understand the hurry, but I Am very pleased. Wish every happiness. Cannot leave here for a month. Tell uncle I will arrange handsomely. MONROUGH.” CHAPTER III. Ten days after this message, on the morning of the arrival of the Cunard steamship at New York, Mr. Mon-,1 rough was sitting in his private office when the door opened and in walked his daughter, leaning on the arm of her husband. The old man jumped up. “Well, this is a surprise I” he said. “What on earth made you in such a hurry to get married? Ah, well, I was young myself once, and I know when I fell in love, with your mother I was in a deuce of a hurry to have the person tie the knot.” “Oh, papa,” murmured Phyllis, as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, “it was so kind of you to give your consent. I am so happy. I thought you would, though, when you knew what a long way George had come to seek after me.” “Oh, well, I guess it’s not such a very long way after all,” replied her father. “England’s only a little place alto- gether, you know.” “Well,” said George, “that’s true; "but it’s nigh upon 4,000 miles before you get there.” The elder man stared at this observa- ‘ tion, which he couldn’t understand the application of. However, he passed it over. “Well, George, my boy,” he said, as he shook his hand in a hearty grip, “I am truly glad to have you for a son-in- law. And how’s your father?” “My father has been dead this ten years or more.” “What does this all mean?” cried Mr. Monrough in amazement. “Am I mad, or what is it? You’ve just left your father, my brother-in-law, Tom Span- der, in England, haven’t you?” Phyllis threw up her arms, and with a shriek fell down on the thickest part of the soft fur rug that lay before the fireplace, in what appeared to be a dead faint. The two men bent down at the same time to attend to her, and bumped their heads together, and everything was confusion. “My name’s not Spander,” said George, hurriedly, as he supported Phyllis. "My name’s Rockerton,'and I went all the way from Harvard Uni- versity, in Cambridge, Massachusetts, to England to secure the hand of your daughter.” The pen refuses to record Mr. Mon- rough’s iorcible language when he was thus acquainted with the fact that he had consented to his daughter’s mar- riage with the sm of his enemy; but by the time he had roared himself out of breath, he saw the futility of further opposition, and, like the good business man that he was, he veered round and met the wind as it blew. “Well, well!” he said, “I have been - But what is done cannot be 1 done. helped.” He then turned to assist Phyllis, but 7 by a strange coincidence that young ' lady had just come to, and in a burst of hysterical tears begged” forgiveness for the little “misunderstanding.” "I forgive you, you little witch!” her father cried. “But I have my suspicions about the ‘misunderstanding.’ ” And Mr. Monrough was never able to decide in his own mind whether it was accidental or of malice prepense on Phyllis’s part that the misunderstand- ing occurred“ He has on several occa- sions tackled his daughter on the sub- ject, but she has always managed most skillfully to evade the question, and as she and her" husband are the happiest couple imaginable, and George is not such a bad chap, after all, Mr. Mon- rough has long since ceased to inquire into it, and has also, of course, buried the hatchet with the Rockerton family. —-Tit-Bits. Etiqpette on Envelopes. Among the punctillious members of the fashionable set it is considered inele- gant to address a letter toa married woman, using simply the initia: of her husband. “Mrs. A Jenkins” is voted “common,” bad form. The envelope should 'be super-scribed “Mrs. Alfred Jenkins.” If there are two Christian names they should be written in full. The reason many of the announcements of openings and so forth from all the world of trade are thrown into the waste basket without being especially noticed is that the superscription on the envelope is generally in the foregoing style frowned down upon, and betrays immediately that the misslvc is from the world of trade. 3.. «." ,’,. _ 3 THE HAPPIEST HEART. 3‘...» “'ho drives the horses of the sun Shall lord it but a day: Better the lowly deed were d one, And kept the humble way. The rust will find the sword of fame: The dust will hide the crown;- Aye. none shall nail so high his name Time will not tear it down. Thc’ happiest heart that ever beat Was in some quiet breast , That found the common dayllgnt sweet ‘ And left to heaven the rest. - John Vance Cheney in Washington Star. WON BY STRATEGY. A bicycle stood leaning heavily against its stand as , if worn out from long, tedious waiting for its mistress. A rustle, as of silk lined hair cloth was heard on the cellar stairs. It was she, its dauntless rider. Sho rested her fingers on its beloved saddle and brushed the dust from their pink tips, the dust of a long week’s rest, a week of ideal bicycling weather. A dainty handkerchief hid her great blue eyes, and She burst into a flood of tears. A loud clang, clang of the door bell startled these tears away. She knew that ring. All dishevelled and dusty, she rushed into the drawing room. She met her lover like a moody cherub. He looked at her for a moment, standing with his legs wide apart. his hands in his pockets and a forgotten hat on the back of his head, heaved a sigh of res- ignation and said disgustedly: “I see, my poor little girl, that this confounded bicycle question is on top again.” “Do you know, Eleanor, that I know a fine fellow who wants a bicycle just like yours so everlastingly bad that he would be willing to givea thousand dol- lars cash for it if he could have it with in an hour.” “George! You shall not havc'my dear wheel to smash into splinters. If you yourself had ever ridden you would advocate it for everybody. It is stub- born and narrow that you will not learn. Your prejudice is making a heartless fellow of you. It shall be crushed at once; I am determined. Can’t you see I am determined?” Her hands were clasped tightly. She shivered slightly, and her voice was tense as she continued with white teeth set: : “I shall 'ride to moi‘row to Chevy Chase Inn. I start at noon exactly. You may start on awheel at 11. If you reach the Inn before I do we will be married soon, if not—never!” The last word was called from the call. The speaker was gone. The man turned pale. He was not a student of women’s whims, and he was deeply in love. He put a hand to his head and was dimly conscious of won- : dering whether it was his hand or some . other fellow’s. He sat down [on the corner of a card table because it happened to be behind him, and said out loud, “I will think.” Three minutes later he arose and said, “I will think.” He walked through the hall and out into the air, forgetting his cane, his overcoat, and the violets he had brought Eleanor. As the front door closed be- hind him with a bang it startled him as it might a sleep walker. He walked down Connecticut avenue hardly realizing where he was. Soon his eyes, which had not distin~ guished the passers-by, seemed rivited on a sign that seemed to scream at him: “Bicycling Academy.” ‘ It drew him to the spot as if by mag- netism. He entered the door and look- ed blankly at the man at the desk, laid down a bill which made the fellow stare, refused the change, and asked to be taught at once. An attendant brought him a wheel. The cold glitter of its nickel plating fill- ed his whole being with determination. He waived the teacher aside and mount- ed with the spring of a kangaroo. The bicycle headed straight as a die for the brick partition. When within a yard of it he lifted his long limbs above the handle bar and met the wallwit‘i the bottom of two substantial feet. He was shot back some distance and then off. i . The instructor asked him if he ' thought he was riding a battering ram . or a boomerang. The lover did not smile. The instructor then asked him for the address of his doctor. bet on Sixteenth street. Eleanor’s home. That was had lengthened into darkness, and he was riding beautifully around the cir- cle with his handkerchief bound tightly around his head and the teacher’s arm about his waist. If Eleanor could see himIHe felt himself victor over a fiend. The next morning at 10:59 he left his door. The day was perfect. He. felt the exhilaration of success and a resistles's force of resolution. He leaned over the handle bar and sped rapidly ‘ over the asphalt. He panted and pu‘sed up the hills and coasted down over bridges and .past the Zoo. His one thought was to make the wheels gc round, to cover space, , Slowly the idea began to force itself upon him that something was wrong with the wheel. He thought it must need oiling, such terrible pain and weakness did attack his limbs when he tried to force the pedals around, and his head grew light and dizzy. He thought to dismount, but rolled ofi instead. He tried to take a step to straighten .his limbs; they refused to be straightened; on his knees as if in supplication to Cu pid to cease from his torture. He lay on the ground for a moment in order that the dizziness might pass away. He ust have lost consciOusness for a moment, for suddenly he felt a hand on his head, and the gruff voice of a mo torman asked: “Are you all broke up, old man? Den’t you want a lift?” These accents were as sweet to his eers as the murinuring of a siren. He gave a num-_ Before he left the school the shadows they gave way beneath him, and he fell - ;, > r. ft"; He was sorely tempted and yielded. He allowed his bicycle to be lifted on the car and himself to be assisted to a seat which was not a saddle, while he. constantly whispered to his conscience; "All is fair in love and war.” He closed his eyes and half dreamed and half thought that he was waft-- ed along on fleecy clouds. Suddenly a thought struck him like a. lightning bolt. “Eleanor!” ‘- Might she not see him alighting from the car. Was he to be branded in her eyes as a cowardly - cheat? He snatched at his watch and dragged himself to the end of the car and tried with his eyes to pierce the solid hills, in order to gain the first dreaded glimpse of his darling who rode like the wind on her metal steed. He saw for ten minutes only a blank Wild. and then, with a nervous start. discerned a spot of blue. He knew it was blue serge and that it flapped about bicycle wheels. "\Vas it Eleanor?" He thought he sawa tam, and strain- ed his cycs to see if there was a leather on it. From the handle bar waved stream- ers. It must be Eleanor. It was her height, her dear form. He almost prayed for a puncture in her tire; a small piece of glass might be his salvation. “ The bicycle gained. “Oh, why did she risk exhaustion?” The car stopped for ,a moment. He was frantic. The bicyclist dismounted. “Thank heaven!" she wore bloomers. It was not Eleanor. The lover sank prostrated with sud- den relief. ‘ "In a short time the inn was reached. He was assisted from the car and the bicycle deposited by the door. With a sudden flood of energy and rage he gave it a kick that made graceful curves in its slender spokes. Then he sank into a chair and fell asleep. Ten minutes later Eleanor arrived. She shook her head over the bent wheel, found its victim unconscious, smoothed lovingly yester- day’s scar on forehead and, with a frightened glance around, put upon its zigzag line her first kiss. The lover smiled. He was dreaming that he was borne to the altar on a won- derful electric bicycle, to be united for aye to a white robed Eleanor.-—Wash- ington Post. A LEAP YEAR DINNER. [t “’as Held in Boston and Praised in London. This is Leap Year. I don’t know if we women are realizing our opportu- nities, and making the best of them. But in Boston they appear to be doing so. Only listen to this. They, the Boston hostesses, are giving Leap Year dinners—dinners so arranged that the men remain in their original seats throughout the meal, while the women progress with the courses. The host (a man of no account) rings a bell at the conclusion of each course, and reads out loud a line on the guest card, and the ladies, always moving westward, change their places at the signal. The rule the hostess has to observe is this: That she must have as many courses as there are couples present, since the round must be completed when dessert is there. Now about the guest cards and their mottos. For the men who keep their places during the meal the following quotations were given at the first of these entertainments in Boston: “Wel- come the coming, speed the parting guest ;” “Variety’s the very spice of life ;” “Stay in that station where you are placed;" “It is something to get this far, if one is not permitted to go farther;” “How happy could I be with either were t’other dear charmer away.” The ladies’ guest cards were inscribed with such quotations as these: “Press bravely ‘forwardf’ “Let us then be up and doing;” “A lovely apparition sent to be a moment’s ornament. “All things journey, we go with them.” At the head of the table a banner for all to see is inscribed: “Westward the course of Empire takes its way.” ] should like to be present at such 3. din- ner. The experiment requiresa certain amount of trouble. But, anyhow, it would be great fun—The Gentlewom- an, London. ). A Compafatively New Joke. “ We have before us a copy of the Brookville J effersonian, printed in 1856, in which appears the following joke: Hugh Brady met George Andrews on the street yesterday and said: “George, did you hear about that little affair at the American House to- day at noon?” “No,” said Andrews, “what was it?” “Why, all the ladies got up and left the table.” “The deuce you say! What for?" “They had finished eating.”—Punzsu- tawney Spirit. What He Would Do. “If you were the Only man in the world,” she said emphatically, “I wouldn’t have you.” “Oh, well,” he replied nonchalently, “if Iwere the only man in the world you couldn’t get me. I’d hold out for a harem—Chicago Post. The maximum age assigned to the pine is said to be 700 years; to the red beech, 245; to the oak, 510, and to the ssh, 145 years. -GAZETTEV SPOTIHE takes out ink, paint, tar, pitch, grease If and stains from f clothing and car— . pets quickly and completely and ML Leaves ___a Ring , .- —No Acid.—— 100.. 250., at Drug - ,No unpleasant odor. and Dry Goods Stores Not inflammable. Samples niailed, So. I. B. SUTTON, New Canaan, Ct. . M f Soldiby FINNEY & BENEDICT. / sperms; QLLEANSW it ' ‘SKlLL IN SHUNNING CREDITORS. A. successful Trick that Deceived Even tho Constables. ‘ The schemes that debtors sometimes evolve to rid themselves of annoying collectors are always amusing—to ev- erybody but the debtors, The very funniest character that Dickens ever conceived—in the mind of man—is Mi- cawber, he with the flat purse and plethoric speech. Who that has ever read it can forget the inexpressibly funny incident of Micawber, upon his departure for Australia, giving poor Traddles his “note-of-hand” for what he owed him, assuring him that that obligation, at least, was settled? And how Traddles, while looking upon the transaction in a somewhat different light. meekly submitted to Micawber’s peculiar logic and allowed him to walk away while he was recovering from the shock. Some of the tactics resorted to by these aunted debtors show_ in- genuity worthy of a better cause. On one occasion a man who had the cons stables on his track was about to take a stroll from his house. He was stand- ing on the doorstep talking to his wife, when he saw two suspicious looking men coming hurriedly toward him. Quickly taking his notebook from his pocket, he waited until the men were in hearing, and then, in a purposely loud voice, he said to his wife: “So your husband is out again. He never does seem to be in. It’s shame. ful. I have already called half a dozen times to settle this account. If he’s not in to-night when I call, I shall put the matter into court.” “Did you say your husband was out ?” asked one of the newcomers, “Yes,” replied the wife; “this gentle- man was just inquiring for him.” The three men ,turned and went down the steps together. “We’ve got little chance of getting anything there,” the debtor said. “I suppose you are after the man, too. Come and have a drink.” After that he was continually meet- ing the constables about his house, and invariably passed a cherry word with them. SAVED BY A BUGLE BLAST. An Instance “'liere Presence of Mind Saved 8. Life. 'A person who knows exactly the right thing to do in a sudden emergen- ey, without stopping to think at all, de- serves to have his presence of mind noted and commended. A German drum major has lately attained such distinction with good reason. ~ A regiment of the imperial army, resting on a country road, was ap- palled to see a great bull madly pur- suing a little child in a field which was near by, and yet so far away that the child could not be reached in time to save it, nor yet be saved by the shoot- ing of the animal, The hull had his horns down, and all the soldiers were horrified to see that in another moment the child must be gored to death. For an instant no one seemed to know what to do, and then the drum major shouted to the buglers of the band, who stood near with their instruments in their hands, to sound a loud blast. They looked aghast. “Sound, I say, for God’s sake, to save the child!” be repeated. Then the buglers blew a blast at the top of their lungs. The drum major knew that animals of the cow kind are so much affected by strange and high- pitched musical sounds that they seem compelled to imitate them. This bull proved to be no exception to the rule. As soon as he heard the bugle blast he paused in his pursuit of the child, glanced toward the band, raised his head, and began to bellow madly. The buglers kept up as high and discordant a tumult as they could, and, mean- time, soldiers were running to the res- cue of the child. Before the bull had finished his at- tention to the bugles the child was in a place of safety. Am... A lawyer who has an office in New York was at a party one night where the principal divertisement was tricks one of which recalled to the lawyer’s mind one he used to do when he was a schoolboy back in Maine. He called for a whisk broom, and then, laying a nickel in the centre of his open palm, ofiered it to any one in the‘party who would sweep it off with the broom. One of the conditions was that the broom must be held straight up and the coin swept with the ends of the broom straws. ' “Oh, I can do that!” said a young woman, and she took the broom and began to sweep at the coin. The harder she swept the tighter the coin stuck to the open palm of the lawyer’s hand. One after another each person at the party tried to sweep of! the coin, and it was an astonishing thing that the broom would not budge it. ! Since then the trick has spread, and at nearly every party some one shows the whisk broom and nickel trick, and it causes no end of wonder and amuse- ment. Any kind of small coin and any kind of whisk broom are all that are needed to show the trick, She Killed the Moths. It isn’t always well for a woman to have too many ideas. One of my ac— quaintances has just had one too many. Itwas in regard to a beauti- ful mink cape of hers, brand'new last winter. She packed it away last spring with some absolutely infallible, moth balls. As a consequence when she took it out for examination a fortnight or so ago she found a few moths in it. Immediately she had her idea. She would steam thatcape. She did it. She put it into a big steamer and steamed it for two hours. The furrier thinks that by careful management he may be able to make a tiny collarettc out of the remains. However, the steaming killed the moths. BOSS MATCHM CERT‘AINLY. ‘Once a Grocery Clerk, But His Children Married Into the Wealthlest Families. It is an old story that the King and Queen of Denmark are the most er- pert matchmaker-3 in Europe, and if they keep up to their records of the. past their progeny will probably rule every royal court in the civilized world. What these two purple-blood- ed aristocrats are to the people on the other side of the Atlantic Richard T. Wilson and his wife are to the folk on this end of the pond. m1 . I ‘IJ‘A b w. L. WILSON. Their children have married four of the wealthiest families the world over, yet forty years ago the father was a clerk in a country gro- cery store in the obscure town of Mad- into ison,_Ga. This shows the possibility of the American citizen and the tower- ing heights, both socially and finan- cially, which the most lowly can reach. There has been a lot of talk about Cornelius Vanderbilt disinheriting his son because of his marriage to Miss Wilson. Those who know Cornelius Vanderbilt know that all this talk is absolute rot. The father is a kindly broad-minded man and the peacemak- er of the family. If he is convinced that his son is mentally and morally fitted to wield the immense power which scores of millions gives, the young man will come in for the bulk of the fortune. Thus the Wilsons, father and moths er, planned a. marriage for their daugh- ter to a young man who promises to be the ruling figure in American fi— nance for years to come. Ogden Goe- let, the husband of the eldest daugh« ter, is worth $40,000,000, and every year or two some fabulously rich rela- tive dies and leaves him a few more millions. . . ._._!.._;_l_.Li.lL_. MRS. WILSON. The second eldest daughter married the Hon. Michael Herbert, who, as the secretary of the British legation at Washington, was the great beau at the capital a few years ago. The Herbert family is a very wealthy one in Eng land, and besides the young man will come into a title before long. Mar- shall Orme Wilson, the eldest son of the famous matchmakers, married Miss Carrie Astor, the youngest daughter of the late lVillivam Astor and sister of John Jacob Astor. Thus the Wil-sons are connected with the .Vanderbilts, the Astors, the Goe« lets, the three most influential fami- lies in New York. \Vhat is of reat in« terest to the people of the sw', ,‘lset, is a rumor to the effect that the Only un- married child of the Wilsons, Richard T.Wilson, Jr., is to marry Miss Gerry, a daughter of Elbridge T. Gerry. Commodore Gerry’s mother was a Miss . Goelet, and by marriage the Gerrys are already related to the Wilsons. Many people from the South who re- member the Wilsons in ante-bellum times, wonder how they managed to : accomplish so much in New York. ,It can easily be told in a few words. Richard T. Wilson was born in Ten- . nessee, and when he got old enough to shift for himself he went to Geor— gia. From clerk he soon became the owner of a country store. He sup. plied the planters with prevender for their slaves and received in exchange portions of their crops. He was a tre- mendously shrewd young man, and to this day stories can‘be heard in the middle Georgia district of the wonder- fully sharp bargains made by Dick Wilson. , He was a handsome man, a perfect giant in build, standing six feet four inches, and with a breadth of shoulder that was astonishing. Today he is one of the handsomest men in New York. He has thick, snow white hair, a full white beard, and his colossal frame shoulders his seventy years With ease. Fliho. 56 YEARS ESTABLISHED. M AND UPRIGHT. Nearly 100,000 Manufactured. EASY TERMS. EXCHANGED. REASONABLE PRIces. ~ g ,. FISCHER PIANO WAREROOMS, no Fifth (Avon cor. IGth St" N. Y. _ q Writefor Catalogue. . d a».-. .s-v— -— .
Norwalk Chronicler