.'-~'_ V. » 1‘. THE EVENING GAZETTE, OVERPRODUCTION. There’s an overproduction of cotton. An overproduction of corn; Too much of everything is grown: Too many people born; A surplus yield of wheat and bread, Of potatoes. oats and rye, Hog and hominy. ham and eggs, And home-made pumpkin pie. Too much too eat', too much to wear. And cattle ‘on too many hills; Too many agricultural tools, Too many scrapers, loughs and drills. There’s surplus now 9? clothing Of every grade and kind; Too many books and papers, r. figs Too much thought and mind. Too many men to do the work, Too many women to weep: More daylight than the people need, Too much night for sleep; 0f benedicts a surplus, An oversupply of wives: Too many birds and blossoms, More bees than there are hives. '5‘ wri- it”. ‘-' More sunshine and more, shadow ..._ Than is needed for the dell; ' . An overproduction of gravestones, “a More coffins than we sell: An overproduction 0f ignorance. “3‘: A sight too many schools; Too many poor, too many rich. . And lots too many fools. THE GYPSY DANCER. A gypsy band were in the West Rid- ing of Yorkshire, England, and the beautiful danseuse Min'itti, With her handsome companion, were perform.- ing :to the delighted villagers of the country. It did not escape the inquisi- tive eyes ‘of the spectators that her companion, Fernando, watched with loving eye each motion of Minitti. .The little town in the environs 'of .wlhich the gypsy band were encamped was one day thrown into commotion by one of the inhabitants declaring that an article of considerable value had been stolen from his house. One of the inhabitants even remembered to have seen a female of the tribe near the door of the house whence the jewel was missing, and was ready to make oath that it was none other than Minitti, the danseuse of the tribe. This was quite sufi‘icient, and 'upon such strong circumstantial evidence the beautiful girl was seized and rude- ly carried before the Justice of the county for examination. In vain was all the proof offered by the tribe as tolher innocence; no court would heed a .gyipsy’s evidence, and the Justice was forced, though compassion was in his heart, aye, and it beamed broadly from his countenance, too, to commit the girl. Immediately after the Justice had pronggnced rthe sentence, and the weeping girl was about to be borne away by the officers of the court, a young man stepped suddenly forward from the crowd and said, while he thrust aside the rough hands that were extended to. seize Minitti: “Stand back, if you.» would not have me take your lives. The girl is inno- cent—I stole the jewel. Why should you charge this upon that gentle being, innocent and pure, aye. purer than the best of ye'. It is I who am guilty.” “Thou!” cried the gypsy girl, “im-‘ possible, Fernando!" for it was her companion of the dance. And the gen- tle girl, rejoicing to find one friend so near her in this fearful moment, threw her arms about his neck and wept upon his breast. “Even so, dear Minitti,” he replied, “but fear not for ,me, I shall soon be released again. Keep up" a brave heart, dear girl.” "As he said these words, the Justice directed oflicers to release the girl and commit the young man to prison, glad of an opportunity to clear one. whom he could not find in his heart to commit. The Justice was Sir George Pasely, and that same night while he sat alone in his study, musing upon the examination of the gypsy and the sin- gular circumstance relating to it, a servant announced that a stranger desired to see him. He was admitted and the tall, gaunt person of the gypsy leader was before him. Sir George motioned him :to a seat. “Judge,” said he at once, “I am a man of a few words. I 'have come here on a matter of business, and with your permission will speak at once to the point.” “Go on, air.” “Twelve years ago,” continued the gypsy, “you lost a child.” The‘oid man sprang like an 'infuri~ ated animal upon lthe person . of the gypsy, and seizing “him by the throat, had nearly thrown him upon the floor before the gypsy sufficiently recovered himself to release his neck from Sir George’s grasp. “Stay,” ‘said “the gY‘pSy, casting oil the Justice with an ease that showed at oboe his superior physical power, and with a degree of composure that proved him to be no stranger to scenes of personal conflict. “no power on earth can m-ake,me speak unless I choose. Now deal with me like a man and I will do so; resort to force, and I am dumb forever." “Speak then," said the old man, trembling in every limb, speak—what of my child?” “As I said before, this is purely a matter of business on my part,” con- tinued the gypsy. “will you give me £50 if I will return your daughter to you?” Without a word further, Sir George drew a hill upon his bank for the amount specified, saying to fthe gypsy as‘dhe exhibited the draft, honestly drawn and filled up: “Now, sir, speak, and if you give me Inventhful intelligence, , upon my honor the draft and money shall be yours.” “Enough, I am satisfied. Now, Sir George, the girl that was tried be- ~ fore you today, .eharged with the theft, is lthy daughter.”- “My God!” excl-aimed the agitated parent, scarcely able to contain him- self, “bring her to me at once.” “Stay, sir,” continued the gypsy, “first let me explain to you my owr agency in mean-air.” _ .~ - . . “No matter, no matter, . I forgive you—bring me my child.” “But I ask no forgiveness; first let me explain. I learned this secret in a distant land, from a man who had been, paid to destroy your "child, but who, taking a fancy to her, preferred to save her life, and adopted her. When I learned this from him he was on his deathbed. I promised him to bring her to you. I have done so, and now only demand payment for my expenses.” -’At the expiration of an hour, during which Sir George could hardly conquer his impatience, Minitti, the lovely dan- seuse, entered St. George’s apart- ment, and was at once clasped in his arms, with Ibarely a word that told her all. “Oh, heaven!” said the father, while he alternately pressed her to [his heart, and held her from him, that he might see more clearly her womanly, perfections, “I rthank thee for at last returning her to me, so beautiful, so gentle, so lovely, aye, and so pure; there can be no guile or deceit in that face,” and Sir George was almost be- side himsel-f with joy and delight. “Louise,” said he, the tears streaming from his eyes, “dear, dear Louise.” “I do remember that name,” said she, musing, “it comes over me like a dream, long, long forgotten.” “Ah, my child,”- said Sir George, “nothing on earth shall again separate us from each other.” “But . father, dear father.” said Louise, bewildered and over happy, ,will you release Fernando?” “Aye, at once. The brave fellow would have saved thee at the expense of his own liberty and shall be suitably rewarded.” As he spoke he wrote an order for his immediate release, which was des- patched forthwith by a servant, with directions to bring the gypsy to Sir George's apartment. In the meantime Louise’s early history was crowded upon her astonished ears, almost in a single breath. Fernando came at last, little dream- ing of the document that was await- ing him. He was surprised to find Minitti in the company of Sir George and at once rightly conjectured that his release was owing ]to her interces- sion, but his astonishment was be- yond description when the true posi- tion of the matter was explained to him. Suddenly he became sad, anda tear even trembled in his handsome eye, when the Justice asked: ' “What grieves you, my friend?” “To realize, sir, ”that Minitti’s find- ing a father must be the cause of our separation.” “How so, sir?” “Would one of your blood and stand- ing in the world marry a child to one of the proscribed race?” “Aye,” said the Justice, "Louise should be yours if you were the—the ——I won’t exactly say what, after the proofs of affection you "have shown her.” Fernando pressed the tearful girl to his breast, saying: “Dear Louise, blessed be the power that overrules us al .” “Dear‘ Fernando, how happy we shall be now, with every opportunity for im— provement and all the thugs you have taught me, to read, to write, and everything. I can improve them all.” “We will, indeed,” replied Fernando. Then, turning to the Justice, said: “The trial is passed, and now I, too, will speak. One year since I made a vow on quitting my studies that I would seek a wife who should love me for myself alone. Being of noble birth—nay, start not, it is true—I as- sumed these rustic garments, and de- termined to wear them until I found a heart and proved it worthy of my love. I saw Louise as a gypsy. I loved her at once, yet I determined to keep my oath. I tested her affection in every reasonable way, and learned to love her for her purity of mind, as well as her extraordinary beauty, and when the time had nearly come for me to take a gypsy wife to my bosom, lo, I find her of gentle birth like myself, while each has truly proved the other’s love.” Fernando de Cortez was indeed born of the blood royal of Spain, and in this romantic way had be chosen him- self a wife. We might make‘ our tale more complete by adding to it, but still we could only show that happiness 'as the future lot of ‘the gypsy da'n- sense—Buffalo Times. To Prevent Walls Becoming Damp. The walls of astone house and some- times of a brick house are covered with dampness. This is ”due to the very same causes by which dew is deposited on grasses or moisture on Ithe side of a glass or pitcher that is filled with ice water and brought into a warm room. The walls become cold, and as stoneis a non-conductor of heat, they remain cold for a- long time." When the weather changes suddenly from cold to warm the air becomes filled with moisture, for the warmer the air is the more moisture it will absorb. When this warm air strikes the cold wall, the moisture is deposited on it from the air, which issuddenly cooled by con- tact with them, and as the warm air is continually coming in contact with the cold walls, the dampness acCum-ulates until it appears like dew upon them, and pours down in streams at times. It is easily prevented. No plaster should be put directly upon brick or stone, but furring strips should be nailed to the wall and the laths put on these. Cellars are frequently 'made very damp in the same way by too much ventilation in warm weather. “What extenuating circumstances can you give?” asked the judge. “Please, your honor, I made the money to pay for my lodgings,” re- plied the counterfeiter. “Very good. It will pay for your board and lodgings for the next five years.” I. .- ...... — - -.. Waite , , W ‘ The Care of the Boys. A writer in the Ladies' World says that “Croquet” now has anold-fashion- ed sound. It is a. generation since this game raged, so to speak, when no lawn was complete without its gayly colored stakes and slender wire wickets; when the players would become so interested in playing the game started ere the long summer twilight began to wane that lanterns would be lighted to bring ater- mination and glorious victory to the winning side. I remember a lady who lived in a suburban town with her husband and only child, a boy. What a never fail- ,ing source of enjoyment was the orc- quet ground. That boy—he was fifteen or sixteen years of "age at the time of which I speak—never bothered his mother by “going out,” because, among other things calculated to occupy pleas- antly the boy’s leisure, she was always ready to drop her work and go out and play with the “boys.” The charm of it was, she was as interested as her boy and his companions, and they knew it. Trust a 'boy to know whether he is a ‘- " m. . 1 ated. ' This mother would excuse herself for a few minutes, after playing long enough to get an interest started, and before the boys would have scarcely time to miss her they would be called in to a supper which had all been pre- pared before the game began, except the flaky, hot biscuit, which were baked in the few moments. How good those biscuit did taste! and all the other nice things, eaten with the sauce of a boy’s appetite. After tea, “mother” threw her white apron over the back of her chair, and with a cheery “Come, boys, let’s finish that game before dark,” left the table to take care of itself until the little party broke up and her boy bade good night to his happy comrades. ' The mother is alone now. Husband and son both are at rest beneath the green sod. But even in her loneliness there is comfort, because she never said, "Oh, go away and play; I am busy and cannot be bothered,” as does many a loving but thoughtless mother who sets up her housework as a sortof deity, who must first be propitiated before she can even think of anything else. We cannot bring our children up to our level of care and responsibility. It is a blessed thing that we cannot, or there would be precious little child life left. The earth would soon be peopled with a race of diminutive grandmothers and grandfathers. But we can unbend while, even to our own advantage and the children’s delight. And there is no game better calculated for such an un- bending than the simple, quiet game of croquet. HOUSEHOLD HINTS. " White spots upon tarnished furniture will disappear if a hot plate be held over them: | . A raw egg swallowed immediately will generally carry a fish bone down which cannot be removed from the throat by the utmost exertion and has gotten out of reach of the saving finger. An [excellent way to keep silver bright, is given by an old housekeeper, as follows: To one and a half ounces of hartshorn powder add one pint of new milk. Place in this mixture some soft, old cloths; let them boil for ten min- utes, then rinse in cold water, wring out, and dry quickly in the sunshine. Spoons and forks rubbed with these cloths every day after they have been washed and dried will seldom need any other cleaning: .5. If an upper pie crust is brushed over with a. little milk or egg before placing it in the oven it will brown quickly and have a better color. ’ The inside of the skin of the banana rubbed on the leather of tan shoes will clean and polish them as well as regular dressing. . A baked custard is one of the ‘easiest things to make and also one of the easi- est to spoil in baking. A shallow dish is better than .a. deep one. Place the hot water and bake in a moderate oven. the knife comes out clean remove from the oven at once. in vinegar it will cleanse every part of it, and it is said that if tlie‘wickers are” Soaked in vinegar before they are used at all and then thoroughly dried they will draw well and will not smoke. . If a filter cannot be obtained for the household, it is safer to boil all the water used for drinking purposes. A little powdered borax added to cold starch tends to give the linen extra stifiness, anda little turpentine put in- to the boiled starch auds lustre. A hot bath taken before going to bed, even on a hot night in summer, is a better cure for insomnia than many drugs. Abeavy flatiron, weighing sevenor eight pounds, will do better work if it is passed over the clothes with a firm, steady pressure than a lighter iron hur- three times. ~ It is rumored that earrings are com- ing into favor again, and the Duchess of York has really appeared with dia- monds, suspended from her ears. We are threatened too, with the old time bracelets of black velvet, with gold and jewelled Clasps. ' Clothing that has become spotted and whose color has been destroyed by acids may‘have the color restored by apply- ing ammonia and afterward chloro form. ' . l a. welcome visitor or only to be toler- - to the 165781: of‘ the children once in a ‘ dish containing the custard in a. pan of . Try it with a knife blade and as soon as > If a lamp burner i..= occasionally boiled. riedly passed over the clothes two or ! ! DEAREST To WOMAN’S HEART. Fashions of the Various Things That She 4 S all Wear. (By Special Arraniement with the N; Y. Sun.) No sooner is the problem regarding the lawns, muslins and laces for sum- mer" wear solved satisfactorily. than the mind of woman is obliged to turn. to more sober thoughts of serge and corded silks and other heavier mate" rials for autumn wear. But if the thing must be done, there is consolation in knowing that the new designs are cer- tainly very original. Covert coatings and fine-faced cloths, unless for dress occasions, are used mostly in the fall wraps. The godet skirts and‘ huge sleeves are certainly among the rapidly de—. parting styles, and fashion threatens to go to the other extreme and return to close, clinging skirts. The new gowns are reduced to almost one—half of the fulness that formerly prevailed, and they fit so closely about the hips that they will be exceedingly trying to very slight figures. The tight sleeves are equally trying, and many women are moaning over the lost fulness that has been so becoming to their extreme slenderness. The sleeves in this tran- sition period are a very important part of the dress, and although they are clinging from wrist to shoulder their shape is wonderfully relieved .by the 'many devices employed to ornament the top, such as puffs, frills, epaulets, points and other trimming to match the bottom of the skirt. .u. y. .‘ . . ' o' Ulsters will be very much worn, and will be made more or less for dress by the cut of the body of the coat. The hats have rather a severe aspect when compared with the fluffy, be- flowered hats of summer, but there is a very stylish air about them and they give the wearer a very distinguished appearance. Bonnets for elaborate oc- casions are airy, indeed, being made almost entirely of gathered tulle or lace and jet and trimmed with dark velvet, sprays of flowers, or feathers. Some of these tiny affairs have a full osprey perched upright at the back. Sprays of green oats and bunches of green wheat are showing themselves among the trimmings of the fall mil- linery, in opposition to the bright red cherries and curl-ants that have been introduced for the decoration of fall hats. There is a marked change in the skirts. They are much less full about the bottom and fuller at the waist in the back. Braiding about the bottoms of the cloth walking skirts will be very much used. Some skirts will have per- forated designs, showing the contrast- ing color of the silken lining, and some will have a flat band of a darker cloth laid plainly on the bottom and headed with a narrow braided design. A Diarked Resemblancc. Buggins—“President Cleveland used to be like George Washington, but isn’t any longer.’ New, why is it?” Guggins—“Go on; spring it.” Buggins—-“Because up to last Satur- day he was never known to Li.”—Buf— falo Express. " The Cheerful Idiot. “Bloomers,” said the old-fashioned" boarder, “lessen a woman’s matrimo- nial chances.” ' . “Dear me,” said the Cheerful Idiot, “I thought they were a distinct aid in striking a mat .”—Indianapolis Jour- nal. > Wovens ' f" for you at least IO per cent. of your coal bill dur- 111g an average Winter over any other furnace on the market, Simply because the Bay State burns (a the coal completely. Its grate surface 'is in ex- 6‘- act proportion to the wo'rk expected of it; the flue vertical, ItS ash-pit roomy, its joints tight. Sup- pose thlS 10 per cent. means one ton of coal. One ton of coal costs $ 5. $5 is the ‘interest' on $100. . You W111 save money by buying a Bay State 5;. Consult your local dealer. . @ Furnace. . BARSTOW STOVE CO.- 228 Water St.,’ NEW YORK FOUNDRIES—Providcnce, R. I. 'filfifilfilfilfiifi.’ cocoon ’ the Yellow fellow ‘ is known throughout cycling as a light; staunch, stylish, speedy mount. There’s a. best in every- thing; the ’96 Stearns is a veritable edition deluxe among bicycles. Finished in bIack or orange. Stearns riders are satisfied riders, and always proud as kings of their mounts. Your address will insure receipt of our hand- some new catalogue. ’ E. C. STEARNS & (30., 'Makers, Syracuse, N. Y. Toronto, Ont. '" ' TEAM BICYCLE AND fit @ONTENT. San Francisco. Cal. Buffalo, N. ‘1'. I H. R. BULKLEY 8: CO... Agents. SOUTH NORWALK. Tcwle Vault Light Company, MANUFACTURERS. VlULTliGHlS. SKYLIGHT till than LIGHT DESIGNS. Factory: Office: .48! lilacs Minn, l61 ELM STREET,. BBGDXl‘fil. I NEW YORK. Chosen by the The 372: D irmtmtftestthebiblczdféoiugzmmd r to or crushing. y or purpose. gait? Bids frogn p$50 to $85 each for other machines; our bid of $100 each for Columbias, their invariable_ price. 1And the Govern- ment selected ‘ 7 . STANDARb OF THE WORLD.‘ I! You bl I: $I00 for W The—expects who made the choice de- a bicyclzfouzy ebeo etiytent with “666' that Colombiaswereworth every anything but a Columbia ? dollar of the $100 asked for them. Beautiful Art Catalogue of Columbia and Hartford-Bicycles is free if you call upon any ‘ Columbia Agent; by mail from us for two 2-cent stamps. ' . . . Pops MFG. c0, Harthrd, Conn. Brand: Stores anthgencies ln-alm’bst. every city and town. I: colossus are not ‘ ‘ " 'Lbropcrly" 1'69"ch ". ted"ln§rour vicinityleszuaimow. . j ,,
Norwalk Chronicler