HE MUTUAL LIFE lNSIIlAICBIh, RICHARD A. McCDRDY, President. Statement for the Year EndingDec. 31:97; According to the Standard of the Insurance Department of the State of New York. INCOME. . . i - $42,693.20! 99 I 1.469.406 24 $54, 162,608 23 Received for Premiums V From all other Sources _ . . l , 5 ELSEEESEME «Ems. To Polle-holders for Claims by Death $13,279,630 69 ,, To Policy-holders for Endowments, Dividends, etc. . 12,712,424 76 For all other Accounts . . . . . 10,132,005 57 ’ $36,124,060 99 ASSETS. N United States Bonds and other Securities . . $132,017,341 45 First Lien Loans on Bond and Mol'tg'age . . Loans on Stocks and Bonds . Real Estate 69,423,937 31 12,880,308 .00 21,618,454 88 v 0 -. Cash in Banks and Trust Companies . .’ . "17051195 83 " Accrued Interest, Net Deferred Premiums, etc. . . 6,141 200 20 , Reserve 10;- Policies and other Liabilities Insurance and Annuities in Force $253,786,437 6‘6 218,278,243 07 $35,508,194? 59 5.9365634.496 63 ‘ l have carefully examined the foregoing Statement and find the same to be correct; ,7 liabilities calculated by the Insurance Department. CHARLES A. PRELLER, Auditor ‘ From the Surplus a dividend awill be apportioned as usual Report of the Examining Committee. Office of the Mutual Life Insurance Company of New York. To THE HONORABLE, THE BOARD or TRUSTEES or ‘ . TIE MUTUAL LIFE INSUBAIGE GOMPAIY OF NEW YORK. The undersigned, a Committee appointed by your honorable body, on the twenty- _ second day of December, I897, to examine the Annual Statement of the Company and ' to verify the same, respectfully-———-r - 3 REPORT That, pursuant to the power and authority thereby conferred, the Committee have, at various dates between the date of the said reference and the date of this Report, attended at the office of the Company, and have been waited on 1. by the Treasurer, the Comptroller, the Audlter, and the Cashier, together with the respective assistants of such officers ' and have carefully gone overall the items contained' 1n the said Statement, and have found the same to be corrr (ct. They have examined and counted every certificate of stock, bond and other obligation held by the Company, and compared such quotations—in fact, in many cases below them. They have examined and counted the bonds and mortgages on real property held by the Company, and find the same to be as stated. They have also verified the valuation of the Com- pany’s holdings of real estate and have verified the deposits of money in the various banks and trust companies, and have counted the cash on hand held by the Cashier. And the Committee certify that all the books, papers, documents, and evidence of title of every description Ream. sary in such examlnation have been freely submitted to the Committee by the said officers and their assiStants, and that the same are accurate, in good order, and well kept. And the Committee further certify that the investments of the Company are of a high order, and that the System and methods adopted by the Company In “"0111ng 1‘5 transactlons and caring for the assets are entitled to commendation All of thCh' 1s respectfully submitted. CHAS. R. HENDERSON ELBRIDGE T. GERRY A. N. WATERHQUSE NEW YORK} January 21, 1898- S. V. R. CRUGER J. HOBART HERRICK JAMES 0. HOLDEN Board of'I'rustees- FREDERIC 03011me J ULIEN T. DAVIES A. N. WATERHOUSE S. V. R. CRUGER CHARLES R. HENDERSON ' ' RUFUS W. PECRHAM J. HOBART HERRICK WM.'P. DIXON ROBERT A. GRANNISS - ' - . ' HENRY H. ROGERS Jno. W AUCHIRCLOSS THEODORE MORFORD WILLIAM BABCOCK ., STUYVESANT FISH AUGUSTUS D. J UILLIARD CHARLES E. MILLER WALTER R. GILLETTE H. WALTER WEBB SAMUEL D. BABCOOK RICHARD A. MCCURDr JAMES C. HOLDEN HERMANN C. VON POST WILLIAM J. SEWELL q OLIVER HARRIMAN ROBERT OLYPHAN'I' GEORGE F. BAKER DUDLEY OLCOTT GEORGE G. "HAVEN ADRIAN ISELIE JR. GEORGE S. BOWDOIN WILLIAM C. VVHI'I‘NE‘I WILLIAM ROCKEEELLER JAMES N. J ARVIE CHAS D. DICKEYJR ELRRIDGE T. GERRY JAMES SPEYER} 0 ”ROBERT A. GRANISS, Vice-President. ISAAC F L OYD 2d V P (ViVAtLTER R GILLETTE, General Manager. 2.: 1ce- res1 en DUES du-P. BRECK. Cortes ondin Secrets: WILLIAM J. EASTON, Secretary. ' ALBERT KLAMROTH, Assisglnt SegCretary y FREDERIC CROMWELL, Treasurer. JOHN A. FONDA, Assistant Treasurer. JAMES TIMESON. 2d Assistant Treasurer. WILLIAM R SANDS, Cashier. EDWARD f‘. HOLDEN, Assistant Cashier. n R, Assistant Actua CHARLES A, PRELLER, Auditor. WILLIAM W? RICHARDS, Comptroller. C. CLIFFORD GRETSINGER, Aenistant AuditOr. HENRY S. BROWN, Assistant Comptroller ‘ ' , JOHN. C. ELLIOT. Superintendent of DOmestic Agencies. ' ED WARD LYMAN SHORT, General Solicitor. 3 MEDICAL DIRECTORS: - ELIAS J. MARSH, M D GRANVILLE M WHITE. ‘13 G. S. WINSTON M. D. Consulting. 1» ,, Emotions, n @ELEEREg @gggml Agents. A.” E? NAME . MESA Agont. ' ‘b- ' though; that’s the prices at which the same are carried' In said Statement with the market quotations, and find the same not exceeding ' 'Of going through it. have made it if I’d taken the road}, ’ Co-gmin, n Lvmn ix- 0 _. G A [z I 1 H _ I, A . NARROW ESCAPE. Duke Carlton paced restlessly back and forth on the platform at the sta- tion of D--———-. He was a-man twen tyLsix’years of age, upon whom nature had certainly lavished an undue amount of good looks, but whose face' was marred at present by a look Of contempt for everything upon whidh. his glance might chance to fall. And it was scarcely to be wondered at, for ! in just nine hours, as time was told by the large, slowly ticking clock in the waiting loom at the depot, Duke Carlton was to be married. And how he was forty miles from his destina- tion, and had just been told by the station agent that the trains had changed time, his train having left at precisely twenty minutes before his arrival, and there would not be anoth- er before eight that evening! Eight—- the hour set for his marriage with sweet Lilla Houghton. What would she, could she, think? What a posi- tion to put her in. Already he imag- ined the crowded church, the sea of eager faces, the waiting bride and no Duke. He must reach the city of E in time for the ceremony, but how? Presently he walked back to the lit- tle ticket office, where the agent was laboriously writing. “DO you know if there is any sort of conveyance around how that I could get to take me to the next vi1- l-age? I would pay well for one as it is imperative that I Should reach 13—. before night.” The agent calmly finished the sen- tence he was writing, pushed the cap he was wearing on the back of his head still further back, and having thoughtfully chewed the end of his pen for about a :half a minute, re- plied: “I dunno. You might be able to get old .Harmon’s horse and buggy if ’tain’t let. He keeps the tavern ’bout a stone’s throw from here, an’ some- times lets his horse; but he wants a tarnation price. You can try him. "his chimney you see jest over the yeller house there. ” And he rose lazily and pointed vaguely down the street, where a number of small houses were visible, among which thenyellow one stood out dis- tinctly, having been recently built and just received its coat of priming. Duke walked rapidly from the depot and hastened in the direction of the “tavern,” keeping the chimney in view as a guard- against mistake, and soon found himself before a dirty, ill- kept, ill-looking place, from which an Odor of boiled cabbage and onions was now lssuinv. To his loud and twice repeated knocking the door was final- ly opened"'by an untidy specimen of womankind from which he would .at any other time have recoiled in dis- gust; but his necessity was urgent, so, stepping forward, he raised his h" and courteously asked if he might sea. the proprietor. After a prolonged stare, as if men- tally digesting the word, she answered with a half grunt: , “Ain’t t’ home, but I’m ’is wife ’nd we ain’t no secrets. What du you want?” » Duke smiled in spite of his perplex- ity, before he replied. “I merely came to see if I 0011 ‘d e11- gage some one to take me ov CI to the village cast of hole. I must reach E—'——— tonight; I bell-C ve I can get a carriage there” “There ain’t no horse to burn," she said, “but Abe would take you over in the mornin’. Du you warn lodgin’ for the night?” she added. an eager look taking the place of the previous va- cant stare. “No, thank you.” said Duke; “if I cannot find a vehicle of some descrip— tion I suppose I must walk, for Imust certainly get there to-night Can you tell me about how far it is to the next village, and which is the nearest way toga?" “It’s four mile an’ a half by the railroad, an” nigh onto seven if you take the road,” was the surly answer. as she saw there was not even a re- .mote chance of “A’be s” making some— “Bu-t ’Iain‘f thing in the morniwng many as likes to go by the railway, 011 ’count of the mirror tunnel, though it’s a deal nearer.” “Thanks. Then if I take to the track hole and go straight ahead I shall come out at. 'the village at the end of about four miles?” A nod was his answer, followed, as he turned away, by the words: . “Four an’ a half, I said.” e SO Duke started to walk the four and a half miles, concluding he mySt take the shortest way he could, as he had not a superabundance of time; there might bef'some little delay even after 'he arrived at the village. So he began his journey at once, without even Stopping. for dinner. He had passed the third. mile post when he reached the tunnel. "Ah!” he said aloud. “Here is the tunnel of which she warned me. i wonder how long it is? What a dun'ce I was notto ask. ticklish place, that’s a fact—small, one track affair. I don’t half like the idea Wonder if Well, it’s too late now—I m in for’ it.” He had groped along for a short “quarter of a. mile, feeling his way care- , fully by the wall. . any actual danger had entered his, .Not a thought of head—so full of his fair Ride -to be; until suddenly a 'dull rumble struck Disrears, and caused him 'to wonder from'whenc‘e the sound proceeded. Another instant and there flashed across his brain the horrible reality. :A train Was coming, from which di- rection he could not tell, but certainly. proved : and if the tunnel muCh longer,- the fact was undeniaible; that he Should be crushed beneath the irOn monster there alone In the dark-. mess 'alid no one would know his fate. ..—- -———- ‘\___—.v\.- ‘ It does look like a - I’d , i: was coming in the rear. He quickz. ened his steps—she ran—ran as rapidly as he dared for feal Of a misstep which .- would hinder instead of advance his D ends.’ Now the. roar comes nearer; he can imagine The train as it is 'tealing along, carlying death to him He thinks each individual hair is stand~ ing on end. The sweat pours down his 'face, and still 'this darkness, still this louder roar of the engine as it comes Isteadily nearer and nearer, and his strength is nearly exhausted. At last a gleam of light gleets him at the farther end of the tunnel. Oh. what hOpe it inspires! ,the races he has won at college, and determines to take a fresh stnalt Yes, he will run as if running a race, and forget the huge monster behind him. which seems to paralyze his limbs and prevent all motion; he will run. run— he must win—how, terrible the result if he does not! He thinks of Lula. his sweetheart, his wife that was to have been. Shall be ever see her again? The light ahead grows more and more distinct, but his breath is going, and the train behind is rushing on fast; it seems quite close now; he can almost feel its breath upon him; still he runs. Another moment and he will have gained or lost-vwhich? He must make that short space! 'What a' thing it is, this being face to face with death! He cannot hold out much lon- ger; he feels he must lose—and wh 1: then? but no—he will make one more effort. He clears the tunnel, leaps from the track, and falls headlong down the bank on the side, saved—but unconscious, while the heavily loaded freight train passes by. But the engineer had seen him jump and not being- able to ascertain whether he had been struck by the cowcatcher or net, stopped the train and went back in search Of him; and when Duke Carlton regained con- sciousness he was lying'on a seat in’ the depot in the village for which he had started some hours before. fall had but stunned him, and in all his journey, a little pale, it is true, and shaky in the lower e'xtrelneties. but otherwise rejoicing that he had in time for his wedding, with thirty minutes to spare. Duke C’al'lton does not believe in the theory that a person's hair ,turns sorrow, for his own raven locks show not a trace of silver; and surely no one ever had a more terrible fright or a. narrower escape than did he on his wedding day, when he ran a race for his bride. - THE FRENCH HONOR. In the Army II In ol :1 Particular Val-l- c gated Klml. “" “No, ” said the French artillery ofliccr quoted by the Cleveland Leader, “I have never done a thing that any man should be ashamed of.” “You have never told a lie?” the ad- vocate demanded. ' “Never.” “You have never robbed a chicken coop "’ “Never. as I aim a gentleman and a scholar.” . “You have never violated the sanc- tity of an oath?” “No, I have never thought of doing such -a' thing.” “You have never gone into your friend's house and abused his hospi- tality?” 1 . "Of course not.” “You swear that you are guiltless of all these things, do you?” “I swear 1t ” “You have never cheated your land- lady?" " Never. ” “Now, on your honor as a soldier, tell me are you not guilty of all the crimes that I have mentioned?” The oflicer went pale, and replied: “Ah, monSieur. why have you ap- pealed to my soldierly honor? Why do‘ ‘ you compel me to confess that I have lied, robbed hen coops, abused my friends’ cOnfidence, perjured myself, soldier of. France I Could do these things and still remain unsullied; but upon my honor as a soldier I may not deny them. Hand me the six-shooter.” Befo’ «naval: Style. In these damoff‘ crazy fads almost any price wilh‘be. paid for the gratifi- cation .,of a sense _A. novelty is pre- sented by a middle-aged man of wealth who lives in a handsome house near the lower end of Central Park. His father was .a slaveholder, 'and old times are recalled by a daily return 'to ante-helium conditions, Negro. ser- vants. are employed With the under- standing that when there are no visit- ‘ors in the. house theyshall call the owner “Master”.or “Mars John.” It is just like slave days to be there. “Here, Sam, you —— black scoundrel. black my boots.” “Yas, Mars John.” “GeOrg'e you rascal, saddle-my horse.” “Yas; marsterf.’ “Henry, you’ll get 1 a thousand lashes if you don’t hurry up there.” -“Yas, ssh, Mars John. I is hu’in fas’ ’s 'I kin.” In the presence 3 of guests t-heservants say “Mr. , cus,” “Yes. sir,” and “No, sir.” while ; he addresses ,them with dignity and respect—New York. Press. Has Its Colupeusatiuns. I notice that there's a good deal of ague in this part of the country," " said the tourist, who stepped at the farmhouse for a drink' of water. “That’s a great dlawback. It unfits a » man for workentirely, does it not?” 'fGener’ly ”it does.” :said; :thesallow woman Who" handed him a tin cup. “Still, when John has a right hard fit of the shakes we. fasten“: the ch3irn daSher to him and he brings the butter . inside of fifteen minutes.” - He listened, laying his ear to the-trill; He thinks of. hour he was quite ready to proceed on' succeeded in his quest, and. would be white in a night from sudden fright or. and left my board bill unpaid? As a' He was not seriously injured. His. beholder to see and count over 200 'acute- business men, who Can drive .a and he shared the fate Of his pro-dc: .Bar- , It was a wise man who made .;thc ‘ statement that "Bread zi’s the staffé off.“ sale. A short trip of less than a-Illlle,_ ; from Mulberry street down HeSter, or " to Monroe or Orchard, will enable the dTlI-erent kinds and forlns of bread. There will be seen not only the numer- ous forms of American bread, but the "-17 Italian varieties and the Hebrew forms, as depicted in the engraving. , . Prominently displayed is the famous f” ’ rye bread, made in loaves twenty inches in diameter and six or seven - I. .3. inches thick. These loaves, as seen in»; . the engraving; have been cut t‘hrOugh the center, and are sold thus, as: a complete' 1511f is -a great amount of bread for a single family to handle at one time, even as numerOus as the Hebrew families are; The loaves at the top are freshly cut, while those «,‘g’. nearer the bottom seem to have been " divided at some far-distant day, and ‘ have assumed the weatherbe'aten ap- pearance of Sawdust. 4" ' At the left is the form Of bread. most commonly seen, in_.th.is quarter. The loaves are also round, patient-[twelve inches in diameter, fiveOr-six' inches thick, and. like the rye bread, were baked without tins. upon the bottom Of the oven. Nearly all the bread: is baked in the same manner, and con- 3 sequen'tly has a heavy crust all OVel , it One of these loaves, after becom- ing stale, if covered with plush and trimmed with fringe, would make an ’ ' elegant and durable hassock or foo‘i stool for parlor or sewing room! . The Shakers In Real Estate. ._ y '- People would be amazed to know . .. ~ that some of the richest patches of g improved land on Manhattan Island -‘ I; are owned by the Society of, Shakers ' " ' ' in New Lebanon. ’Only a few, days ago they acquired title to a valuable betel property running. an efitire square on the West Side and worth at least $2,000,.000 They are forever on the lookout for heavy investments, all in real estate, and seem to have a pocketbook wizthouta bottom.' They are rich as cream. ; Their .methOds are peculiar, extremely primitive. One Of their slyest members slips doWn to the city, spends 'a ,few weeks illinoslng around for bargains, talks. withprop- . el'tya'holders and agents and then goes - '. home to report._-The supreme council . of the Shakers is composed of fifty ' l 37:3 ..:_ ‘_ .32, s. bargain and pray with the same facile ' . ity. In this. body these reports are . .. ' discussed, and the. investment of enOp-fl’ f , mons sums hangs on, the verdict. ' Everybody has a chance ~:to make Sug- gestions, and, in [this way some point that others would miss is seenand acted on. As a result these peculiar, ascetic disciples of Mother :‘Ann and— Joseph Meaoham, who. founded the New Lebanon settlement back in the last century on a plain oatmeal basis, now possesses property here on the island that will make their; descend- . . ants Astors. They have gone special- 4 3 ly, in the past five' years, into upper West —Side‘ development. All this is the outcome of economy and thrift. Idleness they call a cardinal Sin. They have encrmous gardens, where flow- ers, medical herbs, fruits and vegeta- bles are cultivated. Lately they have gone heavily into agriculture and man-4 ,- ufacture, and find a ready market for ” ‘ all they produce. .- . , Dramatic Troubles. " m , John H. Haverly follows Abbey and 1 »- - Gran in the track of bankrupnc~ " ' debts being 325,,000 while his; are only $16, 0'000 and poor at; that. What a precarious profeSSion,‘ clad in.- deed I can hardly mention a" dramatic . manager who has retired. with a c6111- petency. Looking back’ to hull? Old Park, its early managers, Cooper dud then Price and afterward Simpson :alL died poor. Hamblin, who gave fame to the BOwery theater, also died .po‘or. Mitchell of the Olympic shared the same fate. He was noted fcr- low prices and comic perfolma’hce and drew such gOod houses that he made " money, but misfortune overtook. him ‘ 1:», gun. . cessors. Laura Keene, whose vamety theater was at one time so attractive. ;. also died poor," and then there Was ’ .‘3. Booth, the greatest of‘modern trage- . ' “ dians, who started a theater bearing , his own name but was obliged to sur- . render it in a few years to ‘his ”credit- ' ors. having sunk $150,000, "which left him bankrupt. He afterWard re- , trieved his fortunes, but was the only .- l member of his professiOI‘l that did so. ' The latest instance, previous to Hav- erl‘y, was Oscar Hammerstein, who, sunk a million in his Olympia and is" now trying some scheme for retrieval. Yes, it is a precarious business, and yet there always seems sOmeone ready to engage in -.it Haverly was noted for his enterprise and had a dozen companies on, the road atone time- As an illustration of the immense ex- pense for printing bills it may be add- ed that -he owes One. lithographic firm $10, 000. This alone would take the’ profit of many a performance, but managers cannot economize and must, go at full headway until they burst. ,What a Striking ihStance of this is ' l and sympathy when they have a stom— ’ sch-ache. instead 0f being. laughed at.’.’ .—Wasbington Star. *- found in the ruinwhich befell Abbey , 1 ‘ and Gran! ' e» . ':" . 3 a Young Widow’l Dream. “I wonder,” said" Mr. Blykins in a pensive tone,‘ “why it is thart Children are always so anxious to forsake all their joyOus freedom from cars and be grown men.” “Maybe ” answered the young son. “it’s because grown men get attention » ,l
Norwalk Chronicler