4: THE EVENING GAZETTE THE MUTllAL Mpg RICHARD A. Mocusnr, President. Statement for the Year Ending Dec. 31,’97. According to the Standard of the Insurance Department of the State of New York. 5 1»: INGQMEQ Received for Premiums - . . . . . From all other Sources . . . . . $42,693,201 99 11,469,406 24 $54,162,608 23 ' Isn‘unsnmnnms. T0 Policyaholders for Claims by Death . . .' $13,279,630 66 T0 Policy=h01ders for Endowments, Dividends, etc. . . 12,712,424 76 For all other Accounts ' . . . . . '10,132,005 57 $36,124,060 99 ’ ASSEESO United States Bonds and other Securities . " . $132,017,341 45 First Lien Loans 0n Bond and Mortgage ' . . . 69,423,937 31 Loans on Stocks and Bonds . ‘ '. . . 12,880,308 00 Real Estate . . . . . . 21,618,454 88 Cash in Banks and Trust Companies . . . 11,705,195 82 Accrued Interest, Net Deferred Premiums, etc. . . 6,141,200 20 $253,786,437 33 Reserve for Policies and other Liabilities . . 218,278,243 07 Surplus . . . . . . $35,508,194 59 Insurance and Annuities in Force . . . $936,634,496 33 lhave carefully examined the foregoing Statement and find the same to be correct; liabilities calculated by the Insurance Department. CHARLES A. PRELLER, Auditor. From the Surplus a dividend will be apportioned as usual Report of the Examining Committee. Office of the Mutual Life Insurance Company of New York. To THE HONORABLE, THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES on THE MUTUAL LIFE IISUBAIGE COMPANY 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-fl ‘ ' 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 _ by the Treasurer, the Comptroller,the Auditor, and the Cashier, together with the r ective assistants of such oliicel.S and have carefully gone over all the items contained in the said Statement, and have found the same to be corre ct. They have examined and counted every certificate of stock, bond and other obligation held by the Company, and compared the prices at which the same are carried in said Statement with the market quotations, and find the same not exceeding 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 necqs. sary in such examination have been freely submitted to the Committee by the said officers and their assistants, and their, 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 recording its transactions and caring for the assets are entitled to commendation All of which is respectfully submibbud. CHAS. R. HENDERSON ELBRIDGE T. GERRY A. N ., WATERHOUSE NEW YORK, January 21, 1898. S. V. R. CRUGER J. HOBART HERRICK ”,JAMES 0. HOLDEN Board. of Trustees- GEORGE G. HAVEN ADRIAN ISELIN JR. GEORGE S. BOWDOIN WILLIAM C. WHITNEY WILLIAM ROOKEEELLER JAMES N. JARVIE CHAS D. DICKEY JR , ELRRIDGE T. -GEBP.Y JAMES SHEER; HENRY H. ROGERS JNo. W AUOHINOLoss THEODORE MORFORD WILLIAM BABCOCK STUYVESANT FISH Aneusrns D. J UILLIARD CHARLES E. MILLER WALTER R. GILLETTE H. WALTER WEBB FREDEBIC CROMWELL J ULIEN T. DAVIES A. N. WATERHOUSE S. V. R. CRUGER CHARLES R. HENDERsON Burns W. PECKHAM J. IIHOBART HEBRICK WE. P. DIXON ROBERT A. GRANNIss . SAMUEL D. BABCOCK RICHARD A. MCCUBDY JAMES C. HOLDEN HERMANN C. VON POST WILLIAM J. SEWELL OLIVER HARRIMAN ROBERT OLYPHANT GEORGE F. BAKER DUDLEY OLOOTT ROBERT A. GRANISS, Vice-President. , _ ‘WALTER R. GILLETTE, General Manager. - . ISAAC F. LLOYD, 2d Vice-President DUER du-P. BRECK, Corresponding-Secrets WILLIAM J. EASTON, Secretary. ._ ALBERT KLAMROTH, Assistant Secretary. _ j. .. FREDERIC CROMWELL, Treasurer. JOHN A. FONDA, Assistant Treasurer. JAMES TIMESON. 2d Assistant Treasurer. WILLIAM P. SANDS, Cashier. EDWARD l’. HOLDEN, Assistant Cashier. EMORY MOCLINTOCK, Actuary. JOHN TATLOCK, JR , Assistant Actuary. CHARLES A, PRELLER, Auditor. _ WILLIAM W. RICHARDS, Comptroller. C. CLIFFORD GRETSINGER, As-Jistant Auditor. HENRY S. BROWN, Assistant Comptroller JOHN C. ELLIO 1‘, Superintendent of Domestic Agencies. ' ED WARD LYMAN SHORT. General Solicitor. MEDICAL DIRECTORS: ‘ ELIAS J. MARSH, M. D' GRANVILLE )1. WHITE, M D_ G. S. WINSTON M. D. Consulting. , mesons a stunner, General Agents. A. E. CAMP, Local Agent. STRANGE Eu, THERING ANDGLOVE : I felt 1i (e Cortcz upon a memor- able occasion when the jeweler’s glass door swung behind me, and marching up to the counter, I asked for a ring. “A. rmg, sir?” said the attendant, a Cockney to his finger tips. “What sort of ring?” “An engagement ring,” said I, valor- ously. “What size, sir?” demanded man, docketing me mentally. “Five and a half,” I replied, thinkr ing of the glove. “That’s rather an unusual size,” he remarked, rubbing one eyebrow, “un- less it’s a. bangle the lady wants.” I’m not sure that she wants it at all,” I murmured, producing the little sandalwood-scented bit of silk; “but that is the size, I think.” “Oh—its the size of the lady’s ’and,” he observed with mild toleration, un- rolling it. “Well, sir. iadics‘ fingers vary in girth, and it’s more usual to fit them with a piece of cardboard: but we’ll do our best.” ”Could not the member be tuted?” I asked impressively. That knocked the conceit out him; he stared at me helplessly. “Fill it with powder or something,” I explained. It took him five minutes of self disci- pline to grasp the startling novelty but he did, and, under my direction, filled the third finger sheath with plate powder, which I rammed home with my pencil case. Then, producing a miniture calliper, he took measure— ments, and began to search the scin- tillating stock, displaying a reverent familiarity most impressive to be- hold. Cleopatra, how they dazzled! Pearls, rubble§, emeralds, iamonds, each challenging the admiration, but checking the desire by the narrow parchment slip attached setting forth the price. Forty pounds, fifty pounds, onehundrred pounds; it was a charm- ed place, where money lost its every- day significance, for What man of spirit would be content to offer the girl of his heart a thing costing a miserable tenner when close beside it twinkled a rosy diamond worth a wilderness of monkeys?" I felt al- most pauperized, X’s-collecting that I had only sevd'nty-flve pounds avail- able from the Derby hundred. ” “Now, sir, Whatdo you thlnk of this?” asked the sitesman patroniz- ingly, as be displayed an opal change- the reconsti- of ful as the shifting sunlight on a misty sea. It’s exactly the lady's size. making allowances, of course, she won’t want to wear it over ’er glove. “Are not Opals unlucky?” said I endeavoring to decipher the price. “Oh, we don’t hold with such super‘ stition,” replied the jeweller loftily, “but they do say one will keep. you from being pOiSOned." “Then I shall leave it for the next. rich widow,” I answered. “But what is the cost of this?" I alluded to an emerald set amid pearls, whigh I already saw glitter- ing on the lovE‘aic-st hand in the world. He extracted it with a silent respect be borrowed from my eager- ness, and made a measurement while I watched him, my heart beating madly. The size was exactly the size; he price—but this is a detail. I decided upon it. TAN? shopnmn thank- ed me perfunctOI-i»':-y, and I leaned against the counter, feeling like one Who was receiving a great favor. But when I__fumbled in my pockets for “the, notes and heard their crisp crackle my confidence returned, and then as I watched the splendid thing flashing in its violet bed I believed I must aftpr all be a rich man, on kHOWn to myself, so great was the suggestion'of unlimited wealth thus conifeyed. -‘ “I should like a piece of glass on the inside of the casa lid,” I Observed carelessly. “Is it usual?” “That’s lookingglass?" queried the lapidary, glancing up from a surrepti- tious examination of the notes.” I nodded. I knew i must be getting red. “Well,” he remarked 'tolerzlntiy. “it’s not exactly. usual, but it’s a pretty idea—’ightens the attraction of the gem, malt-es the lady see the present from two points of View.” “Hardly an advantage sometimes," I observed: “but can you do it?” “Well, yes. I should think,” he re- plied condescendlngly. “Then get it done. and I shall stand the racket!” I answered magnificent- ly. Ho hurried away to effect the alter- ation, his place being taken by a bald- headed salesman wno wore spectacles, and talkd to me over them sooth- in-gly. as one would 'to a person of weak intellect, while I formulated pi- raticnl schemes, and asked him pue- rile questions with a gravity equal- ling his own. When I left the shop I headed straight for—Bloomsbury Square, but remembering that she might be just then occupied with domestic duties, decided to call later in the day. Even the ring in my pocket gave me no ad- ditional courage, and presently I be- gun to think it was not royal enough. Edging my way to Regent’s Park, I hunted out a quiet spot and sat down to examine it at leisure. It was glori- ous still, but somehow not so glorious as I could have wished, and the ever- lasting flint would have 'worn well be- neath it. Something more of the inte lect than of sense, made 'merlook up. and I saw her. The sensation of being shot through the heart has not, I believe, received adequate literary expression, those who experienced it being preoccupied at the exact moment with other mat- ters; but I think I know what it menus. She stopped. and we gazed at, each Other. She. was in deep black, but the puller had gone from her oval ~o . a...“- cheeks. 'She made me a-halfrtentatlve bow. I sprang to my feet. “I’m so glad to see you,” I cried, “because—I want to restore something . you forgot in the restaurant yester—- a few weeks ago.” “How kind of you!” she said, coma ing near. ' “Oh,'not at all,” I replied; “but I hope you were not inconvenienced. I should have sent it, but I—-I didn’t.” I put my hand in my breast pocket hurriedly, and extracted my handker- chief, which in turn brought to light a sheaf of letters and a memoranda I shookout at her feet like a skillful ‘ conjurer. Then I tried the other pock- et, but vainly. “It’s a glove,” I said weakly. gathering up my belongings, “one Of yours, don’t youknow.” “I recollect—I missed it,” she said coldly. “But the cab went so quickly,” I pleaded; “xii, do sit down until I find it'!” She did so. I am in a gentle perspira- lion. “Hurrah, have it!” I cried, and I extracted the wisp of silk fro-m my watch pocket, where I 1had thrust it on leaving the shop. “SO kind of you,” she observed, taking it. Then the powder ran out over her dress. “How stupid!” I gasped, complete- ly demoralized now and taking the glove I shook it vigorously until I had Created a miniature dust storm. She sneezed. I devoutly wished that the flying machine was an accomplished fact. “It’s ruined,” I muttered woefully, for it certainly represented a piebuld appearance. She smiled. perutely: “Would you allow me to keep it—— the thing is of no use now?” "Why?” she answered quietly: but the voice as low. “To remind me of that happy day," I replied, shying. “Indeed? I am glad you think of it: as a pleasant one,” she said gracious- ly. “Mr. Turnbull was declaiming all the way back in the cab. He seemed prejudiceoagainst you.” “He may be described as a man who means well,” I observed severely. “I 'hope he said something, action- able.” I nOh, thardly that!" laughingly; “but he seems to have changed” his opinion lately. Your name happened to come up in conver- sation to-day, and he said”— She parsed; a sudden flame leaped into her checks. “that did he say?” trying to look away. “He said you were an honorable man.” she repied. the point of her I sat down, saying des- she answered, I demanded, parasol tracing 'a lopsided isosceles triangle in the dust, “but"—— . “Ah there is much virtue in that ‘but.’ ” I observed bitterly. “That you ought to settle down." she continued, tossing her head and rising. “So I shall,” I cried, “but it dopc‘nds upon my lady. I have her portrait here in this case. " if} is the only girl I shall ever care for in that way.” I added. because even a little qualifica- tion does no harm at even the most “ exalted moments. “By the way. she is an ‘acqupintance of yours, too.” and press-ing the spring. I handed the cas- ket to her as the lid flew back. She glanced at me curiously, very pale now. I. weak about the knees. watch- ed a child trundle a hodp past us. She uttered a little cry that sank into a sobbing lnzng. Then she sat down beside me and put one of the hands I hope to hold when Denthheck- ous me. down the. last dim turning of Life’s road. into mine. ' “I trust she v: ll make you a good wife.” she said grave yr. And— Well surely man born of woman can guess the rest. » ~r ~. “'hen Letlern ‘J-‘ere Scarce. To write a letter in the middle ages was no joke—a task which none out a priest or a. scribe by profession would willingly encounter. Letter-writing in early times was re- sorted to Only on occasions of mo- ment: even letters of familiarity fre— quently took the form of legal instru- ments. Till a comparatively later period, too, vellum was the substance upon which they were written. and scribes were employed to indite them. The earliest letter written in Eng- land now remainiug is probably that of Wuldhan, Bishop of London. to Beretuald, Archbishop of Canterbury, preserved in the Cottonian - Manu— scripts, desiring his advice as to the mode of proceeding at a council, sum- moned at a. place called Breyuntford (Brentford), for settling certain dif- ferences which had arisen between the king and the said council. Beretuald was Archbishop of Canterbury from A. D. 692 to A. D. 731. The letter is greatly injured, and al- together too difficult to be perfectly made out; a solitary record of early epistolary intercourse in the Saxon times. No other letter is known of previous to the Norman Conquest. After the Conquest, letters became more numerous, but all either in French, the tongue of the Norman mas- ters, or in Latin, the then universal language of educated men-throughout Europe. ' Nearly all of those in the collection in these languages are by priests. The constant turmoil and insecurity in which the laity then lived, made it im- possible for them to cultivate writing; but the want of a cheap and good ma- terial to write on was to the full, as great a drawback. .Our earliest use of paper in epistol- ary correspdhdence cannot be carried farther back than the reign of Edward II, during whose reign, or in the lat- . ter part of his father's time, it seems to have been brought from the east by: way of Italy. '“""‘ I t HE DID NOT COME BACK. 1“ But in the Morn ing A It the Trenches Wei. 1) u 5:. When-the American line had fought ' its way to the top of the hills at El Paso and San Juan and (Janey, Gell~ eral Wheeler issued an order that every command should dig trenches in preparation for the conflict that he knew would break out again in the morning. But the soldiers had thrown away most of their trenching tools during the fierce rifle charges, and as darkness fell upon the scene of battle they threw themselves upon the ground and went to sleep from sheer exhaustion. Adjutant Hood, of the Rough Riders, noting this condition of affairs. rode over to General Wheeler’s tent and informed the good Old veter- an that the men were played out. ”Wheeler at the time was lying upon his cot more dead than alive, but there was a smile upon his lips and his never-failing good humor twinkling in his eyes, when Adjutant Hood said: “General. I’m afraid our men can’t dig the trenches.” ' “What men?” asked the general. “The cavalry division,” said the ad- jutaut. General IVheelor sat up in bed and began pulling on his boots. “Send me the man,” he directed. “What man?” asked the udjutant. “The man who can’t dig trenches." “But it is not one _man; it is many men. They are just played out.” “But you can surely find one man who says he can’t dig the trench. I only want one. Go, get him and bring him to me.” “But there are—” v “I don’t care how many there are. GO get me one.” The adjutant had never faced such a man as Wheeler before and he did not know just what to make of the conversation. The little old general was as smooth and suave and courte- ous as could be, and Hood had noth- ing to do but to ride back to the line. In some way he managed to round up a colored trooper belonging to the 9th Cavalry, and brought him back to the division headquarters. He stood look- ing sheepishly at the ground when Wheeler addressed him. “Are you the man who says 'he can't dig these trenches?” asked the gener- al. - The negro’s feet shuffled uneasily on the ground. “I’se one of ’em, boss. but there’s 3—” ‘The general stoppd him and walked out of his tent. . “You can go to sleep now, my man, and I’ll go up and dig your trench for you. When the sun comes up tO—mor- row morning the Spaniards are going to open on us, and every man who isn’t protected is not only in danger of being killed, but will be unable to help maintain our own position. The trenches have to be dug, and if you are unable to dig yours I’ll just go out and dig it for you. Where’s your pick?” W'ith the ‘most business-like air in the world Wheeler slid into his coat and turned toward the big cavalry- man. The man’s eyes opened as he saw the proceedings. and they began to bulge when the general motioned to him to lead the way to his camp. For half a minute his voice stuck in his throat, and then he said: “Boss, you ain’t fit to dig no trenches. If they done got to be dug I’ll just naturally do it myself. I’m dog tired, but that ain’t work for you.” Wheeler stopped and looked at the man with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I know it isn‘t work for me to do," he said, “but I am going to need sol-_ dicrs in the morning, and I am going to save your life if possible. Do you think now that you can dig the trench?” The-negro started up the hill with- out a word. Then the general turned to Adjutant Hood, with a voice as pleasant as sunshine in May. “He seems to have changed his mind," he said. “Ne w, you go and find me another man who can’t dig trench- es.” The adjutant bowed and rode 013’. He never came back. In the morning the trenches were dug—Atlanta Con- stitution. ~ He Was Altogether T00 Literal. ' A San Francisco hostess, famous for her tact and resourcefulness, tells :1 good story on herself. It seems that an officer in one of the Tennessee com- panies. a very shy young man, brought letters with him when his regiment came to the coast. and presented him- self oue evening at the (let us say) Van Ness avenue residence. As he was the son of a well-known public man and a member of an old family. his hostess exerted herself to entertain him. “We should be glad to hsve‘the pleasure of your company Friday at dinner,” she said. as he was leaving; “the Hawai- ian Commissioners are to be with us.” Friday came, and . the Commission. Shortly before the hour for dinner the butler excitedly entered the room. “They’s a regiment of soldiers, mum, outside.” “No doubt in honor of the Commissioners; I will tell them.” Just then the lieutenant was- announced, “When you are ready,” he said, “I will have the men march to their places in formation.” “Why,” said the hostess, “what men?” “It’s my company,” was the reply, “all but ten, and they’re sorry, but they couldn't come.”——San Francisco Argonaut. “Pompey, how did you like my sermon?” asked a vain and rather long-winded preacher to a black man who had sat under the gallery. Pompey was still aching. with the ' fatigue of listening to the forty-min. ute discourse. . “Well, boss,” he replied, “I ,t’ink yo' went by a lot 0’ mighty good stoppin’
Norwalk Chronicler