TWO KINDS OF PEOPLE.
No; the two kinds of people on earth-
I mean
’Are the people who lift and the people ~
who lean.
Wherever you go you will find the
world’s masses
'Are always divided
two closses.
in just these
And, oddly enough, you will find, too,
I ween,
There is only one lifter to twenty who
lean.
In which class are you? Are you easing
the load
Of overtaxed lifters who toil down the.
road?
01‘ are you a leaner, who lets others
bear r
Your portionmf labor and worry and
care?
—Ella Wheeler 'Tilcox.
A warm Add. _-
Son-1e apostle of things occult has
said that the lines that are past re-
sume their thread with fate in the
living of the present. Vows made in
centuries gone by, and since neglect-
ed. can be expiated by lip-s that whis-
p": them today,
c is an ingenious sophistry, for in
l mance all lips have whispered the
time words of ilove today, yesterday
:.nd to-morrow.
NOW I am not a romantic fell-ow. I
have plenty of money and have never
been permitted to see or feel these
stirring emotions that make tragedies
in life.~ My past in the human drama
has been a lazy, dozing, peaceful one.
I have stood in the midst of dramatic
scenes; I have looked into the faces of
men, scarred and wounded in contact
with the world, and passed on. 1
may have felt sorry forthe seamy
side of life, realizing that suffering
was distinctly opposite to pleasure,
but that is all. When I could help the
pain with money I have done so; but
then I had plenty—it was no eifort to .
give it away.
I am doing something ”to-night I do
not exactly remember to have done
bfore consistently—I am thinking.
. “ the novelty of the thing, I am
wril. ‘ down on paper what I think,
becaust occurs to me I may forget
all about if I don't, and it will help
me to remember what I have neglect-
ed to do all these years—to get mar-
ried.
I don’t believe in doing this sort of
thing fornioney. T'hose story-writing
“fellers” never mean a word of what
they write. but I do; therefore my
story shall be priceless.
I strolled into the “Black Cait“ to-
night for dinner. I was tired of the
club. tired of Delmonico's. tired of din—
ing out. so. instead of turning off
Fifth avenue at Thirty—fifth street to
my chambers. I walked on and on, till
I could smell the garlic and lodging
houses of Bicecker street, and. having
crossed the once aristocratic ‘d'ashing—
ion Square. I came to a little house
with two lumps on the steps. and be-
tween them. swinging in the air
above. the picture of a villainous look—
ing cat. with a tail like a capital 8.
It was a French restaurant, where all
the delicacies of the season, in seven
courses. were advertised for the mod-
cst sum of titty cents. I had survived
many cheap table d‘hotcs abroad with-
out permanent injury. and, besides. l
was not really hungry. I was only
bored.
The waiter looked at me searching-
ly. hung up my coat, then with
marked deliberation counted out one
spoon. one knife, one fork and one
butter plate before me. Then he said:
”Will inOl'lsi-cur take the ordinary or
the superior?"
-t was because of the superior gift:
of life that l was bored, so I said or-
dinary.
The room was full. I do not l‘Olll'Oill'
‘ocr the faces of any of the people I
saw. They were ordinary men and
women. looking a little more tired and
less interested in their dinners that:
the men and women whom I had seen
at Delmonico‘s. I was disappointed.
There was really nothing unusual or
odd in the whole transaction except-
ing the dinner and its service. and I
was about to move away. when. by
chance, I looked a second time at :1
pair of dark eyes that I found gazing
at me with quiet interest. ’
I looked at the hat above them.
It was a hood affair, with plenty of
rich black velvet about it, and a light
v steel butterfly holding the huge bow
together. There was a broad. pliable
brim that cast a shadow over the face
when she bowed her head.
I was particularly interested in the
hat, because it was elegant yet Sim-
ple. and up above. in the fashionable
quarter where I came from, that was
what the u'omer were most proud of.
When I looked under the hat. I
found thick. black hair, ported in two
rippling waves. slanting over a low.
broad forehead, white and smooth.
Then came who eyebrows. as though
darkly pom-lied. with arching grace
over the eyes. She was simply dressed
in gray. To my mind the dress was
cheap, and I did not look at it again.
because I don‘t like cheap things.
Dining with. her was an eccentric,
sallow-lookim; man. who wore specta-
cles. I Observed that his hair seemed
'a massive, llizcombed quantity, (loom-
ed to go about thesworld upon a head
shaped like an egg. He was young.
apparently, but sickly. and this
strange escort made me wonder still
more about the lovely face.
Presently she returned my gaze
wirn lllltlTIC-L'zt'fl mun-est, and it flash.
ed across my mino’ that we had met
before. but «anally- It had not been
a more transient acquaintance, but we
had known each other intimately well.
“he seemed to know each other then.
butsome link from the past was miss-
ing: and we could only look at each
THE EVEINING' oAzn'rrE
othernthere was no excuse to speak.
Her face inleired the most reverents
regard I had ever held for a woman,
and I felt sorry for the cheap dress
and shoddy escort. Even the hat was
familiar to me, and the bright butter-
[iy glistening like silver in the nest of
rich black velvet seemed to assure me
that we were old firends.
At length they finished dinner; he
put a slight little cape about her
shoulders; they passed out and were
gone, and the place seemed suddenly
empty to me. I did not follow them
—that would have been rude—s0, sat-
isfied that my memory had clearly
photographed her face, I paid my bill
and passed out into the street.
As I crossed Washington Square
the poor people about were more no‘
ticcable to me than usual. I found in
their faces a pardon for poverty. Was
it because I had seen that cheap, gray
dress? Could a pair of darkeyes real-
ly change the scene of life to more
tender aspect? It seemed so, for I
did what I usually reserved for an
office of duty, I walked into my fath-
er's house with an assurance in my
mind that I should enjoy the visit.
I found my father in the dining—room
alone, lingering over his favorite ci-
gar after dinner.
“Well, Dick, this is kind of you to
drop in on us in this way. Your moth—
er will be glad to see you. You’re such
a wayward boy, since you’ve grown
to manhood,” he said, kindly, as he
motioned me to a Chair, and pushed
the cigars and decanter toward me.
It'was very still in the room, the el—
gars were of the best, the liquor
dain-tily served, and somehow or oth-
er I found the old gentleman more
chummy than he had ever seemed to
me before.
“Dick, marriage is a good thing for.
a‘ young fellow like you with plenty
of money. A. wife gives you something
to think about—something to do,” said
my father, seriously.
“Well, some day—«some day!” I an-
swered, vaguely.
“What happened between you and
Dolly, Dick? We all thought you
were .fairly caught then.”
“Nothing. only she was too good.
too bright, too clever for an ordinary
chap like myself. I felt as though
she would never be happy with a tire-
some fellow like me. You know she
was a line pianist. I couldn’t appre-
ciate that. I never cared for music.
She could spend all day in a picture
gallery. I couldn’t unless it were full
of photographs of pretty women and
there you are. Dolly ought to marry
a genius. It’s the kind of man she
could worship.\
My father puifed vigorously at his
cigar awhile, then his eyes became
fixed on an oil painting that hung on
the wall behind me. I turned and
looked. too.
It. was the portrait of a woman.
Only the head and face were visible.
A wide-brimmed hat covered with
rich. black velvet, was brightened by
rt jewellcd butterfly, pinned just at the
bow knot.
Thick. dark hair, parted in wavy
grace over a. low, white forehead.
The eyes were dark, with faint, arched
brows.
{The lips. the nose, the chin! It was
the same face—identically the same
face I had seen in the little cafe near
Elihu-kel- street—the girl in the cheap
l‘ra y dress.
"That's your style of beauty—-ch.
Elicia?" said my father, seeing I 'as
absorbed in the picture.
“Yes,” I answered, simply. '
“Wt-ll, I admire your taste, but you
don’t see such faces to-day. The
fashions have changed; the morals
have changed since your grandmother
sat for that portrait.”
“Who painted-it?”
“i-Icr husband. She was the sort. of
woman you spoke of just now, like
Dolly. She sang beautifully, She loved
pictures. she wrote poetry—~”
“Go on," I said. my eyes eagerly
watching the vivid portrait of the
past.
"Well. these things are all good in
a way. but they are not practical. She
married an artist. Just such a fellow
as you would. choose for Dolly—full of
romance and poetry and fire. He
painted that portrait of her and they
fell in love, and were married secret—
ly." ’
Elly fathers voice was less deliberate
i’aOVV.
“For five years they struggled. Her
father would never forgive her reck-
lessness, his adoration, and she died.
After that they were sorry. They
found her body in poor lodgings, with
one dress on her back."
“Yes, yes, I know. It was a nasty.
choarp. gray dress,” I said, interrupt-
i-ng him, and, turning around, I saw
my father’s astonished face.
“How did you know that?”
“A chance. I messed at it, that was
all.” I answered, apologetically.
But the facts were irrevocable.
I had met the exact counterpart of
my paltrici-an grandmother, in shoddy
circumstances, in a cheap restaurant.
Was there some truth in the occult
saying, that vows neglected in cen-
turies past could be explained by lips
that should whisper pardon to-day?
This is why I am thinking tonight,
and this is why I have written down.
as consistently as an amateur scribbler
can. the record of my adventure.
What I really think is, that if I ever
meet those dark eyes again, I will
find a way to explate the vows neg-
lected in that past century.
I will relieve her of frowny escorts
with uncombed hair, because they
may be poor geniuses, and she shall
never wear a cheap gray dress again,
Maggie (aged seven)—Wuz"youso to
Mrs. Brennan’s fun’ral yistid’y? We
wuz.
Katie (aged tom—Dal; wuz'n Mrs.
Brennan’s fun’ral; it wuz Mr. Brennan'v,
Maggie—“Tell. Mrs. Brennan gev it.
1111,11, aha? ....— pk“ a.dn‘n});0 Darn-uni
I
WAR LEFTTHEM 30.3
“M.
'What Befell a Veteran of the Civil War
Long After His Discharge.
An old colonial soldier lying in a
hospital improvised for the occasion af-
ter th'b battle of Surat-ego was patient-
ly waiting until his time came for ex-
amination. When the physicians sur-
‘——c——.u——(~‘——
a bullet. in his chest, he opened his
shirt bosom, shot his eyes and said,
“I’m ready.” Neither groan, Sigh or
cry escaped him, but as the probe
reached the piece of lead he opened his
eyes and said : “Doctor, an inch deep-
er and you will find General VVashing-
lagoon.” In the {evolution and Civil
War the American soldier withstood
hardships that almost equalled those
when Napoleon retreated from Moscow,
and Sir John Moore retired to‘Corruna.
Disease left its mark and shattered
the strong constitutions of the best.
NO organ of the human body suffered
“more than the kidneys, and veteran
W. R. Green, of 4-1 Spring street,
South Nor-walk, engineer at. Crofut &
Knapp’s hat. facfory, only echoes the
experience of thousands of his com-
rades, when he says " I was a. boy when
I enlisted in the army, and exposure
and hardships weakened me physically.
In the factory we use under the boilers
about two tons of coal per day, and as I
(10 my own tiring I have. to handle it. It
was quite a job for a man who had
trouble with his kidneys. and I was al-
ways anxious to get rid of it. Slight.
urinary difficulty set. in and as I no-
ticed an advertisement about Dean’s
Kidney Pills curing such cases I got. a
box and look them. After taking the
first box my back did not ache. I felt
so much better, and the secretions were
natural.I an] recommendingDoan’s Kid—
ney Pills to the workmen of the factory.
Dean’s Pills for sale. by all deal-
ers. Price {)0 cents. Mailed by Foster-
Milburn (70., Buffalo, N. Y.,sole agents
for the U. S. Remember the name
Doan’s and take no substitute.
M— . H-M “‘1‘
.;
THE PEESlAN’JEWELS.
A Description of Their Splendor Reads
Like 3 Fairy Tale.
A writer in the Illustrated Magazine
says: Who has not heard of the Per-
sian jewels—their glory, their num~
ber, their priceless worth? When the
doors were unlocked and I was taken
into the peacock throne room I found
myself surrounded Iby a mass of
wealth unequalled in the world. No-
where are such treasures, but nowhere
also is tillere such an accumulation of
rubbish. I will, however, dismiss she
rubbish and refer only to the treas-
ures. Down each side of the room
were chairs entirely covered with
sheeted gold, and at intervals there
were-tables of gold nailed, and I shud-
dered to note, with the commonest of
black headed Itacks.
At the far end of the room was the
wonder of the world, .the peacock
throne. Whether it is one of the
seven throne-s of the great Mogul and
was brought from Delhi, I don‘t know,
but it is certainly rtlhe most costly or-
nament that 'the eye can look upon.
I inspected it most carefully. It is en-
tirely of silver, a great camp—bed
structure, but modeled in lovely de-
signs. It is encrusted from end to
end and from top to bottom with dia-
monds. 133-.
At the ‘back‘is a star of .brillianuts
that makes you blink. The rug on
which the shah sits is edged with
precious stones, and the pillow on
which he reclines is covered with
pearls. I could keep on writing about
the dazzling beauty of the throne of.
' the king of kings, but I never could
get beyond declaring it to be a superb
jewel.
. But although the peacock throne is
the magnum opus of the Persian
crown jewels, it by no means extin-
guishes the magnificence of the other
treasures. Who can attempt, howev-
er, to recount the number of bejewel-
ed arms, the royal arms, the flashing
aigrets, the trays piled up with cut
and uncut stones and the bowls filled
with pearls that you can run through
your fingers like a handful of rice?
Every one has heard of the Daria-i-
Nur, or Sea of Light, sister—diamond
of the Kohinoor, or Mountain of
Light. Every one has also heard
about the Globe of the World, made of
seventy-live pounds of pure gold and
51,326 gemsflthe sea of emeralds, Per-
, sin of turquoises, India of amethysts,
[ Africa of rubies, England and France
of diamonds.
Val vet Very Fashionable.
Velvet in all shades and varieties will
be fashionable, both as an accessory
and for the making of redlngotes, un-
der-dresses, and complete costumes.
Black undoubtedly takes precedence,
but marked favor is shown to new, very
elegant shades in Russian green, dam.
son, orchid purple—a superb color,
with a glow of crimson in it—to dark
sumac red, and a complete grade of
rich, becoming browns, which include
the Havana, cedar, seal, chestnut, and
marqulse dyes.
meat?” asked the lady Whose children
are old enough to go to school, accord.
ing to the Washington Star.
“No,” answered the young man Who
had been a private. “It wasn’t the
fault of the Corporal. If anybody’g to
; blame it’s some one a good deal higher
' up in rank."
It. is far wiser to keep dis-
TRUE ease away than to fight. it.
after it comes. An occa-
sional dese of Hostel;-
WISBQM t-er’s Stomach Bitters
makes people hungry
at. meal time. and gives the diges-
Ilve apparatus power to get. full
nutrition out 0: loot].
THUS sonar
islaf‘JEFllGTI-l IS lliAlN- HOSTETTEB’S
2 ' I ‘_D, THE
3 gLeochEPr PURE, STUMACH
DIVLASE 01‘ WT
grille A moraine. ENTERS
r
rounded his humble pallet to probe fpr .
“Do you believe in corporal! fiuniSh- .
(if 133
ii: ”.3
' ,. j 3,?” It’ll.” It?“ ”435
1 Al. it. t. . in in.
§
OF NEW YORK.
renew n.1MoGURDY, President. .
tatemoli ill tilt ital Ending D30. Still.
According to the Standard of the Insurance Department of the State of New York. ‘
Received for remiums . . . .
From all other Sources . . . . .
$42,693,201 99
M23 -
$54,162,608 23
URSE’MEN'DS’
To all cysholders for Claims by Death . . . $13,279,630
To Olicy=holdero for Endowments, Dividends, etc. . 12,712,424 76
For all other Accounts . . . . . . 10,132,00; 5.7
. $36, 124,060 99
United States Bonds and other Securities ' . . $132,017,341 45
. First Lien Loans on 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
fl"—_
Reserve for Policies and other Liabilities . . 32%1373’323 o“;
Surplus . - - - - - $35,503m'
Insurance and Annuities in Force . . . $936,634,496 63
lhavp carefully examined the foregoing Statement and find the same to be correct.
liabilities calculated by the Insurance Department. CHARLES A. PRELLER Auditor-
" 9
From the Surplus a dividend will be apportioned as none.
Report of title Entertaining Committee.
8.
Office of the Mutual Life Insurance Company of New York.
'1 (1 rue I‘IONORABLE. THE BOARD OF TRUSTEES or
TEE METHAL LIFE EHWRMQE GBMPAHY 0? NEW Willi. 5 .
The undersigned, a Committee appointed by your honorable body, on the twenty- l"
second day of December, l897,to examine the Annual Statement of the Company and f
to verify the same, respectfully—W
\ REPOREX“
That, pursuant: to the power and authority thereby conferred, the Committee have, at. various dates between the
date of th e 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 respective assistants of such officers 5
and have myefully gone over all the items contained in the said Statement, and have found the same to be corre 31".. They
have examined and counted every certificate of stock, bond and other obligation held by the Company, and compared
t. which the same are carried in said Statement with the market quotations, and find the some 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 holdingg of real estate and have verified the deposits of money in the various banks and trust companles and
have counted the cash on hand held by the Cashier. I ,
And the Committee certify that. all the books, papers, documents, and evidence of title of every description neces-
sary in such examination 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 Companyin r cording its transactions and caring for the assets are entitled to commendation
All of which is respectfully submitted. CHAS. R. HENDERSON ELBRIDGE T. GERRY A. N. WATERHOUSF
New YORK. January 21, 1898. S. V. R. CRUGER J. HOBART HERRICK JAMES C. HOLDEN I
the prices a
“Board. of Trustees-
HENRY H. ROGERS
Jim. W AocmuoLoss
THEODORE MOBFORD
WILLIAM BABOOOK
SrurvnSAN'r FISH
AUGUSTUS D. J UILLIABD
CHARLES E. MILLER
WALTER R GILLETTE
. 7H. WALTER WEBB
GEORGE G. HAVEN
ADRIAN ISELIN JR.
GECUtGE S. BOWDOIN
WILLIAM C. WHITNEY
WILLIAM BoonanLEn
JAMES N. JABYIE
CHAS D. DIOKEY JR
ELBRIDGE T. anar‘
JAMES Sparse;
SAMUEL D. BABCOC'K
RICHARD A. MCCUBDY
JAMES C. HOLDEN
HERMANN C. VON POST
WILLIAM J. SEWELL
OLIVER HARRIuAN
honour ULYPHAN'I
(ieosoa F. BAKER
DUDLEY Onco'r'r I
I Fermmo CROMWELL
JULIEN T. DAVIES
A. N. \VATERHOUSE
S. V. It. CRUGER
CHARLES R. HENDERSON
RUFUS W. PEGKHAM
J. HOBART HERRIOK
Wu. P. DIXON
ROBERT A. GRANNISS
ROBERT A. GRANISS, Vice-President.
WALTER B. GILLETTE, General Manager.
ISAAC I". LLOYD, 2d Vice-President. DUEh du—P. BRECK, Corresponding Secretary
WILLIAM J. EASTUN, Secretary. ALBERT KLAMRUTH, Assistant Secretary,
FREDERIO CROMW ELL, Treasurer. '
JOHN A. FONDA, Assistant Treasurer. JAMES TIMI-SON. 2d Assistant Treasurer.
WILLIAM P. SANDS, Cashier. EDWARD P. HOLDEN, Assistant Cashier.§ ,.
EMORY MoCLlNTOCK, Actuary. ' '
J OHN TATLOOK, JR , Assistant. Actuary. *
CHARLES A, PRELLER, Auditor. WILLIAM W . RICHARDS, Comptroller.
Cl. 0L1}: FORD GRETSIN GER, As-iistant Auditor. HENRY S. BROWN, Assistant Comptroller; ;
t " " JOHN C. ELLIOT, Superintendent of Domestic Agencies.
33') W ARD LYMAN SHORT, General Solicitor.
- MEDIOAL DIRECTORS: _,
ELI. .‘w' J. MARSH, M. D' GRANVILLE M. WHITE, M D
U. ‘73. WINSTON M. D. Consulting.
um. “11‘
a. It”. batik, heal Agents
Norwalk Chronicler