/.
' 01111 YOUTHS’COLUMN
Th 1:
avunis
THE BROKEN TOY SOLDIER. i
i
No pension bureau offers us reward for 1
service done; I
We wear no medals on our breast for
gallant battles won,
Yet no one of Napoleon’s, nor one of
Caesar’s host ;
Has made himself a record such as
even I can boast.
l I
IV’Ctll'S
They work toy soldiers harder than
real soldier—men, you see;
A. march of fifty thousand miles is
nothing much to me.
I lost a leg at Marathon, an arm atl
Monterey; .t
Was left for dead at Gettysburg—ail
on the self—same day. I
And as I lie forgotten now, no longer
fit to roam,
I wish some millionaire would found a
poor Toy Soldiers’ Home.
—Marguerite Tracy in St. Nicholas.
Seen Playing Leapfr.og
“The funniest thing I ever aw in2
a black bear family,” said Bob Elli-
son, an old t—ime trapper in the Rocky
mountains, “was one day last summe1.
Pa1ke1' and I had trailed a she bear to
a heavy g"1o11tl1 of timber down in a
baby canyon. When we came in sight
of the bear home we were not seen, so .
we sat down with our rifles across our !
laps and watched the family. The;
mother bear had three cubs and it
seemed that she had left them home
while she went skirmishing for forage. i
“She had just got home with what ithere” she said half aloud
life on unselfishness. When the cubs.
‘fi.
.treasurcs of others.
,earth over it with deliberate care. His
.ta brush and over bowlders, while
_‘the cubs would follow as best they
1" could.
looked like the carcass of a coyotel
when we came along. IVell, the way
those old bears pulled that carcass to
pieces and divided it among the cubs .
was mighty interesting. We could
see that the parents were all—fired .
hungry themselves, and that they
looked with longing eyes as the boys '
and girls chewed the meat and bones
down, but they never seemed to want
a bit while the children were hungry.
If you could have seen how the old he
bear sat on his hind legs and watched
the meat disappear while he could get
a sniflf of the feast it would have
taught you the greatest lesson of your
were through eating the mother and
father bear chewed a little about the
bare bones and lapped up some blood,
but that was all they got. Then the
fun began, and you never saw a better
show in your life in any theatre.’ The
cubs and their dad rolled and tumbled
about the ground; they played leap
frog over one another, they pulled
one another about by the tail, and the
cubs would all together jump on their
father and pull and haul him until he
must have been sore. Once in a while
they would vex him and partner and
I hollere out loud to see how he
would haste them with a forepaw.
Then the she bear joined in the fun,
and the whole familypitchcd onto the
old man, just as you see boys fool
with their dad. The parent bears
chased each other about the manzani-
I’ll swear those bears had such
a. good time that I heard them laugh
themselves. IVel-l, this kept up for
two hours. Then the old man Bruin
went off to hunt for his food, and you
may believe it or not, partner and I
had several chances to shoot that 1
whole family, but I’ll be darned if
there’s money enough in bear pelts to
get us to fire into such a. fine lot of
folks as then. Why, it would be just
like murder. . '
A. Dog’s Bright. Idea.
A collie had been much annoyed by
the conduct of a neighbor’s dog
which was too lazy to bury bones for
its own consumption, but greatly en-
joyed the pleasure of unearthing the
When Don had
been deprived of several choice stores
in this way, he evidently meditated
over the vexing matter, and at last a
right idea came to him.
.One day after dinner, when the
neighbor‘s dog was out of the way.
Don began to dig a hole not far from
where his mastersat watching him.
The hole. was unusually deep; in it be
deposited a big and still eminently de-
sirable bone. ’ Then he covered it well
with earth, disappeared for a moment.
and came trotting back with a small
bone which had seen its best and sec-
ond-best days, but was still good
enough, in Don’s opinion, for a thief.
This bone he laid on the earth
which hid the big one, a.nd.scraped the '
master had the satisfaction of know-
ing that {the ruse we. is successful, for
next morning he saw the thief hastily
leaving the premises with the small
bone in his mouth.
Later in the day Don reaped the re-
ward of his wisdom. as he sat munch-
ing and crunching the big bone at his
leisure. i
l
The Queen Bumble Bee. .
The length of life of a queen bumble
‘ some
‘ live."
' HER {MN SlENGE‘.
It was a question of conscience—a
New England. conscience.
moreover it began with a capital C.
“I've got it in the house. and 1
might as well make if up," innsed
\iiss H:.1nn 1h Davis.
"‘It’ uas a dress —a silk
relic of days gone by.
"it’s been lying there all these
' she‘went 011, “and it seems
to 11 kind of sinful packed away tl'. c:‘
and not doing a- soul a mite 'of good.
lt ain t right to have things put away
1"1l1e1e moth and rust doth c01-
l.“ 1)t ! )7
She quoted this Bible authority with
5:; tisfaetion.
“And it would save me buying too,"
she added, hastily. “\ly old alpaca
isn’t very good. I’ve turned and
washed it till
and ’twould cost considerable to
buy a new one. And this dressall
right in the house and costing not thing.
I s’pose folks would think I was ter-
ribly extravagant but then, I don’t
cum. I guess if I give the money I’d
take for a new black dress and give
'it to the missionary society, and wear
the silk instead, nobody can find
fault; but then, I ain’t obliged to tell
‘em anyway. And it’s awful hand-
too.’
The golden—brown silk shimmered
and shone and reflected the rays of
'light.
“I shall look better than any one
“ As well as anv one. ” she corr.ected
" And I shan't tell any one that it's
an old silk made over. That ain't
necessary. You neednt tell all you
know, Aunt Jane used to say. and
I’m sure she was a very good we-
2 man.”
She smiled happily as she gave one
parting glance and turned away.
There was a perceptible stir when
Miss Hannah Davis, closely followed
by‘her sister—in-law, entered the par
sonage.
“Hannah Davis’s got a new dress,”
some one whispered loudly as she
passed thiough a little knot of we
men on the way to the bedroom to lay
aside hei wraps.
“And it’s :1 silk one, too.”
The eyes of the entire assembly
were on her as she emerged from the
little room and sank down into the
nearest empty chair without making
the usual round of handshaking.
“She feels stuck up," one woman
whispered to her neighbor “Well I
guess a silk dress don’ t make her any
b-ett"e1 11 the rest of us.’ The speaker
reared her head and spoke across the
intervening workers to Miss Hannah.
‘We 1v me just talking about a sub-
scription Miss Hannah” she said in
verv audible tones. “It’s for the Leav
itts You ’ ..now them. They ve had
awful luck lately, and ther'es a lot
due on the mortgage, and we thought
if we could just give them a little lift
it would be real Christian like.” ,
“I think ’twou-ld be real nice,” Miss
Hannah assented warmly. “I’ll be
glad to give something, though I can’t
give much, you know.”
She blushed as she spoke. All eyes
were on her in the most uncomforta-
ble way. ‘11.? by did they kind of
smile? ;
They must know she didn’t have
much money.
Could she. afford to give fifty cents.
she wondered.
“W'ell, how much will you give?”
The voice came with startling dis-
tinctness.
“Five dollars. say?” '
Miss Hannah started visibly. What
were they thinking of? Her hands fell
into her,lap. They touched the smooth
silk. It must he the dress.
“It's an old"—she started to say.
but the words died on her lips.
“IVhat did you say?” her tormentor
leaned forward.
The minister‘s wife was standing in
the door, smiling.
Miss Hannah shut her lips tight. .
“Yes, you can put me down for
she said. in a metallic voice.
A thrill seemed to pass through the
room. Then some newcomers entered,
and eager attention was turned to
them.
realize that you are
properly punished for your sinful
pride. Hannah Davis,” she said, as
she locked the door of her little room
that night and hastily took OK the
offending dress. .
“It was vanity all the time that
made you do it and you knew it, but
tried to salve your conscience with
saying it was ‘economy.’ ”
She spoke rapidly.
“If you was so terribly anxious
about being economical,” scernfully,
“I hope you
“why didn’t you make over that n1a-'
genta delainc?" A pause.
“And than you tried to hush your
conscience by saying you’d give the
money a new-dress would cost to the
missionary society.
“And now—now you’ve gone and
given $5 to that Woman for her sub!
scription, and you knew you couldn'.
bee is probably little more than a year ‘ aff01d it and it’s a sin to spend money
fiShe stared hard at the dress.
at most. Here is one reason for this you cant afford”
belief. She hatches among .the late
broods of summer, and soon after
leaves the nest, leading a vagaibond;
existence night and day, among the .
autumn flowers. The winter she passo'
es in an earth burrow dug by herself,""
and unaided establishes a colony in the'
spring. These combined periods of
fall and spring require the daily use
of hen.- frail wings in the field at least [
four month. Now, we know that the.
wings of the worker honey bee wear E
out in less than half that time; alsof
that the old queens who take to the
field after the nest breaks up in August , i
frequently have tattered twings and '
soon disappear. Nature does not sup- :
ply insects with new wing cells, as it ;
supplies birds with new wing feathers.
So the loss of the power of flight at '
this season of the year to the queen
bumble bee means the loss of life.—
Nicholas. __
“ 1nd then you was scared into it
because you was so proud, and pride
is another sin. You didn’ t want them
Lto think but what you could buy the
dress and give away money, too. That
makes three sins.”
Then she went to the. little daven-
port and wrote two notes.
Into one she slipped a five dollar bill
and directed it to the treasurer of the
missionary society, then she directed
the other to the minister’s wife and
went steadily across the room and
finned it on the handle.
“I shall send it over the first thing
in the mo-rning,”'she said.
A happier light crept into her eyes,
as she blew out the candle.
“I guess my conscience will rest 633°
ter now,” she anld.—'—Commercial Tri-
bone.
at that; '
dress-— -—a
it really ain’t decent.
LOVED BY THE GODS.
bo,at his head on the cushioned seat,
and a oiganette, just removed from. his
lips. between his finge1s. His eyes
rested with affectionate admiration
on the girl who finally opened her eyes
with a cry of wonder.
“You’re with me and I’m with you.
Isn’t that good enough?"
"No!” .- with a contradictory little
smile.
“Come here then, and tell me what
more you want.”
She pulled in the ears, smoothed the
and stepped over the low seat be-
beside him, putting the cushion be-
tween her -back and the hardedged
boaid-
“What more do you want, Ruby?”
he asked again, taking her arm and
laying it around his neck. She looked
into his face for a moment.
“Nothing in the w-o'rld, dear,”
half sobbed meeting his kiss.
“Are you so happy, lassie‘?”
“Oh! far too happy, Steve.’
The sWell from a distant steamer
reached them now in great green, oily
rollers lifting the boat with grave and
gentle dignity; then followed half a
dozen quick narrow waves, swinging
her jerkily from side to side. All was
still again. and Ruby shut her eyes.
“Sleepv?’ asked her lover.
“No; just glad, dear, ” So there was
silence awhile. “Tell me. something
S'tz' phen.” she said at last.
“I love you!"
“That’s nothing!” she retorted, with
a flicker of her closed lashes and a
stirring at thecorners of her month.
“It’s everything, darling,” he an-
swered. ‘
“Oh well. half of everything, then,”
she coureoted, sweetly. ..
I—Ie. bent over her. whispering un-
steadily. “Ruby, Ruby, sometimes it
all seems to be true. Do you think
God loves better than other people?"
“I don’t know about other people.
dear.” she said, “but we have got all
we want.”
“If I were to lose you, Ruby” he be-
gan pass-ioact .ly, but she laid her fing-
ers on his lips.
She
she
“you
do that! Oh. laddie. laddie.”
cried, giving way to her heart,
won’t ever lose me.”
Later. Stephen said, “You love me
best when you call me laddie.”
She smile-d and flushed. “I forgot."
she said: “it‘s one of mother's words."
“It’s a dear word, lassie. You must
not let it get lost when we’re living in
London town. I'll want to hear it
often.”
The afternoon waned. :but the warm
have increased. “‘The tide is flowing
now." remarked Stephen, looking at
his watch. “so we must be driftin';
comfortably into shore.”
“Very slowly. I’m afnaid,” said the
girl
“Are you in a hurry '2"
She shook her head contentedly.
“Stephen. will it always be like
this?"
“Always. my dear, my dear.".
A sudden sharp sound behind them
made Stephen leap up. “My God!” he
exclaimed, “the oars, Ruby.”
A large steam yacht, 'with her deli~
cate black lines and smart
funnel, was almost on them. Her
whistle screamed excitedly, and thosu
on board were shouting; then came the
sharp ring of the telegraph signalling
“full speed astern." But the small
boat was doomed. Even as the yacht
shifted her helm. Stephen tooktwu
rapid strokxs in the same direction.
“Don‘t hold me. nub), "’ he cried, “I’ll
SCH-'14 you.
But she clung round his neck.
“out lose me Steve?"
There was no tremendous crash. for
the. yacht had been going at half speed
on account of the haze, but she had
sufficient way on. despite her reversed
engines. to ups-ct the frail craft. At
the momen of collision Stephen caught
at a rope flung to him. but missed.
and, with‘liis s11'eetheart's arms about
112111.119. fell against the steamer‘s side
and into the sea
‘Stop the enginct't" yelled a man in
the lm'ws, prici 11 "1;: an awful lan—
ger. The captain had observed it. too.
for again the telegraph rang, and the
set-er." came to rest. But a girl who
looked. over the vacht's stern gave :1
pitiful crv. and slipped" to the deck in
.a d~ ad faint.
Almost immediately a boat. was in
the 11 ater and two of the crew, with
the owner. a. burly American million-
aire, sprang in and rowed astcrn.
They had not far to go. and the st-
lent people" on the yacht saw‘the‘ lov-
ers pulled on board. It was then that
the captain whispered to one of the
1en oi‘ the paitv: “Ask the ladies to
go below at once, sir.”
Very slowly the boat returned to the
yacht, and when it neared the sid0
the two sailors did not look up, and
the American .was bending down in
the stern.
“Y 011
Madame.
Polite. Old Gentleman —I perceive
111adam. that I need not inquii'e abe 111
your lieiiith.
Nice ‘0' 11 Lady ——'I‘hank 1'.ou sir 1 con
{es-1 that I feel ten years younger than
.1 am.
Polite Old Gentleman—Possibly. ma-
dam . but yim canot feel a. day younger
than you look.—-'l"ruth. _
Giles—l suopo eyou get paid for Wii
ring those magazine jokes?
Smiles~5ure You didnt. imagine l
'rrrnu them for too. did you?
Giles—011,110; any one could tell that
by reading. them. L—Chicago' Newt,
)
i
He was lounging in the stern of the
tween them. He made room for her‘
“You won’t: do that. Steve. you won’t
yellow '
sobbing like. a child—From
\
“Goodness! Where are 0 we.
Stephen?”-. " .
“Dunno, dear,” was' the lazy re-i
spouse. '
“B1111: we're out of sight”—a little‘
doubtfully.
Are Viild Cherry Leaves Poisonous?
It is believed in many ”neighbor
hoods that live stock, particularly cat
tle, are occasionally poisoned by eat-
ing leaves of wild cherry trees or
shrubs. In woods and pastures these
cherry- trees are sometimes cut 011',
. then from the stumps grow,innumer-
sleeves of- her white blouse, and rose ,
fattest
.Jolc sprouts.
in these localities eat the leaves» with
what is thought to be fatal results.
To obtain some definite knowledge
along this line the New Hampshire ex-
periment station has conducted some
tests. The wild black cherry, choke
cherry, wild red cherry, the wild yel-
low or “horse” plum and .the dwari
cherry‘ were used. Investigations
showed that the leaves of the last two
varieties were perfectly harmless. The
test then proceeded with the three first
named. Of these three it was found
that the leaves of the wild black
cherry are the most poisonous,
though all are dangerous.
There is a popular opinion that the
. cherry leaves are poisonous only when
out raid later eaten in a wilted condi-
tion. Some hold that cattle may safe-
ly nibble at them when growing with-
out danger. They are also considered
quite harmless when dried. The in-
vestigation proved, however, that both
the wilted and fresh leaves are poison-
ous while the dried are always to be
regarded with suSpicion. Vigorous
young leaves from fresh shoots are
most liable to be eaten by cattle and
are far more poisonous than the leaves
from the mature tree or the stunted
shrub. Leaves wilted in bright sun-
light to about 70, per cent. of the origi-
nal weight or until they-begin to ap-
pear slightly limp yield the greatest
tumult of prussic acid, the poisonous
element.
Antlpathy of Trees.
A corréspondent’ to The Country
Gentleman says: “Some years since
I learned a fact from experience
which I presume is well known to ex-
perienced horticulturists, but may be
of value to some one just commencing.
Some trees have an antipathy for
others of a different family. I planted
an orchard of peach trees. In the field
was a butternut tree eight to ten
inches in diameter with spreading top.
It was a good season and all the trees
lived and made a good start, but the.
second year fifteen to eighteen of the
trees around the butternut died, and
others farther away were less thrifty
than the average of the eichard. Theic
was also a hickory nut tree left stand-
ing in the field, about twice as large
as the butternut and the trees around
it did not sufier, but were almost as
thrifty as in other parts of the orchard.
Both trees were then removed and the
space around where the butternut
stood filled in with new peach trees,
butzthey never grew or producer] as
well as the others. I was told that
the leaves of the butternut killed the.
peach trees. Others thought the roots
caused t11e_damage. At any rate, af-
ter my experience, I should advise
those setting peach trees not-to plant
them in the vicinity of butternut
trees, for there is certainly no con-
geniality between them.”
Care in Selecting Seed.
The selection of seed is the mostlim-
portant matter connected with the
growing of a crop, for the reason that
from each seed comes all the ad-
vantages or imperfections of a crop.
so far as its general characteristics are
concerned. It isclaimed that every
fully developed plant presents at least
one ear, grain or seed superior in pro-
ductive power to any of the others of
that plant, and every plant contains
at least one seed that upon trial will
prove more productive than any other
of the lot from that plant. In cereals
the best grain is found on the best car
01' head, and the sdperior vigor of that
grain is transmitted in different de-
grees to its progeny. By repeated care-
ful selections the superiority is ac-
cumulated and the improvement goes
on until in a few years a. fixed type
is the result. 111 Selecting seeds for
experiment there should be an abun-
dant supply of plant food provided in
order to permit of the fullest develop-
ment from each seed, and to secure
not only prolificaey but hardc'ess and
quality. .
Smaller Hogs More Profitable.
The 'day'has been, says a contributor
to The New England Farmer, when
the large fat hog brought the highest
price, and it was our pride to have'thc
and largest in .the- whole
country, for the- lard hog was the.
money hog. from the fact that the lard
hog brought a good price, and the 1101.:
that made the most lard was the most
profitable to the farmer. But whoa
lard depreciated in value, and the lip—y
petite’of the people demanded leaner
meat, then the price of very large fat
hogs went down, and the small ho:
is the one that'packers want and that
brings the best price. 'How long. this
may continue time only will tell, but
we farmers must endeavor to raise!
what will bring ts the most money.
and the bogs that will weigh from 17-3
to 225 pounds is about the weight that
shippers want, and it costs less per
pound to get them to that size; hence
the necessity of selling at the proper
time in order t’.) get the most money
at the least expense. ' ‘
“0, Arthur door, if you only k"ew
how happy '1 11111 with you.”
“Yes. yes: I only wish I had madl-
as good a match as you!"--—Eliegeailu-
‘it'ilaitt'i‘.
Cattle being pastured ‘
T
and troublesome
r11: .1. a. WILLIAM. co.. '
cusvonnuuvmoun. ‘ ‘ .
Inn. at I‘lulll‘ n-m Moi-cg luv. ,
AKE YOUR CHOICE.
A spoonful of
Washing POWclcr
in a pail of water and clean house
with scarcely a bit of trouble, or 1'
do without ivorin‘e” and rub and scrub till your back
aches. One is Cheap and easy...the other dear
8'
Every package of lvorine"
has a cake' of pure white
Glycerine Soap in it.
THE ORIGIN OF ICE CREAM.
Made Its Appearance Near the Close of the
Last Century.
The New York Post Boy of J one 8.
1786. makes . this annomicement:
{Ladies and gentlemen may be sup-
plied 11'itLh ice cream every day at the.
City tavern by their humble servant.
Joseph Cowe.” At a ball given by
Mrs. Johnson in New York, on Dec. 12,
1789, there were “served pyramids of
red and white ice cream, with punch
and liquors, rose cinnamon and par-
fait amour!“ Ice cream was first i11-
troduced at the national capitol by
Mrs. Alexander Hamilton. who had
had it in her home in New York. She
used to tell witih amusement of tin)
delight with which President Jackson
first tasted it. and how he promptly
decided to have ices at the executive
mansion. Accordingly guests at the
next reception Were treated to the
frozen mystery, and afforded con-
siderable fun to the initiated by the
reluctance With which they tasted it
Those from the rural districts espec-
ially first eyed it suspiciously, then
melt-ed each spoonful with breath be-
fore consuming it. ‘Their distrust was
soon removed, however, and plates
were empt’ed with great rapidity.
The man who made the cream was.
.oddly enough a negro by the name of
Jackson, who in the early pant of the
present century kept a small confec
tionary store in Washington.
custards. which were cooled after be
ing made by setting them on a wk
of ice. were very fashionable, and
Jackson, at Mrs. Hamilton’s sugges-
tion. froze them by placing the in-
gredients in a tin bucket and com-
pletely covering it with ice. Each
bucket container a quart. and was
sold for $1. It immediately became
popular. and the inventor soon en—
larged his store, and when ,he died
left a considerable fortune—Harper's
Bazar.
....._w» -.——-v.~
An 01".} Time Wrinkle Recipe.
- Any women who have read the View
of Wakefield would give much to know.
just what herbs and simples were use-5
in xtl1e"face .wash that Mrs. Primrose
and her bonny daughters were at such
pains to make over the fire. Both
flames and demoiselles of those times
were famous for their fine complex
ions, and it is well worth while making
a study of their means to this do
sira-ble end. Here is 'a recipe straight
from old England that sounds as if it
might be a compound like the fambue
“Primrose Wash. ” It; is far moredeli
cate than cold cream, cocoa butter 01
any of the emollients now so much in
vogue, and when used over night al‘.
traces of it should disappear before
morning.
To make, put a cup of good'cream it
a small saucepan over the fire and 5th
until it boils; allow to cool and re
heat. Do this three times. While hot
stir in the juice of two lemons and
two tablespoo-nsful of cucumber juice.
This may easily be pressed from this.
vegetable by cutting in bits :the size
of half a lemon and pressing in the
squeezer in the same way as lemons
Stir in, also, two tablespofmsful of gly
cerine and one of honey, (The formei
may be omitted if it does not agree
with the skin.) At the last add a few
drops of any nice scent. The saucepan
should be kept in hot water until the
ingredients are well mixed, then re
moved and the cements stirred every
few minutes until perfectly cold. It
is now ready to be packed in small
pots (like those that come with extract
or beef). and covered with paper dip-
ped in the white of an egg, to becomt
air-tight. The face should be washed
with good soap and hot water, shading
off to cold, over night, and this oint-
ment c'a1efully massaged into the skin
When glycerineisbmitted use swee'
oil instead. . . .
$86K HEAIAGHE
Positively cured by these
Little Pills. .
They also relieve Distress from Dyspepsia,
Indigestion and T00 Hearty Eating. A per-
fect remedy in Dizziness, Nausea, Drowsi-
ness, Bad Taste in the Mouth, Coated Tongue
i
1
i
i
. Small Pill.
Pahi' 1n the Side, TlePID LIVER. T hey
Regulate t or: Bowcls. Purely Vegetable.
Sm‘all Dose.
Small Price.
——A
P. w. BATES".
42 WATER “STREET,
You can find as fine an assortment of
1111111111181 Uflfllfllfll‘l’Wfll‘l
As can be found in anv Yard in the
State. Look it over and get.
‘ prices before going elsewhere
- o.
Gil
A'I'
E. ' Wilson,
_.I_
Colt ,
Real Estate and Invest-
. ment Agent, ‘. .'
Room 3 GAZETTE BUILDlNG.
NORWALK, , - - - CONN
MONEY 'ro LOAN ‘
W. FEBNALD,
Practical
Bookbinder
Books Called For and '
Delivered.
Postal Orders Promp‘tly
Attended to.
32 FRANKLIN STREET,
SOUTH ~NORWALK.
Orders for Bookbinding can no 19
at. the GAZETTE OFFICE.
111111.11 Boa ICE
1111.1ch rum]
Stores and families supplied. Lowe
rates.
ELLS a. (30., I I North Ave.
Norwalk.
1.
' EWYORK,NEW HAVE 111 i
RAILROAD. N HABTFOI D
—an Your DIVISION .
DECEMBER 4, 1898.
Trains leave South'Norwalk as follows.
FOR NEW YORK— Accommodation
brainsat9.36, 11:40a. m., 1.11, 3.04, 4.07,
5. 33, 6. 41, 8. 11,10. 20p. 111. Express trains
at. 4.55, 5.45, 6.15, (local). 6. 55, (local);
7.13, (local), 7.54, (local), 8.16, 9.03(l l)
9. 58, 10. 35, 11. 35, (local) 3. m. 00%?
2.25, 5.10 5.55, 7.55 p. m. For Washing
ton via. Harlem River 12. 53 a. m. (daily)
SUNDAYS—Accommodation 9.05 11. 1'11.
5.35, (local), 7. 20, (local)10. 10p. m. Er
press 4.55, 5. 45 a. m.
FOR NEW HAVEN AND THE EAST—
-Accommoda.tion trains at 6. 28, '7. 42,
8. 46 and 11. 428.. m., 1.12, 2.42, (ton’t)
4.18, 5.27, 6.27, 7. 28 (to B’p t), .1
and 11.15 p. m. Express trains at 1.11
L29 9. 11, 10. 05, 11. 08 a. m., 12.02, 3.05
5.04 (Naugatuck Express) 7.05, 9:05
p.111
SUNDAYS—Accommodation 7. 42, 9.12
$.23»!!! and7. 15p. m. Express J 11 and
C. T. HEMPSTEAD. Gen. Pass. Agent.
News and Opinions
1...;
National Importanced
The SUIN
ALONE
' CONTAINS BOTH.
LDaily, by mail... . ..-.;~ . (.66 a year
Daily and Sunday, by mail. . .$8 a year
The Sunday SUN
13 the greatest. Sunday NewSpaper in
the world. ' I
Price 5c :1 copy. 81, mail $2 a year
_ i
11- + 1111111111:
. ‘45-“:
Address THE SUN, New vars]
Norwalk Chronicler