VOL. XIV.

OCEAN CITY, N. J., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 1894.

NO. 25.

Ocean City Sentinel.

PUBLISHED WEEKLY AT OCEAN CITY, N. J., BY R. C. ROBINSON, Editor and Proprietor. $1.00 per year, strictly in advance. $1.50 at end of year.

Restaurants. MARSHALL'S DINING ROOMS FOR LADIES AND GENTS,

No. 1321 Market Street, Three Doors East of City Hall,

PHILADELPHIA.

STRICTLY TEMPERANCE. MEALS TO ORDER FROM 6 A. M. TO 8 P. M. Good Roast Dinners, with three Vegetables, for 25 cents. Turkey or Chicken

Dinners, 35 cents.

Ladies' Room upstairs with home-

like comforts.

PURE SPRING WATER. OPEN ALL NIGHT.

BAKERY, 601 South Twenty-second Street. Ice Cream, Ices, Frozen Fruits and Jellies. Weddings and Evening Entertainments a Specialty. Everything to furnish the table and set free of charge. NOTHING SOLD OR DELIVERED ON SUNDAY.

H. M. Sciple. J. M. Gillespie. H. P. Sayford. H. M. SCIPLE & CO., DEALERS IN Boilers and Engines, Every Size for Every Duty, DUPLEX STEAM PUMPS, Third and Arch Sts., PHILADELPHIA, PA. WALLACE S. RISLEY, REAL ESTATE AND INSURANCE AGENT, 413 MARKET ST., CAMDEN. Properties for sale and to rent. Money to loan on Mortgage. PETER MURDOCH, DEALER IN COAL and WOOD, Ocean City, N. J. Orders left at 806 Asbury avenue will receive prompt attention. D. S. SAMPSON, DEALER IN Stoves, Heaters, Ranges, PUMPS, SINKS, &C., Cor. Fourth Street and West Avenue, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Tin roofer and sheet-iron worker. All kinds of Stove Casting furnished at short notice. Gasoline Stoves a specialty. All work guaranteed as represented.

D. GALLAGHER, DEALER IN FINE FURNITURE, 43 So. Second St., PHILADELPHIA, PA. L. S. SMITH, CONTRACTOR IN Grading, Graveling and Curbing. PAINTING BY CONTRACT OR DAY. Eighth St. & Asbury Ave., OCEAN CITY, N. J.

Bakers, Grocers, Etc.

JACOB SCHUFF, (Successor to A. E. Mahan,) THE PIONEER BAKERY, No. 706 Asbury Avenue, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Fresh Bread, Pies and Cakes daily. Wedding Cakes a specialty. Orders delivered free of charge. Nothing delivered on Sunday.

McCLURE, HERITAGE & CO., Successors to Finnerty, McClure & Co., DRUGGISTS AND CHEMISTS, 112 Market Street, Philadelphia. Dealers in Pure Drugs, Chemicals, Patent Medicines, Paints, Oils, etc.

Physicians, Druggists, Etc. DR. J. S. WAGGONER, RESIDENT Physician and Druggist, NO. 731 ASBURY AVENUE, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Pure Drugs, Fine Stationery, Confectionery, Etc., constantly on hand. DR. WALTER L. YERKES, DENTIST, Tuckahoe, N. J. Will be in Ocean City at 806 Asbury avenue every Tuesday. DR. E. C. WESTON, DENTIST, 7th St., east of Asbury Ave., OCEAN CITY, N. J. Saturday to Monday night until Oct. 1st, and August 4th to 20th. GAS ADMINISTERED.

DR. CHAS. E. EDWARDS, DENTIST, Room 12, Haseltine Building, Take Elevator. 1416 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, Pa.

Attorneys-at-Law.

MORGAN HAND, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW Solicitor, Master and Examiner in Chancery Supreme Court Commissioner, Notary Public, CAPE MAY C. H., N. J., (Opposite Public Buildings.)

LAW OFFICES SCHUYLER C. WOODRULL, 310 Market St., Camden, N. J. Solicitor in Ocean City. Y. CORSON, DEALER IN FLOUR AND FEED, No. 721 Asbury Avenue, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Contractors and Builders. S. B. SAMPSON, Contractor and Builder, No. 305 Fourth St., Ocean City, N. J. Jobbing promptly attended to. Plans, specifications and working drawings furnished. JOSEPH F. HAND, ARCHITECT, CONTRACTOR AND BUILDER, Ocean City, N. J. Plans, Specifications and Working Drawings furnished. Estimates given on Application. Satisfaction guaranteed. Nicholas Corson, CARPENTER AND BUILDER, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Estimates given. Plans and Specifications furnished. Buildings put up by contract or day.

G. P. MOORE, ARCHITECT, BUILDER AND PRACTICAL SLATER, Ocean City, N. J. Best Roofing Slate constantly on hand. Samuel Schurch, PRACTICAL BUILDER, MAY BE FOUND AT Bellevue Cafe, On beach bet. Seventh and Eighth Sts. GEO. A. BOURGEOIS & SON, Carpenters and Builders, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Estimates given. Buildings erected by contract or day.

Plumbers, Steam Fitters, Etc.

J. T. BRYAN, Practical Plumber and Gas Fitter No. 1007 Ridge Ave., Philadelphia. Circulating Boilers, Sinks, Bath Tubs, Water Closets, Lead and Iron Pipes, Pumps, Etc., furnished at short notice. Country or City Residences fitted up in the best manner. Sanitary Plumbing and drainage a specialty. Orders by mail promptly attended to. Plasterers and Brick-Layers. W. STONEHILL. G. O. ADAMS. STONEHILL & ADAMS, Plastering, Range Setting, Brick Laying, &c. All work in mason line promptly attended to. OCEAN CITY, N. J.

ROBERT FISHER, REAL ESTATE AND Insurance Broker, CONVEYANCER, COMMISSIONER OF DEEDS, AND NOTARY PUBLIC. Agent for the Aetna Life Insurance Company, of Hartford, Connecticut, and some of the oldest and best Fire Insurance Companies of America.

What's the matter with Ocean City? She's booming, that's all. New water supply sys-

tem; new electric street railroad; electric lights; new hotels; new cottages; new tenants and new guests; every-

thing is on the jump, and Fisher is rushing the business. Call and see him, and put your money in Ocean City before things get up to the top notch.

Fisher is one of the few pioneers of Ocean City and among its first Real Estate purchasers and Cottagers, intimately associated with all its history and identified with every step of its progress and the operation of its Real Estate, has extraordinary opportunities for the transaction of all kinds of Real Estate and Insurance business.

FOR RENT--Having very extensive and influential connections, he has superior advantages in bringing those who have properties to rent and those who require them together, and at present has some of the finest cottages and other houses on his books at liberal prices. FOR SALE--Long experience and personal dealing in Real Estate has made him expert in values of both improved and unimproved property. Occasionally even in such a prosperous town as ours some one wants to change or get out. Then we help them by helping some one else to a bargain. From Ocean front to Bay, and all between, you can be suited with fine corners or central building lots. A few cottages, new and well built, now offered at cost. Write for information of the Lot Club. Headquarters for every househunter and investor, Fisher's Real Estate Office, the most prominent corner in Ocean City. Insurances placed on most advantageous terms in best companies. For any information on any subject connected with any business enterprise write freely to

Robert Fisher, Ocean City, N. J.

The Syringe and the Pipe. From a western point of view there is one great drawback to opium--it takes too much time. Western hurry seems, however, to be gradually permeating even the vices of the east, and now the morphine syringe rivals the opi-

um pipe, if we may believe a report which reaches us from Hong Kong. The practice has been known for some time in Shanghai, and some six months ago it was brought to Hong Kong, where there are now some 20 houses in which a regular trade in it is openly carried on. Each house has on an average 50 clients, who call in the morning and the evening and take their doze.

An injection is much cheaper than a smoke, and primarily, no doubt, that is the reason of its rapid popularity. Curi-

ously enough, the pretense is that it is used as a cure for the vice of opium smoking, to which, however, it would seem to have about the same relation as a whisky bar has to a beer saloon. The immediate happiness of an injection, which can be had without the loss of time, the pub-

lic exposure or the loathsome associations of the opium den, is a far more dangerous temptation than the more slowly acting and more expensive pipe. Truly in this matter John Chinaman is jumping out of the frying pan into the fire.

Troubles That Never Came. Some one has said, "I have been surrounded by troubles all my life long, but there is a curious thing about them --nine tenths of them never happened," quotes Mrs. Van Koort Schuyler in an earnest plea to women on "Living Be-

yond Their Strength" in The Ladies' Home Journal.

I once heard of a lady who wrote down in order the particular fears and anxieties which were harassing her, in-

closed the paper and sealed it, hoping by this kind of mechanical contrivance to be enabled in some sort to dismiss the subject from her mind. The paper was put away and forgotten. Several months later it came to light, when she

found that not one of the fears therein set down had been realized, and the difficulties had all been smoothed away before she came to the time for their solution.

The Cheese Mite.

It appears that the cheese mite undergoes a metamorphosis, passing through a "hypopna" stage. The mite, originally soft and easily killed by heat or ex-

posure, in this stage suddenly becomes hard and able to endure great changes, and also to live a long time without food. It is also then provided with spe-

cial adherent organs, so that attached to insects it can be widely distributed, though exposed to the most adverse circumstances.--Scientific Journal.

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It is agreeable. There is no nauseous taste, nor aftertaste, nor sickening smell.

We give below a few of the great number of testimonials which we are constantly receiving from those who have tried it, published with the express permission in writing of the patients.

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My friends and physicians thought I would not recover. To-day I am entirely cured of dyspepsia, can enjoy articles of food I that I never dared use before in all my life. For the past year I have been up and going in ease and health, with sufficient vigor to take some part in domestic work of the most laborious nature. As my strength continues to improve, since leaving off Oxygen, I feel that I can conscientiously recommend the treatment, not only to cure (provided the doctors' directions are observed), but to be lasting in its beneficial effects. "MISS JAMIE MAGRUDER, "Oak Hill, Florida."

"The Oxygen Treatment you sent me for C. O. Harris, a year ago, one of my missionaries from West Africa, whose life was in jeopardy on account of lung trouble and a severe cough, he now testifies has greatly benefited him. He has entirely recovered his health, married a wife, returned to his work in Africa, and taken his wife with him. Bishop WILLIAM TAYLOR, 150 Fifth Avenue, New York, N. Y.

"Compound Oxygen..Its Mode of Action and Results" is the title of a book of 200 pages published by Drs. Starkey & Palen, which gives to all inquirers full information as to this remarkable curative agent, and a record of surprising cures in a wide range of cases--many of them after being abandoned to die by other physicians. Will be mailed free to any address on application.

Drs. STARKEY & PALEN, 1529 Arch St., Philadelphia, Pa. 120 Sutter St., San Francisco, Cal. Please mention this paper.

A SIMPLE REMEDY.

If you'd be happy all the day, Never have wrinkles, never grow gray, Feel like your work was nothing but play, Be sure that comfort had come to stay, Just let the women have their way, Just let the women have their say.--Detroit Free Press.

CATCHING A TARTAR.

A sunny morning in June. The platform crowded--cheap trippers for Southsea, heavy swells and swelles for the links at Hayling islands with bags of golf sticks. The yachting man, strongly

in evidence, sunburnt and puffing a cig-

arette vigorously. If he is a new hand--a Dickey Sam--he wears a cloth beaked cap with the club burgee, a well

cut coat of serge or pilot cloth bristling with bronze buttons, loose flannel continuations and white shoes. No man was ever so much a seadog as the yachting tyro looks.

The older sailing men, those to the manner born--"swagger squadron men," who can fly the white ensign, are dressed in long, lean, frock coats, loose trousers turned up, pointed boots, immaculate collars and glossy hats--the aim of the man who has lived is to look as much like a stockbroker as possible.

Of course, down at the Castle or on Ryde pier they will blossom into a seasonable crop of buttons and burgees and display remarkable activity in dodging that tyrant of the deep--the sailing master--if the water looks a bit choppy.

Two people attracted a lot of attention by their palpable efforts at concealment. He, although the day was so hot, was enveloped in a long cloak, with a collar reaching past his ears, and his cotton white hair and mustache showed up occasionally in strong contrast to the deep brown of his face as he turned to watch the porters attacking a huge mound of his belongings.

Each box and bag was blazoned with an imperial coronet over a monogram, and then told one another guardedly and

under promises of profound secrecy "that was Prince Paul Domtoff, the

owner of the new 100 rater now lying

off Southampton."

She, the lady, was tall and gracefully girllike. A neat, natty blue serge Redfern frock; a sunburnt straw hat, with a dark blue ribbon; tiny tanned boots; a white shirt, with a turndown collar, and flowing tie completed her costume, saving a thick gossamer veil that completely hid her face, and but for the whiteness and purity of her neck it would have seemed she suffered from some facial disfigurement. It was evidently a desire not to be recognized that led to the adoption of the yashmak. She was evidently expecting or avoiding some friends. Her head moved with a birdlike quickness as she scanned each new arrival on the platform, and her slender hand, white and jewelless, twitched nervously round the handle of the morocco monogrammed case she carried. Catching her eye from a distance, he walked toward her with the easy, firm self assurance that women like. She saw he was coming to her and wait-

ed calmly--perhaps she breathed more quickly.

He raised his soft hat, and with a courtly bow said in perfect English, with the mere scent of an accent: "Pardon me, you are distressed. Have you missed your maid? Can I be of any serv-

ice to you?"

Now his hat was off he appeared a prematurely white haired man of 45 or 50, with a firm face and voice--a man evidently used to command. "Thank you very much," came in a soft sibilant voice from beneath the thick gossamer. "I have not only lost my maid, but my portmanteau. I am afraid it is under that pile of luggage, and"--with a little shrug--"I am afraid that pile of luggage is yours." "That is mine, madame. I will get your bag at once. May I ask where you are going? To Southampton, and it is of the highest importance you should not miss this train? Pardon, do not trouble. I will see that all is arranged." A few words to the guard, a rapid passage of backsheesh, and the missing bag with a dainty monogram and small crest was placed carefully on the rack of the first class carriage by which the veiled lady was standing. With the coolness that seemed part of his nature, the Russian indicated to a porter a small hamper and had it placed in the same compartment. There must have been some collusion and a lavish tip, for though the train was crowded, the guard, after the imperceptible manner of his kind, kept that carriage empty until the train started, and they found themselves alone, securely locked in. A sudden start ran through her slender frame. She paused and asked quickly, "Do you know when the next train leaves Waterloo for Southampton?" He was desolated. Of course she missed her maid, but he was afraid not

for some hours.

"Madame is glad? Madame is afraid of being followed?" "Yes, madame is glad. She does not wish to be taken back and forced into a hateful marriage," blushing prettily. The old, old story--stern father, elderly lover, titled, rich, but horrid. No mother, no sister, no brother. She was flying from bondage to her aunt, Lady Azuregore, in Guernsey. Yes, she was Lady Constance Azuregore. Had he really met her at the Duchess of Arlington's dance? She thought she knew his face. That was why she trusted him so implicitly on the platform, of course. But if she was veiled, why was he so shrouded in a big cloak? "Come, now," anxiously, "a lady? An elopement?"

No, no, and again no! Nothing so joyous. He was the Prince Paul Demtoff and had fallen between two stools--had incurred the enmity of the imperial court through coquetting with the nihilists. That meant the Alexiefsky Ravelin or the fortress of Peter and Paul in St. Petersburg, and, on the other hand, finding the "party of progress" going too far, he was threatened with death for deserting the red flag. "You must pardon me, prince, but we seem in trouble together," and she laughed merrily. "Do you know I half thought you were a detective?" By this time he had returned to his hamper and produced deftly a table

cloth, plates, knives, forks and serviettes, a small bottle of Chateau Mouton Rothschild and a dainty cold chicken.

Their mutual confessions had lessened embarrassment, and the lady, after making a little moue, said that she was so hungry and so glad to eat, etc. They chatted and laughed as the train sped through the beautiful country, and by the time Southampton was thought of she had smoked half a mild cigarette and he had kissed her hand. She readjusted her veil, and he assumed his big cloak with a sigh as the whistle of the train signaled the station. "The Guernsey boat does not leave till midnight. What are you going to do? Where will you put up?" "I don't know. I will never be taken back alive. And you, you are hunted. What will you do?"

"Go on board my yacht.t She is lying off here, and the gig waits for this train at the landing steps. I must hail them, as none of them know me. My agent has engaged an entirely new crew, skip-

per included, all English. I want no nihilists on board." And he looked moodily out of the window.

She made a sudden movement, as if about to speak, but drew back. Again she leaned forward, and the repetition roused him from his thoughts. He looked up and saw her eyes glistening even through the thick veil. She was crying!

"What is the matter? You are frightened. Can I help you?" "I hardly dare ask you. You may think badly of me, but I will not be forced into this detestable marriage. Can you--may I"--He divined her thoughts. "Stay on board my yacht and board the boat at midnight? Yes, your ladyship, yes--in all honor, yes." And he held out both

his hands, and with a sob almost hysterical she placed her tiny gloves in them as the train stopped.

They left the station by a side door unnoticed, and walking down the broad graveled road with the soft sward and the old, time cannon passed the crumbling walls and found the boat manned by six bronzed typical yachtsmen, the skipper, a fine looking old man, sitting motionless in the stern sheets holding the yoke lines.

"Do you know a respectable woman who can look after this lady until the mail boat starts?" asked the prince as

he handed her carefully on board and passed her portmanteau. She carried the morocco case herself.

"Well, surr, I've took the libbaty of invitin my old woman on board today. She's been a stewardess, surr." "Capital, captain. Now, lads, give way!"

The boat soon shot alongside a beautiful schooner yacht. The crew manned the gangway as the prince and Lady Constance came on board, and a mother-

ly, sunburned woman courtesied her through an exquisitely furnished saloon cabin into a bijou boudoir with a lace curtained bunk and a host of feminine fripperies.

"I may sail tonight. Is all ready? Right. take the boat and go ashore, bring off my luggage and anything we may want from the ship's stores. And, Johnson, keep the men afloat, but you just find out if there is any hue and cry about a lady eloping."

Captain Johnson, an old merchant captain, slowly winked and looked very

knowing. "H'm!" he said to himself. "I half s'spected as much. That's the sort of owner I likes to sail with. Lots o' yellow boys kickin about this voyage, I lay."

In about an hour he returned, and doffing his peaked cap said mysterious-

ly, "I spoke to my cousin, the pleeceman, an he says there's a lot o' cockney detectives down a-watchin the station an the Guernsey packet for some young 'ooman."

Her ladyship had washed all travel stains away and changed her frock. She looked like a fresh rosebud, but her face

grew deathly pale, her eyelids dilated, and the nerve lines deepened into marks of agony when he told her the captain's story. He thought she was going to faint and made as though to catch her. With a supreme effort she regained her self possession and said in a hoarse whisper:

"Oh, save me! Take me to Guernsey in your yacht, or I will jump overboard!"

He turned on his heel without replying and went up the companionway on deck. "Johnson, your wife doesn't mind a trip to sea?" "Lor bless yer royal 'ighness, she's dying for a sniff of the ocean!"

"Get under weigh at once."

"Aye, aye, sir! All hands on deck! Tumble up, my hearties!" Her face flushed deeply when she heard the clank of the chain pump and the flapping of the foresail, and she thanked him with both hands and a sweet smile. Under a good southwesterly breeze the yacht spun along merrily, throwing the foam in long, beautiful, featherlike curves from her clipper stern. The lady stood leaning dreamily against the side ropes, and the prince, an experienced sailor evidently, took the tiller and threaded the way carefully through the crowd of craft. For a time neither spoke; then, abruptly giving the management to the appreciatively critical skipper, he beckoned her into the cabin. "I will land you at Guernsey tomorrow morning," he said, "but I have been deceiving you. I am not Prince Paul Demtoff. I am his valet. I have robbed him of 1,000,000 rubles and am now going to the Argentine in his yacht," and he stood up rigidly and faced her. She smiled and said calmly: "Very good! Take me with you. I am not Lady Constance Azuregore. I am her maid, but I've got her jewel case."--Million.

The Dog's Name Was Teck.

The Prince of Wales is very fond of the theater and is a great admirer of the genius of Miss Genevieve Ward. He once called upon the famous actress in the greenroom of the Prince of Wales' theater. His royal highness was accompanied by the Duke of Edinburgh, Prince Teck and a Russian nobleman. While they were conversing Miss Ward, hearing the jingle of the bells worn by a tiny pet dog who followed her everywhere, and fearing she might stray off, called out: "Come here, Teck!" The gentlemen started, and Miss Ward hastily apologized, recollecting the name of one of her distinguished visitors. "My little dog's name is Teck--short for Thecla, a German character in one of my plays." They all laughed heartily, and in came the little fellow with the princely name and straightaway rushed at the Duke of Edinburgh.

"She will bite me," exclaimed the duke.

"Basket, Teck!" cried Miss Ward reprovingly, and the little creature, with prompt obedience, ran out of her room and curled herself up in the basket. As her visitors were descending the stairs Miss Ward heard them laughing heartily, and she plainly distinguished the voice of the Prince of Wales as he slapped his cousin on the shoulder and said merrily, "Basket, Teck!"--London Tit-Bits.

The Explosion Never Came.

Two young fellows had stacks of fun on Nicollet avenue among the Fourth of July crowds last year and scared some of the folks nearly out of their wits without the least danger to any one. They had constructed what resembled an immense cannon firecracker, but with not a pinch of powder about it, except as to fuse. Of fuses they had plenty, and they dexterously inserted them as they meandered along the street, supplying a new one as fast as one burned out. They operated the practical joke by one of them carrying the dangerous looking cracker under his arm and the other pretending to fire it unknown to him. When the wag slipped up and applied his punk from behind and then dodged away, those who saw it held their breath at the expected explosion, which did not, however, take place although few suspected the real reason why. Up and down the avenue those funmakers went, and many were the ears that were stopped during their fun and many the eyes turned away from the expected explosion.--Minneapolis Tribune.

Some Queer Shaped Comets. The astronomers and observers in general have noted and recorded many oddities among the various comets or "hairy stars" that have made their appearance in the heavens. That of the year 1102, known as "Metia's comet," was in the form of a plow, but without anything resembling handles. The crook near the "moldboard" finally elongated until the celestial wanderer stretched out in a V shape until it looked like a flock of fiery geese. Josephus says that the comet of the year 70 A. D. was in the shape of a sword, and that it "hung over the city (of Jerusalem) a whole year." The comet of 1221 looked like the flukes of an immense whale, the resemblance being so strong that it went into the histories of several widely separated countries as the "whale comet." Donati's comet, when first seen on June 2, 1858, was in the shape of a tadpole. On Oct. 3 it was sword shaped, and six days later was the counterpart of a wing of a gigantic bird.--St. Louis Republic.

Six O'clock Blasts.

Suburbans living to the northward of New York have the hour of 6 announed to them on every working day in a novel and somewhat startling fashion. This is nothing less than a series of terrific detonations, some near, some far, that roll back and forth between the Hudson

and the sound. They are the dynamite explosions that accompany the blasting operations where the appearance of new streets and new foundations proclaims the steady progress northward of the urban area. The workmen time their last blasts, in order that they may be set off just as the day's work is done.--New York Sun.

The cuckoo never makes a nest, but lays a solitary egg in the nest of some other bird.