VOL. XV.

OCEAN CITY, N. J., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 1895. NO. 23.

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.

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 up-stairs 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.

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. JONATHAN HAND, JR., Attorney-at-Law, SOLICITOR AND MASTER IN CHANCERY, Notary Public, CAPE MAY COURT HOUSE, N. J. Office opposite Public Buildings. Will be in Ocean City every Wednesday at office on Eighth street near station.

HARRY S. DOUGLASS, Counsellor-at-Law, CAPE MAY COURT HOUSE, N. J.

EUGENE C. COLE, Attorney-at-Law,

MASTER IN CHANCERY, NOTARY PUBLIC, SEAVILLE, CAPE MAY CO., N. J. Will be in Ocean City on Friday of each week at the Mayor's office.

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.

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. J. E. PRYOR, PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON,

Ocean City, N. J. Special attention given to diseases of the Nose and Throat, and of Children.

T. C. HUTCHINSON, M. D. Homeopathist. Tenth St. and Asbury Ave., OCEAN CITY, N. J. Resident Physician. Late of Phila. DR. WALTER L. YERKES, DENTIST, Tuckahoe, N. J. Will be in Ocean City at 656 Asbury avenue every Tuesday.

C. E. EDWARDS. J. C. CURRY. DRS. EDWARDS & CURRY, DENTISTS, Room 12, Haseltine Building, Take Elevator. 1416 Chestnut St., Philadelphia, Pa.

THE BALLAD OF A BOTANIST. Near the quiet little village of a trim New England town Lie the peaceful, pleasant acres of a farm of fair renown. Where the fond pursuit of botany Doth banish all monotony And tan the faded cheek a ruddy brown. Here Euphorbia cyparissia* waves a welcome unto all, Ampelopsis quinquefolia spreads its mantle o'er the wall, While from salix babylonica And Cydonia japonica With cheerful chirp the wrens and robins call. Leonurus and Linaria lead our steps along the lane Where Lilium and Trillium and Uvularia reign, And Asclepias Cornuti-- Good for greens if not for beauty-- Like Urtica, though, its touch entaileth pain. Chrysanthemum Leucanthemum the grassy fields adorn, The fragrance of Trifolium on every breeze is borne; And the tall Verbascum thapsus† In very rapture wraps us, As its kingly candle kindles in the morn. In the woods the Anenome nemoroes you will find Mitchella, Tiarelle and the lithe Celastrus twined. And the Monotropa Hypopitys-- A very spooky cup it's That may scare the superstitiously inclined. There are many more that flourish on this fair and fertile farm, I should like to name them all and Catalogue each charm-- The curious Cruciferae, Umbrellared Umbellifarae, The laughing Labiatae, the glorious Aggregatae, Rosacae, Malvacae--but do not take alarm, For I'm only just a botanist, and I really mean no harm.--F. L. Sargent in Youth's Companion. *Called in England "welcome to our house." †Known in Europe as "king's candle."

WHAT DO THEY DO WITH IT? The Mystery of the Constant Chinese Demand For Ginseng. Passing through the wholesale district the other day a reporter stopped in at one of the large houses to ask about price. When ginseng was reached in the list, the dealer said: "What the Chinese use ginseng for is to the masses one of the mysteries of the age, but that they gobble up every ounce of the herb that the known world supplies is nevertheless a fact. Because the most thorough inquiry has failed to bring about a complete unfolding of the secret is not regarded by the average American as sufficient reason for refusing from $3 to $5 per pound, on the average, which the Celestial offers for the root. Some of the largest firms in China make a specialty of handling the

American export of ginseng and coin money at it. Some of our shrewdest traders have coaxed for the seret, and have offered money for it, but the gray matter at the other end of the China-

man's cue doesn't seem to see it that way.

"The American ginseng is growing scarcer yearly. The cultivated root has not the wonderful power which fixes the

value of the wild article--at least it does not manifest itself to the same degree. This fact renders the cultivation

of ginseng rather unprofitable. It might

be planted and allowed to grow well for years and years and then be salable at

good figures, but not otherwise. The older the plant, the more pronounced the

wonderful properties of the root. In view of the fact that it is growing scarcer, unless the demand diminishes, the price of ginseng must go materially higher within the next few years.

"We encounter some funny experiences in buying the root. The diggers are often the poorest people, and far from enlightened. Well, the root is hard to get, and when it is thoroughly dried the weight shrinks like a nickel's worth of soap after a hard day's washing, so the digger resorts to all sorts of deceptions to fudge an ounce or two in a pound and reap more of the precious dimes and dollars. For instance, we have frequently gotten in root which was well dried, but suspiciously heavy. Upon investigation we found that many of the pieces were loaded with lead, thus almost doubling the weight of the whole lot. This was done with a great deal of cunning and ingenuity. When the root was green, it was split, and lead melted and poured or driven in in slugs. The root was then allowed to dry, and in the process the seams entirely close up, completely hiding the lead, which, in a case like this, was almost worth its weight in gold."--Nashville American.

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.

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.

JOSEPH F. HAND, ARCHITECT, CONTRACTOR AND BUILDER,

Ocean City, N. J. Plans, Specifications and Working Drawings furnished. Estimates given on Application. Satsifaction 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.

HARRY HEADLEY, OCEAN CITY HOUSE, 717 Asbury Avenue.

PLASTERING, BRICKLAYING.

Ornamental Work of Every Description. All kinds of cementing work and masonry promptly attended to.

GEO. A. BOURGEOIS & SON, Carpenters and Builders, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Estimates given. Buildings erected by contract or day.

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 South Second Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA.

LEANDER S. CORSON, ARCHITECT, CONTRACTOR AND BUILDER, Ocean City, N. J.

Plans and specifications furnished. Terms

reasonable. First-class work.

STEELMAN & ENGLISH, Contractors AND Builders,

Ocean City, N. J. Plans, specifications and working drawings furnished. Jobbing promptly attended to.

L. S. SMITH, CONTRACTOR IN Grading, Graveling and

Curbing.

PAINTING BY CONTRACT OR DAY.

Eighth St. and Asbury Ave.,

OCEAN CITY, N. J.

Bakers, Grocers, Etc. JACOB SCHUFF, (Successor to A. E. Mahan,)

THE PIONEER BAKERY,

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.

TREATMENT BY INHALATION! 1529 Arch St., Philad'a, Pa.

For Consumption, Asthama, Bron-

chitis, Dyspepsia, Catarrh, Hay

Fever, Headache, Debility,

Rheumatism, Neuralgia, And all Chronic and Nervous Disorders.

It has been in use for nearly a quarter of a century. Thousands of patients have been treated, and more than 1000 physicians have used it and recommended it.

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

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

"Please accept my sincere gratitude for the restored life of happiness and health and vigor and usefulness that the Compound Oxygen has

certainly given me.

"While I was always considered a healthy child, I was known to be dyspeptic from baby-

hood. It was inherited. For two years I was confined almost constantly to the lounge. For more than four years I did not know a moment free from pain. All this time dyspepsia con-

tinued is ravages, except when temporarily relieved, and aggravated other serious disorders.

My friends and physicians thought I would not recover. To-day I am entirely cured of dys-

pepsia, can enjoy articles of food 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.

IF SOME MEN WILL READ THIS: They Will Then Learn What Modest Women Think About Them.

"Why will men be such beasts?" said an indignant young woman to a friend as they alighted from the "L" at Fiftieth street one day last week. "I have just suffered acute mental anguish for the last few minutes because a great brute of a man would insist upon crowding up against me and touching me with his knee. There is nothing so maddening to a modest, refined mind as that. A woman is practically defenseless.

"Now tonight the cars were crowded, and I was tired enough, as you may imagine, to drop down into that vacant seat with a sigh of r elief, which was quickly changed to anxiety when I realized what I should have to endure from the man beside me. I moved over so that he could not touch me without changing his position. Under pretext of unfolding his paper, he followed me, watching me narrowly out of the corner of his eye, or rather I felt he was, for I never looked at him. Finally I moved as far as I could without falling into the aisle. It was no use, and I just jumped up and held to a strap the rest of the way.

"It is at such times as this that I long for some one--some man with a real, manly heart in him--to teach such a creature as that that there is an unwritten law at least which keeps men from forcing their attentions where they are not wanted. I wonder sometimes if it is because I am obliged to work for a living that I have to endure such things."

"I do not think that fact makes any difference," said her companion," for I saw a pretty little doll of a woman who toils not nor spins pass through a similar experience on a Broadway cable car. She stood it as long as she could, and then she brought her umbrella down be-

tween her and the obnoxious creature with a thud that made every one stare.

"All the women in the car took in the situation at a glance adn shot such glances at the manner that he sneaked off the car after a block or two.

"The little woman looked relieved, but she forgot to relax the tense lines around her mouth, and the bright red spots did not fade from her cheeks. Since that I have used my own umbrella to stave off obnoxious persons."--New York Press.

The Public's Own Fault. Jazkins--Bicyclists are so common nowadays, I suppose that nobody pays any attention to them. Bizmog--That's just it. People pay no attention to them, and then they denounce the bicyclists for running them down.--Roxbury (Mass.) Gazette.

STRAIN ON THE EYES. Children at School Are Inclined to Have "the Academy Headache." One of the common causes of pain above the brows is the overuse of the eyes and the strain of accommodation in constantly looking at near objects. In its transient form it may be familiar to some as the result of a visit to a picture gallery, but in more senses than one this may be known as "the academy headache," for if it is temporarily developed in a morning spent at Burlington House it is even more readily excited and permanently established among the children at the board schools and the girls of the high schools. Seventy two per cent of the children of today are said to be sufferers from defective eyesight, generally in the direction of difficulty in seeing near objects clearly. Headache is almost always present in the cases of the poor little creatures, whose bodies are starved while their minds are overfed in the scramble for educational grants. The ocular headache is often coexistent with the anemic headache, especially in growing girls. Here we find frontal or supraorbital pain, due to eye strain, associated with the vertical pain felt all over the top of the head, which is characteristic of bloodlessness. Plenty of wholesome food, fresh air and out of door exercise will help to combat the anemia, while the practice of looking at distant objects, and, about the use of appropriate spectacles may relieve the headache of eyestrain, but reading, writing and sewing will permanently damage the sight, so that for the sake of education and in the struggle for life the coming race is growing up purblind.--Philadelphia Press.

A Reasonable Mistake. "Young man," said the nearsighter passenger, "would you mind getting up and giving this old gentleman a seat?" "Sir!" exclaimed the bloomer girl and the bearded lady simultaneously.--Chicago Tribune.

ISRAEL G. ADAMS & CO. Real Estate AND Insurance AGENTS, Rooms 2, 4 & 6, Real Estate & Law Building, ATLANTIC CITY, N. J. Commissioners of Deeds for Penn-

sylvania.

Money to loan on First Mortgage. Lots for sale at South Atlantic City.

J. L. HEADLEY, CARPENTER AND JOB SHOP, OCEAN CITY, N. J. Job work promptly attended to. Turning, scroll sawing, window and door frames, and all kinds of millwork. Furniture repaired.

Picture frames. Wheelwright shop attached. Net screens a specialty. Residence, West below 12th St. Mill, corner 10th and West.

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.

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.

NOW OPEN FOR SEASON OF 1895. BELLEVUE HOT BATHS, SAMUEL SCHURCH, Boardwalk, between 7th and 8th Sts.

New Suits for surf bathing.

HIS FAILURE.

I should have never have known that he was a failure if he had not told me so himself. Most assuredly he had not the air of one. For his coats were always fashionably cut, and his taste in liqueurs was almost as delicate as my own, and he could afford to gratify it far more frequently. Such was the testimony of appearance, and so far as I knew his history it pointed to the same conclusion. He had been, I understood, a writer, like myself, though even less successful, and then "fortunate speculations" had enabled him to retire from a calling which he found more honorable than remunerative and spend his afternoons in playing billiards at the club. And yet Everard Deane esteemed himself a failure. He told me so emphatically one evening at the hour when truth "peeps over the glass's edge when dinner's done." "It was all that confounded Stock Exchange," he murmured, gazing gloomily into a glass of green chartreuse. I begged him to accept my cordial congratulations. "It's a better way to fail than most," I said. For I had known so many who failed upon the Stock Exchange and lived happily--drinking champagne and driving about in broughams--ever afterward. But Everard Deane protested. "I don't mean what you mean," he said. "I didn't lose any money on the Stock Exchange. I made it--lots of it. That is the mischief of it. That is precisely why I am a failure." He looked gloomier than ever as he spoke and ordered a second green chartreuse. Jerking his head so as to indicate a man at the farther end of the room--a well dressed man, excessively bejeweled--with whom, half an hour since, he had cordially shaken hands, he whispered: "That is the man who has been my evil genius. You know him?" "I think so. It's Morrison Parker, the great financier, isn't it?" "It is, and Morrison Parker, the great financier, has been my evil genius. It's a foolish story, but I sometimes like to tell it after dinner. A brandy and soda?" I accepted, and when the waiter had brought the glasses Everard Deane resumed: "I was an author, you know--a young author--with great aims and high ambitions. I made enough money to live upon by writing for the papers, but I looked upon literature, not as a trade, but as an art. I was a member of the Waste Paper club, where all of us professed to take the same artistic views of life and letters and sat up till the small hours discussing them through a haze of tobacco smoke and steaming grog. I was very happy there until the day came when Morrison Parker joined the club.

He owned a newspaper--The Stock Exchange Recorder, I think he called it--and therefore he was technically qualified. But when he came and sat up with us in the small hours he did not talk literature. He talked finance."

"Yet the two subjects may occasionally have relations with each other," I

suggested.

"Precisely. That is the point that Morrison Parker used to insist upon, especially when he had had a good day and made us drink champagne with him to celebrate his luck. 'Why do so many half educated city men profess to look down on authors?' he would ask.

And then he would answer his own

question. 'Because there isn't one author in 500 who knows how to make

£1,000 a year. Thta has always been

the great reproach of letters, from Dr. Johnson's time to ours. It's high time to put an end to that reproach. Why

don't you fellows do it?'"

I sighed, wishing that I knew how to put an end to it myself, and then I asked: "And did your friend descend from the general to the particular and tell you how it could be done?" "He did. He told us all to open a speculative account in Louisvilles." "Louisvilles? That is the name of an American railroad, I believe?" "It is. And opening a speculative account means buying the shares without being able to pay for them, selling them at a profit and putting the difference in your pocket. Simple, isn't it?" "Very simple," I said. "The merest child's play, provided that the shares go up." "Oh, they went up all right, and so did the others that I bought a fterward. I've never lost a shilling through following Morrison Parker's tips. I can't complain of that." "And yet you call the man your evil genius?" "Yes, I still call the man my evil genius because I lost my soul through him--my soul as an artist, that was so much to me." I started. I could not understand. But, with an impetuous impatience, Everard Deane hastened to make clear his meaning. "You call yourself an artist, and you do not understand? Do you imagine that an artist can meddle with these sordid actualities and not find his soul defiled by them? Do you suppose that he will sit down quietly to toil for doubtful gains indefinitely deferred, when he knows that a sudden turn of the market may put hundreds in his pocket? No, no, my friend, it is not possible. What does he do? Why, he buys every edition of the evening paper to see the prices. He runs into his club to watch the tape. He drives up to the city in working hours to ask his broker whether he ought not to sell. That is how it was in my case. That is how it must be in every case. My balance at the bank was growing, but while it grew my soul--my artist's soul, in which I gloried so--was dying, crushed out of its bright existence by the dead weight of material cares. And so things went until I stood, as it were, at the parting of the ways and swore that I would make my choice."

"Your choice?" "My choice between the artistic and the material life. I meant to make it dramatically too. There was still enough of the artist left in me for that. It was at midnight, in my chambers in the Temple. I took the manuscript of my half finished novel--the novel that was to make me famous--from the desk and placed it on the table. Beside it I laid a heap of share certificates, and transfer forms and contract notes. Between the two piles there stood a lighted candle. One of them was to be burned to ashes in its flame--one of them, and at this solemn hour I was to determine which, and, by determining, decide the whole course of my future life."

He paused. I had to press him before he would proceed.

"And then you burned"--"Neither," was his unexpected answer. "Neither, for I could not decide. My novel went back into the drawer it came from, to wait there till the old joy in the higher life came back to me. And that joy never came. Even to this hour it has not come. I look back to the old days. I long for them. But I know quite well that they will not return to me. The greed for gain, its ceaseless worries and anxieties, has killed my soul, and that is why I tell you that I am a failure." There was a melancholy, at once incredible and convincing, in his accents. Unless there were a woman in the case, I would not have believed it possible for a man so well to do to look so miserable. I sought to say something that might lift him out of his despondency. "Failure or no failure, at least you can go to Monte Carlo in the winter," I suggested.

"I know. I'm going next week with Morrison Parker," Everard Deane replied. And then he shook his head slowly and shrugged his shoulders gloomily, as though to say that the joy of sojourning on the Riviera while we were toiling in

the fogs was nothing to the price that he had had to pay for it.

And as I drove home that night to

Whitcomb street I tried to persuade myself that he was right.--Francis Gribbe in New Budget.

"Miracle Face" on a Tombstone. In the Oak Hill cemetery, at Stony

Brook, N. Y., a large tombstone of mottled Italian marble bears a remarkable portrait of an average sized human face. The picture is not the work of a

sculptor, nor has it been graven with the marble cutter's chisel. It is a natural production, the outlines of the face being formed by a peculiar grouping of

the clouded veins and dark spots characteristic of first class imported stone.

The remarkable peculiarity of this particular stone has been known for two or three years, and throughout the length

and breadth of Long Island it is re-

ferred to as "the miracle face." Standing near, as one would in reading an epitaph or inspecting the grain and polish of such a memorial shaft, the outlines of the face cannot be traced, but at a distance of 35 to 50 feet it is

as plain as though done with an artist's brush, the grouping of the spots, veins

and wavy lines combining to make not only a fair resemblance to a face, but a complete portrait, including hair, eyes,

nose, cheeks, mouth, chin, etc. Its out-

lines are clearest, of course, when the shadows and light play properly upon it, but at the distance mentioned, and in the proper direction, the portrait is plainly visible at all times. The face is on the back of the stone, and the eyes are so set as to appear to be looking down upon the grave of the person to

whose memory the shaft was erected.--

St. Louis Republic.

Words Which Rhyme Not. The number of English words which have no rhyme in the language is very large. Five or six thousand at least are without rhyme and consequently can be employed at the end of the verse only by transposing the accent, coupling them with an imperfect consonance or constructing an artificial rhyme out of two words. Among other words to which there are no rhymes may be mentioned month, silver, liquid, spirit, chimney, warmth, gulf, sylph, music, breadth, width, depth, honor, iron, echo.

Sunday Recreation.

Mrs. Ednah Cheney remarks: "It has always been my test for spending Sunday to see how one gets up on Monday morning. If on that morning work seems sweet and you are ready to do it heartily and happily, then you have spent your Sunday to some purpose. I don't care whether it is in church or out, in the fields or in your quiet home with a book in your hand, or playing or frolicking with the children. But however you have spent Sunday the test of it is that the dawn of Monday seems blessed and good and hopeful."--Philadelphia Ledger.

The Woman Medical Writer. A London writer, with due respect for women journalists, thinks that the only department of a paper that should be closed to a woman writer is the medical--unless of course she is a medical "man." He goes on to say that the medical columns of any London weekly, it is easy to perceive, are conducted by accomplished experts, but a case has recently come under his notice where a young woman who had failed as an art critic was set to answer the medical inquiries of correspondents on a country paper. "I forgot to a decimal what was the exact mortality of the district," he continues, "but the proprietor said if she remained much longer on the paper he should have had no subscribers left. One of her replies was something like this: 'To Daisy--Thanks so much for your kind letter. Yes. The mistake was mine. It should have been a quarter grain of strychnine instead of a quarter of a pound for your father's complaint. How unlucky! Better luck next time, but I was so very busy. Yes. There is no better shop for mourning than Jay's.'"

Church Properties, 1552. This is from a list of plate ornaments belonging to the church of St. Nicholas, Cole abbey, in the city og London, 1552:

Two candlesticks, copper and gilt, for high altar.

Two candlesticks of latten. A great lectern of latten, with five

branches to it.

Piece of latten for the pescal. Two holy water stops of latten.

A branch of latten that stood in the

roodloft.

Eleven candlesticks, small, of latten. Two more standards of latten. Two latten basins. Twenty-one latten books. Seven other latten books that stood before Our Lady and Gabriel. A beam with five hooks and two chains that hung before Jesus. Four small candlesticks for quire. Six bells with Sanctus bell in the steeple. A pair of organs.--Notes and Queries.