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The Anderson intelligencer. (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, June 10, 1869, Image 1

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An Independent Family Journal---Devoted to Politics, Literature and General Intelligence.
HOYT & CO.. Proprietors.
ANDERSON, S. C THURSDAY, JUNE 10, 1869.
VOLUME 4 -NO 50.
THE BANK CLERK'S STORY.
THE DETECTIVE DETECTED.
I bad been a clerk in the Bristol Bank,
in Providence, for eightoen years, and
had gained the confidence of the presi?
dent and cashier by uniform good beha?
vior and close attention to my work.
Other! clerks had come and gone; some
to mOce lucrative positions,, and some I
know not where, discharged as they had
been for inaccuracies in their books.
One of them, James Petrie, who had left
us about a year before the events hap?
pened which I am about to relate, had
bee'n; on friendly terms with me, and I
bad always found him an obliging, kind
hearted fellow. Ho had been rather too
fond Of the glass, however, and I had fre?
quently warned him that it would injure
biih in tho opinion of the officers of. the
bank if it should be discovered that he
indulged so freely. He had always prom?
ised me that he would reform, and had
always failed to do so.
At last he came to the bank one day
hi a state which certainly would betray
him if be should have to speak to the
cashier, which he had often to do, and I
was urging him to leave on the plea of
sickness, when tho cashier, who saw us
talking, called him to his room on some
matter of business. He went, and on en?
tering therroora stumbled against a chair
and fell. The cashier discovered his con?
dition, and when the president arrived,
poor Petrie was at once discharged. It
was a custom, when an employee left the
bank fbr the president to give him a
statement of his conduct while there,and
what was the cause of his dismissal.
Such a statement was handed to Petrie,
as he left-the office, ruined as to any pros?
pect of getting a position in a banking
house afterward. I had never seen or
heard of him from that. time.
About a year after I was summoned
into the president's room, and informed
that I had to start that evening for New
Hampshire. . He staled that iiardie, a
very eccentric man, who did a large bus?
iness with the bank, had wr?lten him to
send on a clerk to Keene, a .own in New
Hampshire, with $150,OUO to pay .for a
large amount of property which ho had
bought there. It would have been easy
for Hardie to have given a check on the
bank for the sum specified, but he had a
habit of always paying the money down,
atid ho now proposed to pay a clerk's ex?
penses to Keene and back rather than
dabble with checks, as he called it. I
had been chosen for the wo: k, and a tel?
egram was to be forwarded to Hardie to
tell him that I would start by tLo 7.40
p. m. train that night.
The money wtis ready, and I went
home to prepare for my journey, taking
it along with me. I had scarcely arrived
nt home when I was attacked with a
i complaint from which I occasionally suf
fered, and which completely prostrated
me lor tho time. It was 9 o'clock before
I got over the attack, and then I was too
late to get a train that night. I did not
think, however, that it was of much con?
sequence, as I could 6tart by the 4.30 a.
to. express train, and bo in time for the 7
a. ib. (rain from Bos.on to Keene. This
arrangement I carried out without think?
ing it necessary to inform my emploj'ers,
since Hardie would have the money with?
in a few hours of the time notified by the
telegram.
In due time I reached Boston, and was
passing up Tremont street on my way to
the Fitchburg depot, when a hand was
laid on my shoulder, and a voice quietly
said:
"You must be new to your business,
Glover ?"
"What business?" I inquired, as I
turned round and faced tho man. who ad?
dressed mo. There was something in the
tone of bis voice which made me think I
had heard it before ; but on looking at
his face I perceived that he was a stran?
ger to mo.
. "Ah 1 beginning to act," he said, look?
ing steadily at me. "There is no use,
however, trying that on," he continued.
"You were missed last night, and as you
had such a large sum of money it-was
thought strange, and word was 6ent on
here. I have been ( n the lookout for you
since, and now you had better accompa?
ny me to tho oftico without any disturb?
ance."
"What office?" I inquired, with more
amazement, for he was speaking in par?
ables to me.
"To my office," ho replied. "I am de?
tective Steel, and have to arrest you on
tho charge of attempting to make off
with a large sum of money from the Bris?
tol Bank of Providunce."
I was completely stunned. Surely I
most bo dreaming. But, no. There was
the detective of whom I had so often
heard, with his hand on my shoulder, and
looking into my face with calm satisfac?
tion. There could be no doubt of that.
And he must have been instructed to ar?
rest me. Otherwise, how could he have
known my errand so accurately. I
thought quiet submission was the best
course, as 1 could easily clear up an}'
doubt which might be cast upon me by
telegraphing to the president of the bank
how I had been prevented from starting
the preceding night. 1 therefore walked
quietly along with him till we came to a
house in Hanover street, where he said
the superintendent of police lived, from
whom he wished to got instructions re?
garding me. Ho had a pass-key, by
which he admitted himself, and wo went
into a room where a gentlemanly-looking
man was writing.
"Woll, Steel," said this person, "is this
your man ?"
"Yes, sir," was the detective's reply.
"He is quite green, or very deep."
"Has he got the money ?" inquired tho
superintendent.
"I left the matter of searching for that
till we should come here," replied Steel.
Then turning to mo and looking at the
valise in which I had the money, he
added, "I suppose jou have it all. Open
it."
1* did as directed, and the bundlo of
bills was produced. I observed a glance
of satisfaction pass between the chief and
his subordinate; but thinking nothing of
the circumstance, I proceeded to state
how I had been detained, and that I was
crossing to the Fitchburg depot to take
the train when Steel arrested me.
"Well, my friend," said the chief, ?tho
truth of your statement will soon be
known. It is suspicious, however, that
yonr mother should havo told the presi?
dent's messenger that you started last
evening, when you did not come by the
tram specified. In the meantime I shall
telegraph to our people at Providence to
make inquiries, and you wilt have to be
confined until the reply arrives. ".Steel,"
he added, turning to tho detective, "will
you show him down stairs to the floor
below? I do not wish his case a public
one until wo ascertain whether there be
any truth in his statement. He does not
look as if he were guilty."
As the doteetive requested <i.e to follow
him, I thanked the superintendent for his
courtesy, and requested him to let me go
on by the 11 a. m. train, as I had lost too
much time already. Ho said ho would
do what he could, and with a courteous
bow to him I tollowed the detective. Ho
conducted me to the cellars of the build?
ing, and, after turning several corners,
ushered me into a room in which -there
was ho window. He left a lamp with me,
saying that he would return or send some
breakfast to me, departed, locking the
door behind him.
What followed seems to me even now
like a hideous dream. As the detective's
footsteps receded bej'ond hearing, a cold
shiver passed through mo as if I were
being shut out from tho world, and had
taken my last look of the 6un. This
feeling I tried to cast off as being with?
out foundation, since I would certainly
be released within a few hours. Hut ever
and anon on : gonizing gloom would come
across my soul as I listened to catch the
noises by which I knew the traffic of the
city had commenced for the day must be
causing, sind failed to hear the slightest
murmur of a voice or the faintest roll of
a wheel.
As lime wore on and nine o'clock ap?
proached, 1 began to be impatient for tho
detective's return ; hut nine o'clock came
and went, and yet he did not make his
appearance. At first I seated myself on
the bench which I had found in the room,
but my impatience had soon caused me to
pace from end to end ot the apartment,
chafing in spirit at the disgrace which my
employer's suspicion hud brought upon
me.
Eleven o'clock passed away, and yet no
release. Tho ticking of my watch alone
broke the intense stillness around me,
and the watch continued its sharp click,
till I knew that the afternoon has passed,
and that night was closing upon the city.
Night had come, but it had brought with
it no prospect of escape from the solitary
cellar in which I was con-fined? For a
time my anxiety about the result pre?
vented me from feeling hunger or thirst,
but by degrees these two enemies attack?
ed me with full vigor. I had eaten noth?
ing since my usual dinner hour of the
previous daj', the illness which had at?
tacked me having made mo think noth?
ing of supper, and the train with which
I left Providence in the morning having
precluded the possibility of my eating
anything then. But hunger and thirst
were alike forgotten for the time as the
night rolled away and another morning
found mo still a prisoner. The lamp still
burnt, but the flame was waning, and an?
other hour would leave me in darkness.
I took tho lamp and with it examined
every corner of the room, that I might
ascertain whether there was any way of
escape. But, though I found no crevice
by which I might effect egress, I made a
discovery which sent an appalling thrill
of terror through my heart. In a sort of
cupboard "I found three or four loaves- of
broad and a large pitcher of water. As
soon as 1 found them, a terrible suspicion
s ruck me that I had been inveigled to
this den by some clever scoundrel who
had known of my having the money, and
that he and his accomplice had. locked
me up here to prevent my being able to
give information of the robbery. They
had left mo a little food to prevent my
dying for some diij'S ; but whether they
had made any arrangement for my final
release was of course unknown to me:
Probably not, for "dead men toll no tales,"
and possibly they had hoped for my
death, though they had made a compro?
mise with conscience by leaving me what
would keep me in life for a time.
These thoughts passed through my
mind with the 6peed nnd overwhelming
force of a thunderbolt. What if I should
never escape ? And if* this should happen,
and not only would I loso my life, but
my good name would also be destroyed ;
for my employers would never doubt that
I had fled with tho money. The sicken?
ing terror that camo over me unmanned
mo for a time ; but after a little 1 recov?
ered my fortitude, and uttering a short
prayer for support 1 shouted for help at
tho pitch of my voice, and hammered
with my hand at tho door. After I had
made as much noise as I could for seve?
ral minutes, I stopped to ?Hten, but all
was Bilent as a grave. At intervals I
repeated my endeavors to make mysolf
heard, but no reply came to my calls, nor
did any sound indicate that I had suc?
ceeded in drawing attention to my place
of confinement. Fnint and weary I
again bethought me of the food, and
groping my way to the place where it
been left (for my light was now gone,) I
ate and drank ravenously.
For dn\'8 and nights Uis weary, terri?
ble captivity continued. How time was
passed I could not tell. 1 had no light to
let rne see my watch. I called for help
till my Voice grew hoarse from continued
shouting. I battered the door with my
clenched fists till the skin was peeled off
them in flakes. I prnyed for help till my
heart was weary with the unanswered
cry, "Lord, help and deliver me." In
vain did I shout; in vain did I wildly
rush against the unyieldingdoor; in vain
did I send up my cry to heaven. No
help came, and I was almost tempted to
curse God and die. At last there came a
time when consciousness departed from
mo, and at the darkest hoar, when hope
had given way with me, theprayj&r which
I thought unanswered was heard, and the
help of which I despaired arrived.
When I recovered consciousness I was
lying on a sofa in a handsomely furnish
j ed room. There were three persons
around the sofa, two gentlemen, one of
{ whom was a doctor, and a young lady.
The lustrous eyes of the latter were filled
with tears, and, though she did not know
that I heard her, she muttered words of
deepest and most earnest sympathy. I
had again shut my eyes after a single
glance at those bright orbs of hers, and
now again I opened them, much to the
satisfaction of the iEnculapius who had
been laboring to restore my life. After
a little I wus uble to sit up, and the doc?
tor, seeing I was very weak, asked the
other gentleman if he could give me a
glass of wine. Scarcely had he uttered
the request when my fair friend bounded
from the room and presently returned
with some sherry. The wino revived
mo so much that I was able again to
speak, and thank them for their kind?
ness. Naturally enough they inquired
how I had come to be in tho cellar, and I
at once told them my story.
"You have to thank God, my friend,"
said the gentleman, "that my daughter
there is gifted with the faculty of acute
hearing. Tw6 days ago she returned
from the country and on going into the
3*ard behind tho house, yesterday morn?
ing, sho heard a voice as if down in the
bowels of the earth, calling for help. She
listened for a little while without being
able to distinguish from what direction
tho noise proceeded, and presently the
sounds ceased. This morning she heard
them again, and after a little hesitation
decided that they came from the cellars
of the neighboring house, which has been
untenanted for soino time back. She told
me of the matter, and prevailed upon me
? f or I can refuse her nothing?to get the
house searched. Procuring a couple of
policemen and the necossarj* authority,
we entered the house, and, after search
ing a number ol closets, at last came
to tho one where you were confined. We
had to break open the door, as we had no
key, and this we hesitated about doing;
but Annie was so suro that sho was cor?
rect as to tho locality, and I had previous?
ly got so many proofs of tho extreme
acuteness of her hearing, that I consen?
ted at last to yield to her entreaties, and
I thank God that we did so, for we found
you lying in a stupor from which you
probably would have never recovered
without assistance."
When he had ceased speaking, I turned
mv grateful eyes upon the beautiful girl
who had saved me, and in broken words
of gratitude uttered my thanks. A wo?
man feels a greater interest in a man
whose life she has saved than in any one
who has saved her, and therefore my
thanks were to her more than a reward
for what sho had done.
Le Baw, her father, told me that he
had beard of my disappearance and the
loss of the money, and he proposed that
he and Dr? Swinton should telegraph to
the officers of the bank, telling thorn
what had happened to me. At tho same
time 1 communicated vnth the police of
Boston, and a detective officer soon ar?
rived at Le Baw's house, to whom I re?
lated what had happened to me.
"This detective must himself be detec?
ted somehow," said the officer, laughing.
"It will never do to allow any person who
chooses to assume the functions of the
office to escape scatheless. Can you give
any duo to the persons who robbed you ?"
I could not say anything definito, but
tho conviction had grown upon mo that
the man who had represented Steel was
known to mo.
"Think of all that ho said to you." said
tho detectivo, "and try to fix upon some
particular word, and then recall the voices
of all the people you can remember.
"Ah !" ho half shouted, "I see you have
it already."
And, indeed, I thought so myself, for
the man had pronounced the word "mon?
ey" in a peculiar manner, as if it were
"munee." I stated this to him, saying
that a clerk who had formerly been in our
bank had pronounced it in the samo man?
ner, and that when I had met the preten?
ded dotectivo, I had had a vague convic?
tion ot having heard ihat voice before
"He's our man !4' said the detective, tri?
umphantly. "Now we have only to find
him. Description, please."
Though I could not convince myself
that Petrie, my old friend, could bo the
offender, I waB in justice compelled to give
his description; and as soon as he had got
it in full the detective left, saying ho
would call again in the course of the day.
When ho left I was glad to sleep, for I
was utterly worn out; and sleep I did till
seven o'clock, when I w as aroused to have
another interview with tho detective,
whom 1 found bona fide Steel this time.
The latter* was hot with iro that he should
have been represented so successfully for
such a purpose. '
They had discovered that Petrie had
been a clerk in tho telegraph office, and
lhat ho had resigned his situation on the
day that 1 had been immured in the cel?
lar. They had found, too, that he had
been living a verj- fast, life, and that the
manager of the office where he worked
had not been sorry when he left, fer he
had often been under the influence of
liquor, and he was scarcely to be trusted
about important werk. They had further
ascertained that two men had taken two
furnished rooms in the vacant house ad
| joining Lo Baw's on tho evening before,
and though neither of them resembled
Pctrie in appearance, thej' had no doubt
that it had been him in disguise. They
had telegraphed also to New York, in?
quiring whether a person of Petrie's de?
scription, either as he really was or as he
appeared with the disguise, had been seen
there, and they hoped to have some cor?
rect information for me in the morning.
I spent tho rest of the evening in the so?
ciety of Annie Le Baw and her father,
and considered it the happiest of my life.
Her pure heart rejoiced that she had done
me good, and her eyes beamed with pity
as she talked of the tortures I must have
undergone. In short, I loved her, and
unconsciously to he rself the feeling, which
began as mere sympathy, deepened into
love on her part, though I did not know
it then.
Two weeks passed before any trace was
found of Petrie. At last it was discover?
ed lhat a passsenger resembling him had
crossed in the steerage of one of the ln
man steamers, and detective Steel and my?
self wero dispatched in pursuit. At Liv
erpool we were somewhat at fault, but by
dint of close, untiring search on our own
part and that of a Scotch detective by the
name of McLevy, we at last hunted our
prey down to the city of Edinburg. Hav?
ing ascertained lhat Petrie wasacommon
name in Scotland, we went to the capital
of that country, and there we got good
assistance. Petrie had dropped the char?
acter of a poor man, which he had sus?
tained while on beard tho steamer, and
was now sustaining that of a millionaire,
who had made a fortune in America. The
detectives pounced upon him as ho was
going to church, and we brought him
back to this country to pay the penalty
of his crime.
At his trial he pleaded guilty, and said
that he had seen the telegram to Hardie,
as it was being changed from one line to
another at Boston ; and feeling persuaded
that I would bo the bearer of the money,
he determined to n uke a bold attempt at
getting possession, and adopted the plan
which was so successfully carried out.
He had got two-thirds of the money, the
accomplice whom ho had found it neces?
sary to employ having been satisfied with
fifty thousand dollars as his share of the
prize. He, too, was captured by Petrie's
description of him. and both are now ser?
ving their timo in prison.
The cashier of the bank retiring soon
after, tho directors were kind enough to
bestow that position on me, in reward,
they said, for the sufferings I had under?
gone in their service. About a year after
my return from Scotland I paid a visit to
Boston?not the first since 1 had met the
pretcnted detective there, by any means
?but I mention this one particularly, be?
cause then I took Annie home with metis
my wife; and she has since proved herself
the dearest and bent wife in Providence,
her only fault being that she occasionally
laughs at me for having been so easily de?
ceived by Petrie. I meekly reply that I
do not care new, since 1113' captivity
brought mo the good fortune of meeting
her.
The Press and the Public?One of |
the moat common, but most absurd mis?
takes which people make now-a-days,
says the Charleston News, is in imagining
that a community confers upon the news?
paper which it supports on obligation,
which can only bo cancelled by the most
obsequious compliance with tho whims
and deference to the opinions of the in?
dividual among the mass of its readers,
who may lake the t roublo to favor it with
his views. Modern journalism, like its
sister institutions?tho postal system and
the telegraph?gives to tho public advan?
tages out of all proportion to the money
value at which they are rated; and the
man who buys a good newspaper; avails
himself of a privilego, tho extraordinary
cheapness of which he can hardly appre?
ciate because of its habitual enjoyment.
Tho advertiser, likewise, who makes
known his business through the columns
ot a journal circulating widely among all
Classes, ought to understand that he there?
by secures the richest possible return
for tho trifling sum ho may have inves?
ted. In both cases, the customer gets his
full mone3''s worth many times multipli?
ed ; and tho assumption that there is an}'
obligation whatever in either is 6impl}'
proposterous. Tho terms "patron" and
"patronage" as applied to the readers and
business of a newspaper, are still used 1)3'
some countiy editors ; but have long since
boon repudiated by all journalists who
are mindful of tho true position and dig?
nity' of their calling.
-o
? An editor thus distinguishes be?
tween different sorts of patriotism
"Some esteem it sweet to die for one's
countn- ; others regard it sweeter to
live for one's countiy; but most of our
patriots hold its eweeter to live upon
one's countr3T."
? Can an3T one tell how it is that a
man who i6 too poor to pay four cents a
week for a good weekly paper, is able to
pay fifteen cents a day for tobacco and ci
garH. to say nothing of an occasional
drink ?
? Unsocial old Snarl says that love is
a combinatiou of diseasos?an affection
of the heart and s,n inflammation of tho
brain.
?ttlfavtmt ^UtiftjiS.
A 'Famous Full of the Nosa.
Two hundred and fifty-six years ago
this month, Pocahontas, daughter of Pow
hatan, was married to John Rolfe, at
Jamestown, Va. She d;ed in England in
March, four years after her marriage, leav?
ing one son, who returned to Virginia to
reside, and there left descendants/among
whom was John Randolph, of Roanoke.
Robert ?. Randolph, cousin of John, died
at his residence ?n the corner of Four-and
a-half and C streets, Washington, on the
morning of the 20th inst., at the age of
70. He was the man who- tweaked the
nose of Andrew Jackson, Old Hickory
being then President of the United States.
The pulling took place in the cabin of a
steamer which stopped at Alexandria on
its passage down the river. Randolph
went aboard, marched up to Jackson, who
supposed he Mas confronted by a friend
till the thing was done. Randolph got
beyond the jurisdiction of the country po?
lice before a process could be issued, and
escaped arrest. The 6cene when Jackson
found himself with a pulled nose is de?
scribed by those who saw it as one of <;tn
peudous rage. The citizens of the Dis?
trict of Columbia were in a foam over the
indignity, and the whole couutry, in fact,
was for a time in a tempest, the trium?
phant Jackson party feeling that its own
nose had been twisted by this audacious
descendant of Pocahontas. Gen. Van
Ness, then Mayor of Washington, sent a
solemn message to the Councils on the
event, and the Boards responded in a sol?
emn resolution of condolence and indig?
nation.
No wonder that Randolph had to dodge
from place to place for two years to avoid
arrest. Finally, it is teported that an
officer now living, was authorized to in?
form Randolph that if he would apologize
for his insult to the President, he would
be reinstated. This Randolph declined to
do until the President had first apolo?
gized. It is hardly necessary to say that
no apology came. After twenty-three
years of service in the navy, and much
gallant conduct, Randolph without much
property, and without a profession, was
turned adrift upon the world. During
the administration of James Buchanan,
John B. Floyd, then Secretary of War,
gave Randolph the position of Superin?
tendent or the Armory in Washington ;
but he only held the place a short time,
as Buchanan, hearing of the appointment,
ordered it to be revoked for reasons best
known to himself. The origin of the
trouble between Jackson and Randolph
was this: Some few years ago, it will be
remembered a person named Bouganini
eloped from New York w ith the property
and neice of his wife, whom he had then
recently married; the forsaken wife was
once the wife of General Eaton, Secretary
of War to General Jackson , and prior to
that the wife of one Timberlake, * ho died
a purser in the United States Navy. On
the death of Timberlake, Randolph, who
was then a lieutenant in the navy, was
appointed to act temporarily as purser in
his place. He found his accounts in a
mixed condition and a deficiency existing
against him. Before he had a chance to
settle his accounts, Mrs. T. became the
wife of General Eaton, Secretary of War,
who was also surety for her former hus?
band. It became apparently of interest
to both that the deficiency charged should
be shifted to other shoulders than those
of the dead purser. An attempt was
made to carry out such a scheme, with
Randolph as the victim. Randolph asked
for a court of inquiry, which being grant?
ed, he was cleared of all suspicion by its
report. But, nevertheless, President Jack?
son ordered his dismissal from the navy.
Not long after this, while Old Hickory
was passing down the Potomac on a
steamer, in front of Alexandria, and du?
ring a pause of the boat at that place, Ran?
dolph came on board and deliberately and
most effectually wrung the nose of his
Excellency^
Randolph entered the navy at about the
age of sixteen, and had command of a di
vision on the quarter deck of the frigate
Constitution under Decatur, in her action
with and the capture of the British frigate
Macedonian. He was also in the Presi?
dent when that ship was captured by the
Endymion and other British vessels, and
was carried a prisoner to London, where
he cowhided a British Officer for using
contemptuous language concerning Amer?
ica. A brother of his went down with
the sloop Wasp, which sunk at sea after
her fight wjth a ship, the name of which
escape? me. He was less than five feet
ten in height, rather slim, had hair of
light color, in youth, as shown by a min?
iature taken in New London soon after
the capture of the Macedonian; his nose
was slightly Roman, and he had eyes like
an eagle in clearness and power of expres?
sion. In his eyes and nose alone were
perceptible traces of his Indian origin.
He leaves a wife and four children, one a
son.
? The Chester Reporter says that per?
sons who bought and planted Dickson
Cotton Soed, in that and York County,
agree in tho statement, that the plant
from this seed has sulFcred more from the
cold weather than any other kind of cot?
ton. As a general rule they have failed
entirely in getting a stand.
? A gentleman, who was consoling a
young widow on tho death of her hus?
band spoke in a very serious tone, re?
marking that ho was one of the few?
such a jewel of a Christian?yon cannot
find his equal, you well know. To which
the sobbing fair one replied, with nr. al?
most broken heart, "I'll bet I will."
? It always gives force to a teacher's
words when his hearers well know that
he carries out his own instruction.
Tue End of Four Great Men.?The
four conquerors who occupy the most
conspicuous places in the history of the
world arc Alexander, Hannibal, Casar,
and Bonaparte.
Alexander, afier having climbed the
dizzy night* of his ambition, with his
temples bound with Chaplets dipped in
the blood of millions, looked down upon
a conquered world, and wept that there
was not any other world for him to con?
quer, set a city on fire, and died in a scene
of debauch.
Hannibal, after having, to the astonish?
ment and consternation of JRome. passed
tho Alps, and having put to flight the ar?
mies of the mistress of the world, and
stripped "three bushels of gold rings from
the fingers of her slaughtered knights."
and made her foundations quake, fled
from his country, being hated bv those
who once exultingly united his name to
that of their god, and called him Hani
Baal : and died at last by pnieon adminis?
tered with his own hand, nnlamented and
unwept, in a foreign land.
Caesar, after having conquered eight
hundred cities, and dyeing his garments in
the blood of one million of his foes, after
having pursued to death the only rival he
had on earth, was miserably assassinated
by those he considered his nearest friends,
and in that very place the attainment of
which had been his greatest ambition.
Bonaparte, whose mandates kings and
popes obeyed, after having filled the earth
with the terror of his name?after having
deluged Europe with tears and blood, and
clothed the world in sackcloth?closed his
days in lonely banishment, almost literal?
ly exiled from the world, yet where he
could sometimes see his country's banner
waving over the depot, but which did not
and could not bring him aid.
Thus these four great men, who seemed
to stand the representatives of all those
whom the world calls great?these four
men, who each in turn made the earth
tremble to its very centre, by their simple
tread, severally died?one by intoxication
or, as was supposed, by poison mingled
with his wine?one a suicide?one mur?
dered by his friends?and one a lonely ex?
ile ! How wretched is the end of all such
earthly greatness!
-?.
j A Touching Story.?The Hon. A. H.
Stephens, of Georgia, in a recent address,
at a meeting at Alexandria, for the bene?
fit of tho Orphan Asylum and Free
School of that city, related the following
anecdote:
"A poor little boy, on ?cold night, with
no room or roof to shelter his head no pa?
rental or maternal guardian or guide to
protect or guide him on hi* way. reached
at. nightfall the home of a wealthy plant?
er, who took him in, fed and lodged him,
sent him on his way wit.i his blessing.
These kind attentions cheered his heart
and inspired him with fresh courage to
battle with the obstacles of life. Years
rolled round. Providence led him on,
and he reached the legal profession; his
host had died ; the cormorants that prey
on the substance of man, had formed a
conspiracy to get from tiie widow her i s
tate. She sent for the nearest counsel, to
commit her cause to him, and that coun?
sel proved to be the orphan boy long be
fore welcomed and entertained by her de?
ceased husband. The stimulous of a
warm and tenacious gratitude was now
added to the ordinary motive connected
with the profession. He undertook her
cause with n will not easy to bo resisted ;
he gained it; the widow's estates were *e
cured to her in perpetuity," and Mr. Ste?
phens added, with an emphasis of emotion,
that sent an electric thrill throughout the
house, "that hoy stands before you"
- ?- .
? In Hartford, recently, a stranger
went to a hotel for a bulb, and as Le did
not emerge from his retirement for an
hoi r, the proprietor entered with fears of
suicide in his heart, to see what was the
matter. The stranger had only been
washing his shirt, and was waiting for it
to dry.
_The following is a volunteer tribute
to modest worth ana unobtrusive gentle?
ness of character : "The wheelbarrow :
fur simplicity oJ construction, strength,
courage, and general moral excellence, it
is the superior of the velocipede, and
ought to be encouraged."
_ An eloquent orator proposes to
'grasp a ray of light from the great orb of
day, spin in into threads of gold, and with
them weave a shroud in which to wrap
the whirlwind which dies upon the bosom
of our Western prairies.'
_Although the devil will be tho fa?
ther of lies, ho seems, like other great in?
ventors, to have lost much of his reputa?
tion by the continual improvements that
have been made upon him.
? Josh Billings says : "I never bet any
stamps on the man who iz ulways telling
what he would have done if he had bin
thero. I have not ced that kind never
git there."
_A lady just arrived in Washington
espied the dome ot the capitol, and in
quired if it were the gas works. ^ "Yes,"
said a bystander, "for the nation."
? Jones thinks that instead of giving
credit to whom credit is due. the cash
had better bo paid. There is as much
truth in this as wit.
? When does the rain become too fa
miliar to a lady ? When it begins to pat?
ter on her back.
_ The first question that disturbed
man. was the woman question; and it bids
fair to be the last.
? It has been said tha;; fowls are the
most economical thing farmers can keep,
because for every grain they give a peck.
? A wag suggests that a suitable open?
ing for many choirs would he, "0 Lord
have mercy upon us miserable
? When did Moses sleep five in a bed?
1 When he slept with bis forefathers.

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