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"VOL. 19. YOBKYILLE, S. C., THTJESDAY, AU&UST 28, 1873. NO. 35. Selected Jfturu. LITTLE THINGS. One step and then anotlier. And the longest walk is ended; One stiteli and then another. And the largest rent is mended; One brick upon another, And the highest wall is made; One flake upon another, And the deepest snow is laid. So the little coral-workers, By their slow but constant motion, Have built up those pretty islands, In the distant dark-blue ocean ; And the noblest undertakings Man's wisdom hath conceived, By oft-repeated effort, "Have been patiently achieved. A little?'tis a little word, But much may in it dwell; Then let a warning voice he heard, And learn the lesson well. The way to ruin thus begins, Down, down, like easy stairs; If conscience suffers little sins, Soon larger ones it bears. A little theft, a small deceit, Too often leads to more ; 'Tis hard at first, but tempts the feet, As through an open door. Just as the broadest rivers run From small and distant springs, The greatest crimes that men have done Have grown from little things. $lte Jdoru Seller. A LAWYER'S STORY. I had only been at the bar a few months, but they had seemed weary, lon^ ones. It had taken all my money to furnish ray office and its shelves, and pay the first six months' rent. Then, I knew that Charlotte was waiting for me, aud, if practice didn't come soon, my clothes would become intolerably shabby. My best coat was shiny about the elbows, anyhow, and where the next one was to come from I could not imagine. In a county court there is always a little help for juniors, however, and I had made enough, by battery and larceny cases, and by collections, to pay for a meagre sort of board. That was all; and you may fancy how my heart thumped up into ray * 1 mn f r\ breast when one aay urauuisuu wacu 1UC L\J assist him in a murder case. He was our "great gun" in those days, before politics had made him so fat and lazy, and was, indeed, barring some small defects of maimer, a great lawyer and a noble-hearted gentleman. "Knox," said he to me, in his pompous v^ay, as he put his fat, white hand on my shoulder, "you do not push yourself enough, my young friend. I have been observing you, and I perceive you lack the essential quality upon which a bright forensic career depends. Get impudence, friend Knox; increase your store of that indispensable attribute of success, or prepare to be written down a failure! How would you like to aid me in Jake Moore's case ? There?say no more?I see how it is with you. Come to ray office to-night and talk it over with me." Jake Moore's case! A real murder, and the only one that had been committed in our county for years ! The most important case on the docket?one that would be reported in all the city papers, too! "0, I am not such a charitable fellow as you think," said Grandison, as I began to thank him at his office that night. "I am busy and?lazy. I haven't time to study up this case?and it needs study, for there's some mystery about it, or ray instincts are at fault. You have application and ambition, and it is profitable to us old lawyers to serve ourselves by means of you youngsters, with keen eyes. I'll get all the glory of it, and you'll have all Ko wnrlr t.n do. Fact is. I took the case for you, and for that murderous rascal's little girl?curious force of entreaty in her pathetic, wide blue eyes ! By the way, we will have to work for a ridiculously small fee?don't tell anybody?and let's divide. It's the preliminary process iu every partnership case, as you'll find by and by. Ahem! there's half of it." And he threw a fifty dollar bill across the table to me. I did not know, until years after, that this came out of his own pocket, aud that Jake Moore had not paid him a cent of fee. Few people know the big heart that beats within the hu^e body of our fat and insolent Senator, after all. "Never hem nor haw about fees, young man!" cried he ; "it is fatal to yourself and injurious to the whole profession. No good lawyer ought to think himself well paid, no matter what the fee. Good service ought to be always invaluable. Now, to the case." And he briefly detailed to me the circumstances under which Jake Moore had been arrested, and the grounds of suspicion against him. Jake Moore was a shoemaker in the village of Huraberg, in the western part of the county?a worthless, druuken fellow, who worked at his trade about two days in the week, to get money for making himself drunk the other five. He had drifted into the village some dozen years before that, with a slattern, red-haired wife, a puny, sickly baby, a cow, a pig, his tools, and a wagon-load of brokendown household gear. His worthless ways were thought to be his chief fault, for he was a good-natured, happy-go-lucky, who did not even beat his wife?indeed he was reputed to be beaten by her. When the Mexican war was about half over, Jake took a huff, a pat notiu icver, ui an uvciuuo& ui aum .v mw never rightly known which?and enlisted, coming-back after it was over with a sabrecut on the head and a pension. The wound, or something else, had changed his temper, and while he drank as much as ever, he was sullen, morose, and not talkative, even in his cups. He and his wife quarreled savagely, and when she died, a year or two later, Jake transferred his ill-temper to his daughter, a frail, timid girl, whom he beat sometimes so severely that the neighbors had to interfere. Such were the antecedents of Jake Moore, when on the 5th day of August, 1850, the body of the unknown stranger was found in a ravine near the little stream?"Pott's Level," it is called?that flowed through the meadows and woods about a mile to the east of Humberg. It was stiff and cold when discovered by two screaming school-children, straggling among the bushes after blackberries?stiff and cold, and frightfully disfigured with a wound across the throat, nearly from ear to ear, from which blood had flowed so copiously as to staiu the body from head to feet, and bespatter bushes, leaves, aud grass for several feet around. The alarm soon spread; and the constable, magistrate, doctor, and all the population of Humberg speedily gathered around the unwonted, ghastly spectacle. The body was that.of a noticeably elderly man, thought to be about fifty-five years old, short and stout, very ueatly clad in a suit of sober drab, cut Quaker fashion, and was at once recognized by several persons as the stranger who had been seen iu the village a day or two before ; a quiet-looking, yet well-to-do pedestrian, whose broad-brimmed gray beaver, and brown gaiters, aud respectable cane, had been remarked by. all. Broad-brim and cane were near by, but the man was dead, and nothing about his person gave any clue to his identity, Who killed him ? A shoemaker's knife, bloody on blade and handle, was found in the bushes near by, and identified as Jake Moore's property. The magistrate, acting coroner, issued a searcli warrant; Jake was found in the house stupid ly drunk, the girl scared and incoherent, and in a drawer in the living-room a pocket-booli was discovered containing some seventy 01 eighty dollars; and the stranger was known to have carried one like it, for he had paid for a pound of cheese and some biscuit at one j of the stores in the village. ( Jake was at once committed to jail, his daughter being permitted to go with him, and j . the coroner's jury rendered a verdict against hiin of willful murder of the unknown. Then followed the indictment, and now the trial was to come off, the murdered person, mean- j time, having been buried without being iden-1 tified. "Of course it will be conviction, as the case 1 now stands, and the fellow very likely is guil d-n,irl!cr<n "Knf- it. is nnr husiness I t> | oa 111 utauuiouu y .v .v ? ? to get hira off. I want you to visit Humberg, I , view the locality, and sift the witnesses. If we can get a clue to the Quaker, we may jind that some one else was interested in his end, or at least we may persuade the jury so." i j "But the pocket-book," said I; "isn't that i a circumstance which brings the thing right 1 home?" j "Oh ! no. The pocket-book may not posi- j i tively be identified, and if it should be, is j proof of robbery only. It may have been ' 1 lost, and found by Jake; or Jake may have , : robbed the man after death ; or, in short, the j pocket-hook proves very little. If Jake could i ; furnish an alibi, there'd be no trouble ; but the drunken man can furnish nothiug?says ! j he don't recollect, and don't care?is as good j dead as alive." "What does the girl say ?" "Well, her testimony's worth nothing, and j of course she is not any help. She says that the stranger gave her the pocket-book, after .asking her for a drink of water?a very likely tale, of course! However, he was seen by several to go in the house." I "I don't see how we are to defend him, Mr.! i Grandison." "Neither do I; but if we go about it right j j we will see, before the case is called. We ! ! have "a week to prepare in, and a good deal I j can be doue in a week. To-morrow morning I we'll have a talk with Jake and the girl; the . i mi . i? | next uay yuu 11 lukc my uuisc, hug u?g? ^ j Humberg, andascertaiu all the facts. If you i find a clue, follow it up regardless of the cost. j I've a shot in the locker if there's need, and J interest enough with the court to get a post- j ponement should there be any occasion. That's : : all. Here are some references to authorities, 1 which it will be well for you to overhaul be-! tween this aud the tfial. Young lawyers are always expected to spout text-books to the ! | court and jury, you know." I made little by my visit to the prisoner. 1 He was careless, taciturn, and refused to as- 1 i sist either Grandison or me to a knowledge of i | the circumstances. "I don't know anythingaboutit?drunk all that week?drunk when they fetched me in I here?wish I was drunk now, or dead ! It ! don't mattera wax-end, only for Sally there." ' j Sally sobbed, wept, and wiped her eyes on , < a dirty apron, and whispered : "He is always that way, since he could not j get any whiskey. It is no good to talk with i him. But he did not kill the strange gentle- [ man?no, indeed !" added she, looking up into j my face. j A dirty, puny, unhappy-looking, sallow girl of thirteen, was Sally?yellow hair, wild and j | uncared for, clothes tattered and filthy?yet | what a pleading innocence and convincing j frankness in her wide, straightforward eyes? Grandison beckoned her after him into the corridor. "Now, Sally," said he, "tell this gentleman what you told me." "Pappy was drinking harder than everj that week ; he'd "got paia for some work, and ' < j his jug was full on Monday. On Wednesday I it was empty, and sitting on his bench, savage- j KL-o on tViof T u-na linlf nfrnid of him. He ! didn't sleep none the night before; and Mrs. | McCauseland wouldn't trust him for the pint i he sent me for, you know, and that made him mad. Then it was after dinner, only I had . j none?pappy wouldn't eat, and I had only a ' piece of cold corn bread for my share?then | the strange gentleman came in?" "This was Wednesday afternoon ?" asked , ! Grandison. "Yes, sir, Wednesday, after dinner, he came I in?such a nice, neat-looking old gentleman, ' , and stands by the shop counter, and lays his ' 1 hand on it, and says,'Friend, will thee let thy little girl fetch me a drink of cool water from ! thy well ?' and pappy, he don't look up, but j cusses the strange gentleman, and tells him to get out of there. .So the strange gentleman : ! was going to say something more, only I beck- i oned to him to be quiet,and he went out; and j I took my mug and weut out the back door, to the well, and drawedhim a drink, and took j I it round to him, just as he was going through the gate. Aud he said, 'Thank thee,' and [ took the mug. And while he was drinking I j says to him, 'That's my pappy's shoe-knife | you've got in your hand, mister, ain't it ?': i And he says, 'Verily, it is, but I have need of j ; it more than thee, and I pray thee let me j ; keep it.' And I savs,?'Pappy'll most cut my ! liver out when he misses it, so you can't have it.' And he says, 'I did not mean to rob thee of it, but to take it at a fair price, and I will ! give thee money to buy a dozen like it.' And | with that he takes out his pocket-book and j studies over the notes, then says, kinder to ! himself, 'Nay, her needs seem to be great, and : mine are none any longer. Here, child, take and keep it all, and may the Lord bless thee!'; j And so he walked away, and I didn't see him ; j any more, only heard he was found with his ( I throat cut. But pappy didn't do it, for - he . Went. the house all that daw aud raved so. all "r ? * < ' night I couldn't sleep, and early in the mornj ing I took a dollar out of the strange gcntle| man's purse, aud run to Mrs. MeCauseland's, and got the jug filled for him, and that quieti ed him; and he was home the same way, drinking and stupid, until Friday night, when Mr. Bent, the constable, came and took him. And that's all I know about it, gentlemen, only that pappy hadn't anything to do with killing the strange g?itleman !" It was agreed between Mr. Graudison and me that I should make Sally's straight-forward yet very improbable tale the basis of my 1 inquiries at Humberg, and, if I could in any way verify it, I was then but to push the search after the old Quaker's antecedents, j i "But you will fail," said he ; "who ever heard j of a Quaker committing suicide, much less I stealing a knife to do it with !" "If there is anything to be found out, I j will find it," said I, confidently ; and the next i morning I rode over to Humberg. This forlorn place was a mere friuge of j ; houses on either side of a turnpike road, of a . cross-roads, and did not deserve the name of! village. There were first Mrs. McCausland's j store, and opposite it, Joliue's ; on the left j again,a couple of dwellings and another store, j I kept by Yingling; on the right, the house of i | Bent, the constable; next below, the residence j j of Stehlmann, coachmaker, and his shop, j ! Still on the right, the next house was the old dismantled tavern, with its broken windows 1 [ and creaking gibbet of a sigu-board ; below j that came Dr. Beard's, a long, low house, as J 1! shabby as its owner ; next, still on the right, I was the house attached to the toll-gate, kept by Holmes; then, in the middle of the road, . / I- .1 *1. ? | IIS 101'K, II1U WCUllIUI'Ut'tttcii iu^-iiuuoc pied by Jake Moore; on the left of it, the comfortable domicile of Williams, a carpenter ; on the right, the little cottage occupied by Miss Strait, seamstress and gossip. The I fork of the road to the left from the turn-pike j I led straight to the stream, Potts' Level, near ; where the body was discovered, i ; My inquiries established that, about noon of Wednesday, August 5'h,?it was very hot, I still, and sultry,?the stranger was first seen, ; coming down the road, dressed as I have de- j * scribed ; and all who saw him noticed his white cravat, neatly tied, but with the bow a little awry, and almost under the left ear. He went into Mrs. McCauseland's, bought cheese, showing the pocket-book that was identified, rested, asked a few questions, then crossed the road to Joline's, where he bought half a pound of biscuit; from there he went down the road. He gave no name, asked for no person, and no one had ever seen him before. He was seen by persons in Bent's family, by Stehlmann's hands, and by Yingling's clerk, to try the pump at the old tavern, but, it being dry, he could of course get no water. He passed through the toll-gate, and was seen by Beard and his wife, by Holmes, by Miss Strait, by Williams and his wile, aua several outers, iu open Jake Moore's gate and go in, presently come out again, and turn down the left-hand road. On Friday afternoon, after five, the body was found by two children, coming up the lane on their way home from school. Dr. Beard was convinced, by indubitable signs, that the stranger had been dead not less than forty-eight hours when the body was found. The knife was positively identified ; there were several witnesses to identify the pocket-book ; and Bent, the constable, was satisfied, from the position of the dead man when found, thnt he could not possibly have inflicted with his own hand the wound of which he died. The case seemed perfectly made out against Jake Moore. Miss Strait was willing to swear she saw a light in his house late that night, and motions of his shadow against the wall, as if of a person washing clothes. Mrs. Williams thought she had seen him on Thursday evening, coming rapidly from the direction of Potts' Level branch, and looking around him uneasily, as if to see if he were watched. There was apparently a perfect and inexpungable harmony in the evidence. I rode on through the village, and a mile or so along the turnpike, pondering the case, and grieving over its hopeless aspects. There was absolutely no chance that I saw, either to save .Tnlro Mnnrft frnm t.hfi PalloWB. Or tO STftin at " " # O' ' o tention to ray own merits as a lawyer. It was a perfectly blank wall, lip which climbing was impossible. ' i "Hallo, dere, mine friend ?" I looked up to see who called in such a harsh and broken bass. It was a German ; a tall, broad-shouldered fellow, with a heavy stoop in the back, who stood under the porch of a little tavern by the roadside. He beckoned to me, and I rode up to him. "Ja!" said he, in his rancorous tones, "I see you up dere shoost now, didu't I ?" pointing toward Humberg. I nodded assent. "So ! I tink so, den. Lawyer, eh, vrom court??cooni for Shake Moore's pisness?ah ? So den ! I tinks so! Shump down a leetle, und duke a class of bier mit me; I dells you someting about ura. I tinks ! Ja ! I sec um! I see um! Mien Himmel, Ja ! Heinrich, duke de shentlemench's horse a leetle beet! Coom, dis beer ish goot!" I dismounted, followed my German friend into his little bar-room, and drank a glass of bier with him. He pushed me a cigar over the counter, came out with a couple more glasses of bier, and showing me to a chair by a little table in a corner, sat down, and made me do likewise. "So den !" said he, after giving me a light, "I dells you sometings ! I dink Shake Moore not kill das Quaker, Ja! I dells Shon Pentj so.de gonstable, und de dells me 1 vas a pig j fool! Maybe I vas, but I tink Shake Moore not kill das Quaker." "What do you mean ?" I asked, in great excitement. I dells you. I see das mann, mein self. I vas go py de school house pack from Humpergonde evening, pout dusk vrom mein bruder's, unt ven I goes py te Botts' Lefcl pranch I see das mann sit py de fence in de dusk, unt he peckon mit me to go 'vay ; unt I i J? ...if luni /-\ti moin linrQP tn I Ul V IU IIUC V1UOU 111 I U 1J1W4 v/.l ?UVIM ..V.VV| VV see vat he vas if I knew him, unt vat de mat-; ter vas mit him ; unt you tink der fertamt! horse will not coom to him, bot brance, unt go pack, unt schweat, unt drimple, unt dom unt; runned avay ; unt ven I goes pack dere mit! de horse pimpcy, vhat you tink ! das olt mann I bin gone! He vas pale like das wall, unt I tink it vas his own throat he vas cut, not i Shake Moore." "When was that?" "Vat I dells you, mein friend. It vas Dursday efeniug." "Impossible! You mean Wednesday?" "I means vat I dell you, mein friend. It | vas Dursday in the efening! Vensday I vas thrash mein wheat, unt dat Dursday I vas go 1 to mein bruder's to get some butter unt eggs rait him?I vas go to market dot night. I reckon I don't go mit de market on Vensday night, mein friend. Dot is mein pisness to de market. Ja!" I "Who else saw him on Thursday?" "I don't know, mein friend! I dell you vat I saw unt vat I tink, unt Shake Moore vas not kill das mann, older I bin der pig fool vat Shon Pent vas call me. Bot I tink datMees Straidt, she dell you sometiugs about dat? she bin on de look out der ten year past, unt see all vat go py ! Ja! Ja! Unt das Holmes, mit de vooden leg, he dells you sometings, I tiuk. I pin nicht mein lawyer, mein freind, bot I tinks Shake Moore ish not put das oldt Quaker's lighd out dis time ! Ja !" In half an hour I was riding back towards Hum berg in a very different mood. Observ ing caution, I pushed my inquiries in every direction, and in the course of two days I had collected a mass of evidence, which, when I had analyzed it and laid it before Mr. Grandison, on my return, surprised that gentleman amazingly, and made him say, as he grasped my hand, "Knox, if you can prove the half of that, our man will be acquitted !" "I will prove it all, Mr. Grandison," I answered. When the case of the State vs, Jacob M. Moore was called, the next week, it was in the presence of a large and curious audience. For a wonder, both State and prisoner were ready for trial, the witnesses were all present, aud a jury was impanneled at once. Jake Moore sat in the box, stolid aud impassive as ever, but something improved in looks by a clean shirt and the use of a hair brush. Sally, by his side, looked liked another child. She was washed and combed, and had on a neat new frock and apron which Grandison had bought and the jailer's wife made for her. All the spectators were interested in her, and the hearts of most of them softened toward the prisoner for her sake. The State's officer made a brief statement of the law of murder, spoke of what he should prove, and claimed a verdict of felonious homicide of the highest grade. Then Mr. Grandison arose, and, after accepting the prosecutor's law, and saying that he would leave the facts to speak for themselves, informed the court that he was suffering from a severe headache that would prevent him from doing more than passively watching the case ; but that he had no scruples about it, since his client's interests were perfectly safe in the hands of his able and ingenious associate, whom he was proud to have as a co-Jaborer, etc. "Aha !" whispered the State's officer to me ; "the old fox knows he has no case, and wants you to take all the odium of a failure." "We'll see," I returned, oracularly, my face glowing and my heart throbbing with gratitude toward Grandison for his evident intention to let me have all the credit of our singular defense. The case went on ; the facts were proved as I have already told you ; and, as witness after witness gave in his statement, without any cross-examination by me, I could see that the District Attorney was beating his brain in a 1 puzzled endeavor to find out the line of de j fence I meant to adopt. But this was pre-1 a I cisely what I did not choose he should know. J a I asked but few questions. 1 made all the j witnesses give assurance that it was positively ; \ ; on Wednesday that the stranger had come j into Humberg, and had been seen to go into I ] f Jake Moore's. I made them assure the jury ' I j that the body was fouud on Friday evening, j c I carefully and plainly established, by ex- \ a haustive questioning of Dr. Beard, that the I i body, when found, could not have been dead f less than two days. I established also, by t I Mrs. McCauselaud, that she had refused Jake c Moore credit for whisky on Wednesday, and I j had sold his daughter a gallon for cash, early <] ! on Thursday morning. This fact, so damning, s i had not been elicited by the prosecuting at- J j torney, and when I brought it out plainly, he Ti ; stared at me full of wonder. a i "Which side are you on ?" asked he. : 1 "You'll see, presently," retorted I, glancing ; 3 j toward Grandison, who smiled a benignant! t i approval. " : s The case for the State was closed, and I c rose to open for the defense. ; fr "May it please your Honor, and gentlemen j n i of the jury," I said, "as there are mysteries j * 1 in nature, no matter on what side you view it, ^ 1 so there are things in evidence which are in- f j explicable, which it is folly to attempt to ex- i ! plain. We follow no theory of defense in j this case; we do not pretend to account for g j either the facts already adduced, nor for those j which we shall adduce. We simply give you r these facts, in order, by their own showing, to t make it clear that, whether the unknown was v 1 murdered or not, he was not murdered by the t j prisoner at the bar, and could not have been v | murdered by him. I have to request that the f j witnesses, both for State and defense, be re- 1 | moved, in order that all suspicion of collusion i : may be avoided." e j It was so ordered. 1 "Call Johann Ammermann." f j My triend or tne lager-Dier tavern toua tne i. | stand, and made the statement I have already c given. I insisted upon his giving an unmis- f j takable description of the person he had seen t I on Thursday evening, and he swore graphic- e | ally to the white cravat, with the bow a little t [ awry. s "Thursday!?he means Wednesday evening f ! of course," said the State's attorney, correct! ing- 1 "No, he don't!" said I; and Ararnermann } was spluttering positive that he knew Wed- 1: nesday from Thursday. " ! "But, your Honor," said the State's attor- s ; ney, "this is palpably a mistake. The.mur- i der took place on Wednesday?it could not o have taken place later ; how then could the s man have been seen alive on Thursday? It t is an absurdity !" t "That is our defense !" said I, quietly. "We v cannot prove an alibi for the prisoner, your c Honor; but we can show, by his daughter, r | that he was at home all day and night Wed- r nesday and Thursday, up to the arrest?" c "Much her testimony is worth?" sneered c the prosecutor. t "And, in order to corroborate and strength- .t en her testimony, your Honor," I went on, "we v j propose to prove an alibi for the deceased ! t | We propose to prove that he was alive, and s j was seen several times, after the time when t you have shown that he must have been dead." a "Absurd I" said the State's attorney. a "Your witnesses must needs be good ones, Y Mr. Knox, to show that," said the Judge, sig- 1 nificantly. i "Wait and hear them, your Honor, if you t please," said Grandison. i "Call John Coan." f Coan, a well-known farmer, took the stand, r "Mr. Coan, where were you on Thursday, ( A ?+1% nk/.nf A1 a'aIa/iIt in thn nflnr. u ilUgUSb \JlLlj ilUUUt 72 \J wutft >U ba*\* U^vi ? noon ?" d "At the gate-house, in Humberg, talking d to Holmes." a "How do you know that it was that day s and hour?" c "I asked Holmes the time of day ; as for the date, my cousin was buried that day, and I was just returning from the funeral?here's a paper with the notices and dates ; she died v on Wednesday and was buried on Thursday, j a | on accouut of the heat. I can't be wrong." j, "Well, while you were talking with Holmes, v what did you see at Jake Moore's gate?" "I saw a little, old Quaker come out, shut ? | the gate, latch it, stand a minute, then walk ^ slowly off down the lane towards Potts' Level ( I branch. He wore a drab sort of suit, a white, ' broad-brim hat, and his cravat was a white j one, tied up under his ear, like. It was the same man as was killed, for I saw him on ' Saturday morning, during the inquest." I e There was a sensation in court. ! t "Well, what else?" | d "Holmes asked me something; I turned to ' t ; answer him, and when I looked back the old ! c | man was out of sight. I went on home down j 1 I the lane, and just by the brauch, sitting on [ r the fence, who should I see but the old Qua*! i ker again ! He looked solemn and monstrous : t pale, and I wondered who he could be. Over ; * the branch, I looked back, but he wasn't in | c sight." r Mr. Coan was severely cross-examined, but ? ! his evidence was not shaken. The State's at- j c ' torney looked worried and puzzled. He could ; t not understand the thing at all, and seemed to j ? suspect a plot against him. The spectators j r were now in a fine state of excitement, and I j ? could see the most intense interest on the part: c of the jury. I r "Call Kufus Gorsuch." , ? "Mr. Gorsuch, where were you on Friday j j ! morning, early, of August 7th 1" . i 1 Mr. Gorsuch proved, unmistakably as Coan, i f | that on Friday morning at 5 o'clock he was , > | crossing Potts' Level branch, on his way to a I I "meet" of fox-hunters, when he saw the Qua- j t j ker, whom he most graphically described, sit-! ! ting on the fence. "He beckoned to me, and i 1 i I tried to ride up to him, but my mare shied-; 1 ! and cut up so I couldn't do it; and when I j i | did get her quiet, the old chap had got out of j i sight." . 11 Tho State's attorney only asked Gorsuch j * a question or two ; and now, witness after ; t witness, school children, old people, neighbors ! i ; and strangers, to the number of more than a ,? . dozen, came in one after another, and testified t to seeing the strange Quaker, at various in-1 t j tervals from Friday noon back to Thursday ? j morning; but none had seen him except upon i ! the fence, pale and beckoning, or else euter- \ s ing or departing from Jake Moore's door. 11 j The crowded audience was fairly electrified ; I j with excitement aud wonder ; the jury looked J * both puzzled and concerned ; and even Jake ( i Moore, rousing out of his stolid indifference, t showed an eager interest 'in the testimony. 11 Evidently he was as much perplexed as any j one else. Dr. Beard was recalled ; and, when i r he had carefully repeated his testimony, a dis- j I | tinguished expert told us that, upon that show-; c j ing, it was impossible for death to have taken : ( place so late as Friday morning or Thursday 1 i evening. I glanced at Grundison. He cast a search- ( j ing glance toward the jury, then nodded his 1 I head. * i | "Call Sarah Moore." ( Aud Sally took the stand, and, in her j i plain, simple, quiet, unreserved way, told the , t same story she had told before, softening the ' \ recital of her father's faults, and giving em- 1 phasis to the interview with the Quaker. Ev- ] cry word of her narrative told, and I saw j j that all the jury believed it, when none of < them would have placed the slightest faith i in it had it not been prefaced by the myste- I , rious confusion in the testimony. < "Do vou want to aruue it?" asked the < State's attorney. "I'll submit it if you say so, i ! for I can't make out a Chinese puzzle." j 1 ' "I've only a word to say," I said, glancing ' it a line which was tossed to me by Grandison is I rose. - (" Give 'em the supernatural?all ; uries believe in ghosts?and this Judge does," ! vas the sceptic's admonition.) "I have only a word to say, gentlemen. As , ! warned you in advance, the evidence on )Oth sides can neither be controverted nor re- j :onciled. There is a doubt as to the murder; | j i certainty that it was not committed by Jacob Joore. You cannot doubt that little girl's i rank blue eyes and untripping tongue. I; i ' 1 .1 L..1 tUlc. ! 01(1 you 1110 (101011250 IlttU UU bUUUi J tto t\j ULMIO :ase; but I, as an individual, have a theory, i ' believe that the unknown deceased went to ; i lacob Moore's and took that knife, as repre* j ented, with the purpose of committing suicide, i ! believe that he walked to that dreadful ra-! rine, on that Wednesday afternoon, and there I ind then cut his own throat, and died, and ] lis body rested there until it was found as ! mil have heard. I believe, nevertheless, gen-1 lemen of the jury, and I know that in your i ecret hearts you believe with me, that the | lead man, in his living image, either that or j j lis spectre, or a shape assuming that image, i ippeared as has been testified by the various | witnesses. Why, gentlemen of the jury?! iVhy should that unquiet ghost have returned | rora the regions to which it had just now fled n despair ?" "He came back to fix it on Jake Moore, I 1 ;ues8," said the prosecutor, laughing. "Ah, gentlemen of the jury," I said, "we i nay not go beyond the grave in search of mo*!: ives?it boots us little to vex the inscrutable | with our questions, but that, at least, did not I iring the unhappy spectre back. Jake Moore was already convicted, by the knife and the lurse, before that shade came back. May we ; lot rather assume"?I put it timidly?"that, 1 n the new born prescience of another exist- 1 nee, it was seen that by taking the knife and 1 eaviug the purse an innocent man's life was 1 iut in peril ? May not the dead man's spirit | ' lave dragged itself wearily back to the world ;1 ?f troubles, not to convict, but to acquit; not j * or veugeance, but 111 mercy and justice ; not; o follow up a criminal, but to-save the hunt- > d life of the innocent and unfortunate man leforeyou? Gentlemen of the jury, ask your- ' elves that question, and bid your own hearts * urnish the answer !" 1 Well, Jake Moore was acquitted, of course. ] The jury declined even to leave their seats. rVhen the applause that welcomed the verdict | ] lad ceased, Mr. Grandison arose and said : j1 May it please your Honor, while I should he !' orry to see the evidence of ghosts taken often j1 n this or any other court, against the evidence I ' if hard facts, I am happy in being able to ! how, in the most satisfactory manner, that ' he conclusion to whichk the jury has come, in j he present instance, is the right one. Since ' re have been sittiug here, I have seen an offi- ! er from Canada, who has given me the histo- ' y of the unfortunate deceased. He was a 1 nember of the Society of Friends, a person of J onsequence and property, Philip Dingle by : lame, and a most amial le gentleman, but, un- ( lappily, subject to occasional attacks of meual aberration. It was in one of these fits he 1 pandered off' and destroyed his own life in he manner described to you. That he him- 1 elf committed the deed we know from a leter written by himself, in the neighboring city, md there mailed a day or two previous to his ippearance in Humberg, in which he avows lis intention in unmistakable language. That etter was seut to his nephew and heir, living n Australia, and it has been the means of racing up Mr. Dingle and establishing his 1 dentity in an undoubted way. I knew these acts before the case was given to the jury, nay it please the Court," concluded Mr. 5raudison ; "but I was confident the prisoner < rould be acquitted, and I had not the impulence to interrupt the brilliant and ingenious lefense contrived by my young associate, who, ,s I need not say to your Honor, has this day < hrviun tiimaolf nn nmiimpnt and a lifdlt to ,,u"" w * ** " ? ? o ?ur profession. "What became of Moore and little Sally?" 1 "Moore never drank a drop afterward ; it ms enough to be warned by a ghost, he said; md he is now the owner of some land, and 3 doing well. Sally is a buxom farmer's wife, nth a houseful of children. I see them often." "I believe in ghosts, myself!" Reading. EARLY LIFE OF TALLEYRAND. \ Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Perigord, i ldest son of the C'omte de Talleyrand, was i 10m in Paris, in the year 1754. The Comtes i le Talleyrand were descended from a younger I iranch of the sovereign counts of Perigord, i me of the most ancient and illustrious famiies of France. The father of Charles Mau- i ice was a soldier, his mother a !ady-in-wait* j ng at court. In the very hour of his birth he infant was consigned to the care of a nurse, vho removed him at once to her home in a listant part of the country, where he was j eared very little differently to her own peasint children. This was the fashionable way >f disposing of infantine encumbrances in i hose days ; their advent was. a disagreeable i iccident, which condemned the fine ladies to a i nouth's seclusion ; but with that the trouble mded, the accident was given into the hands if some peasant nurse, and was thought of no nore until it was of an age to be trained for i soldier, a priest, or a courtier, as the case night be. When scarcely a twelvemonth old, ; le was lamed for life by a fall. Eleven years >assed away, during which time the fond nother had not only never seen, her offspring, >ut was eveu ignorant of the accident that had )efallen him. About this period his uncle, the Bailli de Talleyrand, a naval captain, returned to ?ranee after an absence of many years. Beng desirous of seeing his nephew, he made a ourney to the remote village to which the )oy had been exiled. It was in the depth of vinter that he undertook this expedition, and lie snow lay thick upon the ground. As he leared the place he met upon the road a bluejyed, fair-haired boy, dressed like a peasant, o whom he offered some silver to guide him ,o Mother Regeut's (the nurse's name was Re jent.) Delighted at the thought of the prom-' sed reward, the boy eagerly undertook the | lervice ; but he was very lame, and could not j ceep pace with the horse, so the good-natured j jailli lifted him into the saddle. Ilis wonder i tnd consternation may be imagine'd when, I ipon arriving at the cottage, he was informed | hat in his poor, little, lame guide he saw the ; jephew he had come to seek. Not another hour did Charles Maurice re-i nain beneath that roof; the bailli took the j )uy back with him to Paris. Such was the | childhood's days of the future great European j liplomatist, who was destined thereafter to i lold the destinies of France within his grasp. | From the village he was transplanted to the ' College D'Harcourt, where, all ignorant as ie was when he entered it, he soon carried ! iway the first prizes, and became ultimately I ?T?1?..? u;01 >11C 01 Its most UlSlllJglliSlieu sniuiaio. AXIO | nothcr now paid him an occasional visit, but | is she was always accompanied by a surgeon, j vho pulled, and cauterized, aud tortured the j joy's leg, her visits were more terrible than j deasing. But all the pulling, and cauteri- i sing effected no good?the lameness was in-; :u ruble. The head of the house of Talley-; rand must be a soldier?such was the tradi-; Jon of the family, and it had never yet been leparted from. A cripple could not be a sol-' Jier. It was announced to him that his birthright would be transferred to his younger brother. "Why so?" asked the boy. "Because you are a cripple," was the cruel I answer. Whatever of good might have existed in ! his original nature those words crushed out; the flavor of their bitterness lingered in his heart unto the last days of his life. From the hour in which they were spoken his disposition .111 o11T? /iVionnrpH- W hflname taciturn, cal-1 ? , I lous, and calculating; a cynic, a heartless debauchee, sparing neither man nor woman that 3tood in the path of his interest or his pleasure. Pie had not been spared, why should he 3pare others? It was not for nothing he earned thereafter the title of "diablesboiteux." + ? The American King.?The wealth and power of Mr. Cornelius Yanderbilt is assuming appalling proportions. The great consolidated railway line from the West to the Northern seaboard, which he controls, is represented on the New York Stock Exchange by sureties equal to $215,000,000, and its gross income last year was not less than $45,000,000?more than the whole income of the United States Government a few years ago. In commenting upon this fact Harper's Weekly remarks: It is impossible to contemplate this vast aggregation of money power and commercial control in the hands of one man without feeling concern for the result. Neither military nor political, nor commercial supremacy can be pushed beyond certain limits without danger. It would seem as though the limit in this case had been reached. Yet not content with the mastery of 2150 miles of railway, involving, in a large degree, the control of the internal trade of the States of Illinois, Indiana, Ohioaud New York, it is well understood that in October next, at the annual election af the Western Union Telegraph Company, pAmmnHnrp will pnfpr into possession of that great property likewise, with its sixty or seventy thousands of miles of wires, its forty millions of capital, and its eight or nine millions of revenue. When this occurs, not only ' will the commerce of the four chief States of the North be subject to Mr. Yanderbilt?un- j Jer such feeble restrictions as our Legislatures ' may impose?but the whole telegraphic cor- j respondence of the country will obey his law. | He may prescribe not only what shall be the j price of a barrel of flour in New York, but! also when, how, and at what cost citizens may 1 communicate with each other by telegraph. | Of course he will be subject to legislative control. What that will amount to we all know. In the past, no legislature in this State has ever dared to beard him. He will be a bold man, indeed, who attempts to do so now, when his resources are so unbounded and his power so far reaching. It was said that the late James Fisk, jr., who controlled a paltry 450 miles of Erie, running through a half settled country, could, on any emergency, bring 25,000 votes into the field. At bow many votes, then, must we reckon the master of 2150 miles of railway through a thickly settled country, and 75.000 miles of telegraph ? It is, moreover, one thing to pass laws, and quite another to execute them against a man fertile in resource, energetic in action, obstinate in combat, and inexhaustible in purse. 4 4 SAVED THROUGH MASONRY. We clip the following from the Portland Argus: A young Maine man, who is engaged in the "commercial traveling" business for a Chicago house, was traveling out in the far West, when he was taken possession of on the train by two men, who simply informed him that they were officers and wanted him. He expostulated, explained, demanded explanations, &c., but all in vain. No one on the train knew him, and there were those who did know the officers. All that he could get out ofthem was that he was the man they wanted. In this way he was taken some ninety miles into the interior. Upon arrival he had no longer to remain in ignorance of his supposed j offense, the whole village being out to welcome i him with such cries as "Here's the d?11 horse thief, caught at last. Let's string him up." The officers made some show of resistance, but the excited mob took possession of their I victim and marched him iuto town, near the centre of which a noose was already strung over the limb of a tree. Our friend thought it was all up with lffra sure. Expostulation was received with derision. Everybody recognised him as a notorious horse-thief, whose j depredations had been continued and exten- j sive. A horse-thief in that section is looked i upon as something worse than an average murderer. There was not a pitying eye in the crowd, and the universal howl was, "Lynch him !" He tried to pray, but the commercial traveling business had ruined him for praying! While waiting under the noose a happy thought struck him! His Masonry ! He is a Iioyal Arch Mason ! - In all that crowd there must be Masons. He gave the grand hailing signal of distress. We are not at liberty to explain how it was given, for several reasons, the chief of which ia Irnnw "Rut, ha nave it. and in an instant one of the foremost citizens of the town j 3prung to his side and gave some more MaBonic signals, and the prisoner was quickly J surrounded by twenty or thirty determined i men, who held the crowd at bay with drawn j pistols. Our friend explained to the leading 1 man who he was. They organized a committee of investigation, telegraphed to Cairo and verified all his statements, and the brutal mob slunk away heartily ashamed. Our friend was made as comfortable as possible by bis Masonic friends, but he says he never experienced such intense anxiety as he had when he stood under the noose. The Chance of Being Struck by Lightning.?'The Hartford Courant has been figuring up the chances of beiugstruck by lightning, and arrives at the following re-assuring results: "Taking the figures of the last census report for our facts, we find that during the year 1870 there were in the whole country j 202 deaths from lightning stroke. Let wo- j mankind take notice that out of these 148 of j the deaths were males, and only 54 females, i The total number of deaths from all causes j were nearly 500,000. There were 2437 deaths ! from other causes to one death from lightning, 1 and there were 190,883 persons living to eve-; ? L.'IIaJ Lt? on iioa T f \a onmotuli Q f ! l y UUC KU1CU uy LUIO IAUC^. X t IU avuivnuun , singular that the lightning was decidedly , more destructive with both males and females , betweeu the ages of ten and thirty years than j with any others. Between ten and fifteen j years is the.most fatal time, but eveu then the I number is very small. Much comfort for i those still inclined to be timorous is to be j found in going back still further on the record.! The deaths by lightning in 1870 were only , eleven more than in 1860, while the popula-, tion had increased more than 7,000,000, and the rate is declining in spite of the hasty con-! elusions formed" by reading the news of the 1 day. In 1860 there were forty-eight deaths ' by lightning out of every 100,000 deaths from all other causes; in 1870 the ratQ was only forty-two. But now, while only 202 persons: died from lightning stroke in 1870, there were 397 deaths from sunstroke, or nearly twice as 1 many. Yet the number of persons who shud-1 der when they see the sun rise wouia Dear a very small ratio to those who shudder at the rising of the thuuder cloud. The rate of deaths by sun-stroke has declined during the decade from ninety-one to eighty-one in 100,000 from all causes ; and with the increase in care and information on the subject is likely to decrease still; but it will probably always be largely in excess of the lightning rate. It is also noticeable that there wore 1345 deaths by suicide, while there were oniy 202 by lightning?an individual is six times as likely to kill himself as lightning is to kill hnn." Health and Success.?In the learned professions, a good constitution is indispensable. There is nothing else which so takes, tries, and exhausts the life-force as mental effort. Instead of beiug pale, delicate, feeble and sickly, the thinker, whether in the law-office, the pulpit, the editorial room, the countingroom, or the hall of legislation, needs to be stalwart and hardy. He should have tougher thews, and stronger sinews, and a more vigorous pulse, than the man who holds the plough or shoves the foreplane. It has been said, with not a little truth, that a small body has ? t /? comparatively small cnances 01 success; people will yield that to mere physical largeness, which they will refuse to, or at least dispute with, littleness of body and self-distrust. No matter how true the rifle or the aim, a light ball will not carry far; heavy men, like heavy bullets, do the most execution, and win the battle at long range. See Palmereton,at fourscore, still handling the helm of empire with the firm grasp.of tnirty. That the king never dies, and that Brougham never sleeps, used to be thq two leading features of English constitutional doctrine. One would think from his toughness, when almost ninety, that he was a son of old McDonald, ofKeppoch, the Scotch chieftain of whom it is told that camping out one night with his clan, he went and kicked the snow from under his son's head?which the youth had piled together so as to form a sort of pillow?declaring that "the young rascal, by his degenerate effeminacy, would bring disgrace on the clan." The life of Brougham was a perpetual series of mental feats and triumphs of the frail physique of humanity. It is told that he once worked six days on a stretch, one hundred aud forty-four hours, without sleep; then ran down from London into the country, slept from Saturday night till Monday morning, and then returned and buckled to his wort again, as fresh and elastic as ever. Is it not an immense advantage to have such a working constitution as this??to be able, if a pro fessional man, to endirre for a whole weeic a perpetual strain on your brain, and amid confinement and close air, with heaps of confused papers, law books, and books of reference to get through, to go on daily and nightly extracting therefrom liquid and transparent results, and find yourself, when you rise from your task, as elastic as a rubber ball ? Is not a lawyer doubly sure of success who, after a fortnight's laborious attention to a suit, can rise up to address a jury with all his faculties as vigorous and eager for the contest as on the first day of the term, while his waited and exhausted opponent has hardly more vitality than a bag of sand??From Prof. Matthews' " Getting on in the World." Sam Patch's Last Jump.?While in Rochester I met Mr. Hubbard, an old resident of Genesee county, who saw Sam Patch make his famous jump off Genesee Falls, thirty or forty years ago! He says that jump day was a great day in Rochester. The people gathered for miles around to see this intermittent American jumper, as he performed his last feat. Sara Patch had previously jumped over Niagara. Then, saying, "some things can be ^ ~ ~" ua oloralin^ UUiJtJ OS WC11 ao UbUCl0| iio oiwuwu havumm like Sergeant Bates, through the western part of the States to back up his proverb. Before his last jump he bought a big black bear of a circus man, and led him over the turnpike to Rochester. The morning of the day came. Sam had arrived in the town with the bear, and the crowd rushed into Rochester, from miles around. Twelve o'clock was the hour to jump?to jump a hundred feet down?down the terrible fall into the boiling caldron below. A staging had been built out over the water, and Sam appeared on the staging dressed in a sailor's fancy jacket. His friends now took up a collection on shore, while Sam swung his hat, and said, after jumping himself he would return and throw the near over. Then, amid a death-like stillness, he ran a few steps and gave one leap into the air, and fell, cutting the mist like a lead sinker, two hundred feet in the seething whirlpool. As he left the staging, his body assumed an oblique position, his head foremost, but above his feet. As he struck the water there was a dreadful silence, while the populace awaited with choking breath his reappearance. One minute? two minutes?three minutes?and no signs of the daring jumper. Then the people set up a loud wail?a long murmur of sorrow. This was the end cf Sam Patch. They say he had been drinking during the morning, and failed to keep his feet together and his body perpendicular, as on previous occasions. ?o when he struck the water, the breath left the body, and he was knocked senseless. A month or so afterward, they, found his body away down below Rochester, drifted upon the rocks. "* . + ? + Testing United States Arms.?The following account is given of how small arras are tested at the Springfield (Mass.) Armory : The gun, with its work open, is placed in a long, narrow box, which is then closely covered with heavy canvass. A quantity of sand is placed in a hopper and ground to the fineness of flour; a large fan suspended from the ceiling then blows quantities of this dust through a tube into the box which contains the gun, until every part is completely clogged. The gun is then taken out and fired with cartridges which have been made defective by a slit across the head and four deep cuts down the sides. The gun, after being fired twice, is completely filled with gas which escapes from the defective cartridges, the parts are a second, time laid open, and the gun replaced in the box and again subjected to the dust, which, mixing with the gas, forms a gum, and a half a pint of dirt is in this way forced into the gun's mechanism. If the weapon by this time can be worked at all, two more charges are fired, also with defective cartridges. In the secondary trial the gun will remain five days subjected to the rusting test, after which two charges of 150 grains of powder and 1,250 grains orlead to each charge will be fired. It is said that out of the seventy guns submitted but ten or eleven will be able to pass the secondary test successfully. , Yoke for .Oxen.?No one will dispute that the ox is sometimes misused like the horse, by being worked in a gear that does not fit him. You will find fifty horses with laceratnrl Krnactc nr tlinnlrlflrs from fL hnrd leather kVU W A VMUM y* t.UV U?\? V* k> ? v ?? ? ? collar where you will fiud oue ox with a scar i'rora a yoke. If a yoke is long enough, oxen will not waddle and haul sideways, and if the yoke and bows are made to fit the neck and shoulders, yop will seldom see them sore. A yoke should be made just. crooked enough, aud the staples just Ipug enough below the yoke to have the bows stand about perpendicular when you haul a load. The bows should be set close to the neckKso they will not play backward and bruise the . points of the shoulder, but so arranged that the yoke will rest on the top or front of the shoulder. + JfeT A loving heart and a pleasant countenance are commodities which a man should never fail to take home with him. They will best season his food and soften his pillow. It were a great thing for a man that his wife and children could truly say of him : ''He never i brought a frown of unhappiuess across his I threshold."