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New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899, April 21, 1872, Image 1

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At No. 11 Frankfort street.
g®- A SECOND EDITION, containing the latest news
from all quarters, published on SUNDAY MORNING.
The NEW YORK DISPATCH i« sold by all News
Agents in the city and suburbs a>t TEN CENTS PER
COPY. All Mail Subscriptions must be paid in advance.
Canada Subscribers must send 25 centa extra, to prepay
American poetace.
Hereafter, the terms of (Advertising in the DiBPITCH
Will be as follows:
WALKS ABOUT TOWN 30 cents per line.
BUSINESS WORLD ....20 “ “ “
SPECIAL NOTICES z 18 “ *' *‘
Under the heading of “Walks About Town” and
•’Business World” the same price will be charged for
each insertion. For Regular Advertisements and “ Spe
cial Notices,” two-thirds of the above prices will be
charted for the second insertion. Regular advertise
ments will be taken by the quarter at the rate of one dol
lar a line. Special Notices by the quarter will be charged
at the rate of one dollar end twenty-five cents per line.
Cute an&fancy display will be charged extra.
How a Wealthy Chicagoan’s Wife
and Motber-in‘Law Tried
to Defraud Him.
His Wife’s Astonishing Baby.
Two Days Old, and Sitting Up
in its Cradle.
Inhere is a case in this city which, in some respects.
’•? ' Xll rival the celebrated case of Ginx’s baby, and
Which, if worked up by a skillful romancer, would
surpass ordinary fictions while possessing the great
merit of truth. It is concerning a managing mam-
> ma, a filial daughter, who fa also a wife, a humbug*
ged husband and a suspiciously precocious baby.
Not to be prolix, we will say that four or five years
r ago there resided in the city of Chicago a young man
whom we shall call Jones, having infinitely more
taoney than gumption, and being the sola ••nd ex
clusive possessor of lands, tenements, heredita
ments, money, and all that sort of thing. Like all
he was doomed to fall in love in due course of time,
regardless of the wisdom of the proceeding. He
met his fate about three years ago in the person of a
certain Miss Smith, the fascinating daughter of a
well preserved widow of forty-five or thereabout.
For the youthful Janies to fall in love with her was
the work of only half a minute, and to offer his hand
and fortune as a sacrifice at the shrine of her mag
nificent beauty—for she was tall r,nd queenly, with
glossy black ringlets, archod brows and love-inspir
ing, deep brown eyes—required less time than trans
pired between the rising and setting of the sun.
He was referred to mamnia; but mamma could
tot think of her darling Alice getting married. She
with no one to look to for comfort and support ex
cept Alice. No; the wealthy Mr. Jones must give
* up all thoughts of her. Ho offered the widow a
handsome dower and a luxurious home as part com
pensation. At length Mrs. Smith consented to the
union on condition that she received $15,000 cash,
and should be made sole trustee and custodian of the
first child born of the ffflion, to which child should
be set off certain real estate in the city of Chicago,
amounting in the aggregate to nearly $200,000, all
tho mesne profits of which should accrue to the
Widow Smith from the date of the child’s nativity
until it attained the age of twenty-one years. In the
* event of its decease the trusteeship should terminate
©n the payment of $5,000 from Jones to the Widow
Smith, with one year in which to remove.
On this amicable arrangement the union was con
summated, and the disconsolate Widow Smith calm
ly awaited
In the Jones household. But one year passed and
then another, and no grandchild put in an appear
ance to make the expectant Mrs. Smitn happy. The
Sickle of Time was reaching deep into the third year
and the widow was forced to content herself by con
templating the.’munificent promises of her son-in
_ Jaw’s bond, got up in all the elaborate style of the
y- legal profession,-and yet the contingency seemed as
far off as ever.
Then it occurred to the wily widow to do a little
r scheming.. -She had fathomed Mr. Jones, and knew
his weakness. IHe was given to understand, in mys
terious hints, that the long looked for event, the ar
rival of the coming Jones, was only a matter of time.
Mrs. Smith, hy some process known only to
convinced him that, in view of the coming event
the*, cast ita shadow before, Mr. and Mrs, Jones
Pught to leave Chicago for the time being, and
•wait the progress of-events. The pliable Mr. Jones
consented, and on the 15th of September last, Mr.
and Mrs. Jones, with .sundry trunks and boxes, de
. barked from the Chicago train and took lodgings in
fashionablestreeLin New York.
Acting upon the advice of his mother-in-law, Mr.
Jones obtained theveiiuation of salesman in one of
ocur retail dry -goods houses, a task not at all diffi
cult, in view of the he was able to give,
(including some-of the. leading business men of Ohi
xdgo. In a few^dayaafter their arrival, Mrs. Jones
•ieformed the tandtedy that in a few weeks she ex
pected to
of York. Tide .being an unlooked-for event in
• .-quiet boardiDg-Sioucp, she was informed that the
Janus family must vacate their rooms within the en
feninF fortnight.
Kipma was conssritefijoy letter and telegraph, and
•he;edvised them to cent a house and go to house
keeping. She would immediately ship all the requi
site® dfcr furnishing fet She also advised that it
wouW.tond to keep down .the, public curiosity about
the (uiauw... of the Jones family, if, in connection with
keepixig &ouse, they wwuld keep a notion or fancy
Mb vlore, which Mrs. Jkance could preside. In due
time ttte household gooie arrived, aud were set up
F ,$n a com ter table tenement on. ope of the up-town
► a tree <s, theipotions and faacy goods were displayed,
the excited Mr. Jones was given to understand
Wl'tb whomalui had consu ted, that be might Jock for
* the ’ appearance,cf his representative at s apy time.
rTiien came great fire at Chicago, but Mr.
JOBfte fortunately escaped with only the .loss of one
©r Kao small tenements. Of course ihe-iental of (he
rest ci went up.enormously. If the/J.oneses only
had a‘baby Mra J Smith would be wealthy indeed.
Having' lost her owp little patrimony, JMrs., Smith
came to this city, about a wqeh ago.
In the meantime, as improbable as It may seem
when the sequel is peached, Mr. Jones ,firmly be
lieved thK he was soop.to be made a happy fether.
Four days,ago he went to tho store down town, as
gtsua', a»d Jones atj.d her mother wept to .call
>pon the family physician. An hour or two after
w&rd, the doctor’s carriage drew up at the Jones’
mansion; Mrs,.Cones
was lifted out to her room; her mother,
radiant -.with smiles, carried a small but animated
bundle qter the Jonts thresho’d, and a messenger
w«-s dispatched in hot haste for Ms. Jones. In twenty
minutes he s7aa at contemplating Jones, Jr.,
with breathless astonishment, white he listened to
the doctor’s story, how it.all happened at his private
office, matters taring no doubt precipitated by the
mother's excitement over the Chicago Use.
As soon as the excitement about the baby wore off,
Mr. Jones realized ©pon the suggestion of his
mother-in-law, that he Aped no longer trouble him
lelf about the Chicago property, a portion of which
would serve excellently for a hotel tod business
as it was now in her charge, and that she
take the baby home with her
»n the course of a few weeks. He was certainly far
from happy on the eecond day after the younger
Je&e’p arrival, when the astonished num rugged
into the room and informed him that the baby was
sitting up in the crib, playing with the counterpane.
An Idea struck him. He called in two neighbor
women who were experts with babies, who after due
investigation decided that although the baby was
quite small for its age it was certainly not less than
five months old. It was clear that in the exigencies
of the case the doctor and Mrs. Smith could not find
an available baby of the right age.
Now we say that a storm ensued in the Jones
household! Mr. Jones denounces the baby as a
fraud, disowns it, and is trying to get it sent to the
Home of the Destitute. But the women hold on to
it manfully and declare that the whole transaction is
bona fide. No doubt the matter will reach the
Chicago courts in due time.
Something Concerning Clair
Where the Profits of Many of
them Come From.
The Majority Professional Pro
The business of fortune-telling is overdone, like
everything else in New York. The advertisements
of clairvoyants and astrologers appear in many of
the most exclusive daily and weekly newspapers, and
they occupy, in many instances, first-class residences,
for which a liberal rent is paid. Beside dressing
richly, and living in style, the managers have a bank
account often ranging among the thousands. This
is the case of many of them ; of course there are a
small majority of the professionals who live in low
districts, and appear to be making a very poor
How so much money is made in so overcrowded
and ill-remunerative business as this pretended
science appears to be, has long been
among the uninitiated, and tended mueh toward in
creasing the mystery which surrounds the abode of
the seereues.
Occasionally one finds a place furnished in a style
very difficult to describe, it partaking of the Chinese
cabalistic and American harmony, being a consolida
tion of both, and a mixture of everything calculated
to amaze and bewilder the spectator, and prove the
truth of the statements and prophesies. These, as a
general rule, Are legitimate astrologers, and are not
usually “ropers-in” for houses of ill-fame, or confi
dence women.
The picture business is also another source of the
.clairvoyant’s income, for hundreds of persons who
have not yet sent “ thirty centa for a picture of their
future husband or wife,” will do so as long as the
advertisement appears.
At No. 159 West Forty-first street, there is situa
ted a two story brick house, neither attractive nor ele
gant; on the contrary it is in a rather shaky condi
tion, and looks as though paint and putty would
greatly improve its external and internal appearance.
In one of the basement windows is a small sign
Upon ringing the door bell, a young lady, not ex
ceedingly handsome, appears and escorts you to a
small reception room, where you await your turn to
consult the madame, but we opine that there is
never an immense crowd in waiting. After deposit
ing your outer garments, as security perhaps, you
are shown into an adjoining room furnished without
regard to taste, comfort or anything else, except
expense. Here you are met by a member of the fe
male species, of forty Summers, the Winter succeed
ing which, have materially reduced the plumpness
and beauty of the now antiquated form.
In reply to our questions, she stated that she be
lieved the business to be overdone and playing out;
in fact unless it brightened up soon, she would be
compelled to draw in ’‘her shingle.” Finding that
she was very retieent relative to the
we left fully convinced that she wasn’t a first
class “medium,” and like all poor operatives, she
found it difficult to make her profession prove profit
On nearly every cross street there are many just
like the above, but we did not find any that appeared
anything but legitimate clairvoyants until we reached
Twenty-sixth street. At No. 115, near Seventh
avenue, the occupant of the handsome three story
mansion does a rushing business. Madam was not
at home, but we were met by a vivacious young
blonde, in a very decollete dress, who ga?e us the
particulars of the business. She was young and In
nocent, (?) and we fear Madam will find her rather
too indiscreet for this peculiar branch of the busi
ness. After telling us of the
which Madam could perform, she . .lad by offering
us some love-producing powder, if we would try the
effect in her presence, which we politely declined.
Soon after we took our departure. Our informant, as
a “lady boarder,” is a grand success.
and unscrupulous member of this so-called -profes
sion is Madame M , who has a residence and of-
fice on Houston street, near First avenue. She
claims to be a seventh daughter of a seventh son,
“ born withla caul and a gift of foresight,” to hum,
bug unsuspecting people. She has quite & large
bank account, but maintains the veriest reticence
concerning her business and income. She is a vet
eran at the business, and has lately debarred gentle
men visitors from her house. Young and beautiful
girls are her especial delight, and her low charge of
fifty cents has induced many a poor girl to pay her a
visit, and under some pretext or other has sent her
to the “bad,” thus indirectly causing her ruin.
Madame is liberally patronised by benevolent keep
ers of boarding-houses, who offer indigent young la
dies “home comforts”for merely nothing.
Taking it all in all, the clairvoyant business is, in
most cases, simply a blind for enticing young girls
to ruin, and the majority would starve if they did
not make a commission on the seduction of their
visiters. Most of them are old hands st the busi
ness, and are cunning enough not to be caught; but
it is hoped that this disreputable business may in
time be swept from this great and wicked city.
How the Briny Beat Three of a
Here is something well-told and novel. It details
how a romantic California pair of runaway Ijvers
took a fancy to be married on the “ deep blue of the
mighty ocean,” regardless of the rise and fall of a
palpitating bosom tinder excitement. A steam-tug
was chartered and so was a clergyman, and so the
twain went to sea in a tug, putting the “briny” be
tween them and all parental pursuers. The San
.Francisco Chronicle gives the particulars of tying the
sailor’s knot:
From the pleasant valley of Santa Clara, Miss Mary
E. Parr had been wooed by Mr. John E. Davis. Like
Paul aud Virginia, John had stufled the gentle Mary’s
eraw with ripe grapes and crab’apples, borne her
across ths Coyote—a dangerous torrent, some inches
in depth-r-and made himself generally agreeable to
the lovely rustic, and here was the result;
O’er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
Our thoughts as boundless and our souls as free,
hummed Mr. John Davis as tho steamer cast off
from the wharf, and the blushing Mary gazed timidly
yet confidently on the smoke-stack. And they were
happy. Once, and only once, John thought he per
ceived a quiver in the neighborhood of Mary’s eye
id. He arsw (orlfc bis handkerchief whispered,
She met his gaze with a world of affection in her
swimming eye, murmuring, almost inaudibly, “ Only
a smut, my soul,” removing at the same timo the
foreign particle which had been cast from the envi
ous smoke-stack. As Goat Island was left astern,
the rolling swell of the ocean was felt. Rev. H. M.
Henderson, who was to officiate, struggled down the
hatchway to get into his toga, and the fair bride and
the gallant bridegroom stood side by side. The
grand waves trembled boisterously aud clambered
up the vessel’s sides to get a peep at the happy pair.
The clergyman re-appeared, clinging to the bul
warks, and executing a brilliant balance feat with
the Book of Common Prayer, and the runaways
joined bands.
And he stood calm and quiet, and he spoke the
fitting vows, but heard not his own words, and all
things reeled around him. Why did the bridegroom’s
cheek grow pale, and what boded that green hue on
the downy cheek of the angel who was to pledge her
troth to him? Why did the “native hue of resolu
tion” on Mr, Henderson’s lofty forehead become
“sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought ?” Was
the vision of another love looming spectre like before
tho Davis youth ? Did tho bride distrust him who
had chartered tho good steam tug Joe Redmond to
celebrate these clandestiue nuptials thereon ?
“Will you, John Davis,” said the clergyman,
solemnity, “take this woman to be your wedded
wife ?”
“I will,” faltered the groom, and hardly had tho
words escaped his lips that he was leaning over the
side of the steamer, sobbing under the influence of
the most powerful emotion and the discharge of a
load of sandwitches he had taken in before his de
parture. The bride; oh! where was she ? Her beau
tifully molded head, crowned with glowing tresses,
lay in deep despair in the lee scuppers; her sweet
lips were parted, and .she suffered deeply and
The hapless clergyman had made a pillow of the
Book of Common Prayer, and was chanting the
burial service at sea with mournful cadence, only in
terrupted by powerful and resonant spasms.
“Come!” shouted Captain White, hitching
and turning the quid of tobacco in his mouth:
“Come, my hearts of oak! Why, shiver my tim
bers and douse my tarry topligfcts I You’re all on
your beams ends. Heave up, my hearties; ’tis your
watch en deck. Heave up and get spliced! Come,
bear a hand!”
Again they stood up to the scratch, and again were
they prostrated. At last the trembling and unnerved
clergyman mode them man and wife, and the Joe
Redmond returned to the city with the lately wedded
and much seasick Mr. and Mrs. Davis.
The prediction is invented that it will take many
months among the classic vineyards of Santa Clara
before the remembrance of those lee-scuppers and
the ill-fated sandwiches are obliterated.
A Wealthy Widow Falls in Love
with a Painter.
Brief and Romantic Courtship.
Love has curious caprices occasionally. It is a
wonderful and incomprehensible essence, exhibiting
strange and odd mutations in its queer and subtle
course, and often realizing, in its development, the
ancient truism that truth is sometimes stranger
thaz^ - fiction. An illustration of what is here re
marked was witnessed at St. Paul’s Church, on last
Wednesday evening, in that quiet little suburb of
our metropolis—Harlem. The event alluded to was
the marriage of Mr. Edward Fagan, a painter, to
Mrs. I. Reid, one of the wealthiest women in Har
lem. Mrs. Reid’s early history is involved in ob
scurity. She fa said to-be of English extraction, and
has seen about forty-eight Summers. She must have
for she is still a very fresh, comely-looking lady,
with decided traces of former beauty. She is of
portly build, rather tall and dignified, with a pen
chant for .display in her personal adornment. When
about twenty, she married somebody whose name is
not generally known, but from whom, it is said, she
was divorced some few years after their union.
There was a jolly.butcher in Washington Market
at this time, named• Reid, who became acquainted
with the young and -attractive-looking lady, and this
acquaintance ripened into love and matrimony.
Reia died some years after, leaving his wife an estate
which is variously estimated to be worth from $150,-
000 to $300,000. After the demise of her second con
sort, Mrs. Reid’s .mind assumed a religious cast,
She joined the Second avenue M. E. Church, in
119th street, and became one of its most shining
The pastor of the church, a worthy young man,
and not yet encumbered with a wife, regarded the
handsome widow with an eye of something more
than friendship. In fact, rumor hath it that his
reverence anticipated
with the desirable Mae. R., and further, indeed, that
other good and hopeful bachelors had had similar
expectations. The hopes of these gentlemen, how
ever, were doomed to be blighted. Just one short
tononth ago Mrs. Reid was getting her house painted.
Mr. Patrick Martin was the person having the con
tract for the work. In his employ was a good look
ing, well built young Irishman, named Edward
Fagan. Several gushing girls in Harlem were in
love with his curly blonde hair and gay, jaunty style.
Martin sent him to Mrs. Reid’s house. The sus
ceptible widow no sooner laid her blue eyes on him
than she became smitten wifh affection for the
knight of the brush. She would follow him from
room to room, and linger with him tfie whole day
long. Fagan misinterpreted the motive of the widow
in thus keeping constantly in his company, and as
scribed it, in his own misd, to a suspicion on her
part that he was not honest, and meant to steal
something away from the house. Under this
he informed his boss Marlin one day that he would
work for Mrs. Reid no longer. Accordingly another
pointer was sent there. Mrs. Reid discovering this
ordered him away, aud sent word to Martin that
nene hut Fagan should paint her house. The gal
lant Edward returned. Mrs. Reid had concluded to
Going ic him one day as he stood in .the parlor she
gazed into’his eyes and said:
“Ed, I have something serious to broach to you.
On your answer depends my happiness or misery for
life. This is leap year, and I’m privileged to ask
you will you marry me ?”
“Too thin,” replied Edward laughing, “that joke
is played.”
“Ed, don’t laugh, I mean it, and you can .have
$50,000 if I don’t.”
Finally Ned became convinced of Mrs. Reid’s ein
cerity in the matter, and accepted the proposition.
It was then arranged that the nuptials should come
off as they did on Wednesday evening last. It was
the talk of all Harlem. Some envied and many were
thus raised from comparative poverty to "affluence
and luxury. Whenjthe eventful evening came, the
avenues leading to the church were thronged with
people. Everybody was curious to get a glimpse of
the rich widow and her By the
way, it should have been told before that Mrs. Reid
had even renounced her faith in her infatuation for
Fagan, and become a Catholic. At eight o’clock the
church was crammed with a mixed audience, whose
general levity was not a little reprehensible.
Mrs. Reid, leaning on the arm of her affianced,
passed down the centre aisle a | She was richly
ftttire& and
Fagan, dressed in black, was nervous and blushed
to the roots of his hair. The mii iitude gazed at
them without mercy. Father M Gulre was indig
nant at their disorderly behavior, and rebuked them
sharply. The nuptial ceremony was duly performed,
and the happy couple left the church and went on
their honeymoon rejoicing. Thua ended this chap
ter of romance which has stirrod Harlem to its very
Among those present were Hugh Martin and his
handsome young wife, Patrick Quirk and wife, John
J. Martin and lady, Robert Charles and wife, J. L.
Howard, Henry Macdona, Mr. John Hoany, his wife
and sister-in-law, Miss Lizzie Brady; the Misses
Carys, and a host of others.
ffl mTWrlFfice.
Three Departments and Two Bu
reaux Consolidated.
The Board of Aidermen Endowed
with Vast Powers.
The Scramble for the Places
Among Politicians.
The Parties Prominently Named.
The new charter creates a Department to be known
as the Department of Public Safety, which, in the
importance and extent of the powers conferred upon
it, transcends that of any three Departments as at
present constituted. It nearly consolidates four
large Departments—the Police, Fire, and Health, and
the Department of Buildings. Three of these are
now.under separate Boards of Commissioners, and
the fourth, that of the Department of Buildings, is
under the control of as independent head.
Section 43, of the new Charter, provides that the
Department of Public Safety shall be under the charge
of seven persons, who shall be a Board to be called
“The Board of Public Safety.” Bald Board shall con
sist of the Mayor and of six Commissioners, to be
called “Commissioners of Public Safety,’’jirhich Com
missioners shall be elected by the Board of Alder
men, in the manner hereinafter provided.
These Commissioners are to be elected at two sep
arate elections, by the Board of Aldeamen, between
the twentieth day of June and the first day of July;
they are to hold office for the term of three and six
years respectively. Their terms of office are to date
from the fifteenth of May next.
There are to be five bureaux under the control of
the Commissioners of Public Safety, constituted as
1. A Bureau of Police, the chief officer of which
shall be called “the Superintendent of Police,” and
shall receire an annual salary of seven thousand five
hundred dollars.
2. A Fire Bureau, the chief officer of which shall be
called “ theUhief Engineer of the Fire Bureau,” who
shall also be the Inspector of Fire Apparatus and
shall receive an annual salary of seven thousand five
hundred dollars.
.3. A Bureau of Health, the chief officer of which
shall be a practicing physician, and shall ba called
“ the Sanitary Superintendent,” and shall receive an
annual salary of five thousand dollars.
4. A Bureau of Buildings, the chief officer of which
shall be called “ the Superintendent of Buildings,”
and shall receive an annual salary of six thousand
5. A Bureau of Statistics, the chief officer of which
shall be called “ the Register of Records,” and shall
receive an annual salary of five thousand dollars.
The present Commissioners and the executive
heads of these bureaux are removed by the provis
ions of the Charter. There are therefore three
Boards of Commissioners and fire executive heads
The present Board of Police Commissioners con
sist of Henry Smith, President; Benjamin F. Ma
nierre, Joseph 8. Bosworth and Thomas J. Barr,
The Board of Health Commissioners consist ©f Jo
seph S. Bosworth, President, and the remaining
members of the Police Board, and the Mayor ex
officio, together with Drs. Stephen Smith and G.
Cecarini, John Mullaly, Magnus Gross and the Health
Officer of the Port.
The Board of Fire Commissioners con sits of Wil
lirm Hitchman, President; Alexander Staler, John
J. Blair and James 8. Hennessey.
The Department of Buildings is under the control
of James M. Macgregor. Superintendent.
The various executive heads are as follows: Police
—James J. Kelso, Superintendent. Health—Dr. Mo
reau Morris, City Sanitary Inspector.; Dr. Charles P.
Russell, Register of Records. Fire-AJoseph L. Per
ley, Chief Engineer; and the Inspector of Fire Ap
parstus. Bureau of Buildings—James M. Maa
All the remaining employees in the various De
partments are transferred by the operation of the
law to the naw Bureaux, at the same rates of com
pensation as they now receive, unless otherwise
fixed by the provisions of the law.
Owing to the shorrtime that will elapse before the
election for municipal officers, there is a sharp
scramble among the pcliticfans to secure nomina
tions and mako combinations to secure an election.
Under the New Charter the Mayor and Board of Ai
dermen are endowed with absolute power In the mat
ter of appointments, and until after the result ctfffhe
election is known and the complexion of the Board
determined, can evenfa fair guess be made as to who
will be likely to secure the coveted positions.
For Commissioners of Public Safety there are
several names mentioned, in addition to those now
filling the positions. Prominent among them are
Aiderman Conover, ex-Commissioner Thomas C.
Acton, ex-Superintendent Kennedy, now one of the
Deputy Tax Commissioners; Gen. Bowen, one of the
present Commissioners of Charities and Correction;
Gen. Alexander Shaler, and others on the Republi
can side. On the Democratic side their name is
legion. It is generally conceded that the majority of
the Board of Aidermen will be Democratic, and that
consequently the largest representation will be on
their side in all the Departments. One thing aeems
which so long controlled Tammany Hall, hag been
completely disintegrated, and no longer counts for
anything in the combinations to be made. The
Reform Democracy has obtained possession of Tam
many Hall, and the new General Committee is al
most entirely composed of that stripe. It is but fair
to presume, therefore, that they will carry the ma
jority of the five Senatorial Districts, although the
Republicans, thanks to the principle of cumulative
voting, can combine on any one or two candidates in
certain districts, with a reasonable prospect of car
rying them. So that there is a reasonable «eertainty
of the offices being divided up among the Reform
Democracy and the Republicans An the proportion of
two-thirds to the former and one-third to the latter.
In the distribution of offices among the Democracy
such names as ex-County Clerk Wm, c. Conner, ex-
Sheriffs John Kelly and James O’Brien, Douglas
Taylor, Oswald Ottendorfer, J. W. Ohanler, ex-M. C.,
Joseph 8. Bosworth, and others, who have been
leaders of this Reform movement.
it is more difficult to determine who stand the best
chance. For the position of Superintendent of Po
lice, should a Republican be appointed, there are
two prominent candidates—lnspector G. W. Walling,
an old and experienced officer, for nearly a quarter
of a century connected with the department, having
filled all the immediate grades up to the one he now
holds, and John J. Davenport, United States Com
missioner for the Southern District, and for some
time past counsel to the Committee of Seventy. It
is understood thftl ths Charter fa in good tis
handiwork. For Ohief Engineer, in place of Perley,
there are a number of names mentioned,, among
them those of the incumbent, Ex-Chief Engineer
Kingsland, and several of the Assistant Engineers.
For City Sanitary Inspector, there are many good
names, among them Dr. Elisha Harris, who formerly
held the position; Dr. Dalton, who also held the
place for a time, under the Board of Health, and
others. Whoever takes the position must devote his
entire time to H, and give up his private practice.
The same is true of the Register of Records, which
should also be filled by a physician.
For the position of Superintendent of Buildings,
there will be a race, as it is understood that the
pickings are something handsome. A practical en
gineer or builder must be selected for this position.
However, much of it is speculation, and, as already
stated, nothing positive can be foreshadowed until
after the Charter election.
On Tuesday night, while Barnum’s show was in
full blast at High and Longworth streets, a young,
pale-faced woman was observed to enter the tent
where the ring was, and gaze inquiringly around
her. She wore a black suit, a turban upon her head,
and long golden curls hung carelessly over her
shoulders. Her features, though quite thin, were
very beautiful and attractive. It was evident, from
the worn expression of her face, that she was in
trouble. Apparently not finding the object of her
search, she took one of the high seats, and watched
the entrance to the tent. In about a quarter of an
hour, her big, burly, broad-shouldered husband en
tered the tent with a gay and dashing woman lean
ing upon his arm. As he had told his wife that he
was going to Philadelphia, he supposed the coast
was clear, as he knew his wife never visited circuses,
she being a member of a church. The poor woman
had suspected something, and came there to find
her suspicious confirmed. . Watching an oppor
tunity, she retired without being seen by her false
husband. The scene that occurred after his return
home, the next morning, is the subject of consider
able gossip, as the parties are well known in the
city, and move in good society.
About midnight on Friday night, as Captain Wm.
J. Roberts, a well known portrait painter, was pass
ing out of the cigar store of Whiteuack & Knapp, at
No. 767 Broad street, he was seized with a fit, and
fell against the wooden image in front of the store.
The image was upset, and Mr. Roberts was precipi
tated head foremost upon an iron grating, breaking
his neck and fracturing his skull. Death was in
stantaneous. He filled the rank of Captain in the
Union army during the war, and was a man of genial
social qualities. He leaves a wife and several chil
dren to mourn his loss.
Yesterday morning, about one o’clock, Luther
Martin was arrested by Lieutenant Kirnan for steal
-g a horse and buggy. He had stolen the property
in Orange about nine o’clock on Friday evening, and
was brought to grief by the owner making a com
plaint at the station house and putting the police up
on his track. Lieut. Kirnan captured the thief and
stolen property at Erb’s livery stable, opposite the
station house. .A young man, named Edward Gor
melly, of No. 137 Canal street, who was with Martin,
was captured by Officer Danneberger, but afterward
released, as he had nothing to do with the theft.
Martin seems to have a passion for horse stealing.
Some time ago he stole a horse and buggy from
Westchester county, New York, and was saved from
the Penitentiary by his father settling the case. De
tectives P. C. Smith and Stainsby accompanied Mar
tin to a photographer yesterday, and had his picture
taken for the rogue’s gallery.
On Friday night Philip Pfeifer, a marble cutter
from New York, crawled through a back window of
a house on Belmont avenue, where his wife was stay
ing, and with a loaded revolver attempted to take
her life. The woman was in bed, and as the door
was locked the citizens were able to get the blood
thirsty wretch into the street and frustrate his evil
design. Here, pistol in hand, he stood at bay, till
Detective Fischer arrived, and with his usual bravery
disarmed the would-be assassin, and then took him
to the station-house. It seems that Pfeifer’s wife
left him about four weeks ago, and he took this mode
of revenge.
On Friday night a pretty young lady of seventeen,
on returning from a party a little before midnight,
was driven by her father’s coachman to the Market
street depot. The coachman, who is a good looking
Hibernian youth, and always goes well dressed, sent
the carriage home by a friend and accompanied the
girl into the ladies’ fitting room. While waiting for
the train that they fondly hoped would convey them
beyond the wrath of the girl’s enraged parents, her
father alighted from the train, having returned un
expectedly from Boston. The wayward miss was
compelled to return home under the parental arm.
It is said the intimacy between the pair who at
tempted this little escapade has been of some
months duration, and that “Lizzie” declares she
will “have him yet” in spite of all
A gang of burglars followed Barnum’s Circus from
New York on Tuesday, and during the night com
menced their depredations. They visited the resi
dence of Mr. J. G. Slocum, at the corner of High and
Nesbitt streets, broke open the door of the bedroom
where Mr. Slocum and his wife were sleeping, and
presenting a revolver, demanded money. Mr. Slo
cum called for assistance, and the rascals fled. One
of them, however, fired a pistol, the ball lodging in
the thigh of Mr. Slocum, inflicting a painful wound.
A man named John Gaughran, residing at No. 23
Courtlandt street, was arrested on suspicion, and a
letter from a New York thief, now in the Tombs,
was found on his person. No evidence, however,
connects him with the Slocum affair. He has been
held to answer a charge of breaking into the Orange
horse-car depot during the same night.
A beautiful maiden, “ all forlorn,” has been ar
rested for “milking a cow with crumpled horn,”
which was not her property. Fair Emily, for that is
her name, lives on the outskirts of the city, and has
been in the habit of arising with the dawn to milk
her neighbor’s lowing kine.
Officer Boylan shot a mad dog yesterday morning,
at Adams and Market streets.
Mr- Frank Potter has become sole proprietor of
the evening Courier.,
The Board of Chosen Freeholders of Essex county
have passed a resolution authorizing the Jail Com
mittee to erect a new penitentiary.
The Newark Scheutzen Society will participate in
the opening Bcheutzenfeet, at Mount Pleasant Park,
on Monday, May 27ch. The Jersey Scheutzen Corps,
the Scheutzen Corps of old Hudson City, Hoboken,
Greenville, Carlstadt, New York, Brooklyn, and
other places, will also be present.
The strike of the morocco “beam” has just ended,
the employers having acceded to the demands of the
men, by raising their pay to sls per week.
Funeral Flattery. —A correspond
ent of ths Evangelist protests against what he
calls the practice of “funeral flattery.” He
writes: Let me record also an earnest protest
against the practice of singing at the funeral
of a man without religion, hymns appropriate
only for the godiy. To hear “ How blest the
righteous when ho dies,” or “ Why should we
start and fear to die,” or “Thou art gone to
the grave, but we will not deplore thee,” sung
over the remains of men who in their lifetime
were very free from piety, is unacceptable to ;
devout ears, beoouse highly inappropriate. i
And yet this is often witnessed at funerals, and
it tends to efface in men’s minds all distinction i
between the righteous and the wicked, between 1
him that serveth God and him that serveth
not. Who has not heard “Thou art gone to ’
the grave ” sung at the graves of men of whom i
all that could be said was that they seemed
somewhat solemn just before they died, and <
detired to have a nainitter pray with them ? 1
author or “lady danverb,” “the cottage
Dngald, is it true ?” came, dry and parched
like desert sand, from Margerie Nairn’s white
lips, as she entered her cousin’s chamber,
where he was still imprisoned by the utter
prostration of muscular power, that had been
consequent on his severe and dangerou. ill
" What does my sweet cousin mean ?” said
the young man, soothingly. “Dear Margerie,
command yourself, or even I shall be un
manned by your grief. I have heard tidings
that are enough to shake me to the very cen
tre, but it is not for such a bright young life
as yours to be thus clouded by mere public dis
“It is scarcely that which has chased away
all the blood from your soft cheeks, little
“Dugald, he is in prison—he will die!”
gasped Margerie, “ Oh, what can be done to
save him ?”
Fortunately for the young girl's composure,
’ Dugald’s feelings were sufficiently in unison
, with hers to comprehend the not very intelli
, gible personal pronoun that figured in her agi
tated words.
Lord Nairn was too much of a lover himself
’ not to understand that “he” and “him” of a
1 damsel in Margerie’s state of mind could only
; imply one person.
And he did not harass her by requiring the
name of the unfortunate individual to whom
she alluded.
1 “Alas! dear girl, I fear very little can be
• done, especially by such questionable charac
i ters as ourselves,” he replied. “It is tolerably
, well-known that had it not been for the physi
, cal impossibility of moving, I should have
been with the defeated army, and sharing at
' this moment their fate.”
"Dugald, he must—he shall be saved,” re-
■ plied the girl, resolutely, drawing her child fig
ure up with almost ludicrous dignity.
“ Heaven grant it. Madge ; but I fear in your
case, the wish is father to the thought,” re
-1 turned her consin, sadly. “Poor Norman, I
l almost envy him the glory of his fate. It is
far better io die in such a cause than to be lying
. here like a lame dog,” he added, rather impa
, tiently.
But for once Margerie did not appear even
■ to hear her cousin’s melancholy plami.
She stood, absorbed in her own sad reverie,
and her young face wore an expression of mi
. tore thought that utterly changed its style of
“Dugald,” she said, at length, “I am going
to him. He has no wife, or mother, or sister
■ to console him. I shall bo admitted, shall I
. not?”
“ My dear child—impossible,” exclaimed Du
gald. "My mother would never forgive such
1 an indiscretion, and even the world would cen
sure a step which you are too young to esti-
■ mate as it deserves. If I could but leave this
l couch,” he added, impatiently, " but I am lit
erally bound like a useless log.”
“ Dear Dugald, please do not argue with me,
' for I would not willingly oppose any wish of
■ yours,” she said, in the same child-like tone.
I "But I cannot help it; I could not rest while he
. was destitute and forsaken, with death before
him. "Let people say what they like,” she
added, impatiently. “What can it signify m
1 comparison with the self-reproach I should feel
1 at every thought of him—aye—till my dying day
■ it would haunt me, Dugald. Let me go, if you
really care for mo—if you ever feit friendship
J for Ndrman in your early days.”
“But how—in what way could you manage it,
Madge?” asked Lord Nairn, relentingly.
“ The governor of tho prison is Sir John
: Ray, a near relative of my mother. He can
f not refuse me, and I will take Jessie with me.
She will be old and staid enough for six such
giddy damsels,” added Margerie, with a wan
s smile. “I am not mad, Dugald ; I have thought
r it all, till I am almost as matured as Jessie
- herself, only I came to you lost you should be
l frightened. -<‘-
I “ Tell my aunt that I shall return if she will
receive me after such a crime. If not, it ffifct
' ters little what becomes of such a stray waif
1 as the orphan Margerie. Farewell, dear cousin ;
9 do not let my aunt rthink too harshly of me.”
s And hastily kissing his thin cheek, she left
the room, in spite of his repeated calls of—
“ Madge, wild child, come back—at least
wait till some proper escort can be arranged.”
, Perhaps his remonstrances were rather io
save his own conscience, than in hopes of
* effecting any change in his young cousin’s re
! In his heart, he honored the brave, unselfish
t romance of the young creature, whose life had
» been hitherto so sedulously guarded from even
. the smallest risk that could befall a peeping
, forth from the protecting guardian’s wing.
. It was like the first flight of a tiny bird from
the nest, with the chance of death and insult
' from ths hardened denizens of the feathered
> world.
" Strange,” he reflected, “ that such angels'
as Isaline Falkland and my sweet Madge
should be neglected and ignored for a heartless
coquette 1
’ “Perhaps, even now, she is triumphing in
her own freedom, angling for a more expedient
captive than the ill-fated adherents of a noble
cause, and forgeting the danger and the agony
1 of those whom she has wooed by her smiles
■ from truer loves.
“ Well, well, God is over all; and it may
[ have been to save from peril and bereavement
that He permitted such blindness to the
“ Isaline—lsaline ; methinks I could with
calmness see thee belonging to one worthy of
i thee, and exult in devoting my heart to one so
worthy of the gift.”
And, for the moment, his thoughts wan
dered from his young cousin to the distant
spot where Isaline Falkland was, perhaps, suf
fering deeper, if less openly displayed torture,
than the child-like Margery, in this miserable
Norman, Duke of Perth, was moodily sitting
on one of tho few and uneasy chairs of his
Scottish prison, scarcely conscious of either
sights or sounds passing around him.
He possessed one of the light, facile natures
that are peculiarly susceptible of outward and
passing events, and buoyant or desponding
according to the joy or sorrow that befalls
them in this changeful life.
All was lost now.' So he felt in that con
tracted and cheerless prison, and his sickly
fancy figured to itself every possible misery
that could be in store for him.
The scaffold ; the desertion of her he loved ;
the cutting short of his young and prosperous
life; the execration that would load his mem
ory in future years—all passed in exaggerated
images before his mind, as he passed hour
after hour alone and, as ho believed, forgotten
by all, save the silent jailer, who brought him
all the scant comforts that were allowed to the
treasonable adherents of the “ Pretender ” by
the irate government.
And when, at length, the door opened, he
scarcely looked up, in the sullen indifference
to all such interruptions to his monotonous
But there was a sort of silence, when the
door had closed, very different from the heavy
step that belonged to the bony Scotchman who
was his attendant; and, raising his eyes with
half cynical curiosity, he saw a voung and tinv
figure standing half sheltered by the more
portly and extensive person of an elderly and
hard-featured woman, who stood, like a Span
ish duenna, in rigid and halt-disapproving
He sprang up, with a lightning-like start,
yet to the keen eyes of the young creature
whose glance was timidly turned upon him,
there appeared a momentary disappointment
which Margerie interpreted but too well. ’
“Norman,”she said, advancing toward him
with a swset, feminine modesty in her every
feature and look, “Dugald has sent me to offer
yon every aid that we can give you in this
“Alas, he is too 111 to leave the house him
self 1” she added; “but I may not be quite
helpless, if you will tell me what to do.” ,
Something in her manner impressed the 1
young duke with a vague and unreasonable i
annoyance. ,
He would fain have seen more of the girlish i
devotion which he believed ho could command i
from her ; less of the, sister-iike composure
which was scarcely natural to tho- impulsive
“You are giving mo help and comfort fat
coming to me, dear Margerie,” he said, taking
her hand, and pressing it in both his with cm
phatic warmth ere she drew it from his grasp.
“And it is what I could not expect—did not
deserve.” I
“ Hush 1” she said ; “do not talk so foolishs
ly, Norman. The old friend of my dear consin,
and companion of my own childhood, has sure
ly a right to expect such poor interest and help
as we can give.” I
“And only in that character, Margerie ?” hdj
said, as the deaf old attendant placed herselt
in a distant corner of the room. “Have you
no kinder and wanner feeling for mo than
childish regard and claims of friendship? Hav3
I offended past forgiveness ?”
“Not so,” she said, sweetly, “or I should
not be here. There can be no offense in the
free choice of tho heart, Norman. But you will
vex me—insult me—by alluding to tho pas|
again, as you did when wo parted.
“I ought not, I will not listen to such words
again. It is treason to Lady Katrine, and de
grading to mo.”
He shook his bead sadly.
“ God knows that I would rather cut out my
tongue than say one syllable that would wound
your purity, Margerie 1
“ Yet it surely may be permitted, after out
long and early companionship, for mo to cling
to such memories ; to ask for the consolation
that the certainty of your former affection, tha
idea, that were this infatuated passion lor that
brilliant syren and its consequences over, you
could then have pardoned the infidelity and
believed in my tru.h.”
“No, dear Norman, no,” she said, sweetly ;
“ I will tell you the whole truth, though it is
perhaps not maidenly to ba so frank. But I
■ feel as if it were all different now,” she added,
glancing round the gloomy apartment. “ I
, did—that is—l was cut to the quick, though
not surprised, to see your love for Lady Ka
trine, after tho foolish child dream I had inv
“Now I could not, dare not, ever think Of
you again, save as a dear, dear friend, whom I
would sacrifice everything to make happy.
“ And I came here to-day, Norman, to ask
1 for your directions, which I will carry out to
the very letter, through any danger or diffi-.
“Shall I goto Zier, Norman, and then, pet
-1 haps, we can influence others whom she knows
to obtain your pardon. You shall not die, if
woman’s prayers can avail to save your life and
restore you to happiness, and liberty, and her,
1 Norman.”
The young man listened in an incomprehen
’ sible mingling of pique, and sorrow, and newly
kindled admiration for that unselfish, devoted
girl, so brave and self-controlled, aud yet so
1 soft and simple in her transparent affection.
Had he not been a blind fool to throw away
such a pure gem for tho flashing brilliancy of
more sparkling jewels ?
i Was it indeed true?
Had ho lost hor trust forever ?
“ There is no time to spare,” she returned, at
he gazed abstractedly on her agonizing face.
“Sir John only allowed me ha!f-an-hour, and
you have not given me any directions yet.
1 Please think quickly, Norman, or it will be of
' no use. And lifeds at stake every minute,” she
added, hurriedly.
The words recalled him to himself.
• “Margerie, you shame me, you crush me to
i the very duet,” ho said, sadly. “But I may
■ yet prove that lam not all unworthy of you,
and life is sweet, even to the captive.
i "Listen. Take this ring to Katrine. She is
now at tho Gray Friars, Lady Isaline Falk
land’s mansion. Tell her, from me, to confide
, in you as she would in a sister, and share with
1 you any plans for my safety that she can sug-
■ gest.
> “The Leslies have great influence with the
> Duke of Cumberland. One of his ado-dc-camps
> is of that family, and, if I mistake not, Lady
i Katrine has other interest at the Hanoverian
I court, if she has the will and tho courage to
r use it.
i “It is strange,” he added, sadly, “ that Nor-
> man of Perth should be reduced to the good
offices and the activity of ■ a young aud timid
, girl for any intercession on hie behalf. But, in
such a general crash, each thinks of himself,
i and kicks off any log that may sink the ves-
■ sei.”
“ Trust me, Norman,” said Margerie, rising
i from,the stool she had occupied during the in
-1 terview. “Dugald is leal and true, and he will
t arrange everything for my safety, though bo
i can only act for you by such a poor deputy,”
3 she added, with a faint smile that was more sad
than tears.
1 “Keep up heart; God will not forget you,
■ whaiev® IKS S'SrliT'ESy
f And, calmly extending her hand with an air
; of dignity that awed Norman from any further
’ demonstration, she left the prison.
t No one could have guessed the pain it had
cost the young and hitherto untried girl to sub-
- due that first warm and early love for hor
’ brother’s friend.
> And it was not conquered yet.
f No, it was warm and deep and tender as
• ever, and no sacrifice would be too severe for
him who still reigned supreme in her young
i heart.
I But the trust and the confidence, and the un
i suspecting ardor of that child-like passion had
[ vanished forever.
The idol still stood on its pedestal, but Mar
i gerie knew now that the shrine was of too purs
t gold for the alloy that mingled with the image
I it contained.
, And the discovery brought a sharper pang, a
i more enduring sadness than the first jealous
pain of Katrine's victory over the love that had
i once been her own.
It was strange, too, how this gradually deep
i ening conviction matured the child into the
i woman.
i Margerie Nairn, as she slowly took her way
’ back to her aunt’s house, arranging with
I thoughtful deliberation tho means of carrying
out her lover’s behests, was three years older
’ in mind and feeling than the Margerie who,
i three short months before, had sobbed out her
i helpless grief at her cousin’s danger, on lea
line’s bosom.
And, ere she entered Dugald’s apartment,
1 her plans wore tolerably matured and only
i waited for his sanction aud help for their suc
cessful carrying out.
Bo true it is, that only in the presence of
great and extraordinary emergencies, dormant
qualities of courage and decision wake up in
the character where they have .hitherto slept
unsuspected even by their possessor.
Isaline had stopped with a sudden terror, as
if her progress was arrested by a caunon-ball,
as that abrupt, sharp demand for their names
and purpose rang on her stunned senses, and
a vague fear of treachery paralyzed her ener
gies as she shrank back behind Laurette’s shel
tering draperies.
But the girl pushed her forward with her
half reproving whisper :
“Take care, or you will ruin all.”
“Who are we?’ said the soubrette pertly,
with a coquettish toes of her head. “ Why, we
are young damsels who do not expect rude
treatment from folks who ought to be very
much obliged to us for leaving our comlortable
beds to make your watch a little more lively,
Sir Sentinel. However, we need not trouble
you. There are others who will treat us bet
ter, I don’t doubt.”
“Don’t be so hasty, my pretty wench,” re
turned the man, catching a glimpse of Lau
retta’s bright eyes, as she just lifted the hood,
which well-nigh enveloped her head, and it
might be also perceiving a promising jingle of
glass under the ample skirts of the midnight
wanderer. “Don’t -you see, a fellow must do
his duty in these times, and how do I know
that you are not going to the rebel lord you’ve
got concealed in some hole or other, mv clever
maiden?” “
Laurette pressed Isaline’s foot with hers in
token of silence, as she replied, with a bewitch
ing laugh: -a-.
“ Well, if I’m clever it’s more than yon are,
to ever think of such nonsense. Why, I’d take
my oath on tho four Gospels, before the arch
bishop himself, that I know no more where the
young lord ia than you do; and, ‘’more, by
token, I don’t oven remember ever setting eyeg
on him in my life. But never mind, Jessie,
we’ll just go back with what we’ve got," she
said, turning to her trembling companion, and
giving a significant tap to the basket ghe bit}
under her cloak. -s’
“Not so fast, not so fast," said the man, re
lentingly. " You’re so sharp on a fellow, mis
tress. Of course, I’m not going to disbelieve
any pretty young woman, to say nothing of
her oath. It’s cold enough here, I must say,
and our captain’s terribly sharp on us wheij
we’re m a house like this. We didn’t get too
much, I must say, at our suppers, considering
the night was before us.” 5“
“I dare ray not, Xqu tee, Lady
NO. 25

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