New York dispatch. [volume], February 08, 1885, Image 1

About New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899

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PUBUW BY 1 J. WILLIAMSON’S 801.
VOL. XL.—NO. 17.
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HIE.4HIC REMINISCENCES.
A MAN OF WEIGHT.
Mv.seiim of Boston—Mr. Charles Tliay-
Prospects of a Lambert-Stet
*jfon’s Fat Friend—Tiie Advice of
Sam Colville—Edwin Booth’s
Remedy — The College of
Physicians—The Read
ing of the Diagnosis*
BY JOHN CARBOY.
* I met Mr. Charles H. Thayerxm Monday evening
* last, in the lobby of the Fifth Avenne Theatre.
Mr. Thayer is one of the managers of the iweseht
‘ Edwin Booth campaign.
Mr. Thayer is also the representative of Mr. R. M.
Field, the proprietor of the Boston Moseum. It
»;■• must be understood by the general reader,whomay
not be acquainted with the social and artistic re Na
tions which Boston holds to the rest of the world,
» that this Museum is not a Dime Museum.
It is in reality a theatre. It has a stage, a bor
••« office and deadhead privileges. Upon its sacred
boards no Daniel Bandmann is permitted to hurl
Hamlet in fragments at the peaceable cndlaw-Abid
ing audiences which frequent it season after
son.
No such American Irving as Alvin Joslin Davis is
ever permitted to flash his paste brilliants in the
glare of the footlights and brass band the public
into a condition of intermittent paralysis.
You might as well deprive Boston -of its -haked
beans as take from it its-museum. lit is ancient of
days. lam not sure that its origin ante-dateE- that
of Bunker Hill Monument, but I aaa quite sure it is
far more venerable in years than Ben. Shillaber.
I fancy that it was a flourishing temple *cf his
trionic art when William Warren, the apostle of • its
comedy and the worshipped of generations of Its
patrons was a little cherub boy angling with a pin
hook for catfish in the placid waters of the Wissa
hicon. In fact I have a weird strepieion that the
museum was the first house of worship erected on
the soil of the old Bay State, and that Boston merely
j. grew up around it.
There are other places of amusement there, but
they are merely common everyday theatres, such
as are seen in any ordinary city or town.
THE BOSTON .MUSEUM IS CONSERVATIVE.
Its company is solidly conservative. To iV the
traditions of the past are savory and refreshing.
Through all the mutations of time and* the passing
. generations of men, from the period of its penny
dips and whale oil wing lights, its era-of cocked-hat
and knee-breeched town-conbtable as itsdoorkeeper
and chief duster of the wax figures, it has been as
conservative as a codfish.
Mr, Thayer has the smooth, calm, and unruffled
countenance, the solid, large expanse, of physical
proportions, which are the necessary attributes .of a
well-regulated attache of the Only Museum.
As the representative of Mr. R. M. Field, the
manager, he is here in a double trust. With the
additional responsibilities thus forced ijpon him
has, come also a cause of great mental perturba
tion.
It would be unjust to place the members of the
Museum.company in the category of ••‘Freaks.” It
does not necessarily follow, because they are the
chief .attractions of the Museum platform,, and are
the accepted exponents of dramatic -art.according
to Boston formulas, that they are to be . regarded
as curiosities on exhibition.
I makOitbis explanation in order that the vocation
of Mr. .Field, the proprietor of the
and Mr. Thayer, his representative, may
not be misunderstood.
And now .for the source of Mr. Thay-er’c .mental
perturbation.
It is the visible indication that he is rapidly be
coming too obese for personal comfort in ordinary
locomotion, and that, if it is not checked., the vast
increase oLadipose tissue in a very brief period will
bring him face, to face with the horrors of apoplexy.
Or, if not that—and there should be no surcease
in this growth—would he not be compelled, as the
only possible .business in which he could embark
devoid of any demand for physical exertion, to be
come the star.i'at man of the Dime Museums ?
He called tn an eminent spiritualist physician,
direct from Boston, who was thinner than the
shadow of Sarah Bernhardt.
This medical, expert, after a careful diagnosis of
his patient, gawOi his opinion.
“ Get back beans, hot biscuit and minoe
pie for breakfast ajjd supper. Since you’ve come on
here you’ve rioted in luxury—beefsteak, Hoffman
House lunches and Brunswick wines.”
Thayer at once ordered a relay of Boston baked
beans and the trisamings. But it only increased
s his weight, adding,>4w4y, ounces of solid flesh to his
srame.
He tried vinegar— <rzent in to the Banting process
—in vain. He wrote.# pathetic appeal to Fanny
. Davenport, asking Let :t.o b scnd him her recipe for
r reducing avoirdupois.
“Eat radishes, pickleg, drink sour mash, and
walk ten miles a day at.a brisk pace. If the weather
Should be stormy, get a •&sxn#tist to read two or
tbr.ee-cf his plays to you.’”
He.tried her plan. He guided five pounds in two
weeks.
At a rehearsal of “ The Apostete” last week, to
the purprise of everybody, Mr. Booth happened to
be present on the stage, and was really, through
some strange freak, and contrary to his usual cus
tom, the business. Thayer noticed that
THE TRAGEDIAN WAS IM A .PARTICULARLY
HAPPY MGOD.
There was actually a smile—or least a very
,good imitation of that special phase of facial ex
pression—hovering about the comears.of his mouth.
heavily, and the boards creaking under his tread,.
he.moyed from one of the entranees dowfi to the
prompter’s table, rs the big property ship of the
Old Bowery used around the stage.
S^r.-Booth,” begap Thayer.
The teagedian looked up. •' Pelion upon .Ossa I
what is ,tl4« ?” he exclaimed, as he surveyed the
great bplk wfcich came fcc a pause in front of him.
“It's.only mo,” said Thayer, “I’m sorry to inter
rupt you, but I—l—wanted to ask your advioe.”
And then with tee natural,timidity of a museum
attache he explained his condition, and in conclu
sion said, “Jf yo.u2 CQiild tell what will decrease
my—my ”
“Stomach !” growled the tragedian sepulchrally.
Why, hang it man, yours is a bad There’s at
M twenty pounds of clear fat in oy<ery sound of
your voice.”
“ Oh, don’t say that—don't. What can I do to be
savedF*
“ I’ll tell you,” and as he spoke Booth arose and
drew his heavy gray ulster around him, '■ Get the
gjsj>ej>sja ; swallow a pint of essence of Jamaica gin-
get afterttssh meal, and then go on and play Othello
os Riohelteu. If that don’t eventually so thin you
•Otit ofoiistence, that there won’t be enough left of
you tdbury, it’ll convert you into a very handsome
livifig ’skeleton. Now, then, everybody for the last
act.”
'l’hayer moved slowly up tb® stage. He felt that
he doomed.SHu felt that wherever he went he -
' ; W&s either an object of pity, cr the point of a joke.
At the Broadway front of the theatre he caught
■Flight of Sam Colville and JcJtn Duff‘blocking up the
great double doorway—a»d turned pale ahd trem
bled like a balloon inflated with jelly—when he
heard Colville say to hit'companion—••lf I 'was as
stout as Thayer, I’d let myself out for a Hellgate
buoy.”
He leaned up against the 'Wall for support, and
wiped the oily perspiration from bls brdw/as Duff
answered: •• What a 1 dead ‘head he’dmtiko, eh? ’
Half an hour later he
WANDERED ALSELESSLY INTO THE BROWER
HOUSE.
There he mdtStetson,'Who had just returned from
one of his wild and weird visits to Boston.
♦•Hello Stetson”—said Thayer mournfully.
Stetson glared at him and turned toward the bar.
Again Tha'yor addressed him and moved up closer.
Stetson looked At him from Cop to toe, then
: glanced Anquiringly'at the cashier behind the cigar
■case, and leaning ©ver asked im a gruff whisper—
overy word of which fell Upon Thayer’s hearing like
i a lump’Of lead—”l say, who is your fat friend, eh ?
Ought’tO'put him out as a sign to catch regular
boarders—who is he anyhow ?’•
Desperately 'as his weight permitted, Thayer
crowded ; up'to the edge'of the bar and said: ••See
here, Stetson,'don’t you know me. You know we
used to run together-in Boston last season. Cer
tainly you haven’t forgotten me, eh ?”
•John braced around and looked him square in the
face.
■•• Never saw you before in thb whole course of my
life. Who in h-*-ll are you—got a name ?”
■•• Wby; dear me, T*m Thayer—Charley Thayer !* ’
••Great Gilsey I”—Stetson always uses this form
■of exclamation when he is stricken with a spasm ol
i -astonishment. ' ” Great jumpin’ Gilsey I Fou
Thayer. Oh no, you can’t play that on me. I know
'Charley too well for that. Presently you’ll be tell
ing me you’re Dave Bidwell or Jim Connelly. It
won’t work.”
•• But.-l say, see here ”
•’Oh,jI see enough. Yoti’re a little off up here,”
said Stetson tapping his forehead significantly and
then' turning to the bar-keeper : “Poor fellow, how
he’s swelled; this delirious*dropsy’s a hard thing
when it gets its grip onto a fellow. His friends
ought to taka-him in and tap him. It’s awful.”
•'And supposing he should happen to burst!”
chimed in the cashier in a pitying tone.
Thayer tried to smile, but’ the effort was vain.
•• See here—l say, John—l am Thayer—l ”
'»Don’t. It won't work for a cent,” growled Stet
son, as he poured out his fluid from one of the black
bottles. “I saw Charley Thayer only two weeks
ago, and he weighed only two hundred and five
pounds. And here’s a four hundred pound moun
tain of meat trying to pass himself on me ! Great
•Gilsey ! don’t bother me I”
THAT SETTLED IT.
The acting manager of the Boston Museum com
pany wandered out, his soul filled with despair.
• •• Has it come to this-at last? Everybody is
against me; nobody knows me any more. And
every day I’m a pound heavier. The less I eat, the
bigger I become. Have I the dropsy ? Is it possi
ble that lam only a moving water-tank ? By Jove,
I’ll draw six weeks’ salary in advance, and have a
consultation of half the doctors in town.”
He perspired into the theatre. There in the old
up-stairs managerial office he met Maze Edwards
and Tom McWaters.
••Maze,” he murmured, •*l’ve just met Stetson,
and he- swore I wasn’t myself—that I was only a
peripatetic case of dropsy.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised if Stetson was right.
Why don’t you see a physician, and find out what
is the matter ? Keep on this way, and you’ll have to
bo moved about on a hand truck and slid into a bed
on a skid,’’ put in Tom McWaters.
“Who is a good doctor?” murmured Thayer in a
funereal tone.
•* I’d advise you,” said McWaters,” to get Drs.
Frank Hamilton and A. B. Sands, and let them
call in two others who could, nominate five others of
the leadipg physicians of. the city and have a regu
lar clinic—d’ye see ?”
Thayer did see. Next day he was
FACE TO, FACE WITH TEN DISTINGUISHED
MEDICAL EXPERTS,
in the consultation room of the College of Physi
cians and Surgeons.
The examination of his case lasted four hours.
Then he was suffered to depart in peace, with
the promise that they would on the following morn
ing send him their decision as to. his condition and
what course of treatment would be necessary to al
leviate his agony.
The next morning came.
And with it, at eleven o’clock,, the decision. It
occupied dour hundred page sheets of type writer
manuscript, foolscap size.
One page .for every pound of his weight.
Since he had. noticed and become alarmed at his
constant and inexplicable increase of size he had
weighed, himself from three to six times a day on a
Fairbanks scale.
Atone timait was suggested to him by Schroeder,
Stetson’s manager here, to carry one-of the patent
spiral balances with him, so that he could at any
moment attach its hook to his coat collar and the
ring to the crossbar of the nearest lamppost, and
weigh himself-without the delay consequent, upon
searching for the Fairbanks article.
With trembling hands he opened the bulky roll
of paper in which the medical wisdom of the city
had recorded bis, doom.
He was sitting on the edge of one of the office
chairs—be could;,not get any further upon, thaseat,
and several of the chairs had broken. ;dow.n ..with
, him—and with hipi were Edwards, Schroeder, Mc-
Waters, and two or three of the theatre officials.
“ Here, Mao—read it—l cannot,” said the coming
Lambert, huskily.
Tom opened the portentous pile, laid it out on
the table, and began the reading.
Divested of all its technical expressions atd medi
cal terms, and reduced to plain and homely English,
one page of foolscap would have easily contained
the entire story.
The diagnosis was this :
First, as to the .cause of his tremendous growth.
It was not change of. climate; amount or quality of
food he had eaten.
The cause was : He had thought himself fat. His
was one of the rare cases where his imagination
had gained so thorough a mastery over his digestive
functions, that they converted hie thoughts into
adipose tissue. In point ,of fact, his stomach had
been for mouths digesting his mind.
In the end, should the process continue, the re
sult would be—the entire.consumption of his men
. tality—a sudden collapse, and funeral expenses.
The cure. And here I quote the physician’s pro
posed treatment as read by McWaters. from their
manuscript.
♦’After a consultation with several theatrical peo
ple, notably Frank Murtha, McKee Rankin, and
John A. Stevens, who have been afflicted with an
accumulation of adipose tissue of more or less
weight, we recommend that the patient, Mr.
Thayer, c#n effectually reduce his weight to #ny
deeired minimum by the same process.
•’ Let him become the lessee and manager of the
New Park Theatre, the Cosmopolitan, the Third
Avenue, or the A&unt Morris Theatres.
“In two months if he isn't so thinned out phys
ically, mentally, and .financially, that he will be os
diaphonous in all hum&D regard as a speck of dust,
we will agree to eat ou?as?3 heads.
“ And he will be healthy? JThere won’t be enough
left of him, for any ill that huX an flesb is heif to,
to work on.
“In witness whereof we herewith our signa
tures.”
NEW YORK, SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1885.
WITTY DOCTORS.
Dr. Mounsey and Watrick—Doctors who
were Witty, Divot, Coarse and In
dependent—The Great Aber
nethy and Curran.
B Y C EI.T A LOGAN.
In the last century England was never without
her celebrated, witty and eccentric physician. In
the present day We hear nothing of the brusque
ness, humor, and, indeed, little of the wonderful
skill that distinguished her medical men in and
prior to the eighteenth century.
Mounsey Was Garrick’s doctor, and sharp and
keen was the encounter of their wits, until one day
they quarreled. Lord Bath made an attempt to
reconcile'th ©two old friends.
“I thank you,” said Mounsey, “but why will
your lordship trouble yourself with the squabbles
of a merry Andrew and a quack doctor?”
In conversation with a farrier one day, Mounsey
remarked that among the difficulties of his profes
sion Aras that of discovering the maladies of chil
dren, because they could not explain the symptoms
of their disease.
“/Your difficulties are not greater than mine,” re
plied the farrier, “ for my patients, the horses, are
equally unable to explain their complaints.”
“Ah,” said Mounsey, “my brother doctor mirst
conquer me, as he has brought his cavalry against
my infantry.
Mounsey was a strong Unitarian. He was once
■conversing upon religion with a Mr. Robinson, who
oaid:
“ Why, doctor, I frequently meet people who be
lieve there is no God !”
“And I,” replied the doctor, “often talk with
people who believe there are three !”
TAKE AWAY THE RAGAMUFFINS.
Garrick seems always to have had a physician in
ordinary, and after his quarrel with Mounsey called
in a certain Dr. Thompson to attend him.
Thompson was remarkable for the slovenliness of
his dress, and his aversion to muffins. He and Gar
rick were one morning breakfasting with Lord Mal
comb when a plate of muffins were set upon the
table. Thompson shouted to the waiter, “Take
away the muffins.”
Garriek jumped up, seized the plate and looking
menacingly at the dirty doctor, said:
“No, no; take away the rag— a muffins!”
HE DROPS INTO POETRY.
The famous doctor, Sir John Hill, flourished in
London in 1716. He wrote several farces which were
severely handled by the critics of the day, and gave
rise to this epigram:
” For physic and farces «
His equal there scaree is;
His farces are physic.
His physic a farce ia.”
Sir John made a great deal of money by the sale
of a patent medicine, the principal ingredients of
which were sage and honey, which is hit'off in the
following lines:
•• The writer on snuff, valerian and sage.
The greatest impostor and quack of his age,
The punishment ordered for all such sad crimes,
Is to take his own physic and read his own
rhymes.”
THREE EXCELLENT PHYSICIANS.
Dumoulin was the most celebrated physician in
France in his day. He was very avaricious. On oue
occasion, together with a doctor bardjy less famous
than himself, he was paying a visit to a man of
high rank who died on their hands. The sudden
death being quite unexpected, occasioned great ex
citement, especially among the retainers of the
nobleman, who surrounded, and even threatened
the two doctors. His associate,
alarmed, inquired of Dumouliu, “By what door
shall we escape ?”
Dumoulin, who had no fear, save of losing his
money, replied:
“By the door where they pay.”
On his death-bed Dumoulin said to'the three doc
tors who were attending him, ” Gentlemen, I leave
behind me three excellent physicians”—each of
the doctors considered himself one of them, but
Dumoulin disappointed them by adding, •• They
are water, exercise, and diet.”
A ROUGH; DOCTOR.
Sir Richard Jebb was one of the physicians of
George 111. He made himself unpopular by the
roughness of bis manners and his curt speeches.
So greatly prized were hie services, however, that
few ventured to retort, but upon one occasion he
was rebuked by a patient for his rudeness. He
curtly replied, “Sir, it is my way.”
“Then,” replied the patient, pointing to the
door, “I beg yon will make that your way.”
In those days people indulged in epitaphs that
did not spare the failings of the deceased. The fol
lowing was written for Sir Richard’s epitaph;
“Here, caught in deathless webb,
Lies the great Doctor Jebb,
Who got gold dust just like Astiey Cooper.
Did you speak about diet,
He would kick up a riot.
And swear like a madman or trooper,
“When he wanted your money,
Like sugar or honey,
Sir Richard looked happy and placid,
Having once touched the cash.
He was testy and rash.
And his honey was turned to an acid.”
DR. JOHN LETTSOM.
Dr. John Lottsom was a West Indian who made a
great name in Ldndon in the latter part of the
eighteenth century. He lived until 1815. During
his lifetime he made a merciless war upon the
quacks then abounding in the English metropolis.
In revenge Sbme of them penned the following
quibs:
•‘When any sick to me apply,
I physics, bleeds and sweats ’em.
If, after that, they choose to die,
What’s that to me ?—J. Lettsom.
Another:
‘•Such swarms of patients do to me apply—
Did I not practice, some would surely die.
’Tis true, I purge some, bleed some, sweat some.
Admit I expedite a few—still many call
J. Lettsome.
OUT OF THE DECANTER,
Dr. George Cheyne was the author of a work of
great authority, entitled “The English Malady,”
which would appear to have been the bottle, for the
English were remarkably free-livers in 1700, intem
perance being the vice of the age. Among Cheyne’s
patients at Bath was Beau Nash, who, being asked
one day by the doctor if he had taken his last pre
scription, replied :
“ If I had, doctor, I should certainly have broken
my neck, lor I threw it out of a two pair of stairs
window.”
A lady called upon Cheyne to cure her of a red
nose.
“Why, where, doctor,” she asked, “could I have
got such a nose as this ?”
“Out of the decanter, madam,” he answered.
Dr. John Arbuthnot was Queen Anne’s favorite
physician and the friend of Swift and Pope. He
was so subservient to the great, that when once the
Queen asked him what the time was, he replied
bowing to the ground :
“Whatever it may please your Majesty.”
DRS. RADCLIFFE AND CASE.
Radcliffe was physician to Queen Mary in 1694.
He was so much in advance of his time that when he
was sent to attend her when seized with small-pox,
he exclaimed, on being shown the prescriptions of
the court physician. “ She is a dead woman
His blunt reply to the King is well-known. His
Majesty was. afflicted with dropsy and showed Dr.
Radcliffe his swollen ankles, asking “What do you
think of these ?”
He replied, “ Why, truly, I would not have your
Majesty’s two legs for your three kingdoms.”
Dr. Case, a celebrated quack, was a contemporary
of Radcliffe, and they were boon companions.
When dining together one day Radcliffe said, “ Here
Brother Case, I drink to all the fools, your patients.”
“ Thank you,” said Case, “let me have all the
fools,.and you are welcome to the rest.” This was
:the quack who is said to have received more for the
following distich placed over his door, than Drvden
did for all his poetry: v u
•‘ Within this place,
Lives Doctor Case.”
He affixed this couplet to all his pill-boxes:
•‘ Here’s fourteen pills for thirteen pence, enough
for any man’s own conscience.”
INDEPENDENT DOCTOR,
But the name of John Abernethy stands above all
other medical men for brusequerie and oddity. He
had two peculiarities—the first was his admiration
for brevity—the second, his presistent statement
that all diseases of the human frame arise from
disorder of the stomach—consequently he was
much pestered by patients for dietetic rules. A
lady once insisted on his tolling her what she should
eat. He said, “you may eat anything but the
poker and bellows, for the one is too hard of diges
tion, and the other too full of wind.”
He asked a woman who one day called upon him:
“ What’s the matter with you ?” In perfect silence
she held up her arm which was ulcerated. He pre
scribed, and in silence she offered affee, which he
refused and told her to call again. At her next
visit the same pantomime was repeated. When the
arm was cured, the patient again held out a fee. He
refused it, saying:
“ No, madam—from you I will take nothing, for
you are the most sensible woman I ever saw; you
don't talk.”
Abernethy was very independent, and rich and
poor, prince aud peasant, were treated alike in his
consulting-room. One day a nobleman called to
consult him, and while in the waiting-room was
amazed and indignant that one after another who
had arrived before him were admitted to the doctor.
The nobleman sent in card after card, of which no
notice was takefl. When at last his turn came he
was full of wrath, and inquired of Abernethy wby
lip had fcepp kept waiting so long;
art Urttprttiif.
“ Because you did not come sooner,” coolly re
plied the Doctor.
The then Duke of York once called to consult
him, and was much offended that while he was in
the room Abernethy stood with his hands in his
pockets, whistling.
” I suppose,” said the duke, indignantly, ” yon
know who I am ?”
“Suppose I do—what then? Let me tell your
Highness of York, that if you wish to be well, you
must do as the Duke of Wellington did in his cam
paign-cut off the supplies, and the enemy will
quickly leave the citadel.”
A lady who went to consult him about her arm,
must have been astonished at his reply.
“ Oh, doctor!” she said, “ whenever I lift up my
arm it pains me so.”
“ What a fool you are, then, to lift it up.”
Curran being personally unknown to Abernethy,
visited him several times without being given the
opportunity of fully explaining the nature of his
malady, and when again interrupted by the doctor
in his description, he exclaimed:
“Mr. Abernethy, I have been here on eight differ
ent days and I have paid you eight different
but you have never yet listened to the symptoms of
my disease. Now lam resolved, sir, not to leave
this room until you satisfy me by doing so.”
Struck by this, Abernethy threw himself into a
chair and said, with the air of a martyr: “Oh, very
well, sir. I am ready to hear you out. Go on—go
on; give me the whole of it—your birth, parentage,
and education!”
•'My name,” said Curran, in nowise disconcerted,
“is John Philpot Currau. My parents were poor
but honest people of the province of Munster,where
alsb I was burn—being a native of Newmarket,
County of Cork ” and so on, until ho had given
the eccentric surgeon a most amwsing account of
his birth, parentage, and education, as desired, un
til he came to the recital of his cr.fl'orinus. Aberne
thy listened in amused silence, and from that hour
to the close of his life was most assiduous in his at
tentions to the gifted Curran. Except where the
stomach was concerned, the two illustrious men
were congenial spirits. When on his death-bed, the
doctor called one morning and said to Curran that
“he seemed to cough with more difficulty.” The
dying man replied: “That is surprising, as I have
been practising all night.”
“PoorCurrau’s sufferings,” says Pc'.tigrew, one
of bis biographers, “ sprang from his irregularities
— and shortly before his death I ventured upon a
gentle remonstrance as to his course. Curran re
plied. “ old Mr. Pettigrew, there is a great pleasure
in getting drunk. If it were not lor three things, I
would be drunk every night of my life.” “And
what may these three things be ?” inquired Petti
grew. “Why sir, in the first place,* the Bin—that I
know would not operate very powerfully with my
friend—in the second place the shame”—that was
not likely very much to deter him, “*and in the
third, the sickness I”
a gigmlwlßle.
Charles Francis Adams, Jr.,
Fifteen Years Ago and Now.
The Shrewd Manipulations of T.
C. Durant and Others.
WORKING THE CONGRESSIONAL LOBBY.
The Fraud Credit Mobilier of
America.
JAY GOULD GETS IN HIS FINE WORK.
•‘A CHAPTER OF PACIFIC.”
Nearly fifteen years ago,when that bright student
of political economy who has since gained for him
self the title of an eminent authority in railroad
matters, Charles Francis Adams, Jr., of Boston, was
writing his “ Chapter of Erie,” he foretold a con
dition of corporate monopoly in this country which
would yet grasp the purse-strings of the Govern
ment and dare to say to its Congress, as Gould and
Fisk said to the Legislature and the Judges of this
State, in the case of Erie, “ Our will must be done.”
|low many people are there to-day, either in or out
of Wall street, who realize the full force of the fact
that such a condition of things has already existed
in the relations of the National Government with
the Union Pacific Railroad ? How many are there
who appreciate the fact that Charles Francis
Adams, Jr., is to-day posing before the Congress of
the United States in the character of President of
that corporation as a supplicant for Congressional
favors ?—the friend and co-director, elected by the
influence of Jay Gould—the man of whom he
wrote, fifteen years ago: “ There is a reminiscence of
the spider in his nature. He spins huge webs in
corners and in the dark, which are seldom
strong enough to resist a serious strain at the crit
ical moment. His disposition to this subtlety and
elaboration of intrigue was irresistible. It is scarce
ly necessary to say that he had not a conception of a
moral principle.”
To tell the story of how this condition of things
was brought about, involves the crowding of a good
deal of
PARTLY HIDDEN HISTORY
into a very small space; indeed, the unwritten his
tory of the Union Pacific monopoly would fill vol
umes. It is necessary to remember that the. road
was chartered by Congress at a time when the su
premaify of the Federal Government was threat
ened, and when it was feared that the time might
come when great difficulty would be encountered
in extending aid to or procuring it from the loyal
Pacific States. To preclude the possibility of this,
the road was chartered by Congress in 1863, with an
authorized capital of $100,000,000. The shares at
this time were SI,OOO each (they have since been re
duced to $100), and, regarding subscriptions, the
language of the act was peculiar, aud is of the
greatest importance in connection with what fol
lows. It provided that “ books of subscription to
the capital stock shall be opened, and kept open,
until the full amount of $100,000,000 shall be sub
scribed, no subscription to the stock to be valid
unless the subscriber therefor pay or remit to the
treasurer of the company an amount per share
equal to the amount per share previously paid by
the then existing stockholders.”
It also provided that the stockholders should be
assessed at a rate of not less than five dollars per
share, and at interest not exceeding six months
from and after its passage, “ until the par value of
all shares subscribed shall be fully paid; and money
only shall be receivable for any such assessment, or
its equivalent (checks) for any portion of the capital
stock hereinbefore authorized.”
The Government, as has been said, realized fully
how important the road might prove in its indirect
bearings upon the life of the republic (for all of
which possible service, by the way, it was afterward
provided, it should receive full and ample consider
ation), consented to aid its construction by extend
ing the use of its own credit, and made the company
a grant of its six per cent, bonds at a specified rate per
mile, the whole issue amounting to $27,226,512, to be
secured by a first mortgage on the road. At the re
quest of the corporation, these bonds were afterward
made subordinate, byway of lien, to a like amount
of its own bonds. In addition to this almost price
less assistance, the company was made the recipi*
ent of a land grant exceeding in extent 12,000,000
acres. And right here, it may be as well to again
FROM MR. CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS’S
“ Chapter of Erie:” The State of New York had been
described as lying prone and helpless, enslaved by
the New York Central and Erie, “ Vanderbilt, em
bodying the autocratic power of Ciesarism, intro
duced into corporate life the Erie Ring, representing
the combination of a corporation and the hired pro
letariat of a great city. Up to that time only in New
York has any intimation been given of what the
future may have in store for us should those great
powers become mere tools in the hands of ambitious
and reckless men. The system of corporate life, as
applied to industrial development, is yet in its in
fancy. It always tends to development, always to
consolidation; it is ever grasping new powers, or
insidiously exercising covert influence. Even now
the system threatens the General Government. In
a few years more we shall see corporations as much
exceeding the Erie and the New York Central, both
in ability and will for corruption, as they will ex
ceed these roads in wealth and in length of iron
track. We shall see these great corporations span
ning the continent from ocean to ocean. Now, their
power is in its infancy; in a very few years they will
re-enact in a larger theatre, and on a grander scale,
with every feature magnified, the scenes which
were lately witnessed on the narrow scale of a single
State.”
But little was known of the history of the con
struction and operation of the Union Pacjfic road
until about 1870. Then whispers began to spread
abroad that the power of the Government
subordinated by the operations of that road dhd an
other corporation—the Credit Mobilier of America—
the same persons being directors and stock*holders
in both.
On January 6, 1872, the House of Representatives
appointed a committee to make inquiries in rela
tion to the affairs of both companies. This com
mittee, afterward known as the Wilson committee,
consisted of Jeremiah M. Wilson, of Indiana; Sam
uel Shellabarger, of Ohio; George F. Hoar, of Massa
chusetts; H. W. Slocum, of New York and Thomas
Swan, of Maryland. The very elaborate report
which it made was not presented until February 20,
1873.
That report called attention to the fact that a sub
scription of $ 2,000.000 and the payment thereon
was a condition precedent to the organization of the
company. The sum of $218,000 was paid in, and
the company organized in October, 1863, by the elec
tion of a Board of Directors. The
FIRST CONTACT FOR CONSTRUCTION
was made with H. M. Hoxie, a person of little or
no pecuniary responsibility, who, after it had been
accepted by the company, agreed to assign it to
Thomas C. Durant, the then Vice-President of the
Union Pacific. This agreement was made on Sep
tember 30, 1864. On October 4 following the con
tract was extended so that it called for the building
of 246 miles of road, Hoxie agreeing to furnish the
money on the securities of the company and to sub
scribe for $1,000,000 of the capital stock, he to re
ceive $50,000 per mile of work. On October 11 the
contract was assigned to Messrs. Durant, Bushnell,
Lombard, and McComb, all of whom were directors
of the company.
Thus was put in motion one of the most monu
mental frauds ever described. As the committee
reported to the House: "The Hoxie contract and its
assignment were a device by which the persons who
were the active managers and controllers of the
Union Pacific Railroad Company, caused said corpo
ration to make a contract with themselves for the
construction of a portion of its road, by which they
got possession of dll the resources mhich it would- be enti
tled to by the completion of said portion, and by which
they evaded, or sought to evade, the requirement
that the capital stock should be fully paid in in
money, by substituting for such payments a fictitious
or nominal payment in road-buildings and equip
ment, each share being treated as worth much less
than its par value. That in making this contract
the interests of the Union Pacific Railroad Company
were utterly disregarded, your committee do not
doubt. That it was deliberately done they do not
hesitate to believe.”
This delightful quartette, although bold enough
for almost anything, were not sufficiently barefaced
to do their stealing openly; that would leave too
much personal liability. They followed the prov
erb, "Seek and ye shall find,” and discovered what
they were after in the shape of the' 'Pennsylvania Fis
cal Agency,” a corporation chartered by the Legisla
ture of that State in 1859, with power to do practically
anything it pleased. On March 3, 1864, twenty pur
chased this outfit, body and soul, and on the 26th of
the same month the name Was changed, by special
enactment, to the
" CREDIT MOBILIER OF AMERICA.”
The purchase had been make with the under
standing that an "agency” was to be established
in this city, to which full powers of the Board of
Directors were to be delegated. The capital, which
had been increased from $2,000,000 to $3,750,000 was
immediately subscribed by the gentlemen in con
trol of the Union Pacificjand the concern brought to
New York. The next move was for the "Credit
Mobilier,” as a corporation, to purchase the out
standing stock of the Union Pacific, amounting to
$2,180,000, par value, paying for the same the
amount which had previously been paid into the
treasury of the railroad, $218,000. To again quote
from the Wilson Committee’s report. "By this
process the stockholders of the two corporations
were made identical. By these means, the persons
who, under the guise ot a corporation that was to
take the contract to build the road held complete
control of the corporation for which the road was
to be built. These things accomplished, they took
charge of construction under the Hoxie contract
and that portion of the road lying between Omaha
and the 100th meridian was constructed under it.
"This contract cost the Union Pacific
C0mpany512,974,416
" It cost the Credit Mobilier 7,806,184
Profits 5,168,232
" The profit is in bonds and stock estimated at
par.”
Durant next found a man who rejoiced in the
name of Boomer, and made a contract with him for
the construction of 153 miles, at an average cost of
about $19,500 per mile, not including bridges,
station buildings, or equipment. It was never
ratified, but about fifty-eight miles mere built
under it at a cost, including stations, bridges and
equipment, of about $27,500 per mile. Out of pure
charity, which always begins at home, it was after
ward noted to include this fifty-eight miles in the
Credit Mobilier contract at $50,000 per mile, giving
that concern a profit of $1,345,000, without any con
sideration, on construction, with which it had
nothing whatever to do. In August, 1867, the
famous " Oakes Ames contract ” was entered into,
covering 667 miles, which were to be paid for in
different sections from $42,000 to $96,000 per mile,
the whole making a total of $47,915,000, the under
• standing being that Mr. Ames was simply the
medium through which the profits should reach tbe
shareholders of the Credit Mobilier. It was signed
on behalf of the railroad by Oliver Ames, his
1 brother and business partner, and approved by
Ames, Bushnell, Harbaugh and Durant, all of whom,
with the exception of Harbaugh were interested in
the Credit Mobilier. This contract was assigned to
seven trustees, whose names are entitled to, and
now occupy, a place in history. They w-ere Thomas
' C. Durant, Oliver Ames, John B. Alley, Sidney
Dillon, C. S. Bushweif, H. S. McComb and Benjamin
E. Bates. All seven were directors of the Union
Pacific, and all were interested In the Credit
Mobilier. The contract extended over 138 miles of
road, which had already been completed at a
cost of about $27,500 per mile, and accepted
by the government from which, say the com
mittee, these trustees *• derived a profit, if such a
term is admissible in such a connection, which
enabled them to make a dividend within sixty days
after the assignment, viz., on December 12, 1867, as
follows: Sixty per cent, in first mortgage bonds,of tbe
Union Pacific Railroad Company, $2,244,000; 60 per
cent, in the stock of the Union Pacific,” $2,244,000,
which was mainly, if not entirely, derived from the
excess of the contract price over the actual cost.
The construction was then proceeded with under
the Ames contract, and, as appeared by the books,
the profit upon it was $29,854,1411 The final con
tract was fnade with one J. W. Davis, assigned in
the same form, and yielded what, for the sake of
politeness, is called " a profit ” in Congressional re
portfl, but what a common thief would call
••A BOODLE”
of $7,802,634. The following is an official summary
of the cost of the road to the railroad and to tbe
contractors:
COST TO RAILROAD COMPANY.
Hoxie c0ntract512,974,416
Ames " 57,140,103
Davis “ 23,431,768
T0ta1593,546,287
COST TO CONTRACTORS.
Hoxie contracts 7,806,183
Ames " 27,281.142
Davis •* 15,629,633
$50,720,958
Pr0fit542,825,329
Add profit on 58 miles 1,104,000
Total profit of constructions43,929,32B
The annual report of the company for 1870 made
immediately after the completion of the road, gave
the liabilities, stock and bonds, as follows;
Share capita 1536,765,000
First mortgage bonds 27,237,000
Government subsidy bonds 27,236,512
Land grant bonds 10,000,000
Income bonds 1(>000,000
Cost of r0ad5111,238,512
Excess of liabilities over cost 50,720,958
Profits of constructions6o,sl7,ss4
All here shown above the cost of tbe road " was
pure plunder in some form,” say the committee.
” Not a dollar of income or land grant bonds was
needed for the construction of the road. Not a dol
lar of the share capital of the company was legally
issued, the oi)ly amount paid into tbe treasury of
the company on account of the same being $218,000
on 2,180 shares subscribed as condition precedent to
the orgenization of the company by the choice of
directors.” Simply and plainly speaking, the road
cost $50,000,000, and that was wholly covered by
the sale of the government bonds and the first
mortgages. While all this was going on, Durant &
Co. were not idle at Washington. G. M. Dodge was
paid $24,500 for procuring the passage of the act of
March 3, 1873, relating to government transporta
tion. Other sums were paid to various people for
various purposes, for t instance $50,000 to Gov. John
A. Dix as a-purchase by the railroad of its own
stock; $25,000 to a government commissioner to se
cure the acceptance of a certain portion of the road,
and $435,754.21 designated in the books as " sus
pense account,” was shown by the evidence to have
been allowed to T. C. Durant, Vice-President, to bo
disbursed in connection with the passage of the
amendatory act of 1864.
This so-called "suspense account” was approved
■September 11th, 1867, by Oliver Ames and John J.
Cisco, and the amounts therein contained charged
to construction. Attention should be called to the
fact that these amounts were paid
BEFORE A SOLITARY NAIL WAS DRIVEN
in the road, Durant personally superintending the
lobby which was working for the road. It should
also be borne in mind that the government, under
the charter, reserved to itself certain rights, such
as the regulation of rates, which were rendered abso
lutely nugatory by the acts of those .in control of
the corporation and who, as stated, squandered its
substance in procuring such legislation as would be
favorable to big profits.
Everybody familiar with the Congressional pro
ceedings of the time remembers what followed the
presentation of the report of the Wilson Committee.
The fact was made known to the House that Oakes
Ames, one of its members at the time, had been en
gaged in bribing the members by offering them
Credit Mobilier stock at par. Another committee
was appointed with Luke P. Poland, of Vermont, at
its head, which collected a vast amount of evidence.
As to the guilt of Ames there could be no question.
Measures hostile to the company had been intro
duced by Mr. Washburn, of Wisconsin, and Mr.
Washburn, of Illinois, which were described as the
" Washburn move” in a letter written by Ames to
H. 8. McComb on January 30th, 1868. In this letter
he says:
••I don't fear investigation here. What some of
Durant’s friends may do in New York courts can’t be
counted upon with any certainty. * * * * Wo
allow Durant to place $58,000 to some three or four
of his friends, or keep it himself. I have used this
where it wiR produce the most good to us, I think.
In view of King’s letter and Washburn's move here,
Igo in for making our bond dividend in full. We can
do it with perfect safety. * * * * The contract
calls for the division and I say have it."
The committee recommended that Mr. Ames be
expelled from Congress, but the members were
averse to going to extremes and contented them
selves With hifl being solemnly censured by tho
OFFICE, NO. 11 FRANKFORT BT.
speaker at the bar of the House. This, then, was
the end of official inquiry into the methods by
which the Union Pacific, although conceived and
born in good faith, fell into the hands of plunderers,
whose only motive was greed, and who, in their
avarice, were not content to sacrifice innocent vic
tims, but endeavored, by every means in their
power, to debauch a government which, in its hour
of need, had helped them with its credit for over
$27,000,000 and a gift of 12,000,000 acres of land.
THE SUBSCRIPTION BOOKS
had never been opened to the public, as the charter
required, and this fact led to a very interesting
event in the history of the company. Fisk and
Gould, who knew what was going on, watched the
operations of the Credit Mobilier with jealous eyes,
and the former, flushed with money, the result of
his Erie deals, decided to take a bold step and have
at least one finger in the Union Pacific pie.
On September 21, 1867, he tendered a subscription
to 20,000 shares of the stock, and money to the
amount of $55 per share, which he claimed was all
that others had paid for their holdings. Strangely
enough this was the first offer that had ever been
made to subscribe to the capital stock of the com
pany and pay its full value in cash. As may readily
be conceived, however, the Credit Mobilier wanted
neither Fisk's presence or his money. They could
procure more than enough of tbe latter on the first
mortgage bonds, and they wanted all the Union
Pacific stock themselves—naturally enough, since
they paid nothing for it. Therefore his offer was
refused. This Fisk had hardly expected, and be
called upon his friend and tool, Judge Barnard, for
an order compelling the production of the subscrip
tion books or, in case of a second refusal, for an or
der to open the safes of the company by tbe use of
powder or steel. This order, which of course was
granted, formed a part of the testimony in the im
peachment trial of Judge Bernard when the Presi
dent of the Union Pacific testified that it caused the
company a loss of $4,000,000. Unlike Fisk (who in
reality bad all tbe equities of the case on his side)
the Union Pacific had no New York judges whom it
could command, and as an attack was being made
upon its vaults, it sought safety in flight and
thenceforth made its residence in Boston.
It would be tedious to many to follow the history
of the company through all the mazes of litigation,
success, defeat and the intricacies of finance which
make up the rest of its history; for, although the
report of the Wilson Committee was accompanied
by a bill which became a law, and which was de.
signed expressly to prevent any further Credit Mo
bilier experiences, the tenets of those who built it
have never been forgotten in its management. It
has openly defied the act of 1873, just mentioned,
which, were its provisions carried out, would con
sign every one of its directors during the past few
years to imprisonment and fine, and make every
stockholder of the company liable to it for the divi
dends he has received upon its stock.
In 1875 it made a proposition to the government
looking to tbe ultimate settlement of the latter's
claim against it on the subsidy lands. In his com
munication the then president of the road, calling
attention to the fact that under
A DECISION OF THE UNITED STATES CIRCUIT
COURT,
neither the principle nor interest of tbe mortgage
could be collected until it became due. This was in
consequence of the act of 1873 having been declared
unconstitutional, in that it directed the withold
ing of all the government debt for transportation
instead of only one-half the amount, as provided in
the act of 1864. It was shown that the debt at ma
turity, about 1898, would amount, principal and in
terest, to about $77,000,000. This, the president
curtly told tbe government, it would probably be
unable to collect, except upon the assumption that
it would advance the money to pay off the prior
mortgage and then run the road on government ac
count. Then he proceeded to formulate a plan by
which the company should pay the government
about $18,800,000, or $8,000,000 less than the face of
• the bonds (the government having already paid
$8,740,642 for interest upon them), and the debt
against the road be discharged. This is a fair sam
ple of all the road dealings with the power which
gave it life.
All this was changed, however, by the Thurman
Act, passed in 1878, which, by properly amending
, the Act of 1864, was entirely constitutional. It pro
vided for the payment to the Treasury of the United
States of a sum equal to 25 per cent, of the net earn
ings of all the susidized lines, and under it the com
pany is liable for the whole sum, principal and in
terest, at the maturity of the bonds, deducting, of
course, the amounts already paid in. How it shall
pay it is a question now before Congress, which wfll
be acted upon in some form at this session. This
digression is necessary to explain the relation be
tween the Act of 1873 and that of 1878, which has
formed tho subject of years of litigation.
Shortly after the above proposition was made the
company began to pay dividends upon its stock,
and has continued them ever since, until at tho end
of 1883 they ammounted to a total sum of $27,000 -
000.
The Act of 1873, so frequently mentioned, has so
much bearing upon the rest of the story that the
production here of one of its provisions is excusa
ble. It provided, among other things, that:
“No dividend shall hereafter be made by said
company, but upon the actual net earnings thereof;
and no new stock shall be issued or mortgages or
pledges made on the properfy or future earnings of
the company without leave of Congress, except for the
purpose of funding and securing debts now exist
ing or the renewals thereof. No director or officer
of said road shall hereafter be interested directly or
indirectly in any contract therewith, except for his
lawful compensation as such officer. Any director
or officer who shall pay or aid in paying or declaring
any dividend or creating any mortgage or pledge
prohibited by this Act shall be punished by impris
onment not exceeding two years and by a fine not
exceeding $5,000.”
Now, the position will be beat understood when it
is stated that there is not a single sentence in this
section of the Act which has not
BEEN REPEATEDLY VIOLATED.
About the time the Act was passed the stock of
the company declined to something like fifteen cents
on the dollar. It had been completely gutted by the
Credit Mobilier, and must have gone into bank
ruptcy were it not for the aid extended it by a few
men of large moans. And right here Jay Gould,
Fisk’s alter ego in the transaction previously men
tioned, comes upon the scene. He bought or bor
rowed enough stock to give him a majority of the
proxies at the next annual meeting, March 10, 1874,
and elected a board of directors of his own selec
tion, of whom he was one. Since that time the com
pany has known no law but his. He it was who
compelled the declaration of dividends in 1875 so
that he could get out of his stock at a profit, and
which was for the company, probably, a fatal step.
In its then demoralized condition, and with its pre
vious plunderers out of power, Congress would have
been disposed to deal leniently with it, and had an
appeal been made in proper shape, satisfactory ar
rangements could doubtless have been made for the
liquidation of its great debt. But Mr. Gould had
other designs on the company after getting out of
the stock, for which he paid probably an average of
25, in the neighborhood of 75 or 80. He had, in 1875,
become a member of the Board of Directors of the’
Kansas Pacific road, which had been, since 1873, and
remained until 1879, in the hands of receivers, and
his more distant object was the union of these two,
and, perhaps, some other corporations. The con
solidation was completed on June 24, 1880, when the
Union* Pacific, Kansas Pacific and Denver Pacific
roads were joined under one head.
And now mark the adroitness of the Union Pa
cific’s new manager. That company had originally
been chartered as the Union Pacific Railroad Com
pany. When the consolidation was made, the name
was changed to the Union Pacific Railway Com
pany, tho promoters hoping by this transparent
fraud to escape further interference from the gov
ernment through the appointment of directors by
the President of tho United States, and in various
other ways,
The aggregate capital stock of tho new company
was fixed at $50,762,300, that being the aggregate
capital of tho three companies. Union Pacific $36,-
762,300; Kansas Pacific $10,000,000, and Denver Pa
cific $4,000,000. When the Union Pacific stock
holders assented to the consolidation, they did not
know perhaps, the load they were taking upon them
selves, nor that the chief promoters of the scheme
were making a profit out of the various conversions,
variously estimated at from $15,000,000 to $20,000,
000. On its face the consolidation was a direct vio
lation of the law quoted above; the issue of $10,000,-
000 of new stock since was another; the bond is
sues known as the collateral trusts of 1879 and 1883,
were each violations; the guaranteeing of the in
terest on the bonds of the Oregon Short Line an
other, simply because each separate act created
something which became a charge upon the future
net earnings of the company.
A PART OF ITS RUINOUS POLICY
has beeq to buy up everything it could lay hands
on in the shape of branch or tributary lines. Why ?
Simply because its supremecy as a giant monopoly
was threatened, or because tho insiders or their
friends were interested in the branches. These it
calls " feeders,” but they have been more aptly de
scribed as " suckers.” The company has in its
treasury a total of over .$61,000,000, of the bonds
and stocks of these branches, and out of the whole
lot it only got $2,066,682 in 1883, which is described
in its reports as " income from investments.” On
the other hand, on June 30 last, its advances to these
roads amounted to $7,387,095.
As has been stated, Mr. Charles Francis Adams
Jr., is now at the head of the company as its presi
dent, elected to that office through the kindly in
fluence of the man of whom he said, " he had not a
conception of a moral principle.” The days of its
monopoly and power to charge extortionate rates
for transportation are passed, and Mr. Adams is very
solitous regarding the measure now before Con
gress known as the sixty-year funding bill, which, in
brief, provides that the company shall pay its debt
to the government in 120 semi-annual payments.
He is very solicitous too that dividends shall not be
prohibited, because he says that would destroy the
investment value of the stock, and then it would
tend irresistibly toward the hands of wall street
sharpers. Mr. Adams has recently written a letter
to Mr. Colgate Hoyt one of the Government direc
tors of the Union Pacific, in which ho says, speak- 1
ing of a plan for the settlement of the government
debt which was mentioned by Jay Gould to him in
1878: "I do not hesitate to say that, in my 1
opinion, it was the most beneficent, the most
business-like, and tbe most financially sound of all
the plans to meet the obligations of tho govern
ment which have yet been suggested,”
PRICE FIVE CENTS.
NO BABY IN THE HOUSE.
BY CLARA G. DOLLIVER.
Sb baby in the house, I know—
'Tis far too nice and clean;
No toys by careless fingers strewn,
Upon the floor are seen;
No finger marks are on tho panes,
No scratches on the chairs;
No wooden men set up in rowfl
Or marshaled off in pairs;
No little stockings to be darnod,
All ragged at the toes;
No pile of mending to be done,
Made up of baby clothes;
No little troubles to be soothed,
No little hands to fold;
No growing fingers to be washed,
No stories to be told;
No tender kisses to be given;
No nicknames —" Dave,” "Mouse”;
No merry frolics after tea—
No baby in the house I
‘‘To Love and Honor,’* 6
BY A FAVORITE AUTHOR,
' CHAPTER I.
A FACE OF MANY BECKETS.”
It is a fair, still evening in June; the sun,
dying gloriously in the Western sky, kisses the
tall trees that shelter one side of an old-fash
ioned suburban garden, and, lingering long
over that benignant farewell, filters down a
golden glory through their thick branches, and
upon the earnest faces of a young couple who
stand in close conference at the low green gate.
The man is a slender, foreign-looking young
follow, In a brown velvet jacket and soft felt
hat, a costume that suits and sets off the pic.
tnresque beauty of the dark, eager face, with
' its mellow depths of coloring ; the girl is very
young, not more than sixteen, tall and slender
' —too slender at present—with features of
statuesque regularity, a milk-white skin, pale
golden hair, and eyes of a warm velvety golden
brown.
But her eyes are down-drooped now, and the
man who stretches eagerly across the gate and
tries in vain to make them meet hie impas
sioned glance can only see the pretty crescent
that the curled black lashes make upon the
pink-tinged cheek ; and, though he fails in his
endeavor, he thrills with a secret delicious tri-
■ umph. The beautiful eyes have hitherto looked
out upon the world, and even upon him, with a
gaze only too childishly frank and fearless ; he
has taught them the sudden shyness and
■ strange, sweet trouble of to-day.
I “It is good-by, then, Mademoiselle Cree
sida ?” he says, a faint accent of reproach mar
ring the liquid sweetness of his words.
“ Good-by, Monsieur St. Just I”
The girl’s voice trembles slightly over the sen
fence; she does not lift her eyes yet, bnt stands
’ with linked hands and beqt-down golden head,
a pretty picture of shy indecision in a shabby
old gray dress and knotted muslin kerchief.
The man leaps the gate, lightly cTisps the .
two trembling hands within his own, and auda
ciously kisses the soft, blushing cheek.
“ Not that, at least,” he says imperatively;
“if good-by at all, it shall be ‘Good-bye, Isi
dore !’ Try it, sweet; the sentence is not hard,
believe me.”
The color deepens till the fair face, nock and
ears are one deep glow ; the dark brilliant eyes
are uplifted in mingled reproach and appeal, .
as the girl whispers desperately :
“Oh. I cannot 1 Oh, do let me go in, Monsieur •
St. Just—it is wrong and dreadful, and, oh,what
will Miss Smerdon say ?”
There is no doubting the genuineness of Cres
sida Leigh’s dismay; but its cause only laughs
and shrugs his shoulders.
“She would say, my sweetest, that Isadora
was no more dreadful a person than Monsieur
St. Just; that both were forbidden fruit for you.
But, for us, we concern ourselves not at all with
what that too severe teacher of tbe young may
say. You will say ‘ Isidore,’ if you love me—if
you would send me from you happy and con
tent.”
A brief struggle with herself—a quick look,
up the winding path and over the grass plot,
athwart which the evening shadows are begin
ning to fall—then Cressida speaks the required
words.
“ Good-by, Isidore,” and once again Isidore
St. Just bends his handsome head to the level
of hers; but this time he touches not the soft
cheek, but the sweet rosy lips that have long
forgotten their mother’s kiss and have known
no other in all their sixteen years of life.
“ And you will be left alone in this great bar
rack for all the holiday time?” the man asks
presently, with a backward glance at the old
red-brick house, just dimiy visible among tha
branches of the trees. “ The demoiselles are
off to their homes, and the ladies—tho Misses
Smerdon—where do they go ?”
The girl draws her brows together with a look
of perplexity; ho has touched upon some sub
ject already troubling her thoughts.
“ Ah, that I cannot tell you, monsieur—well,
Isidore, then”—with a little laugh and flitting
blush. “ But there is something so strange in
Miss Smerdori’s manner lately, and as for Miss
Julia—have you noticed anything odd in Miss
Julia?”
“Miss Julia is always odd, as you say,” Isi
dore replies, with a considering look. “ Well,
perhaps she may be ajjittle odder than usual,
just at present; on the whole, I should think it
possible Miss Julia Smerdon imagines herself
in love.”
“ That is just what I think,” Cressida agrees
in an emphatic whisper, turning her bright lace
full upon her lover. “ Oh, Isidore, if that were
so, if we were to tell her that we, that you and
I ”
She breaks down in hopeless confusion.
But Isidore St. Just does not come to her assist
ance now; a shadow flits across his face and
there comes a very unamiable light into the
dark expressive eyes. Monsieur St. Just loves
the girl beside him with a fierqely ardent pas
sion; but he has neither wish nor intention to
make a formal demand for her hand of the two
old school mistresses who are the only guardians
Cressida Leigh has ever known.
However, he smothers the disgust with which
the proposition fills him, wisely considering
that he is not as yet absolute master of the sit
uation, and answers smoothly enough:
“My dear little innocent child, we could not
choose a more unpropitious moment for our
revelation; if onr grotesque surmise touch on
the truth, and Miss Julia be indeed fiancee, she
will not care to share the honors of the situa
tion with one so fair and sweet and young. No,
eAerie’’—with a tender squeeze of the slim
white hand—“ we will keep our secret yet a lit
tle longer, and then——”
He lifts his eloquent eyes to the blue sky,
from which the gorgeous coloring of a little
while back has gradually faded, until only a