New York dispatch. [volume], June 26, 1887, Page 7, Image 7

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

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CROWING OLD.
Softly, oh, softly tht» years have swnpt by thee,
Touching thee lightly with tenderest care;
Sorrow and death -they have oiten brought nigh
thee,
Yet have they left thee but beauty to wear.
Growing old gracefully,
Gracefully lair.
Far from the storms that are lashing the ocean,
Nearer each day to the pleasant home-light;
Far from the waves that are big with commotion,
Under lull sail and the harbor in Bight;
Growing old cheerfully,
Cheerful and bright.
Past all the winds that were adverse and chilling,
Past all the islands that lured thee to rest,
Past all the currents that lured thee unwilling
Far £rom thy course to the Land of the Blest;
Growing old peacefully,
Peaceful and bloet.
Never a feeling of envy and sorrow
When the bright faces of children are seen;
Never a year from the young wouldst thou borrow,
Thou dost remember what lieth between;
Growing old willingly,
Thaukful, serene.
Rich in experience that angels might covet,
Rich in a faith that hath grown with thy years,
Rich in a love that grew from and above it,
toothing thy sorrows and hushing thy fears;
Growing old wealthily.
Loving and dear.
Hearts at the sound of thy coming are lightened,
Beady and willing thy hand to relieve;
Many a face at thy kind word has brightened,
•• It is more blessed to give than receive.”
Growing old happily.
Ceasing to grieve.
Eyes that grow dim to the earth and its glory
Have a ewent recompense youth cannot know;
Rars that grow dull to the world and its story
Drink in the songs that from Paradise flow;
Growing old grac ously,
Purer than snow.
THE NEW _ BULE.
Hospital Comedy.
(From. Chambers's Journal.)
The directors, governor nnd matron of St.
Lazarus's Hospital had unanimously promul
gated a new law a wise and salutary enact
ment, it may be, but one of terrible import—
namely, that every nurse who became “ en
gaged” to a student or doctor connected with
the hospital should forthwith be dismissed.
There /.ad been a good deal ot love-making
"Within the walls of St. Lazarus. There usually
is where young men and maidens have frequent
occasion to meet each other; and even hardened
and avowed celibates who could resist the fas
cinations o‘ the loveliest girl in Europe when
she was attired according to the dictates of
fashion, and was bent on nothing but her own
amusement, succumbed to a pretty “sister”
dressed in a dainty cap and simple gown, and
engaged in tending the suffering. Several mar
riages had thus been arranged ; and Mrs. Saun
ders, the matron, who, being a widow herself,
considered the marriage of any of her subordi
nates “most un-nurse-like” - she was fond of
this phrase, having invented it—felt it to be her
duty to urge upon the governor the fitness of
pressing upon the directors the necessity of
putting a stop to all manner of courtship er
flirtation.
“The amount of sentimental nonsense that
goes on in the hospital is positively scandal
ous,” she said. “i m sure it isn’t my fault ; I
do all 1 can to prevent it, and yet it goes on.
Mrs. Saunders did herself no more than jus
tice. If any man in the place could look on a
nurse without positive avers on, it was not her
fault. She wished her nurses to be, she said,
“neat, but not attractive.” The bewitching
fringe was strictly tabooed; and since it had
come into fashion, the wearing ot the hair short,
adopted by sever;;! nurses, as beieg the sim
plest possible coiffure, h id met with her entire
disapproval. I n.‘or‘una»ely, she could not dis
figure the noses and eyes or her “sisters,” or
she certainly would have done it.
She was hpldin unmitigated awe and modified
esteem. The merest hint of her proximity was
enough to make the most sentimental couple
find pressing occunation at opposite ends of
the corridor or ward in which they had met;
and it was a great trial to her that, owing to her
being a heavy dame, ot ample person, who
could not exactly dart into a ward like a sun
beam, she had never been an absolute eye
witness to any “ nonsense” as she called it.
She knew that love making was going on
around her: she felt it in the air; and yet she
was never able to lay her finger on a tangible
instance ot it. Therefore, until her brain
evolved the bright idea of turning betrothed
renegades out of doors, she was very unhappy.
Now, a calm sense ot triumph brightened her
unusually austere and frowning brow.
The new regulation provoked some indigna
tion among most ot the nurses. Sister Fanny,
indeed, said she didn’t care; she didn t want to
get engaged to anybody, and the new rule did
not forbid one’s being—well, pleasant to—peo
ple. Sister Evelyn declared that she thought it
just and necessary (“thegoings-on were shame
ful,” she said), and Sister Fh rbe remarked,
with her brightest, merriest smfle, that it weuld
not affect her one bit. But all the others were
wroth, and one probationer burst into tears and
threatened to leave the hospital without await
ing the contingent dismissal.
“You needn’t be so frightened,” said Sister
Evelyn. “ You’re not likely to be sent away on
account of # w getting engaged. There won’t
be any occasion for it. ’
“Perhaps not,’’ observed Phoebe in a musing
tone; “but 1 think Sister Evelyn is the most
likely of any ot us to escape even the suspicion
of flirting.”
Sister Evelyn glared at the speaker, who
looked as placidly unconscious as possible.
Between the two there existed that comfortable
spite, breaking out into occasional passages ot
arms, which is the very salt of life to women
who lead a monotonous existence. At least it
was the salt ot life to Ph t be. Perhaps the other
did not enjoy it so much, for, as a rule, she got
the worst ot these encounters of wits. She had
at first hated Sister 1 hiebe merely on principle,
because she was pretty ; but these little battles,
in which she was «o often worsted, had made
her regard her with a detestation beyond what
she felt for any other good-looking girl in the
place.
Sister Evelyn had begun life as Mary Anne
Giles, and came from some unspecified part of
the “great unexplored East End.” It was
said that she had brought thence some Oriental
habits of thought and speech: but this was mat
ter of opinion. What is certain is that, when
she joined a nursing sisterhood and gave up her
surname, she threw her unromantic pru nomen
overboard as well, and appeared under the sen
timental title by which we have spoken of her.
This change of style leaking out at St. Lazarus’
had occasioned some amusement, which Sister
Evelyn bad resented so vigorously, that she was
now the most unpopular nurse in the whole es
tablishment. bhe was rather disgusted with
nursing altogether, and was inclined to give it
up, finding it harder and less congenial work
than she had anticipated. And, beside, the hos
pital cap was unbecoming to her. But she got
on well with Mrs. Saunders—some of the others
said she toadied to the matron—and so she
stayed on.
Fhoebe Chester, in hospital parlance Sister
Phoebe, was, ou the contrary, a universal favor
ite. She was the best surgical nurse in the
place, so the doctors liked her. She had a pret
ty face—which the cap Sister Evelyn found so
trying auited to per ection and a neat figure,
so the students and resident surgeons admired
her. She bad a winning smile, a soothing voice
and a noiseless step, so the patients adored her.
There was a general eelingef deep regret when
it was whispered that Ph tbe was flirting with
Dr. Harrington, and that there was question of
an inquiry into tho matter, with a view to ascer
taining it any engagement existed between them.
“It can’t be true,” exclaimed Sister Fanny.
** Phoebe has always been as nice as possible to
everybody; but she never took special notice
of any one of the doctors. It is only that spite
ful cat’s jealousy, .because she is in Dr. Har
rington's ward, and he never looks at her.”
(The “ spiteful cat ” was Sister Evelyu.)
“But.” said the probationer who had hinted
at the accusation, “ Dr. Harrington is so pleas
ant and so handsome, that even Sister Phcebe
might be—different- to him. And I did see
them on the stair together, and ”
“Well — what? Was there anything that
looked like flirting ?”
“I don’t know if you would call it so”—for
Sister Fanny was kn wn to be broadly tolerant
in the matter of civility, and did not apply the
title of flirting to any but extreme eases. “ I
don’t know it you woul-d call it so; but Sister
Phcebe was talking to him very hurriedly and
earnestly, and he looked very much pleased.
Of course, I saw them long before I heard their
voices ; but as I came nearer the landing where
they were, she gave him her hand and said :
‘Good-by. 1 suppose I must say “doctor”
■still, as we are in the hospital; but on Sunday
I’ll call you Walter., ”
“ What did he say to that
“He stooped and -and kissed her hand, say
ing: ‘Phoebe, you are the cleverest, as well as
the dearest and prettiest little woman in tne
world !’ J: he shook her bead at that and with
drew her hand, bhe was going away, when he
asked her : ‘V» bat about youbself'?’ She smiled
and touched the third finger ot her left hand
lyith the forefinger of the right. • I must not
wear a ring,’ she said ; ‘ but it is shining on my
soul’s band as bright and firm as ever.’ It did
Beem funny to hear Sister Phcebe, who always
laughs at love-making, make such a sentimental
Speech as that.”
“Yes. it is uni ke her. It almost makes one
think there is something between them. But I
hope not. It would be terribly dull if Phcebe
went: she always manages to make one see the
bright side ot thing*.”
“Can t you do anything, Sister Fanny?”
“ I will warn her to be careful. But if she is
really in love, it is sure to betray itself, and she
is too honorable to deny the truth it she really
is engaged.”
The warning came too late to save Phcebe, for
some such interview as the probationer had wit
nessed had been seen by Sister Evelyn, who had
immediately reported it to the matron. Mrs.
Saunders, the “Mother Superior,” as this most
unmateraal of matrons liked to be eniitled.went
forth to investigate the matter. She had a short
interview with Ph be, unsatisfactory, save that
®he elicited the awiul fact that she was encased
She obstinately reiused to tell the name of her
lover.
“ Not that your silence matters,” said Mrs
Saunders; “ every one knows that it is Dr. Har
rington you have been going on with ’ Both
you and ho will have to see the governor to
(Borrow about this matter.”
Then she dismissed the nurse.
1 h • be went out with her head meekly bent,
as if she were thinking ot the awfulness ot her
impending doom; but whew she had closed the
door, she tossed it up with a saucy smile and
executed a most “unnurselike” pirouette. Then
she produced from the pocket of her apron a
pencil and note-book, and there, within three
yards of the condemning matron—such was her
unparalleled audacity I—scribbled a note to
Dr. Harrington. This she intrusted to the
senior probationer in his ward, who gave it to
him next morning almost under Sister Evelyn’s
eyes.
That day, the two culprits were arraigned
before the governor, Mrs. Saunders accompany
ing Ph ebe as accusor. Walter Harr.ngton,
who exchanged a glance of amused confidence
with the Sister as she came in, was the first to
be examined.
The governor, after repeating the now rule,
and discoursing for a minute or two ou the ne
cessity for it, asked:
“Dr. Harrington, have you entered into a
matrimonial engagement?”
“ Really, said Harrington, “ I can hardly say,
I think 1 haye; but—may I ask you the day of
the month ?”
“What do you mean?” asked the governor.
“Are you mad?”
“ I hope not. I assure you that the informa
tion I ask for is essential to my answering your
question.”
“ It is the 20th of May.”
“Then—l am engaged.”
“ To Miss Chester ?”
The governor alluded to Sister Phnebe ; but
he was very old-fashioned, and could not ac
quire the hab t of calling the nurses Sister This
or That. He spoke of the uas he would of any
other young ladies.
“To M ss Chester,” repeated Harrington.
“ May 1 ask when this engagement began?”
“ Certainly. It began to-day.”
“Td-day!” repeated the governor, in some
surprise. “Perhaps, Mrs. Saunders, we have
Loen unduly prompt. Doubtless, Dr. Harring
ton and Miss Chester would have announced
their engagement in proper form, and have
volunteered their resignations.”
“ 1 had no intention of resigning,” remarked
the young doctor.
“But the law”
“The law does not affect me.”
The governor was about to rebuke severely
th s indifference to rules and regulations, when
Mrs. Saunders interposed. “I don’t want to
cast any doubt on Dr. Harrington’s truthful
ness,” she observed acidly; “ but Sister Ph cbe
confessed to her engagement yesterday, which
doos not exactly corroborate his statement.”
“ It certainly doos not. *
“ I think,” said the matron, “ that Dr.
Harrington is concealing the truth, in order
to bide his disobedience, with regard to the new
law.”
“ Dear, dear; that is very shocking !” said the
governor, getting bewildered attho new accusa
tion; while Dr. Harrington bowed, and express
ed his obligation to Mrs. Saunders for the high
esteem in which she held him.
The matron turned her back on him and said
to the governor; “You had better question
SisterPho.be. You will at least get the truth
from her. Girls are too proud of being engaged
to deny it.”
The governor turned to Phrbe, prepared to
act the part of stern upholder ot authority; but
her {ace looked so meekly bewitching, that his
heart so tened within him; and he remembered
that he had daughters ot his own, who likod to
have lovers as much as any other girls.
“ Well, well, Miss Chester, this is very sad,”
he began rather vaguely. “Of course it is
quite natural and right, and no one could ex
pect you to remain unmarried all your life, but
law is law, and must be obeyed. Otherwise, I
would suggest—and even as it is, perhaps .”
He was actually about to propose making an
exception in Ph i bo’s favor, when he felt Mrs.
Saunders’s cold hard eye freezing him to the
bone. He coughed, dropped his preamble, and
proceeded to catechise, though in an apologetic
and paternal tone, which the matron disap
proved ot. “ Now, do you mind telling me, my
dear, how long you have been engaged ?”
Ph ? be blushed a little, and looked down, but
answered quite clearly; “ A long time—nearly
two years.”
“But Dr. Harrington says his engagement
began only to-day.”
“ Yes; rh\t is quite true.”
“ But, my dear girl, it takes two people to
make an engagement as well as a quarrel. If
yon have been engaged to Dr. Harrington for
two years, he must have been engaged to you
lor the same time.”
“ Ch, 1 see 1” Phcebe smiled as if a new light
began to dawn upon her. “But lam not en
gaged to Dr. Harrington.”
“ Why, he said you were.”
“ Excuse me, I did not,” said Harrington. “ I
am engaged to Miss Chester- not to Miss Ph ebe
Chester, whom 1 should have called Sister
Ph - be, as every one in the hospital does, but to
her cousin, Miss Elsie Chester. Mr. Thorpe,
Elsie’s uncle and next of kin. would not consent
to her promising to marry a man who had his
fortune to make; and as she was a ward in
Chancery, there could be no tie between us till
she came of age and was free to act for herself.
This is her twenty-first birthday, and I may now
look upon myself as her future husband; for,
though there has been no communication be
tween us or ayesr, Sister Phuebe—who has been
very kind in telling me all her consin says and
does—said to me two days ago that Elsie had'
declared her intention of accepting me ifl
ot-ered myself after she reached ner majority,
she would receive my proposal this morning. I
expect her reply, which 1 think 1 may assume
will be favorable, by the afternoon post,”
Mrs. Saunders looked indignant at thia expla
nation. If it were not discourteous, one might
say that she sniffed at it, as if dubious of its ac
curacy; but Harrington caught sight of a gleam
oi sympathetic humor in the governor’s eye, as
he turned to Sister Phoebe with the query:
“ Well, Miss Phoebe, and what is the truth—
the real truth—about your love-affair ?’
“ It’s a very hopeless one,” she said with a
little sigh. “I am engaged to my cousin Jack,
Mr. Ihorpe’s son. Uncle Thorpe doesn’t ap
pro - e ot the match, because 1 am poor and have
to work or my living. Jack has gone out to
Rio Janeiro, because he is likely to got on bet
ter there; and as soon as his income is large
enough to justify our marrying, he is going to
send lor me. That’s all. I would willingly have
told the Mother Superiors 1 about it, if she had
asked me as a friend; but I do not feel bound
to confide my poor little romance to people
whom i know to be unsympathetic. It isn’t in
any way opposed to the rules ot the hospital.”
“ Ko, no; of course not,” answered the gov
ernor good-naturedly. “ And though lam sure
we shall all be sorry to part with you, when
your J ack claims you. 1 hope for your sake that
it won't be long. Now, go away to your work,
both of you, and—and next time you are not
breaking a rule, don't behave as if you were.”
Ph be and Harrington left the room, Mrs.
aunders remaining.
“ Well, they’ve got the best of it,” said the
governor, chuckling a little at the matron’s evi
dent discomfiture. “ Your sp—l mean inform
ant—has been too hasty in jumping to conclu
sions. She must have a better authenicated
case next time.”
“My opinion is,” said Mrs. Saunders, not
deigning to answer these remarks, “ that any
promise of marriage should entail dismissal
rem the hospital, even though both the con
tracfr ng parties do not belong to its staff.”
I don’t know how that would work,” re
plied her oompanion. “ You see, if the intent
to commit matrimony be criminal, the commis
sion of itmnat be much worse, and would cer
tainly deserve a punishment no less severe,
which would entail every one ot the honorary
surgeons, and myself, and even you, being
turned out of our comfortable berths and
thrown out on the world, which I at least should
consider inconvenient. I think, on the con
trary, that the wiser plan would be to rescind
the new rule.”
And the new rule was rescinded, or was at
least allowed to fall into honored desuetude.
Walter Harrington left the hospital, and mar
ried his Elsie soon after the little misunder
standing recorded above; but Sister Ph be
brightened the wards of St. Lazarus’s with her
presence for a year longer. When, however,
she left to become the wife of Jack Thorpe, no
one expressed more satisfaction than Mrs.
Saunders, though I fear this was from anything
but good will toward the bride.
a llsTappeal.
k)NLY TO SEE HIS MOTHEK’S
FACE/AGAIN.
(From the Philadelphia North American.)
The shadows of night were fast deepening.
Already here and there a star glimmered in the
heavens.
The ambulance rolled rapidly into the court
yard, and the inanimate form of a man was car
ried into the hospital.
An hour later the man lay on the white cot,
his bead swathed in bandages and his thin face
as pale as marble.
He had been knocked down by a heavy wagon
while crossing the street. Some said it served
him right. Why? Because he was drunk, and
one oi those miserable pariahs of society—a
tramp.
“Has she come up yet ?” he asked faintly,
tossing restlessly.
“ Hush t” whispered the white-capped nurse,
bending over him. “ The doctor says you must
not talk.”
“ It’s too late to tell me that now,” he moaned.
“1 will soon be dead.”
His voice changed to one of entreaty.
“Cne favor before I am gone,” he cried.
“ Send for my mother. She lives at No. — Arch
street. I have not seen her for five years. Her
presence would ease my last moments so much.
Ob, to see her again and obtain her forgiveness.
Tell her ”
His voice suddenly failed, and his head fell
back on the pillow.
He had fainted.
Bestoratives were quickly applied, but it was
a long time before he regained consciousness.
Then he began to talk again.
Like Kalstaif, “he babbled of green fields, ”
of his happy childhood days.
He imagined himself kneeling at his mother’s
side saying his evening prayers.
The gentle-hearted nurse turned away with a
suppressed sob.
His delirium increased in intensity.
He raved wildly and incoherently about his
past lite.
At last the doctor came and administered an
opiate.
Another hour flew by. The mother for whom
he so piteously cried had not come.
Time went on.
The first streaks of morning shot in great
golden spvars across the rosy borizou.
NEW YORK DISPATCH, JUNE 26, 1887.
The stars had gradually grown paler and
paler until now they were entirely indistinct.
Silence prevailed in the hospital ward.
A door opened and an elderly woman clad in
deep black entered, and went straight to the cot
ot the man who had been brought in the even
ing before.
She tell on her knees and began to sob con
vulsively.
She o lied him by name, but he heard her not
—he was dead.
Tflf mm CHECKS.
BY AN ENGLISH EX-DETECTIVE.
I had been about three years in the detective
line and I was thought to be a pretty keen hand
in special cases. I was often called “The Swell
Dbecause, somehow, it happened that I was
always picked for special duty when there was
anything on foot in which real swells—lords
and ladies, and such like, you know—were con
cerned.
Ono day I was put on a case of forgery and
robbery. I was sent off to a fine house in the
south of London, and I was cautioned to be
very careful in my behavior. The chief told me
it was a serious but a delicate business, and the
gentleman 1 was to serve didn’t wish to have
the matter noised abroad. Of course I took the
hint and went.
The chief had told me I should put on my
best appearance, and 1 did so before I went up
to the door of the house. When the servant
opened the door I asked if Mr. Anstoy was at
home, and when she told mo he was—though I
knew it all the time—l told her to say Mr. Crin
ly wished to see him on special business.
A few minutes later I was in the presence of
Mr. Anstey in oue of the most sumptuously
furnished sitting-rooms I have aver been in, I
think.
“ I have been expecting you, Mr. Crinly. The
superintendent to d me lie would send you.
Did he give you any particulars ot the case ?”
“He told me only that it was a case of for
gery and robbery, and said you would give me
all particulars,” I answered.
“ Very well; be seated. I must detain you a
few minutes. I find it necessary, unfortunate
ly, to tell you of a very painful occurrence in my
family, that you may the more dearly see how
I am placed.”
I took a chair as directed. Mr. Anstey sat
down also, and in a direct, business-like way,
gave me the information I needed.
“In the first place,” he said, “you must
know the nature of the offense I want to punish.
My signature has been forged on two cheeks—
one for eight hundred pounds, and the other lor
filteen hundred. These sums were paid by my
bankers, so that the former has robbed mo of
two thousand three hundred pounds. The for
gery ot my signature is ths more serious of
fense, and it is principally for the deteetion and
capture of the forger that I want your assist
ance.”
I bowed slightly to intimate that I was ready
to serve. 1 did not say anything, because I
could see that Mr. Anstey had only begun the
story that was to enlighten me.
“I have reason to fear the checks were drawn
and signed by my son. Ido not know any one
who could imitate my signature so perfectly. It
is remarkable that he has always written his
name exactly as I do, even in the minutest curve
and stroke. He has often signed my checks in
business transactions. But if I suppose he is
the offender, I must find a reason for the offense
—and, unfortunately, that ie too easily done.
For several years past I have strongly disap
proved his course of life. He offended me deep
ly by his dissipation, and the ruinous vices in
which be indulged. But I found that entreaty
and upbraiding were equally powerless to cause
him to make any amendment in his ways, and
to live in a manner more becoming the social
station he should fill. Some two months ago
proceedings of a disgraceful character came to
my knowledge. I spoke plainly in my indigna
tion, and be replied insolently and defiantly. I
then cast him off, to be no longer regarded as
my son. He used language I need not repeat
He then le t the house, and I have not seen him
since. I forbade the inmates of my house to
hold any intercourse with him, and I believe
they have observed my command. Under these
circumstances I know he must be suffering want,
because he is idle, thriftless, and has formed
expensive habits. Either want ot money or a
spirit ot revenge might prompt him to forge my
name, as has been done, in order to procure
money to waste in debauchery.
“ Yes, air, you have described a likely motive
for the crime. But if your son is reduced to
want, I suppose he has hot an independent bank
ing account. If he has not, it is necessary to
ask how he came to have checks to fill lor any
amount, great or small,” I said.
“ That is the most perplexing part of the pain
ful business. ‘ He has no account at my bank.
The checks were drawn on my bankers, and I
find the forms were taken from my own check
book,” said Mr. Anstey, now looking even more
pained and puzzled than before.
“But that brings the matter to a point at once,
Who could take a form from the book beside
yourself?”
“My niece often has my check-book in her
possession. She is in reality my housekeeper,
as her keen business qualities fit her well for
the control of the place. I allow her to fill checks
to pay tradesmen; but I sign every one myself.
Of course the paper would be useless without
my signature.”
“ Have you seen the forged checks ?”
“ Yes.”
“Do you think they were filled by your
niece?”
“ Certainly not. They are filled just as I
would fill them—the writing and the figures be
ing as like mine as the signature. That is
another reason why I believe they wero made
out by my son.”
“ I wonder you have not had your son arrest
ed.”
“I will do so eventually if he can be found;
but I would not take extreme steps, and bring
disgrace on my name until I had tried every
means to bring the offence fully home to him,
and confronted him with his crime. Then if
my son is really the offender, he has an accom
plice.'’
“You are satisfied that he has not been in
the house ?”
•• Absolutely sure ot that. And if he had got
in by any means, he could not have touched the
check-book without forcing the sate.”
“ Well, I can only conclude that the lady who
uses your check-book must have torn out the
two forms and given them to yonr son to fill as
he pleased. Have you questioned her?”
“ No. I have not known of the fraud more
than three hours, and I shrank from suspecting
one who is almost as a daughter to me, of such
a crime. What would you advise me to do in
your capacity as a detective ?”
“ A moment, sir. 1 must ask whether there
are other members of your family ?■'
“One other—Mies Lake. She is not related
tome. She is the orphan daughter of an old
friend, and has been brought up as my daugh
ter since her childhood. But such a crime as
this is impossible to Lily.”
“ Has she any access to your check-book ?”
“ No; she never either filled or cashed a check
in her life.”
Alter a few moments of silence, during which
I rapidly took into account the different bits of
intelligence I had received, I spoke up again.
“ Well, sir, I have my own opinion of this
case, but it is too soon to make it known yet.
You asked me what I would advise. I think
you should mention the matter to the young la
dies—or I must do so. It will be far better for
our purpose if you do it. Have them together.
Say you have missed the checks from the book,
and fine no note of having filled such checks.
You will be annoyed, and ask the young lady,
who sometimes uses the book, whether she can
give any explanation. That w.U be enough for
the present. I would not say large sums of
money have been drawn for the missing checks.
You will watch them closely, as laces often tell
tales without words. Indeed, I would like to
see them myselt if 1 could,” I said.
“So you may. I will act on your advice this
minute. Come with me,” he said, now appear
ing suddenly active and resolute.
I followed him from the sitting-room to the
library. There he pointed to a large screen of
more than a man’s bight, behind which I
might stand. I found .that I could view ths
whole of the room through one of the slits in
the screen, while no one in the room could
catch a glimpse of me, and I was satisfied with
the arrangement.
Soon as I was concealed he touched a bell, to
which the waiting-maid promptly responded.
“Tell Miss Lake and Miss Vincent I wish to
see them here,” he said, and the girl immedi
ately disappeared.
Very soon the two young ladies entered the
room.
“ Buth,” he said, looking grave and troubled,
as he realiy was, “ 1 want to speak to you on a
matter that has given me a great deal ot uneasi
ness, and I have asked yon to come, Lily
thinking that you may, perhaps, be able to
serve me. The clerk from the bank came here
this morning to tell me they had cashed two
checks for mein the last three days, and they
had reason to doubt whether they were made
out by me. I have seen the checks. They
were taken out of my book, and my signature is
imitated with wonderful closeness; but I never
filled or signed the checks. Ido not complain
because of the money of which I am deprived—
that is nothing. But my signature has been
forged, and that is very serious. You have use
of the check-book, Ruth. Can you conceive any
way in which the forger could obtain two of my
checks ?”
“ Two of your checks, uncle! You frighten
me, I know you cannot think I am the forger
hut you speak so dread.ully 1” said Ruth’
shocked and startled.
“ No, I certainly cannot think you a forger,
Ruth. But the matter is of the greatest oonso-’
quence to me, and I may speak more sternly
than usual. You make use of the check-book
nearly as often as I do. I never pass it into any
hands but yours, and I thought you might know
something of the way in which two check forms
have disappeared,” said Mr. Anstey, very
gravely but not harshly.
“I do not, uncle. You sign all the checks I
pay, and I am sure I do not let the book lie
loosely about while it is in my possession,” she
said, one white hand clenched nervously, and
the other extended as if to givo force to her as
sertion.
“And you know nothing, Lily ?” Mr. Anstey
said, turuing to ths adopted girl, who stood back
as if in terror, with her hand resting on the top
of a chair.
“No, sir—nothing. But it is very dreadful.”
“It is very serious, my dear. The money I
have lost is nothing. But it is terrible to think
what m Bchief miy be done when a skilled
rorger is able to use iny owu check-book and
cash his forgeries at my bankers. Do not
wonder that lam agitated. You may leave me
now.”
The girls did not wait for a second bidding.
Ruth went out of the room erect and proud as if
she resented an injury, while the more timid
and gentle Lily looked pained and pitying as
she glanced again at the man she was leaving.
\\ hen they had gone I camo Irom my place of
concealment.
“Well, what do you think now? I have
spoken to the girls, as you have desired, and
you have seen them and heard them. Are you
more enlightened ?”
“A little, sir,” I replied; “ but there is more
to follow your interview. There will be words
between the ladies as soon as they find them
selves alone. I speak from my pro'essional
exprienoe, sir, when I say a clew to the whole
mystery may be gained Irom their conversation
during the next hall hour. Do you know where
they are gone? Can you put me where I can
hear them without seeing or being seen?”
" I have gone so far in following your advice,
I will go farther—as tar as a gentleman can go
with propriety. The young ladles have gone to
their dreesing-room, 1 suppose, to prepare for
dinner. You may enter a small closet, or box
room, nearly opposite their door, if you can
roach it without being heard or seen. lam not
sure you will hear their talk there, but that ie
all I can do. There, Ruth has closed the dress
ing-room door angrily I” he concluded, as the
sound ot a door closing violently on the upper
floor reached our ears.
“ How shall I find the box-room ?” I asked.
“ I will make the venture, and it is better to do
It at once.”
“ I will show you,” he said; and stepping out
ot the libray, he ascended one flight of stairs, I
following.
At the top of the stairs a long passage extend
ed to the leit. Through that we passed, our
steps making no sound on the thick pde carpet
with which it was covered. Ne r the end ot the
passage were more stairs, broad and richly
carpeted, at the foot ot which Mr. Anstey stop
ped.
“The second door on the left is the box
room,” he whispered, pointing upward. “Be
careful. 1 shall be near until I see you again.”
I understood the significance of the last
words, and began to ascend the stairs without
making any reply. Treading as lightly as I
could, I reached the box-room without making
a sound. I opened the door noiselessly, and
entered the dark recess. While drawing the
door so as to close myself in, my back touched
something light, it fell, and made a noise on
the boards as it it were a bat-box.
blight as the noise was, it affected my over
strained nerves more than the rattle ot a drum
could jar them at another time. It lasted but a
moment, yet it appeared to have been heard in
the opposite room, for Miss Lake opened the
door, looked out, and then went back into the
room, leaving the door unclosed.
“I am not surprled that you fancy noises
where there are none, Lily,” I distinctly heard
Miss Vincent say.
“ You are very unkind, Ruth,” said Lily, in a
pained and tearful voice. “ I couldn’t help pa’s
speaking to you as he did. I think you must
see it was reasonable he should ask you about
the checks, as you so oiten use the check
book.”
“I think it would be more reasonable if he
should ask some one else >” retorted Ruth.
“Who else could he ask ?” questioned Lily.
“You 1” exclaimed Huth, viciously.
“Me I How can you say that, Ruth ? But pa
did ask me, though ho must know I never used
a check-book in my lie,” said Lily.
“Not as auch books are meant to be used, I
am sure. But lam just as sure you meddled
with uncle’s check-book, and took those blank
checks out of it,” said Ruth.
I had opened the door o r the box-room slightly,
a few minutes before, when Huth had exclaimed
“ You 1” I was now able to see into the dress
ing-room, where the girls stood ne irly opposite
their half-open door. When Ruth was accusing
Lily she bent forward slightly, and gave force
to her charge by the motion of her right hand,
with its forefinger extended, while her left was
clenched passionately.
“Oh, do not say such dreadful things !”cried
Lily, shrinking, and extending her arm as if to
ward off a threatened blow. “ You are mad,
and I will tell Mr. Anstey of this.”
“There are other things Mr. Anstey must
know, Lily. You have met George and spoken
with him on several occasions during the last
three weeks. I know it. And if you gave
George checks taken from Mr. Anstey s book, it
is easy to account for the wonderful resem
blance in the signature.”
V hen those words were spoken, Lity uttered
a faint shriek, and eank upon a settee. At the
same moment Ruth stepped forward and se
curely closed the door to prevent Lily’e ory
from being heard in other parts of the house.
Only smothered sounds of hysterical weeping
reached my ears after the door had been closed.
I had, however, got a clew. I could not hope
lor more then and there, so I leit the box-room
as noiselessly as I had entered it, and was
joined by Mr. Anstey as soon as I reached the
bottom of the stairs. He preceded me silently
along the passage and into the sitting-room,
where I had first seen him.
“ Well, have you learned anything ?” he
asked.
“I have found a clew, sir, no more—some
thing on which my mind must work before I
can present it to you. I can only say, now, that
the movements of both the young ladies de
serve the closest attention during the next few
days. I can do no more in the house, sir, at
present. I presume I may call whenever I think
it necessary ?”
“ Certainly. Call frequently, if it will enable
you to shorten the period of my anxiety,” he
said.
I went away pretty well satisfied with the re
sult of my visit.
The charge made against Lily was certainly
very direct and circumstantial. The fact that
she had disregarded Mr. Anstey’s express com
mand in speaking to his cast-off son on several
occasions told strongly against her. But her
appearance had made an impression on my
ni nd which tended to nullify the effect ot the
accusation. Almost as soon as I saw her I had
decided that she was not adapted for partner
ship in stratagems and crimes. She appeared
to be so simple, so gentle and good, that it was
hard to associate her with wrong-going. Yet
had I not known |some who were apparently
little less than angelic prove false to their
appearance when subjected to the searching
test of criminal inquiry !
Ruth Vincent was bolder, more assertive,
and, to my thinking, more fitted to engage in
dealings which the law would condemn. Might
she not have a purpose in thus trying to fix the
abstraction of the cheek forms ou her compan
ion? Might she not be doing it in self-de ease?
Might not love and rivalry lor the lavor of the
man who was some day to become the pos
sessor of Mr. Ansfey’s great wealth have
prompted her to both actions, and was she not
the person most likely to yield to such prompt
ings? These and similar conjectures filled my
mind. But conjecture would not servo my pur
pose. I wanted proof, and that 1 knew could
only be obtained by watching the movements of
both young ladies closely as long as might bo
necessary.
That evening I made inquiries about the sev
eral members of the family in different quar
ters. J picked up a little information in the
way of gossip, but did not learn anything of
practieal use in the prosecution of the business
I had in hand.
When 1 began my duties as spy next morn
ing, I was accompanied by a plain clothes con
stable, who was to act in subordination to me
in any way I might think it necessary to direct.
About twelve o’clock Miss Lake came from
the house in walking costume. I told my sub.
she was one of the persons wu should try to
keep under close observation, and together we
followed her for a considerable distance.
She turned along a road which led toward the
Crystal Palace, and I thought it was her inten
tion to extend her walk to that famous place of
entertainment and recreation.
When Miss Lake had proceeded little more
than a mile from Mr. Anstey’s house, ehe was
met by a young gentleman at a point where
roads crossed. The stranger advanced toward
her, raised bis hat in salute, then turned and
walked on beside her.
I knew the conversation in which they wero
engaged was of an earnest character, by the way
in which the gentleman stooped to catch every
word. I and my companion quickened our
pace considerably. I wished to overtake them,
that I might obtain a full view of the gentle:
man, who, I felt assured, must be the profligate
son of Mr. Anstey.
Before wo fully came up with the parties in
whom I was so much interested, the man
stopped suddenly and looked questioningly in
to Miss Lake’s face. That lace looked exceed
ingly pained and troubled.
“ I shall not get you into more trouble. Good
morning,” the gentleman said, as we passed
them.
He raised his hat as he spoke, and I saw he
was rather a fine-looking young fellow, except
that his beauty was marred by the traces of fast
living, which a practiced eye readily detects.
As he raised his hat, I noticed that his hair was
brown and curly. His mustache was brown, of
a lighter shade, but the side whiskers which
Mr. Anstey had described Bia son as wearing
were absent. The face was not exactly like
that in the portrait I had seen, but the general
resemblance was sufficient, and I knew I had
been correct in my first surmise.
“ Now, Potts, you must watch that gentleman
all day. Note every place he goes to, and the
company he mixes with. Above all, find out
where ho is staying. We may want him before
many days are over, and we must know where
we can lay our hands on him when he is
wanted.”
Such were the directions I gave my assistant
when we had gone on a few paces. He heard
me as a well-trained man should do without
turning his head in the least. He simply said,
“Right,” and continued to walk on while I
turned into another road by which I might re
turn to Mr. Anstey’s house without renassing
either Miss Lake or her late companion.*
When I sent in my card, Mr. Anstey directed
that I should be shown into the sitiing-room,
where he soon joined me.
“ Good morning. On business, I suppose ?”
he said, as he entered.
“Yes, sir. Will you show me the portrait of
your son again ?” I said.
Without speaking he wont to the cabinet to
which the picture had been consigned since the
son’s disgrace, and drawing it out placed it in
my hands.
“Yes; the same, only that the face is shaven,
with the exception of the lip,” I remarked when
I had looked over the portrait, comparing it
with the face I had seen only a few minutes'be
fore.
•• What! Hare you seen him ?” Mr. Anstey
asked, e»
“ Yea,” I replied. “I saw him walkins' with
Miss Lake in Sydenham read within the half
hour.”
“ With Lily I” he exclaimed, in a suppressed
voice, and starting back as if he bad received a
piece of intelligence which he found it almost
impossible to believe.
“ Yes. They were together only a few
minutes.”
“Lily!” he almost gasped. “I could not
have believed it if another had told me ot this.
I can hardly realize it now. Is this, then, the
way in which the chocks wore passed into his
bauds ?”
Mr. Ansley spoke as if he were in communion
with his own paiulul thoughts more than ad
dressing me.
“The circumstance is very suggestive, sir;
but I do not thiuk that it actually proves that
Miss Lake gave your son the checks. I would
advise you to speak to the young lady when she
comes in. You need not say how you learned
ot the meeting. I would advise you to speak to
her alone, although 1 should like to bo an un
seen witness.” 1 said.
“ Yes. You see I allow you to do as you
please in this matter. 1 have placed the case
absolutely in your hands. The library and the
screen will do once more,” he said.
I could not suggest any better arrangement.
We went to the library together, and when Miss
Lake returned to the bouse a lew minutes later,
she was bidden to attend Mr. Anstey in that
room.
“ You want to see me, pa?” she said, enter
ing when she had divested herself of her hat
only.
“ 1 do, Lily. lam more deeply hurt than
you can imagine by some of your conducts I
want to know where you have been, and whom
you have spoken with, during the last hour ?”
There was unmistakable sternness in Mr.
Anstey’s voice, and it affected the timid Lily as
painiully as a blow could affect her.
“During the last hour, sir I” she repeated, as
if in tear.
“ Yes, Lily, during the last hour. Answer the
question, miss.”
“I met and spoke to George, pa,” she replied,
faintly.
“ And why did you daro to go in opposition
to my commands ? Why do you hold inter
course with that worthless fellow when I have
so strongly forbidden it ?” he demanded, almost
savagely.
“Oh, do not be so dreadfully angry with me,”
she pleaded, while she shrank back in terror.
“ George spoke to me some time ago. He ap
peared to be suffering the deepest want—he
said he was—and 1 gave him what money I had
in my purse. I could not do less. He met me
again this morning—less than an hour ago. He
does not look poor now. I told him of the
forgery you spoke about yesterday. Be ap
peared annoyed, and ho left me alter only a
lew words. That is all the harm 1 have done,
sir.”
“All! We shall find whether that is all.
Did he say how he had eo much improved his
appearance?”
“ No, sir. And though I was pleased to
notice it, I did not mention it,” replied Lily.
“ You did not think it necessary, perhaps.
Your conduct has pained me deeply, Lily. I
shall explain further at another time, but leave
me now. ’
The young lady looked as if she would im
plore for the lurther explanation on the instant,
but a glance into the stern, angry face before
her overcame the impluse, and she went away
dejectedly.
I had noted every word and every gesture
during the foregoing scans, and I still felt that
the complicity of Miss Lake in the crime I had
to investigate was far from proven. I expressed
that opinion to Mr. Anstey, and requested him
to defer lurther proceedings in the matter until
he had heard from me.
It was past four o’clock in the afternoon when
I met my subordinate—the man 1 had told to
watch Miss Lake’s companion, who was then
unknown to me. Facts I had learned in the
meantime had made me look for his report
with great eagerness.
That report, however, was exceedingly simple.
After leaving Miss Lake, the gentleman so
far quickened his pace that my assistant found
it necessary to make an effort m order to keep
him in view. He followed about three miles,
when they came to a part ot the road in which
the signs of town neighborhood were wholly
undeniable. The road became a street, and the
private dwellings were not much more numer
ous than the shops, in which trade was car
ried on for the convenience or benefit of
the public. There the gentleman entered
a large corner tavern that was dignified with
the title ot “ hotel.” He went into the “private
room,” where, in addition to the refreshment
he needed, the waiter brought him note-paper
and an envelope, on which he at once began to
write. When bis task was completed, the letter
sealed and stamped, he gave it to the waiter,
w.th a request that he would post it as soon as
possible. My assistant went into the bar almost
immediately, and saw that letter thrust into a
letter-rack. As clearly as he could read, it was
addressed to a lady bearing the same name as
Mr. Anstey’s niece, and certainly living in Mr.
Anstoy’s house.
That was most important intelligence for me.
I thought it necessary to act on the knowledge
I had gained without the least delay, and I
therefore called on Mr. Anstey again during the
same evening. I told him of the letter ad
dressed to his niece, which would be delivered
with the first post on the following morning. It
was not necessary to insist on the importance ol
his obtaining a view of the letter before continu
ing his upbraiding of Lily. He resolved to sur
prise Ruth in the act of reading the epistle and
thus try to obtain possession ot it, or be told of
its contents.
He carried that intention into effect next
morning, and he subsequently told me what
had transpired.
“ I hope your correspondence is pleasanter
than mine, Butb,” he said, suddenly entering
the room in which she stood reading the letter.
Ruth started violently, and dropped the hand
which held the open letter down by her side.
At the same moment she turned her bold, beau
tiful face to Mr. Anstey and looked the defiance
which Mr. Anstey had not done anything to pro
voke. This, however, was her demeanor for a
second only.
“ Nothing of any consequence, sir,” she said,
tossing the letter on the table with seeming
carelessness, and resting her hand near the
spot where the missive lay. “ Only some of the
confidences that girls so often have, and a re
quest that I would make a call this morning. I
would go, if you think you can spare me lor a
couple of hours before dinner, uncle?”
“ I shall not ask to share your confidences
just now, Ruth. Of course you may spend the
morning as you please. 1 shall find serious
business to occupy me,” Mr. Anstey said, turn
ing around and leaving the room.
Rnth looked somewhat confused and consid
erably alarmed as Mr. Anstey retired. His
manner was strange and wholly wanting la cus
tomary geniality and fatherly politeness.. But
as soon as ho disappeared she clutched the let
ter and thrust it in her pocket. Alter a few
minutes, during which she appeared to be har
assed by troublesome thoughts, she, too, left
the room to prepare lor making the solicited
morning call.
I did not call at Mr. Anstey’s house that
morning, though I and my assistant were in the
neighborhood at an unusually early hour. We
kept close watch on the premises from a point
at which our presence was not likely to provoke
comment or excite suspicion. I felt assured the
letter I knew to have been delivered there that
morning would contribute in some way to the
solution of the problem on which 1 was engaged,
and I had too much experience in my business
to endanger success by want of proper precau
tion.
I saw Mr. Anstey’s niece eome from the house
and walk along the road toward the point where
we stood.
“This is our bird,” I said to my companion.
“ Wo must let her pass and then follow wher
ever she may go. I think she will load us to
nearly the end of this job.”
My directions were followed in every particu
lar. It would be only tedious to describe every
step of a journey that ultimately led us into one
of the over-interesting galleries of the British
Museum.
I soon found that to be the appointed rendez
vous, for George Anstey, Jr., camo forward to
meet the lady as soon as she had entered the
place.
It was of the greatest importance that I should
learn what passed between this pair, and the
more to insure that, I at once severed the part
nership between myself and my subordinate. I
rapidly gave him a few directions. He was to
learn all ho could, but he must conduct himself
toward me as if I were an absolute stranger. He
might be side by side or shoulder to shoulder
but no look or sign of recognition should pass
between us.
In a few minutes I had learned all I expected.
Almost the first words of ths lady were to re
proach Mr. Anstey for having deceived her.
“ You must have made them too heavy,” she
said. “The bank clerk told uncle of the two
checks, and he questioned me. But I have not
heard the amount. He seemed to think little of
that. What was the sum ?”
“Father knows to a penny, since his attention
has been drawn to the matter,” replied George.
“I thought it would have passed, though it was
about three thousand.”
“ Three thousand I” she repeated in a low
voice.
“ Yes—more or less. I thought I might as
well turn your kindness to some account. I
wish now I had tried lor ten. The old man will
have no mercy. I must make myself scarce for
a time, though all the money will be mine some
day.”
“ And I must continue to deny that I took the
blank checks from the book. Lily is already
suspected,’' said Ruth.
“That is too bod. Poor Lily is kind as an
angel,” said George.
“ You can sound her praises loudly enough,
but there is little praise for the woman who has
endangered herself to serve you,” said Ruth
bitterly.
“ There is a good time coming, Ruth. But I
know I must not wait for it in open day. I must
live very quietly for some time.”
I heard all the foregoing conversation while
standing at one side of a large case of curiosi
ties, the speakers having come to a halt at the
opposite side. When I heard Mr. Anstey say he
must live very quietly for some time, my mind
recorded the statement with emphatic force 1
certainly should do my duty in contributing to
the verification of those words.
It is not necessary to expend many words on
all that followed. I wished to communicate
with the gpntleman who had been robbed before
taking the next step; but I feared to ,’.o so lest I
might be indirectly conniving at the escape of
an-offender thereby. I folt myself bound to
make an immediate arrest. When Mr. Anstey
and the lady parted, therefore, I directed my
assistant to follow her home, which be did. 1
saw Mr. Anstey enter a well-known restaurant,
and immediately secured the assistance of a po
lice sergeant and two constables.
Entering the restaurant, I walked up to the
table at which George sat and quietly informed
him of my business. I also intimated that any
attempt to escape must be fruitless, as there
were others on the business. He Believed me,
and seeing the uselessness of creating a scene,
went with me, knowing that constables were at
our heels every foot of the way wo walked.
When the forger was securely lodged in a cell
to await examination on the following day, I
hastened to Mr. Anstey, Sr., to report what had
been done.
“ What! Ruth his accomplice 1” lie exclaim
ed, starting in apparent consternation when I
repeated the words I had heard in the museum.
“ Yes, sir; on her own admission,” I replied.
“Then she shall share his punishment 1” he
cried vehemently. “I will not spare my son,
and why should I spare this girl ?”
The old man kept his word. The son was
subsequently tried lor forgery and sentenced to
fifteen years’ penal servitude, while handsome
Ruth was held to be accessory in a minor de
gree, and was thought to be sufficiently pun
ished with two years’ imprisonment.
Thia Woatern lady was laboring under a mis
apprehension, but
SHE HAD THE COURAGE OF HER CONVIC
TIONS.
A few miles out on the line of the Wisconsin Cen
tral road, lives a well-to-do farmer, in whose rural
section no tooth-yanker has, as yet, hung out his
dental sign.
The recent wet spell visited upon ths farmer’s
wife a series of neuralgic pains, and a morning or
two since he resolved to escort Maria " down to
Chicago and get that everlasting aching tooth
yanked right out.”
The rural pair bought round-trip tickets and qui
etly ensconced themselves in one of the passenger
coaches.
By and by the husband got a little restless, and
meandered forward to the smoker, to while away
the tedium of the journey, remarking to Maria that
she could ••sit still, right there, and enjoy the ride,
and he would be back in a minute or two.”
His absence, however, was strangely protracted,
and, in the interim, the conductor put in an ap
pearance and presented himself before the wife,
prepared to punch the ticket she held.
The afflicted woman strongly misapprehended the
mission ot the official before her. and opening wide
her mouth, she exclaimed, to the conductor’s aston
ishment:
“This is the tooth, doctor. Jerk it right out in a
hurry; I guess I can stand it. You needn’t give tfo
chloroform. I ain’t a bit nervous. Only be as
quick as you can, and I won’t holler one bit 1”
Here is a reminiscence by a warrior, though
it is
NOT A WAR REMINISCENCE.
They wore over in the camp last evening, talking
about military matters and war and so on, and the
talk drifted around to personal bravery, and finally
some one brought up the subject of presence of
mind in danger.
*’That reminds me,” said the colonel, “of an in
cident that happened when I was but a lad. I was
very fond ofcrows nesting. One day I discovered
a nest in the very top of a lofty bull pine, fully one
hundred feet high. Up I swarmed. In the nest
wore four young crows and one egg. It was the
work of a minute to wring the young crows necks
and throw them out. Then placing the egg in my
mouth for convenience, I commenced my journey
down. It seems but yesterday," said the colonel
softly. “I looked up; the beautiful blue sky was
above me, and the crows, whose nest I had des
poiled, were wheeling in short circles, uttering
angry cries. Suddenly, without an instant's warn
ing. the limb on which I was resting, broke, and
I fell—ninety feet from the top I I lived a hundred
lives in that one moment I ’
The colonel s voice trembled. He brushed his
hand across hie eyes.
“ What! you fell ninety feet, colonel?'' exclaimed
a young subaltern.
The colonel gazed on him compassionately.
“No, you young ignoramus. I was ninety feet
from the top when I fell; consequently, I fell about
ten feet. But the jolt 1 got broke that egg. Bah I 1
can taste it yet,”
The colonel gazed around suggestively, and ho
got something to take the taste out of his mouth.
And they all had some.
The manners of Missouri judges are peculiar,
Imagine one of our judges
ADJOURNING COURT TO SEE A HANGING.
“Jedge,” said the foreman of a Missouri jury,
“ thar is goin’ to be a hangin* down at Bazoo day
after to-morrow. We lowed prob’bly ye’d excuse
us, as we want to ride down, of c ourse.”
“Set down!’’ roared the Judge.
“All right, Jedge, but there’s goin’ to be two
niggers hung, an* we calkilated it was customary to
let juries off such days.”
“Well, doggone it all,” said the Judge, consider,
ably disgusted, “jes’ keep still an' I’ll attend to
these things. I’m goin’to adjourn court the day
before, an’ we’ll all go down an' camp out on the
grounds over night. Did you have an idea I was
goin' to miss a bangin’ myself?”
The Dakota Belt is responsible for this anec
dote of
A SLOW RAILWAY TRAIN.
“Seen a man go along here lately ?” asked a Da
kota conductor, leaning off the platform, as the
train passed a farmer at work near the track.
“ Yes.”
“ Red-whiskered man ?”
“Yes.”
“Grip in each hand?”
“B’lieve so. ’
“ When did he pass ?“
“’Bout ten m.antes ago—he's just 'round the
curve. He's walkin’ mid’iin' fast, though.”
“That's just the trouble, but I’ll catch him or
run every wheel off the engine! I’ve no object ons
to his walking if he’s in a hurry; but he wants to
put up his fare first, and you bet he’ll have to if we
catch him ! Hi, there, Bill, pass the fireman some
more of those dry express packages !”
The men who follow circus companies and
sell lemonade and gingerbread have the repu
tation of never using lemons in their decoction.
We have no doubt the hero of this incident
WAS UP TO THEIR TRICKS.
“This is lemonade, is it not ?” inquired a light
haired gentleman blandly, hs he stepped up in
front of a stand on the circus ground yesterday.
The proprietor replied that it was ice-cold lemon
ade, and generously threw in the information that
the price was only five cents a glass.
“ i ll take a glass, if you please,” said the stran
ger, and it was placed before him.
“If there is anything I am fond of,” he contin
ued. with much affability, “it is good lemonade,”
and be drew a lemon from one of his pockets, cut a
hole in it, and with great deliberation squeezed the
juice into tbe glass; then from another pocket he
took a spoon ai d a small paper sack filled with
sugar, with which ho proceeded to sweeten the
mixture.
A crowd was gathering about him by this time,
and the proprietor of the retreshment stand was
becoming red and very moist.
“ I’ll give yon half a dollar to go away from here,”
he said to the bland gentleman anxiously.
“My friend,” said the smiling cnstonser. sipping
with evident satisfaction the beverage he had mix
ed, “it affords me pleasure to say that this is the
best lemonade I ever drank on a show-ground.
Here is your five cents.”
And he finished the glass, paid his money, and el
bowed his way through the crowd.
Half an hour later the lemonade vendor, broken
spin business and diguised with a pair of green
goggles and a false beard, was doing the three-card
mo ate act in a secluded place among the canvas
wagons and looking about searobingly for a light
haired and smiling stranger.
The Chicago News ie responsible for the fol
lowing tale of
AN ACUTE JUDICIAL DECISION.
Eddie Burke was before Justice Lyon this morn
ing charged with jumping on the cars while in mo
tion. The little fellow was almost scared to death
and trembled perceptibly before the stern counte
nance of the Court.
“ Jumping on the cars, were you?” exclaimed his
Honor, in a friendly sort of way.
“ Yetb. thir.”
“Just taking a little ride, eh ?”
“Yetb, thir.”
*’ Now, don’t you know that’s against the law?”
” Yeth— no, thir !”
■•You’ll go right back and do it again if I lot you
go this time, won't you ?”
“ Yeth- no, thir!”
The officer who bad tbe boy In charge began to
fear that his prisoner would get free, and Baid:
" Hs'i one of them boy. tbat’li be back there
again to-morrow. As for him not knowing the law,
I've e.'ten warned him to keep off the car., Yeatar
day he saw me jump off, and then he got on agai.,
I climbed up alter him and ran acron. tbe top of
three ears. He dropped off on the other Bide, but I
overtook him.”
"So you w,ere jumping on the car., too, were
yea, officer?”
“ Well, of course. I got on to catch the boy.”
“ Are you connected with the railroad 1"
“No, sir.”
Well, the., you’ve got no more right to jump
en the cars than the boy. I ought to fine you b.th.
It'll be $25 the next time you come in with a pris
oner no more guilty than yourself. You may go
thia time.”
SCINTILLATIONS.
A nod customer—The purchaser of
aodawater with a stick in it.
The livery horse is not as much of a
charger as ths chap who runs the stable.
The baby believes in the motto. “ A
place for everything and everything in its place ”
and her place lor everything is her mouth. *
Teacher—Who was Alexander Selkirk?
Tommy—He was a civil engineer. Teacher—Civil
engineer? Tommy—Yes, ma’am; monarch of all
he surveyed.
An old colored preacher, after ex
hausting himself in an attempt to describe Heaven,
wound up thus: “I tell you, my brethren, it 4s a
very Kentucky of a place.”
Bemember that the stuff you drink
Upon the outside shows,
80 always let your intellect
Shine brighter than your nose.
Mrs. Homespun, who has a terrible
time every morning to get her young brood out of
their beds, says she cannot understand why children
are called the rising generation.
A scientist has discovered that the
mosquito’s mission is to purify stagnant water.
Why in the name of common sense doesn't he keep
away from people, then, and attend to business ?
A scientific writer tells how water can
be boiled in a sheet of writing paper. We don't
doubt. We have known a man to write a few lines on
a sheet of writing paper that kept him in hot water
for three years.
“Boy,” he said, as he halted beside a
bootblack who was eating a big turnip, “I m afraid
that’s bad lor you.” “Yes—yum—but you’d better
put cut all your sympathy ou the turnip,” was the
topiy, as ho bl: off noth r quarter section.
The man who’s on the ocean
And seasick in his berth
Amid tbe storm’s commotion,
Is the man who wants the earth.
A passenger on a Connecticut train
stooped down to pick up a paper that had fallen
from his hinds, and was saved from getting hit by
a bullet that crashed through the window. Thd
newspaper is a great thiug, aud now Is the time to
subscribe.
An advertisement appeared lately as
follows: “For sale, a very rare postage stamp—time
ol Henry VIII.” A correspondent, on calling tha
advertiser’s attention to the fact that there were no
postage stamps at that time, received for answer,
“That is the reason the stamp is so rare.”
Chicago: She (reading the morning
paper)—“l see the Tribune says that ‘Miss Eila
Jones, the beautiful cantatrice, in hor solo last
evening, took the entire bakery.’ Wha tdo you think
of that ?” Chicago: He—“ Well, whatever may i>a
said of her voice, there are evidently no flies ou her
appetite.”
Crime in Nebraska.—Gage County
Judge: “What is this man charged'with ?” Con
stable; “Getting drunk and setting fire to his
house.” Judge: “Three dollars and costs. Who’s
next?” Constable : “ Here’s a wretch that calls Bo
at-riss Bay-ah-tree-che.” Judge : “Give him nin -ty
days on bread and water. We must clear the coun
try of such scalawags.”
It is told about a Dakota man that ho
has invented a machine to pump smoke down %
g< pher-hole, whore it is expected it will kill the
gopher. The only drawback seems to bo that while
you are inserting smoko in the holo the gopher went
into, ho will come out of another, and sit up aud
whistlo at you, and’ tell you that ho has smoked
ever since he was ten years old.
House-hunter (to agent’s clerk): •* Bu*
this house faces due North. Mr. 8m irt told mo it
had a southern exposure.” dork : “Did he? Well.
I am sure ho thought he was telling the truth. Ho’s
not the man to deceive anybody. Yon see. ho is a
patriot; that s what he is. He knows no North ind
no South, and, between you and me, I suspect ho fl
a trifle shaky on East and West.”
“Well, how has trade been this Win*
ter?” ho asked of a merchant in a Wisconsin village.
“Fair, sir; very fair.” “Then, the dull times have
not affected you ?” “Not a bit. Ono ot my clerks stole
thirty yards of silk, an 1 paid me $1,600 to settie;
and another gobbled $l3O in cash, and turned over
a house and lot worth $3,000 to keep out of court.
The times are all right, sir; perfectly right.”
A well known New York homoeopathic
physician says that ho was once rung up In the mid
dle of the night and requested by a man to call im
mediately upon his wile. “Very well,* said the doc.
tor. “How much will it cost ?” asked the caller. “Ten
dollars—to go that distance.” “ How much wiil it
be if you call in the morning?” “Two dollars.”
“ Well, call in the morning,” said the husband.
Two liverymen, brothers, married sis
ters, and lived in the same house in Dawson, and in
course of time a girl was born to each of them, mak
ing six in the family. But some wag declared there
was sixteen of them, and being asked to name them,
he wrote them down thus: “ Two fathers, two
mothers, two brothers, two sisters, two uncles, two
aunts, two nieces and two cousins—making sixteen
in all,"
A Minnesota poet sat by an open win*
dow writing a Spring poem on Thursday of last
week A thunder’torm was raging ou side. Sud
cieujy there camo a blinding flash of lightning, and s
moment later the poet saw burned upon his manu
sjrlpt the letters “N. G.” He was so impressed by
this occurrence that he resolved to give up the
poetry business at once, and he is now employed in
a crockery store.
“ Yes. I gave each of my sons $5,000,
and sent them West to make their fortunes. John
invested his money in a cattle ranch, and went to
work in earnest. It grieves me to say that Henry,
disregarding my admonitions about honesty and in
dustry, started a faro bank.” “And it all turned
out in the usual way, 1 suppose ?” “Yes. Henry
owns John's cattle ranch now, and has lent him
money to come home with.”
“I don’t believe in feeding tramps
the door,” said Mrs, Criraeonbeak. “You feed them
once, ana they're sure to eomd back.” “ Well, I
don’t know,’’said Mrs. Yeast. “I always give them
bread when they come to my door, and I can’t say
that I ev‘-r knew a tramp to come a second time.’*
“Oh. well, Mrs. Yeast, you bake your own bread,
do you not ?” This was all that was said, and yet
Mrs. Yeast went down the street like a straw bat 03
a windy day.
Advice to young ladies about to grad-?
uate: Be just as sweet as you Cih. The man who
doesn’t like to look upon a sweet girl graduate is a
v Hain—or married. Tie your essay with a blue
ribbon and be practical In the choice of a subject.
We suggest “ The Coming Man.” Advice to young
men about to graduate: Don’t mind the news
papers. Whoop it up for all you’re worth on the
commencement stage about “The Scholar in
Politics,” “ The Ideal Republic ” and “The Politi
cal Destiny of Patagonia.” About five years from
now read your oration over to yourself slowly.
I
LIEBIGTca’S
ORANGE WINE
COOLING, REFRESHING, ANTI-BHOUS.
A deliciovs and healthful temperance drink. ABSG*
LUTELY NON-ALCOHOLIC. Cheaper and much more
healthy than lemonade. One bottle of it makes 3 quarts of
delightful drink. In quarts only at one dollar. Of drug
gists, grocers, saloon keepers, <fcc. Uptown depots at
Jungmaa’B, 3d ave. and 61st st.; Molwitz, Sth ave. and
54th st., and Bth ave. aud 144th st.; Warrier & Imgard,
6th ave. and 125th st.. May also be ordered direct of
THE LIEBEG COMPANY,
N. Y. Depot, 38 Murray
dr. HUMPHBEYS’BOOK
jr W Cloth & Cold Binding
■ Steel tugrarinf*
S B MAILKD FRF.K. (
p 3 Address. P. O. Box 1810, N. T. •
LIST OF PRINCIPAL NOS. CURES PRICE.
1 Fevers, Congestion, Inflammations... .25
2 Worms, Worm Fever, Worm C01ic.... _ .25
3 Crying Colic, or Teething of Infants. .25
4 Diarrhea, of Children or Adults 25
5 Dysentery. Griping, Bilious Colic 25
6 Cholera Morbus, vomiting 25
7 Coughs, Cold, Bronchitis 25
8 Neuralgia, Toothache. Faceache 25
9 Headaches, Sick Headache, Vertigo. .25
Homeopathic
10 Dyspepsia, Bilious Stomach 25
11 Suppressed or Painful Periods 25
12 Whites, too Profuse Periods 25
13 Croup, Cough, Difficult Breathing 25
14 Salt Rheum, Erysipelas, Eruptions.. .25
15 Rheumatism, Rheumatic Pams 25
16 Fever and Ague. Chills, Malaria 50
17 Piles, Blind or Bleeding 50
19 Catarrh, Influenza, Cold in the Head .50
20 Whooping Cough, Violent Coughs.. .50
24 General Debility, Physical Weakness .50
27 Kidney Disease 50
28 Nervous Debility 1.00
30 Urinary Weakness, Wetting Bed... .50
32 Diseases of the Lieart, Palpitation.. 1.00
Specifics:
Sold by Druggists, or sent postpaid on receipt of
price.—HLMPIIKKYB’MEDItIAE CO. 103 Fulton St. N.Y.
DR. YOUNG’S ELECTRIC
BELTS, as they are worn round the body*
a .sure cure lor Nervous Debility, Weak’
ness of Body and Mind, Youthful Errors-
Loss of Manhood, Weak Back, Kidney
\ ana Spinal Diseases, Rheumatism. There
is nothing like Dr. Youngs Electric’Beit
'.and Suspensory combined in the world
'for restoring lost manhood and impact
ling renewed energy and vitality to the
/most shattered constitution. Bands tor
7 Female Weakness. Write for book oa
\ Manly Vigor, free. DR. W. YOUNG,
z 260 Hudson street, near Canal.
-New York City. Office hours from 10 A. M. till 7 P. M.
and by appointment. Call and examine before purchas
ing elsewhere.
PENNYROYAL PILLS
!‘CHICHESTER’S ENGLISH.’*
The Original and Only Genuine.
Bafe and always Reliable. Beware of worthless Imitations?
Indispensable to LADIES. Ask your Drngglst for
“Chichester’s English’’and take no other, or inclose 4c.
(stamps) to us for particulars in letter by return mail*
NAME PA PER. Chichester Chemical Co..
Hamc rar B’Madlßon 8 ’ MadlBon SQuare , Phiiada.,Pa.
Br-ld by Druggists everywhere. Ask for *‘Chlehes«
tor’s English” Pennyroyal Pills. a Take no other, j
Mathey-Cayius’-
CAPSULES.
Thia wonderful discovery has been used for 37
▼ears by the Physicians of Paris, London and New
York with great success. These Capsules are supe
rior to all remedies for the prompt cure of all cases.!
recent or of long standing. They are the cheapest;
In the market, costing but 75 cents per bottle of 64
Caiisules. * C’RLN PttAiSa 4
every where.
7