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VOLUME YI. NEWARK, NEW CASTLE COUNTY, DELAWARE, NOVEMBER 17, 1883. NUMBER 48. GATHER LEAVES AMD GRASSES. gave tears. Gather leave« and g radars Love to-day, For the autumn paused Soon away Chilly winds will Fill the vacant places with them, dear, And the empty vases. Brown and 8prays and leaves yet hold Glints of summer's gold. In the drear December When 11 And the dying ember Faintly glows, Leaf and spray may bring Thoughts of rosy spring. Ah, we fondly cherish Faded thing That had better perish. Memory clings To each leaf it Chilly winds are blowing, will soon be snowing, craves. trick the and the ish was her ing To lier and in to she the our lu blowing. be snowing. it it KISSING IN THE TWILIGHT. "So you think Mr. Claiborne fine looking, Minnie?" said one of a group of girls in a Bummer boarding house to a friend who liad arrived but tlie day before. "I thought he would he likely to suit your tastes." "Fine lookingl That does not half express it. I think him just splendid!" exclaimed Minnie Moore witn genuine "But only to think of enthusiasm, his having a daugter as old as I am! Upon uiv word, I can't believe it." "You'll believe It, perhaps, when you see lier," laughed another one, Rallie Ross. "She is spending the sea at Long Branch, but runs down here every Saturday night and spends Sunday with her father. They are wonderfully fond of each other, and kiss and 'go on' like two lovers," "Good graciousl" said Minnie, draw ing a long breath. "How I should like to—I mean—girls, don't you some times envy his daughter." "You meant," corrected sharp-wit ted Kittie Hurst, "how you should like to kiss him yourself. Do it, Min!" "Yes, do it, Miuuie, do it, I dare youl" cried half-a dozen merry girls in a breath. "You know 1 never take a dare, girls," cried Minnie, her roguish, hand some face turning crimson: "but in this case I fear I shall have to show or .the white feather." "Hearl hear!" oried all the girls in •chorus. "Minnie Moore doesn't dare to play a practical joke!" "Yes, I would dare," cried the little witch, defiantly, "but how could munage it?" "Nothing easier," said Katie Hurst. "You liave only to sit in tlie dusky parlor a few minutes before the arrival of Miss Claiborne, which will be about twilight. Then, wheu the gentleman enters, he will go straight to your corner, of course, supposlug you to be his darling daughter. Then, at the same instant, you will rush toward him, pretending to think he is your fa ther, whom you are expecting. And then—you get the kiss." "Oh," cried Minnie, putting her hands up to hide her blushing face at the last suggestion, "my conscience won't allow me. I am not expecting any father." The girls all laughed derisively. "I've known your conscience to stretch further than that on more than one occasion, Min, den. "Come, will you dare do it, or will you not?" "I will dare anything, and you know it; but you must solemnly vow never to betray me." They all solemly vowed and the plans were laid forthwith. i said Rachel War It was just dusk on a lovely Summer evening. The country boarding-house where our sc by the drooping branches of some fine old elms, whose thick foliage deepened the gathering shadows iu the uulighted parlor. A tall, handsome man of mid dle age, whom Minnie had well de scribed as "splendid looking," walked quickly up tlie path leading from the gate, a happy light in his dark eyes aud a smile of glad expectancy curving the rare, beautiful lii»s, shaded, but uot hidden, by a heavy, dark mustache. "I think the train must he in," he was saying to himself, "or else my lm pateence makes me think it late, hope she won't disappoint me this evening—my little darliugl" Another moment and lie was within the flower-scented, dusky parlor, where curled up iu the depths of a large arm chair in the further est corn er, and half hidden by the window drapery, sat a girlish form whose heart was beating like a trip hammer. He advanced at once, with outstretched arms, close to the darkened recess. "My dearest childl" "Oh, jiapal" And the next instuut tlie little figure was clasped close to his heart, and uot only one kiss, but a perfect shower of them, fell eagerly upon her brow and cheek and dewy, blushing lips. But suddenly there was a little shriek, a startled well feigned look of horror in the girl's uplifted face, aud breaking away from liis restraining arms, she bid her crimson cheeks in both white hands and laltered out: "Oh, let me go, sir, this instant! Oh, what shall I do? I—I—1 thought it was papal" . So he did, the little fraud, but she knew perfectly well that it was another girl's "papa" whom she meant. "It is I wno shouiu beg pardon, my dear young lady," said tho gentleman, who had stepped back, and was sur veying the lovely, shrinking little creatu amusement, embarrassment and pity ing admiration iu liis beautiful eyes. But ere tbe words had fairly left his is laid was overhung I with a queer admixture of lips Minnie was gone, and throwing herself down upon the bed in her own little room she buried her hot cheeks among the cool, white pillows, and gave way to a passionate burst of tears. "I my search tric hiding than the old of it old Then, a way and Well, work defeat in acter, of a The trying days dle up torn down. hoys tree had large wits' and bit the find it "I never will do such a wild, idiotic trick agan—never! 1 don't care how much the girls will laugh at me tor hacking out. Oh. I could just die of mortification! 1 shall never, never have the courage to look him In the face again!" It was, indeed, several days before Minnie was herself again, meantime Mias Claiborne had come and gone, and Minnie, watching from the window, had seen the pretty, styl ish young lady promenading grounds on the lather, and she had was even then laughing at the story of her own foolish escapade. When at last the unavoidable meet ing between Mr. Claiborne and herself took place Minnie's saucy eyes were timidly downcast, and a guilty color dyed her face from forehead to chin. To save her life she could not meet those eyes which she felt were reading lier very soul and laughing at her con fusion. But on the contrary, Mr. Claiborne tried so kindly to make her forget it, and led the conversation in his own easy way from ope subject to another of deep interest to Minnie, that before the evening was half over she could look up into his face and smile almost as naturally as though that miserable, madcap adventure had never been; and in a week or two they were the best of friends. "Miss Minnie," said he one eveniug, the very last before the breaking up of Summer boarders, "do you remember our singular introduction to each other lu tills very room?" Did she remember? Minnie glanced around, and tlie parlor, In its dusky solitude, with tlie breath of late roses scarlet honey-suckles wafted gently in through its open windows, brought hack most vividly tlmt other eyenlng, and those warm, delicious stolen kisses, whose memory had made her life half paradise, half purgatory, ever since. They chanced to be alone and Minnie felt painfully embrassed. Her eloquent blushes were her onlv answer. In the tli* of her handsome doubt that he skilfully nor turns yey? *W most the an did like iu will ed. was of A the hi Die to in "Come, Minnie, tell me," lie went , his beautiful eyes brimful of mis chief as a schoolboy's; "were you really peeling to meet your father on that eventful evening?" "Oh, Mr. Claiborne, don't! please don't! And bright saucy, daring Min nie Moore, unable to bear another word or look, crossed her arms upon tlie low windowsill and, bowing her bright head upon them, wept ue if her heart would break. Oh, what a bitter sweet memory those kisses in the twilight had provd to her I "Mr. Claiborne was grieved and shocked at the startling effect of his playful question. Minnie was always gay, so full of mischief, he had never dreamed of lier taking anything so lously. But now her bravo was ut terly broken down, aud she sobbed out the whole story of her foolish joke, und begged his forgiveness like a naughty child. "My dear child," said he at last, stroking her golden hair so tenderly that Minnie thought she would like to sit there forever, "I have nothing to forgive. I suspected tfle truth hug ago, for I have a mischief-loving little girl of my own, you know. But, lu» deed Minnie," with one of his rare, beautiful smiles, "it was tlie very sweetest moment I have known for years, if 1 were, not so old Ills voice ceased here, and he was silent so long that Minnie looked up and saw an expression of such yearning sadness on Ins dark, haudsome face that it touched her heart with pity >a "Oh, Mr. Claiborne, you are not no oldl" she cried, impulsively. "No one would think so; I'm sure I never did." Then down went her gold«» head upon the window sill again, for her words had brought a sudden light into Mr. Claiborne's eyes that fairly daz zled her. me now. too old to win the love of a bright a of of in it she my sur his "Minnie—Minnie Moore, saying, passionately, "don't trifle with Is it possible Unit 1 am not he was I young girl—to win yours, Minnie?" There was no very audible auswer, but once more his strong arms were around her, and hla warm thrilling kisses crimsoning her cheeks again in tlie deepening twilight, but this time there was no mistake about it. I Ft * »re». Tl.e destruction of lumber by forest fires is known to be very great iu the Eastern States, but the Wo-t which is a iiuid of big things, produces oonHatra tious beside which ou» a are mere bon fires. A correspondent in Washington Territory says tbut tlie smoko from for est fires that have beeu burning there all summer, overhaug Oregon, Washing ton, Idaho aud part of Montana, cover ing a territory as large England, the Middle States, Virginia and part of Ohio, But even such great fires, being of infrequent occur»euce uot so destucuve as the steady, always increasing devastation wrought by tue lumbermen, who have uo tri.o foresters following tüein aud plautiug trees lor future use. lew peoplecau be induced to lock tar enough ahead in the mutter of tree growl g, aud fewer yet core to improve the laud lor the general good of future generations. Yet it is while from merely selfish uouaid erations for men in middle life to plant trees. A retired phiau, sixty thereabouts, bors wheu he planted a peach orchard, it seemed hardly Wurth while for a . at his uge to begin growing trees. But of he lived to enjoy the Lui ta uot only of that orchard, but of another planted ten years later, aud left behind him acres of woodland planted by his fortnight. I Muon can be doue by individual aud I g^eoiated enterprise, aud it is upon own bUc fi enterprise that the main relianoe fur timber culture must be plaoed. all Ol N Philadel yours of uge or ridiculed by his neigh opl« Hide Money. and of night to was Mow "I have been sent for very often In my time," said an elderly detective,"to search for money concealed by eccen tric people. There hiding away of each forty years ago than there is now, owing probably to the doubtful character ot some of the old savings banks. Still, there is more of it now than most people suppose,and whenever a hank breaks the teapots and old stockings come into use again. Then, too, there are persons who have a delight in concealing money in such a way that they can get a sight of it now and then or at the place in which it is concealed I "What is my method of search? Well, I can hardly say; in detective work set methods are only too apt to defeat tho ends for which they are put in operation. Our proceedings depend wholly upon circumstances. The char acter, habits and surroundings of the concealer have to be considered. A knowledge of human nature and au aptitude for perceiving the significance of certain classes of faots are especially needful. "Seme fifteen years ago I went up to a farm house in Orange County, at the request of the heirs, to look for money. The deceased had no striking charac teristics for my purpose, and, aftei trying several lines of search for three days l grew doubtful. Ills riding sad dle had been ripped open, his hootlieels knocked off for diamonds,his solos split up and his upholstery pulled to pieces. Bricks had been taken out, the hearth torn up, and the wain-sootings pulled down. Even the backboards pf picture frames had been taken out, and the hoys had dug around the roots of every tree in the orchard, hut still no money had been found. The reward was too large to be lost, but l was nearly at my wits' end. Fianally I asked for a horse and wagon. I wauted to drive about a bit aud settle my mind. As I rode off, the brother of the deceased said,'You'll find the farm well laid off, he surveyed it himself.' more of this not or was I've this a your seen put of if the the go an of "Those words kept coming to my mpuj. The man hadn't concealed the money in the house, that was evident; nor in the barn, for |ie seldom went there. Why should he use the foot» of turns or stones if he knew how to sur yey? The thought came like a flash. *W hern was the old gentleman iu the habit of sitting?' 1 asked. 'OU, he al most always sat by that window,' said the brother, 'hut we'ye pullpd eyery thiug to pieces around there.' 'Bit dowii just as he did.' The man sat down. 'In which direction was he most apt to look?' 'Nowhere ip par ticular; out of the window generally.* »Toward the barn?' 'No. this way.' L followed the l(>ok; is was in the line of an old, used-up pump. 'Which way did he walk when he went out to the held/' -Over to the pump, aud then made a bee Une for the pond?' These answers had a certain siguilloanco. Men like to have the place of concealment iu sight, and it is well kuowu that they will olten walk over money they have buried to see that the sod is undisturb ed. I bad the pump taken up and ex cavations made—no m one y- YUe pump was replaced. I entered the room once more, and stood by the window. Sud denly I saw a faint but peculiar looking markon the sill; it was a surveyor's point. I 'lined' it up to the pump, measured out to tlie exact ceutre of the line, and tlie digging began. A two inch steam-pipe was struck at a depth of four l'eet. Tlie end was plugged; I took home a $500 hid that night. •'I had a curious case two years ago, A wealthy partial paralysis, and his speech and the greater part of ids memory had left hi in, lie wrote out the question, •Where did I put my money?' The amount was large, $.12,000 in bonds, which he had been about to take to a safe deposit building. The heirs were wild. 1 stopped ail the tearing up and euwhiourpfickiug business, for the was not a 'concealer,' though it was supposed by tho d«otwn that he had felt the attack comiug on and had P4t Die money in some out-of-the-way place. Just how or in what spot in his library lie had fallen could not be upule out. After a day's reflection my part ner and 1 had to conclude that ho had been robbed. Two courses were opeu to us; we could make sudden arrests without any real evidence, always a hateful course for a good detective to take, or where the man fell, and line' up from that. Tlie doctors helped us here: 'You had better examine the gentle man's body,' they said. We did so .and found a long horizontal mark on the hip, and blue marks elbow. He bad fallen sidewise over an object not over sixteen inches high,aud having a narrow, rounded edge of metal, for an iron mark was found on tlie clothiug. Every piece of lurniture in the house was inspected, but to uo purpose. Tlie heirs were in despair. But my partner and I began to be hope ful. In detective work, whenever you come upon some detail that seems ut terly inexplicable, that is tlie thing which of all others must be explained; and you feel, moreover, that in solving difficulty you will come nearer in some unknown way to your point. We took all uight to think the matter over, Then my partner said; 'Uow about the cellar? That's where tlie household metal is ' They all laughed, 'He liasu't been there iu a year,' they said. We went down. My partner glanced quickly around, aud then gave me a look that I can almost feel running through my nerves to this day. He discovered some common house hold aitides which had not beeu used aiiifM the family bad been searching tbe fireplaces. Hu was, in fact, looking over a iot of coal boils, 'There is our metallic edge,' lie said. He turned Lia» hods over carefully, and from out a mass of waste paper there rolled, at last the $32,000 worth of bonds. The par alytic had fallen over the hod, and the money had dropped iuto it among his Before the general so to to lu» for up no her so of of to all as to to had been attacked with must find the exact spot the knee aud not was in time I he the a bon for there great tue lor to good to But of ten of aud upon : waste papers, search was made, all 'rubbish' had beeu taken to the cellar. Our friends had sought too deeply for what they had supposed to be ooncealed money, ami had grossly neglected the science of the obvious. Some detectives do precisely tbe same thing. My partner and I di vided $5000 between us tliat night," or neigh A handsome handkerchief made of crimson plush with satiu lining of the same color ; put a spray of rosebuds and leaves in ribbon embroidery. The case should be in shape like the two oovers of a book, aud should tie with a ribbon of the same oolor as the case. —Brooklyn's debt exceeds $38000, ifl the upper side 000 . t Th e Hotel Yanic er. "That's the fourth case of booze I've handled to-night, and it's only two o'clock; the boys must be havin' times, and no mistake/' were the somewhat mysterions words of a strapping big watchman as lie strolled up to and leaned against the office counter of one of the principal hotels of this city last night and helped himself to a couple of toothpicks. The remark was addressed to the night clerk of the house, who was sitting with his feet up, reading a newspaper, and was overheard by a reporter engaged in glancing over the register. "What do you mean; what's the row?" asked the scribe, the haughty autocrat enshrined behind the counter the a of not having deigned to make any reply or even glance up from the article he was reading. "What do I mean? Why, I mean I've run four drunken men up to bed this blessed night, and a devil of a row a couple of 'em made about it, too." "Are four in one night more than your usual share of such prizes?" "Well, yes sir, it is; although I've seen the nights when I've had seven drums, to eight fellers, all put to bed. Oh, the night watchman of a hotel ain't got no soft snap, and don't you forget It." "Do they give you much trouble as a rule?" "Some does, and some doesn't; but most of 'em is easy enough to manage if you know how to work 'em. You sea." he continued, seating himself on the oounter and taking another tooth pick, "there are different kinds of drunks, you know, such as mild drunks, silly drunks, fighting drunks and blind drunks, and all must he treated in dif ferent ways. Now, the last feller I took up to bed, f'rinstance, was just as easy to handle more trouble to take than a drink; but the man that came in before him was a terror, a regular ugly one, who wouldn't go above the first landin' without half an hour's coaxin' and pfishin', and he wanted to knock out the bronze iqqn what holds up the gaslight at the head of the office stairs. Old chaps and countrymen' seems to be the easiest to manage; hut some of the young city bloods that come in late are worse than tight a a to of on uo ut in We the a He tbe our Lia» a last the his baby, and no so many lunatics. Why I took a sort of dude up to No. 431 last Tuesday night that threw all the bedclothes out of the window while I went to get him sqrae ice water, aud \jras try in' his pest to gut tl|ß mattress out when J gqt back. I had to go out in the street and get the things, which was scattered all over the pavement. Then they sometimes make a fearful row and wake up the other guests, and holler for more grog, and get sick, and are more trouble than twius with the mea sles;" and the night watchman sighed as tlie memories of his by?gone pxpe rlenoos with various kinds of ''drunks" flitted across his brain. ''Do they ever give you anything for for your trouble iu taking care of them?" queried the scribe, "Well, no air, not often, though sometimes one of 'em will oome down handsome, but mostly when they have to be helped to bed they are too rummy to know enough to do the right thing, and, of course, when they wakes up next morning they generally have heads on 'em, and goes away without even thinkiu' of the trouble £ had with 'em tbe night before, and even if they did I wouldn't be on duty, remember my kindness anyhow. The qidy case when I ever struck it real rich was one night last May, I Imd lugged a great big fellow, from 0ol-o rado. I think, up to 245, on the third floor, and was just helpin' him into bed when Here the hotel anuunoiator began ringing, and the uight olerk, looking up, remarked with a yawn; "That's the third time219 has rung; Bill, s'pose you let up on that fairy tale you're giving us, aud run up to see what he wants;" and the much-enduring friend of the intoxicated patrons of the hotel winked at the newspaper man, said "that's one of 'em," and slowly weet upstairs, they couldn't The Florida Evei-gl*«!«», Wheu tbe générai Uovorument sought to remove the Indians to their reserva tions, many of different tribes fled iuto the everglades, and it is estimated tnat now living there. Ouly 80 appear on tlie rolls of the oensu-, because to penetrate the wildernesB. The 80 Indiana who appear upon the census rolls are those who oome ont to trad ; but it is known ttiat the large majority are averse to trading or mingling with the whites. Indian hunters oome out with bear, deer and panther Bkina, aliowiug that the everglades muat con tain good hunting grouuds. A number of negroes, say tnirty or forty, are knowu to bo held by the Indiana. They apeak the Indian tongue, wear the dreas of Indian women, and are made to do the women's work. These negroea evidently the progeny of runaway alavea, who eaoaped before or during still held iu slave misaiouary ever attempt 700 or 800 census officer lias been able the oivil war, and ry. Ouly to ouny the uews of Liuoolu's proc erg loties; he left tarnation into the the border of tlie Indian oountry with groat speed. A few months ago Chief Tiger Tad beoame displeased with one of his colored servants, and brought him iuto Fort Myers to offer him lor sale. When informed that tue negroes all free ho ejaouiated, "White man's nigger mebbe free, bat Indian's ." Whereupon Tiger Tail had had ami the di mgger, _ grasped the dur key by the nape of the neck, pushed him iuto the cauoe and paddled back to the everglades. The Seminoles are quite jealous of any in terference with their domain aud will guides through their oouut ry. So strictly is this rule maiutained that au Indiau boy, who has beeu raised by a New Orleans gentleman, under an agreement with the Indians that he muy stay six months of euch year with him and six months with nis people, ooulel uot be prevailed npon for any oouaid errtion to guide white men into the oountry. in a of ifl uot serve side t Guy'» Revenge. eral tive and N. The rose in of the the four He him. by sion lie the the and soon that the tion fell at and late uaid cent to was A hunter was hurrylHg through for ests in the direction of a small settle ment on the banks of a stream that mingled its waters with the Mississippi. His age might have been thirty years. IIis companion was a large dog, In the settlement he was known by the title of Guy Greenman. He and his young wife dwelt a little apart from the settlement, about half a mile from tbeir nearest neighbors. Many had thought that they ran considerable risk from the savages; hut this idea they did not entertain. The savages had been at peace with the whites for a long time, and they felt they had nothing to fear from them. They had fled to this spot to escape the persecutions of a white man. ^nd they felt that the redskins could notfbe worse than lie. A villain had once sued for the hand of the young wife and he had been re ected; he swore vengeance and they had fled to this quiet retreat. Fqr a year they had lived hearing nai^lit from their old enemy. But let us return and follow the hun ter who, with his dog, homeward. "Well, Swiftfoot, we shall be there shortly," said the hunter. Do you think your mistress will be glad to see to-night?" The dog looked up into the face of its master, giving an answer in the affirma tive as plainly as words could have done. Suddenly, just as an opening in the trees, far ahead, was in advance, paused, with his head raised aloft, and seemed to be sniffing hurrying discerned, the dog, who ;h.' "What is it, Swiftfoot?" said the hunter. of E. the of the the the of At tli up a the ht ad, and then inti a The dog turned toward him and ut tered a low howl. The blood seemed turned to ice iu the veins of the hunter. Surely that howl was tho forerunner of danger to the one he loved so dearly. Once more the animal gave utterance totflat same dismal howl, and then darted forward, the hunter following him. It was but a short time and he was at the edge of the clearing. His cabin stood he had left it, but there no smoke curling from the chim ney, indicating that the good wife was preparing the evening meal. I With his heart oppressed he hurried forward. The dog was there before hirp bounding In nt the open door, but he was out again the next minute, giving a fierce growl. "Swiftfoot, where is your mistress?' ' —shouted the hunter, as a glance showed him the empty cabin. The dog gave no answer, but ran round with his nose to the ground. A minute later and he gave a bark ; tbe huntpr hurried to the spot. There were tlie footprints of savage feet, with those of the one he loved. There was also anothei —that of a white man. The trail led away to the forest. Their old enemy had discovered them, and, with the savages, had oarried away his wife into oaptivity. For a moment he stood as if unable to move. Then he raised his right hand ana exclaimed: "This world is not large enough for us both. Ralph San ford shall diel" With these words he hastened ward, following the dog, who kept the trail. Thus they sped onward again into the heart of the forest. Bhould he be too late to save his wife from the Villain who had her ip his power? He could only strain every nerve to the uttermost. The darkness gathered thicker, aud the two pursuers kept ou their truck. If was midnight at last. Not the dog paused. Suddenly the hunter beheld a light faintly glimmering through the trees before him. His heart gave a great bound. Swiftfoot came back and turned his eyes up to his master's face. The hunter gently patted him mated that he should now go behind him. He at once obeyed, and they moved onward, Closer and closer they drew to the spot from where the light came, and at last two figures were revealed by the light of the fire. At the sight ot one (his wife) his heart gave a great throb of delight; but it thrilled with rage wheu he beheld the other. It was Ralph Sanford. About them lay stretched three savages whom Saqford had hired to help iu carrying ont hi* infamous scheme. The hunter was so uear them that the voice of the villain came to his lose a word of the converaatiau. "You are mine, Alice Greenman, now and forever," he said, Ho took a step toward her. "Back, villainl Touch me notl" she oried. "Death would be far better than a life with you! My husband will yet be avenged upon you for this out rage." Hardly had thees words left her lipe before tbe sharp report of a rifle rang through the forest; and, falling at her teet with a bullet through his heart, Ralph Sanford's soul was sent before bis maker. Tlie savages jumped to their feet, but the hunter and Swiftfoot dashed in among them. W ith the butt of his rifle Greeuinan struck one of them to the ground, while the dog caught a nother by the threat. The third sprang away and was soon swallowed up in the gloom of the forest. A moment more and the husband aud wife were clasped in each other's arms, their hearts filled with joy at the reunion. Guy and his loving wife were never after ward molested by white man redskin. And thus it was that Guy and Swiftfoot wreaked speedy vengeau oe upon the maraudera. 80 ; do , so that he did not one lor the and in will an muy him the A Remarkable Doteotiv«. dies, over ner thus ing of mod By thus to the it. is it ors tre, this still to the George Henry Bang«, aged 52, the Geo eral Superintendent of Finken ou'g Detoc tive AgenoieB at Chicago, Philadelphia, and New York, died suddenly at Roselle, N. J., where he was spending the Bummer. The career of M*. Bangs is one of the most remarkable of American detectives. He rose from the ranks to the highest position in Pinkerton's force, and for over a quarter of a century he either p'annedor personally worked every important case entrusted to the Pinkerton agencies. Among the work done by Mr. B ings the capture of Jules Imhert, the celebrated French forger. The Frenchman obtained four drafts, amounting to $15,000, from Vugust Bei mont, and by forgeries secured $20,000 from unsuspecting New York liankers, after which he fled the country. He was traced by Mr. Bangs to Canada, wlnther the young officer started to capture him. With no effort at subterfuge he ac cused the forger directly of his guilt, and by sheer pluck managed to export a confes sion from him. This once accomplished, lie started for home with his prisoner the cars, taking the precaution to fasten the forger's right wrist to IBs own with handcuffs. After traveling a hundred miles, Imbert apparently fell into a d»M, and B&Dgs, who was completely tired out, soon followed his example. When he awakened, be found to his intense chagrin that the Frenchman had picked the lock of the handcuff and escaped. The la t sta tion was Fords, in New York State. He fell 6ure that the pnsorer bad left the car at this point. He had the train stopped, and retraced the distance oa foot. It was late at n cht a v 1 he went to the leading hotel and eskad for a bed, lnteuding to begin the seaicn in the morning. The host uaid the only bed he could have wus the which was already occupied by a re cent arrival. Glad to sleep anywhere, Banks accepted the offer. When he turned down the coveriat of the bei he saw to his astonishment and.dchgnt that t is compau was his recent prisoner. Ue hastened to secure him, and in the morning the pair landed sJely in New York, where Imbert was convicted and sent to State prison, where be died eight years later. Another famous the first great robbery of the Adams Express Company at Montgomery, Ala. It was in 1858. The company missed $10,000 in bills from one of its packages. There were uo clues, no suspicious. The Vice President, the late E. ». Sautford, set a careful watch upon the office at Montgomery, to ascertain who of the employees could have commuted the crime, as it could not have been done outside, bhortly afterward a sealed pouch passed through Montgomery from a tta vanah bank to New York containing $40, UU0. When the pouch reached Montgom ery, wnich agent, Nathan Maroney, gave a receipt lor the money to the messenger. But wheu the pouch reached New York the package of money was gone, and a square hole as clean cut as -f made by a razor, was in the side of tho bag, ooncealed fro n the public by tie outer pocket of the pouch. At first it was supposed that this was the work of a messinger. E ich of a dozen messengers were examined, question* J aud watched. But to no purpose. Finally, Mr. Bangs went to the Georgia bank aud had another parcel made of exactly the same size as the missing one, The hag was then produced and the package would cot pass thiough the bole, it must therefore have been taken from the pouch before it was sealed at Montgomery, The only man tli at nad access to it up to this time had borne character, for sobriety, propriety, and fru gality. Nothing was said to him of the suspicions, but he was watched. A detec tive secured employment in the office aud a female detective entered his house as a dressmaker, But in spite o': all the watch nothing important was ascertained, it was learned, however, that he had bet heavily upon horse races, aud was a part owner in horse; but there was nothing crimi nating in that. Fortuuateiy, the bank had the denomination of nearly all the bills in ihe forty thousand dollar package, and Maro ney's expenditures but none ot the stoleu money Finally, wltbiu a few months, he left ihe employ of the çumpaqy and began travel ing. A detective kept close walck of his movements. He spent money freely, but ot the missing wealth could be dis covered. In (he mean while he sent his young wile to Jenkmville, Poona-, where she had relatives. Tue late Kale Warren, tlie chief of the female department of the ageucy, was sent to board at the saint house. Findiug uoue of the stolen mouey, Bangs became convinced that Maroney had stolen both packages, and was now using the proceeds of the ten-thousand dollar robbery, and was saving the $40,000 for future use. After following him tor ral weeks, Mr. Bangs thought it safe to arrest him ou a civil action to recover the money which it was alleged had been lost through bis carelessness. Tms was done in New York and he was lodged in the Ludlow Street Jail. A month before a de tective was also thrown into the prison a charge of debt. 1 his officer soon ingra liated himself in Maroney'*. favor, and iu five mouths succeeded in gettiug out ot him the statement that he had a large sum of money. On a plea of being able to suit him to a fortuue through ooltnn specu lations, the detective obtained a note from him to his wife telling her to give him a "book," which Maroney had previously explained to her meant the package of money. According to the arrangements, the detective met Mrs. Maroney on a lonely country road at mght, but the wife had oonsulted with her uncle who was ac quainted with the thett, and refused to give up the ''Dock.'' The detective urged so strongly, however, that she concluded to ask the udvioe of her female frleud. This advice, it a needless io add, secured the money to the officer. Ouly $500 had beeu taken from the parcel. Maroney subsequently taken to Montgomery convicted, lie did not know, however, of the evidence against him or the recovery of the money until the officer walked into the court room and took the witness chair. .'er office, the local of on Maroney, who, excellent to at so in his to a the the caret ully traced, found. We read in an exouauge of a young lady having leen unde crazy by a sud den kiss. This should teach young ladies to bo constantly expeoting some thing of that kind, aud to be prepared for it when it comes. Ou Mouday last a fine horse, valued at $1,500, belonging to Adam Forepaugb, lue well knowu circus mauager, broke bis lug at JcnkmtowQ and had to be killed. A sufficient reason : "Dumley," said a fneud, admiringly, "1 believe yoa are a Yes?" replied Dumley, straighteuing himself aud trying hard uot to appear too dare devilish, "aud why do you thiuk so? ' "Because you so rarely take them off wheu you go to bed." An Illinois correspondent states that experience has t mght him that cattle will thrive better on good, bright Hax straw, than on oat or wueat straw,and he never knew of oattle being injured from eating it. to die with your boots on had Stained Ulaee. The glass used in this work is of many grades and qualtities. Glass of varying thickness is much used for giving lighter or darker shades. The glass is heated to a red heat and is then punched by various tools, pressed by dies, squeezed into ridges, or rolled over an uneven surface. In this man ner the glass is so prepared that the same effects of light and shade are pro duced as by hand painting, and tli blending of the shades is more harmo nious. In addition to the better effec thus produced, when the light is shin ing through the glass, the reflection of light from the uneven surface of the glass, when the light is shining from within, reveals the form of the design clearly, and yet the color varies as the light strikes upon the raised surface from different angles. Another new method of treating glass, or rather a mod ideation of an old method, is to paint "flashed" glass with acids, in stead of etching the glass as formerly. By this new method the work has a more picturesque look. A design is sometimes painted with acids on the colored side of the glsas The color is thus removed, and stained glass of an other color or shade is placed behind it to produce the proper shade or combi nation. The old Venetian style for the production of "marbled" glass is also coming into more general use. In this work shreA or bits of different colored glas.« are placed upon the table on which the glass to form the plate is poured while Jt is in liquid form. As the glass cools it Is rolled and pressed in the usual manner to force these bits into it. Another style much in demand is known as "granulated" glass, and is made in France. This glass is very heavy, and one side is roughened, pre senting a surface appeaarance like sand-paper. Wiien held to the light, it resembles ground glass, but the col ors are rich and warm. Another new style of material is known as "cracked" glass. This is made in large circular sheets. As these sheets cool after moulding, they are placed upon a cable having a slight depression in the cen tre, and the glass is pressed down into this hollow, producing the effect of msny small seams or cracks running through the glass in various direc tions. There has never been any special rage for one particular color or shade, since the "blue glass consumption cure" fever broke out about seven years ago. Many dealers say that they still have a considerable demand for blue glass from people who place great faith in the theory that the rays of light shining through the glass are beneficial to persons suffering from various plaints. The manufacturer and de signer, from whom the greater part of the information here given tained, said that he had many calls for blue glass from people who had been advised to use it by well known phy sicians in this oitv. lery the he the in able for ted a for the an to a of his I to ob Th« Bridie« a Failure. A letter trom Brooklyn, says: The Brooklyn bridge Is a failure, and the people of New York and Brooklyn re cognize It as such. Of course it is a grand piece of engineering—it is simply magnificent by day and night, but it doesn't fill the wants of the people. Between 5.30 and 7 a. m., and the same hours at night, thousands of the joorer people use the bridge in coming rom Brooklyn to their work and re turning home again, but the vast mass of the people cross by ferry. It is no fault of the bridge that people do not use it, but on anything save a pleasant calm day the elements make a walk over the structure very unpleasant il not really hazardous. A slight breeze on earth means a hurricane on the bridge. During a blow on Sunday a woman crossing had a very narrow es cape from serious injury. The wind oanght her clothes and sent her whirl ing almost over the fence dividing the promenade from the cable-car tracks. And this is merely one of hundreds of similar incidents reported. To be sure there are cable-cars running on the bridge, but they mighty uncertain in their time of go ing. Bo. all things considered,a person going to Brooklyn from the New York city hall can make time by cutting down Fulton street and taking the old ferryboats. There is but one thing to do. Quit fooling with the impractica ble cable cars, running by friction wheels on elevated cables—and run trains of four to ten cars ovor the bridge by the small, almost noiseless locomo tives. aud make the fare 3 cents. While discussing rapid transit, the elevated roads show a queer state of affaira. When first opened to the pub lic the elevated roads were popular be cause of their novelty, and the news papers began to yell "Tue horse-cars must go." Well, they did and do, and liable to continue going, though not in the sense the newspapers meant. The elevated roads at first struck a severe blow at the surface roads, and frightened the small stockholders of the latter dass into giving up their hold ings, which were promptly gobbled by the big fish, and they in turn bought heavily of elevated stock, so that to day both systems of roads are virtually owned by the same men, and whatever they may lose out of their left baud they grab hack with their right. Oue thing accomplished by the elevated roads is the forcing of the surface com panies to put stoves in the cars. Ou the Third avenue line the stoves will be in zinc boxes, on the middle of the seat, in the ceutre of the car. few in number and w jotiug Gallery Tragedy. A Every eveuing the covered cartway Leading to the coal yard m the rear cf No. 484 Sixth Avenue, New York, is trausformed into a shooting gallery and as such is used all night by Thomas Mof fat aud bis assistant. At 2 o'clock yes terday morniug, while the Sixth Avenue danoiug halls uoemau he still orowde l. a po summoned to the gallery who said that his friend had t.y a been accidentally shot in the place. On the floor near the oounter from which shots fired, lay a well-dressed insensible and bleeding from bis forehead. Over young a bullet wdhud i him a young woman beut and cried in a frantic way:—"Oh Oharlio speak to mel" At her side was a rifla-looking girl who wept and moaned in sympathy. The jHdioc recognized the young women as Jennie Mitchell and Alice Sinclair. They said that the wouuded Charles M. Sams assistant purser of the steamship Naceochee, ot the Savaunah line, and that he had beeu shot by dent. Charles Hardman, a youth who in oh&rge ot the gallery, said tuat , bat unintentional. Jennie Mitchell had shot tue he thought the act The policeman procured a stretcher aud had Sams carried to the Thirtieth street polio* station while he arrested the wo and Harri man An ambulance man oonveyed Sams to the Now York Hoa hours later pital, where he died without recovering consciousness. The story told by Harnman was that entered the gal Hams and another lery with the women, and Sams fired three shots from a Ballard rifle of twen ty-two calibre. The men were under the influence of liquor but tho women were sober. After shooting at a pipe with success, Bams offered to bet Jennie Mitchell $6 that she oonld not hit the pipe. Bhe did he insisted and showed her how to hold the rifle. As she appeared awkward in its use, he bantered her. They were laughing and she turned towards him to say:—"Now let me alone," and as she want to shoot but discharged and turned the rifle Bams fell to the floor. Bhe seemed un able to nndeistand what had happened for a time, and then she became frantic with grief. The young with Bams tried to lift Lim from the floor. Then he said he would go for a polioeman and he was not place again. Alice Sinclair made a si milar statement to Harrimau's. Jennie Mitchell said she had known Bams for about four years. Bhe had met him while visiting in Savannah and he waa ted her to marry him. He was a clerk there at the Lime. She afterwards fre quently met him. who was in tue Pet Dog Fashion». said a little girl to "Do you know, a reporter, "that I have eight costumes for my little terrier Fhlnnie and he looks real pretty in all of them?" "Why, what in the world do you want with so many, and what do you mean by costumes for a dog, the astonished reporter. "Every girl that has a dog has cos tumes for them," said the little girl in an injured tone, "and costume means dress. I thought you were big enough to know that." "Oh," said the reporter; "won't you describe the costumes to me?" Baid the little girl. a iked "Certainly, "His best one for Sunday afternoon walks is made of navy-blue bioadcloth, lined with scarlet satin, with straps of alligator skin aud bows of crimson Ot toman ribbon—you know he wears a bow on his tail and a collarette bangle of silver, with new tive-cent piece charms. On some of them name, on others a prayer or hymn. Then if it is nice and clean out I tie bows of scarlet ribbon on his front paws, but he isn't exactly trained good and he bites them. Well, then he has his reception costume that be wears on mamma's reception days, when he and I sit m the drawing room and help to receive the guests. That is perfectly lovely. It is made out of a piece of my sister's wedding dress, cream white satin, and is lined with pale-blue silk. The edges are embroidered in silver, and in the centre is gram in silver also. 1 had a train made it first, but Pbinnie would make himself dizzy turning round and round to catch It. Bo I had it removed. As ornaments he wears a gold chain with a clasp aud pale blue ribbons on his front paws." "He must look lovely!" said the re porter. "Does he catch rats?" you be so cruel montion such a thing?" arid the little girl. inouo to "How "You must have the handsomest dressed dog iu the city," said the re porter. "No, I haven't," she said reluct antly. "There's a young lady across the way who has a sealskin wrap for her spaniel, and I kuow another one that has a diamond collar." "Oh, I forgot to ask—does your dog paiutand powder?" said the journalier. "Well, I never 1" said the little girl, in accents of astonishment. The fact is that going West has ceased to be the serious undertaking that it w r as twenty years ago. There are yet hardships to be encountered, of course, and it requires industry and economy to accomplish anything; but it is longer a flight into tlie desert and a farewell to civilization. Some of the luxuries of life must be dispeusod w»ith for a season, but all necessary comforts and conveniences within reasonable reach, and the luxuries never fail to come along as soon as the conditions for their enjoyment are provided. A man cannot succeed there or auywliere else unless Ue is willing to strive aud save aud study to iuvest his time aud his gains to the best advantage. But he need not make a slave of himself ; he need not destroy his health, and he need not miss a fair measure of happiness. still abundant The opportunities aud inviting, notwithstanding the great number of people who have goue West since the war, aud it is quite probe, bl a that the lmmigratiou will not stop unreclaimed prairie remains long aud men continue to liave pluck and enterprise enough to chauge their resi dence for the sake of bettering their prospects. Now that the Eughsh people have done so much to stem the evil of iu temperauce in the use of alcoholic liquors, they are devoiing their atteu tion to iulemperauce in other things. One ot these things is tea-dnuking, concerning which there is siderable agitation iu England, large meeting in Loudon, tlie otner day, the Dean of Baugor spoke of the necessity of good cooking, aud arraigned severely the pernicious practice of drinking tea. This practice, he said, renewed three or four times a day, made men and women feel weak, aud the result was that the tea kettle weiit before the gin-bottle, and the physical and uervous weakness which had its origin iu tlie bad cookery of an iguoraut • wife euded in ruin, intemperance and disease. COll At a a Baku up the leaves and put them on the strawberry bed. Do uot let them blow arouud the place, but the hot beds.for banking up around the cellar walls or for bedding. them i