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Idaho news. (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1887-1891, July 04, 1891, Image 6

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Five years ago I was in Naples, dis
guised as a Franciscan friar.
I was tracking or endeavoring to
track, Pietro Malasso for a peculiarly
atrocious and mercenary murder com
mitted in one of the upper wards of
New York City several months previ
ous, and who was known to have re
turned to his native Italy only a few
months thereafter, probably to re
sume the life of brigandage in which he
was said to have engaged before his
brief migration to America.
After several days spent in diligent
but unsuccessful search, I was stand
ing one afternoon at the court entrance
of my modest hotel in the Strada
Kuo va, gazing upon a curious scene.
The crowds in the street, on the
neighboring quays, and even in the
sourt corridors behind me. were great
ly excited over the next drawing of
the Italian National Lottery, to take
place two days hence.
This is a periodical frenzy with the
Italians Every device is resorted to,
every superstition ransacked, for the
lucky numbers. Dream-books are in
demand, nonsensical signs consulted,
and astrologers reap their harvest.
The Neapolitans are especially in
sane on the subject, and among other
idiocies, as I was subsequently to
learn, are fully convinced that the gift
of prophesy is vested in certain per
sons—the Franciscan friars in partic
ular, as being benevolent, and having
■"the lucky eye."
While thus occupied, I chanced to
be making a mental computation of
the distances from city to city that I
niig'^be eventually compelled to cov
er in pursuit of my fugitive, and doubt
less fell to muttering some of the nu
merals aloud.
Presently I felt a tug at my clothing
and turned to perceive a handsome
young woman, with her fat baby in
her arm, kneeling at my feet, while
several of her companions were group
ed near by, gazing at me in rapt ex
"Ah," she exclaimed, imploringly,
"the lucky numbers—give them to me,
for the love of Heaven! See! even my
little Anatole here reaches out beceeeh
uig hands to thee, infant that he is, he
.knows that thou canst make us rich.
The numbers, father, the numbers!"
"Nonsense!" I exclaimed, half angri
ly. "I know nothing of luck or ill
luck. Away, or I shall he seriously
displeased! Stay, then, Here—a bless
ing on thy little"Antole!"
And'touching the child's forehead, I
sought to make my escape back into
•.the hotel.
But so persistent were they all, this
was not affected without difficulty;
and in the meantime I cursorily noted
among my tormenters another and
yet handsomer women standinggrave
ly apart from the rest, and observing
tne with quiet earnestness.
I heard her addressed by some one
as Nita, and had only time to remark
that there was something of the gipsy
or rustic in her dress and bearing,
when I at last succeeded inbeatingmy
"Yes. sir; it must have been extreme
ly annoying to you," sympathizingly
observed my landlord, when I told
him all about it.
And he eyed me with a faint smile
and a growing wildness of the eyes.
"Well, what is it?" I demanded, be
ing impatient for an hour of quiet in
my pleasant balconied chamber over
looking the blue waters of the peerless
bay. "If you are anxious about my
bill, make it out at once, and"
"No, no, no!" he exclaimed, grasp
ing me by the arm, his eager black
eyes fairly boring into my head.
"Peste! enjoy my poor accommoda
tions at your pleasure; it is nothing.
But"—his voice sinking to a confiden
tial whisper—"if you could favor me
with the lucky numbers of the next
drawing—ah, what slavish service
might you not exact at my hands!"
<i broke away from him indignantly,
and retired to my room without
vouchsafing him a word, lest my an
*er should betray me.
After supper that evening a waiter
brought me word that a distressed
young woman was in t he outer court
anxiously waiting a few words with
Fra Ambrogio—my assumed name.
I went down and found, to my sur
prise, that the person awaiting me
was the gravely handsome young
peasant woman whom I had heard
id dressed as Nita.
Her story, told with tears in her
rves, was a brief and pathetic one:
Her brother, Guiseppi, was lying at
home fatally stabbed it was fetched.
and I must go with lier to him at
once, inasmuch as she was quite sure
that J might keep oil the destroyer's
I accompanied lier at once.
It was after nightfall as I followed
lier unsuspiciously into an old, dreary
looking building, where, in a large,
squalid chamber, upone flight of stairs,
she indicated a pallet, on which lay a
large, bearded man, apparently near
his last gasp, the figure motionless, the
pale, set face upturned to the rnys of
an iron lamp hanging from the centre
of the grimy ceiling.
"Giuseppi, do not despair!
my conductress, clasping her hands.
''See, I have brought a good Francis
can! It is theFra Ambrogio, and heis
of 'the lucky eye'!"
I signed her to silence, and wasbend
ing over the pallet, when I was unex
pectedly seized from behind.
The room was suddenly filled with
villainous-looking armecisnen, and in
an inst ant I found myself pinioned and
gagged securely, while a low, exultant
faugh rippled from the young woman's
lips, and the seeming dying man start
ed from the pullet, as lusty and live
looking a beetle-browed rascal as could
be found anywhere.
"Be not uneasy," grinningly remark
ed a brawny 'tatterdemalion, who
seemed tobe in chief authority. "No
harm shall come to you if you are
He then waved his hand, and I was
carried away, after being blindfolded.
I feit myself being borne downstairs,
and then thrust into some sortof con
veyance. Word was given, there was
a scramble of hoofs, and then I was
being jolted alougover the rough lava
pavements of tne narrow, steep and
sinuous streets peculiar to the quar
ex awhile the way grew smoother,
but still steep —now up, now down—
and from the increased coolness of the
air I realized that we were out of the
city, and even beyond the suburbs,
among the wild mountain roads of
the interior.
If I had been in any doubt as to the
object of my abduction, it would soon
have been dissipated by the conver
sation of the rascals who were still
with me.
I was in the clutch of mountain bri
gands, with the design of securing or
forcing from my supposed prophetic
lips the winning numbers of the ap
proaching lottery drawing.
And, after a little reflection, I resol
ved to make the best of my unique pre
dicament, in the faint hope that it
might assist me upon my secret quest.
After three hours' hard traveling we
reached the brigands' cave, were the
gag and hoodwink were removed, and
I was at once questioned as to the
winning numbers, in the glare of torch
es and surrounded by a dozen or more
of the miscreants—Including fair but
treacherous Xita—the greater number
of whom must have made their way
thither on foot.
I not only protested that I had no
revelations to make, but indignantly
berated them for the disrespect to my
They laughed or cursed my responses
to scorn, while the muscular scoundrel
who seemed to be their leader, and
whom they addressed as 'signor,'
shrugged his shoulders philosophically.
"Time enough," lie said. "You can
think over our modest request during
the night."
My bonds were then partly loosen
ed. and I was thrown into a dirty
little dungeon-like cave, where, with
such sleep as I could obtain, I was
kept under guard until daylight.
They then hauled me out, placed me
in their midst, and, while they regaled
themselves with bread and wine, asked
me, with mock solicitude, if I was not
hungry. I replied in the affirmative.
"Good!" said their leader. "Impart
to us the winning figures, and you
shall share with us of the best; other
wise you starve."
Having already studied their faces
severally without discovering one that
might belong to my fugitive, of whose
personal appearance I was provided
with a pretty thorough description, I
again insisted that I had nothing to
My bonds were tightened afresh,and
I was once more cast into thedungeon.
Similar treatment was repeated at
noon, and I persisted in holding out
against it, though by this time really
faint from hunger.
"Time flies, and is therefore prec
ious," observed the leader, frowning
angrily, and at the same time picking
his teeth with a stiletto. "Look you,
now—we are very poor, and those
winning figures are indispensable to
us. One more chance will be afforded
you to reveal them through this
means." He pointed to the food and
wine they were again discussing among
them. "Should you still prove stub
He twirled the stiletto in one hand,
while significantly scratching one of
his ears with the other, whereupon his
subordinate ruffians burst into a
savage laugh.
"It is only just," cried Nita. "To
be crop-eared will be no worse than to
be tongue-tied. If Pietro were here,
he would agree with me."
The italicised words were a new hope
to me as they once more thrust me in
to the lagged rock cell, with their
curses and brutal laughs, not neglect
ing to add a thump or kick or two at
When I was again dragged forth by
my tormentors at sunset, I was very
faint, and so hungry that I might have
eaten a side of beef, but my heart
gave a secret leap of joy.
Pietro Malasso was now among
them. I recognized him from the de
scription in an instant; and from the
intimate relations that seemed to
exist between, them, I doubted not
that he was Nita's husband.
I still persisted in my ignorance,
however, not only with the tempting
food and wine again under my nose,
but until they had thrown me down,
and the leaders sharp stiletto was al
ready tickling my left ear as a begin
ning towards the consummation' of
his threat.
Then I made a great pretence of
weakening at last.
"Hold on, signor!" I cried. "Give
me sustenance, and I will try to satis
fy you."
Instantly I was unbound,even cares
sed, and with the best that, they could
offer before me, handsome Nita especi
ally exerting herself to make amends
with lier most brilliant smile and nu
merous little womanly attentions.
My appetite was huge, and when I
had thoroughly satisfied it to the full,
I spoke to them like a Dutch uncle, as
the old saying goes.
"It is only on certain conditions,"1
then said, "that I can surrender this
secret to you, my friends."
"Name them, Fra Ambrogio!" cried
the leader, whose name I had by this
time discovered to be Lazanetto.
"First, instantly on my imparting
the five figures constituting the win
ning combination, I must be escorted
back to my hotel in the Strada
Nuovo; and in return I shall promise
to say nothing to the authorities of
these indignities you have put upon
"Agreed!"observed Lazanetto, com
posedly. "I shall myself be your es
cort, and you shall return as you
came—-by coach and pair. You see"
—with a really engaging smile—
begin to like you very greatly,
for theauthorities—pish!" he snapped
his fingers contemptuously.
A »
"Second," I continued, "it will be
indispensable that the person pur
chasing and presenting the magic num
bers for to-morrow's drawing should
be peculiarly stamped upon his flesh
the holier the better."
"Ah!" cried the leader, with gusto,
"I rather think I am the man."
Arid he bared his brawny arm to
the shoulder, displaying thereon an
inscription in India-ink tattoo.
"Not so fast, captain!" exclaimed
another. "I can beat that, I fancy."
Aud stripping his own arm, he re
vealed a villainously designed tattoo
mark in different colors.
There was an eager baring of arms
and bosoms all around, this custom
of tatooing being a favorite one
among the mountaineers.
I shook my head dissatisfiedly, and
then fixed my eyes on Pietro Malasso
with what I intended for a mysterious
and prophetic look the man having
hung back from the others, notwith
standing that Nita was apparently
urging him to a similar display in a
low voice.
At last, apparently yielding with
much reluctance, he tore open his
shirt, revealing a very creditable de
sign done in sepia and oink tints on
his breast—the very distinguishing
mark by which I would be enabled to
identify him as the fugitive murderei.
And closing my eyes in a rapt at
titude, I called out at haphazard,
though jerkingly, and with an appear
ance of occult prompting, these five
numbers: "2. 13, 24, 26, 73."
A shout of jubilation arose from the
miscreants, who evidently regarded
the lottery prizes already won.
Malasso was regarded as a particu
larly favored individual; and I at
once set forth on my return to Naples
under their leader's special escort, as
had been promised.
But apart from the particular re
sult I was aiming for, a wholly unex
pected and most remarkable develop
ment was destined to evolve out of
this strange adventure.
The . National Lottery of Italy is
based on the old game of "lots."
There are ninety numbers, and one
can stake on one. two, three, four, or
five of them, any sum, from one franc
to a thousand, being paid pro rata of
the numbers coming out.
Once safe in my hotel apartment, I
discarded ray Franciscan garb for my
proper habiliments, and at once com
municated the result of my adventure
to the chief of the Neapolitan police,
with whom I had previously made
myself and my mission acquainted,
and who cheerfully promised me his
Then, on ray way back to the hotel,
a sudden impulse seized me, and stop
ping at one of the lottery offices, 1
staked ten francs on each of the num
bers I had given to the brigands.
At the drawing of the following day,
to my utter astonishment, the five
numbers actually did come out, and
I was just ten thousand francs richer.
But at an early stage of the an
nouncements, I had already marked .
Malasso and Nita side by side in the
crowd, while others of the brigands i
were scattered here and there. They
had all doubtless staked heavily on
tha combination, and were wild with
joy in consequence.
I signalled the chief of police and
several of his subordinates, who were
on the alert, and then laid my hand
roughly on my man's shoulder, declar
ing him my prisoner.
His stiletto was in his hand in a
flash, and he turned on me like a tiger,
but I had him down and handcuffs on
him before he could strike a blow.
Nita, no less desperate than he, was
quickly taken in charge while in the
act of clapping a pistol to my head.
.1 then pointed out to the chief of
police several of the brigands, includ
ing Lazanetto, but the official only
shrugged his shoulders, aud decline»!
to make any arrest on his own ac
"Peste! What is the use?" he said,
in his easy going way. "You can
make no criminal charge against them
my friend. All's fair in a lottery, as
in love and war, and the kidnapping
of a bogus Franciscan or two is of
very little account,"
But I had secured my murderer,
and subsequently got him back to
New York, where in due course of
time he was indicted, tried, convicted,
and banged for his crime; and I was,
moreover, just as much richer as has
been indicated in the foregoing.
Nita was left behind, as a matter ol
course, and I have understood that
she afterwards became the wife of
The brigands were in clover, for
none others could have played the
combination so strangely forced out
of me save by the purest chance; and
I have hear»! that the Government
had to pay ten millions of francs on
that one day 's drawing. But as there
was no Fra Ambrogio to give the
fortunate clue thereafter, and as there
was a great run on the lottery the
following week, with a very different
result, the State was enabled to re
coup itself. Altogether it was the
strangest adventure in all my detec
tive experience.
"A1 Burton, the great gambler, who
I see by an article in the Inquirer, has
quit backing his judgement with his
money, is a peculiar man," said a well
known traveling man yesterday. "He
is a great big fellow, over six feet, and
weighing over 200 pounds. One of his
peculiarities is punishing himself
when he loses his money or does any
thing that after-thought suggests to
his mind as foolish. I remember a
story I heard sometime ago. Burton
had been playing faro-bank and ha/1
lost quite a sum of money. He went
to his room, and the man who occu
X>ied the next room declares that he
spentthenight marching up and down,
and at every step swearing at himself
something after this fashion: 'You
thought you knew all about faro,didn't
you? You
what you are,' and so on. Finally, he
laid himself out on the table, folded
his arms and rolled off on the floor.
This is a favorite way he has of
punishing himself, and, being such a
large man, it is doubtless very effect
ive."—Cincinnati Inquirer.
-old fool, that's
& an< ^ e , ver >' eye shall see Him.
i rhat coming closes our day of grace,
if not prepared for his everlnst
blessedness, then there will be no
more sacrifice for sin. The thought
that it will be like a thief in the
night makes the matter the more
awful. How possible that in a short
year, a month, a day, an hour, all
may be forever lost!
To fail to "watch." is as if one
sleep with flames around him; not to
pray, is as if one were on a wreck
and would not call to the sail that ap
pears in the distance!
What are we doing?
Are we looking for our Savior's re
Sot Far Otr—Be liver W*t»hful—A
Hilling Passion--The Soul's Fatih
XIust Not Best—Clouds sud
Sutislilue— Etc-, Etc,
We cannot know the d»y
When God «ball cslt ut from thit world ol
Where sorrow broods, where patsloui enter
Hearts, leading them astrar !
But this we know, desih m»y be very ne»r.
That messenger Iron; God may soon be bere
To summon us sway.
One long, last, quivering sigh.
Then sin's cold grasp will (rom us quickly
And sorrow be tbrown back like some black
While we enraptured He
In angel arms, and with thrills ot delight.
Float on through golden gates, to Hoods ot
Not far off. but closo by.
Close by ! The thought bow sweet !
No weary struggling through unfatbomed
space ! •
No wild, exhausting efforts towards the
Where glory Is completel
But, like the thief, the very day wc die,
Our souls to paradise will swiftly dy.
Our precious Lord to meet.
— .sophia l.. bchenek. in Cbr. Evangelist.
There is one point, having a direct
bearing on every person's highest in
terests, which sboutd be sacred iy kept
in view by all. That is, that the pe
riod of our existence here, usually
called "this life," is a perici of pro
bation. a time of trial, for another
and a settled state of being. This
'•life," then, is nothing more nor less
than the practical determination of
that awful next. Here we work out
Hero we
weave the strong, enduring web of
unending happiness, or the black, sol
emn. direful pall of never-ceasing bit
terness and despair.
Oh! what a solemn period is this
short life!
Whatawfut issues hang on a few
short years!
What a dreadful thing it Is to lead
a sinful existence in this world!
We have here some directions how
to improve this period—by watchful
ness and prayer.
Our life here is to end, but at what
time is uncertain. This makes it
prudent to be always on the alert.
We must prepare by being wakeful
and constant in prayer. We must
allow no strangeness between God
and ourselves.
Praying men are atw-nys blest.
Christ is coming again. We are to
meet Him.
everlasting destiny!
He will sit on His throne to judgo
when He shall appear in power and
Are we waiting and watching?—
Christian at Work.
A Killing I'a<i*ion.
Aside from the insurmountable cir
cumstances that control our lives or
"the divinity that shapes our ends,"
more men are led through life by in
clination and passion of some sort,
than are self-moved by will or intellect,
in the accomplishment of character.
The latter faculties nro, for the most
part, exercised by ordinary men m»-rc
ly ns the moans of attaining some
temporary possession, some ephemeral
heart's desire, rather than to achieve
such permanent good as sober judg
ment approves. Only a few lofty
souls are guided by pure reason
alone in the whole conduct of their
lives. Such sublime men, although
too frequently maltreated by their
contemporaries, are likely however to
have their work,—when allowed to be
done according to their designs,—ul
timately appreciated by the race, and
themselves sometimes to be classed
god-like. They form strong attach
ments among the pure and the just,
and exalt friendship to something al
most divine.
But even among higher natures,
generally speaking, love of power
leads the most strong, lovo of fame
the more sympathetic, love of wealth
the ordinary, while love of pleas
ure—sometimes innocent, sometimes
debasing—dominates the character of
a great many who possess ample abil
ities to achievo either power, fame
wealth, but who prefer what they
gard as philosophic ease, or what may
in fact be enervating luxury, or
degrading vice,
also—natural or artificial—when long
fostered, has very much to do in de
termining the choice of paths in life
by some men. Hut on the whole and
in the long run—aliliough often
known to us until too late to change
some ruling passion, of mind or heart,
either elects or materially shapes
chief purposes, and our persistent
ways of life.—Home Journal.
Early inclination
■ » »
To H« « Good Neighbor.
To be a roally good neighbor de
mands the possession of many excel
lent qualities—tact, tempor, discern
ment and consideration for other
ple's feelings; and, if wo possess nil,
or some of these qualities, innumer
able and never-ending are tho benefit»
we may confer on each other, and
groat deal of pleasure will be the re
sult. But, because we are neighbors,
we need not necessarily be dose
friends. We may be friendly enough
to enjoy the pleasure of doing them
little kindnesses and receiving the
same in return. Being kindly disposed
to all by no means implies that our
house is to be open from morning till
night to visitors. The typically good
natured person, who is at every one's
beck and call, is likely to be greatly
imposed upon and to please no one
really; one must be able to say "No,"
and to decline being made use of by
every one.— N. V. Ledger.
ltellglous Notes.
Next to Paris, New York Is the
largest Catholic city in the world.
The Methodist church needs 1,000
new preachers every year to keep its
pulpits supplied.
They are about to begin on their
long talked of $5,000,000 Episcopal
cathedral in New York city.
New York, according to the best
judges, now basa Hebrew population
of from 225.000 to 250,000 souls. It
is the center of Judaism of the world.
A fourteen-year-old girl who was
sworn as a witness in a Camden. N.
J., murder ease suid she had never
seen a bible before she entered the
court room.
The greatest number of Lutheran
ministers in any one state are to bo
found in Pennsylvania. That state
has 745. and Illinois, which comes
next, has 469. with 452 in Wisconsin
and 428 In Minnesota.
Tha Heart.
The heart's youth does not pass, so
long us its purity nnd innocence ro
ll hearts by the
main. We sear our
cherishing of sentiments wo are di
rected to expel; we become dis»-on
teuted nnd call our discontent knowl
edge; we forget that all knowledge
which does not increase our happiness
is spurious and not to bo trusted.
How strong are the heart's first strug
gles under sorrow; how it battles with
distress aud wars against despair and
disappointment; how vigorous its ef
forts to combat and overcome; but
sorrow is the stronger—ay. sorrow i»
the stronger
heart by the first breath that we in
hale of this world's air—a small seed,
but still it grows and grows, and twists
and twists, until it crushes the poor
heart; and then, then we die!— N. Y.
it is drawn into the
Th* Soul** fr'atth Muxl IUii.
Although the tired body must have
rest; although the overtaxed brain
must have the strain lifted off for n
while; although the mind must have
changes of subject and refreshment,
yet we remember thnt there is no va
cation for the service of the soul, that
our "Christian living." our "Master's
service," must go right on ail the
time, whatsoever the season, where
soever we are placed. Blessed bo hi*
name! there's to be found it constant,
an everyday renewal of our strength,
a divine feeding and refreshing of
these souls, a wonderful variety givis.i
to our service, a marvelous adaptabil
ity of kind nnd amount of service re
quired of each one so that fatigue
never »-ornes to the soul from any
overwork for Christ.—Buffalo Chris
tian Advocate.
fit« MtMllRlor.
If man is to become connected with
God It is through Christ. Jesus says.
"I am tiie way. the truth, and the
life; no man cometh unto the Father
but by me." John 14:6. And an apos
tlo bears witness concerning Jesus,
that "neither is there salvation in any
other; for there is none other name
under heaven given among men where
by wo must be saved." Acts 4:12.
He who denies Christ rejects the plan
ordained of God to save men, and
hence rejects God.
Conscience is the voice of the soul;
the passions are the voice of the body.
—J. J. Rousseau.
Modesty is to worth what shadows
are in a painting; she gives to it
strength and relief.— La Bruyère.
True repentance has a double
aspect; it looks upon things pnst with
a weeping eye. and upon tho future
with a watchful oyc.—South.
Ftmr 1*1 nk«.
Give me those links: first, sense to
need; second, desire to get; third, be
lief that, though Ho withhold tot
awhile, lie loves to he nske»i, and,
fourth, belief that asking will obtain
—give mo theso links and tho chni
will reach to heaven, bringing nil
heaven down to me. or bearing me up
into heaven—Dr. Guthrie.
4'o»i»»rcrat<iil by Deoils.
No man can work effectually in the
Lord's vineyard without consecration,
and no man can enjoy tho grace ol
consecration who does not work the
best he can in the Lord's vineyard._
Texas Baptist and Herald.
Tran'C"itclhig th« l)iirkn«M.
When under affliction tho light ol
all joy goes out and darkness broods
over the soul, look up. and you will
see the stars of God's nrotr.iso* glow
ing in the skies.—Texas Baptist nnd
A Word from Hpiirgonn.
Sin kisses, but kills.
It is a sweei
poison. Like a glittering sword it is
brightness to tho eye, and doath to
tho heart.
Tli« llosr OlrU.
Ethel—"Don't you like those sofa*
that have just room enough for two?"
Maud—»Of es. but I like those that
have hardly room onough for two far
better.''—Munsoy's Weekly.
Tweed As Ah Sin
There recently died in Chicago an
old colored man named Joe Owens.
At the time of his death he was head
bellman at the Lelaud Hotel in that
city. Years ago when Tweed was in
his glory, Joe was employed in the
Delevan House, Albany. There used
to be some heavy poker-playing in
that hotel during those lively times,
nnd Tweed's room was generally the
headquarters of the game. Joe was a
great favorite with Tweed, as indeed
lie was with most of the "high rollers"
at the capital. Tweed had Joe made
the special guardian of his room, and
no one could ever get in there if Joe
said no.
The old darkey happened to step
into the apartment one evening when
than ordinary big game was
in progress. In front of a man named
Shepard was a stack of chips repre
senting $5,000. Joe was an inveterate
Kicker-player himself in those days,
le and the other colored boys having
a game going on most of the time in
in their quarters, and when he saw
that heap of money his eyes fairly
bulged out of his head.
"Foh de Lawd. but I wish I was in
dat w game," said Joe with a gasp. A
thought came to Mr. Shepard. He
sent Joe downstairs on some errand,
anil during his absence a "cold deck"
was run in and fixed for the darky s
special benefit. When Joe came bock
Mr. Shepard asked him to play a
hand or two for him while I» went
out. Joe with his heart beating high,
took his seat and began to play.
When two or three hands had been
passe» 1 Joe was startled at getting
tour aces.
He trembled all over; but just then
Mr. Shepard returned and. looking
over his shoulder, said: "Go for them,
Joe; go for them," J I
[>td out of the game,
raising, while Joe encouraged by Mr.
Shepard, raised him every time until
the darky had piled the $5,000 in the
centre of the table.
Then Tweed called him. and Joe,
his eyes fairly gleaming with wild ex
citement, threw down his four a»*«-*,
while he reached for the money, say
a more
did go for
Everybody but Tweed drop
lie kept oil
••What you got dah. Maws Tweed?"
"Four aces." said the boss, coolly
laying them down.
"Ko' aces!" cried Joe. "Fo' lires'
'Fore de Ijiwd, Massa Tweed, how
can you hab fo' ace*'.'"
Tiie garni, hu-s had had their fun, and
had seen JWe
excited. They wer»
reaily to go on with their own game,
so Shepard shoved a hundred-dollnr
lull into Jo»-'» hands and thrust lum
out into the iinll, saying "Get out
of here you black scamp' You talk
about playing poker, ami you don't
know there are eight aces in a poker
Get out!"
A blind rid »iolinrs at any other
time would have made Joe supremely
lilted with the tug play
sen having and knocked
out by the reeult, he forgot his Wealth
in hi* abject misery ami mortifica
happy, but,
he hail just l
Character in the Thumb.
Determination i» shown by tin«
thumb. whi»-h is a Ktuily in itself, its
three joints representing tin- three
lowers which rule tiie worbl—I/Ove,
jogic, an»l Will. The tiiiril joint, sur
mounted by tin- Mount of Venus, is.
ns its name stntos. dedicated to Love;
the second, rising from tiie mount to
the first joint, shows laogic, or its ale
»cnee; anil the first phalange, ending
in the nail, declares the force forth
coming to shape sin-i-ess or fortune.
Want ot length between the nail and
the first joint of the thumb tells of
weakness, which often explains how
brilliant ehnm-es marke«! by lines on
the palm have been allowed to slip
through feeble fingers. Only in a clev
er hand, wncre finger-tips nro pointed,
and their first phalanges li. *., joints|
long, is this short-topped thumb de
sirable. In this combination it* weak
ness is but, thnt of all imaginative
genius—inability to cop* with the
rough realities of daily life. With
clever hands the short first phalange
tells of inspiration and creative facul
ty, and in ench cases a long second
phalange to the thumb denotes a ten
dency to see things from all points of
view, which makes life difficult, but,
composition easy; for such people ran
so put themselves in sympathy with
nil sorts and conditions of men that
t hey will paint them to the life, whet lier
with pen or pencil. Persons whose
thumbs show a long, broad, thick,
and coarse-looking first phalange,
while the second is short and insignifi
cant, are ohstinnte to pigheadedneas;
but when both phalanges are of equal
length, they show the man qui ira loin,
his determination living bused on the
calmest, clearest logic, and carrie»l
out by an unfaltering will.—The lion.
W. U. 1). Forbes, in Now Review,
Her Dreadful Ordeal.
She came into tho room, where he
sat alone, with a glittering knife in her
clinched hand amid the folds of her
Her face was white and drawn, and
her eyes were wild mid hnggurd-look
He, the man whose name she bore,
sat by the grat e fire, deep in thought,
and never heard tho slippered footfall
of the beautiful woman, who now
st ood behind his chair with a st range,
cold smile upon her lips.
Suddenly, with a gasp,
knife from tier toward
glowing coals, but it sank silently into
a divan at the other side of the room.
"f cannot," she moaned wearily—
"l cannot!" And she fell in a wliite
heap upon the floor at his feet ."
A pitying, Keleeyefique expression
broke across the Gothic granite of his
cheek, and lie murmured in deep, ten
der, Seventh Regiment tones, "What
is it, my darling?*
Hut she spoke no word, only raised
ono white hand toward him, in which
she clasped a joodpencil.
-She had tried to sharpen it, poot
girl!—New York Mirror.
wîm cant the
the bed of

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