THE SUNDAY OREGONIAN, PORTLAND, AUGUST 13, 1905.
46
Historical Letter From WilliamH.Seward
HIS VIEWS ON THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN 1845, BEFORE PUBLIC
SENTIMENT HAD BEEN CYSTALIZED A & U A & &
AN .OLD letter bearing the postmark
of Auburn, N. T., and addressed
to B. W. Goodwin, Pcnnvllle,
Tompkins County. N. Y., is now in the
possession of Mr. R. LeBarre Goodwin,
a noted artist, briefly sojourning in Port
land. The letter bears date of May 22,
1S45, and is from the pen of Hon. William
H. Seward. It was -written at a time
when the antirslavery sentiment of the
country had begun to crystallize Into or
ganic form for abolition., Tho chief Is
sues of that day as between the "Whigs
and Democrats, however, were those of
slavery extension and the annexation of
Texas. The Whigs opposed annexation
because it was thought to be an act of in
justice to Mexico, and would provoke an
unnecessary war; and for the further
reason that the prime object of annexa
tion was for the purpose of slavery ex
tension. The Abolitionists, who arose
from the ranks of the Wrlg party un
der tho leadership of William Lloyd Gar
rison, Wendell Phillips and others, made
themselves felt in the party movements
of the day.
AlJout that time another element came
to the surface, and was known as the
American party, with James G. BIrney as
Its head. The objects of this new polit
ical factor were tho restriction of for
eign immigration, opposition to Roman
Catholicism, and strictly for American
rule. "America for Americans," was the
slogan of that new party. It, too, was
recruited chiefly from the ranks of the
Whig party, but many of its adherents
were from the Democratic party also. The
attempt to co-operate with the Abolition
ists proved futile; and after a vicissltu
dinous career of ten years, the Amorlcan
party went to the wall in 1854. Theso
evidences of the disintegration of the
Whig party were apparently unperoolvcd
at that time (1815) by the rank and file
of the Whics.
While Mr. Seward was a zealous oppo
nent of slavery, ho was apprehensive of
the attitude of the South. He foresaw
the possibilities of -an "irrepressible con
flict," was desirous to avert any attempt
to disrupt tho Union, and was hopeful that
the integrity of tho Whig party might
also be preserved. He thought that the
Abolitionists were too precipitate and un
methodical; but he favored gradual and
compensated emancipation. He opposed
the position of tho American party, be
cause It favored the annexation of Texas
as an "American Idea," Irrespective of the
position of Mexico or of slavery exten
sion. Mr. Goodwin, to whom this remarkable
old letter was written, was the editor of
on Abolition Journal, and was a co-adjutor
The Sunday Oregonian's Selected
Fiction
(Copyright by the S. S. McCluro Company
HAT is it, Giuseppe," said I,
holiday American or holiday
Italian?"
Giuseppe's fruit stand was -situated at
the principal corner of the suburb where
I make my home a New Jersey village,
about an. hour's ride from New York
and as I passed the establishment regu
larly on my way to and from tho city,
I had come to have some acquaintance
with its proprietor. He was a broad
Bhouldered, athletic young Italian, rather,
taller than the average of his race and
with a trifle more than his share of the
national Jauntiness of bearing. In busi
ness he was truly diligent. Early morn
ing and late evening found him at his
post, and he was an adept at such prac
tices as turning the best side of fruit
outward or pushing the bottom of baskets
Surreptitiously upward.
"What is it, Giuseppe," said I. "holi
day American or holiday Italian?"
Giuseppe smiled, slightly embarrassed,
I thought. "Italian," he answered. His
speech, a cross of native idiom and Amer
ican slang, was invariably brief. How
ever, as if some further explanation were
proper, he added, "Blrt'day."
"Ah," said I, "birthday of the King or
vjtho Queen perhaps?"
"No, signor," replied Giuseppe. "Blrt
flay of friend to me." He regarded me
for a moment out of tho corner of his
eye. "BIrt'day of lady friend," he added,
gently.
This was manifestly an occasion for
congratulations, and I extended them
promptly. But Giuseppe's gaze had grown
distant, and when he returned to me
again to receive the coin due him for tho
fruit I had selected, I saw his brow was
troubled. "World ver hard, dis world,"
Jit said, and sighed deeply.
The course of Giuseppe's love was evi
dently obstructed. I hesitated, and while
I did so, his need of a confidant came
strongly upon him, and he beckoned mo
around to the end of the stand, away
irom passersby. "I show you," ho said.
What ho showed me came from the
breast pocket of his corduroy coat, along
with various fruit invoices and soiled let
ters with Italian stamps on them. It
was an ordinary tintype in a pink paper
cover on which was printed the address
tf a photographer in Naples. Giuseppe
laid it open proudly, disclosing the like
ness of one of those maidens of round
face and trim figure who bloom so plenti
fully in Southern Italy.
My expression of such opinions had the
effect of further loosening his tongue,
and ho told his story. They had played
together, boy and girl, in the Neapolitan
village where they were born, though she.
it appeared, was of a station somewhat
above his own. When she was left an
orphan an uncle had taken1 charge of her
and of her little property. Here Glu
seppe's brow grew black. He, a peasant's
son, had found small favor with the guar
dian.
"He say, 'I want a da mon'!" he hissed
He! A man what you call oh. I not
know. He all time after da mon'. hlda
da mon , swlpa da mon' oft everrabod'l"
"A miser?" I suggested.
"YeB," said Giuseppe, "Miser sure. But
more like what you call oh, snake!
pig'" He squared his shoulders and blew
out a long breath. "Ah, well, Rosa say.
'Go slow.' I go slow. I keepa cool ver
cool. I choke down. I not maka da
scrap. But by by I go back den ah!"
His pantomime garroted the wicked uncle
into conclusive subjection.
However, for the present, the wicked
prospered. Rosa had refused to leave, but
she had secretly promised to wait. Glu
seppe had come away to the land of gold
to earn the money which would give him
the right to demand Tier. So long as she
had written to him regularly he had work
ed on bravely, but for several months
there had been no letters. He knew not
what to believe, he had not yet enough
money to go back, he was despairing;
though today, with his flags and flowers,
he had made an effort to observe the
merry custom of his village, where the
young folk make holiday together as the
"birthday of each comes round. He put
the picture away with another sigh,
"Sure, signor, ver hard world, dls world,"
he said, and would have said more had
not he noticed a possible customer hesl
tating before tho fruit- At this sight his
melancholy fell suddenly from his face
and his face lit up with the affable
smile of commerce.
. Here, then, was a romance, and though
-lt.fifTnfrfl .built on '&Sfiwha&-4a!iT'AxitiAAj
WTMJAM II.
of Thurlow Weed, Horace Greeley and
Gerrett Smith, and bosldes, was a warm
friend of Hon. William H. Seward. This
much in explanation of the subject re
ferred to in the letter hore given:
IiCttcr of W. II. Seward.
AUBURN', Kay 22. lS5.--My Dear Sir:
After receiving your letter of the ICth Inrt.
I was obliged to so away, attending several
The Picture
lines, and its effect was slightly marred
by the ease with which Giuseppe's
thoughts had returned to his business. I
found, in It compensation for over-ripe
bananas, and I reflected as I passed on
that il '.should be pleased to hear xnoro
of it. But the next chapter was several
weeks delayed. In our occasional conver
sations Giuseppo did not alludo to the
subject.
I fancied that during this timo it was
rather in his singing than In speech that
be expressed his feelings. As the even
ings grew colder he used to warm himself
by pacing back and forth before his stand,
and at such times he often sang his
native songs. One of these, more from Its
frequent repetition than its character,
seemed to me to be telling the tale of his
hopes.
It was a common enough song, pallid
and sentimental according to our mock
ing taste, but of the sort in favor among
Italian youth. It may be hoard along the
7t- Cecils
's
'6
7
SEWARD.
successive court?, and have not until now
been sufficiently at leisure to acknowledge
that favor.
I pray you to dismiss from your mind all
concern about tbe petty mischief that aome
native American Journals tried to work out
or tbc publications you made concerning me.
Even If the mischief had taken effect, I should
have found (wtriclent exca for you In the
seaS for the cauae of Liberty and the personal
kindness toward myself by which you were
prompted. But. fortunately, that glorious
and the Pineapples
quays at Naples, and the barbers' ap
prentices in the little New York shops
hum it softly to themselves as they sit
and wait for customers through the dull
afternoons.
So matters stood as I took my way
homo one evening about 11 o'clock, car
rying in my hand a book which I had
bought that day in town. It was one of
the first of a class of publications now
more frequently seen those which give
descriptions of picturesque phases of life.
Illustrated with snap-shot photographs of
actual scenes. This one was called "The
Foreign Quarters of New York," and as
I approached Giuseppe's corner, and saw
him leaning rather listlessly against tho
fruit-stand, it occurred to me that among
the clotures were scvoral taken In the
districts where Italians predominate, and
that height be Interested In them.
His attention was, indeed, courteous,
but he turned the pages, after all, with
only a mild pleasure which did nothing
A
t f
FACSIMILE OF A FABT OF
f- 2f.cJL -a-Cir
cau advances, fast enough to rescue Its ad
vocates, even, from tho consequences of their
own Impetuosity: and my course In, I trust,
ao consistent and so persevering that I am
not likely to Kilter by any misapprehensions.
If there be a fault with the leaders of the
third party. It Is their impatience and Im
petuosity which cannot always abide the de
lay, and caution, without which no great en
terprise can oucoeed. It leads them to pro
pose extreme measures from which the public
mind, half Informed and but partially Imbued
with the spirit of liberty, therefore recolta.
I do not deny that they do good. Even In
temperate seal will produce conviction very
often, and It certainly stimulates the cold and
phlegmatic, whose Interests suffer by reason of
the Indifference. Fully acknowledging the Im
portancethe paramount Importance of the
great question of emancipation. It seems to
me that I am capable of promoting it chiefly
by appealing to three less excitable classes
who shrink from bold laitruetlone. and by
laboring In every way to remove the land
marks of slavery by practicable political
means. In doing this I shall necessarily ex
pose myself to the censure of the more Im
patient as being too slow, and to that of those
who are Indifferent or hostile a being too rad
ical. But these censurea are of no Importance
to the public. The great point Is to preserve
harmony and mutual respect among those
who advocate the- same cause, in manner and
In temper so widely different. My snw of
the Importance of this harmony prevents my
assuaging or accusing- those who act more Im
petuously. If they will not exhibit the same
charity toward me. It Is the common cause
that suffers.
I write in the hurry of a return to iitndles,
after a long absence, briefly, of course But
I shall always bo glad to hear of you and
from you. and shall communicate freely with
you at all timet".
With beet wishes for your prosperity and
the health and happiness of your family. I
remain, very sincerely your constant and
grateful friend. WILLIAM H. SEWARD.
E. W. Good xla. Esq.
William Henry Seward stands In the
foreground of American history as one
of the mist distinguished statesmen. His
type is peculiarly distinctive As a per
sonality ho has no prototype for compari
son. His methods of thought and action
were unlike those of his compeers. Ho
was, essentially, a leader; and up to the
time when ho became Lincoln's Secretary
of State, he had always stood In the fore
front of party movements and councils.
His career was eventful and replete with
memorable Incidents, tho very nature of
which lent great distinction. From early
manhood until the closing years of his life
he figured a3 a conspicuous factor In pub
lic affairs. As a politician he was alert.
tactful and resourceful. As a statesman
ho was farscclng, astute and conserva
tlve. He was adept in diplomacy, and.
abovo all, patriotic and progressive. His
marked ability and his eminent services
entitle him to rank as one of our greatest
National characters.
BY
H. A. CROWELL
to prepare mo for tho excitement with
which he suddenly effervesced.
It was one of the last pictures In the
book a full-page photogravure which
changed his mood. When he came to this
Giuseppe suddenly held the book closer to
his eyes, then at arm's length, then under
the full glare of the gas. A moment later
ho closed It with a bang, placed It under
his arm. and, holding It firmly with his
elbow, began In great hasto to turn out
the lights and put up the shutters.
"Now, Giuseppo." I expostulated,
"would you mind telling mo what has
happened? Or do you always close in
this sudden.wayT'
"No, signor," he answered, shortly.
"Found Rosa." This was Interesting, but
hardly explanatory. One gas burner was
still lighted, and under it ho opened the
book again and pointed to the picture
which had so affected him. It was called
"A Scene in the Italian Quarter." and
showed a typical tenement street of New
s
1 S r-
tjCL .eN-
If
r
WTT.TUX H. SEWARD'S LETTER,
York. In the foreground was a tangle of
push carts, their owners turning their
faces curiously toward tho observer and
shielding their eyes from the glare of the
sunlight. Beyond them a broad archway
opened through & row of battered .puna
Ings, and abovo It a dozen windows
showed. At one of these, three or four
stories above tho street, stood a young
glrL her face and figure fairly distinct.
To this figure Giuseppo pointed. "Rosa!"
said he and turned? out the last light.
I was Inclined to be incredulous. Why
should Rosa, supposed to bo In a village
of Southern Italy, appear In an unauthor
ized photograph on the Island of Man
hattan? Tho girl In the picture, too.
seemed to me a different person from the
maiden of the tintype. The latter was
round-faced and bright-eyed; this one
seemed worn and thin, with the dull.
staring eyes which speak of tho pain and
dejection of the city's depths. Had not
Giuseppe mistaken one Neapolitan, girl
for another? Still, he might possibly be
right. Among the Italians, strong in
love, fierce in hatred, greedy for gain.
stranger things had happened than this
that a girl should be transported ana ill
treated till her eyes grew big. I remem
bered that when I had glanced at the Il
lustrations upon first buying the book
this face had looked out upon mo with a
tragic distinction. "
But Giuseppe had mo by tho arm. I go
to New York." said he. "Will the signor
make for me a favor? Como, too, along?
Come, speaka for me da langawaltch da
United States."
This "was more than I had counted on.
and I made some effort to temporize. "To
New York tonight?" eald I. "What would
you do? Sleep over It make sure. You
can do nothing tonight."
"Do notting?" Inquired Giuseppo sweetly
but with steely eyes. "You fink do not
ting? I seo Rosa in da book, and do
notting? I tell you, I bust hell, but I
get Rosa. Right off, sharp." He stroked
his mustache softly. "Come, den, and
speaka for mo da United State's."
Such faith was Inmresslve. Besides. I
began to think that this Invitation was
not one to be lightly declined. Giuseppe
was evidently going to do something
probably something dramatic. Already
his story as ho seemed to divine had
taken hold on my imagination; here was
a chanco to be present at what might
prove to bo Its climax.
I interposed but one more objection.
Although the book Indicated In a general
way the parts of the city In which the
pictures had been taken, there was now
ing In it to reveal tho exact localities.
It seemed to mo that it might take a
16ng search to Identify the place. I ex
plained this to him.
Ho shrugged his shoulders with the air
of a man whose patience Is at last ex
hausted. "Come." said he. "I know place Seen
him ten twenta flfta times. Arco what
you call da Arch. Come."
We started.
"The Arch" was at that time one of
New York's centers of violence and
crime. A network of squalid alleys,
stretching between two squalid streets,
It had takon Its popular name from tho
fact that It was entered at either side
through an archway cut In tho solid wall
of the houses.
It was after midnight when we reached
the New York side of the river and took
our way through the silent streets afoot.
Wo had gone not far when I was treated
to a slight surprise
We were passing a ccllarway from which
the light shone up, when Giuseppe, catch
Ing-my sleeve to signal me to wait, sud
denly disappeared down the stairs. In a
moment ho was up again, carrying a Jute
bag containing something of considerable
bulk.-
"Alia right." he remarked cheerfully
as he rejoined me. "Gotta dozen pine
apple. Cheapo, place, down stair. Gooda
place, open up all night, all day."
He stopped and drew out one of the
pineapples, turning' It from sido to side
to exhibit It. "He alia right?" ho In
quired. "Got ver cheap. Tlnk him sell.
eh? Gooda place downstair."
I confess that this commercialism
grated on me. To see 'Giuseppe's enthu
siasm for gain asserting Itself at a time
when I was being sacrificed to his de
clared chivalry was, to say the least.
disappointing. "Giuseppe," said L, re
proachfully, "did wo come on an errand
7
4
V
" ST ' X
connected with the fruit business or did
we como for a girl?"
He laughed shortly, restoring" the pine
apple to its place and throwing the bag
over his shoulder. "Oh, all right," he an
swered. "Get girl too, by by. I needa
da pineapple for da stand. Get dem and
get Rosa same trip, sava da mon'? See?"
Argument seemed useless, and we pro
ceeded in silence till we came to our des
tination. The street, which on a Summer
night would have swarmed with a noisy
crowd, had been cleared of pasaersby by
the keen Autumn air. It was badly
lighted, and the wind whistled In the
shadowy corners. Just before us a single
street lamp threw a glare across the way.
and there loomed the Arch, a dark, ugly-
blot in the row of houses. Giuseppe
opened tho book and silently pointed to
the picturei-
Ho was undoubtedly right thus far.
The photograph had been taken at short
range, and the very cracks in the biacc
ened wall repeated themselves before our
eyes. The window at which the girl had
stood was now closed and dark. Its broken
panes stuffed with rags. It faced on the
street, near the Arch, but the house to
which it belonged apparently had Its en
trance through some interior alley there
was no doorway to bo seen. This pe
culiarity, too, showed In the picture;
there was no mistaking the place.
Yet as I looked I hardly snared Giu
seppe's faith. Granting that his interest
cavo him sharp eyes, and tnat na nau
made no mistake in seeing In the picture
tho girl he sought, how many chances
that sho had disappeared since tne dook
had been written and published, and in I
k- v,,-., nmhahin with siiph a shift-
Ing tenantry? Or If she were there, now
could he approach her at midnight In a
district where a single outcry would call
together upon the Instant an angry mob?
But- he was placing the book in my
hands with a great effect of politeness.
"Pardon. Signor," he said, "but you
sneaka in a doorway and watch. I go
alone now. I tell you. If I get Rosa,
you say notting. But If da cop catena
me, you speaka do United btates. see;
I said I saw.
"Make out," he went on, "like you
know mo. Make like you not care.
Make like you Just happen by along.
Speaka da United States- He lowerea
his voice in a confidential way. "I tell
you," said he, "I not afralda fight. I
not afralda whole damda Arch. But I
not ver well speaka da united States.
Will you sneaka In da doorway,
Signor?"
This bold lover knew how vaiuame
an Interested acquaintance may prove
when an arrest is made In New York.
The part for which I had been cast I
accepted. I chose a doorway, secreted
myself as well as I could, and watcnea.
Giuseppo went on. At tno ioo. oi
the lamp-post he carefully deposited
the hair of pineapples; then he steppea
out where the light fell full upon him.
There ho squared hl3 shoulders, ad
justed his necktie, cocked his hat on
ono side of his head, folded his arms
high on his breast and sang.
And what should he sins but tne song
ho had sung so many nights as ne
tramped back and forth before tho
fruit-stand.
As the son? went on I began to think.
though In tho uncertainty of the light
I was hardly sure, that tho sash of the
window was being slowly and noise
lessly lowered. Then, as the stanza
was concluded, there was suddenly no
doubt that success had come. The fig
ure of a woman was clearly to be seen
at the window, and as Giuseppe struck
into the refrain again his strenuous
tenor was joined by a woman's voice;
ono of those low-keyed voices which
seem full of tho memory ot tears:
Come, then, loved one, rend tbe veil about
thee;
I am worn with waiting. I must die without
thee.
Come, my love, for true an heaven above thee.
I must ever love tnee ever win i ieve ine.
It was perhaps tho desire for artistic
effect, inherent In the Italian nature,
that-held both the singers firmly in
their Dlaces until tho refrain was fin
ished. Whatever the reason, the last
note was as well accented as the first-
Then, as tho song was done, the figure
disappeared from tho window, ana
Giuseppe, not forgetting to gather up
his bag of pineapples, rushed into tho
shadows of tho Arch.
I waited for the sound of tho fray.
and I had not long to wait. In less than
a mlnuto thero came from the alleys
the most remarkable variety of noises
which I have ever heard. Sounds of
breaking glass, heavy blows, crashing
of doors, shouts of mon, screams of
women, all punctuated Dy many ana
unique oaths in the Italian tongue. At
length there camo a sound as If some
heavy body had fallen down a flight if
Btairs, then the stairs themselves
seemed to como down, and a moment
later the whole uproar was suddenly
magnified, and a wild, shouting mob
burst from the dark recesses out into
tho open street.
Well in the lead was Giuseppe, with
ono arm around tho girl, and his bag
of pineapples in the other hand. Italian
women have hysterics, it seems, the
same as those bred in a keener air.
High abovo the shouts of the pursuers
rang her cries, uttered in her native
speech. "Oh, Giuseppe, save me, save
me! Oh. Giuseppa. have you como at
last? Will they beat me no moro? Oh,
Giuseppe, is It over? Do not let them
beat me- Save me! Save me!" And al
ways. "Oh, Giuseppe! Oh, Giuseppe!"
though she was not forgetting to go at
very good speed.
But Just as they swung fairly Into
TheHeturn of Sherlock -Holmes
CONTINUED FROM PAGE THIRTY-NINE
his noose round the reptile's neck, ho
drew it from Its horrid perch, and carrying
It at arm's length, threw It Into the Iron
safe, which he closed upon It.
Such are the true facts of tho death of
Dr. Grimesby Roylott. of Stoke Moran.
It Is not necessary that I should prolong
a narrative which has already run to too
great a length, by telling how wo broke
the sad news to the terrified girl, how
we conveyed her by the morning train to
the care of her good aunt at Harrow, ot
how tho slow process of official Inquiry
came to the conclusion that the doctor
met his fate while Indiscreetly playing
with a dangerous pet. The llttlo which I
had yet to learn of the case was told me
by Sherlock Holmes as we traveled back
next day.
"I had." said he, "come to an entirely
erroneous conclusion, which shows, my
dear Watson, how dangerous It always is
to reason from insufficient data. The pres
ence of the gypsies, and the use of the
word band,' which was used by the poor
girl, no doubt to explain the appearance
which she had caught a hurried glimpse of
by the light of her match, were sufficient
to put me once upon an entirely wrong
scent. I can only claim the merit that 1
instantly reconsidered my position when,
however. It became clear to me that what
ever danger threatened an occupant of the
room could not come either from the win
dow or the door. My attention was
speedily drawn, as I have already re
marked to you. to this ventilator, and to
the bell-rope which hung down to the bed.
The discovery that this was a dummy,
and that the bed was clamped to tho
floor. Instantly gave rise to the suspicion
that the rope was there as a bridgo
for something passing through the
hole, and coming to tho bed.
The Idea of a snake Instantly occurred to
me, and when I coupled It with my knowl
edge that the doctor was furnished with a
supply of creatures from India I felt that
I was probably on the right track. The
Idea of using a form of poison which
could not possibly be discovered by any
chemical test was Just such a one as
would occur to a clever and ruthless man
who had an Eastern training. The rapid
ity with which such a poison would take
effect would also, from his point of view.
bo an advantage. It would bo a sharp
jtrfid Coroaer.1 indeed who wull distin
tho roadway from the curve of their
course from the Arch. Giuseppe turned
like a flash, thrust the girl behind him.
and. faced his pursuers. Two dark fig
ures headed these, and from traditions
of Italian character I looked for the
gleam of knives. But if the man had
knives they had no chance to use them.
A bag containing- a dozen pineapples,
swung by the arm of a man strong and
thoroughly in earnest, makes a potent
weapon. One of the dark figures went
down to the pavement, the other stg
gered to the curb and fell In the gutter,
and both stayed where they struck.
Surprised by this diversion, the mob
hesitated for the barest Instant, and In
that instant Giuseppe, with the br
over his shoulder, and the girl, with
her hysteria under comparative con
trol, got around the corner and out of
sight.
The street had filled suddenly. The side
walks were packed to the edges, ami
shouting, gesticulating figures Jostled
each other in the roadway. A half-dozen
heads looked from each of a thousand
windows. The tumult was tremendous.
Mentally resigning tho office of spokes
man in the language of the United States.
I started in the opposite direction to that
taken by Giuseppe. At first I went slow
ly, not to attract attention. As soon as I
got around a corner i walked much more
rapidly, and as I approached the ferry
I think I ran, being anxious to catch the
at the ferry-house all was quiet.
Giuseppo had perhaps gained an earlier
Doat. or maybe ho crossed by another
ierrj . nen I reached the fruitstand I
found it padlocked and oulte as wn Hnrt
left It. Congratulating myself on h.v.
ing escaped the complications I had
risked, I passed on home. Hung down
"The Foreign Quarters of New York"
and went to bed.
When I approached the fruitstand tho
next morning some fresh pineapples were
prominently displayed, although thero
was something In the way In which thev
wero surrounded by smaller fruits that
might havo led the wary to suspect in
them an unusual number of bruises. Giu
seppe leaned gracefully against his placa
of business, his feet crossed, and was
peeling a partially unavailable orango for
his own refreshment.
When he saw me he laid aside the or
ange, rubbed his hand on his corduroy
trousers and extended it toward mo cor
dially. "I get dero all a right." he remarked.
"Bote feet."
"And Rosa?" I Inquired. "Is she safe?"
"Sure." said Giuseppe. "No needa you
speaka da United States. All over."
Whereupon he resumed his orange and
seemed to regard the whole matter as so
entirely a thing of the past that it was
only by some questioning that I learned
the story.
It was quickly told. After Giuseppo had
left the Neapolitan village the girl's un
cle had gradually gained complete con
trol of all her little property. This
done, he looked for the most profitable
way of getting rid of her. and found it
by turning her over to one of those pa
drones who, every year. In spite of the
law's watchfulness, manage to bring hun
dreds of young Italian girls to New York,
there to choose between degrading labor or
a still darker fate. Alone and worse than
friendless in the great city, shut off from
every means of communication with the
only soul from whom sho could expect
aid, the girl, through starvation and
blows and ever-changing wiles, had un
relentingly fought the dally battle for
her honor. Finally she had become a vir
tual prisoner In tho Arch, condemned to
the filthiest toll of the ragsorters, watched
by day and night, hardly leaving the room
from which she had looked when sho
heard Giuseppe's song.
That was the song for which sho had
faithfully waited. It was their old signal,
the song which he had sung many times
under her window at home. When he had
come away they had agreed that when It
should be sung again her answer would
be the fulfillment of his hope. Through
all her trials she had listened for It.
cheered, perhaps, by the thought that she.
too, was in the land to which her lover
had come. When at last sho had heard
it sho was ready.
"Alia right, now," said Giuseppe. In
conclusion. "Rosa she not cry dls morn.
Sho laugh sing feel fine."
I Inquired about tho flight to tha ferry,
of which I had seen only tho beginning.
Had he met with any further difficulty?
"No, signor," said ho mildly. "All ver
dead easy. Skip round corner, jump
streeta car; rido ten. twenta block up;
ten, twenta block down, sneaka to boat."
He assumed an expression of wisdom.
"Greata town Now York. Get los ver"
quick."
"And whero is Rosa?"
"Oh. down my house. Old lady keepa
da house sho take care Rosa. Sure. I
go to priest dls morn four, five clock. 1
speaka. Alia right two weeks come, 1
marry Rosa."
AH over, Indeed. I regarded him admir
ingly, but even while I admired, that un
failing business instinct of his asserted
itself once moro. His attention, wander
ing from a subject so thoroughly disposed
of. rested upon tho pineapples.
He took up one and showed It to me.
Its bruises had, indeed, been artfully con
cealed. Said Giuseppe, turning It around slowly.
"Bust him up bad last night, break In
door, smasha ten, twenty men all with
bag pineapple. Eh, well, good. I got him
cheap. Not all so bad bust like dls one.
I cover him up sell him. maybe." He
tucked little lemons deftly about it again.
"Gotta lose de mon sometimes," said he
pensively.
guish the two little dark punctures which
would show where tho poison fangs had
done their work. Then I thought of tho
whistle. Of course ho must recall tha
snake beforo tho morning light revealed
it to the victim. He had trained It. prob
ably by the use of the milk which wo
saw, to return to him when summoned.
He would put It through this ventilator
at the hour that he thought best, with
the certainty that it would crawl down
the rope and land on the bed. It might or
might not blto the occupant, perhaps she
might escape every night for a week, but
sooner or later Bhe must fall a victim.
"I had come to theso conclusions bo-
fore ever I had entered his room. An in
spection of his chair showed me that he
had been in the habit of standing on it.
which, of course, would bo necessary la
order that he should reach the ventilator.
The sight of the safe, the saucer of milk
and the loop of whipcord were enough to
finally dispel any doubts which may havo
remained. The metallic clang heard by
Mis3 Stoner was obviously caused by her
stepfather hastily closing the door of his
safe upon Its terrible occupant- Having
onco made up my mind, you know the
steps which I took In order to put the
matter to tho proof. I heard the creaturo
hiss, as I have no doubt that you did also,
and I instantly lit the light and attacked
iU"
"With tho result of driving it through
tho ventilator."
"And also with the result of causing It
to turn upon Its master at the other side.
Some of the blows of my cane came homo
and roused its snaklsh temper, so that It
flew upon the first person It saw. In this
way I am. no doubt, indirectly respon
sible for Dr. Grimesby Roylett's death,
and I cannot say It Is likely to weigh,
very heavily upon my conscience."
(Copyright by Harper & Bros.)
To Educate.
Milwaukee Sentinel.
"If I ever get rich." said the street
car conductor, savagely, as he yanked tho
bell rope, "I'm going to endow one of
them big- colleges with a chair."
"What kind of a chair?" asked the In
terested passenger.
"You kin search me fer a name, but
It'll better the purpose of learnla wlnjmla
tow $0 get off'o ft strcet-cari