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About The Albany register. (Albany, Or.) 1868-18?? | View Entire Issue (Sept. 3, 1880)
Only think of it ! A clerk ! A sales
Woman ! It seems to me I would have
worked my fingers to the bone in some
other way belore I would come to tint,"
said Lizzie Doyle, going to ilie mirror and
readjusting a twenty-dollar hat.
"So would I. But then, what could she
"At leat she might have piade herselt
a little less public. It there's anything I
despise, it's these saleswomen."
'So do I. How much "better it would
have been to have gout- into dress-making
or millinery, or something Ot that son.
But to stand behind the counter like a
"Papa always did like those Stanleys,"
said Lizzie Doyle, petulantly.
"Yes we all liked them well enough
until Mr. Stanley tailed didn't we ?"
"Xii, not I. for one: L--rn.i wi always
so independent in her notion. Don't you
remember how tianl she studied at school ?
It does seem as if she foresaw her father's
"I wonder she didn't try some better
position, then. She is certainly capable
ot being something belter tliu a sho
girl." "Oh. I believe papa intends to promote
lier when Mr. Jobley goes west. She will
then take .lobley's place as junior book
keeper. Think of that for a woman !"
That would Ihj better than selling
goods. I don't see Imw slip can do that
with her refined tastes. Why don't she
give lessons. I wonder ? It might not
bring her in quite so much money, but it
would be a great deal nicer.'
"Ye ; and then we could recognise
her."" said Lizzie Doyle.
That's what I was coming to.' was
the rep'y of lier companion, a small,
sallow-faced girl elaborately trimmed and
How are we to treat her now ? We
liave been great friends you know ; tliat
is, when she was in our set," she added,
seeing Lizzie's brow daiken.
"I'll tell you how I shall treat her," re
oiidcd Lizzie, slowly drawing on a pair
of perfumed, three-button kid glows ;
"precisely as 1 trfit all of papa's clerks.
And I should like to see any of then) pre
sume.''' "Oh. hut Laura won't presume! You
needn't b- afraid of that ; she's ton
"Dot how can you help it when you go
to the store or chinch ? She sits so near
to tis. you know.'
f course she'll give up tlie jiew. She
can't afford that."
"That" precisely what she dvs not
mean to do. I heard her say that the
family must economise somewhere else
and keep the pew. Her mother is hard of
hearing and would not enjoy the service
farther back. The children, too. must go
to church. Tint is the hist thing, she
said, one ontrht to give uii I bean! her
frityTiis to your father last Sunday." j
"How provoking !" sahl Lizzie impa
tiently, she will always be in our faces.
But I shall have nothing to do with her.
I know what it is for, the artlul minx !
it's to keep near us. She knows that she
lias got into papa's good graces ; and Al.
too, admiies her. I don't see what there
Is to admire. She is very plain."
'Laura is r.o beauty." was the reply,
'-but I don't think she's so very plain.
She certainly has lowered herself, though,
by going into a store !" And thereupon
the two girls went, out fjr tlieir walk.
It was near twilight of that day when
. Laura Stanley walked briskly home and
entered the neat two-stoiy house to which
lier mother had lately removed such of her
house hold e fleets as had been spared . by
"This is really pleasant." she said, sink
ing Into a chair that had !een drawn near
the glowing grate. "I had no idea, moth
er, that you would make the house so
"Are you very tired, my dear ?" asked
her mother, a rc-tioed looking woman, as
she helped the daughter to take off her
cloak and hat.
"Ratlier. but I like the business, and
It's a fine place for the study ot character."
"I wish you had chosen something else,
."I don't wish so,'" said Laura. "There
is nothing else that would have brought a
salary at once. I used to wonder what a
certain ierson wou'd think of me if I were
not rich Mr. Stanley's daughter, and now
I know. It's a knowledge worth gaining,
'Do you meet many persons that you
are acquainted w ith ?' asked her mother.
"Oh. yes ; and it's amusing when they
come upon me suddenly. Oh I is't
really ! is this Miss Stanley ? and some
times tip would go the eye-glasses. Then
I feel well, as if I should like to freeze
some one, if I could, for a minute. Others
see me and make believe they are examin
ing goods ; so absorbed are they that tliey
go clear by me without looking up, ami
pass out in the same way. But such
sights don't trouble me. I find out how
much true friendship is worth, and who.
out of the seeming ladies I have been in
the habit ot meeting, are true and who are
"Then you meet some that are true ?'
"Yes indeed ; Judge Agate's wife, who
always seemed to be so proud and distant,
came up to me with a glowing face and
airly congratulated me. , She did It like a
lady too. and like a friend. There was
nothing patronizing about her. And there
was several otliers to wtiotn my position
makes no difference. They prize tile for
(yliat I am. Yet what a price to pay lor
learning the value of true friendship,"
added Laura with a deep sigh.
"I met Aggie Doyle to-day, and she
wouldn't speak to me," said Alice,
Laura's sister, who had come into the
room and overheard the last remark.
Why shouldn't she speak to me, I won
der," 'Because your sister is a clerk in her
father's store,' said Laura somewhat
"That's no reason why she should treat
me so," the child replied.
"Of course it isn't ; nor 1 it any reason
why Lizzie, hei eldeU sister, should ignore
me. I like her so much too. But to-day
she came into the store and passed me
wilh such a glance after I had prepared a
smile and welcome for her. Mr. Doyle
has been so kind since papa's death, that
I looked for better treatment from Lizzie.
That, I confess, wounded me ; and I shall
have to meet her so often,! But njver
mind. I must remember uiy place," she
added -I have, to work for mv living
now but I will be proud of it ! Good
bye. old life of lazy ease ! Good-bye, old
wortlhess friends ! Your coldness cannot
hurt the real me ; it. is only the worthless
young lady of fashion who feels it, and she
is slowly departing this life."
"Have you filled all your invitations ?"
asked Lizzie's eldest brother, one of the
firm ot Doyle & Co . some days after the
preceding conversation took place.
Lizzie was arranging a hundred or more
tiny cream-colored envelopes, which she
bad tied together w ith some pretty, bright-
"I b"!ieve so.' she replied with a smile.
-I have asked every young lady of my
acquaintance, and I think our party will
be the finest of the season, if papa will
have the carpets taken up in the west
rooms and the floor chalked. Hti'ger will
do them for fifty dollars, and vou have no
idea how beautifully he works."
I think father will not refuse that." her
brother replied. "I'll speak to him.'
I'll ink yon. Al. Then I am sure he
will have it done. I have asked hiui for
so much that I was almost atratd to ask
hi in fur more."
'By-Mie-by. hive you invited Miss
Laura Stanley ?" lier brother asked as he
was g: .11 in out.
Of course not," said Lizzie.
Of course nor ? and pray. w'y not?"'
he a-ke-l standing still.
Why. Al. what an idea ! she would
not expect it. Our shop-girl father's
clerk ; I wouldn't have her here for the
Then it yon are sure she would nor
come, yon might have sent her an invita
tion out of compliment," her brother re
plied. "I don't consider her an acquaintance,"
said Lizzie, and Al walkeu out of the
room with a shrug ot the shoulders.
Presently her father came in. "Lizzie,"
he s-.-iid. "1 particularly wi ll you to send
a note ot invitation to Mi Laura Stan-
Papa, vou don't mean it !" exclaimed
"Indeed, I do mean it. What ! slight
the daughfer of mv most cherished friend.
Iiecause she has come down in the world
in the money point of view ? I should
despise myself for it."
Lizzie sat down, pale and angry, to
write the note. After all her boasting of
having "cut the Stanley's" it was. very
hard to lie obliged to invite Laura, tier
checks grew hot as she indited tin Mi!ife
iltle m'ssive. white she remembered the
many times she had ignored her to whom
it was addressed. She would have dis
olievcd had -die dared would even have
withheld the note after it was written,
had her father not stotid by to take it.
Later, her brother Al came to her.
"I should like an invitation. Lizzie, tor
a young latly of my acquaintance, he
said in a quiet voice.
"Who is she ?"
" The young lady whom I have asked to
be my wife," he said, smiling.
"Oh, Al, of course you shall hav it !
I am to have a sister then ? I'm so glad.
What, is her name i Is she in the city ?
VViil she be sure lo conn; ? I'm sure I
can't think of anv one." And then she
paused, puzzled at his shrewd smile.
'Do I know her ?" she asked.
"You used to," he answered. "It is
Miss Laura Stanley."
Oh. Al !" She sank down covering
her face with her hands.
I was afraid she might feel the slight
so keenly," he said, solily. "that I hurried
matters a little. So yon need not lie
afraid she wiii not come. Will you pre
pare an Invitation ?"
-I have. Papa has carried it to her.
But oh, Al, a clerk !"
A noble woman,' said her brother.
"who dares to face the sneers of her set,
and take an honest position for the sake
of those who arc dependent upon her.
rather than whine about her former digni
ty, ami live upon charity. I wish there
were more like her."
So Lizzie was fo-ced for once in her
life, to eat humble pie.
According to the Chrnnlrle old whalers
do not believe the Jeaunstle will ever return.
The Cortcin, sent out by the Government
to look after the Arctic explorer, had not
left St, Michaels on the 8th of July. Last
winter was fearfully cold and the ice un
usita'ly high and thick, and old sea dogs
thiuk the "tub" as tliey characterize the
Jeannelte, could not live in such Ice. The
people of St. SJ ichaela hold to this opinion
The shallow of the mountaJn fallsatliwart the
And the shadow of the cloudlet Yiongs above
the mountain's head
And the hisrbest hearts and lowest wear the
shadow if some rain.
And the smile is scarcely titted ere the an
guish tear is shed.
For no eyes have thorc been ever without a
And the liiweannot lie human winch nev
er heaved a si-rli ;
For without the dreary winter there has
never lieen a vear.
And the tempests hide their tenors in the
culmest summer sky.
So this dreary life is passing and wo move
amid its maze.
And we "rope iilontr together, half in dark-
ne-s hall in liiiht ;
And onr hearts are otien hardened by the
luvsierie of our wnvs.
Whieh are never all in slitulow and never
And our dim eye ask o beacon and our weary
feet a unide.
And our hearts of all life's mysteries seek
the iiieantiiLt una tne Key ;
And a cross fleams o'er our pathway, on ll
liiniLN the eriu-ified
And he nnswersjill onr yearnings by the
whisper. "Follow Sle."
Ti leSted anil Tracked.
PAliT I. THICK EP.
It is now some years ago since an
dent occurred in my lite, which, may pos
sibly prove interesting to those who. like
myself, are too easily imposed upon ; and
although, bv the recital. I hold myself
open to the ridicule of the mind masculine
which by its o-vu showing, is never duped
or deceived bv impostors, yet, in order to
warn those ot mv own sex who are more
easily wrought upon, I will narrate, a
nearly as I can, a strange adventure whicl
Deled me during the winter of IS'jO
I am the wife of an English officer, and
at the time of which I write was residing
Paris. Late in .Tune my husband
received orders to be in readiness to sai
with his regiment for C the following
month : but as his absence was not likely
to be of bng duration, I had decided not
to accompany him. and had determined to
make Paris my headquarters- during tlie
time of our enforced separation. The pre
paratious fur his departure to be pressed
forward with all expedition, and, as is so
often the case when time is valuable, everv
possible difficulty seemed to crop up to
hinder the progress of our work. !
The culminating point at last arrived,
when my husband's body servant fell sud
denly til. and sent in his resignation the
very week they were expecting to start
We at once made inquiries on ail sides for
a man competent to fill the vacant post,
fn this instance fortune favored us. .Inst
as we were beginning to despair of succe.
a Frenchman, w ho spoke very tolerable
Kiiglit-h.i applied for the -itnntion ; and h
references being sati.-fai toi v. we hastily
ensrageu him, bcartnv glad to have hi ought
an unpleasant affair to so fortunate a con
clusion. Although. I had many friends residing in
Paris, I had no near relations I could ask
to remain with me during my temporary
exile ; my husband's people all lived in
Ireland, and. with the exception of a few
-scattered cousins, my only existing rela
live was one brother (some years younger
than myself, to whom I was greatly at
tached), but. who for years past had been a
source of constant anxiety to me by reason
of bis wild and reckless manner of living.
My husband had assisted him in numeious
difficulties, but his patience had at la-t be
come exhau -ted. anil he had to led my
brother plainly and decisively that only
in case of extremity, such as illness, which
should really incapacitate bun from work
or from some such urgent cause, would he
supply Iii hi with pecu.dary help. Several let.
passed between them at this peiiod : then
followed an interval of silence, which had
remained unbroken up to the time ot .which
I write. This naturally caused me much
uneasiness at times ; bur. I could only hope
he had at length felt the necessity of : put
ting his shoulder to the wheel, and was
striving to regain the good name he had
lost by his own foolish conduct.
Time passed slowly away. , Many of my
friends had returned to England for the
winter, and I was more ! ban ever alone :
my husband had now beeti gone some
months, and, although his letters began to
breathe a vague hope of his return, I knew
that some time must yet elapse before we
should meet again. Oi-e evenine (I r-
memtrer it was the 22d of January) I was
sitting by myself vainly trying to get in
terested in the book I was reading, when a
note was brought me by one of the servants
of the hotel, who said the bearer was wait
ing my reply. The letter was neatly fold
ed, and addressed in a woman's handwrit-
ng to "The Ladyot Captain Ralph Barns-
eomhe." and was marked "Private." It
was. however, a rtrange looking document;
and breaking the seal in a spirit of curiosi
ty, I read the following : ;
"Madame: I write this -o you on be
half ot your brother. Monsieur Richard
Willoughby, who lies at this house dying.
Would you see him alive you must come
at once without hesitation. Madame, the
poor gentleman is very sick sick to death
in mind and body ; for he lies In fear of
arrest, and worse than arrest, even in his
dying state. He prays you ask your hus
band to assist him, as he promised, in this
his last sore strait. No one but Captain
Barnscombe may accompany yon or know
of your errand ; you must bring with you
fifty pounds in gold, if possible. English
money win oo, out not notes. Your es
cort will only be a little child, hut h knows
every turn of the way you will have to
traverse. Come on foot to drive would
excite suspicion. Monsieur repents, no
one but 'Ralph' may come with yon ; he
is too 111 to write anything more than his
name, which I inclose." s.
Here loll owed a few directions about the
way we were to take, and an injunction to
bring the letter to guide myself with.
Then the name "Marie Toisseau." In
closed was a scrap of paper bearing my
brother's signature, which I saw at once
I turned cold as I finished the perusal of
this letter, but, commanding my voice as
well as I was able. I bade the servant send
the bearer to me at once. I was not left j
long in suspense ; the door of the salon
soon reopened, and a little figure appeared
on the threshold. A fragile-looking boy
about eleven years of age. dressed in a
dark-blue blouse, which hung loosely about
him, anil wearing on his head a red knit-
ed fisherman's cap, which was pulled down
low fm his forehead a boy whose pale face
wa? lighted up with large dark eyes, their
long drooping lashes sweeping his delicate
cheeks. He shuc the door softly behind
him and gave .1 swift searching glance
around the room ; theiij as though abashed
by my presence, he sond with downcast
eyes and his hands loosely folded before
him, awaiting my questioning.
"My boy," I said addressing him in
French, "can you conduct me to this gen
tleman who is so ill ?"
Again his dark eyes wandered about the
room as though to reassure himself (hat we
were alone, and then replied softly in Eng
lish, though with a foreign accent z
"Surely, madame, I will, but it must be
with all speed, or it will be a lost journey
Telling him to wait for me where he
was, 1 left the room, and hastened to pre
pare for my extiedition. My heart sank
within me fit the idea of venturing out in
to tlie night with no other protector than
the little child waiting below; but I nerved
myself to perform the duty I felt had fal
len across my path, and made up my mind
to act as became a soldier's wife fearless
ly. 1 had about thirty sovereigns in my
possession, as it happened ; and making
up the amount required as nearly as I
could in French money. I placed it care
fully in a small bag, which I hung on my
arm. Dressing myself in a dark bonnet
and traveling cloak. I descended quietly to
my apartment, without giving intimation
of my departure to any one. The child
stood precisely ns ! had left him. with the
light tailing on his pale face, and hishand3
loosely locked in one another. I told him
I was ready to start, and walked to the ta
ble by which I bad lieen sitting to get the
letter the woman had written, and which
had caused me so much anxiety.
The bov then approached me, and, tak
ing my h::nd in his coid Ones, aid in a
whisper, as his piteous eyes filled with
"Madame, the gentleman na'.e me say
to yon for the love ot heaven, and for the
sake of your dead mother, bring tlie nion-
I showed him the little sack I carried un
der my cloak, and he was satisfied : we
then left the hotel silently, scarcely noticed
by the servants busied about the entrance
hall. Once out in the open air, I seemed
to breathe more freely ; but my heart was
too heavy tor speaking, and we pursued
our way in silence.
The noise ot the traffic, the lights ot the
shops streaming across our path, and the
number of toot passengers passing and re
passing us. bewildered me at first, all un-M'cii-tomed
as I was to walking through the
streets so late ; but we pressed on through
the ever-changing crowd, and people seem
ed too intent on their own business to take
much heed of two wayfarers like ourselves.
After a time we turned into a less frequent
ed part of the town and the lights became
less brilliant and more deserted. Sudden
ly the boy stopped and seemed uncertain
as to which road he should take. He paus
ed a moment ; then, turning to me said :
Madame 1 tear I have missed my way
a little ; but my mother told me she would
give some directions in her letter ; will
madame give it me that I may right my"
Without thinking I handed him bis
mother's letter, and, standing beneath a
ueighlioriiig lamp, he read over slowly the
directions contained in the note; then,
holding it still open in bis band, he resum
ed his walk, referring to it every now and
then, as though still in doubt as to our
whereabouts. There was a certain mys
terious quiet about the neighborhood we
were in that preyed upon my spirits a
certain silence I could not fathom ; and
my courage began to flag strangely as we
continued our lonely road. I experienced
a sensation ot intense relief, therefore,
when my young gtdde stopped suddenly be
fore a tall, dark house in a quiet street,
and 1 11-tened eagerly for an answer to his
gentle tap at the closed door. A voice
from within asked softly, in French: "How
fares it, my son ?" and ri English the hoy
answered : "Safely and fairly ; open the
door." The door was then unbarred and
opened without the least noise, just wide
enough to admit us, and we entered a hall
lighted by a small lamp held by a tall wo
man imorly clad. The flickering flame
of the lamp gave forth so dim a light that
I could not distinguish' lier features, and
she spoke in a voice scarcely above a whis
per. I inquired, eagerly lor my brother,
and begged her to conduct me to him at
once. She shook her head sadiy, and then
"Ah, madame, your coining may do
great things for him ; you will be able to
ease the poor mind that runs on nothing
but money, money, day and night, with
out ceasing." C
She barred the door by which w enter
ed, and then preceded me up .a broken
staircase, the boy following - us , with the
feeble oil-la up. The house sounded hoi
low, and our footsteps echoed drearily
we went. Presently we etoppt'd bpfore
the door of a tonm which I imagine to
have been at the back of the house, and the
woman, entering first, beckoned me to
Iu one corner of a large, almost empty
apartment was a bed, shrouded by thick
dark curtains ; in the grate a low charcoal
fire was burning. I made for the corner
where the bed was, and was about to un"
draw the curtains which concealed from
my view the poor boy I had come so mys-
teiiously to visit. Suddenly from behind
me a cloth was tied tightly over the whole
of my lace, a strange burning sense of
suffocation overspread my senses, and 1
remember nothing more ; all was silence,
darkness, a hideous blank, until I awoke
in my bedroom at the? Hotel de L., with
my head aching strangely and a benumbed
sensat'on pervading my whole frame. My
maid, an English doctor with whom I was
slightly acquainted, and another doctor
who was a stranger to me. were anxiously
watching for my return to consciousness.
It was quite light, and the sun was shining
into the room. As one by one tl-e events
of the preceding night rose before my
mind, I was utterly at a loss to imagine
how I had been rescued from that horrible
house and brought back to the hotel in
The story was soon told. The night
porter, corning on duty atl o'elock, had
found me lying on the sleps leading to the
side door ot the hotel, which opened into
an unfrequented passage or street. Find
ing I was unconscious, he had summoned
the day porter, who was waiting ferhiui,
to render assistance, and this man, know
ing me by sight, identified me as a lady
staying iu the hotel. He at once roused
the house. My maid (who was waiting
up for me, wondering and alarmed at my
prolonged absence speedily procured the
services of two medical men from the ad
joining neighborhood, and they had since
lieen using every method to restore me to
consciousness, when I might perchance
unfold the mystery of my strange return
There was no trace of any violence
having been used, nor any proof by which
they could discover where I had been
The only thing they found upon me, which
was not mv own, was a handkerchief
tightly clasped iu my hand, on which
were embioideied mv brother Richard's
initials, and which I at once recognized as
having been worked by me some yean
previously for my unhappy brother. The
money had, ol course, all been taken
also the rings, brooch and locket I had
worn. My wedding ring -as left, and
the bag iu which I hail put the money was
stiil hanging troui toy arm.
As soon as I was able I told the doctors
all I coird remember ot the past night's
experiences, and. at the conclusion of the
recital, they both advised me to put the
matter into the bauds of the police. I en
treated that this might be done as quietly
as possible, my brother's name being so
mixed up in the afi'air that outsiders
would most probably be led to believe that
he was an accomplice in the robbery.
though in my own mind I felt certain he
was more sinned against than sinning,
, The sergeant of police who waited on
me showed great interest in my adventure ;
but I could plainly see that, not withstand
ing all his civility. Irs suspicions pointed
at once to my brother as chief agent in the
case. I could swear to the signature be
ing genuine ; the handkerchief, too, I rec
ognized. Alas, it really seemed only too
certain that nir brother had at all events
been the companion of these peoplb, and
must have discussed our affairs freely
with them, even if he were not criminally
concerned iu the dark transaction.
The Parisian police made every effort
to trace the offenders, but in vain ; house
after house was searched in the quarter to
which I believed myself to have been taken,
but no trace ot the Aoman or child could
be lound. And so for a time the matter
TAUT II TRACKED.
Two years passed, and the night ot my
strange adventure in Paris had become
almost like a dream to me. We left
France after my husband's return from
abroad, and, on his quitting the army, we
took up our residence in London. I had
in the meanwhile received seyeral letters
from my brother, written from the Cape,
and, in answer to one I wrote him in refer
ence to the robbery, he replied with the
most solemn assertions of his entire ignor
ance of the transaction. I believed him :
my husband was silent on the subject, and
I felt thankful the Cape was so far off".
We seldom referred to the circumstances
before recorded, for I could not bear to re
call the horrors of that evening iu the
dark, desolate house,
One morning, however, I was startled
by my husband saying suddenly, as he
looked up from a letter he was reading :
"I say, Madge, they think they have
found a clew at last to your Parisian ex
ploit ; read that."
He passed me over on official-looking
letter, and I read what follows : .
"Bureau de Police. Paris.
"7"o ' Captain UraitMCumm Monsieur :
We believe we have in custody the boy
who acted so prominent a nart in the
robbery committed on madame your wife,
in January. 1S69. He Is concerned in an
affair which beare a close resemblance to
l he one lu winch your latly was the victim
win sne come Herself, and. if she can.
7AlXSAltUVn -l-ce "gainst the offenders.
The thought of proceeding in this case
wasit first yery distasteful to me ; but so
much might be brought to light by my
making the effort, that I resolved, by
Rill nil's advice, to tacn the diso-reenh'e
as task ; and. accordingly, we started for
I will not enter into the details ot the
case then under examination ; suffice it to
say it was a robbery committed on the
wife of Colonel Styles, under circumstances
clossly resembling those of which I was
made the dupe. In this instance, however,
a boy had been seized on suspicion, and it
was this same boy I was called on to iden
tify. I had not much difficulty in the
matter ; although he had altered in the
time that had elapsed since that memora
ble evening, there were still those remark
able eyes, with their long drooping lashes,
and the pale delicate face, to bear witness
to his identity 5 and without the least
hesitation I declared him to be the same
I boy who had guided me to the house
where I had been robbed on the evening
of January 22, 1S39.
The boy did 11c t seem at all disconcerted
at my recognition, anj. even smiled In a
slightly supercilious -manner, a? though he
felt himself secure, from any discovery re
sulting from my identification. The au
thorities had been unable, as yet, to elicit
any information from him ; he baffled all
their attempts at questioning him with a
skill and cunning almost incredible in so
young an offender. All at once 1 was
surprised at an exclamation from my hus
band, who stood near me :
"Good heavens !" he said half audibly.
'I believe I see through the whole plant ;
what a blockhead I was not to haye
thought of it before ! But it was neatly
planned and carried out, by Jove It was 1"
He crossed the hall to where Colonel
Styles was sitting, and after speaking to
him for a few minutes in a low,' hurried
manner, he asked leave to call a w itness.
who, he believed, might throw, some light
on the matter in hand. Permission hav
ing been granted, he said in a loud voice :
'The man calling himself Jules Fetier,
body servant to Colonel Styles, and now
present ic this hall, is requested to stand
For the first time since our entrance the
boy's face fell, and lie looked perplexed
and rather dismayed. There was a move
ment in the crowd as j though some one
were trying to effect a departure from the
door ; but the attempt being promptly
frustrated. I saw them lead into the witness-box
the French servant who had ac
companied my husband abroad, but who
had left his service on his return to Eng-
laud. . After some time passed iu making
inquiries, and eliciting very little from the
cautious man before us, he was searched.
and man)' letters ot his present employer
were found upon him ; also a jiocket-
book, winch contained memoranda, prov-
g a great deal against himself and his two
accomplices his wife and the boy in the
dock before us. Xo one else seemed con
cerned in his fraudulent transactions.
On further search the whole system of
his roguery was unfolded piece by piece.
He would take service with gentlemen
about to travel, imposing on their credulity
with false references, and gaining their
confidence by his well-trained demeanor
and intelligent conversation. Once safely
out of the country, he would commence
his nefarious schemes and. with the aid
of Ids clever wife and child, carry them
out successfully. Nothing was ever for
gotten that could lead to the desired end.
No fraud was started until the details had
been thorougly mastered by the accom
plices, and the plan well matured. It is
impossible to say how many people he
had defrauded in different ways.
He had soon found out how matters
stood betweeu mv husband and brother
partly from his own researches, and partly
from a conversation he overheard between
his master and a brother officer and con
sidering the situation a capital one for
practicing his system upon, he had at once
communicated with his wife and unfolded
his plans to her, sending her the signature
abstracted from one of Richard's letters as
a decoy ; and also the handkerchief which
Ralph happened to have taken among his
own, to throw suspicion on my brother as
being accessory to the robbery.
Before the examination concluded the
sergeant, who had been so long on the
look-out for the perpetrators of the deed
asked my husliand how he had recognized
the boy as being the son of hi3 former ser
vant. Ralph laughed slightly as he re
plied : .
"I believe I should have made the best
detective of you all had I been on the spot.
I thought I recalled the boy's features as
being in some way familiar to me, but
could not determine of whom he reminded
me ; however as he stooped to speak to the
warder, the mystery was revealed in a mo
ment by a strange stroke of luck."
Turning to the boy who had lost his
courageous air, and was looking crest-fal
len and frightened, ray husband bade him
hold down bis head. - For a - moment he
refost-d ; but on the order being repeated,
he obeyed reluctantly,
From one side of his head to the other,
contrasting strangely with tiis thick dark
curls, was a streak ot white hair, about
halt an inch wide, whieh shone like silver
in the sunlight ; then bidding the elder
man remove the cap lie wore, he made
him also stoop forward, which he did with
a muttered exclamation, and there again
we saw the same strange white band shine
out on his closely cropped bead
No link seemed wanting to complete the
and the elder was at length forced to ad
mit that the proofs were too strong for him
to battle with. . H begged tliat hisf-wife
to whom he seemed really attached might
bo treated leniently, as she was slowly but
surely dying" from cancer j. the statement
was afterward proved to bo correct, and
the woman was rcnaored to a hospital,
where she lingered but a short time. The
father and son weie fully committed for
trial, and duly found guilty. Thtjf senten
ces imposed upon them wore of a severe
nature, ow ing to the number of accusations
brought against them.
I can only hope that when their term ot
imprisonment has expired they may find
people less easy to impose upon and be--ter
able to resist their machinations than
was "the lady of Captain Ralph Barns
combe," who fc.Ilj.so easy a prey to their
duplicity and cunning. Hint memorable
evening of January 22d, 18S0.
en. Uartteld'a Fna.
The following is an extract ft otn a cor
respondence of ti e Spring Valley Vtdette,
concerning a late vMi to the residance ot
The yirui r riv icxt President consists
of 15(3 .'acres oVs:'l foRited oh tTfiriortll
side of Mentor Avenue, six miles west of
Painesville, and one mile east ot Mentor
station. It is long north and south. The
south part is of a bright yellow loam
which is fully cultivated with corn, oats -
and grass which look as if they had good
husbandly. The General lias a roadway
from his dwelling to a stopping place on
the Lake Shore R. R.. which passes oo
the General's laud. Under the ridge all
along the county is what we call in Minne
sota a slough. This the General has util
ized by tilling and bringing all the water
into three large tanks underground, which
have been placed -so as to get feu feet fall
in the lower one. lie has an hydraulic
ram which forces water half a mile info
and all through his residence ; into all of
his barns and pastures, which gives a flue
spring water for all. s
Deficient Wlie.-it ZSnrvcst In KanM,
The Golos, ot St Petersburg, publishes
an article based on returns sent by t lie
governors of forty-eight provinces in En
roppan Russiawshowiiig that the total de
tieet of grain, as compared with the aver
age crop, will amount to 0,761,310 quar
ters, and '.hat in view of the poor harvest,,
it ii considered impossible to export the
usual average of 40. 000, 000 quarters with
out causing suffering at home. A St.
Petersburg despatch states that the subject .
of the restriction or total prohibition of
the exjiort of wheat is being discussed.
The Manchester iJmtrai tii, of July 13th
.say? : ""The prohibition of the export of
grain from Russia will be a serious matter
for Germany, where the rye crops are
especially poor. Under the circumstances,
it seems likely that Germany this year
will be, notwithstanding the srraln duties,
an important customer of the American
An Honorable Career.
The career of General Garfield
briefly stated :
At 14 At work at a carpenter's bench;.
At 13 Driving a canal boat.
At 18 Student at Chester Academy, Ohio.
At 21 Teaching in public school, Ohio,
At 23 Entered Williams College.
At 2'J Graduated with the "honors of Ida
At 27 Tutor in Hiram College.
At 2S Principal of Hiram College.
At 29" Youngest member of the Ohio senate..-
At 30 Colonel of the 42 OJV. I.
At 31 Commander of brigade ; whipped-
the Rebs under Humphrey Marshal ;
helper! Buell at Pittsburg Landing; seig?
ot Corinth, etc.
At 32 Chief of staff of the Army ot the
At 33 In Congress of the United S'atcs, as
successor of Joshua R. GidJings.
At 43 Kleeted United States Senator, hav
ing been in Congress 13 years.
At 49 Republican candidate for the Presi
At 50 Will be the President of the United
TniUK Worlii KuowIub,
1. That fish may be scaled much easier
by dipping in boiling water about a
2. That fish may be as well scalded, if
desired, lie fore packing thctn down In
salt; though, in that case, don't scald
3. Salt fish are (inickcst and best fresh
ened by soaking in "sour milk.
4. that milk when it is turned or-
changed may be sweetened and rendered
ht lor use again by stirring, in a little
5. That salt will curdle new milk :-
hence, in preparing milk porridge, gravies,
etc., the salt should not be added until
the dish Is orenared.
C. That fresh meat, after beginning to-
sour, will sweeten it placed out of doors-
in tlie tool over night.
7. That clear boiling water will remove'
ink and other stains and many fruit stains..
Pour the water through the stain, and thus
prevent its spreading over the fabric.
The Democratic press is trying to divert
attention from the political issues between-.
the Republican and Democratic party, by-
attacking Gen. Garfield for . participation.
in the Credit Mobilicr speculation of Oakea
Ames. The charges have been disproved'
and dismissed, their, falsity having been-
so conclusively established that such high.
Democratic authorities as Senator Thur
man and Judge Black have certified to.
Garfield's exoneration from connection
with them. It a comparison of personal
records is to be made Gen. Hancock will
be found vulnerable in the matter of the
Petroleum -mining swindle of which be
was the President, but a warfare In wbichi
the personal honor and ' integrity of the
candidates is to be impeached ought nob
to be encouraged.
Three more numbers closes this volcma
twelve of tbc Eegistsu.