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About The Albany register. (Albany, Or.) 1868-18?? | View Entire Issue (Sept. 3, 1880)
VOLUME XII Hint Clerk. 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 do?" "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 Mian !' "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 failure." "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 flounced. 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 proud.'" "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 the auctioneer. "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 licme-like." "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, my dear." ."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 false." "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 bitterly. "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- hueil Motion. "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 world." 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- ley." Papa, vou don't mean it !" exclaimed Lizzie chagrined. "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 1 Have Hope. The shallow of the mountaJn fallsatliwart the lowlv plain. 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 weary tear, 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 wholly bright. 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 ha 1 received orders to be in readiness to sai il 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 was genuine. 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- ey." 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" self?" 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 said ; "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 follow her. 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 safety. 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 dropped. 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. (Signed; C 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 1 '"V 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 forward." ; 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 Gei-'Sai-fleW , 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 surplus grain." An Honorable Career. The career of General Garfield Is thus. 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 class. 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 Cumberland. 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 dency. At 50 Will be the President of the United States. TniUK Worlii KuowIub, 1. That fish may be scaled much easier by dipping in boiling water about a minute. 2. That fish may be as well scalded, if desired, lie fore packing thctn down In salt; though, in that case, don't scald tnem. 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 soda. 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.
