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About The Eugene City guard. (Eugene City, Or.) 1870-1899 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 4, 1882)
J0CELI.V8 HOTEL. ki, did not look mncli like an author. least uot like the typical blue atockiug . rfl iilwavi reading about. She was t yerj fair and dolioate girl, of a little mftra than twenty, with fluffy yellow Mr down to Ler eyebrows, great, ap white Lands of deal o "style." Bat she had .it(n a noel -iu secret not even her n". .-- u i i i mother Knew ci u, muuu icoa uer lover. !ri,a wis to be a surprise. She held it i., h&nds now. fresh from the nub liahers; for, strange tosay.it had teen l.Mnt8d. oltbougu never in ber life be- (ore had she offered any of her heart and bruin to the harpies that rule modern lioUf?ht. A dainty Summer idyl, with a breezy rootto and tinted pages and doli -i covers with the wealth of Jocelyn'i nature lying between spicy dialogue, dreamy reverie. Hashing wit, and the back-ground dunned in with a masterly hand- BUfl 1 neari mop an Bne looked at the little volume, and a wild rose crept into each cheek. How lov ingly "the mither" would kiss her little irl when she read this anonymous prose-poem and recognized tbe band that guided me pen lortue aimpiea waxen one she had led iu babyhood, Rnw proud Philip would be when he knew sue had written a book and man tm1 everything so cleverly and unex pectedly with the aid of a doting uncle iii the mystioul land of publishers. They Iiad hardly dared dream of success, de spite her arch playfulness, her sweet guyety; she had always bad this twilight breaming thread through the wool of her sunrise-tinted nature. There were many hours when she did not care for excitement, when she liked to creep sway by herself and sit and muse with idla hands. She hardly knew, when tome voice called her baok to wakeful ness of what stun ner a reams nau Deon made. This last year her soul had blossomed into now beauty. Her princ9 had found her sleeping in the palace and had kissed her silent lips. Hence forth the dawns were amethyst above the mystio hills; the tromulous sunsets wore inch splendor of gold and crimson as dazzled her woudoring eyes; there was a languor in the ro3Cs, an abandon in the bird's song, a hush in the noon-day, a holiness in the starshine all the world was new, strange and beautiful. And yet there was an awe upon her, as if in the midat of a car den of bloom and scent, a hooded monk should glide forth with his finger on his lips, and a skull in his hand. She had never been so happy ; she had never been so miserable, nor so restless. Even i her mnsio failed her; even her Ion? dreams could not satisfy her now. She hardly knew what to do with herself. Suddenly she thought she would write a book, a simple, natural little story. No one should ever see it. It would be better than keeping a journal journals were stilted and Bentimenal things, but this would be something to o'jkia her attention and banish her rest estness. Often she did not care to read; she would go over a chapter twenty times and see nothing but a pair of dark eyes looking at ber from the pages; sewing vsi tm dull; rausio only roused the pas su;! V'u mid rapture in her more s : , j!) ; so siety palled upon her, it was liu4 iiioruiug ale, stale and flat, after last night's champagne. So, an hour here, an hour there, she devoted to the little desk in her room. At day-break when the robins were riotous in the apple boughs; at midnight when the stars be gan to pale; in the afternoon when mamma was dozing; rainy days when the falliug music npon the roof made the pen move faster in rythm. She had be gun vagnely, but before she knew it she had written out her own sweet story with its touches of pathos and joyous care lessness. Philip was her hero, of course. It was so in u eii easier writing about him than any other man men were very stupid at the beat, all but Philip. And as she wrote with lingering, loving fingers, her heart tbrillod again with the surprise and graciousness that love had brought her a little while ago. Unconsciously she recorded words and events and hap penings, and over nil was the glamour of youth's first changeless fancy. In everv page the womanliness and childish purity of her shone ont starry, and the winsomeness of a fresh and unspoiled j hut thoughtful and cultured nature. No lovelier summer idyl had ever been penned, with the strong background and heavy shadows throwing into relief the sunny brightness of her sketch. But when it was done to the very last word, when she had penned it, and touched it up here and there, she felt the author's insanity come upon her. She must be printed. She never stopped to think of the many strange, cold eyes that would read the open pages of her heart, she only longed to see it iu clear characters between covers Had not Philip given her this magnificent diamond for his be trothal gift? And a diamond was a stone that any one might buy onlv a cold jewel that one might have for base money. Supposing she gave Philip this little book for her betrothal token? Would he not prize it? Would he not be prouu and pleased? Why, it was part of herself it was herself, bis Jocelyn. And so in her eager, impetuous way, she had consulted no on a bnt this one relative, a wealthy, cultured man, who 7 always willing to abet his little niece m any scheme that amused her, and though he bad expected nothing but pretty school girl sentiment and gush, he was none the less ready. "It can't possi bly be worse than the majority of sum Bier novelties," he said to himself, erimly. He read the work with astonish ment. The crisp, breezy, sparkling little storj-.was a revelation to him and he had Written a xcrv reatinMfnl Intffii" huk ta tbe coming "distinguished authoress," o Jocelvn's amusement. At 10V ftftor manv Aavm thin child he. brain had come back to her clothed ia the latest faBhioa. And then Uew thought came to her; Philip was t rich, and she had nothing but what mamma gave her; if she were very suc cessful, Philip should have it all. The tome he was working so hard for now should be theirs, and be need not look pale and harassed. She was lost in depths of this brilliant thought, P00' little Jooelynt She had so lately Joined the toiling ranks. What should know of the struggle and despair, of dreanw that must die, the hopes that t perish, before the white, steep onntftin.pk, were reached? How lW.1u!9'n.lwhow,nan,iaJ wered 7-i .I t . , . 8na "'oppeu ue- uooiu vi neveimore. now know how pitifully few they were who stood in the eternal sunshine, with eyes uuuuvu uj pain, witu bleeding feet and urosen ueartB? An I Fame is the Jugger nant that has rolled ovur ennntlnsa lnvn. crushing out youth and brightness and joy from eager hearts forever. Bnt little Jocelyn never dreamed of fame, she only wanted to please and surprise her mother auu rump. That evening at her tall lover was on. ing away she timidh banded him a little volume, bound in white with edges of gold. "I want you to read this, Philip," wu a uHcp ana Dcautuui oiush, "and ten me wuat you think of it." He took it from her, a little perplexed at the scarlet checks, and the trembling iiouub. uo is it Dyr un, anonymous Just as well for the writer, doubtless A bummer Idyl like all the rest of them l suppose, wishy-washy diluted sentiment; roses and stars and straw berries, and muslin dresses. But I will read it. my net. Luckily it won't tnka long, it isn't voluminous. It seems to have impressed you deeply Jocelyn," with growing perrloxity as he saw the sweet lips tremble with mortification. 'if so, I shall find it worth readins: your taste is perfect, my darling," fond ly, as ne drew tne sum form to him I will call to-morrow morninir with the horses. It is a week since we have uau a canier, ana tue lake road is gorge ous now after the frosts. Good-night, my Jocelyn my joy "and much more I. . 1 . ... . . . . that is irrelevant. That afternoon she bad placed one of the little books in ber mother's room. and now, as she went up stairs slie peeped in and smiled mischievously to see the madre so absorbed as to be quite unconscious of tier pretty daughter, un til she stooped down and kissed her. "Mamma, mea, is it nice? "Nice!" severely. "If vou read it. Jocelyn, you would not call it nice it is exquisite, Hut it seems as if I had read it all before, and yet I know I never havo." "Perhaps when you have finished it will be clear to you," demurely. "But kiss me good-night, mother mine, and let me inform you you are losing your beauty sleep." Next morning she awoke smiling and happy, and yet, with a chord of anxiety jarring on her mood. But she would not stop to think. Kefore Bhe had finished dressing, tier mother came into her room and folded hor arms about her. "My little girl 1 my baby, how proud mother is of you!" with many kisses of maternal love and pride. After breakfast Jocelyn wandered about half nervously. She could not yet think calmly of her work, nor criti- ciso it coldly, sue must wait until the colors laid upon her summer picture had begun to fado and, even then, would not memory make it fair and beantifnl, the picture other bauds bad painted for ber, inspired by that immortal master, love?" Ah, here was Phillip now. She ran down to the little breakfast-room with her heart beating tumultously. But it sank immediately. Phillip looked very g.ave and stern, and he did not spring to meet her. she had not thought the loving eyes could wear so cold a regard, and she felt suddenly numb and hope less. 'Has anything happened, Phillip? Have you had bad news?" 'All that has happened, Jocelyn, lias been written out by your hand and -riven to the world. I had thought you ho reserved," bitterly. "I never dared flitter myself that I held even one of the keys to so pure and womanly a heart; but you could unlock it and expose it to every rough and vulgar eye that willed to look. Jocelyn, bow could you so abuse my confidence? How could you sullv the silence and sweetness of a per fect love? How could you drag a jeer ing, aoornful mob into the white sanct uary where , no unbeliever's foot bad trodden before? I am terribly disap pointed in you. I thought I understood nil vnnr innocent soul, but this shame less parade " he threw the little whito and gold volume on the table with a gesture more expressive man worus. And Jocelyn. with a piteous look in her large eyes, with whito stunned lips, stood sileut. Tins man, her prince, who had led her to the kingdom of the sun, radiant with uuimagined glory with the dark passionate eyes, and the eagor woo ing lips; who had crowned her and throned her, and who now stood before her a relentloss judge! She saw the gates of night shut out her kingdom of sunshine, she saw herself a beggar, ragged and houseless, whore she bad 1 a. nnpen! And then, without a irnrd with onlv that long, spoeohless, i,o,.io lnnk. she went swiftly from the room. She had meant to surprise him ah, the crnelty, the mockery of it! Until noon she sat in the little white room with i,r head in her arms, too miserable to think. And then she rose slowly and slipped the diamond off her flnger.sealed the little box that held it, and directed it in a steaay naou. xucu ouo wardrobe and drawer, and when the luncheon bell rang at half past two, she went down stairs quietly. Her mother sat at the table alone, and Jocelyn went and knelt down at ber side. "Mamma, I have packed my trunk; I am going to Uncle Gerald's on the seven o'clock train to morrow morning. You will not refuse me?" imploringly, and then in a whisper, "Phillip-and I-we have I have sent him him back his ring. Mamma, I can go?" "Yes, my darling. Mother's little woman!" folding her in her arms with infinite tenderness. She understood per fectly this deor woman. And the mute anguished heart of the girl broke into sobs and tears on the loving breast. And PhiUp. Like the rest of us he realized, too late, tbe preciousness of his -i,on he had lost it. For a i I 1 rtM, .1,. nnana.i l,n week he was proud ind bitter, but when he found the ring upon his desk, he awoke with a strange ache and fear at his heart, and rushed to the bouse tw had enshrined bis love, but it was closed and deserted. He was well pnn- iahed for hi. cruelty . two. would ever no -sr - blossomy little story? . And was it not one more beautiful tie between them? He had been a coward, a brute, to wound that loving. ?rini.ng He went to sew ioi.uu wu - tain no iniormauou. ""-j - - old friend, only knew vaguoly t! at she bad gone abroad with her mother and uncle. So be went back to hi work moodily. Once in the year, in fever of unrest and longing.be had gonuuoros the ocean, but nowhere could he find Jocelyn. Her book had won a phenomenal suc cess. I would be afraid to say how many editions had been sold, and the press was unanimous in words of praise. All the critics were disarmed by the tender sim plicity of the story. It was even called the most perfect story that bad ever been written by an American woman. By and" by another book was ushered out upon the tide of popular favor, "A Dream of Fair Travel, stronger, more powerful than the first. The work of a woman, not a girl. Three years passed, how slow, bow fast, only eaoh heart can tell. Philip had won the place he had toiled and striven for. He was successful and very wealthy now, but happiness and content had gone from him. ao other bead bad ever lain where the golden one had rested; no other fair lips had ever touch ed his own. He was lonely and sad, the moro so that he wore a careless front to the world. Three years of sun and shadow in foreign lands, and Jocelyn was home again. This Jocelyn was calm and stately, with no winning outbreaks of girlish enthnfiasm,with no vague dream and Runny reveries, and piuuaut co quetries. The wild-rose blosm had g ne from the delicate fuce, the "pallor o' the pearl that's fit in a fair womnu" was there instead. The lips auiilod less often, the eves seldom flashed and dark ened, and sparkled. Gravely sweet and dignified, she bail grown into a roost beautiful and craeious woman. Tho bud had becomo a perfoct flower, foroe bad brought the blossoming time too soon, and nothing in God s world is so rare as the bud be it of roses or of womanhood. rinlipcamo to her, "Jowlyn, are three years of pain and remorse and hungry longing atonement enough for a moment's arrogant pride and senseless anger?" She grew very pale and half-turned away, then she turned to him fully. lie, too, bad changed. There were many lines in the handsome faoe: the dark eyes she loved so well burned with a smouldering fire, restless and miser able; there were many gray hairs in the dark tresses. He had been harsh and unkind, and he had wounded her cruelly, but she had loved him, and when can woman forget love? "Jocelyn, the voice was very low, "I do not ask you for your love, I am not fit but I pray your forgiveness. lie paused, but she did not speak "I have loved no one but you in my lifo it was because 1 loved you so dearly, so jealousiy, that I resented what I thought was a blemish nuou you know better now. I have been punished hardly for my mistuke. Have I atoned vot?" . She bold ont hor hand and he took it iu bis own reverently, but ber face was turned away from him. He waited a long time, but she did not speak. "Then he said gently, "Uood-nye! lie laid bis lips against the white wrist; the pulse beat fiercely. He opened the door with 03 heavy a heart as a man ever car ried, and turned for one last look at the cold womau who stood in the place of bis sweet cirl love bat was there in tho slight drooping figure, in the fair averted face, that drew him back with a wild bope, a despairing eagerness. "Jooelyn. look at me! be said sternly, She lifted her head, proudly, but a vivid rose-red flush crept across her face ber eyes wero full of tears, For a moment be stood breathless and when bo spoke his voice was strained and hoarse, despite his efforts. "Jocelyn. do you love me still; "Yes. oh ves!" she said with a great sob, and he drew her to his heart with a wordless thanksgiving, AnolhiT B oken eck lured About five months ago a teamster named!John Collery attempted to drive his team through a barn door, and in doing so bad bis neck forcod down npon bis breast until bis neck was broken Polioo Surgeon Stambaugh made an ex animation of the injared man, and found that his seventh cervical vertebra was fractured, and that the spinal cord had been stretched out nearly two inches. After his removal to his home, Collery states that he was laid flat on his back, with a sort of fence about his neck and head, which kept him immovable for over two months. Both the body of the vertebra and tbe arching laminie were discovered to be brokeu. and tho operation of joining them together with out pinching the spinal cord where it bad Bugged betweon the ragged edges, as descrilxid. is one of the most dimcuit ever performed. For a mouth the patient lay on nis uack, completely paraivzeu in one-half of his body, and but little feel ing in the other. If he moved in the slightest degree during the first fort night, be conld plainly feel the jagged edges of the bone grate togeibor, and for hours alter such an attempt ue was con tent to lie on bis hard bed without at tempting to move a mnsclo, for fear that the spinal cord should be crushed, and his existence ended in a twinkling. The etrrightest position attainable was required, and, to this end, Dr. Stam- bunch was compelled to refuse bim a mattress, forcing him to lie on a wide nlank. Collerv says that before bis eisht weeks of enforced nuietnesn were ended, be thought the board was made of adamant. The most dangerous time ex perienced, lie says was one day when an attendant told bim that a man whose neck could stand breaking as his bad was not born to be banged. His desire tolangh was irsesistible, and the shaking up his merriment gave him caused bis fastenings to burst, and the fracture came near breaking afresh. During tbe first five weeks he did not move a foot from bis first posture. The paralysis bas now almost entirely disappeared, and Dr. Stambaugh yester day promised bim that ho would be able to go to work within six months. The average fatality in c aes of clearly defined fracture of the spine is estimated at 900 in 1000. "There is always room at the top," said the hotel clerk with sardonio grin as be sent the weary guest to the ninth story. sites ma at qcwm "Yon are rigid, sir, in supposing have just been diieharired from Han Quenliu. I hear.l the captain of tbe boat give you a nint as l came on board, and be has seen to m.mv of ns. going ia and coming out, that he van Ml convicts as gamblers tell cards by their backs. I remember very woll, jiiat four years and mno mouths ago to-day, ou my way to the prison in company with sever J otb ers, that a portly old gentleman, who maybe bail a son of bis own about my age, looked at me kindly and remarked that it was loo bad to see such a good looking young man going to San Qucn tin. The captaiu glauced over to w here I sat, with my irou bracelets tucked out of sight, and with a laugh said he bail 'seen thousands of 'em just like me.' Perhaps he was strotohing a little, but that s the way of tho world. Everybody likes to exaggerate. "Do I feel sorry for what I'vo done? No, sir; not a bit. I went across on a seven years' sentence, and pnt in the time faithfully. Thanks to the Good win st, I'm a free man again, but I don't ewe society a cent. Tbe old J udge hod a groat deal to say about my youth, good character, first offense, am 1 all that, but I notice tho fellows with the influ ential friends got off lighter than I did, and didn't stay out their terms, eithor. That' tho way it runs. Everything goes by fuvor, and I dou't thiuk I am partic ularly iudulted to society under tho cir ontnitanucs. The dobt Is paid and that's all tiiero is to it. Now let us begiu again. 'Friends in tho city? No, sir; nono worth talking about. I didn't become a thief for nothing, and when caught, had too much sonso to hand ever what I had stolen to the legal shurks who bang around tho criminal courts. Sooner or later I knew the blow must fall, and was preparod for it when it did come. "You never saw such a man? Well, I'm certainly no common thief. I haven't asked for your money or your sympathy, and am abundantly able to tuke care of myself. No offense, sir; but that's just how I feel. Now, tho boat is near the dock and we'll say good by. Will you shake bands? Yes; well, you're a good follow, at all events, and I sup pose, a poor devil of a "con. as tbey call us over there.ought to feel grateful; but that s not my style. 1 feel just as good as anybody, aud ask no favors, I'm going to put up at the biggost hotel in town, and, if, as you say, you want to hear from me further, shall be glad to see you any time iu the afternoon. I never was fond of early rising, and have had bo much of it of late, that I propose to make a change in that respect at least." The arrival of the boat here put an end to the conversation, and the two men shook bands and parted with an agree ment to meet again in a day or two. At their next meeting the ox-convict said: "You are prompt, I boo, and I suppose it is the proper thing to feel flattered by the interest you take in my personal his tory. I confoss your coming is a sur prise. On leaving the boat I hardly expected to see you again, notwithstand ing our appointment. You know how those things are. Poople got tired. But now you are bore, be good enough to sit down, and I'll ring for a bottle of wine. What is your favorite brand, Mr. B.? I have to laugh myself at the question, considering the past five years, but 'the old time comes over me,' and J fuel with that in my band (daintily holding up a check for $1000), that 'Bichard is him self again.' or soon will be. "Now to my story. Before coming to California I was what you might call a bright, sharp, intelligent boy. t atner was in business, and after giving me a prettv good education, started out for myself. The old gentleman was in the hardware line, and didu t think it sum oiently bightoned to suit my ideas. His ambition was to see me a banker or speculator. 'Look at Brown,' ho usod to say. or 'Jones, bmitn and Thompson. They all had to 'hoe tlioir own row, and see what fortunes they have made on Wall street.' Woll, be was eternally impressing upon my mind the vital neo- essicy oi inaaing uiuuojr, wuuuui, Barmy anything about being particular as to the means by which it was to be made. . . , 1 :.i 4 : .. Of courso he didn t moan anything wrong, amd was thinking only of busi ness methods. In our own store, bow ever, and at Clark & Ford's, where I stopped a year. I found that 'business methods' em brucod trickery, deceit and falsehood. All manner of sharp practices were resorted to without a thought of dishonesty or dishonor. With such toaohings and experiences I was thrown into the whirl of financial bnsinoss in New York, a mere boy in years. Our house had a number of clerks, but the senior of the firm was an old friend of my father, and that caused me to bo trusted and put forward more than others of my own age. lor a while everything went on beautifully. I won golden opinions on all sides, and was complimented and praised at a great rate. I really began to think myself quite a genius, and honestly thought I could make a fortune in a very short time by investing my savings in a certain stock operations on the street. What followed is the old story. My own little pilo went, and then a few hundreds belong ing to the bank, which were put in with perfoct confidence of being able to make good at the proper time. Twice tbe old gentleman came to my assistance, with earnest paternal admonitions of greater caution and circumspection. Then came a discovery and threatened arrest, but tbe matter was bushed up ana i found myself on the way to Ban i ran Cisco with a bundle of letters of recom mendation. I can assure you, however, it waa a bard thing to leave Wall street. It seemed to me as if I were leaving millions that conld be had by a lew suc cessful turns. "On arriving in this city I found busi ness very different from what it was in the East. Resolving to turn over a new leaf, and avoid the vortex of specula tion, I secured a good position with a' mercantile firm, and set to work in earn- ext. Here, too, 1 found Dusiness methods didn t scruple at trines, and mora than once felt disgusted at the mis erable hypocrisy and petty frauds coun tenanced and tolerated if not ad vised and encouraged in mercantile pur nils. I tell you. sir. this sort of thing used to shake my honest intentions fear fully; and I remember on one occasion, after a peculiarly sharp transaction in trade, when one of my employers, who was serving on i'lry in the crimiual comt. bexin btMxiiuiz about finding hoodlum guilty of stealing a few dollurV worm oi leather from warehouse on the water front, that I quietly asked him wuii'u was me worse oi tne two transac tions the bov's or ours? He didn't ao pear to know what to any at first, ut laugniugiy replied : 'Oh, that s anotuer thing entirely. Thuro's no law against what we do.' "Soon after I had got fairl settled. and was congratulating myself ou laying up a lew dollar in bank, there came a big 'boom' in mining stocks. Every thing was goiug up up 1 up 1 Every body grew excited and was crazy to in vest. The whole town was at fever boat. My employers gave orders through a broker occasionally. All the clerks 0xuly did the same thing, including myself. I had an old schoolmate wbo was superintendent of a rich mine iu Virginia City. I told my employers about it, and thoy gave mo money to go up quietly and see bim and got 'points. ne was enthusiastic about his mine. It was a bonanza euro. Uo also promised to 'post' me on other mines. On my re turn I invested all the money I bad, on the atreugth of his assurances, aud my wealthy bosses put some thousands of dollars in the same venture. It turned out well, and we triod again. Buforo a month had passed my chock would have been honored for 10,000. Not a large amount, you will say, but it was pretty good for a olork ou a salary of 11500 a year. Well, my employers time and agaim come to me for 'points,' and repeatedly pressod mo to take tlioir nionoy and in vest it for them. Even whon I got afruid the markot would break, and re solved to stop iu time, they made light of my timidity and urged further in vestments on their accouut. The result ras that I became infatuated with the thing. Day and night I thought of nothing else. It bauuted me wherever I went. I was on the street every hour, to the utter neglect of everything else, and tho firm mado no objection. On tho contrary, they appeared to take a fierce delight in spurring mo on. Why, evou tho wife and daughters of ouo of my em ployers, at whose bouse I was ao bon- orod guest, begged and implored me to take thoir money and buy whatever I liked. They leit evorythiug to me. I was at tbe topmost wave of sudden pros- Sority petted, consulted and flattered, o wonder I lost my hoad, and sought Borne reliof from the frenzy that bad taken possession of mo of me in fast life and reckless dissipation. My associates wore going it with a rush. They had fast teams and faster women. Why not I? They lived in luxurious apartments on Kearny stroet, gave champagne sup pers at the Mason Doreo, played faro at Briggs' and squandered nionoy without a thought of tho morrow. I was not slow iu following their example. Life, in those days, was a wild whirl of excite ment. My employers knew all this. I made no secret of it. They not only did uot object, but eagorly sought my ele gant quarters and enjoyed tho society of my fast companions. "Well, as you know, a chance came over the stock business. A weak market one day aud strong the uoxt, up ono day and down tho next, but steadily growing weaker. I could have quit with $0, 000 to my orod it, evon after the first shock of the earthquake was felt. The partnors iu the firm had made more than three timos that amount. mm we wanted more, and before I hail fairly realized the extent of my lossos, I found myself unable to koep up my margins, What was I to do? Already my employ. ers bad grown cold toward me for the loss of their moqoy. I assured them of my ability to oarry their stock, and did so for some time. Tho coldness and in treatment of those who had fawned upon me, put bad thoughts in my head. In plain words, I deliberately embezzled the funds of tho firm to a considerable amount. I saw. however, that a grand crash was coming, and determined not to be leu out in tue com. vv im wis object in view, I stopped paying mar gins, sold whatever I bad, and secretly put away over iv thousand dollars for a rainy day. Well, the storm burst, and the firm got a terrible shaking up. An examination of thoir books uooame nooosBary to wind uo the business, and I was found to be short in my aooounts as well as in m atook operations. There was no pity for ine then. I was arrested and thrown into prison. Everybody gave me the cold shoulder. The result you know. I pleaded guilty, and his honor, Judge B., sentenced me to seven years in the Stato prison. "San Quentin didn't prove to be a very bad place, after all. I found more kindness aud sympathy there in the timo of disgrace and adversity than was shown towards me by those who had wined and dinod with me in days of prosperity. Thero was no actual suffer ing in my imprisonment, for I bad my little nostogg laid away and took things like a philosopher. Officers and all said thev never saw such a contented fellow, and" made it pleasant for me iu many ways. iMy time boing up I loft the prison just as I entered it, neithor hotter nor worso. There is one thing, however, I want to say right here. I feund, as a goneral tule, that the poor devils in that place were very much like myseu. inai is. thev didn't do wrong for the love of the thing, but couldn't resist temptation and bad circumstances. "Now you have my story, and I ain't afraid of you 'giving me away,' to use a Viilgar phrase, for not one of the old firm is left in California. Besides, in less than half an hour, without an acci dent happens, I shall be on my wsy to Arizona. So good-by, once more and forever. I don't know why, but I wanted to tell tbe story of my life, and now it is off my mind i feel better. 'What! Yon live in Greenville, and know the old folks? Let me look at you again, for now your faoe seems like one I've seen in a dream, and your voice brings back tbe dear old times. My God! Uncle John, I know you now, and I'm ashamed to see yon ! , "There, don't aay any more, sir. I see how it is. Mother knows all about it, and you have come to lake me home. But in this yon will be disappointed, for I ahall never go back as a felon, to dis grace those who love me in their old age. I have pride enough left for that. But you can tell them that when 1 have won a fortune and an honest name in tbe new country to which I am going, and where my aname ia unknown, I will be only too glad to return and. tee them once again.". Uncle John took the Eastern bound train aloue for hi New England home, but he bad learnod a lesson about loose "business methods" which he will never, forgot. As for tbe unfortunate nephew, it only remains to be said that at last ao counts he was doing wall in his now field of labor, although still indulging his posaiou for mining speculations. Now however, it is the substance, not the shadow the mines, and not the stocks in which he s(eculatos. Dining In Transit. Another German triumph is tbe "trav eling dinnors" in vogue on the line be tween Cologne and Borlin. Between these two points, a matter of ten hours' journey, the train stops nowhere longer than five minutes. To enable tho pas sengers to refresh themselves en route, therefore, the guard inquires before start ing who will dine at Uanovor, and whon the train arrives at that station waiters deposit trays in tho carriages acoording to the number indicated by slips stuck by the guard on tbe windows of each com partment. The traya are eloctroplate, with a velveted support to rest them on the knees, and contain a whole assort ment of oovered electroplated dishes fit ting into boles to koep thorn firm during the oscillation of tho train. Removing the lids the travoler finds a soup or bul lion ia ono, a outlet with poas or beans in anothor. a fine out of a joint with two vegotablos in a third, aud some stewed strawberries in a fonrtb. Add a pint bottle of whitojwibe, and suoh oon- venienoo as a napkin and a toothpick, and the usual condiments and bread, and evon the stingiost travoler cannot be grudge the half crown which in asked for this neat little entertainment. By the time the train has arrivod at llaraio, half an hour distant, the meal is over, and tho traveler, bunding the tray out of the window, throws himself baok with satisfaction in the carriage to indulgo iu an after-dinner nap, whilo the Courier ing rushes on with the same admirable speed as More to its destination. There is no hnrry-scurry gobbling of food, as ou the English railways, tbe meal is comfortably and calmly eaten amid the joyous talk of ourriaga friends, and tho non-travoling ltriton experiences a per manent admiration for Suto-hold rail ways.! London Globe. , The Superintendent Explains. A committee of stockholders whioh waited upon the superintendent of a California mine to ask him why in tbe blazes the said mine hadn t panned out anything but assessments, were gra ciously received.invitod to bo soatod.and tho official explained: "Gentlemon, you are all aware of the fact that we bad scarcoly begun work when the mouth of our mine was block aded by a land slide. That put us baok a month." They nodded in thoir remembrance. "Then we had just got in shape to take out 4000 tons of ore, worth $2000 per ton, when the mino caved in. You recall it?" Thoy did. "Once more we bent ourselves to the . burdon of reaping $500 for every $10 in vested, whon the mine was flooded by a subterranean river." That was true also. "Then we bad just got the water out when we discovered that the mine was located on another man's claim. We had bim shot to prevent trouble, and once mote we wore about to deolare a score of 200 por oont., when the dead man's heirs put iu an appearance. There were three of them. We chased one over the range, had another bung by tbe vigilance committee, and I am happy to inform you that I have four men out aftor the other, and am every hour ex pecting to hear that he has tumbled off a cliff. Gentlemon, there is hope ahead golden hope. Please come up and drink with me; after whioh there will be an other assessment of 10 per oent." f Wall Street News. The Deadhead. "Why, you newspnper follow go everywhere for nothing," remarked a man to a reporter he met at a publio gathering the other night; "it must be a rogular picnic." Yes, it is, unthinking friond. We do go everywhere and have everything for nothing. We go to a church festival (for whioh we have done H worth of advertising), gets plate of soup with one oyBter, a cup of coffee and an nrgont request to be sure and write it up all for nothing. We paronizo the regular places of amusomsut pretty regularly (on tickets bought by satisfactory interchange of courtesioB with the management), for nothing. - We drop into a twonty-five oent lecture for the benefit of the poor heathen (for whioh we have done several dollars worth of preliminary) for nothing. Wo eat a thirty-five cent dinner at the opening of a new dining hull (that it took $2.25 worth of valuable space to call at tention to) for nothing. We rido $22 worth a year on a rail road line whose time card at regular ad vertising rates is worth $40 a year for nothing. We do all those things and more, and go to all these and many other places (for which privileges w invariably pay roundly in advance) for nothing. And when the last day comes to ns and we depart to the better shore, our beneficiaries, and perhaps our creditors, will read our obituary and pick our character to pieces and abuse us gen erallyall for nothing. Cleveland Voice. Tbe Clergyman's Call. A country rector called upon one of his parishioners. One of the children saw him coming and ran inw ine uouae to tell bis mother. The little fellow soon returned to the front and re sumed his play. The clergyman in quired: "Js your moiner at nomer "No. sir:" replied the child, "she is out at present." 'Tell ber when she returns that I called," said the clergyman. "I did tell her," replied the little boy. Yonkers Gazette. The wsy things are going now the enterprising railroad of the future will advertise "Brand-new time UblO( every morning."