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About The Columbian. (St. Helens, Columbia County, Or.) 1880-1886 | View Entire Issue (April 6, 1883)
YOL. III. ST. HELENS, COLUMBIA COUNTY, OREGON: APRIL 0, 1883. -NOr35r , A TTUOLET. The beauteous Ethel's father hss a Newly i ainted front piazza He has a Piazza: When with tobacco juice was tainted, They had that front j-iazaa painted That tainted Piazza painted. Algeron called that night, percham Arrjyed in comely sealskin pauta That night perchance iu gorgeous pa 1113; Kngaging Ethel in a chat On that piazza down he sat v In chat They sat. And when an hour or two had pass'd, He tried to rise, hut, oh! stuck fast .t last Stuck fast ! Fair Ethel shrieked. "It ?s the paint!" And fainted in a deadly faint This saint Piil faint. Aileron sits there till this day He cannot tear himself away Away Nay, nay! His pants are linn, the paint is dry He's nothing else to do but die To die! O. my ! 21 ALLIES AVE DDI XQ GIFI". Just over tho border of tiio next year, Februaiy was the month, and this par ticular February was not very far away, Philip Nasselt was to be married. He was to merge his quiet, laboous, hard working bachelorhood into what prom ised to be a much less quiet and hard working life of wedded happiness, j His acquaintance with Miss Malbon Russell was two years old, but its youth was not indicative of its warmth and strength. He was of that class of lawyers to whom their professon is an agreeable one for itself, and by. whom it is not re garded as a stepping-stone to political preferment or political speech making. Naturally fond of literature, he read much and believed that there were few books which would not benefit a lawyer. And so from reading and study his life became a quiet and retiring one, and his excursions into social atmosphere and the society of young ladies and gentle men were enjoyable because of their rarity. He was not a bookworm, but he had a gravity which twenty-seven years of life does not usually bring with it. He seemed to be just the kind of a husband for Miss Russell. Her father was of the opinion that she had chosen well, and he said as much frequently to his wife. She thought otherwise. Miss Malbon bore her mother's family name, which after sundry contractions and softenings had become "Mallie," and Mallie it remained. Mrs. Russell's ideas in regard to her daughter's welfare were confided to the only person in whom she had entire confidence and with whom she had long and frequent conferences that person being herself. ! "Mr. Russell," said his wife's mental Toice to its boon companion, her mental ear, "Mr. Russell is a very good husband and business man, but as the father of a young girl who is both an heiress and a beauty, I have bat an indifferent opinion of him. Mallie has not so very much money, to be sure, but she has enough to make her a very desirable wife, for her money is her own. If she was a plain, stay-at-home girl it would not make so much difference, but she is so pretty and nice that it is a shame she should marry a lawyer who is a poky old man before he is thirty." When Mallie's engagement was first talked of, Mrs. Russell opposed it strongly, and even after it became a fact she did not cecae her opposition. The only result was that Mallie thought her mother at times was disagreeable, and Philip wondered what he had done to incur her ill will. There was a pros pect that Mallie's good sense would be swamped when she first name otrt social ly, for she had a neat fortune which her uncle had left her when a child, and she was fond of all the gaieties which make up the life of the average girl. Of course she was flattered and petted and was in a fair way to be spoiled apparent ly, but she came out of it all unscathed, and at twenty-two was fitted to become a wife whose family circle would be her "ultima thule." Her great fault was her pride. It was sensitive as a mimosa leaf and hard as glass, and though hidden on ordinary occasions, it was like mankind, as it gained strength while it slept. She was medium in height, with large gray eyes, light brown hair and clear com plexion, and was graceful and strong. ! There is a general impression that Pittsburg is only a huge workshop, a ooty, dirty iron mill or glass factory, from which people hurry away as soon as they become sufficiently wealthy to admit of it. And yet within its corporate limits are miles of orchards 03 fragrant with apple, peach and pear blossoms in the spring as those along the Hudson or in quaint old Duchess county, New York. There are hundreds of country residences with wide lawns and cool clumps of forest trees around them; little valleys so wild that the gray squirrels chatter among the oaks and chestnuts, and arbutus blooms among the fallen leaves and melting snow; where the underbrush is as dense as in one of Du Cbaillu's jungles, and where the shy forest birds built their nests with fearless confidence that they will not be robbed by marauding school boys. Here the melancholy Jacques could wander with calm contentment, unbroken by notices of suburban property to be sold on easy terms, in lots to suit purchaceis; and yet he would be within fiiteen minutes' ride of densely populated, throDged ard busy streets, which would have delighted the cockney tasteB of gentle Charles Lamb. It is not that'the workshop of Pittsburg is small. but. that her city pleasure grounds were on a targe scale. Rambling walks and- rides throuerh these out-of-the-way books were Philip's chief recreation in the days before this engagement, and through him they be - came one 01 Maine a keenest pleasures. She liked to hear Philip talk of things wlncn sue only grasped in part, for al though far from being stupid or unread, she was a woman , who thought , phe should do much and her husband should know much. j y "I wonder why people say that people ho are in love alwavs have trouble? I ihn't think it is true'f f They bad driven down an unused grass-grown road, far into the woods, be yond East Liberty onb afternoon. Phil ip's horse had stopped of his own accord and was gingerly nibbling the bare branches of a bush. Mallie was in a very quiet mood, and had been for several minutes watching the smoke curl up from Philip's cigar, until she spoke the thought which seemed a heresy to her. "I believe," she added in a pretty, dogmatic manner, and a suspicion of a frown, "that it is because people are weak or silly that they are bothered by things when they fall in lov. If a man and a woman care for each other and be lieve they have chosenwisely, that ought to end all worry. It may be, romantic to be worried, but it isn't comfortable" and then after a little pause "well, why don't you say something?" "I heard you ask a question, my dear," replied Philip, placidly. "But, being a woman, I knew you would answer it yourself if I did not interrupt you. I therefore waited until you satisfied me that my hypothesis was correct, and since then I have been wondering how long it would be before the ash fell from my cigar." j "You are a conceited man," cried Mal lie with a pout. "You; think girls don't know anything. You and your cigar are horrid." "The cigar is prime,!" said unruffled Philip; "as to the other; clause of the in dictment we are told that 'only man is vile.' " j Mallie's laugh was pleasant to listen to, and it was frankly forthcoming at what she called "Philijs absurdity." But she returned to her subject and said: "I'm sure you and I would never have any trouble. I would trust you in every thing, but if you were ever to deceive me I would never want to see you again." "Amen, my dear," said Philip, loyally, and he kissed her and told her "she was a very sensible little woman, and then he drove homeward. Said Mallie, demurely: "The Play fords are to have a party Thursday night, Phil." j Philip was intent on making a clever turn to avoid driving into two puddles, and he said nothing. i "Madge PI ay ford came to-day and in sisted on my meeting her New York cousin, for whom tho party is to be given" all in a inatterjof-fact tone. Philip looked a trifle vexed, but said he hoped she would enjoy herself. "I on't see any reason for your look ing cross, my dear," siid Mallie, with a quaint, combative air that she wore quite prettily at times. I "I am not cross, Mallie. I told you a day or. two ago that I would be unusu ally busy this week, and could only see you Thursday evening." Philip was selfish in the way all lovers are. "Well, and pray, Mr.! Crossness, what has that to do with the Playford'aparty?" then with a quick change of manner, she rested her cheek against his shou der and said, "you know I i did not forget what you said. I told Ma Ige I had an engagement and could not go oh! you will crush my hat!" The warning was unnecessary, for although Philip's 'arm was around her, he was mindful of her dainty, plumed hat in a manner not known to men generally. "I am sorry you cannot come in and stay for supper," said Mallie, when they reached her home. "Those tiresome old law papers are a nuisance. Now, Phil., be here early Thursday,! for 1 shall be all alone." . j As early as possible after office hours on Thursday Philip was ready. As he stepped into his buggy he heard his name called, and, turniug, saw one of his friends with a young girl beside him. "You are just the man I want to see, Nassett," said the gentleman, hurriedly. "I brought Nellie my daughter Mr. Nassett-1-! brought her in, Philip, to go to the theater. I have just received a message which calls me to Cleveland and I want yon to drive Njrliie out home, like a good fellow. Willyon? I he te to let her go home alone and have a long walk up from the station. j Philip was in a qnaudary. The young lady's father, Mr.Thorne, had befriended him in many ways, and beside that the cause of the dilemma was very pretty and evidently anxious jto be escorted home by her father's friend. The mat ter was quickly arranged, and Philip ex cused himself while he wrote a message to Mallie which he sent to her by his office boy. In lieu of note paper, he used a card on which hejwrote, "Have to do something for Thorne," and then on the other side he added, "He wants me to drive his daughter home. I will be with you at half-past eight." Mr. Thorne's residence was fully five miles away, out on the edge of town, and Philip gradually forgot his vexation and annoyance, as he discovered that his companion was as bright and full of fun as she was pretty. She j had only been home from school a short time, and she related some of her adventures at a fash ionable New York school, in a lively manner and with manyj animated ges tures, mimicries and drolleries. Philip was in nowise disloyal, but he was not entirely delighted when the drive was ended and ho said good night, to his fair obarge. Mallie had spent the afternoon in visit ing and shopping, and had remained in town later than she intended, to. As she was riding home she saw Philip drive by in animated conversation with a very pretty girl, who was a stranger to her, and she was astonished and rather vexed. Shortly after reaching home, Philip's card came, and when she read it she turned very white and felt sick. She .went up to her room and read the words again: "I have to do something for Thorno." c "It is not true," she cried. "He has told me a downright lie. I saw him with that girl, and he seemed enjoying himself." He has deceived me and I will not trust him again. I will not see him to-night, for he might tell me another lie and make me hate him worse than I do." Hurrying down stairs, Mallie told the servant that she expected a gentleman, but she did not want to see him, and that he must be told she was not at home. Philip drove up in front of the house, rang the door bell, and when the girl came to the door he stepped in and said, in his cheerful way, "I wish you would tell Sam to take mv horse around to the stable." "Yes, sir." stammered the girl, "but Miss Mallie is not home." "Not home?" echoed Philip, in won der. "No, sir." "Where is she?" The girl felt that she was getting into a corner, so she said boldly. "She is out aud she said she would not be home to night." Thoroughly astonished, Philip slowly walked down the steps and drove away, wondering what had happened. "It can't be that 6he was angry because I was late," he muttered. "She is too sensible a girl for that. I'll find out what it all means in the morning." And he did. It was but little sleep Mallie got that night. She cried till her head ached as if it would split, and then she sat looking out of her window think ing it all over. The more she thought of what had happened the stronger became her indignation and contempt for Philip, and very early next day she wrote to him: "I have been entirely mistaken in you, Mr. Nassett, and I find that it is best for a girl to listen to her mother's advice, as to men. I shall send you your letters and that will end everything. If you have any gentlemanly instinct you will not seek to intrude upon me, bat will treat me as if you had never known me. This was what Phillip found at his' office. It so unsettled him that be could not work, and he went to ask for an ex planation. He was told that Miss Rus sell had gone out of town on a visit. It was weeks after whea they met, and then Mallie's cool bow was returned in kind by Philip. His trouble had told upon him sharply, but no one knew what he felt, for he was not a man to have con fidants. He saw Mallie at rare intervals, and then only in passing on the street. In December he heard she was to be mar ried, and when a mutual friend confirmed the story he shut his teeth tightly and said nothing. A few days later he was told that Mrs. Russell was very ill and not expected to live. Two days before Christmas he found a bulky letter among his mail, which was addressed in a lady's writing. Ho opened it carelessly, but as he read it he thought he would suffocate. It was from Mrs. Russell, and it said: "Mallie wrote these letters to you, but as I did not think you two were suited for each other I did not send them. She does not know it and she must not, for she is to be married on Christmas day. I am sorry I did it, but thought it best then." Enclosed were two letters, written when Mallie came home from her flight after she had broken her engagement. The first one read: "Phil, dear Phil, come at once. I have- made a dreadfujl mistake and want you to forgive your loving Mallie." The second note was longer, and bore a date two days later than the other: "Oh! Phil, why don't you come? Iam broken-hearted. Will you never forgive me? I did wrong, but listen to me. I only read one side of your card. It said that you had to do something for Mr. Therne and could not come to see me. I saw you driving with a girl I did not know, and I thought you had deceived me. I did not know what you meant until I came home, and then I looked at the card again and saw what was on the other side. Phil, dear, you can't be angry when you know how I have suf fered. Do, do come and say I am for given, and am, as I always was, your own Mallie." In a postscript, as though the girl's mood had changed, she added: "If yen don't coine I will not write again." Stunned' and bewildered, Philip read the notes and re-read them, and then he broke down and uttered savage curses on the woman who was dying. When he calmed a little and began to think what it all meant, he thought he would at once see Mallie, but he did not go, for he re membered her wedding day but forty eight hours distant. It was not until long after midnight, when he was in his own room, that he determined upon the course he would take. He folded Mallie's poor little, piteous, ill-fated notes together within Mrs. Russell's letter and placed them all in an envelopo, which he addressed to Mallie, using the name she would assume on the day when she was a wife. Then on a slip of paper he wrote ''Mallie's Christmas and wedding present from Philip," and this ho put within the notes before he sealed the envelope. He as tonished the office boy by making his ap pearance at eight o'clock the following morning. 'Take this early to-morrow to the person to whom it is addressed," saia jf nuip, giving tne ooy tne letter he had written the night before, "and if anv one calls to see me, say I have gone East on business and will not be back for a couple of weeks. Just as Philip was stepping on the train to take his departure, a messenger pulled his- coat-sleeve, and, turning quickly, a note was placed in his hand. Opening it he saw, to his astonishment. it was from Mallie. It seems that his office boy, instead of waiting until the next day, had carried the note at once. The situation flashed through . Mallie's mind. Everything was now explained. To-morrow she was to be the bride of a man sne ma not love, tier mind was made up in an instant. She sent by the boy a note to Philip, and he arrived just as Philip was boarding the train. All there was in the note was "Philip, come to me at once." And Philip did come. He met her a moment later, and sneprang lorward to meet mm. it is not necessary to repeat what followed. It was only the same old story of con fession and forgiveness. It will not be necessary to say her wedding did not take place on the following day, and the man whom she was to have wedded "got left;" but as the marriage was more of Mallie's mother's marking, he readily acquiesced in what he well knew was a more pleasant arrangement. Whipping Children. A parent who cannot govern a child without whipping it ought to surrender the care of that child to some wiser per son. Sportsmen once thought it nec essary to lash their dogs in getting them ready for the field. They know now that the whip should never be used. Horse men once thought it necessary to whip colts to teach them to start at the word snd pull steadily. They know now that an apple is better than a lash and a caress better that a blow. If dogs and horses can thus be educated without punishment, what is it in our children that . makes it necessary to slap and pound them? Have they less intelligence? Have they colder hearts? Are they any lower in the scale of being? We have heard many old people say: "If we were to bring up another child we should never whip it." They are wise but a lit tle too late. Instead of God doing so little for children that they must be whipped to goodness. He has done so much for them that even a whipping can't ruin that is as a rule. But alas, there are many exceptions to thii rule. Many children are of such quality that a blow makes them cowardlv, or reckless, or deceitful, or permanently in temper. Whipping makes children hate their parents. Whipping makes them lie. Whipping makes home unpleasant.makes boys run away, makes girls seek happi ness anywhere aud anyhow. Whipping is barbarous. Don't whip. Letting $S0O Drop, A solemn-looking citizen appeared at Police headquarters yesterday, and beckoning the Chief into a private room, said: "You know that $800 robbery at my house that I reported to you yesterday morning?" "Certainly, and I have put two of our best men on the case, and " "Well, I ahem I have decided not to pursue the matter. You needn't take any further steps. In fadt " "You don't mean to say that you have recovered the money?" "Oh! not not at all." "Found a clue, eh?" "Well, n-o.-o-o, not exactly. The fact is the money was taken out of my trousers pockets at night, and and this morning my wife had sent home a new sealskin sacque." "Ah." 1 "And so you see I have about con cluded to let the matter drop," and with a deep sigh the bereaved husband drifted out. S. F. Post. The Ladles Preferred Clin. In a neighboring city where the in habitants are so very, very temperate that many of them Neal Do wen to say their prayers, a good old deacon of a colored church lately called upon the city agent for the sale of that article, which, if advisedly used, "cheers, but not inebriates." "Mr. L.," says the deacon, bending low and almost whispering into the ear of the obliging and affable agent, "Mr. L., I'se cum to get a quart of spirits for purely sacramental purposes." "Yes, deacon, I suppose you want some light wine, perhaps claret,tarrigonia or something of that sort." "Well, boss, if it doesn't make no sorter difference toard you de ladies dey have canvassed dis matter, and dey has come to de 'nanimous 'elusion dat dey would puier gin." We think the deacon got it. Boston Globe. She Didn't Die. All in the fashionable world, says the London Life, will remember that some months ago a charming and accomplished young lady met with a frightful accident through her dress catching fire. So severe were her injuries that life was despaired of.the and officiating clerygman of a well known West End church was sent for to administer spiritual consola tion to one believed to be moribund. To him the lady said: "As I know that I am dying I have a secret 1 will disclose to you only. I love you with my whole heart." The piompt reply was: t "You must not die, but live to be my wife." I am glad to add that this week the lady was married to the objeet of her affections. j Her Seir-Control. The power to keep still is very often a valuable one in critical moments. The lady echool teacher in New YorK who quietly and safely led all her pupils ou of a burning schoolhouse before they knew that it wason fire might have put them into a panic and imperiled many lives if she had not possessed the power of controlling herself. The following little incident on board of an English man-of-war flag-ship is no less creditable to the girl (Miss Susie Prior) who ap- pears prominently in it, uecanse sne teiis iuo Btory uerseu in a private jetter: 'After tea I went on deck for the air with Mr. Billy.the Commodore's son. As we leaned over the rails enjoying the orange sunset, suddenly I had a notion that T smelt a singed, smokv odor. I turned tojMr. Billy, without thinking anytnmg serious naa occurred: 'ir 1 were on shore I should say that some careless person had allowed the chimney to get on fire,' and at the same time I pointed to a particular spot in the ship. He cried 'Npnsense!' but stopped short. and raised his head as he too smelt the faint odor of something burning. In an instant his face became stem, aud a hard dogged light came into his eyes. 'Don't stir, Miss! Prior, till I come back,' he said. 'If I can I'll be here again in a moment, and he hurried off in the direc tion I "had indicated. Then it flashed upon me that yonder, whence the smell of the burning came, lay the powder magazine, j I did not stir from the spot where Mr. Billy had bidden me stay. It was not many seconds, though it seemed an hour, but the night wind was kind and felt like a cool hand, lifting the damp hair from my temples, and keep ing me from falling down in a swoon. Mr. Billy came back very quietly and spoke composedly, but his voice was low and his lip quivered. 'It is all right now, and safe,' he assured me. 'What was wrong?' I asked. 'Only a stupid fellow, who was assisting in moving the stores (thei powder) and who had no business to have a light there dropped a Bpark among some bagging and it was getting ablaze. Bat I got there in time to stamp it out; and the .captain of the gunners finished the business with a wet blanket. But how well you behaved, Miss Prior,' he said, forgetting his own conduct and appreciation of danger. 'If you had made a row and detained me, nothing short of a miracle could have saved !all on board the Conqueror from being whirled into eternity. Even if the accident had got wind and thrown nsj into confusion, there is no saying where the matter might have ended. I who am in the secret, shall thank you for all your lives, and for that of my dear old mother's twice over. Had a whisper of the terrifiis danger reached her, with my father absent, 1 am certain it would have cost her life on the spot.' " The End of a Beamy. Of the Duchess de Chaulnes, who ately died in Paris, the Pari3 corre spondent of; the London News says that her health was quite broken down by the scandal, excitement and weariness of spirit caused by her lawsuit and by the terrible habic she had acquired 01 using morphine. She was, while the guest of her humble friend, in a state of. constant stupor. Since her suit had been rejected by the Court of Appeal her life has been uncertain and reckless. She quarreled with her mother, and when she asked for hospitality at Villette, 6f a very strug gling family, she said that if it was re used she had no resource except that of throwing herself into the Seine. She had, as death approached, sufficient con sciousness to see a priest and give direc tions for her burial, and she asked the people she was with to telegraph to the Duchesse de Chevreuse, her mother-in- aw, that she was making a Christian end. Notwithstanding the absence of her hair, which she had cut off to sell but could not make up her mind to part with, the Duchesse retained her beauty to the end. The house in which she died, in the Rue d'Allemagne, is a sort of barrack in which poor clerks and working people lodge. Her father was the Prince Galitzm, whose conversion irom ureeK ortnodoxy to Catholicism! so exasperated the Czar Nicholas. She was sister-in-law of tho JJuchesse du Luynes, who is a leader of the Carlist section of the fasuionaoie world at Cannes. The correspondent adds: "I saw her as a bride. Never did a young and aristocratic beauty enter the world under brighter auspices. Her head was soon turned with adulation. She was not devoid of mother wit, but had not a grain of common sense." Tolnt Oat Your House." This was I a club dialogue and its sequal: i Q. What are you smoKingr A. An imported Havana. Q. How much does it cost? A, A quarter. Q. How many do you smoke a day? A. Half a dozen. Q. How long have yon smoked? A. -Thirty years. Advice My friend, with that amount of money you could have bought a house on Fifth avenue. - The parties quitted the Brunswick and strolled up town. As they came near the Windsor, the smoker asked: Q. You never smoke? A. Never. Sarcastic query Then point out your House. . A verv fashionable material for dressv home toilets is cream-white serged flan- 1 A. J ill. 1 1 .1 .1 nei, irimmeu wuu long loops uuu euus of white moire or satin ribbon: For young married ladies this fabric is made into tea-gowns and Grecian robes, with trimmings of lace and white silk embroidery or braiding. AlOi bUKTS. An imitation drum is hard to beat. Underwriters The editor's assistants. A pair of slippers Orange and banana skins. Wanted A new advertising dodge for actresses. Good advice, like vaccination, doesn't always "take." Language of the flowers You be bio wed. Life. It is thought that the tax on chewing. gum will stick. One way to give a man "a chance to rise in the world" knock him down. , Fannie: You are richL It i bettor to return a kiss for a blow. And a trood deal sweeter. An exchange asks. "Will the cominc woman work?'.' She will if sli marris a. lazy husband. How appropriate are names! Garments that have to be stuffed out with cotton are called tights. "Temptation" is the nama nf a salnnn in Troy. A great many men are led into it. Detroit Free Press. Cato did not be?in to learn th CItmIc language until he was eichtv-fonr ve&ra of age. Cato was mighty level-headed.- A little New Hartford thrwpAwi1d boy, in admirinsr his babv brother, ex claimed: "He's crot a boilod h and lilcA papa. Cleve Herald. Maine sold S125.000 worth of gum this year. The number of jaws that wagged in masticatincr the stuff is not yet reported. N. Y. Com.' Colonel Incersbll assumes to lealnra about hell. Let him wait flfiv vears or so, and he'll he a heap better qualified to taiK on tnac su eject. iioston Post. A; man who had climbed Mount BlAnn seven times in safetv was killed tha ntliar day while trying to go up a step-ladder. is prudence any use. Boston Post. The weather is never cold enough to compel the chap with a paste "ring- to , wear a glove on the band adorned bv the incandescent jewel. N. Y, Com. A Vermont man who Is applying for a pension says he distinguished himself by staying at Home during the war. Every body else in the village went to Canada. , A reckless genius with a talent for re search has discovered that the presiding officer of a caucus is called "the chair," because everybody likes to sit down ou nim. President Carter of Williams College represents himself in his removal from Connecticut, where he was born, to Mas sachusetts, as a "nutmeg coming to the greater." A question for lawyers If a flea bites i dog, and so enrages the animal that he dog bites a man, can the flea bo in dicted as an accessory before the fact?' Bos. Trans. An old sharp advertised :"Book-keeping taught in one lesson; teims. one dollar." He got a large class on the opening night, and. after they were seateel and the dollars rushed in, he said: "The whole art of book-keeping hinges on hree words Never lend them The Judge. Why They Ybxlkd. "What on earth uia&un yuu ttuuemuce mat you extract 1 . L 1 J - L L. teeth without pain? Didn 1 1 hear every patient you had up here yell?" "lou did, sir, replies the peripatetic dentist, "but those were shrieks of joy which they uttered, sir!. They were so delighted, sir, at being painlessly re lieved that they could not restrain "their enthusiasm. "Say, why is a hawk like an editor said our spring poet, pensively, the other day. "Because he soars aloft in the blue empyrean, and " . "Stop." That ain't it." j "Then why?" "Because he lives by his talons." They have laid him gently to sleep, where the weary are at rest, and board bills are an unknown quantity. A Mould -be King. The first of the would-be assassins of Queen Victoria has just died in the crim inal lunatic asylnm at Broadmoor. His name was John Goode, and he formerly hejd a captain's commission in the Tenth Royal Hussars. He was 'taken into cus tody on her Majesty's birthday, the 24th of May, 1837, for creating a disturbance in, end forcibly entering, the enclosure of Kensington Palace. Qn Saturday afternoon, in the middle of November, the same year, the Queen was passing in her open carriage through Bird-cage walk, St. James', on her way to Bucking ham Palace, when Captain Goode sud denly sprang to the side of her carriage and made use of threatening gestures and language. The Queen heard the threats distinctly, and on alighting from her carriage directed her equerry to cause the man to be taken into custody. Brought before . the authorities he declared that he was the son of George IV. and Queen Caroline, was burn in Montague Palace, Blackheath, and was entitled to the throne of England. Upon every other subject unconnected with the royal family he spoke in a most rational manner, but when the Queen's name was mentioned he became exceed ingly violent. He was committed to pris on, and on entering the coach engaged to convey him he smashed the windows with his elbows and screamed out to the sentinels, "Guards of England, do your duty and rescue your sovereign," He was tried at the Queen's Bench for using seditious language to the Queen, i and was sent to Bethlehem Asylum as in sane. He was admitted to Broadmoor in Maroh, 1364, where he remained until his death.
