Daily Wabash Express, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 19 October 1884 — Page 6

WHICH SHALL IT BE?

She etood there among the eorn, the' poppies and cornflowers, motionless as a statue, somewhat smart as she always was, with an attempt at gentility that made me smile as I noticed the long, cotton gloves, the lace fichu, the wouldbe fashionable poke bonnet that looked so out of harmony with her surroundings. There was a strange smile, half deprecating, half defiant, on her hand's some, gypsy-like face as I approached her, which, combined with her immobility, made me think that something unusual must have occurred.

For Kate Goldie and I were great friend*, in spite of the difference in our positions she being Farmer Goidie's only daughter and I the only child of the rector of the same little eea-bounded village. We had grown up from babyhood, knit together by the similarity of our circumstances— both the Barne age, both motherless, both only daughters of doting fathers, to whom we were equally devoted. l»ut here the similarity ceased. Our eharaoters were aa different as were our positions. Kate was all life, fire, energy a capital manager, abetter farmer than 'V her father full of health, spirits, and 2 with a very fair idea of her own talents while I, small, delicate, dreamy and romantic, and addicted to quiet employments, let her take the lead in everything we did in common.

On any other day she would have run to meet me, ana it was her unusual tranquillity that surprised me. I knew bhe had been out of spirits for many months back, and no wonder. Times were hard for the farmers, and it

seemed to me that every month Mr. Goldie had to draw In hia horns more and more. Had anything fresh occurred, any new misfortune that could cause ber to stand looking at me in that curious fashion?" "What is the matter?" I cried, as I approached iter. "Nothing is the matter I was but thinking, and I want your advice, MisB Florence." "It must be something very import- -#«& ant," I said, "that causes you to stand I |g still for full five minutes. "It is important: come, we will walk together and I will tell you all about

Gladly I assented, for I was burning with cariosity. She put her arm within mine, and proceeded, with her usual straightforwardness, and at times jarring bluntnees, to lay the case before me. "You see, Miss Florence," she began, "they both wants" "Want," I corrected. "Well!" impatiently, "didn't I say 'wants' to marry me, and I don know which to take. I was thinking about it when you came up." "But who are 'they'?" 1 asked, "are "they' Jim Taylor and Walter Butler, for if so" 't%A "No," sadly, "not Walter Butler /•Yj it's Jim Taylor and David Wardour." "But,Kate,you puzzle me,I thought," in a low voice, "I always fancied that it was Walter"

I was not speaking of myself, but of them. Jim Taylor and David War-

,lour

which shall it be

•ifc1 «i

withdrew my arm from hers in

transport

tare for Walter?"

w,'J It was her turn to be indignant now 3f4 @he turned round on me fiercely. H' "Walter, Walter," she said why do you keep on talking of him? Ah!" with something that almost sounded like a sob, "how stupid you are!" H'V "Then you had better not ask mv advice." I answered, highly offended, *imt she did not heed me. "Miss Florence," she continued,

c'what

I want to know is this: which

is the richest of the t^vo and which is the kindest-hearted. Mr. Bowles has known them both ever so long have you heard him say

But I was too indignant to answer her question. "Kate," I uaid loftily, "I am ashamed of you. I never thought that you would look on matrimony in that spirit it's quite shocking. Which the Tidiest indeed! Oh! it is horrible it ought to be no question of money one of which you—you—love the best. I never

During the

thought you would

j^mgrldly." *TIWij«-,Klorencef you are a goose, •was Kateta unmannerly rejoinder, as she walkeraway from me towards her own homeffleavmg me still with anextAt pression ft conscious virtue depicted •4, on my countenance.

dayB

that ensued I saw

nothing eft Kate and by degrees it dawned ¥n me that we two

old

friends

f. were indulging in the folly of a quarrel. I was, however, sincerely disgusted with her, and my disgust was increased when, a few days after I met her in the cornfield, my father announced to me I/# that he had heard in the village that h' ehe was engaged to be married to Jim -5'v Taylor. ii "You must go this afternoon and congratulate her, Flo," he concluded, quite unaware that Kate and I were sot on speaking terms. But this state of things could not continue, so I took his advice and went down to Haw**thorn Farm in the afternoon to offer jny congratulations and taoitly cry 1 J*axl

I found Kate looking ill, with dark rings around her eyes, and by no weans the blushing bride-elect. She received my congratulations very calmly. "He is here," she said "I will call him. Jim, come here and speak to Miss Florence. He is shelling peas for me," she continued "I always make him useful—I can't abide idle fellows."

I began to feel rather sorry for Jim. He came in, how ever, anything but irry for himBelf, radiant and blushing •"""—'rl: but as he was eminently fTujfliiln in my presence, Kate soon dismisstJlLhim to the peas again, jand resumed Iter conversation. She -••"was far more talkative than usual, being gm a rule rather silent. "Yes," she continued, "we shall tmarry very soon, so as to be well settied down before harvest time for you know, Miss Florence, we are going to live here and manage the farm. Father *3s getting old, and he worries himself »bout things, so now Jim and I will do it all, and—Jim has plenty of capital" ^-defiantly. "Oh, yes, it is all very nice,' I answered Bomewhat sarcastically, and

I am sure Jim is a good fellow, I Added more warmly "he looks it." "Oh, he

iB very

well then more

& .'^rightly, "I'll tell you what he is, Miss »^Wloreuce he is a right-down good fW iarm«r, and that is what, we wants Iv-^ere." "I am very glad to hear it," I anSewered, and very shortly after took my ^%eave. There was a constraint about %is both that made the interview any^Sthing but satisfactory, and I was -^•pleased—almost for the first time in life—to leave sweet Hawthorn

Vtfarm, where I had always been so Happy. There

was

ness

a sad alteration

«nce the days when 1 used to go

since tueaayt

inhere in Kate's holiday-time, and eat strawberries or cake. accordmg tothe reason of the year then everything about the place had been bright and •prosperous now all spoke of want of moneyT True, it was as tidy as, under the circumstances, it could be, but it was a shabby, poverty-stricken tidi

compared to the old days of ®P1C*-snd-apan neatness, which it was to be loped Jim's capital might restore.

Xe I walked through the village street towards home whom should

"I'm sorry for that," I replied. "I am afraid you are rather a rolling sione." "I am not a going to stay in a place where I am rot trusted." he responded, almost impertinently. Then: "So Kate Goldie is going to be married? I wonder how Jim Taylor will like keeping that old father of hers? I reckon he won't make much out of that place, as has had nothing put into it for the*e many years pwt." "That is his affair," I answered. "Good evening.. Walter." and passed on.

Six week a later Kite Goldie and Jim Taylor were made man and wife in the little village church To my mind, Kate looked beautiful. Her simple white dress and bonnet became her better than her ordinarily rather smart attire, and her unusual pallor was an improvement to ber. 1 he happy pair went etraigbthome to Hawthorn Farm, and began the business of life at once, The whole affair seemed sadly lacking in romance.

All this time Walter remained idliutf about the village, picking up a few shillings at hay making, harvesting, et-, unci harm ting Hawthorn Farm as soon es ever Mi. atii -Mr*. Taylor were settled there. He would stroll up to the house and present his handsome face at the kltcbe window, where Kate would be busy with her cooking or ber baking, or he wonld walk boldly in and offer to help her with anything in which she was employed. On some pretext or other he

was

never long absent, and soon

my father began to look grave about it and-to say he feared that Walter Butler was not up to much good, and that the village people were beginning to talk.

In those days I often used to go and see Kate and always found her busy and industrious, but with a haggard, worried look in her eyes that ought not to have been there, for her affairs were looking up—the harvest was a

good

one, Jim worked like two men, fences were repaired, more hands were talon on, new machinery bought, and altogether Hawthorn Farm began to wear a faint resemblance to its former self. Old Mr. Goldie, too, was perfectly happy, Jim was an attentive and respectful son-in-law, and it seemed to

me that, except that her husband was too soft, as she once said to me, KaU had nothing to complain of.

One afternoon when I strolled there I found, to my annoyance, Walter Butler, with a pipe in his mouth, sitting in the beBt parlor, while Kate sat in the window mending. I at once evinced my displeasure by saying, with marked coldness: "I will notsta}, Kate, as I see you are occupied," and I was about to withdraw when she fluug down her work and came after me. "Oh, Mies Florence, do stay—do stay!"

There was a ring of entieaty her voice that struck me, and I turned round again. "I can't stay," I answered, "if Walter Butler is sitting there smoking." "He shan't bit there—he shall go. "I thought you could not abide lazy fellows, Kate?" I continued somewhat maliciously. "No more I can,"

righteouB indignation.

don't understand you,"

"why

should it

cried:

you

be either,

when

Yea

Bhe

naBtv

VMLI

answered,

flushing. "I hate them! Oh, I hate

There was a passion, afire about her as she ejaculated these words that puzzled me and made moat once go back with her. We found Walter still lounging on the pretty chintz-covereJ cofa, but my presence seemed to make Kate brave, for she said to him: "Now just go about your business Walter, and take your

pipe out

of this room when Miss llorence Is coming into it." He rose sulkily enough. "Good-by, Kate," he said patronizingly, made me a surly salute, ana was about to leave the room, when Jim came in—fair, red-faced, debonair ns 1131ml,

Not so debonair, though, tha

he could not shoot a glance of anger and contempt at Walter Butler. "What be you a-doing here?' he asked, and then turned, after greeting me, to Kate. "My dear," he taul gently, "I wants my tea early to-day.

I stayed and had tea with them, and waB mors than ever struck by Jiin gentleness and goodness to his wile and by his innate good breeding. I began to think that Kate liftd married well after all.

Her manuer towards him was singularly vaiiable. One minute it was cold, the next warm it. was contemptuous, yet at times respectful—altogether a riddle. "What a good husband you have, Kate!" I remarked, as he left the room to return to his work. "Yes," she answered, "lie is well enough—he is very good to father and me—that I can't deny—but he's not much of a man," she added, with some contempt. "When you

marry.

Miss Florence, marry a man as will look after you." "Why, Kate, Jim is always thinking of you. I should not have thought that yon, who are so very independent, cared to be looked after so much." "You are not married, Miss Florence. You don't understand," and with this, for

me,

rather humiliating

remark, the conversation ended. It was but a few weeks after thisthat Jim proved himself the man in the sense I could not understand, in so sat iefactory a manner that he and Kate have been the happiest of couples ever since. Kate herself told me all about it in a moment of expansion, following immediately after the event.

It seemed that one day when Walter was lounging about her while she was busy in her kitchen-garden, Jim came in very quietly—he was always quietr— at an hour when he was usually out in the fields, with a heavy carter's whip in his hand. He walked up to Walter. "Now," said he, quite calmly, "I wants to know what business you always have here, prowling about my wife? If I ever catch you in this here garden or house again I will lav this —holding up the whip—"about your shoulders so now you had better be gone."

Walter stared in amazement at the fair-haired man. "You oaf you," he said. "An oaf, am I?"

encounter but Walter Butler He S -was sauntering along with his bands 5n his pockets, whistling loudly and looking anything but the lovesick swain. For the first time, good-lookine ••»s he was, his countenance repelled me, and involantarilv I contrasted it

With Jim's straightforwa«i, ingenuous face. How idle he looked too. JSurely he could not again have left his

When last I had seen hitn he oner to Mr. Groves, about

Baid

Jim "then

take this," and he gave him a smart cut with the whip. With a cry of rage Walter tried to spring on him, but Jim kept his head and eluded him. "Don't try that," he s*id, "or you will get the worst of it," and once more he raised the whip menacingly. "Kate, go in," he raid, with a ring of authority in his voice she had never heard there before, but she did not stir. How could she, when love and admiration for her husband were surging through her veins, and her heart was beating so that she could not move?

For one minute the two men Btood eyeing each other and then lithe and active Jim had^ seized Walter round the waist and thrown him to the ground. There was a cry of joy, of pride, and Kate ran up to her husband. 'Ob, Jim, I am so glad, so glad!"

you married me. But why did you:

never tell me how Walter persecuted you I would soon have sent him about his business. "I thought," rather sadly, and hesitatingly, "that von liked him to come." "And 1 thought," with downcast eyes, "that yon were not—not—man enough Jim, and I was angry that you did not show more spirit, and I said to myself, 'you were but a poor thing.' But now, with a glow of pride, "I know differently, and oh! I am BO ^lad he is gone. He is a bad one, he is.'

Jim drew her to him and kissed her. "He is a bad 'un Kate, and do ycu know why be became so cool and distant to you after asking you to marry him? Because he found out that affairs here were in a bad way and tr.at you would have uncommonly little money, instead of a great deal, as he had fancied. Don't you think you are well rid of him for a husband. "1 do, Jim indeed, I ic.—and, Jim, have always been a good wife to you although I did uurry

yon

you were rich

because

and vrou

let father

live with us, but now"—in a whisper —"vou know—yes, you know" "Wh it, Kitty? Say it out load," "Whv,

you know that

love you.1

That is word for word as Kitty told the story to me. She is a com^-'.y matron now, with half a dozen children about her. I am still Mies Florence, not having yet found the man equal to looking alter me.

CHANGE OP SEX.

A Well-Authenticated Caae Reported at Chicago. CMoagq Speaiil.

A ease of change of sea, which on acount of the prominence of the partits interested has attracted considerable interest, has juat been made pnbiie. Mr. John C. Spry, of the Gardner & Spry lumber company, is a wellknown, wealthy and respected citiaen. His residence is upon the northwest corner of Loomis and West Monroe streets, a fashionable neighborhood. His family consisted of rour girls and three boys up to about two months ago. He now has four boys and three girls. The eldest daughter, Miss Eliaa Spry, was married a few yearB ago to Mr. John Harvey, of the firm of Harvey Bros., clothiers, but is now a widow. The second daughter, Miss Harriet Spry, was brought up as a girl and considered herself ae such. Much care was spent on her training and education. She attended the WeBt Division High School, and was a frequeut visitor to the natatorium, where

Bhe

was con

sidered an expert swimmer. Her powerful frame and awkward movements and athletic manner excited suspicion among her girl friends. She made rapid and satisfactory progress with her studies. There came a time when a manly down adorned her upper lip. Her voice, too, deepened from its not unpleasant contralto and was alternated with the full chest tones of a basso. The young women ot the school were quick to see all these indications, and their suspicions were aroused. The matter was brought to the attention of the teachers, and Miss Hattie was sent home. When MisB Hattie had been borne some days she had a private and confidential conversation with her mother, which resulted in the calling of an eminent surgeon, Dr. Moses Gunn, well known in medical circles, and a preliminary examination and coiroboratory circumstances decided all parties that an operation was necessary When this Harriet, ... suit of her brother's clothes, had her hair cut, bought a razor and entered upon a now career as a young man. A day or two ago, in company with his brother, he departed for a school for bovs and young men in the city of Boston, where at

was concluded, Miss

now Harry Spry, put on a

laEt

accounts he was

prosecuting his studies dilligently and fitting himself for the battle of life. A number of physicians spoken with upon this very interesting case says there are few like it on record in the books of medical science.

London and Paris Omnibuses. Iioudon Daily News.

The

ittery of imitation seems about

to be offered in our much-abused London omnibuses. Every Englishman who goes to Paris knows the comfort of the French vehicles. Inside the Beats are like arm-chairs. No crowding is possible every one has room and to spare while outside, if the comfort is not quite equal, the cost i6 only half. The three horses seem so strong that fatigue is impossible, and, if progression is slow, at least punctuality is sure. Yet the French are not satisfied, and not only are they not satisfied, but it is to the London vehiole they look for the model they would adopt. Two thousand Parisians have signed a petition for the substitution of English vehicles—a! loasi, vehicles constructed after the English fashion—in place of the cumbrous three-horso wagons that now lumber along the Paris streets. Indeed, the spirit of discontent has gone

Our liittle Sister Republic 8t. Louis Republican.

Venezuela is one of our sister republics which has had a great deal of shaking up by earthquakes and political revolutions, but still needs a little more of the latter. The government of Gen. Crespo iB making wholesale ar?ests of political opponents without even the formality of preferring tangible charges. The more prominent men of the opposition are seised and imprisoned in batches of fifteen or twenty, and their only safety lies in onen resistance to the constabulary. The extraordinary condition of affairs perhaps best illustrated by the statement that numerous ladies have been imprisoned for the purpose of extorting from them political secrets with

He looked at her wonderingly, but which they are supposed to have been did not answer, for Walter, with an evil white face, had risen to his feet, and finding his dispised antagonist too much fornim was preparing to beat an undignified retreat. The sight of Kate, clinging to her husband's arm, seemed too much for him. He shook hiB fist, speechless with fury, at them both, then slowly withdrew, turning round from time to time to repeat the gesture. But Kate and her husbaud had entered the house, he jnite calm and quiet again, a fact which impressed his wife with his strength of both body and mind not a little. "Did you say you were glad, Kitty?' he asked incredulously. "Oh! so glad. Jim, I have been so miserable. He would come here day after day, and reproach me with having behaved badly to him, and say that I h»d given my promise to marry him. So I had, but after I had said 'yes,' he cooled off, became quite distant like, and never came near me. Then I grew sore and angry, and when he went away to Mr. Groves without ever a word to me, I vowed I would have -whine more to say to him. It was that time that poor father

»««r.

ana when you --v vou I

intrusted. There have been cases elsewhere in which it was held to be necessary to lock up women to keep thfem from tellinz what they knew, but this is a way of making a woman talk which has a peculiarly Spanish-American flavor. It is gratifying to be informed that the Venezuela women have thus far proved themselves able to keep secrets in spite of the cruel treatment accorded them. A plague of locusts has fallen upon the most fertile provinces, and famine is added to the terrors of misrule.

Carpet-Beating by Machinery. A machine has been invented to obviate the necessity of beating carpets. It is a polygonal dram, formed of wooden bars and fixed on a sh nil revolving horiaoutally. It is 12 feet in diameter, 6 feet in length, and is inclosed in a chamber and driven by an Otto gas engine ot 12-horse power, which alio drives a fan for drawing the dost from the chamber. The carpets are placed in the drum, which is fitted with internal rollers,.and theae tarn the carpet over as Xhe drum revolves. At twenty-tws revolutions a minute, from 200 to S00 square yards carpet are deanfjd in an hoar

know all about that, NOT AS GBBAX AS HE'S PAINXBOIDr. Spann tes ifisd that

The Strange Contradiction"

th"

Strange Character of Petxr the Great.

Voltaire, in bis "Philosophical Dictionary,'? sfcye that Peter was "half iii.-.V hdK tiger." Half hog and iiaii tiger would be nearer the truth. Maci.uley declares that "to the end of his life he lived in hia palace like a hog in a sty, and when he was entertained by other sovereigns never failed to leave on their tapestried walls and velvet state beds unequivocal proof that a eavage had been there.'' He was naturally swinish in his tastes and habits, and displayed his swinishness regardless of circumstances or consequences. When William III. visited him in London, the air of the room was so foul that a window had to be opened before the English king conld enter. The naetinees of himself and suite almost ruined Evelyn's villa at Deptford, where the imperial party were lodged, and the owner applied for and received compensation from parliament. Twenty years later the pretty iittlo "Monbijon" palace, in Berlin, suffered in the same way from the same party. Then sprightly Margrar vine says that "the. desolation of Jerusalem was everywhere in it, and it was so ruined as almost to need rebuilding." Every one has heard of the important part played by the cane in the domestic economy of Frederick William I., of Prussia, but that eccentric monarch was nothing in comparison to his Russian brother in the caning line. Peter when the fit was on him, literally caned everybody—from his cook to his counselor, from the meanest peasant to the highest noble—sparing neither age nor sex. He would get up from the table and flog the host who was unlueky enough to entertain him. He would stand at the door of the senate house and flog each senator that went in, Lefort was an intimate and trusted fritnd, yet on slight provocation he was knocked down and brutally kicked by his imperial guest, But all this flogging was in the way of recreaation. When Peter "meantbusiness" it was a more seriousmatter. Incredible as it may seem, it is nevertheless well authenticated that one of his own sisters—it is said, more than one—received a hundred stroires of the whip on her back in the presence of the whole court. In 1713, Alexis, his only son who outlived infancy, was for some offence of no great seriousness several times tortured in the presence of the diabolical father, and a few hours later died—either from the effects of the torture or by assassination. For sympathizing with Alexis, the Princess Goliteyn, the bosom companion of the Empress Catherine, was publicly whipped by soldiers. For the same reason the brother of the first wife, Eudoxia—whom he had .thrown into" prison—was tortured and then broken alive on the wheel. An alleged lover of Eudoxia was tortured in Pete: 's

resence almost daily for six weeks the knout, by burning coals, and red-hot irons, by being tied down to a plank full of sharp spikes, and finally impaled. Nothing ever told of Nero is more horribly grotesque than this.

Miss Hamilton was a fair but frail maid of honor to Catherine. After a casual intimacy with Peter she bestowed her tenderness elsewhere without interference on hiB part, but when, to extricate herself from resulting embarrassments, she took to infanticide, he brought her to trial. Condemned to decapitation, she mounted the scaffold in a dresa of white satin trimmed with bows of black ribbon, looking more lovely than ever. But not alone Peter appeared at her side, and, strain, ing her to hiB breast, lamented that the divine law forbade him to spare her. A moment after the beautiful head rolled from the block at hia feet, and lifting it by the ear, he imprinted a last kiss upon the quivering lips.

The Prussian Ambassador Printz asserts in hia official dispatches that during the memory!suppression ot tiie Sicilian revolt Peter gave a banquet, cent for a score of rebels, and every time he drained a glass struck off a head, inviting the envoy to join in the sport.. With such sins laia at his door, it is scarcely worth while to mention lighter ones to say that Pe ter was a glutton, a drunkard, addicted to every rorm of sensual indulgence, an irredeemable blackguard and ruffian, sparing ivo woman in his lust and no man in his wrath, utterly infamous in all the relations of life, a scoffer at virtue in either sex, a mocker of religion, dying uve weeks after participating in the election and consecration of a burlesque pope. Yet this man, or monster rather, is paraded before the

W(-rld

far

tnat the system of correspondence and of tickots has been spoken of with disrespect, and we may well be astonished to hear it said that suoh things are better ordered in London. Our companies might at least imitate the French in their aeal to adopt the good suggestions offered by foreign models. In some respects we are lamentably behind. We have little system in the color of our vehicles or in their names, and none in the Betting forth of the route along their sides. The omnibus that goes to Notting Hill might be described to a stranger as green, and labelled "Bayswater," and yet such a vehicle might take him to Holland Park all along the Oxbridge road. In Paris a letter is given to each route, and the itinerary may be read continuously along the panel. With ns, prominent stopping places are stuck about indiscriminately, like old labels on a well-traveled valise. In a word, the French want speed and the English want method, and both are quite attainable.

as Peter the Great.

Blondes Out of Fashion.

Kew York Correfpoodwoe Chicago Tribune.

It occurred to me the other night while at the theatre that the blonde has had her day. Advices have not arrived yet from Paris, as they UBually do at this season concerning this subject, but from a casual inspection of the women whom I have seen at the Union Square, Daly's and Wtiuck's theater since Monday I am quite con vinced that the dark haired girl ia to be the go this winter. Every one must remember what a ridiculous blonde craze set in four years ago. No one knows exactly where it originated, but men were startled by seeing life-long friends whose hair had always been dark turn slowly or rapidly, as the case might have been, to pronounced and artificial blondes. It bogan to stem about a year ago that no natural blondes were left on Manhattan island. Nearly every woman had yellowish, strawlike, canary-colored hair, coupled in the majority of instances with dark eye'brows and eyes and a curiously inharmonious complexion. The fashion spread with extrordinary rapidity. The pepers teemed with the advertisements of quacks who agreed to turn hair to a golden hue for 75 cents a bottle, and the news columns of the same papers occasionally had sensational stories of girls who had become demented from the excessive use of these dyes. It was said atone time that if a man ascended to a reasonable altitude in a balloon and gazed down through the skylights of New York houses he would see thousands of women lying on their backs with their hair spread over a board bleaching slowly by means of soda and the sun. In this state of affairs agenuineblonde, or a straight up and-down, hot-temper-ed, freckled faced, red-headed girl becomes a veritable queen among the throng of artificial beauties. Now, ap parently, every one has grown weary of it all, with the result of a decidedly gratifying and much more picturesque nature.

Venetian Lace Revived. Madge in London Truth.

Here is a bit of good news for people who are fond of handsome lace, and we know their name is legion. The art of making Venetian point lives again! Queen Margherita of Italy, aided by several great ladies, has just established a regular school of lacemakers. When proficient in their art the makers are Bent into the islands and Iagunes of Venice to teach the mysteries of the bobbin, needles and patterns. There are already 4,000 pumls in the school and they can execute thirtv-four kinds of Venice point! It appears that by the color alone can a connoisseur distinguish this new lace from the old.

A Doctor's Pee Rednced fro in $e,OOO to $8,000. New lork Tribune.

George D. Sickles, the fatter of Gen. Daniel E. Sickles, now 84 years old, was suffering from strangulated hernia in February, 1S82. On February 18th Dr. James H. Spann performed "a difficult, dangerous and successful" operation, he says, npon Mr. Sickles, and attended him ontii April 10,1882. His bill was $6,000. Mr. Sickles refused to pay it. The doctor brought •ait to recover the same, and its trial

P%li» IV 4WWTW VU» Pnili^i wsv ended yeateri&y before Judge Lwae- town. Pa., has become inauie over more, in the court of common plea*. I loes, by theft, of $2,500..

THK THKRF HATTT" RXPK^S, SUNDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 19 T8R4.

he was in

on Mr. Slcklee

for the two months watching him by night as well as by day. He saved his patient's lif* and considered $6,000 not to large a sum for his service. Mr. Bickles himself,. in apparently good state of lraaltb, testified that be never employed Dr. Spann as a physician, butooly as a nurse furthermorehe cousidi ml ihe bill exorbitant. Dr. Ke)P, hi? physician, had charged only $700 for his services. Dr. Carnocban, wfio assisted at the operation, did not vary much in his estimate of the value of the services from that given by Dr. Spann, patting th» fee at $10 an hour. Two other physicians made the estimate at the rate $5 an hour. The junr after being out an hour, gave Dr. spann $3,000 with $255 interest

THE LIFE OP A OCR BY.

Ehj Occupation Handsomely Remunerated. New Tork Commercial Advertlaer.

"Who are these jockeys!" asked the reporter of an old turfman at Jerome Park. "They are stable boys who show some aptitude for riding, and have good pluck. Of coursewhen they start their lines are not exactly cast in pleasant places. There can be no more disagreeable life than that of a low-«lass jockey, banging around stables and begging for mounts. Such a one is everybody's scapegoat, everybody's butt. But for a steady boy in a good stable, who really rides well, obeys orders, and is honest, the life ie not a !ad one. Such a boy as Mr. Pierre Lorillard's Olney, for instance, wl is a quiet, respectful, reliable youn-- fellow, gets to be favorite with his employer, and is very well treated indeed. For a boy of that sort the pecuniary rewards are considers* ble. A salary of $80 or $100 per month supplemented by $25 for riding, $50 for winning a race, with occasional ex tra tipa for pulling elf a big event, easily runs up to $3,000 or $4,000 a year, or twice the emolument of the average lawyer, doctor or engineer, and fully up to the income of the captain of an ocean steamer, with his great weight of respon&ibilty. Great jockeys, of course, do much better than this. They are paid like prima donnas or fashionable preachere, but many of the inferior jockeyB get much less than the figures I have named. Then every employe is not as good as Lorillard's, and in some of the purely commercial stables the boys have a hard time. But, after all, an ordinary jockey earns better wages than a boy of his class and age could do in any other avocation, and is regarded as a hero and a swell by hiB own Bet. "But the jockey's life, of course, along with the emoluments and hon. ors, has likewise its shadows. His nerve may fall, when his occupation is gone, for race horses are often vicious brutes and very quick to detect a lack of courage and decision on the part of their ridere. Even worse, the jockey may begin to taken on flesh, when he either becomes too heavy to ride or is condemned to pass a life of martyrdom in the way of sweats, diet and medicine to keep down the growing corpulency. To tbiB forced wasting may be attributed many shortened lives and broken constitutions. Then, in a moral point of view, the surroundings of a racing stable are not especially delectable. There are temptations to drink and excess, destructive to^ierve and brain, and there are insidious temptations to dishonesty in riding. When the un. scrupulousness of many betting men is taken into consideration, It is creditable to the jockey that so few succumb. Lastly, there is an ever present danger from falls and collisions. The danger is not very seiious in ordinary flat racing, and even in hurdling, for but few deaths have occurred in the paft twenty years. Neither sort of racing is so dangerous

Buch

Bttt acciden® do cecur, and

if they do not cause death often have Isatii-g efleets in fracture and strain. "However, there are many jockeys, l.oth in this country and in England, who survy-e all the accidents and temptations of a jockey's career, and live very respectably to good old ages, A man's fitness or unfitness ia eoon ascertained, and the money and fame, if they come at all, come early in life, when the capacity for enjoying them is at its height."

Lilfe Insurance in France.

From a report lately issued by the Moniteurdes Assurance it appears that life insurance is making fairly steady progress in France, notwithstanding seme serious drawbackB in the system. In 1883 the amount of business represented by the various companies was of the value of 2,969,145,379 francs, which was an excess over the previous year of 208,964,850 francs. This Bum, however, does not represent the amount for which new policies were issued, which was 618,978,857 francs, while the insurances that lapsed from various causes were 310,024,007 francs. Of the total amount of the new insurances of the year 600,il5,822fr. were crediied to insurance at death, and 18,883,028fr. to life annuities. The payments arising from death during the year were 35,607,548fr., or about 1.20 per cent, as against 33i047,649fr.,or 1.132 in in 1882. The business represented by life annunities was less than in the year before, being 28,920,000 francs, against 30,537,000 francs,the new annuities granted in 1883 being to the amount of 2,632,184 francs, while those that had to be paid were 4,348,164 francs. But a very unsatisfactory feature in French life insurance is that the companies, in consequence of the active competition' having adopted the plan of giving a rebate of nearly 60 per cent on the first year's premiums and as the sum of these first year's premiums were 18,6GO,OOOf., 'he figures that appear under the head of "commission" or rebate were 10,639,216f. This taking the guilt off the gingerbread of the insurance companies is not the worst part of the mischief, for it leads to very discreditable action on the part of the insurers, many of whom, after receiving the first year's reduction, fail to make any farther payments on their policy, and go off to another company to pursue the same game. It is estimated that the sum represented by these dropped policies amounts to the enormous total of 310,000,000 francs, of which over 250,000 francs are due to deliberate canceling.

A Conscientious Actress. .• --wti'P New York Graphic. 'So yon have lost your diamonds again?" remarked an old friend to a popular actress. "No I've lost no diamonds, responded the actress. "I have no diamonds to lose." "Well, I should think you would bate to tell such sensational stories about yourself, then." "I tell a story about myself?" replied the actress. "Why, I wouldn't do such a thing for the world. I am truthfnl, if nothing else I have a conscience, and would lie awake all night if I should tell an untruth. No, mindeed: not I." "Well, who has done it then?" "I don't know, but I guess it most have been my wicked press agent."

A Crab-Shell Barometer. Philadelphia Preaa. A curious-barometer is used by the remnant of the Araucanian race which inhabits the southernmost province of Chili. It consists of the cast-off shell of a crab, which is said to be extremely sensitive to atmospheric changes, remaining quite white in fair, dnr weather, but indicating the approach of a moist atmosphere by the appearance of small rea spots, which grow both in number and in size as the moisture in the air increases, an til finally, with the actual occurrence of rain, the shell becomes entirely red, and remains so throughout the rainy season.

Hiram rubier, a miser of Klingersth#

waa

THK ITALIAN SCOCRGK.

Seenea in Naples Daring the Recent Cholera. VUltntlon Piteona Appeal* tot Help tram 1* Bereaved Mother. Naples Latter to London Standard.

The hiBtory of the present visitation has several features of unusual interest, When the first case occurred, although the course of the disease was closely watched by the entire population, and the man died, the physicians reported, after a post mortem examination, that the symptoms did not exclude the suspicion of cholera, but they declined to be more precise. Two more cases followed, and special precautions were taken, but still the dreaded word "cholera" was not pronounced. Forty-eight hoars elapsed without a new case, and press and people in great glee declared that the "zingaro," as the cholera is celled here, had no chance in our well protected city. This being BO, the people regarded with jealousy the disinfection of several places, and especially the cleansing of the infant school rooms and hence the riots occurred which have been reported. The population celebrated their supposed escape from the epidemic by feasting on figs, prickly pears, melons and baa wine all day on Sunday. Then on the Monday morning there could no longer be any doubt the slngaro was amongst as, and had made havoc of eight victims during the night, while forty others were attacked. The authorities were now on the alert the hospital at Cannpchia was ready with 190 beds. If only the sick of Porto, Mercato, Fendino and Niearia could be got to leave their slums in order to be cured, the general opinion was that all would soon be over. All energy was directed to these shamefully neglected quarters. Sig. Matteo SchilUzi, a noble philanthropist, of whom humanity may be proud, was the first, accompanied by a physician, to enter the foul courts, called fondaci, in search of the Bich. Money was the key to their doors, and with it he went largely provided. Every spoonful of medicine he gave the patient would only take after iseing bribed with five francs, and after the good man had first tasted it himself A much larger sum had to be spent to persuade the patient to go to the hospital, and to provide for his family during bis absence, and thus thousands of francs were expended in one morning.

the beginnlng ot the

cholera

Naples. No one would have

any

difference

noticed

in the usual aspect of

the town up to the 5th and 6th inst. The promenades and drives were well frequented even the theatres were moderately full—a medicine gladly taken by the Neapolitans, and highly commended as tending to induce an easy mind. Now,

however,

our poor

city wears a sad aspect indeed. Many theatres are closed, the actors having fled. No

carriages

are to be seen in

the Ooreo the cafes are empty at 9 p. m. what

vehicleB

one meets are

funeral care, and in the low quarters are laden with four or six coffins at a time. The few people Been after midnight hold some

Bweet-econted

their

nostrilB

herb to

to ward off infection.

waB

attracted to the Vico Violari morning while viBiting the quarfrantic cries of a woman

one ter, by the

who rushed out of her room on the ground floor, calling out: "Don't speak to me of miracles! No miracles!" A crowd of neighbors instantly collected, and I learned that the poor woman had just lost a grown-up daughter by cholera. The people pushed into the room, full of curiosity, to see the corpse, while the mother continued to rave against the saints. I heard that the young woman had been ill for four days. She might have been saved if Bhe had been taken to a hospital, but when I suggested this to a bystander he said: "If we must die, we mast, either here or there. There is no help for us till the 19 (the feast of San Genuaro). San Rocco has this time been powerless only San Genuaro can do it." Just opposite the scene of mourning a man waa seen in convulsions on his bed, some people watching anxiously at the door. They were waiting for the priest bringing the holy sacrament to the dying man. When the priest came in sight all the people, unmindful of the state of the roads, knelt in the street, and with them the bereft mother. The room in which the man was dying was fetid in the extreme, and so small that was scarcely any room for the officiating priest to penorm his sacred rites. Nevertheless, boys and girls pushed in behind him, utterly without fear of infection. No doctor was to be seen. As I left the quarter of Pendino I met an omnibus converted Into a funeral-car, full of empty coffins, a load of coffins with corpses being ready to be taken away in exchange.

As long as they continued the processions gave seme animation to the streets, the young women, with their long dishevelled and generally beautiful hair, looked highly picturesque, but their chanting of the roBary in nasal tones was very doleful. These processions were headejj. by rather suspicious looking youths, who solicited contributions from the passers-by or induced the people at the windows to throw down coppers. Bags full and handkerchiefs full were obtained in this way, but the objects on which the money waa spent were not very clear. The revival of saints' pictures, long forgotten under the mortar of many houses, and particularly at street corners, formed for a day or two another source of movement and even disturbance. Large and eager crowds, chiefly women and children, watched for the reappearance of their favorite saints, and one could not behold their sincere joy and delight when at last the image appeared in wonderful preservation witnout inspect for their religious feeling. Lamps were immediately hung around and candles placed before such images, beneath which •mall table was placed upon which coppers were dropped to pay for oil and candles. At night loud and fervent prayers were repeated before such shrines. In such times of revived bigotry it would fare ill with any one who should refuse to lift his hat in passing, nor was it wise to refuse a copper. The police, who sought to interfere with these illegal demonstrations in the streets, did not move, although thfc cardinal was not in favor of the excitement, bat the authorities were evidently determined not to embitter the temper of the already greatly tried people.

The audacity of the women was wonderful. They were the ringleaders in the riots on account of the fumigation of the infant schools. They stood bravely against a squadron of cavalry the other day, when they prevented the carrying ef stretchers through Chiaja, holding a big stone in one hand, and generally a baby on the other arm—perhaps their greatest safeguard. On the evening when the fearful figures of nearly one thousand cases and three hundred deaths were published a deep gloom extinguished the last sign of life in the streets. Everything was abandoned. Most of the well-to-do fled to the suburbs. Lodgings on the hills of Poeilipo and the Vomero were secured at exorbitant prices, the bands ceased playing in the public gardens and Naples lay for days under a deep clond.

Xancoln'a Treatment of a Bore. Ben. Parley Poor* in Boatoa Budget. Mr. Lincoln was terribly bored by men who fancied that they had some patent plan for conquering the rebels. Among them was a western man, who was patiently liBted to, and who, when he bad concluded, asked the opinion of the president npon his plan. "Well," said Mr. Lincoln, "I'll answer by telling yon a story. Ton have heard of Mr. Blank of Chicago? He was an immense loafer in his way— iniact, never did anything in his life. One day be got crazy over a 4 rise in the price of wheat, upon many wheat speculators gained large fortunes. Blank started off one morning to one of the most successful of the wheat speculators, and with much enthusiasm laid before him 'plan' by which he, the add Blank, ww certain

of becKmhiK Ind** pemlently rich. When he bad finished he &ued the opinion of his hearer upon his plan of operations. The reply came as follows: 'My advice ia that you stick in your business!' 'But,' asked Blank, 'what is my business 'I don't know, I'm sure, what it is,' says the merchant, %ut whatever it is I advice you to stick to it!' And now," said Mr. Lincoln, "I mean nothing offensive, for I know you mean well, but I think you had better stick to your business and leave the war to those who have the responsibility of managing it!"

SHE LOST JEWELS FOUND.

The A ecom pllahed Detective and tbe Two VlUalna. New TorkTimea.

It was night—night before last Mid night had just pealed from a hundred city towers. An electric light burned dimly in a wretched cabaret on the corner of University plaee and Eighth atreet. At a narrow table two men were seated, engaged in eager conversation. A bottle and two glasses were between them. The bottle was partly empty. So were the glasses.

were the men

The bartender was reading "Mother 'Can's Dream Book." The conversation between the men grew more eager and animated. At wis juncture an observer might have seen a face peer over the shutters. A moment later the door opened and a stranger entered. It is unnecessary to say that with one swift, sweeping, comprehensive seaiching guuice he took in every feature of the room, for it was Detective D. J. Larkin, of the New Tork hotel.

The detective entered noiselessly and glanced in the direction of the two men, who still conversed, with the unresisting bottle and tbe two glasses between them. Then he took a slip cut from a newspaper from hia pocket and read as follows: CI Kft REWARD AND NO QUESTIONS flvv A8KKD—For tbe return of tbe following artlolea of Jewelry which were loat alnce laat Tntaday, corner Waverly place and Mercer atreet: One cluster diamond with Ave large Btooei aet In Malteae uroaa, flnlahedIn black enamel oneaolltoire ring, aet In blaok enamel, atone medium alae one Sat gold ring, with dla. moud, rnby and aappblre aet In star figure: one gold Sat ring set In with turquoise: one gold sapphire ring one gold ring with two stones and one pearl. Addrees B. C., Station D, eity. "Ha 1" said the detective to himself, as be replaced the slip in his pocketbook, "I have a clew."

The bar tender overheard him. "Ton had better keep it," said the coarse man. "It is going to be a hard winter." "Good," responded the detective, turning toward him. "Make me a seltzer lemonade with a dash of ginger ale in it. I must keep up my nerve," he muttered to himself as he quaffed it to the very dregs.

Then he turned toward the table where the two men, the two glasses and the bottle were engaged in the afore-mentioned conversation. Gradually he inserted himself in the conversation, which ran on the question of St. John's majority in November. Adroitly the detective turned it to the theme of robbery and crime. The two men moved uneasily in their chairs. Without seeming to be aware of their discomfiture the detective watched them narrowly, while he affected to busy himself with a beer bottle. Bud denly be eaid: "I will tell you a story." The two men looked relieved. "On last Tuesday," begBn the detective, "some persons who were putting up at the New Tork Hotel went out shopping. They purchased a magnifi cent cluster diamond ring and five smaller rings."

The detective stopped suddenly to note the effect of his words. One of the men seemed much agitated. The other waB hardly less so. The beer bottle was perfectly cool. The detec tive found that the beer was a trifle warm. "With these rings in a package," he continued, "they started towards the hotel. At Mercer Btreet and Waverly place they* stopped to wonder at a knight in armor who rode by on a mail clad steed, with a patent salve ad vertised upon his gorgeous trappings. Lost in wonder and admiration they dropped the package, and"—

Tne detective paused again, and then added suddenly: "Two men picked it up."

The men who sat at the table started BO violentlv as to agitate tbe beer bottle. The detective eyed them narrowly. The bartender was asleep. Not a sound was heard but tbe ominous ticking of the clock and the snoring of a gendarme in the family entrance. The detective again proceeded with his story. "They reported their loss at the ho tel," he said, "and a reward of $160 and no questions asked is offered for the return of the property--" "And yon," gasped on® of the men, half rising from his chair. "I," said the detective solmnly. "I am— "Charlie Boss?"almost shrieked the other. "I am Detective Larkins," said the officer. "See, here is the strawberry mark on my left arm." "Itis he!" screamed the two men with one voice. "Where is the package?" asked the detective. "Here! Here it is I" said the two men again, and they produced it.

The detective bore it away and restored it to its owners, who incarcerated it in the hotel cafe, where it still remains. Tbe two mysterious men have got part of tbe reward—the "no questions asked" part. They will not get the rest soon enough to make any election bets with it.

The New Orleana Cotton Show.

Tbe World's Industrial and Cotton Centennial exposition, which is to commence December 1 in New Orleans, is to be in some respects more interesting and important than the Philadelphia exposition of 1876. The principal building is the largest ever covered by a single roof. This edifice is already completed, and work is progressing rapidly on the United States States and Louisiana state buildings. The number of structures is large, embracing accommodations for industrial, horticultural, art, and other exhibits. The general government appropriated $1,000,000, the state of Louisiana $100,000, and the citisens of New Orleans 1500,000 towards the expenses of the undertaking, thereby furnishing ample means. The term of display will extend from December 1,1884, to May 1,1885. The attractiveness of the climate will add to the pleasure of a midwinter trip to New Orleans daring this period. ^."5

A Bee Exhibit.

Richmond Dispetch.

At the Virginia state fair at Richmond, which opens October 22, one of the principal attractions will be tho bee and honey exhibit. This feature will be shown under a mammoth tent, 40 by 60 feet, with an annex 12 by 20. One exhibitor will show eighteen esses of living

bees,

representing twelve species

or varieties, with their queens and

Sttest

rogeny. In addition, one of the and best systems of queen breeding will be fully demonstrated and explained. In fact, the display will be a model apiary, conducted on scientific principles by one of America's beekeepers, who has spent over, thirty years in the study of the bee.

Saving Liftlioffrapbic Stones. A new application of granolithic, a species of concrete recently introduced for road-making purposes, is proposed by an Edinbarg inventor. He coats tbe back of lithographic stones with a backing of granolithic which strongly adheres to the stones and forms one solid mass capable of sustaining great pressure. If extraordinary strength is demanded bars of iron or efceel may be imbeded in tbe granolithic mixture while It ia yet plastic. Lithographic atones thus fortified, if only an inch thick, are made thoroughly serviceable and continue to be so until worn to a thin film.

A FAMOUS TROUSSEAU.

What Miea Caroline Agtor Baa Secured tram the-BortModlitai. New Tork World.

Miss Caroline ABtor's wedding trousseau, lately arrived from Paris, is one of the finest ever brought to this country. In every respect are the various dresses examples of perfect taste, simplicity and elegance of design, and in their execution the talent of the very best Parisian workmen has been employed. The wedding drees was made by Worth, and is said to be one of the handsomest that ever left his establishment. The entire dress is made of white satin, embroidered by the most skilful fingers in Paris. The design is a clamp of roses done in threads of silver. This delicate work on the soft shining background glistens like the san on new* fallen snow, and is certainly most appropriately termed "frostwork." The front and sides of the skirt are artistically garlanded with half wreathes ol oransfc blossoms. The basqne is short, opening In a in front, with sleeves reaching to the elbow, and finished with wide raffles of point lace. A plaiting of the same lace completes the neck trimming. The veil is of a very rare and costly Brussels point, is fastened on the head with diamonds and orange blossoms, then falling to the floor extends two yaitla upon the train. The ornaments will consist of pearls, and the diamonds formerly owned by Mrs. Astor, but now presented to ber daughter.

A very handsome dinner dress is made of pink ottoman silk, the silk forming the background for raised pink velvet roses, which araoutlined with delicate pink pearls. This brocade forms the front and sides of the skirt, and tbe train, which is small and pointed, is of the plain ottoman silk. The waist of pink crape has a plaited surplice front and a wide belt.

A white ball diess 1b made of gause embroidered by hand with white floss silk.- The pattern is a large Boallop and

each

scallop is

Bet

with roses. The

suit is completed with a white basque of white velvet, decorated with long white ostrich plumes.

Another dinner dress is an exquisite pale blue satin. The entire front and sides are draped with flounces of delicate lace, through which are run twisted threads of gold. Over the bine satin this flimsy lace, with its rich yellow threads, produce an indescribably beautiful effect, while, to add to its magnificence, here and there it is caught up witn bunches of deep pink roses. The train is very long ana plain. The basque is cut low over the shoulders, is without sleeves and is ornamented with rich lace and clusters of roses.

Another of Worth's dresses was especially designed for Miss Astor and is the first of the style. It is called the Empire, and is a modern adaptation of the old Empire dress.

waiBt.

is of ivory

colored satin brocaded with flowers. The skirt is of rich, heavy material and has a long train. The waist is the distinguishing feature. The sleeves and upper part are made of fine white muslin, which in front is gathered cloBe to the throat, while folds of satin envelop the figure from the shoulders to the

Another ball dress ie of tulle, finely spangled with silver. This is draped very bouffant and held in place by clusters of large white roses. The waist is made of satin, is cut low and finished with elbow sleeves.

The handsomest walking suit is made of dark brown velvet and is heavily trimmed with sable fur. The design is quite simple, there being almoBt no drapery and along tight-fitting baeque. To accompany this suit are mufi, nat and a close-fitting jacket of sable fur.

Another street dress is a beautiful combination of dark blue cloth and deep red velvet. This is also heavily trimmed with fur.

A singularly becoming house dress is a rich sapphire blue velvet. It is made with a trained princess back of velvet, with side panels of the same, both heavily bordered with gray fur, Tbe front is formed of narrow, flat plaits of blue silk reaching from the neck to tbe hem of the dresa.

A matinee dress is of dark red surah silk. The skirt is finely plaited and the jacket fits cloBely at the back, while the front is gathered loosely at the throat, falling full over the skirt and caught to each side. The whole is trimmed with rich yellow lace and the collar and cuffs are heavily em. broidered with silver braid.

The handsomest

Btreet wrap

is the

new Parisian style—short back, dolman sleeves and long, square front. The material is black velvet brocaded with raised fignreB of cut and uncut velvet. This is trimmed with a heavy fringe of jet and gold beads and paH8ementerie of jet and gold.

An opera cloak iB made of deep red velvet brocaded with a flour-de-lis figure of dead gold color. This is also the latest shape, short back and long square front, and is trimmed with flounces of black lace, between which are rows of gold braid. The sleeves and collar are heavily braided and finished withiace.

The hats are mainly designed to match the costumes, though a number of the handsomest may be worn with any diess. These are from Baboux, and are certainly a triumph of millinery genius.

DETECTIVE EXPERIENCE.

The Slementa of Chatioe Unfavorable to the Criminal Claaaea. New Tork Tribune.

"A great deal of what passes for fine detective work is nothing more nor less than sheer luck," said Police Captein Washburn, of the Twentieth precinct, to a Tribune reporter. "I have had a good deal of experience in that line myself. I remember particular, ly the case of Kankousky, who murdered Lena Mailer in New Jersey. From a package of tobacco foand at the scene of the murder it was thought that the parties lived in my precinct, and Coroner Wiggins, who had charge of the case, asked my assistance, which, of course, was cheerfully given, although the work did not properly belong to me. I worked hard on it, but was unabld te gain any clew, and other work coming up, which unfortunately demanded my attention, I let the matter partly drop. "One day a German batcher, Philip Emden, came to the station and said that a man named Kankousky has been receiving letters addressed under the name of Kettier, and he thought he was the man who committed the murder. I at once put men to watch the house. Shortly after our men got there two men, who turned oat to be a Jersey City policeman and a reporter from a Jersey City paper arrived. They had tracked the baggage to the house, and they acted in such a suspicious manner that they were arrested. It was'solely due to the fact of that German butcher noticing Kankousky was receiving letters under a false name and having the good sense to report it to me that led to the murderer's arrest. "When* I waa a keeper in Sing Sing a prisoner named Dunn escaped. The papers said there had been bribery and all that sort of stuff. Mr. Lockwood waa warden then, and he told me that he wanted me to find the man. I came to the city rnd put in about a month of the hardest kind of work. I found plenty of traces, but never could lay my hpnda on him. At last I-gave op the chase in disgust, went back to the prison and reported for daty. When the warden saw me he asked me what I meant by coming back withont the prisoner. I told him that I couldn't do anything more. He said: "Go to New Tokr, and don't dare to come back without the prisoner." I asked him for money, and he gave me an order on Leggett & Co., the provision merchants who furnished the prison with supplies, and I came back to the city. I drew $50 and made ap my jnind if the state of New Tork could stand paying my extenses I could stand it too. I bad no dea of wornrhwmyself about Dunn. I went up to 'Tom flyer's place and had a rattling good breakfast and a bottle

of wine. Then I spent fitty cents for three cigars, and lighting one of them started ont for a stroll. I went down the Bowery as far as l'nyardy ',% street, when a man wb it recognized as an t-x-convict cai .e up tome and said: 'Hello, Wash'.urn! Have you found Dunn yet?' 'No,' I\"3», answered, 'and I don't care much whether I do or not.' 'I'm sorry for^ that,' he said, 'because he and 1 have --J been doing some work together andb i-, the blank thief won't divide, and if you'll "put ap" enough I'll give him sway.' I clinched the bargain withthe fellow, and the next night he took metoDann's place and I got hint. When I took him back to the prison the warden complimented me on my iverance. Perseverance bi 1' I said, and then I told him the whole story. He enjoyed itim--mensely, and made me tell it to th«» prison inspectors. "Another case that I call to mind was when I was a patrolman in Beakman street. My dav post waa in Maiden Lane. One morning a man £*4 came to me and said he had lost a firkin of butter could I get it for him? I told him of course I could. I thought then and still think the man mast have been a fool to think I oould find it tub of butter that had been stolen lor two hours. He gave me the marks on the tub, which I Immediately forgot. My night post was at Fulton Market, and I bad hardly gone on post when saw a man with a tub of batter on his shoulder. I saw that the marks were similar to those given me, and I stopped him. He gave, a lame explanation of how be got the butter, and I took him and th»butter to the station. It turned ont that it was the very butter that had **.*^ been stolen. The owner took the recovery as a matter of coarse, and I'll bet if be ever lost another tab and It wasn't recovered at once that he acoused the police of incapacity. I could give numerous other instances, bni this is enough to show that a great deaU of the so-called fine detective work iaf the result of luck, pure and simple. I don't deny, though, that a great many in fact, a large percentage of the work is the result of sheer downright hard work and keen detective ability." S.-i1'""

A N E I E

Hr. Langtry Willing te 9et Oat of Way of Theee Two Heart! That Bui aa One. v*. .. New York Special.

The of ten-rnmored Langtry-Gebhard marriage,it is said,!* likely to take some definite shape when the Jersey beauty returns to this country. Before another year is over Mrs. Langtry will' be Mrs. Gebhard. This is now about certain. Tha two parties moat inter-', ested have been within the last week,: .-1 or ten days sending each cable dispatches of fifty, 100, and even 200 word® at a time. Mr. Gebhard has been''/ the most active in this expensive style of epistolary communication. Private. letters from England have recently' been received in this city which in a large part explain the peculiar condition of affairs which prevents the immediate fructification of the hopes of' the fair English woman. The point of effective force is, in Bhort, Mr. Langtry. He parted from his wife seme three years ago or more, and since that time has gone his way unimpeded, and so has Bhe. Mrs. Langtry has had no communication with him whatever th* last year. Through a friend he was approached on the subjectof a divorce, as Bhe did not dare to make the proposition directly. Mr. Langtry said very coolly: "Certainly let there be a di* vorce. But 1 must be the plaintiff."... It was explained to him that this would be next to impossible to accomplish.' His wife would never consent to act in the position of defendant in such a suit, for she would have to bear all the odium. "Then let her remain., married till my death,"

11f?

Baid

Mr. Lan-r'

How He Fixed It.

Merchant Traveler.

A young gentleman in this city made a call at a certain house the other evening, and was hospitably entertained. Daring the evening he said some very foolish things, the recollection of which troabled him considerably. How to get oat of the mess gave him a great deal of concern, and he applied to a bosom friend, a young man, for advice. "I'll fix that up for you all right," said the friend. "Ton keep cool, and I'll fix it."

The next day the indiscreet youth met his friend, and asked him to report

progress. 's all right as a trivet, ole feller. I went ap to the house last night and fixed it all up. I told the folks never to mind you, for you were drunk."

And now there is a coolness between those two young men which is likely to continue.

A Reconnoiterinjr Expedition. Georfia Cracker. A young negro man looked in at the: window of the Atlanta police station: and anxiously inquired: "Captin', is you alia got Bill Davis in de callyboose yit?" "Tes do you want to see him "No, sah! I dess wanted ter kno' cood go down ter his house ternight." "Well, you can ask him!" "I don't wanter ax 'im I dess wanted ter kno' ef he wuz hyar, an' gwinter stay in?" "What do you mean?" 'i 'Well, boss I'se co'tin Bill's gal, an' an'—yer gee, i'8e de berry same nigger what he busted down er panel ob fence wid las' Chuseday night!"

He was assured that Bill was safe for the night.

NewTork Authors.

New Tork Mall and Bxprsas. JulianHawthorne is considered one of the handsomest members of tbeAuthors' club. He is tall, with quiet, dignified manners and agreeable conversation. George Parsons Lathrop is a handsome, stout man of 30, with dark eyes. Edgar Fawcet has tbe self esteem of a teacock. W. H. Bishop is a tall man rom the west, and takes life in a serious way. H. C. Bunner, editor of Pack, is a clerical looking yonng man with eye glasses and black side whiskers. Richard Watson Gilder, aa editor of the Century and a buyer of lata* amounts of manuscripts, ia held in high esteem by all the members of th* profeuion.

try, "and," he added, "I am a pretty: healthy man." "Latterly, however,

Mr. Langtry has come to believe^ that"perhaps they might better be separated. A friend of her has been woi-^, ing the matter up in her'behalf. When the friend said that he ought to eonsent to the divorce being got against him in place of against her, he said he was not averse to it. He would not oppose any action she should bring if itwere done decently. The only question in his mind was where the suit should be brought. He understood that in some American stateB there were several reasons for divorce, and perhaps it would be better to bring the action there, and he would not appear. This, it is said, is the cause of the Sudden cable correspondence be-* tween Mrs. Langtry and Mr. Gebhard. He is getting the information necessary in the matter, and is furnishing it by cable, so as to save delay. It is not unlikely that they will, after all, appeal to the law of England, where actually the divorce laws' are easier' than here. The new French law has been discussed, and the law of Holland, too, of which Mr. Langtry is a resident. But even there it would need that the wife go and remain some time if she would be the one to bring the case. Thus they are in sore perplexity, and even now that Mr. Langtry's consent has been obtained, they seem to be as far from the goal as ever.' The reason for Mr. Langtry's consent: is said to be that he, too, is desirous of' marrying, and that he is tired ef a single wretchedness that offers no compensation.

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