Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 4 June 1885 — Page 10

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PARIS MYSTERY.,

•J S—-— '*"4

By the Author of My Ducats and My Daughter.

CHAPTER Vm.

ROTES OF THK IHELIMIN'ARY INQUIRY (CONTINUED). Paul Marsal, student at law, interrogated, gave evidence fcs follows:

Q. You are the intimate friend ao:usod, Baoul Girardf A. For the last four years we have been inseparable.

Q. You frequently lived together, and were doing so at the time of this murderf A. That is so.

Q. You were accustomed to discuss your private affairs quite freely together! A. With perfect freedom.

Q. You were aware that your friend Girard had an uncle in Paris—Joseph Meissner, the money-lender!

A. I was aware that Girard had an uncle In Paris, but I did not know his name, or indeed anything abcut him, except that he was rich and miserly. We never talked of him the subject was distasteful to Girard, and I avoided it.

Q. On the night of Monday, the 24th, you were along with Girard at the Cafe de la Source?

A. Yes. Q. What was the subject of your conversation there?

A. We talked, among other matters, of our present want of means and the difficulty of raising money.

Q. Was the name of Girard's uncle mentioned in the course of that conversation? A. No.

Q. Was any allusion made to him that evening? A. Yes I suggested that perhaps this rich uncle of Girard's might lend him some money.

Q. How was that suggestion received by Girard? A. He said that it was quite useless to look for anything from that quarter.

Q. Did Girard, in your hearing, express trfy feeling of ill-will toward his uncle? A. He expressed his strong disgust at the old man's avarice.

Q. Did he give utterance to any word or words expressing personal hatred—enmity? A. It was impossible for Baoul to have a friendly feeling toward his uncle, after the treatment he had received from him.

Q. That is a negative statement. Did he express in words what you call an absence of fi iendly feeling?—did he threaten his uncle?

A. Certainly not. Q. Did ho apply to his uncle any epithet tint might be called unfriendly?

A. (Given after a pause) 1 remember that he called his uncle "cur an epithet, I thought, well chosen.

Q. It is not your opinion, but Girard's words to you that I wish to ascertain. Was his expression of dislike confined to the use of this word "cur?"—Did nothing more pass between you on the subject! (Hero tho witnes hesitated, and the question was repeated).

*'I remember he called his uncle a cur™ A. Raoul was excited I attached no significance to what he said.

Q. That is not the point you evade my question. Did Girard use the language of hatred with reference to his uncle, or did he not?

A. (Given after considerable hesitation) I believe he did say something to the effect that he bated his uncle, as he hod good reason to do.

Q. You are here to give evidence, not to comment. Attend to this question: At what hour did you leave the Cafe de la Source?

A. At a little before ten o'clock. Q. Did Girard accompany you home? A. No, he left me at the top of the Rue Dauphine, saying that he meant to pay a visit. t,

Q. At what hour was that? A. At 10 o'clock precisely the bells of St. Sulpice sounded the hour as we parted.

Q. You see this dagger have you sen it before? A. I cannot say. •••.-

Q. How! You cannot say? Did you never see this dagger in the hands of Raoul Girard?

A. I have seen in his possession a weapon which was very like it. Q. Exactly liko it?

A. Yes. Q. That dagger which you saw in Girard's possession had a sheath can you describe it?

A. It was shaped, I remember, like a closed fan. Q. Was this the 6heath? (Here the witness was shown the sheath of the weapon belonging to M. de St. Florent.)

A. It might have been it resembles it. Q. When was it that you saw the dagger in Girard's possession?

A. (After a pause.) I think about two years ago. I saw it one day lying on Raoul's table I understood that it had-been given him by his uncle to sell. I took it up to examine it, and said that it seemed valuable and would bring something.

Q. You saw it only that once? A. Yes I was not living with Girard at the time I understood that he was going to sell it.

Q. But you do not know for a fact that he did so? .A. No.

Q. On tho table in your room, No. 28 Rue Dauphino, there was found by the detective officer Py, on the night of Wednesday, the 26th, a newspaper, so folded that a paragraph relating to the crime lay uppermost, and a little heap of money it was you plaOed those thinga there?

A. Yes. Q. With what Durooset

wp*1

•w

t^S1 'A

A. TO warn my friend that ne was in dan* ger. '^1*3 Q. Then yotf suspqeted him! $

A. I did so at that time. It was an unworthy suspicion, of which I cm ashamed. I am now as certain of his innocence as of my ovrn.

GabrieUe Dumaine, glove cleaner, Rue de l'Odeon, gave evidence: That she knew the accused Raoul Girard intimately that she was his betrothed. Interrogated as to whether she had ever heard Girard speak of his uncle, declared that she had, but very rarely. Thought she had been told Moissner's name, but knew nothing about him, except that ha was rich and miserly, and had behaved very badly to her friend. Did Girard ever use the language of enmity in referring to his uncle? No ho spoke bitterly about the usage he had received, and that was all. But his language left the impression that he disliked his uncle? Oh, certainly how could it be otherwise? Meissner had treated him shamofully.

Q. Did you ever see in Girard's possession a ]nng dagger, with curious writing on the blade, and an oddly-shaped sheath?

A. Yes, I once saw Buch a dagger Baoul •visited us one day in passing, and showed it to us it had been given him, he said, by his uncle a week or two beforo, and he was then on his way to sell it if he could find a purchaser.

Q. Was that Jong ago? A. Yes more than a year perhaps two years: I cannot say precisely.

Would you recognize this weapon and its sheath if they were shown you! A. Ithtakso. is that the dagger! (Shown tho poniard used in the murder).

A It is very like it I remember the chrysanthemum flower on the blade. Q. *Is that the sheath? (Shown tho sheath from M. de St. Florent's collection).

A. I balieve it is, or one exactly like it

fviiafi was the last occasion on which vou saw the accused? A On Mom-lay night, a little after ten, he tapped at the door of our shop in the Bue d« l'Odeon, and I we.it to the door and spoke to him.

Q. How long did your conversation last! JL Only a few minutes. Q. Did he refer to his undo at all during your interviow?

A Oh

about

no we talked almost exclusively

the

comedy which Raoul had sent to

the Odeon. Q.

Did you

observe anything peculiar in

Girard's manner? A. No, I did not to ma Raoul has aiways been the same.

Q. You do not thinlf your conversation lasted more than five minutes! A.

am certain it lasted no longer than Baoul would not come in, and. it was snowing fit the time.

Abel Leuormand, journalist, statod that he had been a colleague of Girard's on the staff of Le Petit Monde, a weekly journal now extinct. Remembered calling on Girard in company with his friend Tisson, and seeing on his (Girard's) table a dagger of Oriental workmanship, in a sheath made to imitate a closed fan. Had taken up the dagger and hnnHWl it, admiring the fine temper of the steel. Tho weapon now shown him (that found beside the dead body of Meissner), if cot the one he had seen in Girard's possession, was at all events its very facsimile. Could not say exactly when he had paid this visit to Girard, but thought it must have been at least a couple of years e«o. f#

Auguste Tisson, journalist, confirmed the ^irldenca of tho last witness. 2'ierro Itoussel, servant at the house No. 38 Ru3 Dauphind, bore witness to tho fact that

Girard

did cot return home until after two

o'clock on Tuesday morning, nd that his coat slecvo was ripped op from the cuff to the shoulder,

Isa&c Cohen,' money-lender, £tated that he had known tho deceased Joseph il^tesner for over thirty years. Meissner was a of eccentric and miserfy habit* Remembered vMting him on one occasion, and passing on tho stall's tho accused, Raoul Girard, who had just loft his undo. On that occasion Meissner had complained bitterly to him (Cohen) of his nephew's conduct, saying that the young man was a scapegrace, a rascal that he had been extorting money, as usual and that ]ie Qlcissucr) would be ruined if this went on. Had beard Meissner say more than once that ho c^iected to be murdered some day, for the sake of tho treasure he kept in his room. Had advised Meissner to send the treasure to his banker's, but he had not done so could not bear it to bo out of his sight. When Meissner spoke of expecting to be murdered, it was without reference to any individual.

Tho Police Sergeant Gamier gave evidence, that, on the night of Monday, the 24th, he had been stationed in the Rue de Biche. Remembered that, while standing at the street corner, a ltum had passed him, walking very fa3t, in tho diroction of the Passage de Mazarin. The man was of middling height, and slimly made, wore a low-crowned hat, and had no greatcoat. Confronted with the accused, declared that Girard's figure resembled that of the man whom he had seen. This was after ten o'clock thought it must have been nearly half-past ton, but had an impression that the half hour had not yet struck. It might have been only a quarter past it might have been twenty minutes could not say with certainty, but thought it was near tho half hour.

Superintendent Ledru stated that he had lryde a careful examination of the court and exterior of this house, No. 13 Passage de Mazarin. Round threo sides of the court was a trellis stout wood, reaching to a distance of about twc feet from the sills of the windows on the second floor. Beneath the window of Moissner's bed closet the trellis bore marks as if someone had recently climbed up by it the paint was scraped off, and here and there a spar had been cracked or broken. There were marks also on the sill of the cabinet window and footprints on the floor, showing thai: a this way an entrance had been gained to Meissner's room.

Q. In searching Meissner's rcom on the night of tho murder, in what position did you find the key of the room door

A. The key was foimd hanging on a nail near the door. Q. In order to reach the cabinet window by means of the trellis work, would any special degree of agility be required?

A. In my opinion, a very special degree of agility would be required. I should OTHMW it a feat of gymnastics.

The janitor Mouton, recalled and rc-exam-iucd, stated that there was no duplicate key to any room in the house. It was Meissner's custom, when in his room, to hang his doorkey cm Ihs nail where it bad been found by tho polios. Had frequently seen it iMmgfngthere.

The Officer of Police Lambert stated that,,

his fastest ps.ee from the head of the Rue Dauphine to Mine. Dumaine's shop in the Rue do l'Odeon thence by tho Ruo de Conde and the Ruo do Biche to tho Passage de Mazarin. Tho time taken to cover this distance had been 13 minutes 20 seconds.

NOTE BT TUB JUDGE OF INSTRUCTION.

"1. As to. tho time when the murder was committed.—The medical testimony goes turove that the dazcer wound from which

Meicsnnr died was inflicted at *'flora on Monday night. The occupant of je room net to Meissner's, Jules Pernet, the copyist, heard a dull, heavy ncise, such osv ould be caused by the fail of tho murdered a jm this, he believes, was after 10 o'clock. ae candle taken Upstairs by Meissner at 9o'clo ck would, says the janitor Mouton, burn for about an hour and a half. Meissner's body was found lying in front of his writing tab'le on the table were sheets of paper Rcrawlex 1 over with •unfinished calculations he had b* en working at these when suddenly stabbed fi om behind his pen was found on the floor. The-candle, therefore, was still burning whon the fatal blow was struck consequently, if Moutaa'g statement be accepted, the murder was committed before 10:80. "2. As to Girard's connects with the af« fair. —Here we have an undo notoriously rich, a nephew notoriously poor. We havo ample evidence of the existence of bad feeling between this uncle and nephew. Mouton is witness of a violent scene between them

Cohen hears Meissner call «his nephew a rascal Marsal—& most reluctant witness—testifies that on the night of the murder Girard stigmatized his unde as a 'cur,' and declared that he hated him. "Christmas eve, the evening of the murder, is spent by Girard and Marsal at the Cafe dc la Source. They leave the cafe together at a little before 10 at the head of the Rue Dauphine, where they reside, Girard quits his friend, saying that he has to pay a visit 10 o'clock is striking as they separata Girard goes straight to the Rue de l'Odeon, to the residence of his betrothed, Mile. Dumaine he remains with her, speaking on indifferent subjects, for a very short time, not more five minutes. After Girard leaves Mile. Dumaine there is no direct evidence as to hh movements. "It i3 ncto a little after 10 o'dock—about ten or fifteen minutes. About this time Police Sergeant Gamier, at his post in the Ruo de Biche, is passed by a man 'of mingling height) and slimly mado,' who hastens in the direction of the Passage do Mazarin. The child Sophi9 Mouton sees the figure of a •tallish, slenderly.buliV nan glide swiftly past her window toward the court of the house it is, sh9 thinks, at some time either little before or a littlo after 10 that she sect this man pass. It is true that the evidence both of Gamier and of the child Sophie Mouton is indefinite with regard to time: but the evidence of the ono supports that of the other. The Officer of Police Lambert has walked at a swift pace over the route followed by Girard on Monday night it took him about thirteen minutes, So far as the question of time is concerned, the man who passed Gamier in the Rue do Biche and the

man

who was seen by Sophie Mouton at No. 13 Passage de Mazarin may therefore bav«

been

according to instructions, he had walked Thought that they might lead to detection may have made him lay them down again, rhere ia sufficient evidence as to the tumult sf mind in which Girard pa«ed the day sub-

one and tho same person and that person may have been Raoul Girard, the ao* cused. "Beside the dead body of Meissner an found on ivory wrist-stud bearing an Initial Gh, and a Japanese dagger with which the crime was committed. Girard, when arrested, is found to have at one wrist a button matching that found in Meissner's room the button at the other wrist is gone. The Japanese dag. gor is a rarity only one other like it has been, found in Paris, in the famous private collection of M. deSt Florent. At one time, as has been proved by several witnesses, Girard had in his possession a dagger exactly resembling that found beside the corpse of Meissner. This weapon of Girard's was inclosed in a pnmiHRi* fan-ehaped sheath, which has its counterpart in toe sheath bdonging to the fUggw of M. de St Florent, There is no proof that Girard ever parted with the dagger seen in his possession.

lIn

what way does Girard explain these circumstances, which combine so terribly to prove his fcuiM The story which he tells Is perfsctty cotmectsdL If hls«xpianauoam«—down, it will be from tu contradiction in it, but simply from its essential incredibility, "Girard declares that, swayed by a sudden impulse, he went on Monday night to demand biopsy from his uncle that he entered the room

,vr

tb« window, knowing that the jan

itor had oi^®"to admit him and, having entered, fou1"1 the corps© pf Meissner lying in a pool of bloov*. "If the story be set asiu?,' 1* Iwt one other explanation of the cnTun?™ulce^ Girard and his uncle have quarreitL,quarreled violently for a year they have nC. met. Spurred on by the want of money at the very time when the need of it was most pressing, Girard resolves on visiting his miserly relative, to demand a gift or a lout: he himself says, the repayment of a debt. He takes with him his dagger if entreaties are unavailing, he will threaten he will use force. f||' "He enters tho cabinet by the window', and Meissner's room through the cabinet. The marks on tho trellis-work on the window-sill —the fact that the door of Meissner's room is found locked) and the key hanging in its accustomed place—bear out Girard's own statement.

THE TERRE HAUTE WEEKLY A ttttttp.

"Opening the door of the 'cabinet, he wis his unde seated before the writing-table. What follows can only be conjectured. It may be that the man who meant merely to threaten was suddenly tempted to kill, and smote his victim on the back without a word being spoken. Or hot Words may have passed between uncle and nephew there may have been a refusal to lend money taunts and insults the young man, enraged and excitod, may have been roused to a burst of homicidal fury, and in this state have dealt the fatal blow. The former of these hypotheses Is borne out by the medical and police theory that the deceased was struck suddenly from behind, and so fell dead or dying from his chair. "In ascending the trellis-work Girard has rent his coatsleeve and loosened the stud at his wrist the stud drops on the floor as he raises his arm, and there remains. Tbe dagger he lets fall beside the body of his victim, when it has served itr purpose. "When the room of the murdered man is entered by the police all is found in confusion. Drawers are pulled out, cabinets opened or broken into, as if some one had rummaged through them in haste yet portable article# of great intrinsic value, such as jewels and money, have been left behind. This is tho obscure point of the case but the difficulty here tells as forcibly against any theory of th« crime as against the theory that Girard is the {guilty person. There is ono explanation that may or may not bo deemed satisfactory. Mental excitement, lepgntuated by the horror that follows crime, will «0®oiint for the most sccentric behavior. The murdww, (completely unnerved, almost out of hia senses fojr £ho time, may have gone on overturning everything and yet taking nothing or, if he took np the spoils of blood to remove them, the

Mquent to the murder. "This is my theory of the crime, based on the evidence taken at the preliminary inquiry. "(Signed) ROOUBT, htif "Judge of Instruction." [To be Continued.]

.*&*£«* iv* ON DUTY.

As the hours creep by, While douds grow heavy In the sullen sky. His limbs drag hard, he longs

«r

lOrijrlnal.i

The camp-fire dimly barns 3 Through the night and tbe snow, .f And over a frozen earth

The wild winds blow. But-the son tin el stands at his post

To rest awhile \..'l Yet over his white, cold lips itV •"!«*. 1,. Comos never a smile. Si ,v. For his heart is a soldier's heart,

And his blood runs warm

••When he thinks of his brother-men Asleep in the storm.

Then he shoulders his gun and draws A quick, deep breath What foe shall conquer him now

But the foeman Death?

A soul had sorrowed much And bad waited longIt had striven as heroes strive

Amid the throng. -'Yet firm as an oak that sways 1 In the boreal breath,

It saw men fail and die, And smiled on Death. GEORGE EDGAR MONTGOMERY NKW YORK. May 28.

\hk.

iA DEAD NOVELIST.

Some Reflections on the Death «f the i1' Author of "Dark Days." [Orlglnal.l

The death of Hugh Conway, the novelist, recently, at Monaco, is a sharp reminder of the mutability of all earthly plans and prospects. It recalls the legend of the wish angel, who hovers continually about mortals, them express their most cherished desires. He grants their wish sooner or later, but under conditions which strip it of all joy. He hurablos human beings by giving them what they long for, and thereby proving the illusiveness of all dreams of tmppinnaq,

Very little id known of Hugh' Conway, whose name in private life was Frederick John Fargus. He lived, aspired, strove, and in some measure achieved, then died just as life seemed to open before him. That much is known. The ellipsis in the short chapter can be readily filled by the imagination of any one who knows how steep and rugged is the pathway that leads even to the boundaries of success.

He was only thirty-seven years old, h*d had his share of struggle, self-denial, pri

tion and baffled hope, of course, since none who strive are strangers to these dragons that crouch by the road to eminence. Two years ago Mr. Fargus, who was an auctioneer ta Bristol, wrote "Called Back," a story now known to two or three hundred thousand readers here and abroad. It was published in Arrowsmith's Annual, and lay unnoticed on the London book stalls for weeks, and perhaps months. One day Henry Labouch&re, going on a journey, picked it up to beguile tbe tediousness of travel. He read it, was pleased with it, and afterward spoke of it in Truth as a vtry dever story. Then all London wanted to read it, and did read it. The Annual was soon exhausted, and "Called Back" was brought out in anew form. A hundred thousand copies were soon sold. It was republished in this country, and had an enormous sale. It wes dramatized and had along run in London and also in New York.

As a work of art "Called Back" had its defects, but it also had what offset the defects—an indefinable charm. It force and feeling, the germ and life of all art One felt that its author had a strong personality. It depicted no new phase of life, revealed no hidden things. It simply grouped some old, old figures of fiction in a more striking way. There was a flavor of psychologic mystery about it, and a surprise at tha end of it. The characters which figured in it, and whose fate had such a potent charm for so many thousands of readers were: A blind man who recovers his sight by the usual surgical operation, a beautiful mad woman, two very daring and successful villains, with a faithful nurse and one or two other ciphers in the shape of obscure •ervitori Yet the adventures and entangleBieqts of tbpse personages commanded the publics wwmest attention.

A few month* l#tgp "Pqrk Pays" appeared. This hod stil) greater success? than its predecessor, 2tl heroine was also a beautiful mad woman, and it bad a captivating surprise in the last chapter, Jt was steady, unmitigated tragedy-from the first to tho fast word. It was serious to &9 point of depression, never deviating into the slightest approftoh to the comic or flippant It was an intense story, dramatically told in the first person. It had not a line of philosophy. Indeed, there was not a word in it unnecessary to the simple telling of A powerful tale. Its author had acted upon tne 9I4 }dg$ that a story should amply be a story—nothing nothing lysai JJe demonstrated that it needed nothing but power and feeling tp ttjiaker it take bold on its iwlers,

These two books bj&Ugfit gold $nd honor to their author, and opeii#4 way for future achievements in the field he had long hungered to enter. Then, just as he had fairly begun to breathe the air of his dreams, be 0J94, Close attention to his work left hipj exh#ugtod, peeking recreation and rest, be went to Rpnje, a»d toe re probably contracted the roalpm w.hipfr cjjjminated in typhoid fever at Monaco, and euded his life,

We, who see only that part of life -which We, who see only that part begins and ends here, look upon a suqdeq lopping off like this with sadness. It strikes us with mournful perplexity. Yet, it bag been said, that some time we shall know that every life is complete. The symmetry and perfection of human endeavor are hidden from owy toite eyes, but they may be there. It cannot be {jjat all human endeavor is empty and unrewavd«4, Even what looks so to us may elsewhere have ii§ full fruition, its long day of joy. The soul, that mysterious sjbar of our life, which "cometh from afar." turns its back upon the prises of the world that it if&Y WW greater better countries, ...

Death, tbe a*eiw»t mystery, hides many a perfected dream beneath oeftn lid. Indeed, we may one day learn that ne is kindest to those whose eyes he closes while life is still bright to them. They who pass out of the contest beforo they are wounded are doubtless the most blessed. Yet we are so

tations. We speak ended when its desires were beginning to be realiisd- W0 *Br)?eti that ail honors are short lived, thafclame js tyeath which an adverse wind may dissipate &at fair prospects may end in fierce storms that joy may come witn the morning and sorrow intrude at night that hope, health, happiness, all

the

sweet-voiced angels who walk with us hero from time to time, have wings and fly a$ray fitfully, whispering never a word of mair return.

JfcemefBbei"M?S how difficult it is to live, we should iav a flower ujoon the grave of Hugh Conway with a smife, TOP pen dropped from his band when it baa but begun to sbovits oower yet who shall dere te say.'

:r 'V

v. /K

ne nas oj me canpT" fflan is, indeed, of few days upon the etuth, and tho3edays are filled with what seem vain imaginings, futile strivings: '•Here sits hd, shaping wings to fly.k

His heart forebodes a mysterv i|| He names the name eternity^" G*RTRtrDE GAE.:VISON. Nmw YORK. May 28.

Hair-BrnlMnifef Machinery.

[Tid-Bits.)

Everybody has heard of the new way barbers have of dressing hair—their patent rollers and patent brushes. The snbject has tho delightful sensation of a brush rolling over his head at the Tate of an ordinary steam engine. The wind, the tickling, the fairy-like sensation, are almost equal to the institution in which female fingers perform that delightful office. A few days since, however, in a certain metropolitan barber's shop, the result was different A stranger entered and took his seat, asking that his hair might be dressed: The steam-brush was applied, and for a single, feverish moment the pleasure was indescribable. But unfortunately the hair of the subject was long—so was that of the brush. It tangled. There was a yell of pain as a handful of hair came out by the rootsanother succeeded, and a yell more intense than the preceding one attested the anguish of the sufferer.

ffStop!"

he cried.

MGet

The barber was unable to manage his machine, and hastily imagined what was the matter. But by this time the sufferer had been drawn out of his seat, and hanging suspended between heaven and earth, resembling an impromptu execution.

down I" screamed the operator. "Oh—oh, I can't," mumbled out the sufferer.

The barber couldn't sympathize in such weakness, and ruthlessly applied his machine, while the hair came out by the handfuls. The man's head was literally bare. His loud cries finally procured release, and he was again seated in the chair, rubbing his bald pate with energy.

I'll sue you. I'm-ruined,n he criea "How can I help that?" the operator asked, with assumed indifference "Wretch, don't you see you've made me bald!" "Yes, sir, I see but, sir—I'm happy to say we have wigs to sell, and

It is useless to say the victim interrupted with a word not down in Webster, quitting the shop minus the purchase, and rubbing his sore head with an energy that fully attested the warmth of his feelinga Jf.'-i

The Favorite Amusements. [Washington Cor. Chicago Tribune.] Tennis, teas, and trotting are the great diversions in the intervals of private theatricals now. The first flourishes in every direction, but there are three regularly organized and enthusiastic clubs which hold weekly meetings, and as the members of each are more or less mutually involved with the others it gives them three hard games a week. One court is at the English legation of course, another in the garden of Mrs. Albert Myer's beautiful house, and the third at the Argentine legation, to which the Misses Dominguez have issued invitations for Thursday games.

They are a merry lot—these young Argentine Republicans. There are four brothers and four sisters, and there is the most delightful friendship existing between them all, and between themselves and their parents. They are all musical. The elder brothers make a spec* ialty of the mandolin, which has sprung into favor here as sudden as the rage for yellow dowers and gilt braid. They are picturesque men, and the music is quaint enough to belong to the age of troubadours and tournaments. It is made with a tinv

3awn

uill—not unlike a toothpick—which is sharply across the strings with the right hand, while the left fingers play on the frets and modulate the sounds evoked.

The music peculiar to the instrument is nearly all national, and has the distinctive characteristics of the Spanish schoolsomber sweetness and passion. Its movement is quick, with the tune sharply accented, and is as melancholy, even in its wildest gayety, as life itself. The shape of the mandolin is odd, and as it is not at all an uuoroamental bit of bric-a-brac, one •s to be seen hanging in every super-ses-thetic parlor in the city. I *''Si

?m Cattle Thieves In Uruguay. [New York Letter.] "Cattle thieves in the land where I raise stock," said a Montevideo cattle-breeder visiting New York, "have discovered a pew and ingenious mode of distinguishing their booty. Lost autumn I lost severtu head, ana half a dozfen times I and my men, with the mounted policemen, came up with the thieves, and I saw with them cattle that I knew at once were mine. My brand was on them (J. M.) and sometimes there were scars on the bodies that I knew quite well. The animals were exactly like mine in every respect but one. The horns branched differently. If those on my cows had pointed up these dropped toward the ground, and often one pointed fprwftrtf aga the othpr backward, or one toward the gky and .the other toward the earth. "J, M-, tbe drover said, were his own or h'S employer's initials. The cattle were certainly mine, but I could qot swear to them, and I was obliged to see them taken away." "The thieves had kept the horns wrapped in poultices of boiling feot meal pptif tbpy WPrP spft enough \q he Vw|s^4 ap4 thu» dpstjjqypd thg pow's identity, The horns soo» hardened when the handages were removed, "I have been told that the trick was invented by Russian cattle thieves. I wish they had kept it at home.

Better to Starve Than Be Left [Hartford Postl It is a question whether the flour barrel pr the spring bonnet has "the call" in Jjopsehold discussions. Many old and experiencecl observers stake their money op the "s. a., while to a cqsi^al onlooker tfyp f. h„ WPHla seem to be of greater injpoyt$ncp. It was jqst after the sermon jwd t|i§y were wending thpir way home in a soothed and peaceful frame of mind "Oh, Job, did you see that delightful new bonnet of Mrs. Arbutus'? I thing I want something like that "Like that?" exclaimed Mr. Shuttle. "That! Why, it's the worst phantasy in roses I ever saw. "Now, Job, you know better. That bonnet is a complete symphony in harfnopious tones, an effect that is perfectly oewl^chipg, $nd I'll have one like it if I have to scrape the slivers off the inside of the flour barrel for the next loaf of bread.

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New York Graphic: The stomach of the ostrich is? located in its back. When an ostrich has the stomach ache it wears its musfcrd piaster in the same $acea camel does its hump, ...

THE MATTRI§3 ^TRAOE.

Feather lleds—Valuable Hair Mattresses VT«kH anil Shavings—"Shoddy." IChicapo Tribnue.]

During the moving and house cleaning period the question of renovating and revamping mattresses and ticks is an interesting one to housewives, who too frequently discover that what was purchased a year^ ago as a valuable hair mattress is. only a combination of wool and shavings. The feather bed is still to be found in stock, but the trade is confined entirely to the country. Except for pillows and bolsters, feathers are rarelv called for in the city trade. The best bed oileied is a fortypound hair mattress. There are, however, two kinds of hair which are rarely worked up separately, because one is too expensive for the average purchaser, and the other has too little body.

The better hair is made of the tail and mane of the South Ainericau horses which are raised on the plaius of the Orinoco and Kio de la Plata river* This long hair is cut twice a year and shipped in kuots to hair dealers in Baltimore, New York, and Philadelphia, where it is cleaned and curled by boiling. It is then run through a machine which picks out the hairs and weaves them into a rope an inch in diameter. Thete ropes are sent to the manufacturer, who has them untwisted by children. 'Black hair is the best filling for beds known. The white is made by bleaching black or sorrel hair, and, while it is worth more per pound, is not as good as the black, the bleaching processes being so severe as to rob the hair of its strength aud elasticity. A genuine horse hair mattress costs between $80 and $40, according to the quality of the ticking used. Cheaper mattresses are made from the hair of cows and pigs. The hair is treated in the same manner, but makes a heavy bed and one less durable than curled hair. "Shoddv" is the trade-mark for a mattress made of woolen ravelinga Any kind of wool can be used for this purpose, but the principal material is obtained from old Brussels carpet, which is unraveled by steam heat, thoroughly cleansed, and afterwards picked like Jint A "shoddy" mattress can be bought for $5, and will last forever, but it is not readily ventilated, is hard to move, and can not be made over. Such beds are used in hotels in roOms that are not much occupied. A better mattress, so far as health goes, is the husk mattress, with cotton on one side. The cotton top makes the mattress soft, but it is not reversible.

A great deal of cow's hair is used by people who want a bed that will last. The hair is obtained in Chicago in great quantities, and after being washed is sent to all parts of the countr/. These IKMIS are perfectly clean, but the hair is clinging, and it takes the strength of an athlete to turn the mattress over for ventilation. Goat. deer, and pig hair is used occasionally for bedding, though more generally is appropriate by harueasmakera.

Flptaae* of Bminsw, IScientlflj AmericiD.]

A well Informed merchant of Boston recently said to a representative of.a Boston newspaper that he had been looking back over his a -counts, and was surprised to find that since the close of the war there had been steady increase in the ordinaryexpenses of carrying on business. That this increase of business expenses extends beyond the merchant to the manufacturer and most other kinds of business is a fact patent to most employers. Mere oH1ce work costs a great deal more now than it it did in 1865 more clerks are needed, and. on the whole, each of these receive higher pay. Assistance is required in the receiving and delivering departments to an extent and of a character that would uot have been dreamed of two daendes ago. Then there area variety of incidental expenses that now enter into the computation. There are telephone charges, printing, the expense of solicitors, tlio whole making up an amount suflici 'titly large to eat up all that would have been considered fair profits a quarter of a century ago.

It is probable that the experience in different trades varies, and yet we fancy that in most lines of business statemonts somewhat similar to the above might be mado. The tendency, all the time going on, to lessen the hours of service, both in ollices and workshops, of Itself makes the cost of business proportionately higher. Competition is sharper than it was ten or twenty years ago, and prices are so much reduced iu most commodities which enter into the necessities of a household, that mechanics', clerks, and others are enabled to live much better now than it was possible for them to do ten or twenty years ago. when their wages were less and the cost of living was greater,

Last Hour* of Yankee Sullivan. [Washington Iiatohet] I was vory much pleased to meet last week with Judge Mo iowan, one of the Argonauts who in 1849 discovered the golden tieeoe, which has—to coin a term— royalized alifornia. In the course of our conversation the judge told me the conciete historv of the famous prize tighter, \unkeo Sullivan. fcullivan. whose real name was Ambrose Murrny, was arrested ami imprisoned- He feared that the vigilantes WouM put him tu death, though, as./ udge MpGowan tells me, his apprehensions wero unfounded- Thy purpose of that body was to ship him back to Australia on tbe first, clipper ship that sailed to Melbourne, it having been definitely understood that Sullivan, or Murray, was an escaped convict. The poor devil, however, was so affrighted that he took no stock in the hope of escape from iho harsh business of Judge Lynch, He called eagerly from his prison windows i'or a priest, feeling that death was settling closp arqi^pd h»n. but was answered by jeefs from the mob without Finally, in sheer desperation, he opened the veins of his left arm with a c*seknife and bled himself to death,

Yankee Sullivan was one of the finest prize lighters in the records.

Inscriptions That Did Not

[Rehoboth Sunday Herald.]

A minister well-known by name throu»li« out the land, who had one of the test equipped houses of worship, was showing a friend not long sinco through its various room? when tbev came to the kitchen, which pas Oogn^tea by a speaking tube with ti pastor's study. On the wall was points jc Lu-ge letters 'VThe Lord wiy provide," whils 41 smaller letters on the senate wall n$*r tin mouthpieoe ot the tube was the) direction, jtlQWnwJ wait for-an answer." Tho vis. i$or nat^jral^y askad \t the two inscription* few) ftny particular connection with ono anfitter} and it is hardly neoessary to say that a change was soon made in the JaftorLn-r. ,iiKs T--

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