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ROSALIE.
A MEMORY OF THE LATIN QUARTER.
BY WILLIAM IE QUEUX,
~ , /
Author of "Whoso Findeth a Wife,”-"If Sinners Entice Thee,” “The Eye of Istar,”
( “The Great War in England in 1897,” "Devil’s Dice.” Etc.
Copyrighted, 1808, by William Le Qaenx.
A few days ago I forsook the present,and
plunged for a brief hour into the past.
I was in Paris, the city which, has great
est chartn for me, because in the old days,
before I abandoned brush and palette for
the pen, I formed one of a quartette of art
students as reckless as any in the quaint
old Quartier Latin, and lived a life of
feast one day and fast the next. Amid our
gay, careless set a man was never judged
by his coat or cravat, and our spells of
spasmodic work in shirt-sleeves were in- (
variably followed by wild outbursts of
pleasure. Those bygone days were indeed
full of happiness. Little we knew and less
> we cared for the worries of life, existing
[ as we did in Bohemia, our world apart.
Along the Rue Rivoli <1 chanced to be
passing, and having an idle hour to spare
1 became seized by a desire to revisit the
spot where the five happiest years of my
youth were spent. To satisfy this longing
1 crossed the Pont Neuf to the opposite
side of the Seine, continuing along the
quays until I reached the high, dingy-look
ing house, the grey front of which faced
the river, where in the bare, ill-furnished
sky-attic we had lived, idled, and work
ed, smoking our rank cigars purchased in
the “Boui Mich” at Jen centimes apiece,
and quenching Q|ir insatiable thirst with
an exceedingly inexpensive wine possessed
of a better color than taste.
As I glanced around I sighed to note
everywhere a change. Bohemia seems,
alas! no longer to exist there. In the fif
teen years that have passed since, in a fit
of despair because 1 had failed with a
picture I thought my masterpiece—and
which now hangs in my study as I write—
I shook the dust of Paris from my feet
and set out alone, broken by disappoint
ment and sorrow, to tramp the level dusty
roads to Germany, the Qua! Montebello has
become respectable. It is no longer; the be
loved old Quartier which was once my
home. Its old-world charm has passed
away because it has become modernized
and has assumed a sorry air of mock gen
tility. I stood and looked tiff at those four
well-remembered windows. There were
actually lace curtains there!
Yet, as 1 lingered sadly, a host of mem
ories crowded upon me. recollections of
those happy, idle, half-forgotten days
when the quips of Droz convulsed us,
when the pathos of Murger caused a lump
to rise in our throats; when time was
counted by the dates of remittances from
home, and when, in our youthful enthus
iasm, we all of us believed our works
would one day be hung In the Luxembourg
for the admiration of the world. What a
merry, cosmopolitan, open-hearted crowd
we were I The names of many of those
happy Indolent revellers with whom we
used to dine so frugally each evening at
Mother Gary's little cremerle in the Rue
Galande are now household words. No
fewer than five of my boon companions
ip those days have seats in the present
House of Commons, fully a dozen are
members of the Chamber of Deputies, one
is a distinguished A. R. A., another is
editor-in-chief of the most scurrilous An-
Klophobe newspaper Paris has yet pro
duced, another a brilliant French novel
ist, and yet another the most renowned
painter of the modern school in Italy. The
two last-mentioned lived with me In our
sky-parlor and may be known in this scrap
of autobiography as Jean Chauvel and
Paolo Besto respectively, for it perhaps
would not be fair to give their real names
now they are so well known. The fourth
of our rrterry quartette was Antoine Mar
tin, a slim, dark-eyed youth, who came
from the town where my own family had
lived for generations before political com
plications compelled my father to fly to
England, the quaint old fortified place call
ed Chateauroux, far away, in the Indre.
This little memory Is mainly of Antoine,
for he was my particular chum.
One warm summer's evening, when the
rose and orange of the afterglow had fad
ed, and we had all put down our palettes
and abandoned work, my three compan
ions went out, leaving me alone. They
had asked me to accompany them to
Mother Gary’s, b\tt feeling in no mood for
conviviality, 1 had declined. The shabby
old room, which served us as studio and
living room combined, was silent and
gloomy In the dusk, Its four easels stand
ing In a line together, the lay figure look
ing ghostly in the half-light, while the hu
man skull perched on the top of the cup
board grinned grimly down u;mn me.
I stood at the open window pondering,
gaslng dreamily across the placid river
where beyond rose against the evening
sky the twin time-worn towers of Notre
Dame, the thin gill spire of the Hotel
de Ville, and the ancient gothic tower of
St. Jacques.
1 eared not to go out, therefore I lit
the tamp, and In order to distract my
thoughts recommenced work upon my
picture., the one which I fondly dreamed
would bring me renown. The subject wtqt
a weird one. It represented the gate of
an Eastern harem, on the polished steps
•f which was lying the decapitated body
of a woman whose head, struck off by a
gigantic negro eunuch, had rolled aside.
Its title was "By order of the Sultan,”
and those who saw it in its incomplete
slate declared its conception and color
ing to be remarkable. It was their well
meant but foolish praise that led me to
ext>ect so much.
For fully two hours I had worked in
•ihmee. pipe In‘mouth, until, tired out, I
at last flung down brushes and )»a|ette
*«d casting myself upon the old frayed
couch. dropped off to sleep. It was near
audntght when a hand on my shoulder
cauaed tnc to jump up with n start, and
I saw Antoine white-faced and scared
•landing beside me.
'Quick, old fellow!” he gasped, out of
breath. "Tell me what to do. 1 want
your advice. Pre I"
And turning, he Indicated with a wave
of his hand a figure seated In the great
rnotfly old armchair. It was a young girl
with a face more twautiful than I hid
ever bofbic beheld. Her checks were pale
• • Sea th her eyes were closed her chin
had sunk* upon her breast, her clothes
*i«l h»ir were wet and rnuddv She waa
soaked to the akin and unconscious
"Vfho la alter* j KlV »ped starting for
ward, gazing amaaedly nt her.
”1 don ’ know." he panted rxhmixi.»i
i by It* efforts in carrying her up the four
long flights of rlckctty Muirs which I-d
to Owr Studio. She teemed very vounft
more than 17. Her clothes were
of •'hmi quality, and although hatles,* h r
glorea were almost new and her thin
•oled shoe- were evidently from one
th-' fashionable she?s on the Boulevard*
"A quart<r of an hour ago, while stroll
kig home alAng the qua\ 1 m*w her in
freatt of toe." Antoine mM, in answer tv
my qutek Interrogatory glance "She a>•
*» a .tart spot leaning over looking In
t-nrty tato the water, when suddenly n«2
I’Ctng my appro teh. she s wans ure« the
| «rape* and threw brrre ls into the tie ne '
I "And t|Mw ••
’ | to after hvr and got Per
out,” he said simply, as if it were a most
ordinary occurrence. “But isn’t she beau
tiful? I couldn’t give her over to the po
lice, so brought her up here. I wonder
what the fellows will say?”
I was compelled to admit thA.t her face
was almost flawless, but in alarm I asked
whether she had yet returned to con
sciousness.
“Yes, once,” he answered. “It was that
fact which makes me think she is but
little the worse for her foolish attempt. I
wonder what could have induced her to
act like that?”
“Some love affair,” I suggested, still
gazing upon her.
"Has she a lover? Do you think she
has?” he inquired quickly, an intense anx
ious look upon his face.
“My dear fellow, how should I know?”
I exclaimed, laughing. “But if we’re going
to keep her here we must put her to bed
at once and try and resuscitate her. If
not, the chill may kill her.”
“Ah, yes,” he cried, quickly, his eyes
aglow. “She shall have my room. I can
sleep on the couch—anywhere. Wait here
with her while I run down and get Mother
Brigitte to undress her and give her some
hot cognac,” and he bounded away down
the stairs to find our concierge’s wife.
As I stood, regarding the beautiful face
of the fair unknown, her eyes slowly open
ed. They were large, expressive, and of a
clear child-like blue. When she saw me
she started perceptibly, gasping in Eng
lish —
“Where is this? Where am I?”
“You are not well,” I hastened to as
sure her. “You—you’ve had an accident,
and must remain here in our studio until
you are better.” I told her my name, and
added: “Will you not tell me yours?”
“My name!” she echoed, blankly. She
raised her hand, and the sight of her wet
dress-sleeve evidently brought back to her
all the sadness and despair of the past
few hours, for she shuddered.
“You are English, so am I!” I went on.
’Shall I go to your friends and reassure
them of your safety?”
“No,” she answered, in a low, cultured
rvolce, as she gazed around our shabby
room. “You are my friend—l feel assured
you are by your face, therefore, I am
content to remain here—if I may be per
mitted. But ask me no questions. Call me
only Rosalie.”
“Rosalie,” I repeated. “Only Rosalie?”
The effort of speaking had, however,
proved 100 great, and a few seconds later
she had lapsed again into unconsciousness,
and remained so while we carried her into
Antoine’S barely-furnished little room,
where old Mother Brigitte removed her. wet
clothes, put her tenderly to bed, and gave
her cogntfc with hot water.
It was nearly 2 o’clock before Jean and
Paolo returned, hilarious after a night at
a ball somewhere In the vicinity. They
burst into the studio laughing and singing
as they were wont to do, but suddenly be
came hushed and Interested when breath
lessly we told them of our pretty and mys
terious guest sleeping in the room beyond.
Both were on tiptoe of excitement, all ea
gerness to see her, but were compelled to
wait until the following morning.
We were seated together in the studio,
our bowls of coffee before us, when the
door slowly opened and she entered. With
one accord we rose to greet her. I glanced
atfaoloand Jean, and saw they both stood
agape, amazed at her matchless beauty.
“Good morning!’ ’she laughed, bowing
gracefully.
“I have to thank you all for your kind
hospitality."
“To Antoine Martin,” I exclaimed, point
ing to him. “To our comrade Antoine, most
of all. It was he who—who found you and
brought you here.”
With frankness she held out her slim
white hand to him, thanking him. Their
eyes met. I saw how his quailed before her
calm, steady gaze, and I knew that already
he adored her.
Her clothes had been dried by Mother
Brigitte, her hair had been brushed and
dressed with taste and care, to her cheeks
the glow of health had already returned,
and as she took her seat with us and
daintily sipped her coffee, I, like the rest,
thought I had never before beheld a coun
tenance so absolutely perfect, so open, so
Indicative of goodness and purity.
The meal was a merry and prolonged
one. She was given the softest roll, the
best pat of butter, and her bowl was care
fully washed and dried by Antoine before
he placed it before her. On her part she
was gay and happy, chatting without re
straint, laughing at our jokes as if she
had known us for years, and subsequently
gave us i>ermission to smoke, accepting
one of my corporals and laughingly Join
ing us, being compelled, however, to piece
It aside after the first few whiffs.
Yet sne was entirely a mysbpy. Through
out that long summer's day she busied
herself about our studio, tidying it up,
putting things In order, and chatting gaily
all the time. One thing alone caused her
alarm; she walked round my easel where
1 was nt work, gazed upon my picture
long and earnestly, then turned away with
u shudder. It was too realistic, she de
clared; its, sight horrified her.
With one accord we called her Rosalie,
| as she had urged us to do. and ere the
day was out she had addressed each of us
by. our Christian names. Into our dingy,
shabby studio she had come to brighten
our lives and prevent us by her influence
from lapsing Into utter barbarism, and it
is no exaggeration to say that within those
few hours she captivated the heart of
each one of us. She was. Indeed, an en
chantress.
Days, weeks, months went by. At our
, invitation she remained with us. occupied
i Antoine’s room, wher<x she could retire
I and rest secure from intrusion when she
’ pleased, lived at our mutual expense, and
Lruled our strange Bohemian household
plrmly, if coquettishly. Her dress had
l>een ruined by Immersion, therefore we
compelled her to purchase two others, one
I for ordinary wear and another for Sun-
I davs and fetes, together with hat, gloves
; and various other things, all of which we
j paid for out of our own frugal combined
■ funds. Many a time did all four or us
1 deny ourselves cigars, tobacco and wli>
in order to squeeze a franc or tWo to pur
l chase various little trifles and dainties
: for the fair-faced girl whom we had chris
tened the “Queen of Queens.” She sat to
us as n model but it was Paolo who paint-
I cd the beautiful portrait, striking because
she Is represented as a “Madonna," which
st this moment hangs In the royal gallery
at Turin, as the property of King Hum
j bert, and is con-tderrel a spec.men of the
noted painter's best work. All others
I proved failures. Only Paolo could catch
the true expression of candor and purity
i in her lovely countenance.
In the days of early autumn it became
plain to us that Rosalie preferred Antoine
Martin's society, for she accompanied him
to dinner each evening to one or other - of
Ute UtUr cremerle# tn the Boul Mich', and
would afterwards go for walks along the
Boulevard or through the Tuileries Gar
dens. where the leaves were falling. Dur
ing the day, too. while at work, we did
not fall to notice the love-look in her face
I Fiirprt?** w
I he loved her. ard that she reciprocated hi*
J To him. Romo lie was nil in aU.
; ma’ned our gay. light-hearted friend and
companion, petting all of us Indlscrtmt
a til* aa affection aa if w
THE WEEKLY NEWS (TWO-TIMES-A-WEEK): MONDAY JANUARY 24, 1898.
were spoiled children. That Antoine
adored her none of us for an instant
doubted; besides we agreed that he had a
right, inasmuch as he had rescued her
from death. She was his idol. His every
thought was of her; it seemed as if her
extreme bequty had entranced him.
Month swent on. Paolo-had finished the
Madonna he had painted from Rosalie’s
model, and disposed of it advantageously
to a dealer for a sum we considered large
in those days. My own picture was com
plete, too, but it was, alas! adjudged an
absolute failure. Spring had come again.
The trees in the Tuileries Gardens were
budding, and Paris was bright and fresh
beneath a clear sky, when one morning a
quarrel occurred. Some trifling matter had
aroused Antoine’s quick jealousy, and he
announced his intention of leaving us and
placing Rosalie, who had promised to be
come his wife, in the care of his married
sister over at Charenton.
That night, Antoine being compelled to
keep a business appointment on the op
posite side of Paris, Rosalie dined with
me, and when I asked her for details of
the affair which had thrown our strange
little menage into such confusion, she
shook her head, saying:
“It is all so foolish. Antoine is so ab
surdly jealous that I really fear to speak
to either of the others. Yet you have all
been so extremely kind to me, for you
you have saved my life.”
Y ° U Wish tO end it? ” 1 in "
..rr 1 hav 'e ended it,” she answered, sighing.
fam lly lam already dead. I died
from TL D Kne7’ hen Antoine me
“You love him,” I said.
“OJ course,’* she answered with a smile.
He has been so good to me.”
That night none of us retired to bed un
til the early hours, for Jean Chauvel was
to bid us farewell next morning. His uncle
a p L, y°, ns . hfad died, leaving him possessor
or a fair income, therefore he was parting
from us, not, however, without considera
ble regret. The high words of that morn
ing had been forgotten. In wine we drank
long life to Antoine and Rosalie, and after
wards toasted each other, subsequently
retiring to rest.
How long 1 slept I know not, but it was
Antoine woo dashed into my tiny white
washed room and awakened me.
“Look!” he cried, trembling, his face
pale as death. “Read this!”
I started up and eagerly scanned the
lines of hurried writing. It was a brief
note left by Rosalie, saying that she had
left Paris with Paola, whom she loved,
and urging Antoine to forget her.
“And they have gone?” I cried, dis
mayed.
Yes, he answered, in a voice broken
by emotion. “Yes, they’ have gone—they
have gone! But I will follow.” And
snatching up his hat, he crushed the cruel
letter into his pocket and dashed out and
down the stairs.
Neither Jean nor myself touched our
coffee that morning. We discussed the af
fair dolefully, atid tried in vain to account
for Rosalie’s sudden desertion or the man
who loved her so devotedly. At eleven,
however, I saw Jean off to Lyons. He
gripped my hand before ascending into the
carriage, but at that moment of parting
no word passed between us, so full of sor
row w r ere both our hearts. Unexpectedly
our quartette had been broken up. I alone
remained.
To the silent, deserted studio I returned,
heavy-hearted, and, entering Rosalie’s
room, glanced around. In a drawer I dis
covered a note written to her by Paolo
which made it plain that he had for a
long time loved her, and that she, on her.
part, feared to cause pain to Antoine, the
man who had rescued her from death.
Alone in that old place, the scene of so
much gaiety, so many happy idle hours
and so much good-fellowship, I patiently
awaited Antoine’s return. I felt that he
must come back, yet although I waited
three whole days he neither wrote nor re
turned.
Oh the afternoon of the fourth day I
could bear the suspense no longer, there
fore having left a message with the con
cierge, I went out, wandering along the
boulevards for hours, wondering whether
my friend had discovered the fugitive pair.
Until sunset I walked on and on my return
my footsteps led me behind Notre Dame
and past the morgue.
Involuntarily I turned in, carried on by
the crowd of morbid sight-seers, and the
first object that greeted my gaze behind
the dingy glass partition was Antoine,
cold and rigid in death. The body was
lying propped up with face exposed to
wards the crowd, awaiting identification,
and at its feet was the letter Rosalie had
written, spread open so that ail could read.
His clothes were dripping with water and
covered with mud. He had drowned him
self in the Seine.
Tn an instant my eyes took in all the
tragic details, then turning I fled from the
presence of the body of the man who had
been so cruelly wronged, crossed the river,
and blindly climbed the stairs to our
studio. Disappointed that my picture
should have been a failure, heart-broken
at the loss of my dearest friend. I resolved
to leave Paris forever. In an hour I had
sold to a second-hand dealer all my few
belongings, and with the eighteen francs
he gave me in my pocket I took my hat
and stick and that night set out from
Paris alone and friendless, heedless of my
future or of where I went.
Ah! the days that followed I can never
forget. Without money and without friends
I trudged forward, picking up a living
by doing various sorts of menial work,
often thankful to sleep in barns and out
houses. and sometimes glad enough to eat
a turnip or an onion from a field. Still I
pressed forward through many hot weary
months until I at last found myself In
Italy, doing eleven hours dally In a mar
ble quarry near Carrara.
How I developed from a cosmopolitan
out-at-elbow tramp into a London jour
nalist, and subsequently into a writer of
fiction, dot-s not concern the present nar
rative. This is not an autobiography, but
merely a memory.
In my capacity as Journalist I attended
one summer's evening six years ago. a
fashionable wedding at St. Paul’s,
Knightsbridge, and judge my amazement
when, on arrival of the bride leaning on
her father's arm. I recognized our myste
rious and errant Rosalie.
Like one in a dream 1 sat watching the
ceremony until it had concluded, and all
the parties had left. Then I entered the
vestry to inspect the register. Yes, there
was no mistake about the signature. Her
Christian name was written in the same
well known angular hand ns upon that
letter exhibited at the foot of Antoine’s
lifeless l>ody In the Paris morgue. Eager
ly I read the other entries, and from them
learned that tne beautiful mysterious girl
whom he had rescued from death uos
nene other than the youngest daughter of
the Earl of Rrantwood. and that the man
to whom she bad been married half an
hour before was lx>rd Windermere, who
had just relinquished his post as British
charge d'affaires at Lisbon.
Once, only once have we met. Not many
months ago he sent me. through my pub
lishers. a brief note, in response to which
I csleid one afternoon nt her house in May
fair. When she greeted me I at once saw
how. as a leader of society, my gay little
friend ot by-gone days had become pain
fully artificial in both manner and speech.
She was no longer our happy comrade who
Joked, sang, smoked our caporals and
drank our wine like the rest of us.
“I have often read your bd»ks." she said
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at last, after we had been talking over
the teacups, “and frequently I’ve been
seized with an intense desire to meet you
again. I wanted to explain the mystery
surrounding me, and to tell you how it
was that owing to my father’s compelling
me to become engaged to a man I hated, I
tried on that night long ago to drown my
self. Besides,” and she lowered her voice
until it sounded harsh and strained, “be
sides, I wanted to ask what has become of
Antoine.”
“Antoine,” I echoed sadly, “Antoine kill
ed himself because you left him.”
“Killed himself!” she gasped, the color
fading from her cheeks. “Ah, poor fellow,
poor fellow!” she said, the tears welling
in her beautiful eyes. “I—<l never dreamed
that he loved me so well.
“And what of Paolo,?” I asked gravely.
“Paolo?” she exclaimed, puzzled in a
voice scarcely above a whisper. “Ah! of
course—l understand. You oelieve that I
left Paris with him; but I did not. He left
because of the quarrel, and 'I only said I
had accompanied him so that Antoine
should consider me worthless and forget.
I returned that day to England, and was
welcomed back by my family, who had
long ago mourned for me as dead.”
“Then you never loved Antoine?” I said.
She did not answer, but burst into a tor
rent of hot bitter tears.
Before we parted I shook her small white
be-jewelled hand, and promised her that
if ever I told the tragic story I would
never reveal her true name. And I never
shall.
The End.
TWO MORE ENGINEERS HERE.
Col. Benyunrd and Col. Ludlow Call
ed on Account of the Court-Martial
From the Morning News, Jan. 20.
The court-martial of Capt. O. M. Carter
will be resumed this morning, all the offi
cers of the court having returned from Au
gusta last night. Maj. John R. Myrick was
the only officer who returned yesterday
morning, the others having remained to
look at the United States arsenal, of
which Capt. D. M. Taylor, a member of
the court, is in charge.
The court took a day off for the purpose
of giving the judge advocate, Col. Barr,
opportunity for consulting with his next
witness, and preparing to present the tes
timony of the court. It is exoected now
that the sessions of the court will be held
along from day to day, until the
government's case has- been presented.
In connection with the case there are
several new arrivals, among them two
well-known officers of the engineer corps,
Col. W. H. H. Benyuard, in charge of the
district with headquarters at St. Augus
tine, and Col. William Ludlow, stationed
at New York. Just why these two officers
are here Is not definitely known, but it is
expected that they will give testimony in
the case.
The work at Cumberland sound, former
ly in the Savannah district, have been
transferred to the district in charge ot
Col. Benyuard, and he has had charge ot
them since some time in December. It
is believed, therefore, that he has been
called for the purpose of giving certain
testimony for the government, though of
what nature is not known.
Col. Ludlow, on the other hand, it Is
said, may appear at the request of tins
defense, though for what purpose is not
known. It may be that both of these offi
cers will be called on to give Interpreta
tions of the specifications, or testimony
with regard to materials required under
such contracts.
Mr. M. A. Connolly, formerly’ Capt. Car.
ter’s secretary, notv chief clerk to the
Nicaragua Canal Commission, is also here,
and it may be that he will be called on
by the defense. It is some time, however,
before the witnesses for the defense will
be Introduced, so it cannot be predicted
with any certainty w’hat may or may not
be done. Mr. Connolly was cabled for
at Greytown, Nicaragua, and left there
for Bluefields on Jan. 5. He left Blue
flelds on Jan. 12 and reached New Or
leans Monday night, arriving in the city
yesterday afternoon. It is expected that
Mr. George W. Brown, formerly em
ployed in the river and har
bor works here, but now’ an engineei
with the commission will also come. It is
understood he has been -summoned, and
may be here within a short time. There
have been reports in some of the papers
that Col. Peter C. Hains, a member of
the commission, who was formerly divis
ion engineer, in charge of this division,
would be called back dn account of the
court-martial. There has, however, been
nothing comirrnatory of it, and It is not
believed now’ that he will be summoned.
While the members of the court enjoyed
the day in Augusta, the lawyers on both
sides were busy at work getting ready for
to-day's proceedings. The court will meet
at 11 o'clock this morning, and proceed
with the examination of witnesses. What
witness will be put up is known only to
the judge advocate and those associated
with him.
There appears to be a misunderstanding
on the part of a great many people with
regard to the charge of embezzlement.
That charge, as it appears against Capt.
Carter, does not mean embezzlement in
the ordinary acceptation of the term
which is the appropriation of trust funds
to one's own use. It is a constructive
term as used in the charges, meaning that
money was paid out “for a purpose not
authorized.” or for a debt alleged not to
be dtfe and owing by the United States.
In other wards, it is alleged that the spec
ifications in the contract were not carried
out. If this is true, then it is held that
the contract was void, or there was no
contract, and that all money paid out for
the work was Improperly paid out. As
used In the charges, that is what consti
tutes the embezzlement feature.
In speaking of Capt. Carter. William E.
Curtis, the well-known Washington cor
respondent of the Chicago Record, says he
“has the best record of any man who ever
graduated at the United States Military
Academy, his marks for the entire course
of four years.inc uding behavior and schol
arship. reaching 1939.2 out of a possible
2.009. In other words, his conduct was
exceptional and he was almost perfect in
his studies. The only studies in which he
was not perfect were chemistry and en
gineering. He received maximum marks
in all the other branches. He has kept
the same record since he graduated and
entered active service, and for that reason
absolute confidence was reposed tn him.
He is a man of handsome appearance,
considerable wealth, great personal ac
complishments and popularity."
MANY EXPECT A MISTRIAL
CHARGE AGAINST DR. PROSSER IN
THE HAN’DS OF THE JURY.
When an Agreement Was Not Reach
ed Within n Short Time That Re
sult Was Predicted—Dr. Prosser
Makes a Careful Statement—Pro
fessional Feeling Against Him and
His Brother Charged by His Attor
neys—The Unknown Prosecutor
Referred To—Solicitor Osborne
Says the Evidence Makes Out p
Clear Case.
From the Morning News, Jan. 20.
At midnight last night it was the opin
ion of many-who remained at the court
house through the greater portion of the
trial of Dr. J. D. Prosser, on the charge of
assault with intent to murder, that the re
sult would be a mistrial. At that hour the
jury had had the.case for nearly an hour
and a half, and there seemed no likelihood
of an agreement.
The trial too£ up the entire day, as it
had done the day before. In conclusion
the defense put Dr. Prosser on the stand
to make his statement. Dr. Prosser pre
sented his statement of the case in a clear
and careful manner, and he was listened
to with much interest by those in the court
room. The crowd in the court room was,
if anything, much larger than that of the
day before, including a large number of
prominent physicians, as well as attorneys
who dropped in from time to time to see
how things were going.
Dr. Prosser told how Mrs. Toehl had
come to him with Mrs. Wiedmark, and
what she came for. His statement was, in
many respects, similar to that given by
Mrs. Wiedmark. He did not care to take
the case, he said, but when Mrs. Toehl
insisted that she wanted to get out of her
trouble, and stated that she had already
been under treatment for the same pur
pose by another physician, and that she
herself had been making similar efforts,
he examined her, and told her he would
take the case for SSO. She went away and
the next day returned with the money, and
he examined her again and treated her.
He said he found the work he had been
called upon to do had already been prac
tically accomplished, but how or by what
means he did not know.
Mrs. Toehl went home and on Sunday
morning he was called from his bed to go
and attend her. The operation was then
performed. Under the circumstances it
was an operation that was necessary to
save the life of the mother. Peritonitis
had already set in, and it was a difficult
case to handle. He called on her the fol
lowing day, but in theafternoon received
word not to come again, tha other physi
cians had been called. His explanation
of the return of the SSO upon the demand
of Henry Toehl was the same as had'been
given by his brother, to the effect that
they were new comers here, and that
rather than have any talk about the mat
ter they decided it was best to return it.
Dr. Prosser was satisfied he had some se
cret enemy who had instigated the prose
cution, but who had done so he did not
state.
Dr. Duncan was put on the stand to con
tradict Dr. Prosser’s statement with re
gard to peritonitis having set in, and said
he saw no signs of peritonitis at the time
he was called.
A recess was taken until 4 o’clock in
the afternoon, when the argument began,
neither side having any further testimony
to present. Mr. Osborne stated the law
and material points upon which he would
rely in making out his case, and the
opening argument for the defense was
made by Mr. R. R. Richards.
Mr. Richards referred briefly to the le
gal aspect of the case to show what was
necessary to constitute the charge pre
ferred, and then began to speak of cer
tain matters of which little had been said,
though the things referred to were ap
parent throughout the case. He was fol
lowed In behalf of the defense by Maj. P.
W. Meldrim, while Solicitor General
W. Osborne closed for the state.
The fact that the prosecution was a sort
of hidden or secret one was brought out
by the defense. In other words, the name
of the prosecutor did not appear anywhere
on the indictment, nor was it brought out
during the trial. The subpoenas sent out
for witnesses to appear before the grand
jury contained fictitious names, the case
mentioned being “John Doe vs. Richard
Roe.” The inference drawn was that
somebody was after Dr. Prosser with a
stick, but did not care to have his name
appear. Mr. Richards characterized it as
a low and underhand prosecution. The
statement was then made that there is
much professional feeling on the part of
other physicians against the Drs. Prosser,
and that a sort of tacit combination
against him, as it were, is in existence
among them. It was stated in this con
nection that the physicians summoned
after Dr. Prosser’s discharge had not
even called him In to ask him about the
case.
Solicitor Osborne made the point that
these facts had not appeared in the testi
mony, and that while he did not object
<o counsel discussing them, he would re
serve the right to make reply to them at
the proper time.
The attorneys for the defense "analyzed
the testimony and held that under no
view of the case was it shown that Dr.
Prosser was guilty of the crime charged;
that he acted in accordance with profes
sional duty, and that it was proper and
necessary under the circumstances that
he should have treated Mrs. Toehl.
It was nearly 8 o'clock when Solicitor
Osborne began his argument, and the
court took a short recess for supper be
fore he had finished. Mr. Osborne then
resumed his argument shortly before 10
o’clock and concluded within about half
an hour.
In reply to the points made above he
held that the indictment had been returned
by eighteen well-known and reputable citi
zens comprising the grand Jury, and that
they, upon their own motion, because of
the facts brought to their knowledge, had
made an Investigation ot the case. It was
folly, therefore, he said, to talk of an un
seen foe trying to knife Dr. Prosser in the
back. He held that no one would believe
that a reputable physician would seek to
antagonize or to interfere with Dr. Pros
ser without cause, and that the physicians
did have cause.
Mr. Osborne held that there was no
doubt of the commission of the crime under
the evidence. He claimed that the defense
that the child was dead did not hold under
the statements made by other physicians,
that there had been no consultation with
two physicians prior to the operation as
required by law, and that the return of the
Perfect Health.
Keep the system in perfect or
der by the occasional use of
Tutt s Liver Pills. They reg
ulate the bowels and produce
A Vigorous Body.
For sick headache, malaria, bil
iousness, constipation and kin
dred diseases, an absolute cure
TUTT’S Liver PILLS
To stiff-necked,
stubborn women “ Only two kinds of people
never cl } an - c thelr minds ~fools and dead
X men -'And you can’tbe either one.
Us I Chan £ e y° ur mind > then > about the best
w( 111 wa y °f was^n gj look into the matter
J care fully ; lay aside prejudice ; hold your
,W7 °P en to convincement. The best
wl / Way ° f washin £ is with Pearline.
1 1 Ease, economy, safety, health, quickness
Z®=A these are the arguments for Pearlinc
r/1 washing. Every woman who wants these
things can satisfy herself that this is so. asa
fee of SSO when demanded by Toehl was an
admission of guilt.
Judge Falligant’s charge was brief, but
to the point. He dealt with the law re
lating to the case, and said if the jury
believed the child was dead it should re
turn a verdict of not guilty. If the jury
believed that he had consulted with his
brother with regard to the case, that
should be taken into consideration as con
sultation with a physician. If, on the
other hand, the jury thought the child was
alive, and that the theory of the state
were correct, then the verdict should be
guilty.
The case is looked upon as an important
one, and is one which to the jury, no
doubt, presented many difficult phases.
When the jury was not heard from after
being out an hour, it was considered that
a mistrial was probable. The jury will
probably be heard from this morning.
OVERCOATS FOR THE TROOPS.
Col. W. W. Gordon a Member of the
Committee to Purchase Them.
From the Morning News, Jan. 20.
The quartermaster general of Georgia
has advertised for bids to furnish over
coats for the Georgia Volunteers. The
advisory board sometime ago recommend
ed the appointing of a board of officers for
the purpose of purchasing uniform over
coats for the volunteer forces. Gov. At
kinson appointed a committee for the pur
pose, consisting of Col. William W. Gor
don, First Calvary; Col. Andrew J. West,
quartermaster general, and Maj. William
J. Kendrick, Fifth Infantry. The order
was issued Dec. 23 and was as follows:
“Pursuant to a recommendation of the
advisory board, a board of officers is here
by appointed for the purpose of purchasing
a certain number of uniform overcoats for
the volunteer forces of the state. The
board Is authorized to meet at such times
and places as may be most expedient and
to conduct Its proceedings by correspond
ence between its members when necessa
ry, and will submit to this office,recommen
dations as to what organizations will first
be supplied with overcoats.
“Detail for the board: Col. William W.
Gordon, First Cavalry, Georgia Volun
teers; Col. Andrew J. West, quarter mas
ter general Georgia Volunteers; Maj. Will
iam J. Kendrick, Fifth Infantry Georgia
Volunteers.”
There has been considerable correspond
ence between the members of the commit
tee. Col. Gordon suggested that before a
meeting of the board was held, it would
be advisable to formulate some plans, and
get estimates as to the cost of the over
coats. These plans were arranged by
correspondence, and as a result the board
has had published a call for bids, which
will be received up to Feb. 15; prices to be
made on lots of 1,000, 2,000, 3,000, or more,
under the following specifications:
“A single-breasted frock coat of grey
cloth; skirt to extend about five inches be
low the knee; one row of seven large Geor
gia buttons in front; cape to extend to
elbow; five small Georgia buttons for clos
ing cape in front; linings of black cloth;
skirt of coat on each side of opening be
hind to be faced with black cloth, orna
mented with three small Georgia buttons;
two large Georgia buttons on hip in rear;
shoulder straps of black cloth, let into
shoulder seam and to button at collar seam
with one Georgia button; black cord
around each cuff, and three small Geor
gia buttons on under seam of each cyff;
two inside breast pockets and two inside
skirt pockets; no outside pockets.
The bids must be accompanied by sample
of goods, giving weight of same and name
of mills. '
After the bids are in, the board will hold
a meeting to decide what organizations will
first be supplied with overcoats, and to
whom the order will be given.
SAFE ROBBER WEST CONVICTED.
Sentenced to Two and a Half Year*
nt Hard Labor.
From the Morning News, Jan. 20.
J. C. Hummed, alias John F. West, the
telegraph operator who was arrested in
Savannah May 20, 1897, upon the charge
of robbing a safe at Ravenel, S. C., where
he was engaged as night telegraph oper
ator for the Charleston and Savannah
Railway Company, was convicted of
grand larceny yesterday in the Court of
General Sessions for Cblleton county,
South Carolina, and sentenced by Judge
Watts to serve two years and six months
at hard labor in the penitentiary.
The accused was carried to South Caro
lina upon requisition from that state about
June 1, and he has since been confined in
the county jail at Walterboro. A trial in
September last resulted in a disagreement
by the jury.
West succeeded in gaining the sympa
thy of a great many people at Walterboro,
and was defended by Messrs. Farmer, Ed
wards and Padgett of the local bar, who
volunteered their services. The state was
represented by Acting Solicitor Town
send, Maj. M. P. Howell and William B.
Stephens, Esq., of this city. The last trial
began early. Monday morning, and closed
yesterday, with a verdict of guilty, with
recommendation to mercy.
BI LLET I NDER HIS JAW.
William Gaines Shot Over n Game of
Craps.
From the Morning News, Jan. 20.
William Gaines, colored, was shot yes
terday afternoon by a negro named Ab
ram Bryan, at the house of John Miley,
in Lovers' The ball was from
a 32-caliber pistol, and entered the negro's
neck just under the right jaw. He was re
moved in the police ambulance to the
Georgia Infirmary, where his wound was
given medical attention.
Seven or eight negroes were engaged In
a crap game, and the fun warmed up un
til the cries for “seven and eleven” were
as numerous as though the participants
were at a camp meeting. The negroes al
ternated with the bones until a game was
started between Gaines and Bryan. The
two moved along without any contention
until the bones fell, and both men made a
grab for the pile, which was lying in front
of them on the table. Gaines got the
money, and from this a quarrel began,
which ended in Bryan’s pulling a gun ind
firing.
Gaines did not fall. Bryan lost no time
in getting away, however, and the police
have not yet succeeded in catching him.
The condition of the wounded negro is not
thought to be serious.
■ ■. . Ln, t
CAME BACK FROM NICARAGUA.
M. A. CONNOLLY, CHIEF CLERK OF
THE CANAL COMMISSION, HERE.
Left the Commission on Its Way to
Pay Its Respects to President Ze
laya—Eleven Engineering- Parties
Have Been Equipped and Put In
the Field—They Will Work Along
the Proposed Route of the Canal
and Report to the Commission.
What the Commission Expects to
Do.
From the Morning News, Jan. 20.
Mr. M. A. Connolly, chief clerk of the
Nicaragua Canal Commission, who has
been in that country with the commission
for the last month, is in the city, having,
it has been said, been summoned to ap
pear as a witness in the court martial
proceedings now in progress.
Mr. Connolly left the commission Jan. 5
at Greytown, just as it was about to start
for the interior on a river steamer, placed
at its disposal by President Zelaya of that
republic. The commission has since reach
ed Managua, capital of Nicaragua, where
its members paid their respects to the
President and his cabinet.
Before the commissioners left Greytown
they appointed and equipped eleven dif
ferent parties, aggregating in all about
250 engineers and laborers. All of the
engineers were carried there from the
United States on the Newport, with the
commission. No laborers being procura
ble in the vicinity of Greytown, about 150
were secured from Costa Rica, the neigh
boring republic. The commission’s party,
when it left Key West, comprised 103 men,
including engineers and assistants, and to
these other laborers were added on arrival
in Nicaragua.
These eleven parties, each under an as
sistant engineer, are now distributed
along the line of the proposed canal from
Greytown, the Atlantic terminus, to Brito,
the terminus of the canal on the Pacific
Ocean. These parties will be engaged in
the work of gauging the San Juan river
and tributaries, making soundings of Lake
Nicaragua and running lines and levels
over the whole distance of the proposed
canal, for the purpose of ascertaining the
most advantageous route and to procure
data on which to base an estimate of cost.
At the time Mr. Connolly left nothing
but preliminary work had been done, but
he is confident that by this time reports
of work along the canal route are coming
in. The reports and other data from the
engineers will be placed in the hands of
the commissioners, who will make their
report from them to the President through
the state department.
The commissioners, after paying their
respects to President Zelaya, will proceed
to Rivas on the Pacific side, where they
will establish headquarters and remain for
about one month, for the purpose of mak
ing an examination of Brito harbor, and
the country west of the lake. After the
completion of this work they' will return
to Greytown, examining the lake and the
San Juan river en route. Thence they
will take the United States gunboat New
port for Port Limon, Costa Ijica. From
-there they will go to San Jose and pay
their respects to the President and cabi
net to Costa Rica. At the conclusion of
those ceremonies the commissioners Will
go down the coast of Colon, and thence by
rail to Aspinwall, taking occasion while
there to make an examination of the Pan
ama canal. Then they will return to
Greytown and shofrtly thereafter to tho
United 'States, the commission leaving the
working parties in the field to gather data
to enable the commission to continue their
studies of the canal question.
The people of Nicaragua, Mr. Connolly
says, the looking forward hopefully to the
building of the canal. They were quite ,
enthusiastic, he states, in their reception
to the commission on its arrival, and the
Nicaraguan officials have done every
thing in their power to make the com
missioners' visit a pleasant and profitable
one. From cabled advices it is reported
that the commission was royally enter
tained by President Zelaya and cabinet at
Managua.
Mr. Connolly left Blueflelds Jan. 12 on
the steamship Hiram, a banana boat, and
arrived in New Orleans Monday night,
Jan. 17, from where he came right to Sa
vannah. The members of the commission
now in Nicaragua are Hear Admiral John
G. Walker, United States navy; Col. P.
C.Hains,United States Army Corps of En
gineers, and Prof. Louis M. Haupt, civil
engineer. They are accompanied by a
large staff of engineers and clerks.
CHARGED WITH BEING A CHEAT,
Cheap Jewelry Seller Arrested for
Swindling,
From the Morning News, Jan. 20.
John Emerson, who has been selling
jewelry at Broughton and Barnard streets
for the last two weeks, was arrested and
arraigned in Justice Nathans* court yes
terday, charged with cheating and swin
dling.
Emerson was in a buggy when arrested
by Constable Brown, and sold the jewelry,
it seems, by first making a speech on Its
merits, and then using methods which
generally catch the unwary. The crowd is
held in suspense, as it were, while ho
makes prefatory remarks about what a.
good thing some fellow will get in a shake
up which is to follow. He is a clever talk
er, and by slick methods soon interests
enough to stop, and then the sales be
gin. ,
Emerson called for volunteers, who were
to put up a piece of money, no odds how
much, and see what they would get in
return. A Frogtown negro named John
White, Jr., worked his way to the buggy
and placed a dollar with Emerson. In re
turn for it he was given a watch chain
and ring, it is said, with which he was not
pleased because of its brassy appearance.
He asked for his dollar, and, when Em
erson refused to return it, White went to
the justice’s office and obtained a war
rant against the vender for cheating and
swindling. When taken before Justice
Nathans a large number appeared to go
on Emerson's bond, but none could quak
Afy, and were, therefore, refused.
7