THE DAWSON WEEKLY JOURNAL
By E. & J- E. CHRISTIAN
die gatosaa SQlcfkla I.flnrnal,
Published Every Friday.
F & J.~E~ CHRISTIAN,
EDITORS AND PUBLISHERS.
fEIMIS— Strictly in Advance.
Three months 00
gi! months $ 2 00
Rates of •Advertising :
One dollar per square of ten lines for the first
insertion, and Seventy-five Cents per square for
etch subsequent insertion, not exceeding three.
One square three months % 6 00
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Ooe square one year 20 00
T „o squares three months 10 00
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Fourth of a column three moths 30 00
Fourth of a column six months 60 00
Half column three moths 45 00
Half column six months TO 00
One column three months TO 00
One column sir months 100 00
Job If *ork of every description executed
with neatness and dispatch, at moderate rates.
mac oat bi s/.vkss chinos.
LITTLE, SMITH & CD.,
DEALERS IN Saddle Bridles, Har
ness—Harness and Saddlt rv Ware, Leather
of ill l n Is, Shoe Fiudine, Carriage T immings, &c.
fy HARNESS MA DE to order. 2 3m*
CJO. B- TURPIN. J. It. IIEr.TZ
TURPIN & HERTZ,
Wholesale and retail dealers in
CLO THI N Gr
And Gents' Furnishing Goods—Triangular Block,
Cherry Street, . Tleteon , Get. Clo'hing made
to order on short notice. 2 lm*
PATRICK & HAVENS,
Wholesale and Retail
And General X-ws Dealers—Triaugular Block,
Cherry Street, .tSaeon, Get. 2 ts
CHRIS I). IIMU.AY. H. A. KENRICK.
FINDLAY & KENUICK,
REAL ESTATE AGENTS,
Ti iiiugiiliir Hloek,
2 3m MACON, GA.
JONES &. BURNETT,
Cherry Street, Aleteon, Ga.
At the oid stand of R. B. Clayton & Cos.
J.E.JOXKS. J. C. C. BURNETT,
tints It. ANDERSON, LOTUS K. ANDERSON.
J. 11. ANDERSON & SON,
Corner of Third and Fopulnr Streets.
Macon, : : :
FE lire gtfll contimieing the Wai’dioiiso
*» and donisnissioift Business and will
receive and aell Cotton and all Produce eutrusted
,n our care. Prompt returns of al! sales will be
m*de. We arc also prepared to fill orders for
solicit consignments of Tobacco, Corn,
R-icon, Lurti, Sugar, CoftV e, Iron, Steel,
Itrna, Sheetings, Osnaburga and Produce pener
-1>• 2 3m*
H. SHAW &. CO.,
St raw Goods, Ac.,
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL
VEinve constantly on hand the largest, ttock
u ot hats and caps in the city of Macon.
Inducements Offereel to Merchants
til planters. We have hats which we are off. ring
1 prices ranging from §l2 50 to §l2O per dozen.
Cherry Street, iTIAtiOSI, tiilOStfs I A, —
Hite store of T. W. Freeman. 2 3m*
HOCERY AND PROVISION
'• W. FREEMAN,
Cherry Street, . llcteon, Get.,
1 CONSTANT Supply'of everTthing n his line,
j/Jawing RUTTER, CHEESE, FLOUR,
i HUE, CANDLES, Powder and Shot,
P U( UR, COFFER, BACON,
Wh y Varietr of CANDIES and Choice Con-
■ h ' r ! P ®’ st ers, Lobsters, Sardines &c., to*
w ith a splendid assortment of
■ones and liquors,
B i >oot?i and Shoes,
(.ips .i.ru fi its.
"; r T.Merchant, can have their hills filled in
H /. Icu ‘*r, at the most reasonable rates.
■* him a call. 2 Im*
I r °f*i.i:r .H.i.rso.v,
■ A UCTION AND
m eraii ants,
II kird Street, 4th door from Post Office)
■ Macon, Gra.,
0,a pt'returns' 11 ° Ur Brt f u ‘ c '' Ba * e9 an<^
■ jo,rn\?^ ? - EtiUor! °f the “Dawson \Yeok-
I 2 6m
DAWSON, TEHREUU CO., GA., FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 2D, 1906.
w. n. singi.kton, w. c. singleton, t. j. hunt
SINGLETON, HUNT & CO.,
(orrOSITE LANIER nOCSE.)
.'i.ICG.r, : : ; GF.OHG IA.
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
BOOTS, SHOES, TRUNKS,
HAT!!, UMBRELLAS, ETC.
When visiting Macon will God many NOVEL
and beautiful articles for dress aud toilet at the
No. 11 Cotton Avenue a few doors above Mix
and_Kirtlauds. No 2 3m
BOOTS, SHOES, HATS, AND
MIX & KIRTLAND,
.Vo. 3, Cotton ,ivenue, Alaeon, Ga. t
“Sign ofilie Big Boot.”
\ YT’HOLF.SALE and Retail Dealers—have on
T V hand, and are constantly receiving addi
tions to, one of the finest assortments ot Boot
and shoes, for ladies’ gentlemens’ and childrens
wear, in the South. They have nothing but the
very best class of work, all of which is warranted
to give satisfaction. They are determined to sell
as low as any one in the matket. Having had
thirtv-five years experience they think they under
stand the business. Superior inducements olfered
to country merchants. If you want good work,
give them a call. 2 3m*
G . !B E R 3ST JJ ,
MANCEACTCRER & DEAELER IS
Cotton .irrmte, Alaeon, Georgia.
A good lot of leather of every description on
hand. All kinds of repairing done in best style
and with dispatch. No 2-3rn
LG.MGLEY & WALSH, -
Cherrs/ Street, At aeon, Ga.
At the Store formerly occupied by E. Bond A Cos.
Wetmore & Kirkland....... .New York.*
Hodgkise, Scott & Cos “
E. F. Wood & Cos, Boston
Fiske, A Anderson, “
C. F. Chamberlain, Memphis, Tenn.
S. C. Wood, & Cos., Nashville, «
Hannon. Offut & Cos New Orleans.
Crane, Johnson A Gray bill,. Savannah, <ia.,
Blair, Smith & Cos., Augusta, (la.
L. G Bowers, Columbus, “
J. R. Wallace, ....Atlanta, “
Particular attention given to the purchase,
Sale and Shipment of Cotton, Cotton Yarns,
Osnabt.rgs, Sheetings, &<■., kc.,
JOHN FI LONG LBV. Late firm of E. Bond. ACn.
W.M. WALSH, Late firm of Horne A Walsh
Feb. 10th, ISOB. Bm.
M. L. ALEXANDER,
2'ormer' v °f tishvillc, !Tenn. } with
JAMES M. CLARK I CO,
(SrCCKSSORS TO ACTON, CI.Ar.K A C 0.,)
IMPORTERS AND JOBBERS OP
103 SNiarl Street,
Between Pine and liace,
The Commercial facilitios of Cincinnati are
second to none in the Uuuited States. 26m
F.. w. JENKINS. J.T’’79rSKINS.
Grocers, Sieeievlng, Forwarding
Broad Street, - - EUFAULA, ALA.,
KEEP constantly on hand a general assortment
of Groceries, consisting of
Cheese, Irish Potatoes, Onions, Candles, Soap,
Starch, Soda, Tobacco,
I.HI COBS OF -ICC G TJTDS,
In fact everything in the grocery line. Prompt
attention to the purchase and shipment of all or
ders, Orders strictly obeyed in the sale of our
friends’ produce. 2 4t
SOLOMON & PEAR RE*
Sintpton <L Johnson's Old Stand,
R, A. SOLOMON, E, E. PEARRE,
Late ot Columbia, Ala. Late ot Woodville, Ala.
Strict attention paid to all orders for the pur
chase or sale of produce of all Con
signments respectfully solicited.
Refers to Messrs. Wm. A. McKenzie A Cos., Ap
alachicola, Fla.; Epoing, Hanserd A Cos., Colum
bus, Ga. ; S. A J. Seh'ffer, New York ; Simpson
& Johnson, Eufauls, Ala.
Well might weep the sentimental Persian,
Looking o’er his host of armed men,
When on Greece he made his wild incursion,
Whence so few might e’er return again.
Weil might he weep o’er those countless millions,
Dreaming of the future and the past,
As he gazed amid the gold pavilions
Round his throne upon that crowd so Tist.
Musing, with subdued and solemn feelings,
On the awful thoughts that filled his soul—
One of those most terrible revealings
That will sometimes o’er the spirit roll.
Thoughts, that of that multitude before him
Panting high for fame—athirst to strive—
Ere old Time had sped a century o'er him,
Not, perhaps, would one be left alive.
That those heart, now bounding in the glory
Os existence, would be hushed and cold;
Not their very names preserved in story,
Nor upon fame's chronicle enrolled.
All to earth, their proper home, departed ;
Light hear.t, strong hand, all gone to kiodred clay;
And, in their vacant room, anew race started
Careless of the millions past away.
W. U might weep he—well might we, in weeping,
Make our offering at. sorrow’s call
W hen we ponder how our days are creeping,
Like the shadow on the wail.
W hen we think how goon thA sunbeam, setting,
Will depart, and leave it all in shade—
And our very friends will be forgetting
That the daylight o’er it ever played.
Life, upon a swallow’s wing is living,
O'er the earth it, sparkles and is gone ;
All our days are but a lengthened dying—
One dark hour before the eternal dawn.
Riches, glory, honor, fame, ambition—
All as swif.ly fly, as 3oon are fled ;
Or, if gathered, mend they our condition?
W’hat delight can these afford the dead ?
Chase no more the phantom of the dreaming
Weary is the hunt, the capture vain ;
When thy arms embrace the golden seemiog,
It will vanish from thy grasp again.
Trouble not thy heart with anxious carings—
Thou art but, a shadow—so are titer ;
Let the thingß of Heaven deserve thy darings,
» They alone will never pass away.
Til Id DEAD-ALIVE.
When Maria Graham married Walter
Forsythe, everybody said there was little
love, save love of lucre, in the match.
Miss Graham was poor and ambitions.
Iler father hud brought her up expensive
ly, and died a bankrupt. She had need of
luxury, but was forced to live as a depend
ent in the house of a distant relative.—
Walter Forsythe was rich and solita
ry. Not or,e of his blood lived to c’aim
tithe of his heart or purse, lie had re
ceived a military education ; but inheriting
a large fortune from the last of his house,
and longing to travel through other lands,
he left the army—the less reluctantly that
the days were days of peace and id’eness
for them of the sword—and went abroad
for seven years.
When he returned he met Miss Graham,
and, tifter a brief courtship, wedded her
Then once more ho sailed fur foreign
sho es, this time with his proud and beau
What manner of life these two led in
the brilliant route of the Old World it
skills n t knowing. But Forsythe, in the
second year of his absence, expressed his
intention of becoming a subject of France,
an 1, withdrawing bis fortune’from bis na
tive land, invested it in that of his adop
tion. Another year, and Walter Forsythe
was Monsieur F. rsythe de CJaireau be ng
the title of an estate he had purchased in
the South of France. Three more years
and the “dogs of war” were again 1< t loose
on olden battlefields, and Christian and
Turk fought side by side, for the first time,
on Crimean plains. Forsythe remotnbcre i
bis vocation, and became le Captain de
Claireuc, aide de-cam 4*. volantaire
Three “stricken field” he saw, and on
each he left a trail of blood.
Then came Inkermnnn, and Madame
de Claireu was a widow. A widow, with
out even the sorrowful comfort of seeing l
her hero husband in death, or weeping!
over bis laurelled grave. Captain For
sythe was torn to pieces by a shell—so j
said the bulletin—with many others, and
their indistinguishable remains oommi te ii
tothe common fosse, with hasty ceremonial.
So, Maria Forsythe was a widow, still j
young, beautiful, childless and sole mistress
of a noble fortune.
Fifren months have soft-ned the sharp
memories of loss and blunted the ko nness
of grief in many hearts, perhaps, but sure
ly in that of Captain Forsythe’s young
widow. For there is cert inly a feast of
some sort in the chateu of Claireu. . The
windows are all aiight, there is hurrying 1
to and fro of liveried irienktls, and the!
sound of music and laughter echoes har
moniously along lie stalely corridors.
The brilliant drawing-rooms are full ofj
gaily attired guests who dance, or chatter, 1
or play at cards, as the humor takes them.!
while among them moves a tall, and rk eyed |
ebon-liaired lady, with a peculiar firmness
of lip and haughty arch of eyebrow, who:
smiles graciously to the pretty things said !
here and there, showing her small white
teeth and the dimple in her cheek as she
does so. This lady, who must 1 e the hos-!
tess by her manner, leans upon the arm ol
a tall, thin man, elaborately dressed, and
decorated with several orders. He is not.
verv young, for his hair is ting and with
gray; but his long moustache and impe
rial tire black and glossy :,s the boots on
his aristocratic feet. IBs face, when scann
closely, has a tired air, and the lines round
the eye and base of the slightly-hooked I
nose speak of long and not ep ciully moral
vigils—in short, he wears the marks of
long continued dissipations arrived at the |
point of tdascAom.
From his manner towards the lady on
his own arm, and that of the guests to
wards them both, one feels sure that this
brilliant pair must be bride and groom.
And yet the cavalier is tn less than the
Marquis of Chaste], while the fair lady he
escorts is, or was, when wo knew her last,
simply M a lame Forsythe, widow of Cap
tain Forsythe de Claireau.
It is true however! The noble marquis
lias exchanged his ti le against the golden
charms of the fair widow. lie is a ruined
spendthrift and incur, ui h tit m rals or
principles to speak of; he is forty-nine
years of age; ho is discarded by every
respectable member of bis family, cmi
scarcely rn ro than tolerated in the noble
society hi - rank entitles him to frequent !
But whnt of nil this?
Maria Graham (w idow Forsythe) is now
Madame the Marchioness de Chaste!! She
has bought her title dearly, perhaps ; but,
as yet, she does not regret the price. As
the hour waxes bite, and the voices of the
lackeys begin to be beard announcing the
carriages of their masters or mistresses, a
footman walks slowly, and as if with diffi
culty up the long avenue of poplars that
leads from the hi.h road to the portals of
A- he Heps out of the shadow into a
strip of mnn iglit, you see—if you were
thereto see—that he has but one leg and
walks wi h a crutch. At tin next moonlit
space, you perceive that bis face is terribly
scarred and discolored, and during his
traverse of a still longer ribbon of light,
you remark that his garb is poor and trav
He reaches the open ground in front of
the mansion, quite unregarded hy the
pressing, jabbering crowd of servants, and
sits down upon a stone terrace st- p, whence
for some time he gazed with a vague won
der at the still brightly lit house, and the
stream of laughing, chattering people issu
At length he rouses himself, and, stop
pinga youthful groom:
“My friends,” says lie, “ what is the
name of this fair mansion
“Claireau !” replies the boy, shortly.
“And its masters ? ’ continues the oriole,
in a dreamy voice.
“The Marquis de Chnstel—or rather (he
marchioness, since she is the rod master,”
says the youth, and is anxious to depart.
“Stay a moment.” urges the cripple,
drawing a com from his pocket and plac
ing it in the boy’s ready hand. “I once
knew the master of ties domain; hut he
was no marquis; lie was simply Moris'cr
F' rsythe. lias he got a title, my little
“He was killed in the Crimea, I have
heard, for I am now here,’’ replied the boy.
“But madatne his widow it is who has
wedded 1 ur marquis, and so is now Mar
chioness of Chnstel, my old one. Good
, ■ iglit, I must be gun !” and snatching lis
skirt from the st angers grasp, he sprang
off t) (iis p st at the Lors- s heads.
For a moment tho mutilated traveller
sat as though stunned, with h : s head bow
ed he'ween bis hands; then rising h • mad.'
a stride or two towards the steps as though
fie wou'd enter the mansion.
“Out of die way, imb cile!” cried tho
driver of a crested equipage, as re whirled
past w ithin an r cli of the halting footman.
The cripple fell back, then, with a long,
stnm sigh tint was almost a groan.
“No ! no ! not hero ! not now !” ho mut
tered, and turning away, went si ,w ly down
the avenue again, and so out upon the
highroad,and was lost, for the time, in the
M. Duroc, the lawyer of Marseilles (fur
bo was, by general consent, the lawyer of
that flourishing town), sat in bis office one
morning, when his clerk announced a visi
“What sort of a person, Charles?”
“An old soldier nnd beggar, I should
say,” replied the clerk.
“Well show him if) nevertheless,” said
the advocate, kindly.
And in moment a man poorly dressed,
with one leg, and a scarred face, hobbled
into the room.
“You are M. Duroc?” asked he.
.. “I am. Fray be seated. And you?
May I ask the ”
“My name is Forsythe. "Walter For
sythe of Claitieau, formerly captain and
aide-de-camp of General X '
“Hold! hold” cried the lawyer. “I
knew Captain Forsythe. 1 "as his busi
ness agent, even us 1 atnof his widow. He
was killed in the Crimea, aud his widow is
married again to ”
“To the Marquis def hostel. I know
it!” interrupted the cripple. “But Cap
tain Forsythe was not killed, since I am
The lawyer shook his bend incredu’ous
ly ; but the other went on rapidly.
“It is true that I was blown up by a
shell, or rather a mine of shells, and was
supposed to bo dead, aye, was even bu
if to be thrown into a shallow trench
and covered with half tin inch of soil can be
called burial. But I revived, and man
aged to get my head above ground, was
found by some prowlers who were looking
for booty from the dead. They were loth
to be burdened with me ; but there was a
woman among them, who insisted that I
should be saved. Ho they put mo in a lit
tle covered cart, and carried me back among
the hills, to their den, where the woman
and daughter nursed me, and got a sort of
peasant surgeon to dr. ss my wounds,
and for five months I lay there ere
l could rise. And when finally rny wounds,
were healed, triy memory was gone; l was
like an infant; knew nothing, could com
municate nothing. 80 they carried me to
a hrgrital in a village, and there I was
treated, for charity, as a lunatic, for six
months more. At last I recovered rny
reason, and obtained my See.
I have it here. But I had no money, no
frieuds who could recognize me, mutilated
and altered as l was, no means other than
my own word of proving my identity, and
even my old voice was gone. So I travel
ed as lest I could; back hero—to find rny
wife wedded to another, my friends scat
tered, or incredulous even as you are—and
myself a beggar without a home or a name
unless you will aid mo to recover them.”
“This is the most extraordinary—the—
excuse’mo—the ipost incredible story I
ever beard 1” exclaimed M. Duroc. “But
“But if you are really M. Forsythe, you
will answer a few questions that I shall
put to you, and then we shall see.
“l’rocoed, sir! I feel 1 shall convince you
at least said the captain (as wo shall
henceforth call him).
Tho lawyer then interrogated him up n
points of business which could only have ,
been known to himself nnd Captain For
sythe, bis client, to all of which the cap
tain’s replies were clear and satisfactory.
At length :
“It must be so—it is so! You are un
doubtedly M. Forsythe do Claireu; but
hmv to prove it legally is, alas ! anotliet
question,” c.iied the lawyer.
“W hat!” exclaimed the cuptain, “is any
further proof necessary ? Can you not
swear ? Can I—”
“And your wife ?” said Duroc.
Tho captain groaned.
‘ True, true,” muttered he. “I know
hbr. She will deny tne ; she will pm jure
herself a hundred times to hold to her ti
tle and my fortune. Alas! what is it to Le
“Wo si all see replied the lawyer, cheer
fully “Come to mo the day after to mor
row. And, meantime, suffer Trie to be your
banker; it is but an advance you know—
you can repay me with usury when 1 hand
ton hack your fortune,” and he placed a
a rouleau of gold in the captain’s hesita
“Well, said he, at last, “I will take it,
then, as a loan. And now, good month g
Tho day after to-morrow I will be here
nnd will live, till then, in what hope 1
They shook hands and parted.
As the mutilated soldier went slowly
forth into the street, ho nearly run against
n lady, who was trij mg from her coi pc to
the lawyers's otlieo lie had just quitted.
‘T’ardon me, madatne,” said he, taking
off his hat. Then, looking upon the fare
of her he addressed, he started back, and
wou'd have fallen had ho not caught the
arm of the ast nished lady.
“Whst is the matter ? Let mo go, sb !
Is the man drunk ?” exclaimed she, with
“Mari, do you not know me?” murmur
ed the captain, in Eng ish, still holding his
wife—for it was she—by the arm
“How date you—who are you ? George,
George 1 (to the lackey) deliver me from
this ruffian!” cried the soi distant mar
“I am your husband, Walter Forsj the,”
said the captain, in a low voice, at the
same time relinquishing his he ld. “Look,
liere is the poof !”
But without waiting for him to produce
something he was feeling for in his breast
Maria swept scornfully and swiftly past
him saying only: “You are mad, poor
man!’' and the lawyer’s d.or closed upon
For an instant Forsythe seemed sliont
to follow her, but changed bis mind in the
next, and proceeded < n his way with bow
e 1 bead aiiJ uncert.in step.
cn.tr TER IV.
“She " ill be here in a few moments,”
said M. Duroc; “and I advise you to com
“But my name, my identity, my social
position ! I cannot, continue an outcast—a
dead man!” exclaimed the captain.
“Buhl You will return to your native
land, among your own family and fi lends,
who will receive you at your word, since
you will come as a giver, and not as an
among them. There, with half your for
tune, which madame is prepared to restore
to you, you will he happy, and—”
“No, no !” said Forsythe, firmly, I must
have full justice or nothing. 1 cure not for
the fortune without the right of name. 1
must be acknowledged to be myself, ful'y,
legally, and then, perhaps—”
“Madatne may cause you to alter your
resolve,” said the lawyer. ‘By my faith,
she is a dangerous woman—a siren ! ’
“ Her power of charming mo is goac,”
muttered Forsythe. “I may break, but I
will not bead.”
“Will, wo shall see. If, after your in
terview, you are still resolved to ri-k the
law, I will do rny best for y< u. Duf, 1
warn you, such a suit will bo long, uncer
“Justice or nothing !” repeated the cap
A light, step on the stair, tho door opened,
'and and Madatne Forsyths, de Claireau, de
Chas'e', appeared, dressed exquisitely in
semi-mourning, with a ravishing i xpressiori
of mingled grief aud joy upon her mobile
“I leave you together,” raid M. Duroc,
What the nature of-that s'rangc inter
view was, may not be told ; bot half an
hour later the lawyer, looking from Lis win
dow. b< b-.ld Captain Forsythe tenderly be
stowed tu the coupe of aiadatoe, and that
lady having seated herself besido bio), the
equipage rolled rapidly away in the dike
j tion of tho chateau.
j “He is lost!” exclaimed M. Durce, sos
In the win'er of 1850 two medical gen
lletiu n, one a Frenchman aod the other an
American, visited a eelebrated in»ane a?y
. lum, in the south of Franch. After being
' shown over the establishment by the courte
ous director, lie excused himself for a few
! moments, and, njOn his return, explained
' that it was to give certain orders in refer
tnc to a patient who had just died.
| “A somewhat singular case of monoma
nia,” said he. “A poor devil, with uuc log,
: who imistrd that he was another man come
to life again—by-tho-wty, a countryman ot
yours (addrc: s:rg tho American) —not the
madman, but him be represented, a Mr. or
j Captain Forsythe. It is quite u curious
“Lot us have it, by ali means!” exclaimed
“ Well, brkfly, tbon, this Captain For
sythe was killed in thy Crimean war, leav
ings widow an l a large fortuiio. The
VOL. V. NO. 3.
widow marl it’d again. Stnltlenly this chap
turns up—pruba ily a fellow soldier of tho
captiiu s — end cl.ims fortune and lady ns
he:ug h u:self the veritable Forsythe and
not Mie least do id. At first ho was thought
simply a cunning impostor; but subsequent
I investigation proved Lira to have lo«t his
mental balanco from wounds and suffering,
and after keeping him mos> charitably in her
1 own house for several week) in hopes of dis
covering the relations he had borne to her
deoeasid husband, Madatne de Chastel
placed him with me, begging me, if possi
ble, to cure him, and paying most geDerou -
ly itr my care ts the poor fellow. But,
alas! he was incurable, and, at length, hq ha*
died, persistent to the lust iu his strange do
“Truly a singular case !’’ exclaimed tLo
“And Madame do Chastel?” said tho
Ame can, inquiringly.
“I regri-t tu say, that for a year or more,
I have Imard nothing of her,” replied tho
director. “Her last remittance was from
I aly, nearly eighteen months age.”
0.10 month later, an Amcrkar, glanciug
over a j urnal, in a c Ifoe* house ot London,
was attracted by an article h rein, tu'os'ac
t ally as follows:
“Fadlis Decenstn —A well-dress*d and
rather handsome woman was arrested yester
day in Goldsmith’s jewelry establishment',
with over five buudted pounds worth of stol
en diamonds cud other ring?, pins, etc., in
her possession. She was very indignant at
her arrest, aud upon being taken before a
magistrate, gave her name as the Marchio
ness de Chastel, widow of a F.cneh nobleman
of that name.
“Subsequent, investigation proved that
she was actually tho widow of a titled
Frt neb gamestet and roue, who, after dissi
pating his fortune and her own, shot himself
last year at some Germen spa. Since ('is
death, the marchioness, who is said to bo an
Americao, has gradually fallen—if, indeed,
she had not fallen previously—into a shame
ful and precarious way of life, and this is
said not to be her first offenco in the ‘lifting
Here followed a series of moral reflection'',
which the American did Bot stay to read;
but—“De Chastelhe exclaimed, flinging
paper. “Why, that was tho name
of the lady who—tho widow of that Mr.
Forsythe who was ”
“Good heavens ! ’ he added, after a mo
ment's thought; “if that unfortunate mau
in the csylom was really ho first husband,
alter all 1”
He had, unconsciously,' boon speaking
quite loud. At he u:tered this last phrase
seme one touched bis arm. He looked up,
and saw a grcv«! gentleman in black.
“You are right!” said this person, in
French. “As sure as you and I live, that
unhappy man was no other than Captain
Waltar Forsythe !”
Then, taking a card from from his pocket,
he handed it to the astonished Am rican.
“ M A. Duroc , arocat, Marseilles," said
be, reading aloud ; “well, sir, and how, may
I ark ■(”
“1 was her lawyer, sir, and his,” replied
M. Duroc, anticipating his question. “It
is a s'range, sad i-t r . Would you like to
‘ Well, then,” began tho lawyer, and sit
ting down, he related briefly to tLo Ameri
can what has been herein set forth at moro
“And now this woman?” queried the lis
“Will bo transported to the penal colo
nics,” replied Dir c.
“And sirvc her right !” qoulh her fellow
countryman, wiili more justice than gtllau
It ador, this s’ory is true. But its name*
and dates and places arc all false.
Tho Montreal an<l Toronto papers express
f;iti«fart.ion that tho provincial delegates
have not noerptod the firms pro'o«ed for
the continuation of the Reciprocity Treaty.
O.io paper (The <i 1 the) gays: “One happy
result of the course adopted by the United
State* will he the speedy confederation of
tho Rriti-h American I’rovioes, the absoluto
necessity of whieh will bo now apparent.—
With coofedmtion will be carried the im
p'ovenicrit of internal communication,
throwing op'**) lan Is to free sett] rnent, tho
gradual reduction of tho customs taiiff,
open ng nev markets, the vigorous prosecu
tion ot fishery and mineral enterprire—the
opet iog up of the N rthwest, the erm
inoncomcnt if an cn’afged system of emi
g-atiun westward, and Prevision of the sys
. ti of banking and currency. The people
ot British America nerd not doubt that
brighter prospects id tho future are befjrc
Tat; F cntvks of Yoorn — Florida, the
1 .and of Flowers, was discovered by Jnsn
I’oncc de U'on, in 151*2. The magnificent,
'o’i- ge and balmy air, redolent wi ll the per
fume of many flowers, completely enriptured
tho di-oovirer of this second Paradise, and
he straightway set about seeking the Foun
tain of U javen< rcence, whose graceful wa
ters, “gushing forth iu the midst, of Roses,’’
would give, be was told, renewed elasticity
and v'gor to his war-worn limbs, and the
freshness cf youth to his weather boa ton
features Washington Irvin* very graph
ically d< ser bos the many perils and mishaps
[ and final disappointment of the adventu ous
t Spaniard iu his seaich for tho Fountain of
j Youth. •
To all letters soliciting “subscrip
t' ns, ” Lord Kr kino had a regular form of
reply, namely .
“ Sir, I feel muck honored by your j»p.
pliesit'o.i to me, and beg to subscribe (Hero
the reader had to turn over leaf) tnyself your
very obedient servant,”&c.
j&r A li:tie boy, cn coming tome
from ciiurch, where ho bad seen a porson
woik the bellows of tho organ, said to his
. . ° ’
“OH. mamma, T wish you had b'en »*•
! church to-dr.y—such fun I A man pump 1
music out of an old cupboard