Newspaper Page Text
(From the < hli-ago Lnlpr,]
OLIVIA;
oa,
TEE DOCTOR’S TWO 10YE3.
BY THB AUTHOR OF
* Tke Second Mrs. Tilloteon' *if ever
Forgotten * Etc., Etc.
{CHAPTER ll—CojtTurtntD.]
Ton muat go." he said, when I had
LnisLeo, His voice was hollow and
broken, but the words were spoken dis
tinctlv enough for me to hear them.
lea. there is no help for me,” I
answered; "there is no rest for me but
death.”
It would be better to die,” he said,
solemnly, “than return to a life like
that.. I would sooner bury you up yon
der, in our little graveyard, than give
you up to your husband. ”
“You will help me in get away at
once?” I asked.
“At once," he repeated, in the same
broken voice. His face looked gray,
and his mouth twitched. He leaned
against his boat, as if he could hardly
stand; as I was doing myself, for I felt
utterly weak and shaken.
“Howsoon?" I asked.
“To-morrow I will row you to Guern
sey in time for the packet to England, ”
he answered. “MonDieu! how little
I thought what I was mending my boat
fori _ Mam’/elle, is there bothing,
nothing in the world I can do for you ?”
“Nothing, Tardif," 1 said, sorrowfully.
“Nothing 1” he assented, dropping his
head down npon his hands, No, there
was positively nothing he could do for
me. There was no person on the face
of the earth who could help me.
“My poor'l ardif,” I said, laying my
hand on his shoulder, “I am a great
trouble to you."
“I cauuot bear to let you go in this
way,” he replied, without looking np.
“If it had been to marry Doctor Mar
tin—why, then But you have to go
alone, poor little child 1”
“Yes,” 1 said, “alone.”
After that we were both silent for
some minutes. We could hear the
peaceful lapping of the water at oui
feet, and its boom against the rocks,
and the shrieking of the sea-gulls; bul
there was utter silence between us two.
I felt as if it would break my Peart tc
leave this place, and go whither I knew
nok Yet there was no alternative.
“Tardif,” I said at last, “I will gc
firi tto London. It is so large a plaoe,
nobody will find me there. Besides,
they would never think of me going
back to London. When I am tliero J
will try to get a situation as governess
eomewliere. I could teach little chil
dren ; and if 1 go into a school there
will be no one to fall in love with me,
like Doctor Martin. I am very sorry
for him.” J
“Sorry for himl” repeated Tardif.
“les. very sorry,” I replied; “it is as
If I must bring trouble everywhere.
Yon are troubled, and I cannot helpit.”
“I have only had one trouble as
great,” he said, as if to himself, “and
that was when my poor iittle wife died.
1 wish to God I could kt ep you here
in safety, but that is impo sible."
“Quite impossible,” I answered.
Yet it eeemed too bad to be true
M hat had I done, to be driven awav
from this quiet little home into the
cold, wide world, poor and friendless,
after all my father’s far-seeing plans
and precautions to secure me lrom
poverty and friendliness? What was to
l>e my lot in that dismal lnture, over
the threshold of which I must cross to
morrow?
Tardif and I talked it oil over that
evening, sitting at the cottage door un
til the last gleam of daylight had faded
from the sky. He had some money in
hand just then, which ho had intended
to invest the next time he went to
Guernsey, and could see his notary.
This money, thirty pounds, ho urged
me to accept as a gift; but I insisted
upon leaving with him my watch and
cham in pledge, until I could repay the
money. It would be a long tme before
I could do that. I knew, for 1 was re
solved never to return to Richard Fos
ter, and to endure any privation rather
than claim my p opertv.
I lelt Tardif a'ter a while, to pack
up my very few possessions. We did
not ten m's mot nor iimi i was going, ibr
he said it would bo better not! lii the
morning he would simply let her know
I was going over to Guernsey. No
communication had over passed bo
tween the old woman and mo except by
signs, yet I should miss even her in
that cold, careless crowd in which 1
was about to be lost, in the streets of
London.
\Ve started at four in the morning,
while the gray sky was dappled over
with soft clouds, and the sea itself
seemed waking up from sleep, as if it
too had been slumbering through the
night The morning mist upon the
cUfis made them look mysterious, as if
they had some secrets to conceal. Un
trodden tra 'ks (limbo 1 the surface of
the rocks, and were lost in the line,
filmy haze. Thu water looked white
nd filmy, with lines across it like t o
tra ks on the dill's, which no human
foot could tread, and the lido was com
ing back to the shore with a low, tran
quil, yet sad moan. The sea-gulls
skimmed past us with their white
wings, almost touching us, their plaint
ive wailing seem ng to w. rn us of the
treachery and sorrow of the sea, I was
not afraid of the treacherv of the sea,
yet I could not bear to Lear them, nor
could Tardif.
We landed et one of the stone stair
cases running up the side of the pier
at rnisrunpv, im w woie c-uiy Ju ->i >u
time for tile steamer. The steps were
alimy and wet with seaweed, but Tar
•lif’a hand grasped wine firmly, lie
unshod his way through tho crowd ol
Wlera who were watching tho lading ol
the cargo, and took me down immedi
ately into the eabiu.
"Goo d-by, tnamzel e,” he said; “1
must leave jou. Bend for uie, or come
to me, if you are in trouble and I can
do anything for you. If it acre to Aus
tralia, 1 would follow you. 1 know I
am only fit to bn your servant, Inn all
the snm 1 etn vour friend. You Lave
a little regard fot me, uhuuQi-llm ?“
“Oh. T* rdif!" 1 sc.LI iod, “I love you
eery dearly."
“Now lint makes me glad," he said,
bold ing toy hand between bin, ami look
ing down at me with tears in Ins ev.it;
'you said that from /.un good !,* , i,
mam'seUe. When 1 am oit alone i.i
my bout, I shall think of it, and tn tl.u
to IT wrote! BUrlill bv the file, when
there ia no 1 Hie mam’aaiie to com# m i
talk to me, | shall aey to myself, hie
lovee %ou *ry dearly.* Uood ht,
mew'xelie. (Jml be with you end pro
teci yon f*
"flood-by,* f Mod, with a sore titi> t
hi tey heart i “geol t>y. l udif. ji is
There was no time ro say more, for a
i>ell raug londlv on dt'ck, ATid e i.eard
f ne cry, “All friends on *lwre!” Tar
dif put his lips to my hand, and left
me. I was indeed alone.
CHAPTER 111.
osuns no netted*.
Ones mt.\ I found myself in Lon
don, a city so strange to me that I did
not know the name of itny street* in it.
I had more acquaintance w.th almost
every great city on the Continent. For
tunately, Tardif had given me the ad
dress ol a boarding house, or rather a
small family hotel, where he had stayed
two or three times, and I drove there
at once. It was in a quiet back Street,
within sound of St. Paul’s clock. The j
hour was so late, nearly midnight, that
I was looked upon with suspicion, as a
young woman traveling alone, and with
little luggage. It was only when I
mentioned Tardif, whose island bearing
had ruado him noticeable among the
stream of strangers passing through
the house, that the mistress of the
place connected to take me in.
This was my first difficulty, but not
the last. By the advice of the mistress
of the boarding-house, I went to sev
eral governess agencies, which were ad
vertising for teacher's in the daily pa
pers. At most of these they would not
even enter my name, as soon as I con
fessed my inability to give one or two
references to persons who would vonch
for my general character and my quali
fications. This was a fatal impedi-
ment, and one that had never occurred
to me, yet the re jnosfc was a re teonable
one, even essential. What could be
more Suspicious than a girl of my age
without a friend to give a guarantee of
her respectability ? There seemed no
hope whatever of my entering Into the
ill-paid tanks of governesses.
When a fortnight Lad passed with
no opening for me, I felt it necessary
to leave the boarding-house which hail
been my temporary home. I must
economize my funds, for I did not know
Wandering about The least fashionable
suburbs, where lodgings would cost
least, I found a bedroom in the third
story of a house in a tolerably respect
able street. The rent was six shillings
a week, to be paid in advance. In this
dace I entered upon a uew phase of
ife, so different from that in Sark
that, in the delusions which solitude
often brings, I could not always believe
myself the same person.
A dreamy, solitary, gloomy life: shut
in upon myself, with no outlet for as
sociation with my fellow-creatures. My
window opened upon a back yard, with
a row of half-built houses standing op
posite to it. These houses had been
eft half-finished, and were partly fall
ing into ruin. A row of hare, empty
window-frames faced me whenever 1
turned my wearied eyes to the scene
without. Not a sound or sign of life
was there about them. Within, my
room was scantily furnished, yet there
was scarcely space enough for me to
move about it. There was no table for
me to take my meals at, except the top
of the crazy chest of drawers, which
served ?s my dressing-table. One chair,
broken in the back, and tied together
with a faded ribbon,- was tho only seat,
except my box, which, set in a corner
where I could leau against (he wall,
made me the most comfortable pla -e
for resting. Tliero was a little
rusty grate, but it was still summer
time, and there was no need of a lire.
A fire, indeed, would have been insup
portable, for the sultry, breathless at
mosphere of August,' with tho fever
heat of its sun burning in the narrow
streets and close yard made the tem
perature as parching as on oven. I
panted for the cool dill's and sweet,
iresh air of Sark.
111 this feverish solitude ono day
dragged itself after another with awful
monotony. As they passed by, the
only chnngo they brought was that the
sultry heat grew ever cooler, and the
long days shorter. The winter seemed
inclined to set in early, and with un
usual rigor, for a month before the
usual time fires became necessary. I
put off lighting mine for fear of the
cost, until my sunless little room under
the roof was almost like an ice-house,
A severe cold, which made me afraid of
having to call iu a doctor, compelled
mo to have a fire; and the burning of
it, and the necessity of tending it, made
it like a second person and companion
in tho lonely placo. Hour after hour I
sat in front of it on my box, with my
?lhows on my knees and my chin in my
hands, watching the changeful scenery
of Its embers, and the upward rolling
of the tiny colnmus of smoke, aud tho
fiery, gorgeous colors that came and
went with a breath. To seethe tongues
h lire lap round the dull, black coal,
nd run about it, and feel it. and kindle
it with burning touches, and never quit
it till it was glowing and fervid, and
illume like themselves—that was my
sole occupation for hours together.
Think wliat a dreary life for a young
girl! 1 was as fond of companionship,
and needed lovo as much, us any girl.
Was it strange that my thoughts dwelt
somewhat dangorously upon the pleas
ant, peaceful days in Sark?
When I awoke in the morning to a
voiceless, solitary, idle day, how could
I help thinking of Martin Dob ee, of
Tardif, even of old Mother llenouf,
with her wrinkled face and her signifi
cant nods and beeks? Martin Dobree's
pleasant face would come before me,
with his eyes gleaming so kindly under
his square forehead, and his lips mov
ing tremulously with every cliango oi
feeling. Had he gone back to his
cousin Julia again, and wore they mar
ried? I ought not to feel any sorrow
at that thought. His path had ruu side
by side with mine for a little while, but
always with a great barri -rbetween us;
and now tliev had diverged, and most
?row farther and farther apart, never
to touch again. Y’et, how my father
would have loved him had he known
him! How securely ho would have
ti ii-ted to his care for me! But atop!
1 hero was folly and wickedness in
nking that way. Let me make an
end of that.
There was no loneliness like that
I uelitit bs. Twice a day I exchanged
a word or two with the overworked
trudge of a servant in the house where
II vt<. i; but 1 had no other voice to
-peak to me. .No wonder that my
imagination sometimes r*n in forbid ien
uutl dangerous channels.
M lion 1 was not thinking #nd dream
ing thus, a host nf am alias crowded
oiS' Uv ifnii.y vu tnelt.
away again, though slowly, for I ds
ni#-#l myself every thing but the bare
utteeMaries of li.a. hat was to be
et tui ■of tee wheu it was ail gone? It
was the old question; but the auswer
was as difficult in Mid ns evsr. f was
ready for any kind of work, but no
' haiiee of work i ante to me, With
I *. . r uot #*’*’/, what was 1
to twr What was to be tin# end of it?
Now and tin#, rLu 1 vmtiurad 'Hit
euwm, a would wcist
GEORGIA HOME JOURNAL: GRKEXESBORO. FRIDAY. OCTOBER 22. 1886.
me, a dread unalterably great, that
might meet my hnslmnd amid the
crowd. I did not even know that be
I was in London; he had always spoken
lof it as apl .ee he detested. Ilis liab
-1 its made the free, unconventional life
upon the Continent more agreeable to
him. How lie was hiring now, what ho
was doing, where ho was, were so many
enigmas to me, and I did not care to
run any risk in finding out the answers
to them. Twice I passed the Bonk of
Australis, where very probably I could
have learned if he was in the same city
as myself, but dared Dot do it; and, as
soon os I knew how to avoid that street,
I never passed along it.
I had been allowed tn leave my ad
dress with the clerk os u large general
agency in the city, when I had not
been permitted to enter my name in the
books for want of reference. Toward
the close of October I received a note
from him, desiring me to t all at the of
fice at two o’clock the following after
noon, without fail.
No danger of my failing to keep such
an appointment! I felt in better spir
its that night than I had done sine e I
had been driven from Sark. There
was an opening for me, a chance of
finding employment, and I resolved
beforehand to take it, whatever it
might be.
It was an agency for almost every
branch of employment not actually
menial, from curates to lady’s-maids,
and the place of business was a large
one. Tliere were two entrances, and
two distinct compartments, at the op
posite ends of tho building; but a
broad, long counter ran the whole
length of it, and a person at one end
could see the applicants at the other as
they stood by the counter. The com
partment into which I entered was
tilled with a crowd of women, waiting
their turn to transact their business.
Behind the counter were two or three
private boxes, in which employers might
see the candidates, and question them
on the spot. A lady at that moment
was examining a governess in a loud,
imperious voice, which we could all
hear distinctly. My heart sank at the
idea of passing through such a cross
examination as to my age, my personal
hi dory, my friends, and a number of
particulars foreign to the question of
whether I was lit for tho work for
which I offered myself.
At last I heard the imperious voioe
say, “You may go. Ido not think sou
will suit me,” and & girl of about my
own ago came away from the inter
view, pale and trembling, and with
tears stealing down her cheeks. A
second girl was summoned to go
through the same ordeal.
It was a miserable sight, this crowd
of poor women seeking work, and my
spirits sank like lead. A set of mourn
ful, depressed, women I
There was not ono Iwinld have cho
sen to be a governess fpr my girls.
Those who were not dispirited were
vulgar and self-asserting; aroliiss that
wished to rise above the position they
were fitted for by becoming TAachers.
These were laughing loudly among
themselves at the cross-questioning go
ing on so calmly within their hear.ng.
I shrank away into a corner, until my
turn to speak to the busy clerk should
come. t
I had a long time to wait. The office
clock pointed to half-past three before
I caught the clerk’s eye, anil saw him
beckon me up to the counter. I had
thrown back my veil, for here I was
perfectly safe from recognition. At
the other end of the counter, in
the compartment devoted to curates,
doctors’ assistants, and others, there
stood a young man in earnest consulta
tion with another clerk. Ho looked
earnestly at me, but I was sure he
could not know me.
“Miss Ellen Martiueau?” said the
clerk. That was my mother’s name,
and I had adopted it for my own, feel
ing as if I had some right to it.
es, I answered#
“Would you object to go into a
French school as governess?” he in
quired.
“Not in the least,” I said, eagerly.
“And pay a small promium?” he said.
“How much?” I asked, my spirit*
falling again.
“A mere trifle.” he said; “about ten
pounds or so for twelve months. Y'ou
would perfect yourself in French, you
know, and you ivould gain a reference
for the future.”
“I must think about it,” I replied.
“Well, tliere is the address of a lady
who can give you all the particulars,"
he said, handing me a written paper.
I left the office heavy-hearted. Ton
pounds would be more than half of tnc.
little store left to me. Yet, would id
not be wiser to secure n refuge ant
shelter for twelvo months than run thw
risk of not finding nnv other situation:
I walked slowly along the street to war/;
the busier thoroughfares, with my bead
bent down and my mind busy, wheu
suddenly a heavy hand was laid up<oj
my arm, grasping it with crushing
force, and a harsh, thick voice shouted
triunu’hantly in my oar:
“The devil! I’ve caught you at lawil*
ITo BE CONTINUED.I
A Rapid Transformation.
The two ftripples as they appeared
when no officer waa in sight
Tht twe < ripplss ss they sjqawrftd tejr
i rath r dtsapp'sinii whi n an officer so i
daaly osioi ia vUw —FUegendt J lUttur.
n ■ upm hi
M k .jjfusWu*. f* . la bulbil** *
, slt,oWi,Ao#i hotel
I NEW ADVERTISEMENTS.
JACOBS'DRUG STORE
THE TIME-HOHORED CHESTHUT
j Of offering to sell “as cheap” and withholding prices Is resurrected periodically
and invariably understood by the people.
Here is the agreement signed by nine-tenths of the Druggists
doing business in Atlanta at the time Jacobs reduced
prices so that the rich and the poor alike
could afford to alleviate their ills.
ARTICLES OF AGREEMENT.
We, the undersigned Druggists of the city of Atlanta, hereby agree and bind ourselves to
adhere In good faith to the following scale of prices on Proprietary Medicines and Preparations:
All Proprietary Medicines or Preparations Not Enumerated, and
Upon Which There is No Marked Price, We Agree to
Sell at No Less Than 50 Per Cent Advance
On Their Dozen Or Cost Per Dozen.
We recognise and imlst that selling to the consumer Proprietary Article or Medicines is properly
the business of the Retail Dealer; we therefore agree that we will not buy from any dealer who sells
such articles to anyone (except Druggists or dealers in general merchandise) at less than the regular
prices agreed upon by this Association. We further bind ourselves not to bu_v from any house seU
ing a dealer violating the scale of prices hereby adopted, neither will we buy from any house or Arm,
local or forelgtq_who, after having been notified, continnes selling to such dealers. We further
agree not to bny any article mannractared by or In which said violator of this agreement is interested
in, and that we will do all in our power to prevent the sale of such article.
Now let me show why I can afford to sell medicines, etc., so low: Buying in large quantities,
direct from the manufacturers, I retail at wholesale prices—that is all there is of it. To illustrate: I
buy Warner’s Kidney Care direct from Mr. Warner, in his largest lots, ten days cash, which makes
it cost me 77c.; I sell it at 83c., only 6c. profit, bnt when yon multiply this by forty-five gross, the
amount I have sold so far this year, yon see how it is. The retail druggist pays SlO per dozen, or
82)4 c per bottle, and, of course, cannot compete with me.
MY GOODS ARE TEN TIMES AS FRESH
as those of other places. I turn them over so fast, because of my LOW PRICKS. “A penny saved
is a penny earned.”
A Few Chestnuts not so Easily Cracked!
JACOBS’ PRICES:
Extract Lemon, concentrated, *l.OO pint. Used
In the Kimball Honse an 1 Anniston Inn.
Extract Vanilla, concentrated, *1 50 pint. Used
in the Kimball House and Anniston Inn.
Onr Bing
Price. Price.
Deleclalave ( 35 * 50,
Moxie 40 io,
Seidlltz Powders (full wt,l2in box) 25 40&50,
O. I. C., large 1 20 1 50;
Guinn’s Blood Kenewer, large 1 25 1 75
Cook’s Pills 10 20
Nerve and Bone Liniment 15 25
Allcock’s Plasters 10 20
Brewer’s Lung Restorer 55 1 09
Mandrake and Buchu 35 50
Tarrant’s Aperient ,85 100
8 8. 8,, large 99 1 75
8. S. 8., small 59 1 00
Magnolia Halm (0 75
Brown's Iron Bitters 74 10'
llopßlters 75 101
Oriemal Cream 1 OO 1 25
Lemon Elixir 394 79 504 1 00
Cheney’s Expectorant 19438 25151
Darby’s Fluid 40 50
Hall’s Hair Renewer 73 1 00
Mustang L'nimeut, small 19 25
Itolines’ Liniment 89 1 50
ii' Alllster’a Ointment 16 25
Ayer’s, Brandreth’s, Jaynes’, Mc-
Lean’s, Rad way’s, Mchenck’s,
strong’s, Warner’s and Wright's
Pills 17 25
Tutt’s Pills 15 25
JICOBS'DRUG STORE, ATLANTA,CI.
HOT AIR FURNACES !
Steam Heating, Plumbing and Gas Fitting,
Hotel Ranges aid Beating Steves for Public Bulge
.A. SPECIALTY.
The Largest Stock and Greatest Variety of HEATING & COOKING STOVES
Murhlelzed Iron and Slate Mantels, Hurd Wood Mantels, Walnut, Cherrv, Oak and A all with
Cabinet Tops, Nickel Trimmed Urates, Plain, Half Low and Club House Grates, Brass Fender* and
Fire Sets, Tile Hearth*, Facings, Vestibule Tile, Slate Hearths, Gas Chandeliers, Pendants and
Brackets of the be#tand most popular manufacture and of the highest type of mechanical inge
nuity and skill. Manufacturers of Plain Tin Ware and Jobbers of Stamped and Jananed Ware.
Tin Plate and Metal*, Tinners’ Supplies, Black and Galvanized Sheet Iron. Copper, etc Plumbers’’
and Steam Fitters’ Supplies, Wrought Iron Pipe and Fittings, Hose, Pumps, Steam Cocks. Ganges
Whistles, Water Cloaetg, Wash Stands, Bath Tubs, Marble Slabs. Sinks and Piumbers’ Goods gen
erally. Contractors for Plumbing, Sieant and Gas Fitting, Galvanized Iron and Tin Work Our
workmen are first-etas* and onr work guaranteed. Persons wishing anything In the House Furnish
ing line wu. do well to write n* for prices or call and see onr stock before purchasing elsewhere
Manufacturer* of Concrete Sewer and Drain Pipe. Agents for Knowles’ steam Pumps.
HUNNICtJTT & BELLINGRATH,
36 & 38 Peachtree Street. Atlunta, Ga.
Oct 22-**6 *
BONDURANT, JOPLING & CO.,
MANUFACTURERS OF
All Kinds of Bricks I
- PROPRIETORS OF THE OLD AND POPULAR—
DeLAICLE AND AUGUSTA BRICK YARDS.
Establised in 1820. Estimated production since then, 250,000,000 Brick.
Quality and color unsurpassed North or South . Large stock always on hand.
Write to us before purchasing. Orders Promptly Filled.
BONDURANT, JOPLING & CO.,
OcbtvA* AUGUSTA, GA.
NEW EfIOPS! NEW HOODS!!
MRS. N. BRUM CLARK,
OXO Broad St., ATJGUSTA, GA.
lU* put In a hesstiful new Une of MILLINERY AND FANCY GOODS, HATS, BONNETS,
LAI KS, FEATHER* AND FID WEB.*), AND ALL THE SPUING NOVELTIES, la Greater Variety
•mi Lower In Price than ever before. Examine before yon pnrebate elsewhere, we will lull you.
MHtKEhNIW also made Is the very LtlMt Style*. The ladle* r* requeued lo write for ootalone
and prices
MRS. N. BRUM CLARK.
H. C. DUNLOP,
BOOK AND JOB PRINTER.
FrlOM Roasonable.
KHTIMATKH CHEERFULLY FUBNIRHED,
13 Elit Huntr Sirwt,
ATLANTA, • - GEORGIA.
My Ring
_ , _ _ Price. Price.
Benson s Capcine Plasters $ 17 $ 2s
Bradfield’s Regulator 49476 7541 00
Warner’s Safe Kidney Cure 83 125
Dally Salve 20 23
Sozodont sq 7s
B. B. B .. 5 100
Camphor Ice io 35
, Bandoline 10 25
j Beef, Wine and Iron, pints 80 1 00
| Blue Castile Soap, full ,-lze 18 bar 85
Hamburg Liniment 15 25
Tee.hlna 18439 21450
Ayer’s Hair Vigor 73 100
't. Jacob's Oil 40 no
Murray A Lanman’s Florida Water 65 75
Swan’s Diwn Powder 15 25
Scott's Em Mon Cod Liver 0i1... 75 100
Fel-ow sSyrnp Hypophosphites.. 1 18 1 50
Lobin’ Extracts, nil odors 65 75
Atkinson’s Extracts, all odors. 65 75
l.undborg’s, Wright’s anil other
bulk Extracts, per ounce 40 50
Concentrated Crab Orchard Water 25 35
Carlsbad Sprudel Salt, (15 100
Phillips’ Emulsion of Cod Liver
Oil 75 1 00
Bromo Caffeine 1 00 1 25
Powdered Borax, per pound " 22 40
Q iniue, per grain % j
rs’-Medlcine Tumblers and Corkscrews given
away to Customers.
Or-EXACT CHANGE GIVEN.TEO
COUNTERFEIT COIN.
How the Spurious Money Is
Made In New York.
Devioes tar Passing it Undetected by Itali
ans, Who Are the Principal Offenders.
Counterfeiting United States coin* and
bills is said to be carried on now as
much ns formerly, but there have boon
many changes in it* method* nnd the
manner of getting rid of the "queer"
wheu made. Tho day* of tho hidden
nook in the mountain, whore, in a hut,
the export maker of base coins carried
on hi* nefarious trade with door care
fully barricaded and rifles and revolvers
lying about within easy reach, are over.
Now the coin is made mostly
in cities, and that too in crowded neigh
borhood*.
In the making of bad coins in this
city the Italians have a monopoly, and it
is against the Italian workmen that
Chief Drummond, of the secret service
bureau in this city, is kept busy procur
ing evidence and bringing them to court.
Almost without exception, every Italian
counterfeiter arrested in this city during
the last three years—and there have
been many of them captured—has said
that he came from Sicily. They are, as
a rule, dull looking, ignorant fellows,
notwithstanding their skill in furnishing
and manufacturing the coins. Most fre
quently they have a little knowledge of
the jewelry trade, and apparently they
take as naturally to counterfeiting as fish
to water. A number of Italians in this
city who are not makers of bad coins are
always ready to pass those made by oth
ers, and tho skilled deviser
of illegitimate money is to them a
hero.
The workman hires a flat in a tene
ment, into which he moves his family,
reserving one room as a workshop. He
lays in a stock of antimony, plaster of
paris, moulds, a lathe and other appli
ances, and is ready for business. Rarely
do his neighbors suspect that anything
is wr mg. He takes a good coin for a
pattern and soon has the room filled with
the coins in various stages of construc
tion. Never does the maker attempt to
pass the money himself. He either sells
it to the passer, or, more frequently, to a
middle man. For this reasou it is diffi
cult to get at th i makers, and the secret
service detectives are always happy when
they find a workshop with a kit of tools
and a good supp yof stock. The mid
dle men sell to the man who does the
passing. Bad coin can be bought at the
rate of 4 for ten bad dollars, though
higher prices are usually charged at first.
When the passer gets the coin he usually
frequents the side streets, where in small
cigar stores and confectionery shops he
passes off his spurious dollars, etc., in
payment for small articles, thus receiv
ing good money in change.
The law requires that “intent to de
ceive” must be proven against the of
fender, nnd for this reason the counter
feit money-passers go often in pairs. One
man carries the coin; he deals it out one
coin at a time to his companion, who
enters the shop, while the other remains
outside. Thus, if the passer is arrested,
no other bad coins are found on his per
son, and he can assert that he did not
know that the coin he offered in pay
ment was bad. Many escape conviction
by this method.
The fruit stand Italians are usually
unscrupulous in working off bad money,
though they seldom have a stock of any
thing of larger denomination than dimes
and quarters. More than half of the
small coin that is bad works its way into
circulation through these fellows. You
tell the vender that the coin is bad, and
he will immediately cry out: “Mo no
tell bada money; me just come from
Italy.” Comparatively few arrests are
made on complaint of the police. When
bad money is leceived unwittingly, few
hesitate to pass it on. There is a cheap
restaurant keeper on the old Chatham
street who, every few weeks, brings all
the bad coins he has taken in down to
the secret service bureau in the post
office building. Very few take this
trouble.
There is an erroneous idea abroad that
the government makes good the bad
money received. This is a mistake. The
government confiscates all bad coins, and
the only relief of the person imposed
upon is a civil suit in one of the district
courts against the passer for the value of
the money lost.
The passer of counterfeit money, when
convicted, may receive as heavy a sen
tence as ten years in state prison and a
fine of SIOOO. Apparently there is an
attraotiveness about making the coin,
and when discharged from prison the
manufacturer almost invariably goes
back to the old business.— New Terk
Commercial.
Superiority of American Cloth.
“American mills,” says an expert in
the New York Hun, “have to follow the
foreign in the matter of styles or pat
terns, but the best expert in the country
is unable to tell whether a p eoe of cloth
is American or British from an examina
tion of it. The Itest looms in the world
are made in Massachusetts, and the best
weavers are on deyed In the mill*, whara
the highest wage* for the work are paid.
If there ia any difference between the
beat American product and the beat for
eign, it la in favor of the American, and
all th manufacturers are coming to sea
it, The foreign manufacturer is begin
ning to cut (be quality of goods—ln fact,
in order to meet our prices, and ama of
tbs high-priced tailors am beginning to
gal suspicious of import and goods.
Th* Americ n manufacturer cannot yet
n uuite ia prie- without the aid of a
tariff, but ih* lints when Ira eon do even
that way aunte. I hough I boiw not, if
•Mb it would brtt 11 r-fgm the law
wages pact tafostigo > pcat ran,"
The Sardine Industry,
The sardine industry has been for the
last forty or fifty years one of the most
important of the west of France, furnish
ingemployment to a large fleet of fishing
vessels and supporting many thousand
fishermen and their families. Sixty years
ago it was at its best, and the fish were
so numerous during the season that it wa
found necessary to reinforce the regular
fishermen with laborers from the neigh
boring portions of Brittany. Wages
were good and everybody was proiper
ou* and happy. For some years past tho
annual supply has been becoming more
and more irregular, causing great anxiety
among tho population hitherto support
ed by this means, attracting the atten
tion of scientists and inducing the
French government to appoint a commis
sion to examine into the subject. Hus
question which is first naturally asked is,,
whence did the sardine come, and why
have its visits of late years been so irreg •
ular? Some writers have designated ihah
part of the ocean called the Mer des Sar
dasses, while others have thought that,
it occupied, when not seen, parts of the*
deep sea bottom nearer to the coast of
Europe. On these points there is a wide
difference of opinion. The only fact that,
seems to be clearly established is that im
the spring it ascends along the European,
coast, following the curreut, or rather
meeting the current of the Gulf stream,,
passing beyond its mild waters in May
and June. Since the change has occurred
it has stopped farther south, compelling
those fishermen who had a sufficient
amount of enterprise to go to seek it on
tho coast of Portugal or of Africa, whero
it can be had at a low price, but of in
ferior quality. But the affairs of those
who have been depending on the catch
have been constantly going from bad to
worse. Sailors out of employment have
been compelled to seek other means of
existence; packers have been ruined, six;
or seven out of every ten doing an ex
ceedingly bad business, if not failing
entirely. Some sar lines are still caught,
but the greatly diminished quantity lias
caused widespread disaster among both
working and commercial classes. —San
Francisco Chronicle.
' Origin of a Famous Song.
In a very interesting and otherwise his
torically accurate article with the caption
“Bong and Song Makers,” in tho Press,
the writer is mistaken when ho says that
the famous song, “Put Me iu My Little
Bed,” realiz 'd its author and pu disher.
Charles A. White, some $24,000. “Put
Me in My Little Bed” was written by
Dexter Smith. Charles A. White fur
nished the accompaniment, nnd the firm
of Wli.te, Smith & P. rry published it.
I have no doubt that the publishers made
at least the amount stated on its sale, lor
it jumped at once into popular favor.
Dexter Smith had previously written a
song that was very popular, “Ring the:
Bell Softly, There’s Crape on the Door,”’
and experience taught him that “catchy,”'
words, a sim ile, lively air and a good
title were necessary to make a song pop
ular. The publishing house of which he
was a member was just starting in busi
ness, and lie was anxious to advance its
interests. He was looking about him for
a theme upon which to base a song, and
one summer night, whilst strolling through
the streets of Boston, he passed a house
on the steps of which was a little family
party enjoying the evening breeze. Just
as Mr. Smith reached the group, a curly
headed little girl put licr arms around
the neck of an older sister, and, in a
sleepy voice, said: “Sister, put me in
my little bed.” The phrase caught the
song-writer’s ear, and before lie retired
the idea was put iu words. Mr. Smith
furnished the music, aud White, Smith
& Perry netted a snug little sum from its
sale. —Philadelphia Press.
Salmon Poaching in Canada.
The unlawful act which the wardens
most carefully guard against is “drift
ing.” One or two poachers will steal
out at night carrying a peculiarly made
net in their canoes. They stretch this
across the head of a pool, and it is so
weighted and buoyed that it stands up
right, reaching nearly to the bottom. As
the current causes the net to drift down
stream, one canoe stays at each end to
keep it straight. There is usually a
white rope at the bottom of the net.
Seeing this, the salmon raise themselves
a little only to be caught by the gills in
the meshes. When the shaking of the
net shows that one is caught, the poacher
quickly paddles to the spot, raises the
net, kills the fish with a blow on its
head, and throws it into the bottom of
the canoe. In this sneaking way nearly
all the salmon in a pool may be netted
out in a night If the wardens happen to
come along in their dug-outs, they try
to seize the net and identify the poach
ers. Then there may boa fight, and
perhaps a canoe will be sunk, and a
poacher or a warden will get a cold bath.
St. Nicholae.
Eyeless Animals.
Mr. Graber has recently described, ia
the transactions of tlio Vienna academy,
the results of observations indicating
that eyeless animali arc sensible to light.
In a box divided into compartments, and
each furnished with two openings, he
distributed equally a number of earth
worms. One of the openings in each
compartment he obscured or coneealed,
and exposed the box to the light, exam
ining the worms from time lo time, and
adding new ones every four hours. By
repeated observations he found they
showed a decided tendency lo withdraw
to tire darker parts of the oompartments,
only forty out of total of tso remain
log In the light. He also otudh and the in.
|un<* of different rays upon them, sad
found them susceptible to th# utffsreot
colors. When the openings w invered
with blue cad red fix** they insuMoeted
• arll#d peeler earn fnt the red light,*-