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TO ONE WHO WILL UNDERSTAND.
Beauties there were at the ball to-night,
Beauties with powder, patch and paint;
Dark eyes swam in their liquid light,
Blue eyes plead like the pictured saint,
And the giddy note3 of the gay galop
Floated, then fled, through the perfumed air;
Seldom, I ween, in this world below
Mortals are blest with a scene more fair.
A nd I sat by, in half-dreamy trance,
Striving to read in the Future’s book;
Quivering under her transient glance,
Thrilling with love at each lengthened look ;
Till Hope took flight from my prison clay,
And floated in Fancy’s realms above,
While her bright plumed wing fanned the
motes away
That Doubt had cast in the beams of Love.
Silenced the cymbals; the dancing o’er;
Seeking my chamber there strikes a thrill
To my very heart, for beneath the door,
In an envelope, lies—an unpaid bill!
Prayer and Potatoes.
An old lady sat in her old arm chair,
With wrinkled visage and disheveled hair,
And hunger-worn features;
For days and for weeks her only fare,
As she sat in her old arm chair,
Had been potatoes.
But now they were gone; of bad or good,
Not one was left for the old lady’s food,
Os those potatoes ;
And she sighed, and said, “ What shall I do ?
Where shall I send and to whom shall 1 go
For my potatoes ?”
And she thought of the deacon over the way—
The deacon so ready to worship and pray—
Whose cellar was full of potatoes,
she said, “I will send for the deacon to come,
He’ll not much mind to give me some
Os such a store of potatoes.”
Ami the deacon came over as fast as he could,
Thinking to do the old lady some good,
But never for once ot potatoes.
He asked her at once what was her chief want,
And she, simple soul, expecting a grant,
Immediately answered, “Potatoes.”
Bnt the deacon’s religion didn’t lie that way;
He was more accustomed to preach and pray
Than to give his hoarded potatoes.
So not hearing, of course, what the old lady
said,
He rose to pray with uncovered head,
But she ouly thought of potatoes.
He prayed for patiei ce, goodness and grace;
Bnt when he prayed, “ Lord, give her peace,”
She audibly sighed, “Give potatoes.”
And at the end of each piayer which he said,
He beard, or thought he heard, iu its stead
That same request for potatoes.
Deacon was troubled—knew not wbat to do ;
’ f was very embarrassing to have her act so,
And about those carnal potatoes ;
So ending his prayer, he started for borne;
The door closed behind—be heard a deep
groan,
“ O give, to the hungry, potatoes!”
And tbe groan followed him all tbe way home,
In the midst ot tbe night it haunted his room—
“ O, give to tbe hungry, potatoes!”
He could bear it no longer; arose and dressed,
From his well filled cellar taking in haste .
A bag of his best potatoes.
Again he went to the widow’s lone hut;
Her sleepless eyes she bad not yet shut,
But there she sat in her old arm chair,
With the same wan features, tbe same wan air;
And entering in. he poured on the floor
A bushel or more from his goodly store
Os choicest potatoes.
The widow’s heart leaped for joy,
Her face was haggard and pale no mere.
“ Now,” said the deacon, “ shall we pray ?”
“Yes,” said the widow, “ now you uiay.”
And he knelt him down on the sanded floor,
Where he bad poured out his goodly store,
And such a prayer the deacon prayed
As never before his lips essayed.
No longer embarrassed, but free and full,
He poured out the voici of a liberal sou),
And the widow responded a loud “ amen !”
But said no more of potatoes.
And would you hear this simple tale,
Pray for the poor, and praying, prevail ?
Then preface your prayer with alms and good
deeds;
Search out the poor, their wants and needs;
Pray lor their peace and grace, spiritual food,
For wisdom and guidance—all these are good—
But don’t forget the potatoes.
The following lines, taken from the Rome
Courier , are well understood in that section of
the State:
“ I II Hang My ’Arp on a Wilier Tree.”
By a persona! friend I was caught by the ’and,
And was led to a mountain ’igh.
And ’e showed me a prospect lhere,
And the places were fair to my eye.
Bo’ll ’ang my ’Arp on a wilier tree,
And never will touch it agin,
And X 11 vote for the man what greases me,
Because ’e ’as plenty o’ tin.
An office I 6aw in that prospect fair,
And the picture is ’aunting me yet,
For plenty good pickings l»y scattered around,
And didn’t like it—you bet.
Bo I’ll ’ang my ’Arp on a wilier tree,
And never will touch it again,
For I’ll vote for the man who showed it me,
Because I am after the tin.
Oh, General Young is ave y uice man,
But ’e doesn’t know ’ow to grease,
82 I’ll cling to the '»il of my persona! friend,
’Till the waters of Tartarus freeze.
And I’ll Vng my ’Arp on a wilier tree,
And never will touch it agin,
And I'll fall in the Radical lines, you see,
Because they ’ave plenty of tin.
Tons, one by one, do the mighty fltll,
When troublesome times appear,
Like the Summer vines lrom a cottage wall,
When winds blow bleak and drear.
So We’ll 'ar g our ’Arp on a wilier tree,
And never will touch it again,
Jf it chooses to fall in the Radical sea,
Why, there we’ll let it remain.
A couple were married at Great Barring,
too, Mass., on last Tuesday, and on Satur
day the husband returned the bride to her
rea, lie said be wusn’t in the habit of be
ing kicked out of bed by women, and he
wouldn’t stand it. She had bit him, too.
Women are gelling more and moreaoevery
day.
I From the Baltimore Sun.
John H. Surratt.
HIS LECTURE IN ROCKVILLE, MD.—HE TELLS
HIS OWN STORY—A VIVID NARRATIVE—
HISTORY OF THE ABDUCTION FLOT-BUR
RATTS EXPERIENCE WITH J. WILKES
BOOTH—WATCHMAN IMPLICATED IN THE
ABDUCTION PLOT, ETC.
On Tuesday evening Mr. John 11. Surratt
delivered an interesting lecture at Rock
ville, Md., which we find reported in the
Washington Star. Mr. Surratt is well
known for his alleged connection with the
conspiracy against President Lincoln in
1000, his escape, capture, and subsequent
trial and discharge in Washington over a
yeai siuce. Since then he has spent a por
tion of his time in Lower Maryland, been
in the commission business in Baltimore
and now has turned up a school teacher in
nockville.
THE LECTURE.
Court House in Rockville was
crowded by ladies and gentlemen to hear
the lecture. Mr. Surratt opened by stating
that when the late war broke out he was a
student at St. Charles College, iu Mary
land, and only about eighteen years of age,
but soon entered upon the enterprise of
sending secret dispatches to the Confeder
ates by the Potomac boats.
INTRODUCTION TO WILKES BOOTH.
In the Fall of 1864 (says the lecturer) I
was introduced to John Wilkes Booth,
who, 1 was given to understand, wished to
know something about the main avenues
leading from Washington to the Potomac.
We met several times, but as he seemed to
be vary reticent with regard to his purposes,
and very anxious to get all the Information
oat of me he could, I refused to tell him
anything at all. At last I said to him,
“It is useless for you, Mr. Booth, to seek
any information from me at all; I know
who you are and what are your intentions.”
He hesitated some time, but finally said
be would make known his views to me pro
vided I v.ould promise secrecy. I replied,
“I will do nothing of the kind. You know
well lam a Southern man. If you cannot
trust me, we will separate.” He then said :
“ I will confide my plans to yon, but be
fore doing so I will make known to you
the motives that actuate me. In the North
ern prisons are many thousands of our men
whom the United States Government re
fuse to exchange. You know as well as I
the efforts that have been made to bring
about that much-desired exchange. Aside
from the great suffering they are compelled
to undergo, we are sadly in want of them
as soldiers. We cannot spare one man,
whereas the United States Government is
willing to let their own soldiers remain in
our prisons, because she has no need of the
men. I have a proposition to submit to
yon, which I think, if we can carry out,
will bring about the desired exchange.”—
There was a long and
OMINOUS SILENCE
which I at last was compelled to break by
asking, “ Well, sir, what is yonr proposi
tion ?” He sat quiet for an instant, and
then, before answering me, arose and look
ed under the bed, into the wardrobe, in the
doorway and the passage, and then said,
“We will have to be careful; walls have
ears.” He then drew his chair close to me,
and, in a whisper, said,
“ IT IB TO KIDNAP PRESIDENT LINCOLN,
and carry him off to Richmond.” “ Kid
nap President Lincoln!” I said. I confess
that I stood aghast at the proposition, and
looked upon it as a foolhardy undertaking.
To think of successfully seizing Mr. Lin
coln in the capital of the United States,
surrounded by thousands of his soldiers,
and carrying him off to Richmond, looked
to me like a foolish idea. 1 told him as
much. He went on to tell with what fa
cility he could be seized in various places
in and about Washington. As for example,
in his various rides to and from the Sol
diers’ Home, his Summer tesidence. He
entered into the minute details of the pro
posed cap ure, and even the various parts
to be performed by the actors in the per
formance. I was amazed—thunder-struck
—and, in fact, I might also say frightened,
at the
UNPARALLELED AUDACITY
of this scheme. After two days’ reflection,
I told him I was willing to try It. I be
lieved it practicable at that time, though I
now regard It as a foolhardy undertaking.
Ihope you will not blame me for going
thus far. I honestly thought an exchange
of prisoners could be brought abont could
we have obtained possession of Mr. Lin
coln’s person. And now reverse the case.
Where Is there a young man in the North,
with one spark of patriotism in his heart,
who would not have, with enthusiastic ar
dor, joined in any undertaking for the cap
ture of Jefferson Davis and brought him
to Washington? There is not one who
wonld not have done so. And so I was led
on by a sincere desire to assist the South in
gaining her independence. I had 110 hesi
tation in taking part in anything honora
ble that might tend towards the accom
plishment of that object. [Tremendous
applause! Such a thing as the assassina
tion of Mr. Lincoln I never heard spoken
of by any of the party. Never ! [Sensa
tion ]
Mr. Surratt then goes on to show that
he opposed anything beyond the capture
of Mr. Lincoln, narrating the failure of the
abduction attempts, and gives many inci
dents of his visits to and from Richmond
in the early part of the war.
WHERE HE HEARD THE NEWS.
Surratt states that he heard the news of
the assassination while he was at break
fast at the Brainard House, Elmira, New
York, where he was registered as “John
Harrison.” He was there under orders of
Gen Lee, in connection with the plot to
release the Confederate prisoners at Elmira.
He said: , , , .
It never occurred to me for an instant
that it could have been Booth or any of the
party, for the simple reason that I had
never heard anything regard.ng assassina
tion spoken of during my intercourse with
•hem I had good reason to believe tbit
there was another conspiracy afloat in
Washington. In fact, we all knew it. One
evening I overheard a converaation to that
t .ff ec t in the reading room of the Metropol
itan Hotel. 1 told Booth of this after
wards and he said he ha I heard something
to the lame effect- It only mule o» all the j
more eager to carry out our abduction
plana at an early day for fear tome one
should get ahead of us. Arising from the
I breakfast table in Elmira, 1 thought ovar
AUGUSTA, GA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 21, 1870.
who the party could be, for at that time
no names had been telegraphed. I was
pretty sure it was none of the old party'.
1 approached the telegraph office, in the
main hall of the hotel, for the purpose of
ascertaining if J. Wilkes Booth was in
New York. I picked up a blank and
wrote, “John Wilkes Booth,” giving the
number of the house. I hesitated a mo
ment, and then tore the paper up, and then
wrote one “J. W. B,” with directions,
which I was led to do from the fact that,
during our whole connection, we rarely
wrote or telegraphed under our proper
names, but always in such a manner that
no one could understand but ourselves.
One way of Booth’s was to send letters to
me under cover to my quondam friend,
LOUIS J. WEICHMAN.
Doubtless you all know who Louis J.
Weichman is.' They were sent to him be
cause he knew of the plot to abduct Presi
dent Lincoln. I proclaim it here and be
fore the world that Louis J. Weichman was
a party to the plan to abduct President
Lincoln. He had been told all about it,
and was constantly importuning me to let
him become an active member. I refused
for the simple reason that I told him he
could neither ride a horse nor shoot a pis
tol, which he could not. [Laughter.]
These were two necessary accomplishments
for ns. My refusal nettled him some; so
he went off, as it afterwards appeared by
his testimony, and told some Government
clerk that he had a vague idea that there
was a plan of some kind on hand to abduct
President Lincoln. This he says himself;
that he coaid have spotted every man of
the party. Why didn’t he do it? Booth
sometimes was rather suspicious of him, and
asked.me if I thought he could be trusted.
Said I, “ Certainly he can.”
Weichman is a Southern man, and I al
ways believed it until I had good reason to
believe otherwise, because he had famished
information for the Confederate Govern
ment, besides allowing me access to the
Government records after office hours. I
have very little to say of Louis J. Weich
man. But Ido pronounce him a baseborn
perjurer; a murderer of the deepest hue.
Give me a man who can strike his victim
dead, but save me from a man who, throngh
perjury, will cause the death of an innocent
person. Double murderer!!! Hell pos
sesses no worse fiend than a character of
that kind. [Applause.] Away with such
a character. I leave him in the pit of in
famy, which he has dug for himself, a prey
to the lights of his guilty conscience. [Ap
plause.J
I telegraphed Booth thus :
"J. W. J?., in New York “ If you are in
York telegraph me.
“John Harrison, Elmira, N. Y.”
The operator, after looking over it, said,
“ Is it J. W. B?” to which I replied, “ Yes.”
He evidently wanted the whole name, and
had scarcely finished telegraphing-when a
door right near the office, and opening on
the street, was pushed open, and I heard
someone say, “ Yes, there are three or four
brothers of them, John, Junius Brutus,
Edwin and J. Wilkes Booth.” The whole
truth flashed on me in an instant, and I
said to myseif,
“ MY GOD ! WHAT HAVE I DONE ?”
The dispatch was still lying before me>
and I reached over and took it np for the
purpose of destroying it, bnt the operator
stretched forth bis hand and said, “We
must file all telegrams.” My first impulse
was to tear it np, bnt I pitched it back and
walked off. The town was in the greatest
uproar, flags at half-mast, bells toling.&c.
Still I did not think I was in danger, and
determined to go immediately to Baltimore
to find out the particulars of the tragedy.
Bnt here I wish to say a few words con
cerning the
REGISTER OF THE BRAINARD HOUSE.
When my counsel, by my own direction,
went to seek that register, it could not be
found. Our inability to produce it on the
trial naturally cast a suspicion over our
alibi. That some of the Government emis
saries abstracted that register I firmly be
lieve, or perhaps it is stored away in
some of the other Government vaults, under
charge of some judge high in position ; but
this is only a surmise of mine. But the
circumstance involves a mystery of villainy
which the All-seeing God will yet bring to
light. The dispatch I sent to Booth also
from Elmira it was impossible to find.
So sure was the Government that they
had destroyed ail evidence of my sojourn in
Elmira, that in getting me in Washington
in time for Mr. Lincoln’s death they brought
me by way of New York city, but so com
pletely were they foiled In this that in their
rebutting testimony they saw the absolute
necessity of having me go by way of El
mira, and they changed their tactics ac
cordingly. This is a strange fact, but
nevertheless true, that the Government,
having in its possession this hotel regester,
as well as my dispatch to Booth, and know
ing, moreover, by one of its witnesses, that
I was in Elmira, yet tried to prove that I
was in Washington on the night of Mr.
Lincoln’s death, giving orders and com
manding in general as they were pleased to
say. The gentlemen in Elmira, by whom I
proved my alibi, were men of the highest
standing and integrity, whose testimony
the United States Government could not
and dare not attempt to impeach. I left
Elmira with the intention of going to Bal
timore. I really did not comprehend the
danger I was in at that time. As there
was no train going south that evening I
concluded to go to Canandaigua, and from
there to Baltimore by way of Elmira and
New York.
Upon arriving at Canandaigua on Satur
day evening I learned to my utter dlssap
pointment that no train left until the Mon
day following, so I took a room at the
Webster House, registering myself as
“ JOHN HARRI«ON.”
The next day I went to church. I remem
ber it being Easter Sunday. I can here
safely say that the United States Govern
ment had not the remotest idea that I
stopped anywhere after I left Elmira. They
thought, when I left there, I went straight
through to Canada. It was a very fortu
nate thing for roe that I could not leave
Canandaigua. Now mark, ladies and gen
tlemen, if you please, my name was signed
midway of the hotel register, with six other
parties before and after. There waa no
doubt as to the genuineness of my slgna
tire, because the very experts brought by
the United States to awear to my signatures i
i in other instances, swore aIM that that waa
my handwriting. After all this the regia
: u, mi ruled out by Judge Fisher because
he was well aware If b« admitted limy com
| WM it uu end. I could not be Is two I
at once, though they tried to make
me so.
“ The prisoner might have stepped down
from Canada to Canandaigua daring his
concealment, and signed his name there for
the purpose of protecting himself for the
future.” It was a likely idea that the pro
prietor of a hotel would leave a blank line
in the register for my especial benefit.—
Need I say that the ruling was a most in
f.imous one, and ought to damn the judge
who so ruled as a villian in the minds of
every honest and upright man. [Loud and
prolonged applause] Had Judge Fisher
been one of the lawyers for the prosecution,
he could not have worked harder against
me than he did. But thanks to him, he did
more good than harm. His unprincipled
and vindictive character was too apparent
to every one in the court room. I could
not help smiling at the t me to think of the
great shrewdness and foresight he accorded
me by that decision. At times, really,
during my trial, I could scarcely recognize
any vestige of my former self. Sometimes
I would ask mvself, “Am I the same indi
vidual ? Am I really the same John H.
Surratt ? When that register was produced
in conrt, the Hon. Judge Pierrepont, the
leading counsel for the United States, be
came exceedingly nervous, especially when
Mr. Bradley refused to show it to him, and
he tore up several pieces of paper in his
TREMBLING FINGERS.
He evidently saw what a pitiful case he
had, and bow he had been made the dupe
of his precious, worthy friend, Edwin M.
Staunton. At the time of my trial the
proprietor of the Webster House, in Ca
nandaigua, could not find the cash book of
the hotel, in which there should have been
an entry in favor of “ John Harrison” for
so much cash When he returned to Ca
nandaigua, my trial being then ended, he
wrote Mr. Bradley that he had found the
cash book and sent it to him. It was then
too late. My trial was over. If we had
had thst cash book at the time of my trial,
it wonld have been proved, beyond a doubt,
that I was iu Cananda'gua, and not in
Washington city.
On Monday, when I was leaving Canan
daigua, I bought some New York papers.
In looking over them, my eye lit on the fol
lowing paragraph, which I have never
forgot, and don’t think lever will. It runs
thus : “ The assassin of Secretary Seward
i3 said to be John 11. Surrait, a notorious
secessionist of Southern Maryland. His
name, with that of J. Wilkes Booth, will
forever lead the infamous roll of assassins.”
I could scarcely believe my senses. I gazed
upon my name, the letters of which seemed
'Sometimes to grow as large as mountains,
and then to dwindle away to nothing. So
much for my former connection with him,
I thought. After fully realizing the state
of the case, I concluded to change my
course, and
GO DIRECT TO CANADA.
l<vt Canandaigua on Monday at 12, ra.,
going to Albany, arriving there on Tuesday
morning in time for breakfast. When I
stepped on the platform at the depot at Bt.
Albans, I noticed that one of the detectives
scanned every one, head and foot, myself
as well as the rest. Before leaving Mon
treal for Elmira, I provided myself with
AN OXFORD CUT JACKET
and a round top hat, peculiar to Canada at
that time. 1 knew my trip to Elmira
would be a dangerous one, and I wished to
pass myself off aa a Canadian, and I suc
ceeded In so doing, as was proved by my
witnesses in Elmira. I believe that cos
tume guarded me safely through Bt.
Albans. I went In with others, and moved
around, with the detectives standing there
most of the time looking at us. Os course
I was obliged to talk as loud as anybody
about the late tragedy. After having a
hearty meal I lighted a cigar and walked
up town. One of the detective.l approached
me, stared me directly in the face, and I
looked him quietly back. In a few mo
ments I was speeding on my way to Mon
treal, where I arrived at 2 o’clock In the
afternoon, going again to the Bt. Lawrence
Hotel. Boon after I called on a friend, to
whom I explained my former connection
with Booth, and told him I wa9 afraid the
United States Government would suspect
me of complicity in the plot of assassina
tion. He advised me to
MAKE MYBELF SCARCE.
I immediately went to the hotel, got my
things and repaired to the room of a friend.
When my friend’s tea time came I would
not go to the table with him, but remained
in the room. The ladles wanted to know
why he didn’t bring his friend to tea with
him. He replied that I didn’t want any.
One of the ladles remarked, “ I expect you
have got Booth in there.” [Laughter.]
“Perhaps so,” he answered, laughingly.
That was rather close guessing. [Laugh
ter J At nightfall I went to the house of
one who afterwards proved to be a most
devoted friend. There I remained until
the evening of the next day, when I was
driven out in a cariiage with two gentle
men, strangers to me. One day I walked
out and I saw
WEICnMAN ON THE LOOKOUT FOR ME.
lie had little Idea I was so near. One
night, about 11 o’clock, my friend, In
whose house I was, came to me and said,
in a smiling way, “The detectives have of
fered me $30,000 If I will tell them where
you are.” “Very well,” said I; •< give me
one-half, and let them know.” They sus
pected this gentleman of protecting me,
and they had really made him the offer.
One day, about 12 o’clock, I was told that
they were going to search the house, and
that I must leave immediately, which I
did. They searched it before morning.
This gentleman was a poor man, with a
large family, and yet money could not buy
him. [ Applause.j I remained with this
gentleman until I left Montreal, within a
week or so afterwards. The detectives
were now hunting me very closely, and
would doubtless have succeeded In captur
ing me had it not been for a blunder on
the part of
MY FRIEND WIBCHMAN.
He had, It appears, started the detectives
on the wrong track, by telling them that I
had left the house or Mr. Porterfield In
company with some others, and waa going
north of Montreal Boon that section was
swarming with detectives. I waa not with
that party, hot about the same time I, too,
left Montreal in a hack, going tome eight
or nine miles down the Bt. Lawrence river,
crosalng that stream in a small canoe. I
waa attired a* a huntsman. At 8 o’clock
Wednesday morning wa arrived at our
destination, a small town lying south of
Montreal. Wa entered the village vary
quietly, hoping no one would see us.
It has been asserted over and over again,
and for the purpose of damning me m the
estimation of every honest man, that I
DESERTED HER WHO GAVE ME BIRTH
in the direst hour of her need. Truly
would I have merited the execration of
every man had such been the case. But
such was not the case. When I left Mon
treal there was no cause for uneasiness on
my part, and upon my arrival in the coun
try I wrote to my friends in Montreal to
keep me posted in regard to the approach
ing trial, and to send me the newspapers
regularly. I received letters from them
frequently, in all of which they assured
me there was no cause of anxiety; that it
was only a matter of time, and it would
all be well. After a while papers did not
come so regularly, and those that did spoke
very encouragingly. A little while after
wards, when they came,
SENTENCES WERE MUTILATED WITH INK
AND PAPER.
I protested against such actions, and for
some time I received no papers at all. I
became very uneasy, and wrote for publica
tion an article signed by myself, which I
sent to Montreal to be forwarded for pub
lication in the New York World. It is need
less to say that it never went. Things con
tinued in this way for some time, until I
could stand the suspense no longer. I de
termined to send a messenger to Washing
ton for that purpose, and secured the ser
vices of an intelligent and educated gen
tleman. I started him off Immediately, I
paying all expenses. I gave him a letter
to a friend of mine in Washington, with
instructions to say to him to pat himself In
communication with the counsel for the de
fense, and to make a correct report to me
as to how the case stood; if there was
any danger; and also to communicate to
me if my presence was necessary, and in
form me without delay; with an urgent
request that he would see and inquire for
himself how matters stood.
He left me, and God alone knows the
suspense and anxiety of my mind during
h’s absence. I imagined and thought of
all kinds of things; yet I was powerless
to set. At last he returned, and so bright
and cheerful was countenance that I con
fess one-half of my fears were dispelled.—
He represented
EVERYTHING AS PROGRESSING WELL,
and brought me this message from the gen
tleman in Washington to whom I had sent:
“ Be under no apprehension as to any
serious consequences. Remain perfectly
quiet, as any action on your part would
only tend to make matters worse. If you
can be of any service to us we will let you
know, but keep quiet.”
Just on the eve of my departure to join a
party of gentlemen on a hunting excursion,
while I was waiting at the hotel for the
train, the proprietor handed me a paper,
saying:
“ RftikD THAT ABOUT THE CONSPIRATORS.”
Little did the man know who I was, or
how closely that paragraph bore upon me
or mine. That paper informed me that on
a day which was then present, and at an
hour which had then come and gone, the
most hellish of deeds was to be enacted.
It had been determined npon and carried
out even before I bad intimation that there
was any danger. It wonld be folly for me
to attempt to describe my feelings. After
gazing at the paper for some time I dropped
It on tbe floor, turning on my heel, and
going directly to the honse where I had
been stopping before. When I entered the
room I found my friend sitting there. As
soon as he saw me,
HE TURNED DEADLY PALE,
but never uttered a word. I said, “ You
doubtless thought you were acting a
friend—the part of a friend—toward me,
but you have deceived me. I may forgive
you, bnt I can never forget It.”
“ We all thought It for the best, Char
ley,” he commenced to say, but I did not
stay to hear more. I went to my room, re
mained thereuntil dark, and then signified
my intention to leave the place immediate
ly. I felt, reckless as to what should be
come of me.
After visiting Quebec and other places,
with the reward of $35,000 hanging over
my head, I did not think it safe to remain
there, and so I concluded to seek an asylum
in foreign lands. I had nothing now to
bind me to this country save an only sister,
and I knew she would never want for kind
friends or a good home. Por myself, it
mattered little where I went, so that I
could roam once more a free man. I then
went on a venture ; and now, ladies and
gentlemen, I go forth again on a venture.
Gladly would I have remained hidden
among the multitude, but the stern neces
sities arising from the blasting of my
earthly prospects have forced me to leave
my solitude and to stand again before the
nubile gaze as the historian of my -own
life. One mitigation to its distastefulness
in this and my first attempt, however, Is
the kindness with which I have been re
ceived, and the patience with which I have
been listened to, for which I retorn you,
ladles and gentlemen, my sincere and
heartfelt thanks. [Applause.]
Waltzing is, no donbt, to those partici
pating, a delicious excitement, but to the
looker-on, who sees the arm of a rival em]
bracing the girl he adores, the sensation Is
not very comfortable. Henry Englefield
has thus expressed the latter’s feelings:
‘J* h * t !. th ®K lrl 1 * dor * by another embraced I
What! the balm of her breath shall another
man Wate 1
J ln T hlrl b * »“°tber’s knee!
What! panting reclined on another than me!
Sir! abe’s yours. You have brnabed from the
grape its soft bine;
From the rosebud von've shaken the tremnlous
flew;
What you’re touched you may take. Pretty
waltzer, adieu I” J
Thb Whereabouts of Lemuel Gul
liver.—The Boston Advertiser, under the
head of “Private Bales,” contains the fol
lowing Important announcement:
“ Lemuel Gulliver haa sold to William
Murry a 2% atory houae on the corner of
iiom* ,treet *’ Charlestown, for
This settles the long-disputed question ss
to what became of this dlstingulaned travel
er after bis philosophic researches In the
island of Lsputu. lie Is living In Boston,
and doubtless studying the curious habits
of the modern Athenians.— llUhmond Whig,
J. E. .Consul has sold out his InUrast as
contractor for the. Brunswick and Albany
Railroad to U.TlJiKfi, 7 1
VOL. 29. NO. 51
Inside View of a Boston Bakery.
A reporter of the Commercial Bulletin,
animated by a desire to earn his bread by
penetrating the mysteries of a bakery, se
lected one of the dirtiest in the city, and
made application for work on a recent Sat
urday night. He relates his experience as
follows:
I had given the baker to understand that
I was from New York, and so I dodged the
certain disclosure Saturday night would
have made, that I was a greenhorn, as in
that city no Saturday night work is done,
and beans and brown bread are only a
Boston institution; so when I went into
the shop at 5 o’clock, p. m., though the
other hands were averse to taking on a
non-union man, 1 was not slow in inform
ing them I’d look up the union here at its
next meeting. My first duty was being
sent into the shop to help clean up the
shelves and boxes of broken and stale bread
and cake, which, when all was collected—
and much of It was worse than stale—was
taken into the bakery and emptied into a
trough; then a nasty old pail that I took
to be a slop bucket, but which, in reality,
turned out to be a measure for yeast, was
filled once or twice with water and emptied
into this mixture of bread, ernsts and cake
fragments, and I was directed to “ take the
shovel,” then standing in an ash heap near
the oven door, and “ chop and stir” this
mess ipto a thin grnel.
“ Be quick about it, too, and not spend
so much time in polishing np that shovel
blade.”
From this, In my innocence, I was re
moving the ashes and dust, not reflecting
that “ them ashes don’t hurt nothin’.”
This task accomplished, and the necessa
ry amount of meal added, gave the gruel
a brown bread value. The deep bins for
putting this thickened liquid into for
baking, were produced, and all hands of us
busy painting the insides of them with
little brushes dipped In slash that would
have hardly stood the test as fairly valua
ble for soap grease. This task done, we
went to supper, one man, however, being
left to receive numbers and give tickets for
the pots of beans that were brought in by
customers t® be baked in the baker’s oven.
THE BAKED BEANS SWINDLE.
Returning from supper, I found but a
portion of the hands held for duty all night,
so the work of filling up the brown bread
pans was immediately begun and duly ac
complished. At about half-past nine all
the beans from outsiders having been
brought in, the covers were put upon the
trough and four very large sheet-iron flats
were laid together on these, and each bean
pot emptied of its beans, the pork therein
being replaced, for the boss told me “be *
carefnH© get each piece of pork Into the
right pot. Every woman knows her piece
of work as quick as lightning.” All the
pots being emptied, nearly, If not more than
two hundred. I was told to “be lively and
help bring in the snap stones from the
kitchen.” Thither we went, returning
with the family bailer, none the cleanest,
brimming foil of parboiled beans, evidently
the very refuse of the market. After strain
ing the water off, these were poured npon
the customers’ beans and the whole
thoroughly mixed. Then each pot was re
filled, tbe pork nicely set in, and the balance
•cooped into several very large pots, hold
ing about a gallon each, belonging to the
baker. These were to be sold by the quart,
though we did fill some small pots to be
sold. Tbns was his refuse, uneatable stock
made good by tbe large percentage of good
beans gained by defrandlng those who had
sent in their bean pots to be baked for their
Sunday dinner. * * # •
THE REFORTER PUTS HIS FOOT IN IT.
"Here, you New York Dutch kreutzer,
get out of them mud scows and knead.”
“ I can knead as well with my shoes on,”
®ald I, rolling up my shirt sleeves.
Waal that; roll up your leggins and
I noticed one of my not overclean fellow
workmen had “ Jumped ln,” and standing
ln the bread trough, was vigorously tread
ing the dough with his bare feet. Sup
pressing an ominous roll of the stomach I
managed to say :—
“ What, take off my shoes and wade in
the dough ?”
“In course, my love; kick off yer skufls
and go at It.” '
“ But where shall I wash my feet f”
“Here, take a dry rub If you’re so blasted
particular,’ tossing me a towel, “and be
lively.”
Os course I obeyed the mandate. I
noticed my fellow-workmen, however, were
not “ particular.” even for a “ dry rub,” but
my mental reservations and maledictions
at that time will be now understood by the
boss, when he reads what the Bulletin known
about bis bread-making. I certainly made
up my mind that I should have to be hun
gry indeed to eat the bread from that
bakery. ~ *
As 1 remarked, this shop had the reputs
tion for the reign supreme of dirt sod dlrtv
— ww)/>viuv v/4 uii b auu UlibY
work, and although there are but few that
knead with their feet, there are those living
who well remember a cracker baker years
ago, doing business not far from Port Hill,
who employed a six-foot darkey to walk
up and down in the bread trongh. These
facts I give that the public may know what
is done in the most desperate cases, and to
induce greater cleanliness, not only among
employees, but among employers.
Mince Pies.— The following receipt fbr
mince pies, which are now in season, la
confidently recommended by a writer In the
Germantown Telegraph, after using It for
many years:
801 l a fresh beef tongue tender, let It
get cool, then chop It flue with one pound
of suet, one half peck of apples, two pounds
of citron spliced, half an ounce each of
powdered cloves, allspice, cinnamon and
ginger, three plots of sweet cider, one pint
of Madeira wine, half a pint of brandy,
with enough sugar to sweeten to your
taste. This will make a large Jar /oil.
At Cranberry, N. J., a negro named Nix
on la not thought so much of aa an orus
msnt to society since ha killed a man
named Pullen. The Insane JsrseylUs talk
of lynchlug the poor, itown-troddiii Afirl*
can. Noelety Is In a (earful state when
people talk of dulag each a thing for a ilttia
pleasantry oa frfrfrilVl'AKyl