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NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP.
“Now I lay rue down to sleep,”
Lisped my boy, his evening prayer.
And the blue eyes soft ;i:id tender
Glistened bright, thro’ tangled i.alr.
“Mamma, does God hear me asU him
To be goftd to yon ? 1 fear
He don't see us. tho’ yon tell me
He is always liov’r gi i,ir
“Does he know how hard I struggled.
Tho' I got my j>. pars late.
Little boys, you know, can’t hurry.
But for larger oues must wait.
“Tried so.hard to tell them, mamma,
'Cause l wanted to help you.
And some meti would frown so at me,
Tho' my papers were all new.
“When I held them up in passing.
And cried ‘Papers: buy one. pleaseP
*No, you Prjjnp, shut up your st(nailing;
Give a man some rest and case.’ '*
And the precious eyes closed softly
O'er the trials of the day;||& ,
Angeis guard his peaceful slumbers
TOl the morrow’s dawning ray
O! from these dear patient children
Who would earn their daily bread.
Turn ye not, but list their pleading.
Let a tender word be said.
Smile upon them, cheer and bless them.
Our dear Saviour loves them. too.
And from ids own image inode them.
Just as he did ail of you.
Tho' your path be strewn with flowery
Your heart filled with pleasure bright,
O! forget not those less favored.
Who must earn their bread to-night,
TIIE OLD CLO' HAN.
“Oh, such pretty vases, mamma!” said
Fanny, nearly throwing herself out of tho
Window, in her eagerness to look after an old
clothes man, who with his bag upon his
chonlder, and his basket of brittle ware upon
his arm, was just that moment passing the
door. “Such pretty, pretty vasesl Do lot
me have one, mammal’’
Now, l never, on any account, encourage
one of those people. 1 have hitherto made it
a positive rule never to allow one of them to
cross my threshold. Yet, somehow, Fanny’s
eyes—they are just like Psalter’s—looked so
coaxingly into mine that, before 1 had taken
a moment to consider about it, 1 opened the
door; and the minute 1 did so, of course, the
dd clothes man came straight up the stairs,
with his “Old clol old sboenl Eny tings to
change dis morning, laty f”
Aa I bad opened the door, I thought it
could do no harm to humor Fanny, just tor
once, you know; so, telling the man to wait
a moment, and bidding Funny, in a whisper,
sot to leave the hall until I came back (for I
was afraid the man ipight meddle with some
thing while 1 was gone), 1 ran up stairs and
was soon engaged in inspecting the contents
of a musty old wardrobe in the luml»er room.
There was an old office coat of Psalter’s terri
bly out at elliows; an old vest of brother
John’s, totally destitute of pockets; a little
frock of Fanny’s, which she had outgrown a
year before; and a broche shawl of my own,
which had been spotted with rain, and which
I h«d placed in the wardrobe in a St of im
patience, pretending to myself that it was
Utterly ruined.
It was the only thing of any value there,
and, in fact, it was so good that 1 hesitated
about producing it on the present occasiou. 1
turned it about and looked at it over and
over again. The center was the only part
which was stained. 1 could rip the border
off and have it dyed, and my shawl would be
as good as new again. But then it was so
much trouble, and I had a very pretty shawl
and a cloak and beaded wrap besides. So I
did feel afraid that it would be wrong to dis
pose of it for next to nothing.
While I was deliberating on the subject, I
beard some one beside me say, '‘Why don’t
you come, mammaf” an 1 there, if you’ll be
lieve me, stood that disobedient child, not
withstanding I had told her not to leave the
-ball on any account. There she was, and the
old clothes man was alone down stairs. I
declare I bod half a mind to shake her welL
I ran down stairs immediately. There
stood the peddler just where 1 had left him,
rubbing his bands one over the other, and
looking so steadfastly at nothing that he
really seemed to have a cast in one of his
eyes and a squint in the other. Ughl what a
villainous looking face he had—it absolutely
made me shudder. Ho lifted the coat from
tfee choir upon which 1 bod laid it, and held
it at arm’s length with a supercilious air.
“Ahl” he said, “datisgoot for nothings,
iaty Dat ish not goat for rags. I got very
pretty tings in my basket. Laty, any old
do’s, old shoes—anyting else, laty? Little
laty. want pretty tings out nv my basket?”
“Here’s a frock,” said Fanny, “and a vest
of Uncle John’s, and a shawl of ma’s.”
“Ah I” grunted the man. “Tho frock is no
goot—not worth nothings. Tho vest was no
use mit me. The shawl was leetle petter,
.laty. Vot you vant for himi”
“I want a pretty vase,” said Fanny.
“Ahl leetle laty,” said the peddler, *T
makes no monish mit you—yon too hard on
- me. Veil, veil, I takes do clo’s. Dey ish
worth nothing, most nothing, laty, and I
give you dis vase. I make myself poor bar
gain, leetle laty. Ughl 1 make no monish
mit your’ and with innumerable jerks and
moves and gesticulations bo thrust a little
vasp, with a very gaudy pattern printed on
the front, int~ *lio child’s hand and began to
gather up the articles from the floor where
be had dropped them.
Just then I happened to glance through the
window, and saw to my chagrin two of my
most fashionable acquaintances coming up
the street; anrl really, for tho moment, I
would not havo cared how much the man had
cheated me, so that 1 got him out of the
bouse before they camo up. Ho did go at
last, although bo came back after they wero
in the hall to say:
“Nest time you has petter tings, laty; then
wc make petter bargains. I mako no monish
mit you this day, laty. Good-by. 1 come
next week—den you hash petter tings.”
At which speech Sirs. Japonica rolled up
her eyes and asked mo what the man meant;
and Miss Cornelia Japonica “wondered I
didn’t move nearer Fifth avenuo, where 1
would not bo subject to tho intrusions of such
people.”
The Japonicas stood a good whilo and talk
ed away about all manner of fashionable
nothings—tho last concert-and the lust party
at Mrs. Highflyer’s—how sweetly Screecbo-
L : ni sang, and how elegantly Miss Wilkins
was dressed the other day. Bv the time they
went Clara and Rosa and Dick were homo
from school, and Fanny was crying for lunch.
So my time was pretty well occupied for an
hour or more, and 1 forgot all about the old
peddler until Rosa began to fidget about tho
room and rummage my work box and desk
for something she had lost.
• “What are you looking for, Rosaf” 1 said,
rather impatiently, ns slio overset a box of
cotton. “I wish you would be more carefu
“It’s all Fanny’s fault, mu. I told, l
to touch it till 1 casao home,”, answered Rosa.
“I don’t care,” said Fanny; “it-was mine,
too.”
“It was more mine,” said Rosa, “beenuso
Pm the biggest— warn’t it, mi!"
“What are you speaking of?” 1 inquired.
•What was more yours!”
j. “Why, tho money pa gave us to play store
the doer. I’ll go and look there.”
She went, but of cours-o didn’t find it. I do
declare I had to laugh when I thought how
disappoint--il the old peddler would feel when
he found oik that tho bill was worthless. I
quite enjoyed it.
My merriment was shortened, however, for
: not fifteen minutes after 1 discovered that a
new vest of Psalter’s, which he bail only
1 broc-’b* homo the day before, and which I
* work basket until I should
find time to se. the buckle at the back a little
i fa. i uer forward, was missing.
I searched everywhere, but the vest was
j nowhere in tho house. Such a beautiful
I thing as it was, too, and Psalter had given
j more for it than I had ever known hits to
give for a vest before, because he admired it
so—to think that it should be lost through
my own foolish carelessness, for of course I
knew that old peddler had it! I never felt
so distressed in all my life about such a thing.
I would far rather have lost my own velvet
bonnet, or even my best dress. I would
willingly have had my hair cut short off all
the way round, like a boy’s, to have had it.
back again, and I’m sure I couldn’t say more
than that.
Glad as I always am to hear Psalter’s step
upon the sidewalk, I “almost dreaded to hear
it that uigbt, for I should have'to tell him all
about it; and though I knew he wouldn’t
scold, yet, dear me! 1 did feel so ashamed of
my stupidity.
The first thing Fanny did when she beard
her father getting his latchkey into the key
hole was to run, with her vase in her hand,
down to the entry to show her bargain to
•him, and, tripping over the rug, down she
came just as he opened the door, smashing
the china and cutting her poor little lip ter
ribly. There was an end of the vase, and he£
lamentations over her broken toy and cut lip
were deafening, and while trying to soothe
her I forgot all about the peddler and vest
both for a little time. Peace was restored,
- and I was just filling the teapot when Brother
John arrived, looking exceedingly compla
cent, and carrying a parcel under his arm,
which he laid upon the sofa.
“What is in that paper. Uncle John?” said
Fanny, inquisitive as usual, trying to untie
the cord which fastened the package.
“That is my new vest, Fan,” said John,
untying the string himself.
- At the word “vest,” my heart sank like a
lamp of lead.
“Oh, dear!” I thought, “the time is com
ing. I must tell now, very soon."
“It is just like yours, Psalter," said John.
“You know how I admired that. Well, by a
rare piece of good fortune, an old fellow of
fered me just such a one this morning, and I
bought it. I don’t believe you could tell the
two apart.” ' ■
\nd ho held up a vest so like Psalter’s that
it seemed absolutely the same.
“The old fellow had a lovely shawl, which
he said was a wonderful bargain—only $51
It is just the color of -the one you were so
partial to, that was stained, or spotted,- or
something, so 1 thought I’d bring it up to
you." V
He held it toward me; but when I took it
in my hand, good gracious! it was—no, it
couldn’t be-ryes, it absolutely was the very
shawl I bad given to the old peddler man for
Fanny’s vase. The spots were taken out and
it had been brushed and ironed, but it was
the very same.
John did not notice my agitation, but
went on: '
“I think my vest came to less than yours
did. Psalter. Let me see. I gave him a $10
note and ho gave me this in change. I hope
it is good."
And John drew from his pocket a note
marked with red ink on the back.
“-Why, Uncle John," cried Rosa, tho mo
ment her eyes fell upon the bill, “where did
you find my money f’
“Your money, child?" cried John, aston
ished. “Your money!"
“Yes, uncle—my bad money that pa gave
me to play with. Don’t yon see the red let
ters on the back—bad—that pa put there P’
John turned the note over on the other
side.
“The child is right,” he said. “"What does
all this meant”
While he was looking at the note with all
his might I reached over and picked up tho
vest, turned it on the wrong side, and there,
sure enough,'wero Psalter’s initials, written
in indelible ink by my own hands that very
morning.
“Of whom did you buy these things, John!”
I asked.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” said John. “An
olu man who' said ho kept a large clothing
store, but being in poor circumstances was
obliged to peddle off the remainder of his
stock himself.’’
“Had h6 a nose like our parrot’s beak and
eyebrows that went up so?” said Fahny, mak
ing two little right angles with her fore fin
gers over her eyes; “because if ho had, it’s our
old clothes man, and ho got that bill off the
hall table.”
“Why—what—I can’t mako this out,” said
John, completely bewildered. “What do
you mean by ‘our old clothes man,’ Fanny?”
“Why, a man came td the door with pretty
things in a basket,” said Fanny, “and rna
gave him a shawl and an old coat for my
pretty vase that I broke just now; and after
he had gone we found that he had stolen pa’s
vest and my bad money, uncle.”
“Yes, John," I put in, “and he must have
gone straight down town after he left me and
sold the articles to you, for that is the only
way in which 1 can account for tho fact of
your having brought them up again just as ”
had made up my mind that I had bidden
good-by to them forever.”
John’s astonishment beggared description.
He stood open mouthed, rumpling his hair
with both hands, for more than ten minutes:
and. then—but no matter what he said. Suf
fice it to say that such invectives of ven
geance on the whole race of old clothes spec
ulators were never before uttered, and that
those hurled on the bead of tho particular
one in question amounted to anathemas.
Every talo should have a moral, and re
member well tho ono affixed to this, all ya
housekeepers: “Never deal with old clo’ men,
for one peddler is a match for five ordinary
females.”—Mary Kyle Dallas.
DAME FASHION.
OW
e t ng Cfir-tsWith an Artistic Tailor
and a College Avenue Modiste.—Someof
the LatestStylesfor Summer.
.•again in men *
i will find out si
iii*> dress';“■> kt-:
An Important Summons.
Valet (ringing up the doctor at 11:30 p. m.)
—Councilor M sends his compliments
and desires you to come to him at onco.
Doctor (en dishabille) — Good gracious 1
What is the matter with him?
Valet—He wants a fourth hand for a rub
ber of wList.—Humoristischo Blaetter.
Visitor—That en gine acts very queer ly t it
seems to no.
Engineer—Quito likely, sir. It Las an ec
centric rctL—Harpcc's Bazar.
with,” said Rosa. “The bank bill, you know,
ma."
Psalter had received a bad $5 bill some time
before, and, after marking it with red ink,
had kept it in his pocket book until a few days
before, when be gave it to the children as a
rot i Plnything. I had seen it in Fanny's hand
I that very morning, just before the clothes
man passed the window, and the moment I
remembered that 1 guessed where the note
had vanished.
“Did you have it when you saw your little
vase in the man’s basket, Fanny!” I said.
“Ot yes, ma:” said Fanny. “I recollect
nowI jjut it on the hall table when I opened
■
“Darn
tlii
i-liion.-.” remarked the proprietor
of one of Athens’ most fashionable tail
oring establishments yesterday to a
Banner man who had casually drop
ped in.
‘And \vl17?” asked the reporter with
the usual innocence of his tribe.
“Because the fashions are a tickle as
the women, and are. constantly chang
ing,” said the good humored tailor with
a hearty laugh.
“Well, what are the latest styles in
gentlemen’s fashions for this season?”
asked the reporter.
“Oh. well they are, of course, varied.
In the line of dress goods the patterns
most worn by fashionable gentlemen
now-a-days, is dark diagonal for coat
and vest, and stripes or plaids for trou
sers. The three button cutaway sack
coat is steadily growing in favor. It is
a very handsome garment. \
For business suits the plaited blouse
with yoke, seems ,to have superseded
the usual sack coat,and the most stylish
business men everywhere are wearing
it. For trousers stripes are still popu
lar. Plaids for business suits are much
worn in sack and cutaway suits, and
are seen on tbe legs of our best dressed
men.”
Well, what about the negligee shirts
that have been so popular?” we asked.
“The flannel shirts increase in favor
every day,” he said, “as a street -cos
tume,-and I don't know of a prettier or
more comfortable one. The shirts are
striped with large colored stripes and
are ornameted witll a flashy Windsor
scarf, tied around the throat, and a col
ored blazer or belt around the waist.
These blazers are quite pretty in theii
styles of China silks. I don’t know
why the young men of Athens haven’t
caught onto them,’hut somehow they
don’t seem to have done so.”
Well, have the big pants undergone
any change ?”
No, trousers do not seem inclined to
either increase' or diminish in size.
They are very popular just as they are
and will probably retain their present
proportions for sometime.”
“And what is the latest in hats?”
“Well, straws are the favorites. They
are mostly worn /flat sailor-like with
straight rim and black and white bands
around them. The stiffs or summer
derbys are this - uipmer, bell-shaped
and are drab colored. The favorite tint
being gray’sli blue.”
“And serais, what’s the latest get up
in them?”
Well, if I were a rainbow adorned
with the harmonious bleuding of all the
colors, I would blush with shame to see
Jtie beautiful ties worn this summer.
They are variegated of every hue, and
are gay, flashy or modest.”
Well, what kind of patrons in Ath
ens, have you? Are there any extrav
agant dressers among the young men
here?”
“No,there is not a dude in town. But
there are lots of well dressed young men
here who are as tasty in their fashions
as anybody. They are not extravagant
but they are neat and stylish. I am
glad this is so, for the ultra-fashionable
class are'the most troublesome on earth
They are the most relentless creatures
under the sun, and if a single stitch
goes wrong, the suit is to be cut over to
please their fancies. Oh no, Athens has
no such as tliese
Tiie college boys are good patrons
T hey all dress well and are always neat
and trim. They are good advertisers
too, for they become most anything
they wear,and anything becomes them.’
We next called on a fashionable
dressmaker on C’ollegeJ'avenrie and in
quired about the ladies’ style.
“What are the ladies wearing tins
summer?” was our first question, and
judging from the look of utter conster
nation that came ovei\£her face, we
knew that she was perplexed.
“Well, it would take me all the sum
mer to answer your question,” she fin
ally murmured absent[mindedly, “and
by that time they would he wearin
something entirely different. To speak
briefly and generally, however, that the
ladies are prettier gin this summer’
styles, than in any tjjhave ever seen
The bustle has been reluctantly given
up, but most of the girls still wear steel
in fheir skirts. The aecordian or pleat
ed dress is very fashionable and take;
the place of the extended skirts ver
appropriately. ;
“Some of the richest and mostbeeom
ing toilets are of rich white faille frail-
caise, with a long train, narrow skir
and short puffed sleeves. This costume
may he trimmed with hand of silver
embroidery ir.,a design of thistles.”
“Then there are many other similar
gowns of different- shades of silk.
“A new style of riding luibit^has been
lately designed by the fashion papers
which is fast becoming a favorite one.
The material is a steel grey, worsted.
The back is -of good length, with the
r tastiness*
agauee.
• - mohr- for tin
Fashion; how appropriately rut for extr;
is feminine epithet applied to. the up with the styles b-.it
ions ” remarked the nronrietor of them. They consult e
. i
fashion,iiiit j
They are always !
never ahead of j
omfort and grace
more than a gorgeous display of finery,
and that’s the way to do.”
We thought so too, and left the es
tablishment upon the entrance of sever
al young ladies, who blushed when
they saw us within the sacked precincts
of their frequent haunts.
,I:
BOY BANK THIEVES.
HOUSEKEEPER.
*
Flow can I tel! her?
Dy U-r t .-R-ir;
lelvesand whitened wa!L
I can guess L-;r
By tier dresser;
the back staircase and halt
And with pleasure
Take tier measure
sae Keeps her brooms.
Or ihe peeping
At tbe beeping
ack cud unseen rooms.
Cy hr r kitchen’s air of neatness.
And its general completeness.
Where in cleanliness and sweetness
Tho rose of order blooms.
—Jewish Mess-
Of fit
A FALSE ALIBI.
ATTEMPT TO RO& TEE GAINES
VILLE SANK.
But'Their Courage Failed Them—Four
Lads, Armed and Disguised,Make *
Up Their Minds to Havo the
Funds—Tho Plot and
t How It Worked, Etc.
Specia’to The Banner.
Gainesville, Ga., July 18.—There
was an attempt here last night to rol)
the State hank. t
Willie Blaekshear, Will Lowery,
Charlie McDonald and Holmes Harris
concocted a scheme a few days since to
coop,the funds. ol‘ the State Banking
Company.
At one o’clock last night Blaekshear
called at the residence of W. . D. Wil
liams, the cashier, and stated that the
doors of the bank were open.
THEY SKIPPED.
Mr. Williams hesitated but finally
concluded to go to his brother’s house,
A. G. Williams, echo is the bookkeeper,
when the two repaired to the hank.
The delay of Blaekshear excited sus
picion, and when the cashier and book
keeper arrived at the bank all* but
Blaekshear fled and made good their es
cape.
Blaekshear is in custody, and Deputy
Sheriff T. X. llanie is on the ’lookout
for the others.
ANOTHER ACCOUNT.
A most daring attempt was nyule
last night to rob the State bank at
Gainesville.
Four youths,
Will Lowery,
Joland and
all under the
age
lines, a?
; usn
al, and t
lie sho
ulders are of
natural
widu
th.gj.The
Kill i
; :ibout ,
inches <
leep,
and is
forme*
1 exactly as
for a fr<
ui tie
man’s [n
loriiin
g eoa't. The
buttons
are
nmneroi
is and
run within
five inc
lies c
>f the h
ottom.
~ The edges
are >t it»
•lied
am! tiie
sleeves
: are furnish-
oil with
eufl
is. The
vest
is of white
marseil
or liner
1, Opel
as somewhat
lower tl
hull t
he habit.
. and i
s about one
inch -li
orter
The 8
kirt
is of the
same material and
Will. Blaekshear,
' Charles ■ Me-
Homer Harris,
of twenty, enter
ed into a plot to blacken their faces and
proceed to the back door of the hank.
Then it was arranged, they" would
send for the cashier, Mr. W. S. Wil
liams, and force him at the muzzle of
their revolvers to deliver tip the funds
in the bank.
THE SCHEME GIVEN A WAY.
For some reifeo rnwBl aekshea r gave the
scheme away to the chief of police, aii^l
last night Chief Hanie stationed him
self in the. bank.
At the expected hour the boys came
creeping up to the rear of the .bank
with their faces blackened and other
wise disguised so as to be unrecogniz
able, and hid behind the building away
from thejight of the electric lamp.
ALL IN JAIL.
They then sent a boy after Mr. Wil
liams, but before he arrived tliey be
came frightened and ran.away.
They have all been captured this
morning and are now awaiting a
preliminary trial for attempted robbe
ry- ~
AN OLD SUIT SETTLED AT LAST.
A Kentucky Lawsuit that Begun in JL811.
Lexington, Ky., July IS.—The term
of the circuit court of this county,
which has just closed, closed one of tliq
oldest suits pending in Kentucky and
one of. more .than ordinary intercut,
which lias been in the courts since 1811.
It is known as that of Wieklifl'e’s execu
tors vs. Breekenridge’s heirs. The case
has been to the court of appeals several
times, and at Jast, after costing in the
neighborhood"©!' a million of dollars, it
has been decided in favor of the heirs of
John Breekenridge.
The suit Was originally based upon an
alleged contract made between John Lee
on the one part and John Breekenridge
anti George Nicholas on the other part,
dated Aug. 15, 1795, where Lee sold to
Nicholas and Breekenridge one half of
a tract of land in Clark county, Ky.,
containing over 9,000 a«res for the Sum
of $50 per 100 acres. Henry Clay was
coucerneg in-the case originally.
The original claim out of which this
case arose amounted to only about $5,-
000, but the amount of land involved,
the present value on account of the rich
iron deposits, and the natural tendency
of litigants to fight as long as possible,
have combined to keep this case on the
docket these many years. The record is
very voluminous, and many of the pa
pers in the case are rare curiosities, da
ting back to the foundation of the Com-
monweatb. -
FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED. -
Sabe Mattox Missing—Fears that He has
been Murdered:.
Special to,The Banner.
Wasiisngton, Ga., July 18.—A negro
who lives on Sirs. Sallfe Thomas’-plaee
in Elbert county, named Sabe Mattox,
J has been missing ever since la-r
nesday, and it is feared that he has
j foully dealt with.
Mrs. Thomas’ house was broken
lately and as Sabe was interesting
i self J n ferreting out ihe robbery
, thought that for this reason the robin
made way with him.
I His little money and other effect-; :
i are in his house, and there is notlii
I to indicate that he has run off.
Wed
into
lim
it is
her-
The man who sits down to deliberately plan
a crime works every point and detail to one
common center—an alibi The law has com
mon sense enough in this one particular to
presume that a man who is in Boston, for in
stance, when a murder is committed in Cin
cinnati could not have fired the shot or struck
the blow. Therefore, let one accused of crime
prove to the jury that he was at some other
point at a certain critical hour, and he must
be declared innocent. This knowledge makes:
the alibi a favorite defense. If not clearly
proved it always raises doubts and affords
opportunity for argument. On the other
hand, however, when an alibi is fairly beaten
by the prosecution, then circumstantial evi
dence becomes tho death trap of the accused,
and he has no show.
One of the hest laid alibis I ever ran up
against in my career vs a detective, and one
of the easiest to work out after 1 got the end
of the thread {n band, was put forward in a
casein Iowa about twenty years ago. The
situation was this: In a small village in tbe
western part of tho state lived a Miss Clarin-
da Moore, a spinster about 45 years of age.
She was worth §50,000, and sho had adopted
a boy named Byron Fergus. At the date of
which 1 anv writing this boy was no longer a
boy, but a young, man of 28. He was em
ployed as a clerk in a dry goods hbuse, and
boarded and lodged at home. He was adopt
ed at the age of 12, and on the day he reached
his majority Miss Moore made a will leaving
him everything. This fact was known to all
in the village. Fergus, was a model young
man. No one could point out a singlo bad
habit. He was tr-isted and respected by all,
and had he been accused of the slightest dis
honesty no one would have believed the
charge. / A .
In a smaller village six miles away Fergus
had an aunt who was a widow and lived
alone, with the exception of having the com
pany of a servant girl. Ho was in the habit
of going over there about onco in two months
and remaining over Sunday. On theso trips
he drove a horse and buggy belonging to the
village cooper. Tho horso had a peculiar
habit, which will bo described later on. One
Saturday evening of a July day Fergus drove
away on ono of these trips. There were two
or three women at the gate in company with
Miss Moofo when he drove away. The only
thing out of the usual.run was the remark
that Byron looked rather pale and seemed a
bit nervous, but probably this would never
have been thought of but for what came to
pass. 7:..' 'L,
At 11 o’clock that night there was a thun
der storm, and an insurance agent who was
on the road between tho two villages, with
horse and buggy, drove into a fence corner
and sheltered himself as well as possible with
the waterproofs . In the midst of the storm
a horse and buggy came along. The
driver was so enveloped' by waterproofs that
tlioageut could not tell whether he was old or
young, large or small, whitoor black. At
that spot the road had been lately graded up,
and was very soft. The. stranger was urging
the horse to trot, but the beast found the mud
too deep and could oqly proceed at a walk. As
tho strange horse came opposite there was a
long, vivid flash of lightning, and the agent
saw that the animal had his head turned to
the right and his tongue out. This was tho
peculiar habit of the cooper’s horse when on
a walk. When trotting ho held up his head
and kept this tonguo bactf. The qgent identi
fied the horse to his perfect satisfaction, and
called out.to the driver, asking who ho was.
Instead of halting or replying the man struck
tho horse sharply with tho ivhip and was out
of sight in a moment.
“That’s old Siiepperd (the cooper) and
he’s afraid I am a highwayman j? laughed
tho agent, and, tho rain now beginning to
cease, ho made ready to resume his journey.
Miss Moore was an early riser, and, more
over, never missed church services. As the
day was fine and she was not seen at church,
two or three of her friends called at the
house on their way to ascertain her excuse.
They found tho curtains down and tho doors
locked. As they knew of young Fergus go
ing to his aunt’s the evening previous, they
reasoned it out that ho must; have returned
during the night for Miss Moore, she perhaps
being wanted for an emergency. This theory
satisfied them until about 4 o’clock in tho af
ternoon, when one of them returned to gather
a bouquet of flowers. Sho .then noticed
bloody finger marks on tho back door, and,
trying the door, found it unlocked. She
dared not enter tho house, but two or three
men were summoned to make an investiga
tion, and in a few minutes it was discovered
that a murder had been committed. The
dead .body of Miss Moore was found in the
sitting room, at the door of her bedroom.
Sho had been struck three tef-riblo blows with
a club or other blunt weapon, each one break
ing the skulL ■
I was visiting the sheriff at this time, and
wo wero driving through the village when
the first alarm was sounded. I was, there
fore, at the house among the' first, and being
placed in charge by the sheriff, I kept tho
people out until I could make an investiga
tion. Tho murderer had not obtained forci
ble entry to tho house. Not a singlo article
of value had been removed, nor had any ran
sacking been done. Tho woman had been
struck down where the body lay, but her
hands were clenched as if sho had grasped
tho weapon of death and it had been pulled
away from her. The palm of one hand was
torn and bleeding. I did not know either the
dead woman or Fergus, bub 1 wanted au
thority to arrest the latter. When this fact
became known I was regarded as an idiot or
a lunatic. A general cry went up that Fergus
could no more bo suspected than an angel in
I heaven, but whilo the sheriff was left to se
cure the necessary papers, I drove out to in-
j terview the young tnati and break tho news
to him. If Fergus 'was guilty, his defense
would be an alibi, and he had carefully ar
ranged the details. He wouid bo expecting
I the news, and he would bo braced up to play j
! a part.
I found him making ready to hitch up to |
i drive back. He had never seen mo before, j
and he did not know niv profession. As I i
entered tho burn he looked startled and j
turned pale, but recovered himself after a
; minute, and asked the nature of my business. 1
“You know, of course, that Miss Moore is 1
; dead?” I carelessly replied. ;
| “How—how should I know it:” he exclaim- j
ed. turning very white. |
: *‘T> ell, she is dead, poor thing.” !
I “And do-they charge me with it?”
i “With what!”
“Her murder?”
‘ . “I hadn't said she was murdered. I told
-•ou -imply Ula
KR0V? s ‘ie hud " ;I
smooth biS**** m
as a t xnnt against : ’ 1
that be should retur^’a ’ Ul ”
tho cooper's rig v i,„ a m >'' - 1
shoc-khebraced m ■-
meaner on Um wj v 7 nderf «% 2
willingness to fn Ve „ Ha
tiou, but at £ *£*5 ■*..
cmng to the theorvn ^
could have been
reaching home hT ^,‘ML
gnef and emotion
d.d.t. It was more ^^
Early the n ext morQ ,
own mind that FemX Sa ^-
drovooutto
rived there at 7 o’clock ^
an hour later he compfe^
went to bed, savinr- h b, intd <4
by 9 o’clock! Tfefe 1
the hired girl knock*
hour, but, receiving no rJZ,
disturb him. He was nXL
of the house until 7 o’cbS W
The girl was up at 5,2 5
yard she saw that hlsT-diA* 1
-neofhisciothing^^;-
At tue barn I found ^
washed clean. Fergus haJ s ; -
forenoon. He hadTot^J ^ '
tho horse, however, and If e '
mud on his fetlocks. AsitJr^
day night when he was driven „' 3
must have been picked
found the harness stiff and d
wet, mtd the cloth cushion
still damp. Hunting furth^ ,
fresh tracks of horse and bu^' v L
the barnyard after the raiaThl
tho room occupied bv **
roof of the shed. At the S^'
roof stood a leach. On tbc«pj f 0 .' 1
and on the roof l found mud ;! «
in Fergus’ room l found more of t -
scraped and cleaned his boots J,
dirt into a stove, whence I rot hri,-
aji tu. ip*
that I was after proofs. I then t
tho sceno of the murder, end nfte
search discovered tho place whereat
been hitched for sometime.
rear of the houso, on an open
a tree, aud tho horse had
ground aud gnawed tho lark c( s?.
The footprints of a man could b w
traced across tbe garden, end l haljA
that Fergus came and went tbbtra
tho fourth day after the funeral i j
from thd insurance manwbat p.i'
during tho storm, aud then a-wtn,
issued and Fergus was taken kto c
By this time the townspeople had |*S
think it a queer case. Fergus bad --A
the house and declared that nothing MB
taken. No suspicious characters bitJ
noticed’ in tho neighborhood. Je*A; J
money had been left lying on the haS
showing that tho object could not h»;c-3
plunder. Did the woman have ea csm
No, not one, as far as we could lean, |d
could profit by her death? KoouktM
gus, aud yet this was one of the strong
he brought forward. It wasknowtowd
of people that she had made her villiH
favor. Would not everything he hud a
death!
To clinch our case and makecireuKtaa
evidence good we must show a motii c, Ta
seemed hopeless, but I went at tho ta
hoping evidence might aid r.e if M
was guilty. I examined his persoail t!a
over and - over again in scorch of a List,|
for two weeks after he had been sent to;
discovered nothing. Then I got the
where I ought to havo secured it befcm J
a drawer in his desk I found several aM
tiseinents plainly in tho interest of sriahs
One of them read: 2*
“A steady young man with $:0.0C3«he;i
can double it in one yeai ia a ks!£sdsq|
prise. For particulars address boi Ql,” at
Another read:
If you have cervo and f3,0C3 iac^
make you a millionaire in oa-yecr
the fullest investigation before iimstaa
for particulars.
A third jast hit his case:
Are you a young and aabttBsra.(*
that you could get ahead if proper’? teb.» I
encouraged? Have you any comT tr* ;a I
get from one thousand lo'threo tboesai. u*i
we will positively guarantee you SM “
for every dollar, and inside o£ u jetr-
I felt .sure ho had written sCT3ftk*|
parties, blit as 1 c6uld not
from them I set out to hunt theBtp'-'rJ
son. They were bold faced swin&t
they bothered me some, but iatbanl j,-
five letters written by Fergus la®
them he stated that he wonld K**"
money to invest, and expressed to ®*
tion at the particulars of the specuau"
far as given him. The greed of y
was his incentive. The woman, * H
been mother and sister to him, cam^i a w
lived race, and was in good heal 3,
month before her death was told of
in the hearing of Fergus that sba ■
to livo to We 90 or ICO years old.
death tho voung roan coulu hope
nothing, ns she was obliged to j
terest of her capital support her. ■
Murderer or not, the boy W? ^
heir, and bo Employed thobest
in tho west to -defend him- -
might take every dollar if -- {tf g
clear him. It was a veritable
with all the money and most °-
one side, but that web of
denco kept drawing doser legist
could neither bo broken no P"“ ^ _
Had Fergus been ianocan* V c?;laiae d it
each question would
Being-guilty, his evasion®!!,,
worse. Tho jury were '
before finding a verdict
an hour he had made a far
told mo .that he had been O
months, and that bo .j
ranged details until ^ c2 f? nr , 0 £ the
the most minute iuvestiga>-
detective talent.-New YorkSD-
•‘Catching It on
the ftf'
prist.f
it &
Wo havo never seen it
baa mossy Joe Miller ui anx^
L ^bccdoU Thomas’orchestic *3*
symphony or something m. . t0 a
at one part, was softened fl
whisper, when, like t-bo cmcS t ve
non, camo ono
Tho enraged conductor tur^J^^
the player: “Whattoth 0 ^fly
Just then a plump blue i( _ ^ j a - ■
from tho oboeist’s scorn
i dliink he vas von noae, **
Saturday Globa .
j B. Smith, of Sunnysw^*
had one of tho finesj
>mmpnity.
Smith decided to watch
covered a large raI , j tiw
floor aiid quickiV ? ra ,.,.* i
aud carry it away. *£; ii I- s eve2 5
rifle and succeeded m _
thieves.-Fleming ^
xi »