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THE RIGHT ROAD.
I have lost the road to happiness,
Does any one know it, pray?
I was dwelling there when morn was fair
But somehow I wandered away.
f saw rare treasures in scenes of pleasures,
And ran to pursue them, w'hen, lo!
I had lost the path to happiness
And knew not whither to go.
“I have lost the way to happiness—
Oh, who will lead me back?”
Turn off from the highway of selfishness
To the right—up duty’s track!
Keep straight along and you can’t go wrong
For as sure as you live, 1 say.
The fair, lost field of happiness
Can only be found that way.
—Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
A PECULIAR OCCUPATION.
The mist that hung over the city one
morning recently, making everybody feel
uncomfortable by the excess of humidity
with which it charged the atmosphere,
was slow'ly being dispelled by the
strengthening rays of the sun, when Ralph
Williams, a stout, clean-shaven man,
came out of an old-fashioned house on
East Third street. He paused on the
stone steps and looked at his watch. It
was just 7| o’clock. He stroked his chin
reflectively, and started across town at a
Bharp pace.
He was a man who would be likely to
attract attention by his appearance any
where outside of New York. He was a
typical townsman, faultlessly dressed,
with an air of self-possession, a pair of
keen yet laughing blue eyes, and a well
trained moustache. He was unquestion
ably good-natured, yet there was some
thing in his face which told that he could
not be trifled with. He moved with erect
figure and a rapid stride through the
hurrying throng of men and women, lads
and maidens, boys and girls that were
hastening to their work. At Broadway
he turned up town and walked as far as
Fourteenth street, and then started across
town again.
Between Fifth and Sixth avenues he
stopped at one of the big dry goods stores
and went in. The big establishment was
echoing with the sounds of bustling ac
tivity. The clerks and cash girls were
busy taking down cloth covers from the
shelves and counters, and dusters were
being plied in vigorous fashion. Floor
^walkers ently excited were rushing about ordering in an appar
manner the dispo
sition of newly-arrived stock, fixing upon
the articles for the “bargain” counter,
and preparing to have everything in ship
shape order before the arrival of the day’s
customers.
j: As Mr. Williams walked up the centre
aisle he was greeted by the clerks and
floor walkers, and nodding a smiling
“good morning” to each. He stopped
here and there to make some banteriug
remark, which was always responded to,
for, in spite of all the rush, the clerks
found plenty of time to talk, and the
waggings of tongues and the hum of
chatter were very perceptible.
“Mr. Williams, the Superintendent
wants to see you.”
This remark came from a big-eyed,
small-bodied, cash girl. The smile died
away from Sir. Williams’s face and a
very serious expression took its place, lie
turned and walked quickly down to an
office near the end of the floor. He
turned in and stopped at a desk where a
stern but handsome woman was busy in
reading a letter. Her brow was contracted
into a frown, which was evidently caused
by the contents of the letter.
“You wished to see me, Miss Can
ter?” asked Mr. Williams, brusquelj r .
As Miss Canter, the Superintendent,
looked up it could be seen that there
many silver hairs among the black.
“Yes,” she said, speaking in a sharp,
business like manner. ‘ ‘Here is a woman
complains that her pocketbook was stolen
from her while she was making some pur
chases at the linen counter. It was a
black seal pocketbook containing a plain
gold ring, some cards engraved Mrs.
John Stone, East Orange, and $25 in
_ii
“She dropped it out of her hand and
it was picked up by Cash 35. It is now
at the office waiting for her to claim it,”
interrupted Mr. Williams, calmly,
The Superintendent nodded and Mr.
Williams turned and left the offic e.
“Mr. Wilsou would like to see you,
sir,” said a cash girl as he walked over
to the toy department. He retraced his
steps and entered another office, where
Mr. Wilson, junior partner of the mil
lionaire firm, sat back in his chair study
ing the ceiling in a reflective manner.
There seemed to be a bond of sympathy
between the two men, for both smiled
cordially as their eyes met.
“Ralph,” said Mr. Wilson, “I want
you to do a little quiet investigating for
me to-night. There is a fellow here from
Colorado with a scheme he wants me to
go into. It sounds a little fishy, and I
want to know just how things stand. If
you are not too tired see me at my house
about 8 o’clock.”
“All right, sir.”
“And, Ralph, I have just received a
communication from a lawyer in’Jersey
City. He says his client was thrown
down stairs in our store through the
carelessness of a cash girl who stepped
on her dress. He wants damages and
threatens to sue. It smells like black
mail. Investigate it to-morrow. If the
story is true we will pay liberally; if not,
we won’t pay a cent if it costs thousands
to defend a suit. Here are the names
and addresses.”
Mr. Williams left the office and walked
SCHLEY COUNTY NEWS.
up the aisle, making several entries in
his note book. He stopped at a counter
near one of the Fourteenth street en
trances. It was covered with piles of
laces strung on pasteboard cards. A
sign that swung from a bracket in the
centre denoted that it was the “bar
gain” counter. The women who always
arrive early to get the best of the bar
gains the stores have to offer were com
ing in now. All the chatter of clerks
and changing of stock were over with,
but the confused sounds of customers
making purchases, of clerks answering
questions, of floor walkers giving orders,
and of cash girls running hither and
thither made as much noise.
Mr . Williams took a position some dis
tance from the bargain counter, and
leaned against a showcase. To the cus
tomer he looked like a particularly lazy
man, who had wandered into the store
and didn’t have energy enough to get out
of it again. His hat was pulled down on
his brows, and he seemed to be lost in
a reverie. Suddenly there was a flash of
his eyes, and he stepped into the strug
gling crowd of bargain seekers.
“Madam,” he said to a tall, angular
woman, who was making a bold dive
over the heads of several smaller women
to get a piece of lace, “your pocketbook
is in danger.”
Madam didn’t hear, so he touched her
on the shoulder. She turned with a
scowl and glared at him. His interrup
tion had made her relinquish the prize
she was seeking just as her fingers were
closing on it.
“How dare you, sir?” she exclaimed,
hotly. “I don’t know you, sir.”
“Your satchel is open, and your pock
etbook could easily be stolen,” said Mr.
Williams, calmly.
The woman turned pale, and started to
make some remark, but he had already
resumed his former position. He still
seemed to be deeply engrossed in thought
when a handsome, well dressed woman
passed him. Her hands were full of lit
tle parcels, and her purse was slipping
out from between them.
“Pardon me, madam, but you are
losing your purse,” said Mr. Williams.
The lady started, blushed, transferred
her purse to her pocket, and said:
“Thank you.” Mr. Williams bowed and
lifted his hat gallantly, “There’s one
lady,” he muttered.
Suddenly there was a commotion
among the bargain buyers and a slight
scream. A pale-faced little woman had
been squeezed and pushed and hustled
about until she couldn’t stand it any
longer, and had fainted. Mr. Williams
was on hand in a moment. With the
aid of the clerk he carried the unfortu
nate woman up stairs to a room set apart
for just such emergencies. Then he pro
cured some ammonia and held it to the
woman’s nostrils. That revived her, but
she was weak and nervous, and it re
quired some diluted brandy to make her
feel well enough to sit up in a chair. As
soon as she had arrived at that pass Mr.
Williams left her in charge of a girl clerk
and hastened down stairs again.
He reached the first floor in time to
see that there were more breakers ahead.
The angular woman who had been so
angry when Mr. Williams reminded her
of the fact that her satchel was open, had
now lost her pocket-book, and was sure
that the clerk at the button counter had
taken it.
“See here, ” she said to the floor walker,
as Mr. Williams came up, “that girl has
taken my pocket-book as sure as you
live. I laid it on the counter here, and
turned my head for just a minute. There
was nobody else near, and when I turned
around again the pocket-book was gone.
It had $17 in it, too.”
Here she showed an inclination to
weep, but her eyes remained dry. The
floor walker looked grave, and the girl,
a pale, delicate creature, burst into tears,
and was rapidly becoming hysterical.
“Now, madam,” said Mr. Williams,
“you are making a very serious charge
against this young girl. She has been a
clerk here for some time, and has always
borne the best of reputations. What
have you to found your charge upon?”
The woman frowned. “I don’t know
what business it is of yours,” she said.
“I am the detective iu charge of this
store,” replied Mr. Williams quietly,
“and I have everything to do with such
cases. If you can prove your charge I
will arrest this clerk. If you have made
it w ithout proof then you stand in dan
ger of arrest yourself. We do not intend
to allow unfounded accusations against
our clerks to go unpunished.”
The woman turned pale, and stam
mered that she could not understand how
it could be otherwise than she had said.
Mr. Williams interrupted her with:
“Have you looked in your pockets!”
“Oh, I'm sure it isn’t there, for I
left
“Look,” said Mr. Williams, sharply.
The woman stuck her hand into her
dress pocket, and turned pale as a sheet.
She began fumbling awkwardly, but Mr.
Williams said, agaiu speaking sharply:
“You have it iu your hand. Now
show it.” The woman fished out the
pocketbook, looking very shame faced.
“Now, how about your accusation?”
said Mr. Williams, in a sarcastic tone.
“I really,” stammered the w r oman,
and, taking out a coin, handed it to the
clerk.
The latter indignantly turned her back,
and the woman retreated, red with hu
miliation and auger.
“Guess she’d like to kill me,” chuckled
Mr. Williams, softly. Then turning to
the sobbing girl, he said in a kindly
voice: “Never mind, child; there are all
sorts of people in the world. If you
tor your heart over every cruel
you won’t get along well. Pretty near
your luncheon time, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir,” sobbed the girl.
“Well, go now and bathe your eyes.
I’ll fix your time all right.”
Nothing eventful occurred within the
next twenty minutes, and Mr. Williams
stood looking out of one of the entrances
in his usual preoccupied manner. One
of the assistant superintendents came
along and touched him on the shoulder,
They passed out together and crossed
over to Sixth avenue, where they entered
a German restaurant, and soon were busy
discussing the merits of roast beef
and potato salad. It was a quiet
luncheon, and yet a merry one, for other
employes came over, and there was a
lively interchange of chaff. After
luncheon came a smoke, and then, the
hour having expired, Mr. Williams had
no sooner entered the store than a cash
girl came running up to him with a note.
It read:
“There is a woman in the bric-a-brac
department who needs watching.”
Williams crumpled the note in his hand
and started up the stairs to the second
floor. A woman of stylish appearance
was inspecting some cut glass. There
were many other customers in the depart
ment, but all the clerks were watching
this one. Williams scrutinized her
closely from under his eyebrows. lie
stood apparently examining a fancy clock,
but really studying her, for five minutes.
Then he took a slip of paper and wrote
on it these words:
“The suspect has been indulging
rather freely in wine, but is all right.”
“Send this to Mr. Wilson,” he whis
pered to a clerk and then went down to
the first floor again.
The usual throng was passing in and
out the Fourteenth street doors.
“Why, how do you do ladies?” Will
iams said, suddenly stepping up to two
young women.
They were rather overdressed andl
their faces though pretty, were marred by a
certain recklessness of expression and by
quantities of paint and powder. They
smiled knowingly, and the taller of the
two said in an amused tone:
“Hello, Ralph.”
“Haven’t you made a mistake ladies?”
said William in a calm, quizical tone.
Nobody watching them would have
supposed that he was doing nothjng
more than addressing some pleasant re
mark to the two women.
“It’s all right, Ralph,” returned the
woman in a deprecating voice; “we’re
straight this time. We only went to get
some lace.”
“All right,” said Williams; “I’ll go
along with yon to see that you don’t make
any mistake.”
The women bit their lips and looked
annoyed, but made no objection. Will
iams piloted them carefully through the
crowds and saw' them rnakw their pur
chases and depart. He watched them close
ly all the time w-liile he kept up a
running cross-fire of jests.
“Who are they, Ralph?” asked a floor
as they w'ent out.
“Two of the fiyest pickpockets in the
country,” was the reply.
Just then his eye rested on a woman at
the handkerchief counter and iu a moment
he was at her sMe.
“What, Kate again? Haven’t I warned
you to keep away?”
“I’m on the dead level this time,
Ralph, honest Injun.”
She was a dumpy, cross-looking
woman, very insignificant in appearance.
“That’s ail right, Kate,”said Williams
sternly, ‘ ‘but you’ll have to go through
the act just the same.”
His reply seemed unexpected, and the
woman swore savagely.
“Come, now, careful, Kate,’’said Will
iams, calmly, ‘ ‘you know' I won’t stand
much of that.”
The woman glared fiercely, hut fol
lowed him nevertheless to one of the
offices on the second floor. Williams
nodded to a woman floor walker and she
accompanied them.
“Search her,” he said, as the door
closed behind them.
The floor walker examined the pockets,
dress and underwear of the w'oman. She
proved to be a walking caravansary.
Handkerchiefs, stockings, gloves, toilet,
articles, pocketbooks and dozens of knick
knacks w ere drawn from the most wonder
ful hiding places. Her dress skirt had
been slit underneath some of the folds,
and this had enabled her to stick stolen
articles into pockets in her petticoat.
“Search her bonnet,” said Williams.
Kate started up as though to resist,but
a glance from Williams’s eyes made her
change her mind, and she sank back into
a chair w ith a muttered curse. A hand
some purse containing $50 was stowed
away just inside the bonnet.
“I didn't get it here, ’pon honor,
Ralph,” she pleaded.
Williams paid no attention to her, but
watched further the search of the floor
walker and directed her movements.
When the search was finished to his
satisfaction he led the thief down stairs
and out of a side entrance.
“This is your last warning,” he said
sharply; “the next time you go up.”
The woman crept away frightened by
his manner. As he re-entered the store,
Mr. Wilson came up to him:
“Here is a woman who complains that
she has lost her pocketbook. It lias a
card marked Airs. Johnson,’ and $50
in it.”
“Miss Dowling has it,” replied Will
iams. I just took it from a thief.”
It was now approaching 6 o’clock, the
closing hour. As the bauds touched the
hour Williams took hi* stand at the front
entrance. No more customers were al
to cuter, and the clerks began
ting their counters into order. In twenty
minutes all their customers had left, and
the advance guard of the army of clerics
began to pour out of the entrance at
which Williams was stationed. Although
it was evident that he was watching
them to see that none carried out any goods
belonging to the store, he appeared to be
popular with all. With many he ex
changed greetings. It wanted a quarter to
7 when the last clerk had gone.
One he had stopped. She was a cash
girl. She had a small parcel concealed
under her dress waist. After all the
other clerks had gone Williams made her
open the parcel. It contained a lace
handkerchief.
“Why did you steal that,” Williams
asked sharply.
She burst into tears, and begged pite
ously to be released, but Williams con
tinued to ply her with questions and to
talk to her severely. Suddenly his man
ner changed. He had learned what he
wanted to know.
“Don’t you know you have been very
wicked?” he asked in a kind, fatherly
way.
This made her, sob more bitterly than
ever. He continued to talk to her. It w'as
getting late, but he was determined to im
press the child. At the end of five min
utes she had ceased sobbing and had
promised earnestly never to be dishonest
again.
“Poor girl!” he said, as she walked
away, “she hasn’t had anybody to talk
that way to her before, I warrant.”
He gave the handkerchief to the night
watchman, saying it had been mislaid,
and looked at his watch.
“Whew! seven o’clock, he said, “and
I’ve to get my supper to be at Fifty-fourth
street at eight.”
“Been a hard day, Mi-. Williams?”
asked the watchman.
“About the same as usual, Ben. I’m
pretty tough and don’t mind it. Good
night.”
A moment later Williams had sauntered
into a restaurant and sunk languidly into
a chair. Although he speut only half an
hour at his dinner he did not appear to
be hurried. Up to the time when he was
ushered into Mr. Wilson’s study to re
ceive instructions for a hard night’s work
he was apparently a man of leisure. With
the appearance of doing nothing he cov
ered a large amount of territory in very
brief time. It -was one A. m. when he
entered the Third street house to retire
to well-earned repose .—New York Sun.
A Marvelous Warehouse.
Old Senor Garcia, of Cienfuegos, was a
connoisseur, or, some would have said, a
crauk, in the matter of woods. His
warehouse in the heart of the city is a
marvel in its way, a combination of
warehouse and dwelling, both on a
generous scale; but they say that he him
self selected almost every stick, and
would never allow the builders to use
two timbers when he could find a single
one long enough to answer the purpose.
These timber whims were expensive
luxuries and not showy one; for only a
professional builder’s eye would seize the
meaning and the cost of the massive,
clcan-cut, richly-colored beams, knit into
a fabric which would defy an earthquake.
But the old man could afford to gratify
his whims. I forget what the staircase alone
cost. It was a generous sum. At any
rate it winds up from the labyrinth of
bales aud boxes to a range of handsome
living apartments, and still higher to a
sort of tea-room on the flat-roof, a de
lectable place as the sun goes down and
the sea wind begins to stir. Such a view,
too, over the city, and back to the beau
tiful Trinidad mountains, and out over
that superb Bay of Xagua, twenty-one
miles long and nine .wide at its broodest
part .—New York Observer.
The Largest Grizzly Killed.
“Old Clubfoot,” the famous grizzlj
hear of the Sierras, was killed by
Trapper Hendrix near the source of Bat
tle Creek last Saturday. This ferocious
beast has wandered as a dreaded mon
arch in that section for the past twenty
years, and seemed to bear a charmed life.
Hundreds of cattle, sheep, hogs and hu
man beings have fallen victims to his
appetite during that period, aud many
parties organized for his destruction have
returned thinned in ranks and “with hair
turned white in a single night by a pass
ing sight of the dreadful fright,” which
thev vainly sought to destroy, The
beast weighed, when dressed, 2300
pounds, which, we believe, is the largest
animal of this species ever seen on the
American Continent. Mr. Hendrix feels
justly proud of his achievement, and a
purse of $50(1 has been made up for his
benefit by the residents of Eastern Teh
ama County. The bear was in rather
poor condition when slain, as old age
had clogged his blood somewhat, and
time had commenced to paralyze his for
mer supple limbs so that he was not able
to capture his prey as in former (lavs,
The pleased hunter is tanning the hide,
which he proposes to use as a cover for
his winter hut in the foothills .—Bed
Bluff (Cat.) Ncics.
A Great Engineering Feat.
Work has been resumed on the tunnel
under North Rive.’:. On the New Jersey
side 100 men are now engaged, and
preparations are well advanced for prose
cuting the exea Nations from the New York
end. Soon 800 to 1000 men will be busied
day and night in pushing to its comple
tion what will then be hailed as the most
illustrious engineering triumph of the
ago .—New York Telegram.
A vein of humor should be made visi
without the aim of u reduction mill.
‘‘HULLO.”
W’en you see a man in woe.
Walk right up and say “hullo!"
Say “hullo,” an’ “how d’ye do 1
How’s the world a-usin’ you?"
Slap the fellow on liis back,
Bring yer han’ down with a whack
Waltz right an’ don’t ’
Grin’ an’ shake up, go slow,
an’ say “hullo!”
Is he clothed in rags? O sho!
Walk right up an’ say “hullo!"
Rags is but a cotton roll
Jest for wroppin’ up a soul;
An’ a soul is worth a true,
Hale and hearty “how d’ye do!"
Don’t wait for the crowd to go,
Walk right up and say “hullo!"
Wen big vessels meet, they say,
They saloot an’ sail away.
Jest the same are you an’ me,
Lonesome ships upon a sea;
Each one sailing his own jog
For a port beyond the fog.
Let yer speakin’ trumpet blow,
Lift yer horn an’ cry “hullo!"
Say “hullo,” an’ “how d’ye do!”
Other folks are good as you.
W’en yer leave yer house of clay,
Wanderin’ in the Far-Away,
W’en you travel through the strange
Country t'other side the range,
Then the souls you’ve cheered will know
Who ye be, an’ say “hullo!"
— S. W. Foss, in Yankee Blade.
HUMOR OF THE DAY.
Jokes on the sun are too far-fetched.
How to remove weeds—Marry the
widow.
Colleges try to honor men by degrees.
—Mail and Express.
The cucumber does its best fighting
after it is down.— Siftings.
The photographer is nothing of an
enigma, but he is a good deal of a poser.
•— Bazar.
Wealth and impecuniosity is a mere
matter of cents and non cents.— Mer
chant Traveler.
The tree that George Washington cut
was once a cheery. Now it is a chestnut.
—New York News.
The section hand may not be much at
repartee, but he is great at raillery.—
Merchant Traveler.
Some reporters become proficient in the
giving as well as the taking of notes.—
Merchant Traveler.
In Russian society the question “who
is who,” is never asked. It is always
“vitch is vitch.”— Bazar.
The Siamese Twins regretted all their
days that they could never engage in a
single skull race.— Siftings.
“How is it your Tommy is so small for
his age, Mrs. Briggs?” “Oh, the little
deal- always was a shrinking child,” ex
claimed its mother .—New YorJ, Sun.
A Texas horseman, convicted of a capi
tal crime, asked the Judge if he couldn’t
be hung in his own house, since he was
always good on the home-strctch.— Sift
ings.
Teacher—“Sammie, how many bones
are there in the human body; your fath
er’s, for instance?” Sammie—“One; he’s
the ossified man at the museum.”—
Bazar.
Mother—“Ella, you cannot marry him.
He has no money.” Ella—“Why,
mother, I saw him give $5 to a beggar!”
Mother—“Probably an accomplice.”—
Boston Herald.
“Did you get that box of cigars I sent
you?” inquired the fiancee. “Yes, dear.”
“And how did you like them?” “The
box was veryuice indeed,’’hesaid, softly.
— Times-Democrat.
House Owner—“Have you any pla
cards, ‘This house to rent?’ ” Printer—
“Yes, sir. Here are some patent-fibre,
woven signs, warranted to wear for two
years .”—Omaha World.
Bride—“George, dear, when we reach
towm let us try to avoid leaving the im
pression that we are newly married.”
“All right, Maud; you can lug this
valise .”—New York Sun.
Cause and Effect.—Mamma—“Why,
Bobby, you are all over ink. Go and
look at your face iu the glass.” Bobby
(proudly)—“Course I am. We’ve had a
writin’ lesson again this morning .”—Pick
Me Up.
A Philadelphia freak offers to bet
$1000 that he can eat fifty eggs—includ
ing shells—in fifty seconds. The Norris
town Herald bets him $2000 that he
can’t, if he permits it to choose the eggs.
—New Yoi’k News.
Well Advised.—“My wife is bound to
set up househunting. housekeeping and has started me
out I don’t know whether
to buy or rent—either is bad enough.”
“Well, of the two evils one should
alw'ays choose the leased.”— Harper's
Bazar.
Judge (to prisoner)—“So you were
drunk aud disorderly ? What have you
to say?” Prisoner—“I’ve a good deal
to say, your honor, if you’ll only give
me time to say it.” Judge—“Certainly,
with pleasure. Sixty days will ho enough,
w-on’t it? Our object is to please.”—
Washington Critic.
Miss Hightone (seeing Rollo, the new
Scotch terrier, for the first time)—“Why,
Sarah, what have you done with Duke,
that lovely little pug?” Mrs. Llewyn
(lately a widow)—“Oh, I’ve given him
away. I like Rollo much better; he re
minds me so much of poor dear Alfred,
who had such lovely blonde whiskers.”,
_____