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OLD LOVE.
1 met her, she was thin and cold ;
She stooped, and trod with tottering feet
The hair was gray that once was gold,
The voice was liarsh that once was sweet.
Her hands were wrinkled, and her eyes,
Robbed of the girlish light of joy,
AVere dim ; I felt a sad surprise
That I had loved her when a boy.
But yet a something in her air
Restored me to the vanished time,
My heart grew young and seemed to wear
The brightness of my youthful prime.
I took her withered hanu in mine—
Its touch recalled a ghost of joy—
1 kissed it with a reverent sigh,
For I had loved her when a boy.
“I NEED NOT HEAR.”
I need not hear each night-wind loud
Go moaning down the wold :
I need not lift each bleachen shroud
From bodies white and cold.
Call not, O naked, wailing fall,
O man's unhappy race!
One drifting leaflet tells me all:
Tis all in one pale face.
The Girl Detective.
A Police Story.
The door of Rufus Markham’s count
ing room was scarcely closed, and the
proprietor of the large, flourishing cot
ton factory talked earnestly with a gen
tlemanly-looking man of middle age,
whose face was as impressive as a wax
mask.
“Five thousand dollars!” said tiffi
individual. “It was a large sum to
leave exposed.”
“Exposed !” said Mr. Markham. "It
was in my private desk to which no one
had access but myself and my nephew,
Fred Tyron.”
“Would it be possible for the young
gentleman—”
“Sir,” said Mr. Markham, indignant
ly, “my nephew is not a thief. If he
needed ten times that sum lie knows I
would freely give it to him. He will
lie my heir, and he is as dear to me as a
son. It is simply absurd to connect him
in any way with this robbery.”
•“Just state tliis matter again as
briefly as you can, and allow me to take
notes ; will you, Mr. Markham ?”
“Certainly. 1 drew live thousand
dollars out of the bank yesterday to
meet a note that was not presented for
payment. Retaining it until after the
bank was closed, I. concluded to lock it
in my desk until this morning, and did
so. At nine o’clock this morning, the
expected note was presented, and 1 un
locked the desk. The money was gone,
and with it a small memorandum 1 ook
that was in the small roll.”
“The lock was not forced V”
“No, sir ; the desk was apparently ex
actly as I left it.”
“And Mr. Tryon has the only dupli
cate key ?
The old gentleman frowned. He was
evidently displeased at the turn the de-
teetive 1 s suspicions seemed to he tak
ing
“Yes, my nephew certainly had the
only duplicate key.”
“Humph! Yes. Had you the num
bers of all the notes.”
"Yes. The roll consisted of ten live
hunjtlred dollar notes.”
Tjhe list of numbers being taken the
detective made a searching examination
of the apartment, and prepared to take
Ids departure. As lie stood near the
door Mr. Markham suddenly said, ner
vously, “I think, Mr. Vogdes, if you
make any discoveries you had better
report to me privately before making
any arrests.”
“Certainly, sir, if you desire it. Will
you grant,me one favor ? Do not men
tion the robbery to Mr. Tryon, if you
have not done so already.”
“No one has heard of it but your
self.”
“Very good ! I will call again when
l have any report to make
“Fred! Fred!” the old man said,
in a troubled tone when lie was alone.
“Vogdes evidently thinks it's Fred. It
cannot be. It is impossible that my
nephew would rob me. I cannot be
lieve it. And yet lie knew the money
was there. He was here when I handed
Arnold the check, and here when lie
returned with the money, lie knew
that Johnson's note was not presented,
uid Fred alone lias a duplicate key. O,
Anna’s boy that 1
|my son. Have I
Where have I
jal from
I
of roguery, ingratitude and theft. His
manner toward his uncle was the per
fection of respectful affection, and be
fore he had been an hour in the count
ing-room Mr. Markham’s fears were en
tirely gone.
They were talking of a certain dark
eyed little maiden who was soon to be
Mrs. Tryon. and when Fred left his
uncle it was with a promise that lie
Avould call in the evening upon Miss
Clarkson to arrange for the wedding-
day.
The young man, a favorite of for
tune, apparently, spent the afternoon
with his betrothed, received his uncle in
tiie evening beside her, and accompanied
the old gentleman to his boarding house,
receiving an affectionate farewell when
lie took his way to his room in another
house. For a week lie heard nothing of
the robbery.
It was just when summer twilight was
fading that, returning home from a
drive with Maud Clarkson. Fred met
his uncle’s confidential clerk waiting for
him at Maud's house.
I have a note for you, Mr. Fred,” lie
said, “ and as you were not at home 1
thought I would wait for you here.”
Something in the young man’s face
struck a sudden chill to Maud’s heart.
“ You have bad news,” she cried.
“Perhaps Mr. Fred had better read
the note,” was the evasive answer.
But Maud’s terror was only increased
when Fred, after reading the notei
broke into a furious exclamation of
rage.
“ Who dares to say that 1 am a mid
night burglar?” he shouted.
“ O, Fred, what is it ?’’ asked Maud,
turning very white.
“My uncle has been robbed of five
thousand dollars, and he pays me the
compliment of supposing me to be the
thief because I have a duplicate key to
his private desk. I—great heavens!”
he cried, with a sudden change in His
voice, “ he cannot mean it. 1 rob my
uncle—I—
Mr. Fred,” said the clerk, respect
fully, “I only waited to see how you
took the note to speak a few words of
advice. Mr. Fred, I was with your
father when he was killed on a railway
train ; I was with your uncle when lie
brought you from your mother’s funeral
to His home. I took you to boarding-
school, and brought you home for the
holidays ; and I’ve loved you, boy and
man, since you were ten years old—and
that’s twelve long years, i know you
never, never took the money; but
things look very ugly for you.”
“But,” said Fred, grasping hard the
hand the old clerk held out to Him, “ I
cannot understand it. Listen.” And
he read aloud the note from his uncle :
“Mr. Frederick Tryon :—I could
not believe, without proof—undeniable,
positive proof—that you could rob me
of five thousand dollars, taken, as you
know, from my private desk on Wed
nesday last. You are my sister’s son,
and I’ll never be the one to imprison or
punish you; hut you are no longer a
nephew of mine. Willingly, I will
never look you in the face again. Your
ill-gotten gains I freely give you to
start in some business, trusting that you
will endeavor to live honestiy in the
future. Do not try to see me ■, I will
not listen to any explanations I know to
be false. Do not write, for I will not
open your letters.
“Rufus Markham.”
Maud Clarkson grew white as death
as she heard the stern edict.
“O, Fred,” she cried, “what can
you do?”
“Starve, I supposed, “ was tiie Hitter
answer, “as I do not happen to possess
the ill-gotten gains lie so generously
presents me. But 1 will not ask you
to starve with me, Maud. You were
betrothed to the millionaire’s nephew
and heir ; tiie disinherited beggar frees
you from your promise.”
“ Fred,” she cried, bursting into
tears, “how can you be so cruel?
Then, unheeding the clerk, who was
discreetly looking from tin* window,
jifie came close to Fred’s side. “Darl-
ling,” she said, fixing her large black
eyes upon his face, “ if all the world
believes you guilty, I do not. If all the
world casts you off, I will keep my
promise. ”
The young lover had been bewildered,
indignant, desperate, but he folded the
gentle comforter fast in his arms, and
great tears fell on her upturned face.
“God bless you, Maud!” he cried,
I can defy the world if you are true to
Potter, sit down and tell
know of this wretched
his report. They did not notice me at
first, and when your uncle remembered
I was in the room I had heard about all j you.
Vogdes knew. You remember there was
a note coming due last Wednesday ?”
“To Johnson ?”
“Yes ; well. I thought at the time it
was curious that your uncle gave him a
check, when I knew the money was
drawn out of the hank the day before to
meet that very note. But I never knew
until this morning that the money was
stolen from Mr. Markham's private desk
by means of false keys. Mr. Fred,”
said the old man, earnestly, “it was all
in five hundred dollar notes, and your
uncle had the numbers."
“Well?”
"This morning Vogdes brought back
one of the notes which you gave to T.
yesterday in payment for a pearl lock
et !”
“stop ! Potter, let me think. Where
did I get that note? I have it. Arnold
gave it to me to take out a hundred
dollars that I lent him some time ago.
And Arnold—Potter—Arnold borrowed
my keys last Wednesday night to open
his trunk. Potter, huzza ! we know
the thief ?”
“Not so fast, Mr. Fred ; not so fast.
It will not be an easy matter to prove
this. Were there any witnesses present
when Arnold borrowed the keys ?”
“No ; T was alone in my room, half
undressed, when he knocked at my door
and said he had lost the key of his
trunks I lent him my bunch of keys,
which he returned before I was out of
bed the next day.
“And you were also alone when lie
paid you tiie money ?”
“ Yes : I thought he was very flush,
for you know as well as I do, Potter,
that a note for five hundred dollars is
not a daily visitor in Arnold’s pocket.”
“ He is a cunning scoundrel. 1-Ie
wants to ascertain if the notes can be
identified before he tries to get rid of
them himself. Air. Fred, will you leave
it to me a few days—only a few days—
and if I don’t catch the thief you may
try.”
“ But my uncle ?”
“ Wait till you can prove your inno
cence before you see him. Only a week
—give me only a week to catch Arnold.
And, by the way, you will give me an
additional chance if you will leave the
city. Throw him off his guard by lot
ting him suppose you are banished for
ids crime.”
“ Run away like a coward !” flashed
Fred.
“Only for a week. You see, tiie pro
bability is that Arnold has the money
in his possession yet. He will wait to
see the fate of what he has given you
before putting any more into circula
tion ; but lie lias probably hidden i#very
securely. He will watch, but if you
are willing I will take your room while
you are gone, and do a little detective
business on my part.”
It was not easy to persuade Frecl to
consent to Rotter’s plan, but Maud’s
persuasions being added to the old man’s
he finally consented to leave the city
for a week and return in that time to
vindicate his own innocence, in case of
Potter’s failure. <
‘ Before night Fred was on his way to
visit another city, and his landlady had
agreed to allow Mr. Potter to occupy
his place during his absence.
Fred had been gone two days when
the old clerk called upon Miss Clarkson
to report progress.
“ I am completely bailled,” he said, in
answer to her inquiries You see,
Arnold knows me and evidently suspects
me. He is so affectionately desirous of
keeping me in sight that I cannot get a
peep into his room ; and whenever he is
out, he locks the door and gives the key
to the landlay. I cannot force the door
yet, and by tiie time Fred returns I am
afraid tiie money will Ik* smuggled
away. I am sure the money is in Ids
possession now, he is so careful about
Ids room. Nobody gets in there but t He
landlady. L did think of bribing tiie
chambermaid to let me in when she was
at work there, but unfortunately she
left to-day.”
A flash of light seemed to pass across
Maud’s face, but she only said, de
murely :
“Your landlady is German, is she
not ?”
“Yes ; her English is very imperfect.
Have you ever seen her ?”
“No; 1 have heard Fred sjieak of
her. My mother, you know, was Ger
man.” Qp
“But what lias that to do with Fred’s
case _
ou. Vogdes has tried to
ui to
You ! What can you do ?”
Come to-morrow and I will tell
Punctual to theappointed time Potter
made His appearance. With dancing
eyes and flushed cheeks Maud met him.
“ Well ?” he asked, certain from her
looks that she had. good tidings.
“ I told you I would succeed.”
“ And you did ? Huzza ! I feel as
young as Fred himself.”
“To whom I have telegraphed to re
turn. He will be here this evening, and
you must bring Mr. Markham, Air.
Vogdes and the proper police authorities
to meet in his room. Then, Air. Pot
ter, go to Air. Arnold’s room and re
move tiie pipe of the stove at elbow.
In the' joint you will find Air. Mark
ham’s memorandum book and the miss
ing notes.”
“ You are sure ?•”
“Listen. This morning, in a calico
dress, sun bonnet and coarse shoes for
disguise, I applied for the place of
chamber-maid at tiie boarding house
where AL. Arnold has a room. 1 braid
ed my hair in two long plaits, and con
vinced your landlady that I was a recent
importation from Germany, unable to
speak a word of English. She agreed
to take me for one week on trial, and
before 1 had been two hours in the
house 1 was sent to tidy Mr. Arnold’s
room. Never was a room tidied so
quickly; and seeing my mistress on her
way to market I shot the bolt and
took a survey of the premises. The
trunk was locked, the bureau drawers
wide open, the closet ajar. 1 felt a
reluctance to overhaul his private de
positories, though I should have done
it,” she added resolutely, “if I had
been driven to it. I rummaged a little,
when on the closetfloor I espied a shirt,
apparently scarcely soiled except one
sleeve, and that was black with soot.
I wondered what he would be doing
at the fireplace in summer, anil went
to examine. A few minutes sufficed
to convince me that the stove had
been moved out and the elbow of the
pipe removed. I repeated the process
—to find a roll of live hundred-dollar
notes and a small note book, with the
name ot‘ Rufus Markham on the first
page. 1 carefully replaced everything
and came home. Now,Air. Potter, he
may say Fred put the notes there.”
“You are a brave girl!” cried tiie
old man, looking with admiration at
the beautiful, animated face, “and Fred
will owe you more than his life.”
“He can repay me by coming to tell
me the good news when he is clear.”
Eight was struck by the city clocks
when Air. Graham Arnold, dressed in
the latest fashion, and with a fragrant
Havana between his lips strolled leis
urely into his own room.
He had been in the parlor of His
boarding-house for an hour, watching
Air. Potter with some anxiety, but
wholly unaware of the little party of
four who, in Mr. Potter’s temporary
apartment, awaited His return to his
own room.
Once inside the door the nonchalant
look left the handsome face of the
young man and he muttered fiercely:
“I must get out of tliis. Potter sus
pects me, and may yet communicate his
suspicions to Air. Markham. I will he
off to-night as soon as the house is
quiet.”
He opened a small traveling satchel
as lie spoke, and was rapidly filling it
with necessaries for a journey, when lie
was interrupted by a kno^k at the door.
Tossing the satchel into the closet, lie
cried, “Comein.”
But his face turned livid as his call was
obeyed, and a party of five entered the
room.
Two policemen stationed themselves
on his right and left, while Mr. Mark
ham, Mr. Potter and Fred Tryon fol
lowed them.
“I^ow, Mr. 1’otter,” said one of the
policemen, with the face and voice of
the detective Vogdes, “will you tell us
where to find those missing notes?”
“What notes?” cried Arnold.
“What does this outrage mean ?”
“It means,” said Mr. Potter, “that
your plan to throw the robbery of Air.
Markham’s private desk uimiu his ne
phew lias failed. It means that the five
thousand dollars stolen from the gentle
man are now in your possession, except
only one note given to Mr. Tryon inpay
ment of debt.”
“ It’s a lie !” cried the prisoner ; but
this white face, faltering voice and
shaking limbs were no proof of inno
cence. “Search my trunks; search
everything I have 1”
“No, gentlemen,” said Mr. Potter.
“ Draw out the stove, if you please, and
look in the elbow of the pij>e.”
With a cry Graham Arnold fell sense
less to the floor as Vogdes put his hand
upon the stove.
Mr. Alarkham turned to Fred. There
was no word spoken. Hand clasped
hand, and each read forgiveness in the
other’s eyes.
Air. Graham Arnold spent some weeks
in jail ere his trial and conviction ; but
before his sentence was pronounced Mr.
and Airs. Frederick Tryon were cross
ing the ocean on a wedding tour to Eu
rope.
Martin’s Way of Ruling Fero
cious Beasts.
A curious history, and one that sheds
many gleams of light upen the character
of beasts in the menagerie, is that of
Henri Alartin, tiie lion tamer, who died,
00 years old. quietly at his home,
“among his collections of butterflies and
his books of botany. ” Martin, accord
ing to his own letters, began to culti
vate his gift of control over animals in
the days when lie was connected with a
circus, by acquiring an extraordinary
power over horses, whicli lie taught
every trick known to the profession, and
some of which have hardly been exactly
paralleled. From this he went to tam
ing wild beasts, and soon after lie had
started business as part proprietor of a
menagerie lie had labored eight months
in training a royal tiger and had taught
a spotted hyena to pick up his gloves.
He was never seen with a whip in his
hand ; but he crossed his arms anil gave
his animals the word of command to
leap on and off his shoulders, and he
considered his method infinitely superior
to that of the trainers who go through
their business chiefly by the terrorism
of a heavy whip and revolver. Their
leasts obey them, but he said “they are
not tamed as mine were, and when one
of them rebels you can judge tiie tragic
result from the tragical end of Lucas.”
One day Alartin told his wife that he
anticipated trouble with His lion Co-
bourg, who was then in a dangerous
state of excitement. .She begged him
to put off the performance, but lie said :
“No ; for if I should do it once I should
have to do it every time the animals
have caprices.” The next night his
forebodings were fulfilled. Instead of
performing His part properly, Cobourg
crouched low and dug his talons into
the stage, and his eyes flared. Alartin
had no weapon at command except a
dagger in his belt—“I have said never
a whip. ” Instead’of obeying orders the
lion leaped at Martin, and a combat
occurred in the course of which the lion
took Martin up in his mouth and shook
him in the air.
Martin struck the animal over the
nose for a second time, and then, feeling
his strength exhausted, gave himself up
for lost, and turned his hack to the
beast, so that at the next spring it might
attack the back of His netk. and so
“ make an end of the busineas. ” “‘But
two seconds passed—two seconds that
seemed to me an eternity. I turned
around. The lion’s mood had changed.
He looked at tiie audience; he looked
at me. 1 gave the sign to go. lie went
away as if nothing had happened.*”
It was fourteen w r eeks before Martin
could perform again, but then the lion
worked as well as usual, and continued
to do so for four years without any
more caprices. In taming one of his
tigers Afarl^P^began by taking the
brute’s attention off tiie door of the
cage, and then, armed with a dagger,
went rapidly into the cage and stood
looking at the tiger, which foV some
minutes lay mo:ionless, staring at him.
Then, feeling a shiver, and knowing
that if the tiger saw it all would be
over with him, he went again into tiie
cage, and this time stayed there half an
hour. A third time he payed,the tiger
a visit of three-quarters of an hours.
“The fourth time tiie tiger, trembling
at first, lay down before the pigmy who
brayed it.” To tame a hyena, Martin
wrapped His legs and arms with cords
and protected His head with a hand
kerchief, and then, walking imo the
cage, went straight to the animal and
offered it His forearm. The hyena bit
it, and tlie taiuer looking steadily in its
eyes, stood motionless. The next day
he repeated the experiment, substitiw
a leg for an arm, “ all the time Martini
black pupils were flashing into the grey
eyes of tin* hyena. The ln»ast gave up,
cringed and smelled the feet of the mas
ter.” Martin tamed his subjects by hij
personal influence alone, and Charlf
Nodler once said of him : “ At the he*
of an army Martin might have
lkmapartjfc Chance has made a laairof
genius ILL* 1 mejgtgerie.”
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