The Conyers weekly. (Conyers, Ga.) 18??-1888, October 31, 1884, Image 1

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    WRITE PAYE it UOIXG UP
!m Decreases Mie Already
Ch S r Mat r,a ‘
TS « '
„ w the cholera embargo on
„ market?” the
gSected the paper Journal was
paper Trade
market is very strong Prices
-J-rsince l nW but have advanced steadily m
the embargo was
S The lowest by price newspapers touched in was paper 51
such as is used contract
cents a pound, at which rate a
100,000 reams was made by a Ro.3e
{or two weeks ago. Now
street ihe publisher pound higher al
price is 1 cent a
hou?h not an ounce of rags will be
S in making writing the paper. held The a manu¬ meet
facturers of paper and
, : n Springfield, Mass., not long ago,
advanced prices 1 and 2 cents a pound,
according to the grade, or about 10 per
cent. The writing paper is directly af
fected by the embargo on rags, As a
result the manufacturers of blank-books
aud envelopes have ail notified their
customers that list prices are subject to
change without notice. Job printers
have to make prices from day to day on
the basis of the day’s quotations.”
“Will this continue ? ’
“Yes. Prices must advance, because
£here is a real scarcity of raw material.
The rise in the price of rag paper will
divert the chemically prepared wood
pulp to writing paper, and so even the
cheapest grades must advance, A fur¬
ther advance of from ten to twenty per
cent, would not surprise me much.”
One of the officers of the American
Paper Makers’ Association said: “There
will be a further decided advance.
Stocks of paper in the hands of dealers
are low, because no one carries much
when the market is sluggish. The
amount of raw material on hand is not
large enough to supply the demand up
to Dec. 1. The imported rags ordinarily
supplied one-third of the demand, but
as rags are not collected in winter as
freely as in summer, the foreign rags
supplied from forty to fifty per cent, at
that season. Even now some mills have
reduced the number of hours of work to
the week, so as to piece out the stock on
hand. The use of substitutes cannot
keep the price of paper from rising. ”
“How will this condition of affairs af¬
fect the financial standing of the trade ?”
“Paper makers and dealers have stood
ike vicissitudes of trade as well as any
other class of business men. Those who
have low-price contracts ahead have
probably low-priced contracts for stock,
and the paper on hand is not in sufficient
quantity to make any great wealth for
the dealers,”
A French Consul.
A curious story is told by an old
tchoolfellow of M. Lemaire, late French
Consul General at Shanghai and recent¬
ly appointed Minister Plenipotentiary at
Hue. Twenty-five years ago he was at
school at Tonnerre. There, with un¬
consciousness of his destiny, he was
nicknamed Jaunot, on account of bin
singularly yellow complexion. He was
14 quiet lad, not brilliant, often bullied
by his companions and somewhat hardly
treated by his professors. When fifteen
lie passed a vacation with an uncle in
burgundy and had for companion a
cousin much younger than himself.
Their delight was to play at soldiers.
Lemaire shouldered a rusty flint gun
aud the cousin flourished an old sabre.
One day it was agreed that they should
get up some wine from the cellar, not
with any pilfering intention, but merely
to play at soldiers plundering. As the
cousin was mounting the cellar stairs
Lemaire exclaimed, “Here is the ene¬
my! and pulled the trigger. The gun,
which he did not know to be loaded,
went off and blew out the brains of the
young cousin. Lemaire’s family, horri
hed at the event, sent him to sea as a
ca in boy. Nothing was heard of him
yGars> aQd sent no letters home.
At u last it was found out that he had
toblished ee
himself at Saigon, had learned
Ltanese and was employed as interpreter
at the French Consulate. Later
that news
came he had married a Cochin Chi
oese lady, whether a native or settler is
aot stated, and now the result of that
unfortunate shot with the flint gnn is
mat he is recognized the most
as aceom-
18 e diplomatist that France find
can
eon uct her affairs among the yellow
P je < Such is the history of Jaunot.
An Ice Carnival.
I'nr'h holding Preparations brilliant are under way
a ice carnival this
v’ v Wln if r at Greenwood Lake, New
f 18 the line of a railroad and
from New York
J ment y ; Company * ile Greenwood has the Lake Improve¬
D matter under
iro • is intended to make the
val complete car
in every detail, and more
^tractive than that in Canada last win
.i* ,° f Principal attractions
rill h l th ,° iarge ice patuoe,
lf . er r! which will
reek ° U 4116 lake and be need for a
Da ^ ng ^ time 811 8 °rte of
ther er attractions a if will be offered.
Trir ! iT raoin Among
e S on the ice,
sates, kating GS ’ baS6ba11 matches on
s matches, toboggan
running oon
- . matches,
otil 8 ^ ideboat races
3 ° tber winter a Ports. The
'* , 0nJy
te- f and 0pen “ the
o fOT be-
8 got ready “re
for the vast crowd ex
tool.
A PfiiNTEa’s toast: “The Press
‘Presses !” It
knowledge truth, represses errors, im
=-= and op-presses
none.
The Conyers Weekly.
VOL. VII.
THE OLD WIFE.
BT THEBOS BROWN.
By the bed the old man, waiting, fat in vigii
sad and tender,
Where his aged wife lay dying ; and the twi¬
light shadows brown
Slowly from the wall and window chased the
sunset’s g Id: n splendor
Going down.
“Is it night?” she whispered, waking (for her
spirit seemed to hover
Lost betw-een the next world's Bunrise and the
bedtime cares of this),
And the old man, weak and tearful, trembling
as he bent above her,
Answered “Yes.”
“Are the children in ?” she asked him. Could
he toll her ? All the treasures
Of their household lay in Biience many years
beneath the snow ;
But the heart was with them living, back
among her toils and pleasures
Long ago ;
And again she called at dew-fall, in the sweet
old summer weather
“Where is little Charley, father ? Frank and
Robert—have they come ?”
“They are safe,” the old man faltered—“all
the children are together,
Safe at home.”
Then he murmured gentle southings, but his
grief grew strong and stronger,
Till it choked and rtilled him as he held and
kissed her wrinkled hand,
For her soul, far out of hearing, could his
fondest words no longer
Understand.
Still the pale lips Btammered questions, lull¬
abies and broken verses,
Nursery prattle—all the language of a mother’*
loving deeds,
While the midnight round the mourner, left to
sorrow’s bitter mercies,
Wrapped its weeds.
There was stillness on the pillow - and the old
man listened lonely—
Till they led him from the chamber, with the
burden on his breast,
For the life of seventy years, his manhood’s
early love and only,
Lay at rest
“Fare you well,” he sobbed, “my Sarah—you
will meet the babes before mo ;
‘Tis a little while, for neither can the parting
long abide,
And you’d come and call me soon, I know—
and Heaven will restore me
To your side.”
It was even so : The spring-time, m the step
of winter treading,
Scarcely shed its orchard-blossoms ere the old
man closed his eyes,
And they buried him by Sarah—and they had
their “diamond wedding”
In the skies.
Tom’s Wife.
BY K. TEMPLE MOORE.
“A oity girl! No wife for a struggling
young man,” sighed rich, eccentric
Aunt Sarah, sorrowfully.
“Brought up with the expectation of
becoming an heiress, too. Her extrava¬
gant habits will ruin the boy I” said
Mrs. Pry, severely.
“And a beauty !” sneered Mrs. Crank
ett, with withering contempt.
So the gossips down in Tom Lysan
der’s native village put their heads to¬
gether and nodded grimly and forebod¬
ingly when they heard he had married
Lila Ware.
The daughter of his employer, he had
loved her long and almost hopelessly.
One day through the city spread the
news like wildfire that Ware & Co. had
failed. He went straightway to the
house where he had ever been a wel
come guest. Ho found the laughing
girl whom he had known graver, and
perhaps a little haughtier than of old ; a
woman whom the first breath of misfor
tune had not blasted to despondency or
lTr « ^
while he told the
story which had lam so long m his heart
unsaid. And when he had spoken she
gave him frankly the love which till
tb«i woman y pn e vei e
6 r 0 ”\ 1 )
hough bright , and , held ,, none of
cozy
the luxury of that which shehad
nown, u s e m
p ,,
we i as m wor e
world to lorn Lysanaer.
One evening Lila Lysander came up
to where her-ius an sa wean y in -
1U
Through the open windows came the
breeze, laden with promises of the sum
_ . . . i • •
k?tv'on the'^citv'etreets 0 - vio
"Timi .hafuit?"
He started at the sound of the tender
voice, and put his arm around her as
she stood beside him bad'
“Can you bear news, pet?”
“I can share it, Tom.”
He laughed at the brave, womanly
answer.
“The gqp of bad luck was double
barreled to-day, dear. Our salaries
were reduced one-third on account of a
partial failure of the firm, and—I had a
e A i ? Dt . ifT^ a , h ,,,
'
Oh, Tom! what does she h say? ?”
'That she is making arrangements
vith her lawyer to discontinue the al-
CONYERS, ROCKDALE CO., GA. FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31,1884.
“And all this on my aocount ?” wist¬
fully.
“Ah, that’s where the joy comes in,
my darling ! I have you—the rest is
nothing 1” ¥om
“Is she hot cruel, ?”
“Par from it. She is peculiar, whim¬
sical, easily prejudiced. She used to
love me dearly. And if her blessed old
eyes caught but one glimpse of my bon
nie bride—come for a walk, dear.”
*******
“Work ! for you, Mrs. Lysander? You
surely don’t mean it 1 Why, my dear
child, you don’t know the meaning of
the word. ”
Lila Lysander, standing before her
father’s o'd lawyer, a slim, childish
figure, lookel up at him with resolute
eyes.
“But I do mean it, Mr. Mitchell
Some position which will permit me to
be at home.in the working evening before Tom
returns. He is nigbts now to
make up for the decrease in his salary.
It is terrible to think he should toil so
hard while I am comparatively idle.
You will help me, Mr. Mitchell, you
must 1”
“Come to think of it, I know a place
that would suit you. She’s a client of
my office mate, Hilhouse, boarding at
the Revere. Rich, bless you, rich 1 She
wants a young girl to stay with her part
of the day, while she’s in the city—com¬
panion, guide, that sort of thing, yon
know. No one would ever take you to
be married, Miss Lila. There I I’m
dropping into the name myself, Craig
—your second name—Lillian Craig.
Capital 1 A harmless deception. Sit
right down here while I go and see Hil¬
house. Dear! dear!”
He bustled eagerly off, and bustled
smilingly back;
“Hilhouse says-it’s all right. Hois
privileged to engage you. A companion
—a few hours a day—ten dollars a week
to the right person. That wasn’t much
to you ouce, Miss Lila. Not much, was
it?”
* * * *
There were two ten dollar bills on
the top pantry shelf. But Tom didn’t
kcow.
“I’ll wait till it grows a little,” Mrs.
Lila said gleefully to herself, “and then
I’ll give him a surprise party.”
One day, in her luxurions room at the
Revere, Mrs. Percival lay ill with a fev¬
erish headache. Her companion went
softly about the room, dropping the
curtains and stopping the clocks, ios4 the
ticking of these latter should distnrb the
invalid. When she came back to the
couch she found two dim old eyes fast¬
ened on her in kindly scrutiny.
“Miss Craig, how long have yon been
with me ?”
“Two weeks.”
“Do yon know I’ve grown very fond
of you in those two weeks, little eirl?”
A thin hand wfto laid caressingly on
Lila’s.
“What a heavy gold ring you wear
like a wedding ring ! I wish it was. I
wish-”
She grew dreamily silent
The afternoon slipped away, Thb
shadows gathered, The room was
darkened, the clock stopped, and Lila
did not perceive how late it was grow
ing.
‘ Dees ^ your head n ache now ?
“ No - b,ltm Y he f rt dce f> Ldhai \
Slie suddenly and ^ ..
sat trec
noh ™P S ™ lAe from her stately ° Id
andyon ~
a “ f ch are P° 05 \
ftre ;)0t l on f , y> ou ave ® r e P 1
, .
2“ ttj d“gter—'"‘° *°°
llQh no , -p or give me 1 I can
JJj whato-what sound is that? A
Hark I”
“That ?” surprisedJy. “That is only
the angelus from the French Catholic
« The ftngelu3 1” She sprang to her
feet in alarm. “Then it is six o’clock,
I have outstayed my time. I must go.”
^ g anc } hurriedly found
my Cinderella, what a panic 1
Leave me your glass slipper. Come in.”
^ d«* ™ 8 fluDg wlde °I ,en and a
man rosliod into tli6 room.
„ My darling> how you have fright
ened me !” he said, crossing to where
Lila stood. “I got home early to
night, and forced Ellen to tell me where
you-Aunt 8arah
Be wheeled around and clasped the
old lady in his arms in an impetuous,
boyish fashion
“Well this is a surprise 1 How did
yon and Li la
“Yon know Miss Craig ?
“Miss Craig! ’-mystified*.
Lila came forwar qmc y.
“T did not know that she was yemr
aunt a ^ nt Toro ^ I ^ have never heard you
’
8 P eak f 1 * Per cival by 3 any 3 other
name save Aunt « Sarah.
iowance I have had ever since I was a
boy; also, to t radicate my name from
he: will. There 1”
“Miss Craig, you oannot be-
“I am Tom’s wife !” simply.
“You Tom’s wife?”
“I am,” with quiet pride.
“But he married a horrid city girl,
who was extravagant and knew nothing
about work—and--.”
Lila laughed at the vague hearsays.
“I am that horrid city girl. I was
extravagant when the extravagance
meant liberality. And love has taught
me the sweetness of work.”
A sudden recollection of his aunt’s in
j ustico to his wife came to Tom Lysan
der.
“Oome, dear, we must be going.
Aunt, pardon this intrusion. Good
night!”
But Mrs. Percival sprang up.
“No I” she cried, impulsively; “yon
will shake hands and forgive an old
womau, my children! Bless my soul,
Tom’s wife?”
Aud she bent and kissed her.
DOMESTIC RECIPES.
Elderberry Pie. —For a large pie
use half a pound of green grapes and a
pound and a half of ripe elderberries
free from stems; squeeze the grapes
from the skins, putting the skin aside,
place the pulp in a preserving-kettle
with elderberries, and boil them until
the pulp can be pressed through a sieve
to remove the seeds; then return the
pnlp to the preserving-kettle, with the
grape-skins and sugars enough to
sweeten the preserve; boil it fifteen min¬
utes, stirring it often enough to prevent
burning, and then use it for pies.
While the elderberry and grape preserve
is being cooked make ft pastry. The
addition of the grapes to the elderberries
improves the flavor of the preserve.
Elderberry and Grape Jelly.— Use
one-third of ripe grapeB and two-thirds of
ripe elderberries free from stems; put
them over the fire in a preserving-ket¬
tle, and cook them slowly until the juice
flows freely; then pour them into a jelly
bag, and let them drain nntil all the
juice is extracted. To each pint of the
juice add a pint of granulated sugar;
put them into the preserving-kettle, set
it on the fire, and stir until the sugar is
dissolved; continue the boiling until a
’ittl® of the jelly cooled on a saucer
stiffens; then partly cool it, pour it into
jelly-glasses, and when the jelly is quite
cold cover the glasses with white paper
fastened with white of egg or mucilage.
Apple Jelly. —Use tart, juicy apples
which are ripe and sound; if the jelly is
desired of a light color peel them; other¬
wise out them in quarters; do not core
them unless they are wormy; if the
apples are not well flavored add the yel¬
low rind of a lemon to each pound of ap¬
ples, and reserve the juice of the lemon to
ilse later; put the apples into the preserv¬
ing kettle with just enough water to pre¬
vent burning, and slowly cook them to a
pnlp; then pour them into a jelly-bag
and let them drain thoroughly; after all
the juice is extracted the pulp may be
sweetened and tised as apple-sauce.
Strain the lemon juice and add it to the
apple juice; to each pint of juice allow a
pound of white sugar; put the fruit
juice and sugar over the fire in the pre¬
serving kettle, and boil it until a little
cooled on a saucer jellies; while the jelly
is bailing skim it clean. Let the jelly
cool a little when it is stiff enough, and
then pour it into glasses; when the jelly
is cold cover the glasses with white
paper, fastened with white of egg or
mucilage
Railway Construct ion.
The meet noticeable feature iu the re
turns of railway construction during the
first nine months of the current year is
the great falling ,.ff in the mileage as
compared with what was done in pre
vious years. Thus far only 2,553 miles
have been built, as against 4.244 miles
in 1883 and 8,075 miles in 1882. But
this decrease is rather to be welcomed
as a healthy sign, because it shows that
there is little “wildcat” railroading.
The enormous waste of capital involved
in lines built long before they can be
profitable, and in unnecessary parallel
mg of ? x ‘ 8t 1Dg ^tes is a most at an
end. and it is . safe to say that nearly
every mile constructed this year was
needed. The new mileage is especially
marked in the Southern and far West
em States, where the means of trans
portation have been inadequate.
Steel rails at twenty-seven dollars per
ton, and money a glut on ^e market,
are calculated to m^te mfroad eon
struction itten so ; but many the lm PJ"?
mama to railroading,as marked the
period 1881-83 can be expected.
Canned.—O n wing ; to . the .. iiuwBosed increased de ue
mand to canned salmon the sardine
packing Le-third business of Maine has fallen off
< this season.
NO. 34.
THE COST OF A CRIMINAL.
A NEW AND PECULIAR VIEW OF THE
PEST OF SOCIETY.
What a SIPfle Thlrf Inflicts Upon Society—
An Appalling Waste.
[From the New York HotfrJ
The actual loss in dollars and cents
whioh a single criminal inflicts upon so¬
ciety is sometimes appalling. We groan
at the iniquity of politicians, and rejoice
when one of them who has stolen a few
thousand dollars is driven to jail or out
of the country; but such a fellow iff, as a
rule, less dangerous than some common
criminal who is sentenced for a term of
years for a small burglarly or for steal¬
ing a horse. For the criminal classes
waste far more than they consume; it is
beyond doubt that a thief—and most
criminals Jive by theft—a thief, who
does nothing whatever for society but
prey upon it, always takes far more
than he would need were his operations
honest. Money is worth its face value,
no matter in what hands it happens to
be; but the pickpocket whose specialty
is watches, knows that to earn twenty
dollars by his delicate handiwork lie
must Bteal at least a hundred dollars’
worth of timepieces. The “junk” thief
will tear out of a house, in course of
erection, all the lead pipe of the plumb¬
ing system, which in material and labor
has cost several hundred dollars, and sell
it by the pound as old lead, being well
satisfied if he can get ten dollars for his
night’s work. The financial results of
some great burglaries of dry goods and
jewelers’ shopB, silk houses and private
residences have been shown, at the trial
of the thieves, to be only one-tenth, one
twentieth, and even smaller fractions of
the value of the goods taken. Even in
great bond robbery cases the thieves
have obtained but a very small propor¬
tion of the actual value of the securities
stolen. Theft, like many other indus¬
tries, is not complete in itself; the booty
must be sold, frequently it must go
through several hands, to each of whioh
sticks part of the price, and no one of
them is the hand of a person who is
earning an honest living.
This would be bad enough, even were
every thief persistent in trying to keep
down expenses in his personal and do¬
mestic management. Unfortunately,
however, among the virtues which some
criminals profess and practice, economy
will be sought in vain. No reckless heir
of a million was ever more free-handed
than the thief is while his money lasts.
He wears fine clothes of faultless cut, he
smokes the best cigars; and in the dingy
back-rooms of grogshops, in the streets
most frequented by thieves, there is
more champagne opened than in some
famous places on Broadway, Burglars
always drive good horses, and their
feminine companions are arrayed like
Solomon in all his glory. Such luxuries
cost a great deal of money. So the
thief who does not want to change his
habits is obliged to be industrious in
business, and lose no good chance
through carelessness. If he spends five
thousand dollars per year, he must steal
fifty thousand, in which case he costs
society as much as a hundred honest
day-laborers, and gives society nothing
in return but an undeniable sense of ap¬
prehension.
“Like breeds like,” and criminals’
families may always be depended upon
to live by crime. Perhaps not all
thieves and bad characters in general
can repeat the appalling record of the
Dukes family, which gave the country
several hundred criminals; but they do
their utmost, in that direction, multiply¬
ing rapidly and negleoting to train their
offspring to live properly.
It will thus be seen to reform even a
single criminal is to spare society a seri
ous and steady infliction. A common
thief, who lives by his craft, steals more
in his lifetime than any great rogue,
who is not a bank president, ever gets
by a single “haul.” It is hard for a
sentimentalist, or even a missionary, to
regard such a fellow with tenderness
and brotherly love, but any one can af¬
ford to wish the rascal’s business meth¬
ods were different. To persuade and as¬
sist discharged criminals to lead honest
and self-supporting lives is one of the
tasks to which the National Prison As¬
sociation has addressed itself, The
work should commend itself to any man’s
common tense and pocket.
intelIig ent boy at school
f # ^ ^
m , gravefl) which at least had in it
toe latent element of truth. “Why,”
asked the teacher, “do they decorate
^T of and not yours and
mine The child vhocght for a mo .
ment mem or two, > and then said: “Please, >
ma’am, I think lts beeanae they are
dead and we ain’t The proposition
was unanswerable,
THE HUMOROUS PAPERS.
WHAT WE FIND IN THEM TO MAKE
US SMILE.
A Great Oversight- AVI' at a Mirror Tell*
—I.nj'injr It to the Baby—A Dry Season—
A City Appetite— Another Moral, Etc.*
Etc.
THE CAUSE OE IT.
Doctor: “Tell me exactly what your
condition is. Do you have any night
sweats ?”
Patient: “Yes, almost every night.”
“Doctor: “My dear sir! this begins
to look serious. About bow long do
they last ?”
Patient: “About as long as I have to
tote the baby up and down.”— Burling¬
ton Free Preaa.
ANOTHER MOB All.
Mr. Blank— “What! more money to
buy ribbon ? I never saw such extrav¬
agance. What did you do with the
change I gave you last week ?”
Mrs. Blank—“Put it in my pocket
book.”
“And where is the pocketbook ?”
“Lost it.”
“Lost it; worse and worse. When did
did you lose it ?”
“The day I went shopping. I laid it
down in the first store I visited, before
I had taken a cent from it, and it imme¬
diately disappeared.”
“Was there ever such carelessness?
How did it get out of yonr possession so
quickly ?”
‘It blew away.”— Phila. Calk
NOT A RELIABLE POLICY.
“Don’t you think,” she inquired ol
the clerk, “that these shoes are rathe*
large f"
“Ob, no, miss,” he returned, “not foot
you.” and
After she flounced out ol the store
the proprietor had finished talking to
him, it would have been impossible to
convince him that houcsty is the bos*
policy. — Graphic.
SHE KNEW ABOUT IT.'
“I tell you what," airily exclaimed
Perkins, as he eat down to the supper
table, “I was in a tight place this after¬
noon. ” “Yes, I know you were,” inter
rupted his wife, in clear cold utterances
that cut liko a knife; “I saw you coming
out of it.” And then it flashed across
Perkins’s mind that he had accidentally
stepped into a saloon with a friend for
the purpose of examining a doubtful
political statement with the aid of a
magnifying glass, and his contemplated
anecdote slipped from his grasp like
money at a summer resort, while tho
supper was finished amid a silence so
profound that he could plainly hear e
napkin ring .—Rockland Courier.
frobably correct.
There was a goodly number of ladiee
at Twenty-third street and Sixth ave
nue waithig for an elevated railway train
when a specimen of the New York
young “gent” of the day came pushing
through the crowd, rudely jostling aB
elderly lady.
“Here, sir, keep off,” said an old gen¬
tleman at her side, shoving him back,
"or I’ll teach yon a little politeness.”
“You will, eh?” came from Young
America, throwing a withering glanoe at
the elderly party. ‘‘I’d have you under¬
stand, sir, that there’s not a man in this
town can teach me politeness.’
Then he wondered why the girls all
tittered, — Herald.
STARTED WITH A LUCKY NUMBER.
“I hear Gail Fisher, who left here
a few months ago, is married and living
in Indianapolis. Did he marry well ?”
“Oh, yes; he married well. He was
well when he married.”
“No joking. I mean did he get a
good start by marrying ?”
“Oh, yes; he got a good start—he
married a widow with seven children.”
A GREAT OVERSIGHT.
Prominent Citizen—“There is one
question I would like to ask you, Mrs.
Lockwood, before pledging you my
vote. It involves a matter of some deli¬
cacy.”
Mrs. Lockwood—“Speak freely, sir
In matters of grave national importance
all minor considerations Bhould be put
aside.”
Prominent Citizen—“Are you sure
that you are old enough to be legally
qualified for the office of President of
the United States ?”
Mrs. Lockwood—“My goodness me i
I never thought of that. Certainly I
am not.”
His Character in Dispate.
“Do yon know this man to be of good
moral character, and well disposed to
the order of the community?” asked
Judge Truax of James Murphy, a wit¬
ness for Patrick Maguire, who wanted to
become a citizen of the United States.
“I told yon, Paddy, that that thing
would come out,” said James, turning
to Patrick and disregarding the Judge.
“Do yon know this man to be of good
moral character ?” repeated toe Judge.
“I told yon. Paddy, that I would be
asked that,” James remarked, reproach¬
fully. witness,” thun¬
“Yon are not a good
dered the Judge. “Step aside.”
Barnes moved sadly out of the court
room, saying: “Sure I cudn’tswear that
Paddy was a man of good moral eha-rae
ter, fwhin I know his woife, and I see
another woman bringing his dinner to
him at the dook.”— N. Y. Time*.