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XIX.
IMPRISONED IN CUBA-
PART I.
the mysterious package.
There is not a class o£ men in the world who
■possess such a horror of police and prisons, and
regard with such veneration and respect the
■Jaw and its of ten-times mysterious workings as
■“those who go down to the sea in ships,” and
although they often find themselves “fouled”
in its meshes, it is generally due to accident, or
the machinations of some “land-shark;” or per
ihaps, in dealing with unprincipled people
“along shore,” the sailor may he unwittingly
flaught in the net spread to ensnare him.
Although the mariner may boa veritable
giant when upon the broad, trackless ocean, ho
is a mere child if placed among men who have
their training upon terra firma; and
the simplicity of the sailor is often the cause
of his being arraigned before the bar of
justice.
It is very seldom that one will find a seaman
•deliberately committing a deed which will lay
himself liable to arrest, and when such a case
is met with it will almost invariably be found
that the act was done to assist a friend or
shield a comrade from the consequences of
■Some misdeed.
A few years ago, shortly after the capture of
Captain Frye and crew of the American steam
er, Virginias, and tlie subsequent execution of
a part of the same by the Cuban authorities, I
became entangled with the Spanish soldiers of
lhe beautiful tropic isle of Cuba, and my ac
quaintance with them came very near putting
an end to my voyage of life.
I was a master of a trim little barque sailing
Ji'om Boston and engaged in the West India
’trade.
One evening while the vessel was lying at a
wharf in the latter port where she was receiv
ing cargo for Matanzas, I was sitting upon the
{quarter rail enjoying an after-supper smoke,
when I observed a young man of perhaps
twenty-five years of age coming down the
dock very leisurely.
As he got abreast of where I was seated, he
Stopped, and with a very affable smile, bade
mo “good evening,” and then inquired if wo
■were not bound to the West Indies. Assuring
him that wo were, he stepped aboard, remark
ing that he belonged in Cuba, and was looking
lor a vessel in which to take passage.
I rather liked the appearance of the stranger,
,and seeing a chance to make a few dollars for
■piy owners by taking a passenger, as we had
plenty of room in the cabin, I offered to take
him, and wo soon agreed upon terms; the
Stranger promising to give me fifty dollars in
the morning for his passage to the island.
The following day, while sipping coffee in
•company with the mate, I was surprised to see
Our prospective passenger with a small valise
in hand hurrying down the wharf.
There was no one about, as the hour was
•quite early.
He stepped quickly on board, and with the
profound politeness peculiar to the Cuban peo
ple, bade me a “very good morning.” After
partaking of a cup of coffee with us I invited
jhim below and showed him the room ho was to
occupy during the passage.
lie was very well satisfied with the accom
xnodatlons, and taking out a well-filled wallet
the paid me the price agreed upon, then and
there.
“This bag,” he remarked, indicating the
small satchel in his hand, “contains some arti
cles of value, and I should be well pleased if
you would take care of it for me until we
teach Matanzas.”
Os course I was perfectly willing to accom
snodate him, and took the bag; he then went
ashore, promising to be on board in the even
ing, as we were going to sea the following
morning.
When left alone I turned my attention to
the bag which was still in my hand ; it was
small and neat, and, I judged, quite an expen
sive affair.
Turning it over I observed an address pain
ted in white letters upon the bottom; it read,
“Senor Roderiquez Gonzales, 13 Plaza di Poco,
Jdatanza, Cuba.”
The Plaza di Poco I knew quite well, as I
Siad been many times to Matanzas, and had
•teamed considerably about the city.
It was a pleasant little open square, sur
rounded by the homes of the middle class,
most of whom were native-born Cubans.
However, I had not much time to spend
With the bag, so I threw it into my bunk and
closed and locked the state-room door before
going ashore.
A master of a vessel is always very busy on
the day before sailing, as there is sure to be a
great deal of business to attend to, and my pas
senger never entered my mind but once, and
that was when I went to “clear” at the custom
iiouse.
It was quite late when I returned to the ves
sel, and on entering my room, the presence of
the bag reminded me of the Cuban, so calling
tlie mate, I inquired if the stranger had yet
Come aboard.
“No, sir, I’ve seen nothing of him,” was the
•officer's reply.
In the morning everything was bustling and
active. The crew were aboard and the tow
boat alongside shortly after daylight, but noth
ing had yet been seen of our passenger.
The pilot and the captain of the tug were
anxious to start, but I was bound to wait until
the last moment to give the young fellow a
chance.
Soon our overtaxed patience was rewarded.
A hack dashed down the wharf and drew up
at the vessel’s side.
It was not the Cuban who alighted, however,
but a telegraph boy waving a dispatch in his
hand and calling for “Captain Graham, barque
•Rambler.’ ”
“Here,boy .here!” I cried, jumping into the
mizzen channels to reach the message, which
J quickly tore open and read:
“Captain Graham, barque Rambler, Consti
tution wharf, Boston.
Through unforeseen circumstances it will be
impossible for me to make the passage with
you. Please deliver the little bag I left to the
address upon it, and retain the money I paid
you for your trouble. Q. D. Gonzalez.
Hastily thrusting the bit of paper into my
pocket, I called to the pilot, “All right, pilot,
let tier go”—and in a few moments wo were
heading down the harbor, the tow-boat puffing
away alongside, while the crew were rapidly
Spreading the white canvass to catch tho
strong, westerly wind that was to give us a
good start upon our voyage; and as may be
supposed there was now no thought of the' Cu
ban left behind.
The passage down to the island was without
event and we came to anchor in Matanzas after
a run of eighteen days.
AVe were, of course, boarded by the full force
■of Cuban officials, revenue, military and naval,
and after a close scrutiny of our papers and a
rigid search of the barque I was allowed to go
ftshore to report to the consignees and “enter” i
the vessel.
I had not thought it necessary to inform the
Customs authorities of the Cuban’s trust as I
jfelt assured that I could any time during our [
etay in port, deliver it to the address and no !
one would be the wiser.
It is true that the officers looked at me very
fjueerly when I explained the absence of tho
basseuger whose name was on the manifest,
but as lie had not been found on board the ves
lei, they were obliged to accept my story ; still
I noticed that my movements were more close
ly watched than they had ever before been;
£uey even went so far as to place, beside the
regular custom house officer, a soldier of the
army on board the vessel.
This strict surveillance did not at all please
me and I was now determined to deliver the
bag to No. 13 Plaza di Poco in spite of all the
Spaniards on the island.
I fully realized that it would be no easy mat
ter to get the bag out of tho vessel without the
officers detecting mo, although it was but a
small parcel.
I watched my chance, however, and one day
it came.
Several American captains, whose vessels
were in port, had made up a party to visit tho
renowned Crystal cave that lies upon the east
ern side of the Bay of Matanzas. Os course
each one must carry some refreshments for
themselves and their boat's crew, and here I
saw an opportunity to smuggle the bag ashore.
Accordingly, tho night before the picnic, I
spoke to the officers over a glass of brandy
which I put out for their special benefit, and
requested permission to take some eatibles
ashore the next day.
They gave their consent without hesitation,
and I at onco called the stewart topackup his
“dog basket” with provisions and drinkables,
and purposely had him make a display of do
ing this before the officials, as I wanted them
to see everything that went into the basket.
After it was full we left it on thecabin table
ready for the morning, as wo were to start by
daylight.
Along the middle of the night when I was
sure that everything was quiet, I turned out
and, securing tho basket, hurried back to my
room where I removed some of the food and
put tho Cuban’s bag in its stead and again re
turned the basket to the cabin table.
All the time I could hear the footsteps of
the officer, who was on watch, pacing the
deck overhead, but as there was no light in the
cabin I had no fear of being detected.
In the morning everything worked as I had
expected; I went over into the boat in which
were two of my men, and the steward handed
down the basket; waving an adieu to the
officers we pulled away across the bay.
AV ben well over to the eastern shore I took
the bag out of the basket and changed the
course of the boat so as to land on the outskirts
of the city.
Reaching the shore I instructed my men to
pull for the cave 'where they would meet the
other captains and deliver the basket to them,
and say that “business had called me to town,
but I would join them some time during the
day.”
A few minutes later I was seated in a Volati
le (Cuban carriage) and was being driven slowly
(a Cuban team will never travel fast) in tho
direction of the Plaza di Poco.
Turning into the square, in the centre of
which were growing rare and beautiful t Top
ical plants, I observed several policemen and
Spanish soldiers lounging about, but as one
cannot take fifty stops in any Cuban city
without meeting one or more of these servant's
of the crown, I paid but little attention to their
presence.
I however ordered the carrage to stop sever
al doors from the house of which I was in searh ;
and. after dismissing the driver, I proceeded
on foot.
Number thirteen differed little from its
neighbors, save an unusual air of quiet by
which it seemed to be surotpided; it. had the
same large iron gateway, leading Into the
enclosed area peculiar to all Cuban houses;
the same long, barred, open windows, but,
unlike the majority, these were furnished with
close blinds which effectually precluded tho
passer-by from obtaining the slightets glimpse
of the enterior of the dwelling.
Anproacingthe gate I rapped loudly with the
ponderous knocker, and my summons was
quickly answered by an old man who took in
my whole dimensions before dropping tho fast
enings of the gate, and then not until I had
repeating tlie name of Roderiquez Gonzalez,
thirteen, Plaza di Poco, several times.
Finally, appearing satisfied that I had a right
to call, he opened tlie gate just far enough for
me to squeeze in, and then after again securing
the fastenings, he led tho way across a paved
court, in the centre of which was playing a
miniature fountain, into cool room and
from thence into another which was quite
dark, but as my eyes became accustomed to tho
gloom I could see that it was a chamber, nice
ly furnished, and upon a couch in tho middle
of the apartment was the outline of a recum
bent form, which started up at our approach.
My guide spoke a few words in Spanish and
then retired, while the person upon the couch
arose, and throwing open one of the blinds al
lowed a stream of light to enter the apartment,
and by its aid I could see that I was in the
presence of a fine looking gentleman some
what past the meridian of life but with a tall
figure still erect, and with eyes that flashed
out brightly from beneath a pair of gray
brows.
Turning, he addressed me in his native
tongue, only a few words of which I could un
derstand, but by those few I knew that he bade
me welcome, and inquired the object of my
visit.
I replied in English, asking if I had the
pleasure of speaking to Senor Roderiquez
Gonzalez.
“I am he,” ho returned, in English which
had but a slight accent, “in what can I serve
you?”
Before I could respond his eyes fell upon the
bag; instantly his whole manner changed. In
voluntary he sprang forward and reached out
his hand as if to grasp it, and then collecting
himself he looked searching!}' into my face.
“That bag—where did you get it?” he ex
claimed, impetuously, but in a low, subdued
voice.
“It is yours,” I replied, handing him tho
satchel, “at least this is the place where I was
instructed to leave it.”
If the bag had contained the riches of Gol
conda, he could not have received it more
eagerly.
“Excuse me a moment, but remain here”—
and with that he hurrieuly left the apart
ment.
He might have been gone perhaps ten min
utes when he returned and approaching tho
window closed the blind, which left us in total
darkness, then drawing a chair close to mine,
he inquired eagerly as to how the bag had
come in my possession.
I gave him the whole story, described the
young Cuban and showed him the message
which I had received the morning of sailing.
“My boy, my boy,” he murmured, and sever
al times during the recital he broke in upon
me as though he was about to tell me some
thing, but would then quickly chock himself.
At the close of my narrative I arose to go
when the strange, old man requested me to be
seated a few minutes longer, and then again
left the room.
To say that I was surprised at his manner
does not express it. There was certainly some
thing very mysterious in it all, and 1 was half
tempted to sneak out of the house like a thief,
so wrought up were my feelings, when my host
again enternd.
“Captain,” he began—"you have rendered a
service, the value of which you may never ■
know, and thousands yet unborn will bless you |
for it. It is impossible for me to repay you for '
all the risk you have run, but take this”—
thrusting a packet into my hand—“as a slight |
memento of my gratitude. I shouM Invite you I
to renew this call upon me, but it would bo
j dangerous to us both ; even this may do you
injury, though I trust not”—and pressing my
Land he unceremoniously pushed mo before
him through a series of hallways and rooms to
I a rear entrance and left me bewildered upon
the street with the package in my hand which
I I had not had the presem e of mind to refuse. I
For a moment I stood still, not knowing ex
actly which way to turn and feeling that I had I
undoubtedly escaped from a call upon a lu-
I natic, when I was startled by the exclamation.
Bonos dios, senor!” and looking up recog
nized the features of an army officer who had
.frequently been loitering around the ship
„ chandler's, the custom house and other places
ATLANTA, GA., TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 1887
about the water front where my business
called me.
His appearance recalled mo to my senses
and awkwardly answering tlie salutation. I
turned on my heel and hurried away, nor
stopped for anything until seated in a boat
and being pulled off to my vessel, anil did not
breathe easy until I stepped over tlie rail to
the deck, and even then a glance at the packet
which I still clutched in my hand was suffi
cient to cause me to tremble.
Hurrying through the cabin I entered my
own room, closed the door and broke open tho
package and tojniy surprise out foil 'several
United States bank bills.
PART 11.
THE ARREST.
I gathered tho money up, and it counted
just two hundred and fifty dollars; then I sat
down and pondered. Surely the contents of
the bag must have been of great value to have
called forth such a present, but tho more I
tried to explain tho affair to myself, the more
I was puzzled.
The day wore slowly away; at sundown the
boat returned bringing word that tho other
captains were disappointed at my not being
with them.
At an early hour I sought my bed in any
thing but a tranquil frame of mind, for I
knew that should tho authorities discover that
I iiad carried the bag ashore and left it, no
matter what the contents might be, it would
go hard with mo, for the Spaniard of the AA’est
Indies has little love for tho American, and is
only to well pleased to catch one tripping.
I might have been midnight when I was
awakened from a troubled sleep by the sound
of a boat bumping alongside and the voices of
strangers on deck. At length several men
came down, the forward companion way, but
they were met by tho mate who refused them
admission to the cabin. They then began
loudly calling for the captain.
I trembled, I’ll admit it; but there was no
alternative, I must face them. So hurrying
on my clothing I came out into the cabin and
met the officers.
“AVe must take you ashore, captain,” re
marked one of the soldiers in English.
“For what?” I demanded.
“That the captain will learn when we reach
there”—was the. only satisfaction that I got,
and unceremoniously they hustledjnio out of
the vessel and away—but not before I had a
chance to tall my mate to inform tho Ameri
can consul early in the morning of what had
taken place.
On leaving the bark I was surprised to see
that they did not take the course for the city,
but kept away to tho westward
“Where are you taking me?” I inquired, in
dismay.
“See, bimeby,” was the only answer, and I
hold my peace.
Soon the dark outlines of the shore arose
before me, but tho formation of the outline
as it broke upon my view caused a shudder to
creep over me and almost froze the blood in
my veins.
It was the fort that we wore approaching,
and the sharp angles and lofty turrets stood
out grim and threatening against the star-lit
sky in the west.
Al! the tales that I had over read of the
Spanish inquisition and the manner in which
they administer justice (?) in Cuba rushed to
my mind, ami again the fate of poor Captain
Frye was still fresh in my memory.
Still I was sure that they could only punish
me with a fine for smuggling the bag ashore;
yet, suppose that the bag contained something
of Importance to the Cuban patriots? AV hat
if I had unwittingly been the bearer of valuable
mesages to tho insurgents?
The thought almost unnerved me.
If it was so, and the government had found
the packet, I could expect no better fate than
fell to the lot of so many of the crew of the
Virginias.
AVhen the keel of tho boat grated upon the
coral rocks at the foot of a flight of stone steps,
I was ordered to disembark, and between two
soldiers with muskets, and preceded by an offi
cer, the ascent was began up the damp, slimy
stairs.
AVe had not taken many steps when we were
hailed by a sentry who was answered by the
officer in whose charge I was—we then re
sumed our way: soon a bright light shone in
our faces and we could see an open door a little
above us.
Through this door we passed and as it swung
to again upon its massive hinges we
found ourselves between tw’o rows of soldiers
with drawn swords; the apartment seemed to
boa sort of guard room or keep.
A few moments after our entrance, during
which time we had remained standing without
a word being spoken, a door in the further end
of the room opened and an officer, gaily be
decked witli gold lace, entered and approaching
our party took some papers from the soldier in
charge and began to read them very carefully.
AVhen he had finished he waved an adieu to
those who had arrested me, and they at once
turned and left the apartment by tho same
door through which we had entered.
Then, at the word of command, two soldiers
stepped from the ranks and began to search
my pockets and clothing, taking everything
that they could find even to my handkerchief.
I was next ordered to fall into line with the
guard and was marched off through long gloo
my passageways, down flight after flight of
damp, mouldy steps; past strong iron doors
which was easy enough for me to imagine were
closed upon some poor mortals who were des
tined never again to breathe the pure air of
heaven, but to lie entombed within this dismal
pile of masonry until welcome death should
release them from their suffering, perhaps
years after their very names had been forgot
ten in their own homes.
Onco 1 heard—or thought I heard—a low,
distinct moan, that seemed to rise from the
fctone flagging beneath our feet.
Narrower grew the passage, as we advanced,
and by the feeble rays of the single torch car
ried by one of the guard. I could see number
less lizards, scorpion I, and other creeping rep
tiles scamper away at our approach,
At length, after a journey which seemed to
have led me into tho very bowels of the earth,
we were halted before one of the numerous
iron doors, which the officer unlocked and
opened, and without further ceremony I was
thrust into a small, damp, fetid cell, with bare
stone walls, floor and roof.
By the light of tho torch which streamed
into the apartment before the heavy door was
swung to, 1 could see that it was entirely
empty, save a countless number of those loath
some creatures which had darted across our
pathway as we came down the corridor.
O, what a feeling of despair camo over mo
when I found myself alone in total darkness,
entombed in this loathsome, subterranean
dungeon.
Slowly the remaining hours of the night
wore away, giving mo plenty of time to think
over tho incidents of tho past few weeks and
see if I had done anything to deserve such
treatment.
Easy it was to trace my trouble to the strange
youth who had formed my acquaintance in ,
Boston, but I had committed no crime in deliv- I
ering his effects to his family, save in the act
of smuggling them ashore and that in Itself
was a trivial offense.
The more my mind dwelt upon the matter, I
the more I was convinced that I had allowed ;
myself to become a medium between tho I
Cuban patriotsand their sympathizers in tho
United States, and tho information or what
ever it was that I had delivered must have
been of great importance to call forth such a
reward from Gonzalez. Vc,, th re was no
doubt but what 1 was in for it, and knowing I
tho irascible temper of tho Spaniards I felt I
that my death was well-nigh certain.
After what seemed an ago from the time of
my commitment to the prison, a faint streak
made its appearance upon one of the walls of
my cell; it was the first break of day.
The small aperture through which the light
struggled was only about fire feet from'tho
floor, and I could easily look out.
The slit was too narrow to allow a very ex
tended range to my vision but I could see that
I was confined on the water side of the fort,
and directly fronting tho shipping. But this
fact afforded me little consolation, for I felt
sure that 1 should only leave this dreary dun
geon to march to my death.
I was gazing wistfully out through tho tiny
aperture when I heard tho heavy bolt thrown
back and the ponderous door swung open upon
its rusty hinges; and turn ng 1 was confronted
by an officer and a silo of soldiers armed with
muskets. Tho officer, with drawn sword, step
ped into the cell, and in a pompous manner
ordered me to “fall in,” and we took up our
march through tho tortuous passage-way to
the light of day above.
Issuing from the underground labyrinth of
corridors we emerged into a spacious square
across which 1 was conducted and placed with
my back against tho stone face of a wall, while
the soldiers w’ero drawn up in line a few paces
in front of mo.
Several soldiers now appeared carrying a
table and some light camp-stools which they
placed quite near me but little to one side, and
then retired ; two of them almost immediately
returned bearing that grim symbol of death, a
coffin.
That my time had come I was certain, but I
resolved to make a vigorous protest aganst
such summary measures, and called loudly for
a hearing. But I might have saved my
strength, for my protestations were not taken
the slightest notice of.
Presently u number of officers appeared
crossing the plaza, and to my unspeakable re
lief I recognized the American consul in their
midst.
I was the to bo granted tho semblance of
a trial at least.
The officials wasted no time in further cere
mony, but seating themselves at tlie table
began at once by one of their number reading
the indictment, which was repeated in English
by an interpreter, and which accused mo of
“aiding and abetting the Cuban Insurgents,
who were in arms against their lawful sover
eign’ the King of Spain, by delivering into the
hands of one of the chiefs of the insurgents,
incendiary papers to incite the people of Cuba
to further deeds of violence against tho gover
nment, and also money to enable them to
carry on a desultory warfare.”
To have attempted to disguise anything or
withhold any part of my share in tho unfortu
nate affair 1 knew would be disastrous to my
cause; so I told my story staightforward from
beginning to end, and the eousul, I saw, was
faithfully translating it.
Several times, I afterwards learned, tho
party employed as interpreter construed my
language so as to make me appear much more
guilty than I really was.
The fact that I had concealed the presence
of the bag in my Cabin from the officers, and
then stealthily convoyed it ashore and deliv
ered it to tho address upon it. was a strong,
very strong point against me, and it required
all the eloquence Os tho consul to prove that I
was ignorant of the contents of tlie bag.
“If the prisoner had been aware what was
witfiin the bag, would lie have dated to liayo
taken it to thirteen .Plaza di Poco in broad
daylight, when the plnza is full of soldiersand
members of tho secret service ?” asked my
countryman and defender.
This argument bore weight. For some ten
minutes tho officers converged apart, while tho
consul did his best to cheer me up.
AVhen everything had been fixed apparently
to their satisfaction, an elderly soldier, one
who seemed to bo chief among my judges
arose, and in a lengthy speech Imposed my
sentence.
“The court had found that I had been but an
unwitting agent, and therefore was not wholly
responsible, but inasmuch as I had surrepti
tiously conveyed tho bag ashore I had thereby
violated the customs rule and was consequent
ly found guilty and ordered to pay a fine of
five hundred dollars in gold, and to remain im
prisoned within tho fort at Matanzas until tho
sum was paid.”
Oh, what a relief. I almost fainted on
hearing tho sentence, the reaction was so
great I
As may bo imagined it required but a few
moments for the consul to give his bond for tho
amount, and I was a free man.
I had no desire to remain longer within tho
walls of the grim old fortress, after my release,
and in company with my defender hurried out
through a sally port which was opened for our
egress, and as we wore passing through, much
to our surprise, tho contents of my pockets,
(which had been taken from me the previous
night) were retured to me.
Thus was ended my first and last tilt with
the blind goddess, which far-famed lady may
be said to bo doubly blind in tho distant islands
of tho Antilles,
I afterward ascertained that the Spaniards
had failed to secure tho person of Senor Gon
zalez as he had left tho city lhe same day of
my visit, but as I had been seen to enter his
house with a bag and leave it without one, and
as he was known to hold strong revolutionary
principles the authorities thought it their duty
to arrest me, thinking that 1 was at least a
sympathizer, and that through fear of instant
death I would reveal some secrets of the in
urgeuts.
<
ROTHSCHH.D’H TERRIBLE REVENGE.
From the Dctriot Free Press.
An amusing adventure is related as having
hapjiemd to the Bank of England, which had com
mitted the unpardonable sin of refusing to discount
a large bill drawn by Anselm Hothsehild, of Frank
fort, on Nathan Rothschild, of I.ondo c The lank
hud haughtily repll.d that they discounted only
their own bil s; not those of private persons ; but
they had to do with one stronger than tire bank.
“Private ; esons?” exclaimed Nathan when the
fact was reported to him. “I will make those gen
tlemen see what kind of private person-: we are.”
Three weeks later Nathan Rothschild—who find
employed the interval In gathering all tlie five
pound notes he could procure in England and on the
continent—presented himself at the bank. He drew
from his pocketbook a five pound note, and they
naturally counted out five sovereigns, at the same
time looking quite astonished that the jfuron Roths
child should have personally troubled himself for
such a triHe. The baron examined one by one the
coins, and put them in a little <an, as bag, then
drawing out another note—a third a tenth—a hun
drelth—he never put the pe< sof gold Into tire
bag without scrupulously examining them, and in
gome instanceea trying tlreui In the balance, us the
law gave him the right to do.
The first pocketbook being emptied and tho first
bag full, he passed them to bis clerk and received a
ge l end, and thus continued till the bank closed.
The baron had employe 1 seven hours to change
£21,009, but as he iuid also nine employes of his borne
engaged in the same manner, it resulted that tlie
house of Rothschild had drawn £210,000111 gold from
the Bank of England, and that he had so occupied
■ ■ no otic r pel son <o.l ■ I
single note.
Everything which liears th- stamp of eccentricity
has always pleased the English. Tliey were, there
fore, t m first day, very much amused at the little
pi.pic of Baron Imtliseidld. d liny laughed
tliey saw him return the next day,at tlie opening of I
tho bank, flanked by his nine clerks, and follov.e 1
this tin,e by drays to carry away tbespci.i-. Tliey I
laughed not at all when tlie klngof bank i--. .Id |
with Ironic simplicity;
"These gen'l'.men have refused to pay my bills. I |
have sworn not to keep theirs. At their leisure— i
only I notify tie < that 1 have snougn P> crnp.oy j
them for two monti.s ”
“for twoniMi.h-l ”
“Eleven millions In gold drawn f. cm the Bank of
England which tliey have never ;x>.-.< - cd
The bank took alarm. There was something to lie
done. Next morning notice appeared in the Jour- !
oats that henceforth tlie bank would pay Bolus
child's bllU the salae a:t their own.
The Anarchists Daughter.
BY WALLACE P. REED.
For The C institution.
It was nine o’clock in tho morning, and the
yards and offices surrounding tho Morley mills
presented a spectacle of almost turbulent ac
tivity.
A thousand operatives were at work inside
tho mills, and outside an orderly mob of clerks,
truckmen and laborers surged to and frobvsily
engaged in their various tasks.
Tho private office of Mr. John Morley, tho
millionaire owner of this vast establishment;
was unoccupied. It was too early for Mr.
Morley to make his appearance, but tho janitor
had carefully dusted the handsome desksand
chairs, and arranged everything in perfect
order.
From time to time a clerk or an errand boy
entered the office and deposited a letter or a
parcel on the great man’s desk, and then re
tired with business-like celerity.
Taking advantage of a moment when tho
office was deserted, a swarthy little man with
restless black eyes and a stern, strongly marked
face, slipped into the room.
Tho visitor was Silas AVost, one of the opera
fives, but his movements would have made it
apparent, if there had been any one to watch
him, that he was not in search of Ins employer.
“Aha!” chuckled Silas, “I am just in time,
and I had bettor not tarry.”
Ho drew from his pocket a small square
parcel wrapped in white paper and laid it on
the desk by the inkstand.
The parcel was addressed to “John Morley,
Esq.,” and was marked “Personal.”
Silas AVest quietly left tho place, and after a
furtive glance around to assure himself that ho
was not observed, he took a quick turn down a
narrow street whore there was not a living
thing in sight.
“Old Morley didn't know that ho had an
anarchist among his men,” ho muttered.
“Well, ho will never know it now. There is
enough dynamite in that thing to kill a dozen
men!”
A troubled look came over his face as ho
talked to himself.
“It is a bad thing to do,” ho said; “but,
curse him, why did he suspend mo? An
honest workman has a right to take his littlo
spree now and then without having tlie bread
taken out of his mouth. Morley treated me
like a dog, and ho deserves what lie is going to
get.”
lhe man walked along with his head down,
evidently struggling with unpleasant thoughts.
“Confound it!” he broke out, “I am forget
ting tho sublime principles of my creed. I t
lias been held by wise and good men that it is
right to assassinate a tyrant. These bloated
capitalists uro in the same box. AVhenever
one is killed his wealth goes into different
hands and is distributed. If we can’t have
communism wo can at least kill off the men
with big fortunes, and their money will be
scattered liy their numerous heirs. Morley's
death will be a benefit to mankind.”
Still, Sil#* did not linger anywhere in
the neighborhood of the mills. Ho knew that
the expected explosion might occur at any
moment, but a nervous dread took possession
of him, and Im was seized with a desire to
reach his cottage and shut himself up.
“Good news!” exclaimed Mrs. AVest when
Silas entered the door.
“How? What is it? I don’t understand,”
stammered her husband, turning his careworn
face upon her.
“It is almost too good to be true,” replied
Mrs. West, half laughing and half crying.
“Who would have thought that a millionaire
like your Mr. Morley would take tho trouble to
think of us?”
“ Woman! AV hat do you mean ?”
“Oh, Silas, how can you look so? Mr.
Morley is our friend. Ho sent his secretary
hero this morning to request you to return to
work, and, Silas, he says that if you will lot
liquor alone ho will promote you, and that (Jiis
suspension was only for your own good. It
was to give you time to think. Now, my dear,
don’t you agree witli me that Mr. Morley is a
good man, and won’t you promise to turn over
a now leaf, and quit that secret society which
takes up so much of your time?—for lam sure
that half of your trouble comes from going
with those strange, repulsive looking men.” '
Silas AVest had turned as while as a sheet,
and he raised his hand to his head with a
groan.
“Husband, are you sick?”
“Where is little Mary?” ho asked with a
vacant stare.
“Oli, yes; I’ll tell you about that, too,” said
Mrs. AVest. “Alary, dear little thing, was so
delighted over the news that she couldn't rest
until she fixed up a pretty bouquet to place on
Mr. Morley’s desk so that ho would find it
when he camo down.”
“My God!” screamed Silas. “Do you mean
that—”
“Yes; she went to the mills half an hour
ago, and will be hero in a few minutes.”
With a wild shriek of more than mortal
agony, Silas AVest staggered forward and fell
senseless to tho floor, just as the muffled sound
of an explosion a mile away rattled the win
dows of the cottage.
It was a long time before Silas West recov
ered from liis attack of brain fever, and win n
at last be was strong enough in mind and body
to listen to tho sorrow-stricken woman by his
bedside, he silently prayed for death.
“It was M) horrible, Silas,” said his weeping
wife, ‘ to have our little golden-haired darling
kille'l in that manner. She was mangled
beyond recognition, and the horror of it nearly
killed me. But, Silas, there was one blight
gleam in the midst of all our trouble. Mr.
Morb y and his w ife came here. They had tho
funeral arrangements made, ami during all tho
weeks that you have been ill Mr. Morley has
footed all the bills ami saved us from starva
tion. W<- owe him a debt of gratitude that wo
can never repay.”
She paused in her talk. Her husband had
fainted.
The tragedy caused by the explosion of the '
dynamite bomb in Mr. Morley’s otfico had been
driven out of tho public mind by other matters
of semational interest before Silas West was
able to return to his work. Some of his fellow
operatives told the wretched father that the
affair was supposed to be the work of tho
anarchists, but (hat no olew bad ever been ob
tained. It was believed that the little girl had
waited in the ofiice for Mr. Morley, and tlie j
queer-looking package bad attracted her atten
tion. She bad probably handled it, ami an ;
unfortunate touch had caused it to explode.
Mr. Morley told bis wife that Silas West was ,
tho most tender-hearted man be had ever j
known. Ho went back to work a changed man. !
His face wore a look of hopeless sorrow, but he ‘
seemed to be entirely devoted to three things—
bis wife, bis work, ami Mr. Morley. j
“No,” said Mr. Morley one day; “I am not
afraid of anarchists in my mills. I treat my
workmen like men, and tliey appreciate it.
But if there is any danger that man, Silas '
West, will warn me in time, For some reason I
lie has an intense hatred of anything like 1
anarchy. If vou mention tho name of an .
anarchist in Ids hearing he turns white and .
red and grits his B eth. I toil you, West has a
heart of gold! There will bo no anarchists !
around as long as he stays with me.”
Tlie patient, pale-faced worker in the Mor- 1
ley mills will doubtless go to his grave ami '■
make no sign. His wife wonders sometimes at
hi tenderness, and tiis employer thinks him a j
littlo cranky in bis rigid sense of duty.
Silas West alone Knows the piuse of the ’
regeneration and reformation, and hip. secret '
has made him a feeble old man, although ho j
is still in bis thirties.
PRICE FIVE CENTS.
HOW SWEARING EZ REFORMED.
True Story of a Modern Uncle Toby—Coovers’
ed by an Honest Woman’s Frayerg.
Fiom the Chicago Inter-Ocean. *
The best, or rather the worst, swearer I eve*
knew was an old farmer up in the northwest,
ern part of Pennsylvania. Profanity flowed
( from his mouth as fast and fluently as water
from an artesian well. He was swearing at or
about something from the time he awoke in
the morning until ho kicked his boots under
the bed at night, and his wife declares that he
i even swore in his sleep.
But whether that statement is correct or nosy
he certainly did deserve the nick-name whical
everybody called him behind his back, “SwearJ
ing Ez.” He had the reputation all over that
end of the State for being the most profane
man in exlstenoo. People universally hated to
come into contact with him, so voluminous
was his vileness. But profanity was his only
vice. He was a rarity, a rich man
WHO WAS OENF-Hons TO A FAULT.
He didn’t go to church, but his wife paid the
pastor of the little brown Presbyterian church
more money every year than any other mem
ber of it. And every fall, as sexm as his first
grist of buckwheat was ground, “Swearing Ez’*
• would take a two-bushel bag of tlie flour to tho
parsonage and give it to the pastor with the re
l mark: ‘‘Parson, I’ve brought you some of the
—~ nicest Hour that ever let grow ill
this country.”
Old Ez was no lij pocrito. He didn’t pretend
to he a bit better before the preacher than ho
did lie fore his plow. He was the same man
every day in the week. There was but one
thing that “Swearing Ez” considered a terrible
crime, and that was drunkenness. EverytimO
be met a man whose breath was scented with
spirits Old Ez waded into him. Imagine a
man preaching a temperance sermon with »
blood-chilling oath sandwiched in between
nearly every other word I It would lie laughs*
ble if it wasn’t so shockingly wicked. And X
know of more than one instance when ho
wound up his temperance lecture to a pooF
drunken wretch by
HANDING HIM ICNCUGH MONEY
to buy a pair of shoes or a hat and even a sulf
of clothes, and then saying: “Now, you ——•
lazy loafer, get fixed up and, by ,
try to make a man of yourself, you.’’
Well, that’s the kind of a man “Swearing
Ez” was, until one winter’s day, not quite four
years ago. Ho had been drawn as a juror and
was roaming around tho county seat of “Mes
ser Diocese,” as somebody long ago christened
tho staid old town of Mercer, ft sounds para
dox ica Ito say that extremes meet,but tliey did
that night; “Shearing Ez” stumbled into the
camp of the. Salvation Army. 11 was not then
what it is now, there were in that particular
company or regiment, a number of sincere,
honest, hardworking Christians—a little
cranky, perhaps, but earnest and true worship
pers of God.
I f Hit ad been a regular church or an ordiik
ary congregation of church-goers, old Ez would
have gone out of there like a sheep over a stile.
But the novelty of the thing attracted him.
1 (e went into the tent and sat down on one of
the rear seats.
A BIG, HONEST-LUOKING OLD SOUL,
who carried the cognomen of Halleluiah Anne
was speaking. It seemod she was a widow who
had two sons killed on tho battle-field. One
was a Christian and died at Antietam with e
prayer on his lips. Tho other was an unbe
liever and he died on the battle field of Gettys
burg, cursing with his latest breath.
The old woman was uneducated; her gram*
mar and her phraseology were all but proper;
yet when she finished her sad story of her only
sons, the life, death ami the hereafter of each,
tears were running down the cheeks of all who
hoard it. She wept, but not alone. At the far
end of the tent were beard heavy, half
smothered sobs. There sat “Swearing lCz,” his
strong frame shaking with emotion, and tears
streaming over the hard, cruel lines of his face.
Presently he rose to his foot. Slowly he ad
vanced to the kneeling form of the old woman,
whose sad tale had so wonderously affectea
him. Placing his hand on her silvered tresses
he said, in tremulous tones: “My mother, too,
had sons who went to the wars.
ONE WAS A CHICJHTIAN J
I was not. At the battle of tho Wilderness he
was wounded. We both knew he was dying,and
as 1 knelt beside him, the ground stained with
his blood,ho tried to pray. He died. Four (lays
later I was shot through the arms, a triflling
wound enough, but they put me in tho hospital.
How 1 cursed God ami man for niy allliction[
Instead of thanking Him for saving my life, I
cursed because I was not killed. Well, 1 came
home. My brother’s death had killed my
mother, if God will forgive me, I will meet
them in heaven. Pray for me as you have
prayed for your sons, as my mother has fox
mo.”
That scene will never be forgotten by those
who witnessed it. “Swearing Ez” went into
that place a hardened, wicked man. He cam!
out a penitent sinner, and from I hat day not an
oath has left his lips. The man who was once
despised by all is now the more honored and
respected for tlie hard battle be bad to tight
and bravely won. The Salvation Army saved
“Swearing Ez” if it never before or since ac
complished any good.
ABOUT A YEAR AGO
I board him relating his “experience,” and it is
so different from that usually heard at “love
feasts,” “campmeetings,” and “classmeet*
Ings,” that a repetion of it may prove interest
ing ami amusing as well. “I had a great deal
of trouble after I quit swearing,” the old man
said. “In the first place I couldn’t do any
Blowing. I had to ‘break’ my oxen over again.
They understood every oath and cuss-word I
ii m d, but when 1 talked decently to them they
didn’t know anything. Same with my dog.
He couldn’t even chase a chicken w hen I or
den d him to in plain English, but if I’d swear
al him he’d tackle anything that walked. I
finally had to invent a lot of slang that wasn't
wicked to fire at the dog and the oxen.
They’ve learned it now and we get along all
right, but it was pretty tough sledding at first,
1 tell you.”
. •
Whiftky Arithmetic-
From the Cincinnati Enquirer.
“How many drinks of whisky do you
' age a day?” »ald one gentleman to another us they
w< r<* enjoying a social glass at a well known resort
on Vine street yesterday afternoon.
“Oh, taking the year round. I presume my average
would be about ten a day.”
“And how long has thb been going ons” wag
asked.
“Straight along f<>r twenty years, I guess; but It
■ never hurt me any, and I cun tend to my patients
- (he is a professional man) just as well as 1 ever
I.”
“But how much whisky, taking your own state
ment for it, do you suppose you have drunk during
| that time?”
“I’m sure I don’t know. I never thought about
that.”
“Well, let us take another nip and then
I figure on it,” and they did, and here is tho result of
their work;
“Ten drinks a day would be seventy drinks a
I w-ek, or over6.o drinks in a year. In years
' that would give the enormous numtMsr of 7X-
■ drinks. Now, the average drink taken in thw
Country is j-ahl to lx- 60 to a gallon. Then dividg
this 72,800 by 60, and y*iu will liml that you have
' consumed 1,213 and a fraction gallons. Now, therw
an .-upixwd to be, on an ftvetug •, 36 gallons to g
burn 1. Divide 1.213 by Wami you find that you
you have drunk just about th.rty-rix barrels of tha
I stuff.”
The old toper l< ok d at the figures and then at
his friend, ami then remarked: “Well, let's taka
one more and then 1 think I’ll give my stomach a
i rest foi a day or tx,o.”
Burlington free Prr»i: Occasionally practical
Jokers <lo a witty thing—as when some students iu a
western city took down a sign, “Stamping dong
here,” and put Bup over the entrance to a
i