Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, February 04, 1891, Image 1

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lewis m. grist, Proprietor. | lln independent ^family .|lncspaprr: <Jfw the promotion of the fjolitieal, Social, Agricultural and (lommewial interests of the ?outlt. | TERMS?$2.00 A TEAR Df ADYASCE. VOL. 36. YORKYILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1891. NO. 53. "* " * * * 1 A ' l*wl a a^Anfmn flf MYSTERY OF 1 % v BY FIBRaUl CHAPTER d> xobtch an. m lorat. Dr. Chhaotoo had received Caltonli telegram, and waa considerably astonished thereat. Ho was still mora so when, on arriving ai She offloe at the time appointed, be lonnd Oaten and Fitsgeraid were not alone, bat a third man whom he had never wen was with them. Thia latter Calton introduced to him as Mr. EOsip, of the deteotive cffica, a fast which began to make the worthy doctor musty, as he ooold not divine the meaning of the preeenoe of a detootiva Howevar.be made no remark, bat took the seat banded to him by Mr. Chiton and prepared to listen. OaMoo looked the door of the office, and then went baok to his desk, having the other three stated before him In a kind of semicircle. "In the lint piece, * said Chiton to the doctor, "1 have to Inform yoa that yea are one of the executors onder the will of the late lb*. Frettlby, end that is why 1 asked yon to 1?? ammrtnn ma Mr. Fitzgerald aod myielf." **011, indeed," murmured the doctor, politely. "in! anr,*aU Chiton. knilit fUa. Mo you remember the haaaorn cab murder which aaoaed such a sensation come mouthe agof "Yea, I do," replied the doctor, rather as"Bui what haa that to do with the wfiir "Nothing to do with the win," answered Chiton, gravely, "bat the tact la Mr.Frettlby was implicated in the affair." Dr. Chinetou glanced inquiringly at Brian, bat that gentleman shook bis bead. "It* nothing to do with my arrest," ha aid, aadly. "What do yoa meenP he gasped, poshing back his chair. "How was he implioatedP "That 1 cannot tail you," answered Chiton, "until 1 read his ooofsarton." "AhP said fillip, hamming vary attentive. "Yea," add Chiton, turning to EZQsip, "yoor hoot alter Moraiand is a wild goose chase, lor the murderer of Oliver Whyte to discovered." "DieooveredP cried fillip and the doctor in one breath. "Yea, and his name is Mark Frettlby." Cilsip shot a gianoe of disdain out of his bright black eyes and gave a low laagfa of disbelief, bat the doctor pushed back his chair furiooalj and arose to his feel . "This is monstrous," be cried, in a rage "1 wan* hi stflJ and hear tola amnsarion against my dead Maod." "Unfortunately, it is too tree," sold Brian. "X. dart yon say eoT said Chineton. turning angrily on hint. "And you going to marry hie daughterr" "There is only one way to settle the qnee don," said Chiton, coldly. "We most read hto ooofeesion." "But why the detective!" asked the doctor, ungraciously, as ha took bis seat reluctantly "Because 1 want him to bear (Or himself that Mr Frettlby committed the crime, and COM D? an Keep it quiet. ''Not till I*vo arrested him," said QUp, ll^H lllllliull I Bat he's dead," said Brian. -P? y>tt| of Roger Moceland," retorted Klktjx "For he and no other murdered Oliver Whytu" "That's d much mar* likely story," Chin ton said. "1 Cell joa no," said Chltoo vehemently "God knows 1 woakl like to preserve Mark Frettlby4* good name, and it is with this ob>sot 1 bare brought you aO together, i will rsad the oonfeeeioa, and whan you know the truth 1 want yon all to keep silent about it, as Mark Frettlby is dead and tha publication j at his crime oaado no good toanyooa." "1 know," resumed Gallon, addressing the detective, "that yon are fully convinced in your own mind that you ate right and 1 am i wrong, hot what if 1 taO yon that Mark FreStiby died boldlng those very paper: far the auks at wfaiob the crime was ease- i mitSsdl" giMpe face lengthened oocaidarably. "What were the paperaT "The marriage oertifioats of Mark Frettlby and Bnsanns Moore, the woman who died in the back alum." EiMp was saldom astonished, but he wue this time, while Ot Chlnstoo fell hank in his ohair and looked at tha barrister with a ' risusii sort of eaprsedoa "And what's mars," we it on Chiton, trl- j umphantly. "do you know that Morsland went to Frettlby two nights ago and obtainad a osrtain sum for bush money F "Wbatr cried Kikipi "Tea. Morel and, in ooming out of the bo- j tei, evidently saw Frettlby, and threatened to esrpore him unlewhepaid for hisdlenoa" **?? ZIUd to him self, wttb a disappointed look on hie face "Bat Why did Moral and keep still so longr M1 cannot tali you." replied Caltoo, "bat no doubt the oonfe?loo will explain all." "Then for heaven's sake nod it," broke in Br. Chinston, impatiently. 'Tm quits in the dark, and ail yonr talk is Greek to ma" "One moment," mid dngging a bundle from under his chair, and untying it "If yon are right what about thisr and he held up a light ooat vary much soiled and 'weather worn. "Whom is thatr asked Caiton, startled. "Hot Whyte'sf* "Yes, WhyteV repmtsd drip, with great satisfaction. "1 found it in the Etteroy gardens, near the gate that opens to George street East Malbourna It was op in a fir trea" "Then Mr. Frsttlby most have got oat at Powlett street and walked down George street end then through the Fltiroy gardens into town," said Chiton. Chip took no heed of the remark, but took a small bottle out of the pocket of the ooat end held it up. "1 also found this," be add. "Chloroform." cried every one, guesting at ooos that it was the misting boctla "Exactly." said Chip, replacing it "This was the bottle which oontained the poison used by?by?well, call him the murderer. The name of the chemist being on the label, 1 wane to him end found out who bought it Mow. who do you thinkf with a look of "FrettIby," eaid Galtoo, decidedly. "No, jfopahnrti* bant eat Chlnston, greatly excited. "Heitber," retorted the detective, calmly ' I "The moo who purchased tbis woe Oliver Wbyte himself." "Himself f echoed Brian, now thoroughly surprised, u. indeed, were all the otbera "Yea I bod no trouble In finding out that, thanks to the 'Poison act. As 1 knew no one would be so fooliib as to carry chloroform aboat in his pocket for any length of tune, 1 mentioned the day of the murder as the probable date it was bought. The chemist turned ap his book and found that Whyte was-the purchaser." M And what did be buy it forr asked Chlnston. "That's more than Icon tell you," said Kll sip. with a shrug of his shoulders "It's down in the book as being bought for medicinal usee, which may mean anything." "The law requires a witness" observed Colton, oaotioosly. "Who was the witnessf Again Kilsip smiled triumphantly "1 think 1 con guess," said Fitzgerald. -Morelandf Kilsip nodded. "And 1 suppose," remarked Caltou, tn a slightly sarcastic) tone, "that it another ot your proofi against Moreland. Ho knew that Whyte bad chloroform on him, therefore be followed bun that night and murdered himP "Weii, r "It's a lot of nonsense," said the barrister impatiently "There's nothing against Moreland to implicate him. If be killed Whyte, what made him go and see FrettlbyF "Bat," said KLilwp. sagely nodding his band, "if, as Moreland says, be had WhyWs ooat in his possession before the murder, bow is it that 1 should discover it afterwards up a fir tree in the Fitzroy gardens, with an empty chloroform bottle in the pocket!" "He may have been an accomplice," suggested Caltoa "What's the good of all this conjecturing!" aid Chin stop impatiently, now thoroughly tired of the dlscuwioa "Read the confession, and w? will soon know the truth, with out all this talk." CMton a?ted, and all having settled themselves to listen, be began to read what the dead man had written. CHAPTER iXXIM thb oovrzwox. "What I am now about to write is set forth by me so that the true circumstances connected with the 'Hansom Cab Tragedy,' which took place in Melbourne in IS?, may be known. 1 owe a confession, particularly to Brian Fltsger&ld, seeing that be was second of the crime. Although 1 know be was rightfully acquitted of the charge, yet 1 wish him to know all about the case, though 1 am ooovlnoed, from bis altered demeanor to wards ma, that be is better acquainted with it than be chooses to oonfesa In order to account for the murder of Oliver Whyte, 1 get go back to the beginning of my life in L HANSOM CAB. 9 W. HUME. | this oolony, and show bow the series or events ' began which culminated in the oommital of the crime. "Should it be necessary to make this oon Cession public, in the interests of Justice, 1 oaa say nothing against such a oourse being taken; but i would be grateful if it could be suppressed, both on account of my good name and of my dear daughter Margaret, whose love and affection has so soothed and brightened my Ufa "If, however, she should be informed of - the contents of these pages, 1 ask her to deal leniently with the memory of one who was soraly tried and tempted "I name to the oolooy of Victoria, or rather, as it was called then. Mew i Sooth Walaa is the year itt?. 1 had been to a merchant's office in London, but not uselng moob opportunity for advancement, 1 looked about to see if 1 ooald better myself 1 'Mard at this usw land acres, the ocean, and though it was not then the El Dorado wblob It afterwards turned out, and, truth to tall, bad rather a shady oama owing to the transpose tattoo of oonviotk, yet 1 longed to go thera and start a new Ufa Onhappfly. oowrrtr, ' 1 I had not the means to go, and sew nothing better before me than the dreary Ufa at a London clerk, ae tt was impossible mat I could save out of the small salary I got. Just st this tHrrv* however, an old aunt at mine died and toft a few hundred pounds to ate, so. witb this. 1 name oat to Australia, determined to beooma a rich man. I stayed some time in Sydney, and then oanw > ttr to 1 Port Phillip, now eo widely known an Marvelous Melbourne, where 1 intended to pitch my teat I eaw that it was a young and rising colony, though of course, oomiag as 1 ! did, before the days of the gold diggings, 1 never dreamt it woold spring a p. an it bad done sinoe, to a nation. 1 wan careful and saving in tboee days, and indeed, I think it j was the happiest time of my llfa '1 bougnt land whenever I oould scrape the mooej together, and, at the anx> of (he gold rush, wasooosidared waU to do Whesu however, the cry that gold had Deen diaoovered was raised, and the eyes of all the nations were corned to Australia, with her gUtterlng treasures, men pound In I'rom all parts of the world, and the tJoldeii Age* oommenced I began to get den npidly. and was soon pointed out as the wnsitoiest man in the ooiontoa 1 bought a station, and leaving the riotous, feverish Melbourne Ufe, went to Uve on it. i enjoyed raysaJf there, for the wild, open air Ufa had great charms for me, and there was a seasi of freedom to , which 1 had hitherto been a stranger Batman la a gregarious animal, and 1. growing weary of solitude and communings with Mother Nature, came down on a visit to Melbourne, where, with companions as gay as myself, I peat my money freely, and, as the phrase goes, naw life. After confessing that I loved tbe pure Ufe of the ooontry. it sound t strange to say that I enjoyed the wild ill? of the town, but 1 did. 1 was neither a Jaiepb oar a 9k Anthony, and I was dehgtrsad with Bohemia, with its good fellowship and charming sappers, which took place in the email hours of the morning when wit and bamor reigned supreme. It was at one of them suppers that I first met Kosanna Moore, the woman who was destined to corse i my tTltf-mr She was a burlesque actmw. and all tbo young follows in trow dayv war* madly tn love with her She was not exactly what was called beautiful, but there was a brilliancy and fascination about ber which few oould resist Oi first seeing her I did uot admire her much, hut laughed as companions as they raved about her. On i eooming personally acquainted with ber. however. I'found that her powers or fascine ttoo bad not lawn overrated, and ended by railing desperately in love with bar. 1 made inquiries about ber private Ufe, and found that it was irreproachable, as Mm was guarded by a veritable dragon of a mother who woold tot do oos approach ber daughter. I need not tail about my ooortafalp, as thorn phases of a man's Ufe are generally the wune, but it will be suffldect to prove the depth of my paioc cor oar wneo i a* lecgui oaw mined to make bar my wifk It was oo ooo ditioo, however, that the marriage should be kept secret until such time as 1 should choose to rereal it My reaaoo for aoob a coatee ww tbk: my father ?aa atfll aUra, and be. i being a rigic Presbyterian, would never bare forgiven me for baring married a woman of the stage, so, w be was old and feeble, 1 did not wiata him to llaarn that 1 bad done so, fearing that the sboofe would be too mnob for him in hfci then present Mate of health I told Rownna 1 would marry bar, but wanted bar to tear* bar ' mother, wbr ww a perfect fury, and not an , agreeable person to lire with. As I ww rich, young and not bed looking. Roaanna consented, and. dnring an engaj?ement she bad In Sydney. I went over there and mar rled ber She never told ber mother abe had married me; why, 1 do not know, w 1 never laid any restriction oo bar doing e& The mother made a great noise over the matter, but 1 gave Roaanna a large sum of money for ber, and this the old harridan aooepted and left for New Zealand. Kouanna went with me to my station, where we bred es man and wife, though, in Mat* bourne, the ww supposed no be my mutreaa At last, feeling degraded in my own eyes as to the way I was living to the world, 1 wanted to reveal our secret, but this Roaanna would hot consent to. 1 ww astonished at this and oouid never discover the reason, bat in many ways Kotanna ww , an enigma to ma She then grew weary of the quiet country Ufa, and longnd to return to the glitter and glare of footlights This I refused to let ber do. anil from that moment the took a dislike to oca A child l ww bora, and for a tame she was engroased with it, but tooo wearied or die new piny thing, and again pressed me to allow her to return to tbe staga 1 again refused, and we became estranged from one anocber. I grew gloomy and irritable, and wu aoaoe tomed to take long rldee by myself, frw quently being away for (lays. There was a great friend of min? who owned tbe next station, a One. n?nrf?wTi? young fellow called KraoJc Kally witb a gay. sonny disposition. and a wonderful flow of humor When be round 1 was so moco away, thinking Boaanna was only my ml? trees, be began to console ber. and suooeeded I so wall that one day, ou my letorn from a ride, 1 found she baji fled with n^-n, and had taken the child with ber Shu left a letter saying that she had never really oared far me, but bad married me tor my money be would keep our marriafre secret, and was going to return to tbe stage. 1 followed my false friend and false wife down to Melbourne, but arrived too late, as they had just left for England, Disgusted with the manner In which 1 bad been treated. 1 plunged into a whir) of dissipation, trying to drown the memory of my married Ufa My friends, of course, thought that my loss amounted to no more than that of a mistreat, and 1 soon began to doubt that I bad ever bean married, so far away and visionary did my life of the year previous seem. I continued my fast life for about six mouths, when suddenly 1 was arrested upon the brink of destruction by?an angeL 1 sav rh<a advisedly, for tf ever there was an angel upon earth, it was she wbo afterwauxls became my wife. She was the daughter of a doctor, and it was her influence wnicb drew me back from tbe dreary path of protligacy and dissipation. which 1 was then leading. 1 paid bar great attention, and we were. In fact, looked upon as good as engaged, nut 1 knew that i was stilJ linked to that at-cursed woman, and could out ask ber to be my wif& At this second crisis of my life Kate again Intervened, for 1 received a letter from England, which informed me that Kosanuu Moore had been run over in the streets of Loudon, and bad died in an hospital. The writer was a young doctor, wbo bad attended Her. and I wrote home to him, begging bun to send out certificate of bar death, so that 1 might be sure she was no mora He did so, and also ?^y>fnaar) an of the accident, wblCO bad appeared in a newspaper. Then, indeed. 1 felt that 1 was free, and cloning, as 1 thought forever, tbe darkest paj^e of my life's history. 1 began to look forward to the future 1 married again, t?nd my domestic life was a singularly happy one As the oolocy grew greater, with every year 1 became even more wealthy than 1 had been, and was looked up to and. respected by my fallow citizens. When my dear daughter Margaret was born, 1 felt that my cup of happiness was full, but suddenly 1 received a disagreeable reminder of tbe past. Kossana's uyv-her made her appearance one day?a disreputable looking creature, smelling of fin, and in whom 1 oould not recognize the respectably dressed woman who used to aocompany Hossana to tbe theatre 8be had spent long ago all the money i had given her, and sank lower and lower, until fka now lived In a slum off Little Bourke street. 1 made inquiries after the and she told me it was dead. Rosanna had not taken it to England witb bur, but had left it in her mother's charge, and, no doubt, neglect and want of proper nourishment was the cause of its death. There now ?mod to be no link to bind me to the past with the exception of the old hag, who knew wePiing about the marriage. I did not attempt to undeceive her, but agreed to allow i "X know iter Decier iu<ui juu uu, uw young man, doggedly; "and I kuow she would like an end made of this whole miserable business at once. Arrest the murderer and let Lira suffer for his crime." "Well, 1 suppose it must be so," said Chinston, with a sigh, "but it seems very hard that this slur should be cast upon Miss Prettlby." Brian turned a little pala "The sins of the futher are generally visited upon the children by the world," he said, bitterly. "But after tho first pain 1s over, iff new lands among now faces, she will forget the bitter past" "Now that it is settled Moreland is to be arrested," said Calton, "how is it to done? Is he still in Melbourne?" "Rather," said Kilsip, in a satisfied tone. "I've had my eye 011 him for the last two months, and some one is watching him for me now. Trust me, he can't move two steps without my knowing it" "Ah, indeed I" said Calton quickly. "Then do you know if he bus been to the bank and I ber enough to live on II ah* promised never to trouble me again, and to keep quiet about everything which had reference to my connection with her daughter. She promised; readily enough, and went back to her squalid dwelling in the slums, where, for all 1 know, she still lives, as mjoey has been paid to ber regularly every month by my solicitors, 1 beard nothing more about the matter, and now felt quite satisfied that I, had beard the last of Boanna As yean' rolled on things prospered with toe, and so fortunate was i in all speculation! that my , lock became proverbial. Then, idasl when all things seemed to smile upon ma my wife died, and the world has never seemed the cum to me since. 1, however, had my dear daughter to oonsole me, and in her love and affection 1 became reconciled to the loss at my wifa A young Irish gentleman, oaOed Brian Fitsgerald, came out to Awtralia, and 1 soon saw that my daughter was in love with him, and that he reciprocated that affection, whereat Iwas glad, as 1 have always esteemed him highly. 1 looked forward to; their marriage, when suddenly a series at events occurred, which mcst be fresh to lbs memory of those who road these ]?gea. Mr. Oliver Whyte, a gentleman from London, called on me and startled me with the news; ; that my first wife, Rosanna Moore, was stfli' Bring, and that the story of ber death had been an ingenious fabrication in order to de- , eeive ma She had met with an aocident, as stated in the newspaper, and bad been taken to an hospital, where she recovered. The young doctor, who bad sent the certificate of her death, had fallen in love with ber and wanted to many I ber, and had told me that she w&i dead in or- j der that her past life might be obliterated, i The doctor, however, died before the marriage, and Roeanna did not trouble herself about undeceiving ma Elbe was then acting i on the burlesque stage under the name of i 'Musette,' and seemed to liave gained an unenviable notoriety by ber extravagance and Infamy Whyte met ber in London, she > became bis mistress, fie seemed to have j ? wswiWwi inflnannc; nVAP hAP far ib? told him all tier past life and boot her marriage with ma Bar popularity being on the wane in London, aa aba was now growing old, and bad to make way for younger actresses, Whyte propoeed that tbey should come out to the colonies and | extort money from me, /and be had oome to me for that purpose. Tin villain told me all in the coolest manner, and 1, knowing be held the secret of niy life, was unable to resent it I refused to see Roeonna, but told. Whyte 1 would agree to bis termi, which were, first, a large sum of money was to be paid to Rosanna, and secondly, Whyte wanted to marry my daughter. I, at first, absolutely declined to sanction the latter proposal, but as bo threatened to publish the story, and that meant the proclamation to the world of my daughter's Illegitimacy, 1 at last agreed, and be began to pay his ad-' dresses to Madge. She, however, rs-' fused to marry him and told me she was engaged to Fitzgerald, bo after a severe struggle with myself I told Whyte that ii would uot allow him to marry Madge, but i would give him whatever sum he would like to oama On the night he was murdered he' came K> see me, and showed me the certificate of marriage between myself and Rosanna Moore, tie refused to take a sum at, money, and said unless 1 consented to his marriage with Madge he would publish the whole affair 1 implored him to give me time to think, so he said he would give me two days, but no mors, and left tbe house, taking the marriage certificate with him. 1 waa In despair,, and saw that tbe only way to save myself was to obtain possession of tbe marriage certificate and deny everything. With this idea in mv miiui l followed him xiv town and saw' him meet Morelund, and drink with him. i They went into the hotel in Russell street, and when W'hyte came out, at half past) 12, be war intoxicated. 1 saw him go! oat along to the licotch church, near the Burke and Wills monument, and cling to. the lamp post at the oornar. I thought I would then be able to get the certificate from > him, aa he was drunk, when I saw a gentle man In a light ooat?i did not know it was Fitzgerald?come up to him and hail a oab for him 1 saw there was nothing more to be dona at that time, so, in despair, went home and waited lor the next day, la Dear lest he should carry out his determination. Nothing, however, turned up, and 1 was beginning to think thut Why to had abandoned his purpose, when 1 hoard that he had been murdered in the hansom cab. I was in great fear lest the marriage certificate would be found on him, but aa nothing was said about it I began to wonder. 1 knew be had it on. htm, so came to the oonelusion that the murderer, whoever be was, had taken it from the body, and would sooner or later come to me to extort money, knowingtbat 1 dare not denounce him Fitzgerald was arrested, and afterwards acquitted, so I began to think that the oertiflcate tad been lost, and my troubles were at an end. However, 1 was always haunted oy a areaa coat toe swaru wm hanging over my head, and would fall sooner or later. 1 was right, for two nights ago Roger More land, who was an intimate friend of W byte's, called on me and produced the marriage certificate, which be offered to sell to me for five thousand pounds. In horror, I accused him of murdering Wbyte, which he denied at first, but afterwards acknowledged, stating that 1 dare not betray him for my own sake. 1 was nearly mad with the horror 1 was placed in, either to denounce my daughter as illegitimate or let a murderer escape the penalty of his crime. At last 1 agreed to keep silent, and handed Mm a check for ?5,UU) pounds, receiving in return the marriage certificate. 1 then made More land swear to leave the oolony, which be readily agreed to do, saying Melbourne was dangerous. When be left 1 reflected upon the awfulness of my position, and bad almost determined to commit suicide, but, thank God, 1 saved myself from that crime. 1 wrote out this confession in cedar that after- my death the true story of the murder of IVhyte may be known, and that any one who may hereafter be accused of the murder may not be wrongfully punished. JJhave no hopes of Moreland ever receiving the penalty of his crime, as when this is open all trace of him will, no doubt, be %et 1 will not destroy the marriage certificate, but place it with these papers, so : that the truth of my story can be seen. In ! conclusion, 1 would ask forgiveness of my | daughter Margaret for my sins, which have been visited on her, but she can see for herself that circumstances were too strong for ma May she forgive me, as I hope God in his Infinite mere]' will, and may she come sometimes and pray over my grave, nor k?1 tt tinnn hni? Hon/) ffltilflF.* CHAPTER XXXIV. the Hxzroe or justice. Calton's voioe faltered a little when he read those last sad words, and laid Che manuscript down on the table amid a dead silence, which was drat broken by Brian. "Thank God," he said reverently, "thank God that be was innocent of the crimel" "So," said Calton, a little cynically, "the riddle which has perplexed us so long is read, and the Sphinx is silent forever more." "1 knew he was incapable of such a thing," cried Chinston, whom emotion had hitherto kept silent Meanwhile Kilsip listened to these eulogls- > tio remarks on the dead man, and purred to himself, in a satisfied sort of way, Like a cat who baa caught a mouse. "You sue sir," he said, addressing the bar- ! rister, "1 was right after alL" "Yes," answered Calton, frankly, "I acknowledge my defeat, but now" "I'm going to arrest Morelaud right oft," ! said KiLsip. There was a silence for a few moments, and then Calton spoke again. "I suppose it must be so?poor girl?poor glrL" 'Tm very sorry for the young lady myself," said the detective in his soft, low voice, "but you see I cannot let a dangerous criminal escape for a mere matter of sentiment" "Of course not," said Pitzgeralc., sharply.' "Moreland must be arrested right off." "But he will confess everything,'' said Calton, angrily, "and then every one 'rill- know about this first marriage." "Let them," retorted Brian, bitterly. "As soon as sbu is well enough we will marry at once, and leave Australia forever." "But" - ?? > n cashed that check for Ave thousand which Frettlby gave himP "Well, now,*1 observed Kilsip, after a pause, "do you know you rather startled me when you told me he had received a check for that amountP "WhyP "It's such a large one," replied the deteotive, "and had I known what sum lie had paid into his account I should have been auspicious." "Then he has been to the bankP "To his own bank, yes. He went there yesterday afternoon at 2 o'clock?that is, the day after he got it?so it would be sent around to Mr. Frettlby's bank, and would not be returned till next day, and as be died in the meanwhile I expect it hasn't been honored, so Mr. Moreland won't have his money yet" "1 wonder what he'll do," said Chinston. "Go to the manager and kick up a row," aaid Kilsip, coolly, "and tbo manager will no doubt tell him he'd better see the executors." "But, my j;ood frksad, the manager doemt know who tl e executors are," books in GUton, impatiently. "Yoa forget the wfl.1 has yet to be real" "Then he'll tell hln to go to the late Mr. u I mnnnM ha kvm rrewtiuy wuwaw**. * . who they are," retorted Kialijx "Thinton & Tar bet," said Calton, motIngly, "but it's questionable 1/ Moreland would go to them." "Why shouldn't he, sirf aaid Kilsip, quickly. "He does not know anything about this," laying his hand on the oonfas- ( sion, "and as the check is genuine enough he ! wont let ?5,000 go without a struggle." "I'll tell you what." observed Calton, after a few moments of reflection, "I'll go send rd to Thinton & Tarbet, and when he calls ou them they can send him up to ma" "A very good Idea," said Kilsip, rubbing his hands, "and then I can arrest him." "But the warrantr interposed Brian, as Calton arose and put on his hat. "Is here," said the detective, producing it "By Jove, yon most have been pretty certain of his guilt" remarked Chinston, dryly. "Of courso I was," retorted Kilsip, in a satisfied tone of voice. "When 1 told the magistrate where 1 found the coat, and reminded him of foreland's acknowledgment at the trial, that he hod it in bis possession before the murder, I soon got him to see the necessity of having Moreland arrested." "Half-past *," said Calton, pausing for a j moment at the door and looking at his watch. "I'm afraid it's rather late to catch Moreland today; however, Til eee what Thinton & Tarbet know," and be went out The rest sat waiting h{g return, and chatted about the curious end of the hansom cab mystery, when, in about ten minutes, Calton j rushed in hurriedly and closed the door after him quickly. "Fate is playing into our hands," he said, as toou as he recovered his breath "More- , land callel on Thinton & Tarbet, as Kilsip surmised, and as neither of them were in, said he would call again before 5 o'clock. I j told the clerk to bring him up to me at onoe, so he may be here at any moment" . ! 'That is, if he's foolish enough to come," j observed Chinston. "Oh, he'll come," said the detective confidently, n .tiling a pair of handcuffii together. "Be is so satisfied that he has made things ' safe that he'll walk right intoAhe trap." It was getting a little dusk, and the four men were greatly excited, though they cos- 1 coaled it under an assumed nonchalanoe. "What a situation for a drama," said j Brian. "Only," said Chinston, quietly, "it is as : realistic is in the old days of the Coliseum, where the actor who played Orpheus was torn to pieces by bears at the end of the ! play." "His hist appearance on any stage, I sup- ) pose," said Caltou, a little cruelly. It. must be confessed Meanwhile Kilslp remained seated in his j chair, humming an operatio air and chink- j Lag the tiandcuffs together by way of aooom- i panimeut He felt intensely pleased with himself, the more so as he saw that by this j capture he would be ranked far above Gorby. "And what would Gorby ?ayi?Gorby who j had laughed at all his ideas as foolish, and j who bad been quite wrong from the first j If only*?? "HushT said Caltou, holding op his finger, as steps were heard echoing on the flags out- j side. "Here he to, I believe." Kllsip aroee from his onatr, und stealing eoftly to the window, looked oautiously oat j Then be turned round to thoee Inside and, nodding his head, slipped the handcuffs into J Us pocket Just as he did so, there was a knock s.t the door, and, in response to Gal- j ton's Invitation to enter, Thin ton Sc TavbePs j clerk came in with Roger Moreland. The j latter faltered a little on the threshold, when ' be saw Calton was not alone, and eeemad ! half inclined to retreat Bat, uvidently, j thinking there was no danger of his secret ' being discovered, he pulled himself together, I and advanced into the room in an easy and , ! oonfldeat manner. "Thi i 1b the gentleman who wants to know ; | about the check, air," said Thin ton <fc Tar- j bet's cl irk to Calton. "Oh, indeed," answered Calton, quietly. ' "I am glad to see him; you can go." j The olerk bowed and went out, closing the i door alter him. Moreland took his seat di-1 j rectly in front of Calton, and with his back to the door. Kilsip, seeing this, slxolled j across the room in a nonchalant manner, j while 'ZJalton engaged Moreland in conversation, and quietly turned the key. ' j "You want to see me, sir?" said Calton, ra- j suminj his beat. j "Yes; that Is, alone," replied Moreland, | uneasily. ! j "Oh, these gentleman are all my friends," j aid (Walton, quietly; "anything you may ay is quite safe" "That they are your friends, and are quite ! safe, is nothing to me," said Moreland, inao- i lently. "I wish to speak to you in private." j "Dent you think yon would like to know my friends?" said Calton ooolly, taking no notice of his remark. "D-? your friends, sir P cried Moreland, furiously, rising from his feet Calson laughed, and introdaoed:Hr. Moreland go the others. "Dr. Chins ton, Mr. Kilsip, and?Mr. Pitagerald." "Fitzgerald," gasped Moreland, jfrowing J pale. "1?1?what's that?" he shrieked, as ; he saw Whyte's coat, all weather stained, lying on a chair near him, and which bo immediately recognized. "That is the rope that's going to bong you," said Kilsip, quietly, coming behind him, "for the murder of Oliver Whyte." "Trapped, by O J" shouted the wretched man, wheeling round, so as to face- Kilsip ne sprung uc vue udwcutb i varum,, auu uiaj both rolled together on the floor, but the letter was too strong for him, and, after a sharp struggle, be succeeded in getting the handcuff! on More land's wrists. The ethers stood arotnd perfectly quiet, knowing that Kilslp required no assistance. Now that there wan qo possibility of escape, Moreland seemed to become resigned, and rose sullenly off thb flooi u u And they both rnlUd' togethtr on'tn? /locr i "By G? I I'll make you pay for this," hehissed between his teeth, with a white despairing face. "You can't prove anything;.* "Can't wof said Col ton, touching the con- , fessiou. "You are wrong. This is theoonfeiBiou of Mark Frettlby made before be< dldd." "It's a d d lie." "A jury will decide that," uaid the'bonis txr dryly "Meanwhile you will pass the night in the Melbourne jaiL" "Ah I Perhups they'll give me the same cell as you occupied," said Moreland, witli a , hard laugh, turning to Fitzgerald. "I.shoald 1 like it for its old associations." Brian did not answer him, but, picking up his hat and gloves, prepared to go. "Stop I" cried Morelaud, fiercely. "I see that it is all up with me, so I'm not going to lie like u coward. I've played for a big stake and lost, but if 1 hadn't been such a fool I'd have cashed that check next morning, and been far away by this time." "It would certainly have beoa? wiser,"-nald Galton. "After all," said Moreland, nonchalantly, taking no notice of this remark, "I don't* i !:now that I'm sorry about It. I've-bad a liell upon earth since I killed Whyte." "Then you acknowledge your guiltl" said Brian, quiotly Moreland shrugged his shoulders. "1 told you 1 wasn't a coward," he answered, coolly "Yes, 1 did it. itwasWhyte's own fault. When 1 met him that uigbt be told how Frettlby wouldn't lot him marry his . daughter, but said that he'd make him, and - showed me the marriage certificate. T thought If 1 could only get it Fd mate a nice little pile out of Frettlbv over it, to when Whyte went on drinking 1 did not, After he hmi gone out of the hotel, 1 put on his coat, which be left behind, i aaw bim standing -sear the lamp poet, and Fitsger&ld come up and then leave him. When you came down the street," he weut on, turning to Fitzgerald. "1 shrunk back into the shadow, and when you passed 1 ran up to Whyte an the ohman was putting him into tha hansom He took me for you, so 1 didn't undeceive him, but 1 swear I bad no Idea of murdering Whyte when 1 got iuto the cab. 1 tried to get the papers, but be wouldn't let me. and commenced to slug out Then 1 thought of the chloroform in the pocket of his coat, which 1 was wearing. 1 pulled it out, and found that the cork was loose. Theo-1 took out Whyte's. handkercnief, which was also in the cost, and emptied the bottle on it? and put It back In my pocket I again tried to gat the papers, without using the chloroform, bat ooaidnt, so 1 clapped the handkerchief over his month, and be went off after a few minutes, and 1 got the papers 1 thought bo was only Insensible, and it was only when 1 saw the newspaper that 1 knew, he was dead. 1 stopped the cab in Ht Hilda road, got oat and caught another cab, which was going to town. Then i got oat at Powlatt street, took off tile coat, and carried il ov &r my arm 1 went down George street* toward the Kiuroy gardens, and having h'd the ooat op a tree, wtaei-e 1 suppose yon fouCr, it," to Cilslp, ,41 walked home?so I've done yon all ninety, but" "You're caught at last," finished Ehlslp, quietly. Moreland fell down in a chair, with an air of utter weariness and lassitude. "No man cau be stronger than Destiny," he laid, dreamily "1 have icxre anu you Have won. so life is a chess bioni, after all, and we are the puppets of Paia " E!e refused to utter another word; so, tearing Calton and Kilsip with him, Brian and the doctor went out and bailed a cab. It drove up to the entrance of (he court when CaJton's office was, and then Moreland, walking as if in a dream, left, the room, and got into the cab, followed by Kilsip. "Do you know," said Chinston, thoughtfully, as they stood and watched the cab drive off, "do you know what the end at tbc.t man will beP "It require* no prophet t) foretell that,'* said Calton, dryly. "He will be hanged." "No, be won*t," retorted tlie doctor. "He will commit suicide." CHAPTER VttV ; "THE LOVB THAT livm." There are certain periods In the life of men when fate seems to have done her worst, and any further misfortunes which may befall are accepted with a philosophical resignation, begotten by the very severity of previous trials. Fitzgerald was in this state of mind, ?he was calm, but it was the calmness of dispeir?the misfortunes of the past year seemed to have come to a climax, and he looked forward to the publication of the whole bitter story with an indifference that, surprised himself. His own name and that oil Madge and ber dead father would be on s'rsry tongue, yet be felt perfectly callous to w hatever might be said on the subject As long as Madge recovered, and they could go away to another part of the world, leaving Australia, with its bitter memories, behind, be did not care Moreland would suffer the bitter penalty of his crime, and then nothing more would ever be heard of the nu tter. It, uoold be better for the whole story to be told, and momentary pain endured, than to CP on striving to hide the infamy and shame irhlcb might be discovered at any moment. iUreody the news was all over Melbourne that the murderer of Oliver Whytt had been captured, ami that his oonfessioa would bring to light certain startling facts concerning the late Mark FYsCtlby Brian well knew that the world winked at secret vioes as long ss there ni an attempt at ooooeaiment, tnougn It was cruelly never* oc those which ware brought to light, and that many whose Uvea might be anomtly Car mora oolpsible than poor Mark Frnttlby's would ha the first to the dead man. The public curiosity, however, wns destined never to be gratified, for the next day ltbeoama known thatRogar Moraland hi id hanged himself in hie cell dar ing the nigbit, and had left no coafadca behind Htn When Brian heard thia be breathed a heartfelt prayer of thanks for his deliverance, and want to see Calton. whom he found at his chambers, in deep conversation with Chlnetoo and Kildp They all cams to the conclusion that as Moraland was now dead nothing could be gained by publishing the oonfeaaion of Mark Frettlby: so agreed to burn It, and when Fitzgerald saw in the heap of blackened paper in tbp fireplace ail that remained of the bitter story be felt a weight lifted off hie heart The barrister, Ohlnstoo and KUaip, all promised to keep silent on the subject, arid they kept the promise nobly, for nothing was ever known of the circumstances which led to tbe death of Oliver VFbyte, and it was generally supposed that it must have been caused by some quarrel between the dead man and bis friend. Roger Mo re land Fitzgerald, however did not forget the' good service that ?11*1 p had dons him, and gave him a sum ol money which made him independent for life, though he still followed his old profession of a detective from sheer lova of excitement, and was always looked upon with admiration u? the may who had solved the mystery of r tie famous hanuom cab murder Brian, afn-i several consultations with Calton, at last came to tbe oonclu sion that it would be no use to reveal tc Sal Rawlins the fact that she was Mark Frettlby's J ?-? 1 ?Ill Ik. n.nnao UOU^UUU , no kJJ IUC n IU WW wuu?/ vroa clearly left to Madge, and cacti a revelation could bring ber no pecuniary benefit, while her bringing up unfitted bar for bar position. no a yearly Income, more than sufficient for ber wants, wax settled upon ber, and she wai allowed to remain in ignorance ol bei parentage The influence of 8a. Rawlins1 old lite, however, was very strong on her. and she devoted her self tc the task of saving ber fallen sisters. Knowing, as she did, all llie Intricacies of the slums, she was euablitl to do an immense amount of good, and many an unhappy woman was saved from the squalor and hardship of a gutter life by the kind hand of Sal Rawliua Felix Kolleston became a member of parliament. where his speeches, if not very deep, were at leust amusing, i-nl while In the boose always behaved like .. gentleman, which could not be said about ail his parliamentary colleagues. Madge slowly recovered from her 1 llneai, ?nH ae she bad been implicitly named in ttie will as heiress to Mark Frettlby's great weaitb she placed the management of her estates In the bands of Mr Calton, who, with Thin ton & Tarbct, acted as her agents iin Australia Ou ber recovery she learned tlze story of her father's early marriage, but bad) Calton and Fitzgerald were silent about th# fact of Sal Rawlins being her half sister, as such a revelation could do no good, and would only create a scandal, as no explanation could be given except the true ona Shortly afterward Madge married Fitzgerald, and both of them only too gladly left Australia, with ail its sorrows and bitter memories. Standing with ber husband on the deck of one of the P and 0. steamers, as it nlowed the blue waters of Hobsou's bay into room, they both watched Melbourne as it gradiailly faded from their view, under the glow of the sunset They could see the two domes of the exhibition, and the law courts, and also government house, with Its 'iii tower rising from tho mu.vt of the groen trees. In the background was a bright crimson sky, barred with masses of bLack clouds, uud over all tno great city hung a cloud of smoke like a palL The glaring red light of the sinking sun glared angrily on the heavy waters, and the steamer seemed to be making its way through a sea of blood. Madge, clinging to her husband's arm, felt her eyes fill with team, as she saw tho laud of her birth receding slowly. "Good-by," she murmured softly. "Gx>dby forever." "You do not regret!" he said, bending his hftflA "Regret, no," she answered, looking; at him with loving eyea "With you by my side, I fear nothing. Surely our hearts liave been tried in the furnace of affliction, ?nd our love bus been chastened and puriflod." "We are sure of nothing in thia world," replied Brian, with a sigh. "But after all the sorrow and grief of the past let us hope that the future will be i>eace." "Peace/" A white winged sen gull arose suddenly from the crimson waters, and circled rapidly in the air ubovo them. "A happy omen," she said, looking up fondly to the crave face of her husband, "for your life and for mine." He bent down and kissed her. The great steamer moved slowly out to sea, and us they stood on the deck, hand ciiisjhxi in hand, with the fresh suit breeze blowing keeuiy in their faces, it bore them away into the placid bouuty of the coming night, towards tbo old world and the new life. tok kn'd. (iooil ualhit. like a Iter, collects honey from every lirrh. Ill-nature, like a s?|i(ler. sucks poison from tlie sweetest llower. Jjftiscdlancoua fading. SMILE WHENEVER YOU CAN. When things don't go to suit you, And the world seems upside down, Don't waste your time iu fretting, But drive away that frown ; Since life is oft pei^lexing, 'Tis much the wisest plan To l>earall trials bravely And smile when'er you can. Why should you dread the morrow, And thus despoil to-day? For when you borrow trouble You always have to pay. It is a good old maxim, i Which should be often preached? Don't cross the bridge before you Until the bridge is reached. You might he spared much sighing If you would keep in mind i The thought that good and evil Are always here combined. There must Ihj something wanting, ' And though you roll in wealth, < You may miss from your casket j That precious jewel?health. i And though you're Htrongand sturdy, You may have an empty purse (And earth has many trials Which I consider worse;) Hut whether Joy or sorrow Kill your mortal span, - 'Twill make your pathway brighter ; . To smile whene'er you.can. ?.Selected. LINCOLN IN COURT. . i HO W HE HEC1UED A CASE WITH ONE V VEST I ON. When Abraham Lincoln was praci ticing at the bar before Judge Davis I (afterward justice of the United States I supreme court), a rather startling incident happened at one of the neigh1 boring villages. Some kind of a re1 ligious meeting was being held. The j weather was warm and the church i windows were open. Somebody outj side threw a live duck through the I window, to the great consternation of some of the congregation aud the mer! riment of the trifling. "It was a flagrant and malicious breach of the law which protects re| ligious meetings. Suspicion fell upon ! two young men of respectable family ; who were not in the church, but were | known to be in its immediate vicinity j at the time of the outruge. One of j these young men went to the county ! prosecuting attorney and swore out an j affidavit agaist his companion. The i case was brought before the local squire, j but under legal advice the young man j waived preliminary examination, and 1 was held under quite considerable I bonds at the next circuit court at j Springfield. i "The parents of the accused were in I very great distress at the vexatious j and degrading predicament in which I their son was placed. They went to j Lincoln uml offered him a retainer. I vmi satisfied that VOU1' SOU is i innocent?' was Mr. Lincoln's first quesI tion. The parents suid they were satj isfied of it. j "Then.' said the ftiture president, I 'let me have an hour's private eonfer| ence with the boy, after which I will ! tell you whether or not I will accept j your retainer.' j "The young man duly appeared at , Mr. Lincoln's office, and an interview ! of the most privute nature took place between them. "When the day of trial arrived there | was a full court-room, for the friends and neighbors of the parties concerned flocked to Springfield to be present at the trial. The prosecutor was a very little man, who lisped abominably. He did not feel himself big enough for the case, so he employed a lawyer to : assist him as big us Judge Davis hiinj self, but who, unlike the judge, had a voice as sonorous as a fog-horn, "Lincoln sat quietly at one of the | tables in the bar, busily engaged in writing out a brief of some case enj tirely foreign to the one in hand. The case was called. Lincoln rose with j culm dignity and said, 'Your honor, I ! appeur for the defendant.' Then he | sat down and coolly resumed his writing. "The jury was impuniieled, but Mr. ' Lincoln had no objection to make to j any one of them. The prosecution uc| cepted the jury, wondering what on j earth Lincoln's game should be. The I big ussistunt prosecutor made the openj ing address to the jury, und fulminated against the defendant in the ap| proved style of prosecuting counsel. 1 Lincoln went on with his writing. { Witness after witness was called for j the prosecution, but when they were i turned over to Lincoln he hud noquesj tion to ask them. He suid so, and j quietly resumed his work on that interminable brief. "Then us a coup de grace the proseI curing witness wus put upon the stand. He was u w ily witness. His testimony was apparently a perfect chain. It | was delivered coolly, calmly and with J an assumption of candor. The wit; ness was sometimes reticent, and had i to he drawn out by the little prosecuti or when his evidence was damnatory i of the defendant. At last his exami| nation in chief was concluded, and the i prosecutor said, with an air of triumph, ! *Mr. Lincoln, take the witness.' i "Mr. Lincoln stopped his writing ut j once, threw his feet upon the table, I and, looking steadfastly at the witness | (who was bracing himself for the usual j ordeal of cross-examination), said sol em nly: 'Young man, is it customary in | your village to get upon the witness ; stand and swear to a lie?' "The witness was staggered, and i Hushed in the face blood red. The lil; tie prosecutor shrieked in shrill alto, j accompanied by his colleague in sonoi rous bass, 'Your honor, I object.' Then ' the two raised a little Babel, in which the words'unseemly' and 'outrageous' I were mainly distinguishable, j "'Mr. Lincoln,' said Judge Davis, i 'have you any special reason to use i that language?' I "'I have, your Honor.' replied Lincoln. j "Then,' said the judge, 'you may proceed with the ipicstion, ami the witness must answer yes or no.' "Mr. Lincoln repeated the question in the same calm manner in which he had before propounded it. The witness choked and gasped, and when the judge calmly insisted again that he should answer it. he fainted. '"Take him in the sheriff's room,' said Judge Davis, adding, saenslically : The weather is very sultry. The . house is very clos'e. The atmosphere is too much for the young man. Mr. clerk, call the next case.' "Lincoln had resumed the writing of his brief, and when some of the witnessess came to liiin ami asked him if they might go home, he answered that the case was over, and those who did not want to stay need not do so. "He was right ; the case was over. Shortly afterward Judge Davis, at the request of the prosecuting witness, was called into the sheriff's room, when the young man confessed that he himself threw the duck in at the church window, lie said that he ami the defendant had both been paying attention to the same irirl. and he had been discarded. In revenge lor tin* triumph of his successful rival, lie had trumpet! up this charge, ami by the aid of confederates hail hoped to sucecsfully sustain it in court." AICTICI.KS KOPNII IN t'uTTON B.U.KS. According to the Providence (K. I.) Journal, at the W'nmpauoag mills. Fall River Mass.. not long ago. the workmen in the picker room stopped a package of matches just as the bundle was disappearing into the picker. It had come out of a cotton bale the men had just opened. Had they from* into the machine, there would have been a lively blaze. Speaking of this incident. a man, who has tended a picker for several years, said that the things which ; come out of a cotton bale, and evidentj ly grow on bushes, would astonish one. ! One day he henrd something grind inside the picker, and stopping the machine. found a silver spoon. Lizzards and small snakes were common. A set of false teeth, small coins, knives, tobacco, and occasionally articles of more value have been found. These things undoubtedly get inside the bales accidentally, but there are other things which evidently get inside in accordance with a fixed purpose, and by strange coincidences they are found to weigh more than cotton, and net to be worth as much per pound on the market. Sand, scraps of iron, and dirt are often found wrapped inside of a cotton bale for ballast. ARTHUR P. GORMAN. Washington, January 24.?"For president, Arthur P. Gorman, of Maryland ; for vice president, Isaac P. Gray of Indiana." This, with the addition "in 1892," was what a distinguished ? i i - ii - - il Democratic senator wrote me oiner duy on his visiting card, and suggestively handed it around to some of his party associates. They all smiled, as we smile when our thoughts suddenly confront us in another man's words with a sense of recognition beyond that of meeting old friends. For they had all been thinking of this, or something like it, the variation being invariably in the name of the candidate for vice president. One had thought of Campbell of Ohio; auother of Dickenson, of Michigan ; and a third of Boies, of Iowa, for the second place on the ticket. No one of them was expressing his preference, mind you, for one was a Cleveland man and the rest were not committed. But the interesting thought had occurred to every mind that if Cleveland should not be nominated Gorman might be. It is curious to observe how general has been the spread of this idea during the fighting days. It is not confined to the senate. It has been fouud all over the Democratic side of the house. Gradually the fact that Gorman is a great leader has gotten into the dullest or the most reluctant mind, and as great leaders are rare?even in the Democratic party?it has been the most natural thing in the world to go on from this to the belief that Gorman is a presidential possibility. As a disinterested observer from tlie gallery, I am compelled to say that Gorman has demonstrated by hard lighting under most difficult conditions that he is the man to lead the Democratic party in Congress. Yet this 4 ~ Un ??4 41. : 4.^ o.... T 10 i?c a (iirnt uiiu^ iuw\ touch i look down und see Carlisle and Gray, Vest and Harris, Morgan and McPherson sitting beside him, to say nothing of Mills and Crisp, the Breckenridges and McMillin in the house. It is not strange that Gorman has had to wait for the recognition of his ?reat talents, for he had to make his way through ranks of strong men to the front of his own side before even engaging the enemy. But there he is?the foremost man of all, and that not by aeccident, not by capricious choice, but as the man accorded the place by the general voice of his colleagues. GORMAN'S WONDERFUL SUCCESS. Gorman's success is the more wonderful when you consider how little he owes to formal education. At thirteen, an age when most of his colleagues who are in the front ranks of the senate, were about beginning their actual education, Gorman began life. Several of the present members of the senate can remember him as a page running on their errands. His face in itself has made it difficult for them to recognize his greatness, just as I am told the social leaders in Baltimore do not recognize it because he has not been a society mun ull his life. As a page in the senate, Gorman got, of course, a practical education in affairs such us schools and colleges cannot give, but, nevertheless, it lacked much that ' * -- 1 11 11 1 scnoois unci conegvs count nave given him, unci which would have proved invulunhle to him in his competition with the representatives of States later on. What developed Gorman and made his senatorial success possible, was an inborn love of books which made him a student as no college unaided could have done. Senators are astonished at the erudition displayed in his speeches. But friends who know his librury and bis control over it, are not surprised. Gorman, it should be remembered always, is a man of most tempcrute and regular life. He drinks nothing stronger than Apollinaris, and smokes few, if any cigars. He spends his leisure time at home with his family and his books. This is why he is so well, so calm and ready. Yes, I know he has an equable and cheerful temperament; but this might be spoiled by hot living, such as some of our statesmen indulge. Gorman might be adequately described as a lover of his family and his library. HE HAS STl'DIKD HOOKS AND MEN. Coincidently with his study of books has gone his study of men and atluirs. 1 think that there is nothing iu politics, practical or theoretical, that Gorman does not know, If there is, and any need arises, Gormun will master it as he has mustered the senate rules. From this rough outline you can make the picture of Gorman's equipment for the work he is now doing so successfully. In its process he is becoming an orator, for it is still true that an orator may be made, although it is also true that orators, as well as poets, are born. Gorman does not know bow to manage his voice, never having had any elocutionary training, and so speaks to his own disadvantage in hollow bead notes, which are costly and comparaI tively inetfeetive. But he knows what i to say and how to say it, and say it lie ! does fluently and forcibly. He does ! not flounder or falter like Sherman, i nor hesitate and stammer like Plumb, i He is soself-possessed that lie can bear i interrupt ions--yes, and turn them to l the advantage of his speech. He stands easily, and gesticulates grace' fully. He never becomes nervous or I flustered, but is always at the point of | smiling. His self-content is great. But j that does not explain his manner. Bej hind all is his good temper and his ' ready powers. His dignity is natural. like his earnestness. Tlnye is no witi tier mail in the senate: but few men I in or out of the senate know that fact. ' for Gorman knows how fatal wit is to senatorial success. His humor and his sense of humor save him. though, from all the follies and faults of those who have them not. and cushion him against the blows of tort line. AN IX'l'KltKSTINil SltiUT. It is a most interesting sight to watch (ionium leading his forces in a hot and heavy battle, such as wc saw in the senate on Wednesday when lie exhibited all his masterly strategy. If you did not know the contrary you would suppose him merely a disinterested observer. He seems far more so than the enthusiastic partisans in the gallery, who are constantly breaking the senate rules with applause to the gread indignation of the side which they are not applauding. He looks just as placid ami happy as ever. He does not sit like Hoar in one position, straining his nerves to a tense attention. He walks in ami out of the cloak room, or walks over casually to confer with Teller or Woleott or Stewart. or some other ally on the Republican side, so naturally and quietly that lie might In* a page again for all be seems to eare, or he sits in his seat talking cheerfully or listening politely while he puts up now this, now that Democrat with whispered suggestion to answer or attack. If need be, cs peciully if the position or nis siae must be stated, or some especially clever tactics tried, he rises himself and speaks with earnestness but without excitement?speaks just enough and then sits down, signaling some other Democrat to take up the thread. His authority is recognized and obeyed by them all. This of itself, considering the men who acknowledge it, is proof of his greatness. Better proof still is the unchanging modesty with which he executes the trusts of leadership. His head is just its normal size; his greeting is just as cordial as ever; his willingness to serve you as great. Altogether, it is not strange that those who have watched this man most carefully in the most trying situations and have seen him equal to all trials, equal and equitable in all circumstances, never surprised and never blundering' in all the sudden and perplexing phases of a great parliamentary conflict, look to him as one who may conquer vic tory for his party on a wider field. HOW MANY CONFEDERATE SOLDIERS ? T?-> imiif iauim nf flip 12t,h. VOU nub lished a letter from your Washington correspondent) fi. R -#pcor, on-**W?r~ Statistics," in which he gives some very remarkable figures, compiled from the book of Col. Wm. T. Fox, which was published about two y&ars ago. Col. Fox, whose book I have had since its first publication, is an able, painstaking writer, and I doubt not, has tried to be fair and accurate. But he makes some very ludicrous blunders, into which he has led your very excellent correspondent, several of which I should be glad to notice. Your correspondent says: "Two thousand regiments, containing 2,778,304 men, constituted the Union armies during the civil war. The Confederate muster rolls are incomplete, and so it is impossible to get an exact roster of the troops of that side, but it is estimated that first and last, 1,640,000 Southerners were under arms." I doubt not that the statement in reference to the Federal armies is correct, and will not take the trouble to verify it by the oflicial reports, which are easily accessible to all. But the statement that there were 1,630,(XX), Confederates enlisted, misses the mark by a cool 1,040,000, as 600,000 will cover every man that was enlisted under the Confederate flag during the four years of war. Any one interested in this question. of relative numbers will find it very fully discussed in the Southern Historical Society papers, fourteen volumes of which I had the privilege of editing while secretary of the Southern Historical Society, and such writers as Geu. J. A. Early, Col. Chas. Marshall, and Col. Walter Taylor, of Lee's staff; Col. Wm. Allan, of Stonewall Jackson's staff and others, have brought out so clearly,as to place it beyond all dispute, the immense odds in numbers and rej sources, against which the Confederates fought. But in vol. vii, pp. 287-289, S. H. S. papers will be found a correspondence between Dr. Jos. Jones, of New Orleans, the first secretary of the society, and one widely known for his painstaking research and conscientious accuracy, and Gen. Samuel Cooper, the old adjutant and inspector general of the Confederacy, which seems to me to settle beyond peradventure the question of the number of men tnat were ennstea ior the Confederate armies. Without giving the details, I quote the conclusion reached by Dr. Jones after the most careful investigation and study of the figures, which is fully endorsed and corroborated by Gen. Cooper. It was as follows: "The available Confederate force capable of active service in the field did not, during the entire war, exceed 600,000 men. Of this nbmber not more than | 400,000 were enrolled at any one time, and the Confederate States never had in the field more than 200,000 men capable of bearing arms at any one time, exclusive of sick, wounded and disabled." This estimate is from the very highest authority and is fully sustained by others of our ablest and painstaking Confederate writers. I say Confederate, for I know of no Federal writer who does not greatly exaggerate our numbers. It is useless to speculate now on "what might have been,''but it is very safe to say (in the light of what they accomplished with their 600,000 men) that if the Confederates had been able to muster during the war, 1,640,000 soldiers, the result would have been J very different. Indeed it is not putting it too strong to say that with that number, we should have dictated terms of peace in Central Park, New York, or on Boston Common.?I)r. J. Win. Jones in Atlanta Journal. MUSTY NOMENCLATURE. The Sunday News published an in[ teresting account of how the counties of the State received their names. The News says: The sources from which the names of the counties were drawn seem to have been first, the Lords Proprietors; second. Revolutionary characters; third, great men of families of a later day ; ami fourth, from the freak or fancy of the first settlers, or from the geographical position or physical advantages of the territory. "Simms's Geography of South Carolina," (1642,) and a number of individuals have been freely consulted in the preparation of this list, which makes no pretension to entire accuracy, but is probably the most correct yet published. Abbeville is supposed to have been so named after a town in France, by French emigrants in 1768. Aiken is said to have been so named in honor of Governor William Aiken, who, as a director of the South Carolina railway, considerably advanced the interests of that section. Anderson?After Gen. Robert An.l..?w'/.i. ., imrl icin <n|ilii.f (if I lit* Revolution. Rarnwell?After the Barnwell family, distinguished in the civil and mili. tary history of the State for twoeentu1 ries. Beaufort?After Henry. Duke of I Beaufort, Lord Palatine of the colony. I Berkeley?After two of the Lords , Proprietors?.John, Lord Berkeley, and I Sir William Berkely. Knt. Charleston?After Charles II. . Chester?Settled in part hy emigrants from Chester county, Pa., who gave ; the name of the old home to the new. | ('hesterlield ?Settled, like Chester, ill i part hy emigrants from Pennsylvania. ; Said to derive its name from the famous j Karl of Chesterliehl. Clarendon?After Kdward. Karl of Clarendon, Lord High Chancellor of i Kngland: one of the Lords Projtrietors. Colleton?After Sir John Colleton, one of the Lords Proprietors. Darlington?Name prohahly derived from that of Col. Darlington, a favor! ile leader in tin- war of the Revolution." Kdgelield-?Name presumed to be , derived from its geographical position on the edge of the State and adjoining the State ofHeorgia." Florence'?After the town of the same name, which is said to have been called after Florence, daughter of Hen. II a rl lee. Fairlield Probably from its natural attractions. Lord Cornwallis said ol Fairlield in 17S0 : can conceive of no fairer region, taking into consideration its fertile soil, beautiful valleys and glorious highlands." (Jrccnville -"The face of the couii, try. verdant and picturesque, is sup pUSCU Ml UOYC ICU iv vuv ?the name." Georgetown?Probably, after King George I. Hampton?After Wade Hampton, General C. 8. A., and governor of South Carolina, 1876. Horry?After General Horry, of the war of the Revolution. Kershaw?After Col. Joseph Kershaw, who settled Camden (Pine Tree) in 1758. Lancaster?Settled in part by emi- \ grants from Lancaster county, Pa., who so named their new home. Laurens?So named in honor of Henry Laurens, the Revolutionary patriot. Lexington?"The present name of the county was a tribute to the people of Lexington in Massachusetts." Marion?Named after Gen. Francis Marion, some of whose most remarkable successes were within the borders of the present county. Marlboro?Supposed to have been so named in honor of the Duke of Marl | uuruugii. Newberry?Probably so called after a captain of tbat name in Sumter's State troops.. Judge O'Neall preferred to believe the name to have been suggested by the beautiftil appearance of the country, "pretty as a new berry." Orangeburg?So named after the Prince of Orange, whose former subjects first settled the county. Oconee?So named after the Ocooees, (Brown Vipers,) a minor tribe of Cherokees, who formerly lived in that section. Pickens?After Gen. Andrew Pickens, the distinguished partisan soldier. Richland?"Its name is supposed," says Simms, "to have been given in' compliment to its rich soils. Possibly called after a plantation of the same name belonging to the Taylor ftunily." Sumter?After Gen. Thomas Sumter of the war of the Revolution. Spartanburg?So named after "The Spartan Company," an independent organization, which, under Capt. Roebuck, distinguished itself in the war of the Revolution. Union?After Union church, on Brown Creek, four miles from the present town. Williamsburg?Settled in the main by Scotch-Irish Presbyterians, who were ardently devoted to William III, King of England. York?Settled in part by emigrants from York County, Pa., who brought the name with them. 7? ' A Quick-Witted Lawyer.?In a Western court a witness had been detailing, with great minuteness, certain conversations which had occurred several years before. Again and again the witness testified to names and dates, and precise words, and it became necessary for his cross-examiner to break him up. This was done by a very simple device. While the witness was glibly rattling off his testimony, the cross-examiner handed him a law book, and said: "Read aloud a paragraph from that"* book." "What for?" inquired the witness. "I will tell you after you have read it," said the lawyer; and the witness accordingly read aloud a paragraph of most uninteresting material about land, appurtenances, and hereditaments. Then the lawyer went on and asked him a few more questions about his memory, and the witness was positive that his memory was very good. Suddenly the lawyer said: "By the way, will you please repeat that paragraph you just read about lands, appurtenances, and hereditaments ?" "Why of course I could not do that," replied the witness. "You must have a queer memory," retorted the lawyer, "since you can repeat things that you say occurred years ago, and you cannot repeat what you read a moment ago." The witness was nonplussed. What is a Horse Power.?When [ men first begin to become familiar with the methods of measuring mechanical power, they often speculate on where the breed of horses is to be found that can Jceep at work raising thirty-three thousand pounds one foot per minute, or the equivalent, which io mnru familiar tn (UlltlP mechanics, of raising three hundred and thirty pounds one hundred feet per minute. Since thirty-three thousand pounds is called one horse power, it is natural that people should think the engineer who established that unit of measurement based it on what horses could really do. But the horse that can do this work does not exist. The horse power unit was established by Jumes Watt about a century ago, and the figures were fixed in a curious way. Watt found that the average horse of his district could raise twenty-two thousand pounds one foot per minute. This, then was an actual horse power. At that time Watt was employed in the manufacture of engines, and customers were so hard to find that all kinds of artificial inducements were necessary to induce power-users to buy steam engines. As a method of encourageing them, Watt offered to sell engines reckoning thirty-three thousand pounds to a horse power. And thus he was the means of giving a false unit to one of the most important measurements in the world. Strange Things.-?Strange things go on inside the heads of children : "Ernest, what does Amen mean?" said Philip to his older brother, who had reached the wise age of six. "It means mustn't touch it, Philip," was the unhesitating reply. "Ernest !" exclamed the boy's mother, who had overheard the question and answer, why do you tell your little brother that ?" "You told me so, mamma," answered Ernest. "Why 110: think what you are saying. I could not have told you that," urged the astonished mother. "But you did, mamma." I asked you, and you said 'Amen means must'nt touch it,'" returned the little boy, very positively. His mother was greatly puzzled un til she reinemhereu that sue nan saiu ' Amen means, so let it l>e." Little Krnest, in his raids 011 the work-basket, the hooks, and the bric-abrac, hud learned past doubt that "let it be," meant mttsn't touch it.?Youth's Companion. Baf Mr. George M. Pullman, the possessor of fifty million dollars, recently said to a correspondent, when asked how it feels to in* a millionaire: "I have never thought of that. But now that you mention it. I believe that I am no better otl?certainly no happier? than I was when I didn't have a dollar to my name, and had to work from daylight until dark. 1 wore a good suit of clothing then, and 1 can only weurone suit now. I relished three meals a day then a good deal more than I do three meals a day now. I hud fewer cares; slept better, and 1 may add, generally, that 1 believe I was fur happier in those days than I have lteen many tintes since 1 became a millionaire. And yet it is a comfortable feeling to be rich. &c&" Many think that sleep is lost time. But the style of your work will be mightily affected by the style of your slumber. Sound Asleep is the sister of Wide Awake. Sleep is not a subtraction : it is an addition.