Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, October 20, 1900, Image 1
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YORKYILLE ENQUIRER.
ISSUED SEMI-WEEKLY.
1.1 prist * sons, Pnbii?hen. } % jfamili; gtrospptr: ^or Htq fromaiiait a| thq |alitiqal, gonial, &pii[ttliitpt and ^entmenrial Jnferqgts afl tin; jgeapl^. j
ESTABLISHED 1855. YOEKVILLE, S. C., SATURDAY, OCTOBER 20,1900. NO. 84.
^
BY MAJ-. ARTH
Copyright, 1900, by R. F. Fenno & Co.
. . CHAPTER VL
PASSAGES FROM THE DIARY QF WILFRIDA
FAIRHOLME.
S. S. Chattahoochee, July 17.?Although
still harassed and oppressed
by hideous anxiety. 1 want, in this my
first moment of leisure, to set down
clearly and fully the strange events
tnat nave oceurreu siuee umi uicuiumble
evening In Prince's Gate. 1 have
been In & whirl ever since. But I have
forgotten nothing. Every act, every
thought is Indelibly fixed in my mem?
ory from the moment that I realized
my loss.
Forget! I shall never forget that afternoon
when the American detective
brought me the news. What an odd
creature be was. Very much overdressed,
with a sort of company manner
voice, which didn't disguise bis Yankee
accent or tone down his awful
Americanisms. I know now that the
p. poor wretch was honest and straightforward.
but i could not get over my
repugnance to him at first
And so when we got to the very
house and drew quite blank 1 made up
my'mind that the man was an arrant
Impostor. Nothing fell out as be said.
"His boy would be on the watch."
There was no boy. He was quite certain
of the bouse into which Willie
had been carried. The police broke in.
There was no Willie Wood.
The whole thing was humbug. I felt
convinced of it and said so. only to regret
It directly after. It could not be
quite humbug, or. If it was, Roy. dedr
Willie's lovely dog. was in It too. for
Roy had certainly smelt bim out in the
cellar where we found the awful apparatus
and things, and I ought to have
known that a dog's instinct is always
true. But I was very short with Mr.
Bnuyzer and left him in a huff. It was
a mistake, of course, for it was losing
a chance. The man might be useful,
and after all he was the only one who.
whether the right or the wrong one,
had any sort of clew. That was good
old Sir Charles Colllngham's opinion
and Colonel Bannister's, the big official.
chier I'UUBinble or assistant commissioner
or something whom the general
broncrht with him to Hill street. 1
found them there closeted with mother.
ITho had heard all about It from them.
She was rather In a limp condition,
dear mother, having quite failed to
take in the situation and unable to say
or suggest anything.
The colonel?he was rather a cross
looking, middle aged man, with square
cut short whiskers and a bristling
(ray mustiache?took me sharply to
task for letting the American slip, ana
, I should have been offended at his
tone, but I knew I had been wrong.
"Flrcm what you tell us he had no
doubt been in communication with
Captain Wood yesterday, and he would
have saved us some time and trouble
If we bad him under our hand now.
He must be hunted up," said the colonel
"Your people know him at Scotland
Yard. He was there today, and they
sent him on to the United States consulate.
He told me that himself," 1
said.
"They will know him at the consulate
probably. I will send there to inquire,"
said the colonel, making a short
* note.
"And ftontnln Wood's man knows
Mm. They came here together this
afternoon."
"And for the matter of that so do I,"
added Sir Charles. "Not much, of
course, and he's an uncommon queer
looking chap. But the fellow seems
? honest and straightforward."
"Unless the whole thing is a put up
Job," remarked the police colonel, with
"He must be hunted up," said the colonel.
a meaning smile, "a scheme to throw
you off the scent of these papprs which
you sav are so important Sir
Charles"?
* "By George, they are that." the general
broke In. "Don't you see? It Is
probably a trumped up story about the
plot against Wood simply to cover the
theft of the papers."
"But Captain Wood has gone. He
has been carried off." 1 said.
" 'Gone.' yes." sneered the colonel,
"but 'carried off.' How do we know
that? It's not the first time a young
gentleman has disappeared for four
and twenty hours or more. Who
knows all the ins aud outs of Captain
Wood's affairs and private movements?"
At that moment Harris, the butler,
came up with a card. "Gentleman asks
If he can see you most particular. Same
1/
as came this afternoon?Mr. Snoozer?
- - " ? -1 liw
bat he's got a dirty scruD or a Doy wuu
bim."
"Joe." I cried. "Show tbem'up here,
Harris. Yes: bring both c I them, of
course. We shall hear something now."
Mr. Snuyzer came up to the drawing
rpom at a rim. I'm sure. He was almost
at Harris' heels. The boy Joe
lagged a little behind and stood abashed
at the door, and Roy. who by constitution
bated all boys, especially ragged
ones, took this hesitation as suspicious
and gave an ugly growl, with a show
of bis fierce teeth. The collie, I should
mention, had never left me since he
was brought to Hill street
"Look yar. What did 1 tell you,
miss?" began the detective, coming
straight at me and talking rather excitedly.
"1 never thought to show myself
here again, but by thunder. It was
too strong for me. I've' got the pride of
my business, and 1 wanted you to see I
was right to believe In Joe. Now,
speak out young squire."
I must say 1 thought well of the boy
from the very first He was an apple
cheeked, healthy looking, bullet beaded
urchin, with clear, china blue eyes,
very wide open just then In astonishment.
1 think, not fear. He did not
care one bit forthe dog. but faced him
sturdily, stooping as If to pick up a
stone, with a "Would yon?br-r-r, lie
down, will you." that sent the collie.
8till growling, under the sofa..
"How was it Joe? Won't you sit
down? Let's hear what happened." I
said just to encourage him. and be asked
nothing better than to tell bis story,
and taking bis seat at the very edge of
a chair after dusting it he began:
"It was this way. mum?miss. When
he?Mr. Snuyzer there?set me on the
nark. 1 mean watch, this morning. I
held on to the Job close for a matter of
three hours and never saw nothing.
Worn't no move at all In the bouse till
about 11 o'clock, when a trap comes
down the read and puIH'tfpaf the garden
gate. The coachman be was in an
old blue coat and silver buttons, bad
bat?half a crown an hour businessregular
fly. But inside was a dona?a
real lady, you understand, dressed up
to the knocker. I saw her get out"?
"Would you know her again?" we
asked, all of ns. in a breath. *
Joe nodded bis bead.
"1 couldn't see her face at first, she'd
got a thick veil on. But afterward I
got my chance, as I'll tell you directly.
She was a snorter, too, real Jam, and
no mistake, a lady, like as I've seen
at the music 'alls."
"When did you see her face?" asked
nnthAH InfnllT?
lUf cuiuuci4 1 a 1 uci uiouuiui u<
"In the carriage, wheh I was a-setting
right opposite her. I'll come to
that But first of all I must tell you
bow it was. You see. the dona she
wouldn't go right into the garden at
first She kept at the gate spyiDglike,
watching the bouse and doubting, as I
..fancied, she ought to go in. Then she
made a dash forward for the front
door, but before she reached the steps
some one came down, a man"?
"Would you know him again?"
"Rather. In a thousand. He was a
little black muzzled chap, with a skin
like a pickled walnut and be came
out all In a hurry, as though be had
been watching for her.
"He waved her back, but she stuck
to It and they must have had words,
for 1 see'd him take her by the wrist
and pull her out toward file carriage.
"I was crouched close under the
wall, for I'd sneaked up at the back
of the carriage to spot what I could,
and I was just by the door when the
small chap opened it and was forcing
the dona to get in.
"'I will not go, Paplr' (Pepe), she
says, 'not until I have heard what you
have done to him. There was to be
no violence. You promised that, and
I wish to be sure. I must know,' she
Tsays, 'that he ain't come to no harm,'
she says.
"With that the little fellow gives
her a great shove. I think he'd 'a'
struck her, but just then he caught
sight of me.
" 'Why, in the name of?some foreign
gibberish?'where have you dropped
from? What brings you 'anging
about 'ere?*
"I tried to stall him off by axing
him to buy a box of matches, but he
cut up very rough and wanted to lay
'old of me, saying he'd call the police
and give me in charge for loitering
and all that. But I checked him and
slipped through his fingers-'twasn't
difficult?and ran up the road.
"After 1 had been caught out," Joe
went on, "for which I'm very sorry,
sir, I judged I'd better keep off a bit if
I was to do any more good.
"It was time, too, now they'd dropped
on to me, to send word to the office
what was up; that they was a-moving
down here. I was a-making for the
nearest postofflce to send a wire, when,
from where I wbb, I saw the carriage
drive straight into the garden.
"The road was clear, so I crept back,
keeping out of sight and scrouging inside
the pillars of the next gate, where
I'd got my eye on what went on. The
carriage was nowheres to be seen.
They mist have took it right Inside
the stables, for the coachhouse doors
was open."
"That wan to get Mr. Wood away,"
said the American detective.
"How do you know that? You don't
even know that he was there at all"
sneered the coloneL
"Hah! You wait Guess you'll see,"
retorted Mr. Snuyzer. "2 believe the
carriage came on purpose, or they were
uneasy at seeing the boy. Suspected
something; some one had got wind,
some one was on the track and wanted
to clear out"
"All pure conjecture." said the coloneL
IA 4 %?*?***? ?* rH/1 natvw\?a him ** Of*.
aujf naj, uiu icujvtv uiui* u*
gued Snuyzer.
"if he was ever there," retorted the
colonel.
"Well. welL Go on. Joe. Did you
see anything more of the brougham?"
I asked.
"Did I. mum? Of course I did. That's
what 1 was waiting for. It was half
an hour or more afore It come out
again. And there was three chaps
come'dout first n-laughing and a-talkIng.
I heerd one of^em say. 'Not much
fight about him now.' T'other says. 'He
went like a sheep.' 'A dead un,' says
another. 'Mutton, you mean.' "
"Oh! had they hurt him? Oh, Sir
Charles!" I burst In. finding great dlffl- '
culty In restraining myself.
"No, miss," put In the American very
kindly. "I've told you'they've no cause
to hurt him as I look at It He's too
precious to them, besides. Fire ahead.
Toe."
"The carriage, It was druv out fast
through the gale into the road and
straight on for London, I had to settle
what I'd do and quick too.- Yon'd told
me. sir, to watch the house and If any
one come out to let you know. Well. I:
Judged they'd all cofbe out so anyways
I was bound to let you know, and I'd
an Idea that the corriage'd help me to
the next move. If I follered It I'd find
where they'd all gone to.
"So with that I scribbled a message
on tne gate, case yon cornea aowu auu
missed me, and I started running ail, I
knew to catch up the carriage. I picked
It np long way this side of the
bridge, although I was near baked and
done brown. Bat I hitched on to the
back part like a3 I've done a thousand
times afore and rode like a gentleman
all the way up the 'Ammersmlth road
right into Kensington.
"There one of your blooming Interfering
coves wot sees me on my perch
gives the office to the man a-dri'ving.
who rounds with his whip and gives
"IV a you, is itT Aha! Thts ie the second
time I've caught you spying,'t
me wot for. I held on for all the cuts
of the cord, though they stung like hot
nettles. I was pretty well slashed all
over, when all at once the jarvey stops
bis 'osses. and before 1 could climb
down a feller?the same little black
faced moocher?came and copped me
right where 1 sat behind. He was awful
mad.
" 'You devil's spawnl Ifs you, la it?
Aha! This is the second time I've
caught you spying. Tell me who sent
you, or by'?some foreign talk?Til do
for you.'
"But mum was the word with me. I
wouldn't 'a'let on if he'd cut me to ribbons.
'Chuck it' I said, 'chuck it or
call the coppers. If I've done wrong,
it's for them to pick me up. not you.
I'll answer to them.'
"He didn't much like the talk of the
police. 1 could see that They might
want to know more about him than he
chose to tell. That settled him, I think,
for he dragged me up to the carriage
door, opened it and shoved me in. I
saw the lady, the same dona, was there
and by her side a big bundle of something
n fiirnrp of a man it might 'a'
been, all wrapped up in rugs and blankets
and things. Might 'a'been a dead
un. Then the feller began talking foreign
again to the dona, and she answered
back the same, and there was a
great shindy.
"It was all about me. 1 guessed
that And the end was that the feller
hoisted me on to the front seat and
said to me mighty sharp:
" 'You stick there. Don't move. If
you try to get out, I shall see you from
the box, and you won't get far even if
you don't break your neck leaving the
carriage. Watch him, Susette. She's
responsible for you, my lad, and she
knows what I'll do to her If you play
any tricks.'
"With that he left us, and we rolled
on.
" 'Who sent yon?' asked the dona directly
he'd gone. 'Do you come from
his friends?' She nudged the bundle
alongside. 'Do you know Captain
Wood? "
"Ha, you see!" Interposed the American.
"You bet that was our man hid
up among those rugs."
The others were compelled now to
admit the fact, and they did so ungrudgingly.
As for me. my heart was
beating fast for I felt that at last I
had come upon the track of my love.
"What did you tell her? Go on, my
good boy," I said breathlessly.
"You see, miss, I'd never beard tell
of no captain, but 1 wouldn't let on,"
Joe continued. "The boss 'ere bad only
told me to watch, saying it was a cross
Job, but be mentioned no names. So I
""" ?*""irs Mq that Mr. Wood? and
U^p auu v?.. "T~*~ "
I could 'a' sworn that the bundle moved,
and there was struggling like Inside."
:
"Gagged, of course," put In the American.
Joe went on. 44 'Anyway, I am his
friend.' she says. 1 don't mean be shall
come to harm. And 1 want him'?the
bundle moved again?'him and others
to know that, and I'd like you to tell
'em so when you get out of this mess.'
'When'll that be? I asks, a little bit on
the bump, you know. .'Now, If you're ,
game to bop out I'm not a-going to
stop you,' and she was for turning of
the handle then rind there.
"But 1 considered a hit and the
thought came In my head that now I'd
got 'ere I had ought to stick 'ere. There
was the gentleman opposite me?as I
Judged?and if I was to do any service
to him 'twasn't by cutting away. I'd
got to see the thing right through?
where they took him, what they did to
him, who and what they were."
"You're a brave lad," 1 said, stretching
out and shaking hands with him,
and Indeed I should have liked to bug
him. dusty and dirty as he was.
'Thank you kindly, miss," he answered
shyly, and went on. "The only
way out of It was to say 1 was afeard
to jump. TSie cove on the box was
a-watchtng me. I says, and a lot more.
Then the carriage settled it by turning
Into some yard, a private place It looked
like, but they gave me no time to
spy, for the feller from the box came
down directly we stopped and had me
??A ! % ~ 41#
UUl 1 LI tx JIU.J.
"' 'Ere.' he says. 'we'we got first to
do with you. Lay bold on him.' Then
two other chap6 grabs me by the arms
and rushes me head down. jam. ram.
straight into a dark hole that smelled
of moldy straw and garbage?some
sort of cellar?where they locked a
door od me. and I was laid np In limbo
like a rat in a trap.
"It took me half an hour or so to
shake myself together. First thing
that gave me heart was a streak of
daylight up atop of the calaboose, and
when 1 struck a match I found it
corned through an old Iron grating,
which I soon overhauled. 'Tworo't set
so tight that 1 couldn't soon loosen a
brick, although 1 tore my hands a bit
before I got the thing right out Then
I'd a Job to lift myself up by my arms,
but I'm strong in the arms, and by and
by 1 scrambled through that gratingthat's
what tore my clothes?and out
on to the yard above. It was the one
as we'd druv Into?a stable yard at
the back of a tall bouse all shut up.
windows shuttered, blinds down. No
one at home, you'd say. The stables
was empty?no horsps. helpers, no
trap^ I couldn't find that the stables
Joined on to the bouse neither, but I
judged It was better not to hang about
too long or they'd be copping me again.
So 1 makes for the yard doors. They
was only barred- on the inside, and 1
got out right enough into the back
lane. That's about all. I corned on
then straight to you. sir, to make my
report"
"You were In a monstrous hurry,"
said Colonel Bannister. "Why didn't
mo??lr HAtrn the hnilHP thp npiffh*
J"U ' " V? D_
borbood. the exact spot?"
Mr. Snuyzer took bis part "Joe
knows bis business; yes. sir, as well
as the best professionals. Tell us,
Joe."
"The stables was In Featberstone
mews, No. 7. To make sure 1 chalked
something on the doors. The stables
was at the back of Featberstone Gardens
and belonged, 1 should say, to
No. 7."
In a few minutes more we bad started
In cabs?1 in a hansom with Sir
Charles?straight for Featberstone
Gardens. Roy came with us. We were
the first to arrive, but the others had
gone round, escorted by Joe, to the
back of the house so as to verify the
mews and the situation exactly. When
they joined us at the entrance of the
gardens, Colonel Bannister, who now
took the lead,, dismissed the cabs and
said in his brief, ordering sort of way:
"We can't all go up to the house. It i
might create a scandal. The whole i
thing may be a mistake. I'll take this
lad first. He may perhaps identify i
somebody, and then we shall be en- (
titled to act."
"And me, please," I added. "Oh, ]
yes, indeed, Colonel Bannister, 1 shall
no too." i
He shrugged his shoulders, and we
three, with Roy close at my heels, soon j
stood on the doorstep of No. 7. The |
house was all shut up, the chain was
on the door, and we waited a long time ;
while some one inside fumbled with It 1
and several bolts.
"Well, what is it?" asked an old man ;
who at last opened the door, but held
It ajar. He was of very respectable
appearance, with white hair under a i
black skullcap, and wore a decent blue i
and white striped jacket, the type of !
an old servant in a good family. "May 1
I Inquire"? 1
"We wish to see your master," said
the colonel promptly. _
"1 am afraid that is Impossible, sir."
replied the man civilly. "The family
have gone out of town. The duke left
yesterday for Spain."
"The duker.
"The Duke of Tierra Sagrada. He
is my master, sir. If you will leave
your card I will see that it Is sent on
to him. or any letter. I have his address."
"In Spain?"
"Certainly, sir. Casa Huerta Hermosa,
St Sebastian. They have gone
to the seaside. 1 No, please"?this was
to me, for I was quietly trying to get
Roy past him into the house?"that
dog mustn't come in. My orders ar?
strict against dogs."
"Call turn DacK, miss rairnoune. at
once," said the colonel In a tone which
I resented, bot be cut me qplte short
"This farce has gone far enough. 1
wash my bands of It Good night"?
this to the old manservant as we
walked away. "And If you will be
guided by me. Miss Fairbolme. you
will do the same. It's all humbug
from first to last 1 give you my word.
I do not believe one syllable of this story,
except perhaps about the papers,
and even then 1 am not quite satisfied,
for they were sent to Captain Wood
In the dispatch box. That we know"?
"But not at Captain Wood's request."
I said hurriedly.
"His man thinks not, and 1 admit
the box was not specifically mentioned
In the letter, but the letter said papers,
and the expression was seemingly one
that Wood used, for the man, as a matter
of course, sent the dispatch box."
"But what do you Imply?'
"Just this, that Captain Wood Intended
to keep out of the way?for reasons
1 do not presume to conjecture?
and while out of the way to go on with
his work. He'll turn up in good time,
take my word for It, and will give his
own explanation of bis absence. It
may not be absolutely satisfactory, bis
excuse may be bad. but he win make
one, and you win have to take It or
leave It." were the cynical police colonel's
last worda
I bated and loathed him for taking
this view, and I turned my back on
him. Sir Charles did not console me,
for be was thinking more abbot the
official papers than Willie's disappearance.
"By the Lord Harry, we shall be In
Qoeer street if they don't torn op," he
said with much etnphasis. "Wood or
no Wood, we've got to get them, or
there will be a jolly row; a cabinet
question, egad, and the devil's own
complications. The matter can't rest
here. So cheer op. Miss Frida. We'll
all do oor level best"
"Why. certainly," added Snoyser,
"we don't depend entirely on police
colonels, and this one is not so almighty
clever. I've got to get on the
inside track of this business, and I'll
do it yet you bet your bottom dollar."
It was kind of them, but I would not
be consoled. When I got to Hill street
I crep: up to my room, very sorrowful
and sick at heart and cried myself to
sleep.
Next morning while 1 was dressing
they came and told me that Mr. Snuy
ser had called. He bad something important
to tell me, and was rather in a
hurry. ,
"Captain Wood's not in that bouse."
began the American abruptly, when
I got down stairs.
"How do yon know 7 Why are you
so mire?" I asked.
"Haven't tbe smallest doubt of It
1 know, because I went right through
tbe bouse last night every single
room." "What!
Did they let you In?"
"No. miss; I broke In?burglary you
call It In this country. 1 believe, and
you may give me Into custody If you
please. But tbe detective that's not
good enough to break tbe law on an occasion
as well as break into a bouse
and stand tbe racket bad better give
op the business."
Tbe man's audacity staggered me. 1
was quite terrified, but 1 liked him for
it
"You see, miss. 1 can't afford to stick
at trifles. My professional reputation
is at stake, and tbe more 1 thought it
over tbe more 1 hungered to get inside
that house in Featberstone Gardens,
and this is bow I worked it: First I
set a close watcb on tbe bouse, front
and back, and found before midnight
that no one had gone either in or out 1
reckoned that there were not very
many of them, and we mustered half a
dozen, two of them practiced 'crooks'professional
burglars, miss. We got
into the house right enough?the crooks
managed that?in half an hour. First
thing was to lay hands on the caretaker.
There was no one else in the
house. He swore to that and we soon
Baw that he was speaking truth, for we
urew every ruum, rmism;a.cu c*cij ?/ ner,
turned out every cupboard, but
nary soul was to be found. They'd all
cleared out but this one critter. So I
went back to hiin and threatened his
life. He was very stiff, but a revolver
is a mighty fine persuader, and presently
he outs with the story; lies maybe,
maybe truth, but good enough to
make him worth keeping till we could
get some corroboration."
"What was his story? Anything
about Captain Wood? Did he admit
that they had taken him?"
"You bet he did. Told us the whole
game from first to last. The first we
knew pretty well before; the last is
that they have taken him out to sea
In a steamer. The steam yacht Fleurde-Lis,
auxiliary screw, 274 tons register,
cleared from Victoria dock yesterday
at 3 p. m. I've been there and
verified it this inrnlng."
"Already?"
"Yes," he went on. "The yacht Fleurde-Lis,
Chapman master, left the dock
at 3 p. m. yesterday. They knew her
well there. She was waiting, ready for
sea, fires banked, blue peter flying,
malting only for her owner, and left
her berth directly he was got on board.
He was an Invalid, came in a carriage
to the dock side and nad to be carried
on board wrapped up in blankets."
"Ah! Joe was right then."
"A lady helped him, thought to be
his wife, bat she did not accompany
him to the ship. She staid on shore?
rery much upset they told me who saw
her, and could hardly be persuaded to
re-enter the carriage. But a gentleman
at last made her, and they drove away
"So 1 vent back to Mm and threatened
his life."
together. So the parties have split up.
One lot are afloat with their prisoner,
meaning, I've no doubt to keep him
away at sea, incapable of Interfering,
while the others early on their spoliar
tlon in New York. That's how 1 figure
It now." said the detective shrewdly.
"I dare say you're right" I Interrupted
him hastily. "But surely these
speculations will not help us. We've
got to give chase to that yacht Ho#
is It to be doner * 1 .
"You see. she has a tremendous
start"
"No auxiliary screw can do more
than eight or ten knots, I believe.
Mother and I were In the Mediterranean
last year with one of the best Let
us hire something faster. There must
be plenty of steamers. I will pay any
price gladly." ,
"Then we have no idea of what
course the Fleur-de-Lis has taken."
"There are signal stations all along
the coast I believe. We hear of ships
being reported every hour almost as
long as they are m sight or land."
"She will fly do signals and will certainly
get out of sight of land."
"Oh. dear, dear!" I said, almost crying
with rage. "Ton only make difficulties.
It's too terrible to think of.
Is there nothing you can suggest?
Have you no advice to give? I shall
go and consult Sir Charles Colllngham.
He Is a man in authority, and can help,
1 believe. I shall tell bim what you
have discovered." .
"Well. miss. let's each go our own
*%y. But. see here. Take this. I've
noted down a description of the Fleur^
de-Lis Just as I got it from the dockyard.
It's the only guide you'll have
in tracing her. for she won't fly her
number, you bet."
to be continued.
The Grave , of Annie Laurie.?It
has just been discovered, that the grave
of Annie Laurie, the heroine of the
world famous ballad, has remained for
all these years without a tombstone.
Many people are under the' delusion
that Annie Laurie was merely a figment
of the poet's brain; but this was
not so. She was the daughter of Sir
Robert Laurie, and was born in Maxwelton
House, which stands on the
"braes" immortalized in the song. Her
birth is thus sef down in the Barjorg
manuscript:
"At the pleasure of the Almighty
God, my daughter, Annie Laurie, was
born upon the 16th day of December,
1682 years, about 6 o'clock in the morning,
and was baptized by Mr. George,
minister of Glencairn."
If AvnfAU/tn Unuan 1a aHII ftlll
ittOAncuva IAVUO? AH UVM* ?.?M?
memories of this winsome girl, and in
the drawing room there still hangs
her portrait. Her lover and the author
of the original song wua young
Douglas of Fingland; but whether he,
as Is common with lovers of poetic "
temperament, did not press his suit
sufficiently or whether she wished a
stabler husband, she gave her hand to
a prosaic country laird, her cousin, Mr.
Alexander Ferguson. They lived the
rest of their lives at CraigdarrocljL
House, five miles from Maxwelton, and
when she died Annie was burled in
the glen of the Cairn. Lady Scott ,
Spottiswoode, who died early In the
present year, was responsible for the
modern version of the song.?St. James
Gazette. '
One Black Sheep in Evert Family.
One of the stories that the late Senator
Palmer was fondest of telling had to do
with an aged gentlewoman bearing the
same name as himself, who lives somewhere
down on the eastern shore of
Virginia, in the county where Senator
Palmer's grandfather was born. One
of the senator's Washington friends
happened to meet the old lady down
there, and asked her if she were not a
kinswoman of his. She did not know,,
but thought perhaps he might be. The
gentleman was of Virginia descent,
was he not? And in the United States
senate? Yes, she was quite sure he
was a kinsman.
"Was he in the army?" she asked.
"Yes," answered the senator's friend,
"he was In the army and a general."
-? * - - *? a * Via nroo
Tne 01Q laay wao pusiuvc mai tic nuo
a relation.
"But," went on the friend, "he was a
general in the Union army."
The old lady's face fell, but she rallied.
"Well," she said, "you know there's
a black sheep in every family."
?.< ...