University of South Carolina Libraries
An Independent Family Journal---Devoted to Politics, Literature and General Intelligence. HOYT & CO.. Proprietors. ANDERSON, S. C THURSDAY, JUNE 10, 1869. VOLUME 4 -NO 50. THE BANK CLERK'S STORY. THE DETECTIVE DETECTED. I bad been a clerk in the Bristol Bank, in Providence, for eightoen years, and had gained the confidence of the presi? dent and cashier by uniform good beha? vior and close attention to my work. Other! clerks had come and gone; some to mOce lucrative positions,, and some I know not where, discharged as they had been for inaccuracies in their books. One of them, James Petrie, who had left us about a year before the events hap? pened which I am about to relate, had bee'n; on friendly terms with me, and I bad always found him an obliging, kind hearted fellow. Ho had been rather too fond Of the glass, however, and I had fre? quently warned him that it would injure biih in tho opinion of the officers of. the bank if it should be discovered that he indulged so freely. He had always prom? ised me that he would reform, and had always failed to do so. At last he came to the bank one day hi a state which certainly would betray him if be should have to speak to the cashier, which he had often to do, and I was urging him to leave on the plea of sickness, when tho cashier, who saw us talking, called him to his room on some matter of business. He went, and on en? tering therroora stumbled against a chair and fell. The cashier discovered his con? dition, and when the president arrived, poor Petrie was at once discharged. It was a custom, when an employee left the bank fbr the president to give him a statement of his conduct while there,and what was the cause of his dismissal. Such a statement was handed to Petrie, as he left-the office, ruined as to any pros? pect of getting a position in a banking house afterward. I had never seen or heard of him from that. time. About a year after I was summoned into the president's room, and informed that I had to start that evening for New Hampshire. . He staled that iiardie, a very eccentric man, who did a large bus? iness with the bank, had wr?lten him to send on a clerk to Keene, a .own in New Hampshire, with $150,OUO to pay .for a large amount of property which ho had bought there. It would have been easy for Hardie to have given a check on the bank for the sum specified, but he had a habit of always paying the money down, atid ho now proposed to pay a clerk's ex? penses to Keene and back rather than dabble with checks, as he called it. I had been chosen for the wo: k, and a tel? egram was to be forwarded to Hardie to tell him that I would start by tLo 7.40 p. m. train that night. The money wtis ready, and I went home to prepare for my journey, taking it along with me. I had scarcely arrived nt home when I was attacked with a i complaint from which I occasionally suf fered, and which completely prostrated me lor tho time. It was 9 o'clock before I got over the attack, and then I was too late to get a train that night. I did not think, however, that it was of much con? sequence, as I could 6tart by the 4.30 a. to. express train, and bo in time for the 7 a. ib. (rain from Bos.on to Keene. This arrangement I carried out without think? ing it necessary to inform my emploj'ers, since Hardie would have the money with? in a few hours of the time notified by the telegram. In due time I reached Boston, and was passing up Tremont street on my way to the Fitchburg depot, when a hand was laid on my shoulder, and a voice quietly said: "You must be new to your business, Glover ?" "What business?" I inquired, as I turned round and faced tho man. who ad? dressed mo. There was something in the tone of bis voice which made me think I had heard it before ; but on looking at his face I perceived that he was a stran? ger to mo. . "Ah 1 beginning to act," he said, look? ing steadily at me. "There is no use, however, trying that on," he continued. "You were missed last night, and as you had such a large sum of money it-was thought strange, and word was 6ent on here. I have been ( n the lookout for you since, and now you had better accompa? ny me to tho oftico without any disturb? ance." "What office?" I inquired, with more amazement, for he was speaking in par? ables to me. "To my office," ho replied. "I am de? tective Steel, and have to arrest you on tho charge of attempting to make off with a large sum of money from the Bris? tol Bank of Providunce." I was completely stunned. Surely I most bo dreaming. But, no. There was the detective of whom I had so often heard, with his hand on my shoulder, and looking into my face with calm satisfac? tion. There could be no doubt of that. And he must have been instructed to ar? rest me. Otherwise, how could he have known my errand so accurately. I thought quiet submission was the best course, as 1 could easily clear up an}' doubt which might be cast upon me by telegraphing to the president of the bank how I had been prevented from starting the preceding night. 1 therefore walked quietly along with him till we came to a house in Hanover street, where he said the superintendent of police lived, from whom he wished to got instructions re? garding me. Ho had a pass-key, by which he admitted himself, and wo went into a room where a gentlemanly-looking man was writing. "Woll, Steel," said this person, "is this your man ?" "Yes, sir," was the detective's reply. "He is quite green, or very deep." "Has he got the money ?" inquired tho superintendent. "I left the matter of searching for that till we should come here," replied Steel. Then turning to mo and looking at the valise in which I had the money, he added, "I suppose jou have it all. Open it." 1* did as directed, and the bundlo of bills was produced. I observed a glance of satisfaction pass between the chief and his subordinate; but thinking nothing of the circumstance, I proceeded to state how I had been detained, and that I was crossing to the Fitchburg depot to take the train when Steel arrested me. "Well, my friend," said the chief, ?tho truth of your statement will soon be known. It is suspicious, however, that yonr mother should havo told the presi? dent's messenger that you started last evening, when you did not come by the tram specified. In the meantime I shall telegraph to our people at Providence to make inquiries, and you wilt have to be confined until the reply arrives. ".Steel," he added, turning to tho detective, "will you show him down stairs to the floor below? I do not wish his case a public one until wo ascertain whether there be any truth in his statement. He does not look as if he were guilty." As the doteetive requested <i.e to follow him, I thanked the superintendent for his courtesy, and requested him to let me go on by the 11 a. m. train, as I had lost too much time already. Ho said ho would do what he could, and with a courteous bow to him I tollowed the detective. Ho conducted me to the cellars of the build? ing, and, after turning several corners, ushered me into a room in which -there was ho window. He left a lamp with me, saying that he would return or send some breakfast to me, departed, locking the door behind him. What followed seems to me even now like a hideous dream. As the detective's footsteps receded bej'ond hearing, a cold shiver passed through mo as if I were being shut out from tho world, and had taken my last look of the 6un. This feeling I tried to cast off as being with? out foundation, since I would certainly be released within a few hours. Hut ever and anon on : gonizing gloom would come across my soul as I listened to catch the noises by which I knew the traffic of the city had commenced for the day must be causing, sind failed to hear the slightest murmur of a voice or the faintest roll of a wheel. As lime wore on and nine o'clock ap? proached, 1 began to be impatient for tho detective's return ; hut nine o'clock came and went, and yet he did not make his appearance. At first I seated myself on the bench which I had found in the room, but my impatience had soon caused me to pace from end to end ot the apartment, chafing in spirit at the disgrace which my employer's suspicion hud brought upon me. Eleven o'clock passed away, and yet no release. Tho ticking of my watch alone broke the intense stillness around me, and the watch continued its sharp click, till I knew that the afternoon has passed, and that night was closing upon the city. Night had come, but it had brought with it no prospect of escape from the solitary cellar in which I was con-fined? For a time my anxiety about the result pre? vented me from feeling hunger or thirst, but by degrees these two enemies attack? ed me with full vigor. I had eaten noth? ing since my usual dinner hour of the previous daj', the illness which had at? tacked me having made mo think noth? ing of supper, and the train with which I left Providence in the morning having precluded the possibility of my eating anything then. But hunger and thirst were alike forgotten for the time as the night rolled away and another morning found mo still a prisoner. The lamp still burnt, but the flame was waning, and an? other hour would leave me in darkness. I took tho lamp and with it examined every corner of the room, that I might ascertain whether there was any way of escape. But, though I found no crevice by which I might effect egress, I made a discovery which sent an appalling thrill of terror through my heart. In a sort of cupboard "I found three or four loaves- of broad and a large pitcher of water. As soon as 1 found them, a terrible suspicion s ruck me that I had been inveigled to this den by some clever scoundrel who had known of my having the money, and that he and his accomplice had. locked me up here to prevent my being able to give information of the robbery. They had left mo a little food to prevent my dying for some diij'S ; but whether they had made any arrangement for my final release was of course unknown to me: Probably not, for "dead men toll no tales," and possibly they had hoped for my death, though they had made a compro? mise with conscience by leaving me what would keep me in life for a time. These thoughts passed through my mind with the 6peed nnd overwhelming force of a thunderbolt. What if I should never escape ? And if* this should happen, and not only would I loso my life, but my good name would also be destroyed ; for my employers would never doubt that I had fled with tho money. The sicken? ing terror that camo over me unmanned mo for a time ; but after a little 1 recov? ered my fortitude, and uttering a short prayer for support 1 shouted for help at tho pitch of my voice, and hammered with my hand at tho door. After I had made as much noise as I could for seve? ral minutes, I stopped to ?Hten, but all was Bilent as a grave. At intervals I repeated my endeavors to make mysolf heard, but no reply came to my calls, nor did any sound indicate that I had suc? ceeded in drawing attention to my place of confinement. Fnint and weary I again bethought me of the food, and groping my way to the place where it been left (for my light was now gone,) I ate and drank ravenously. For dn\'8 and nights Uis weary, terri? ble captivity continued. How time was passed I could not tell. 1 had no light to let rne see my watch. I called for help till my Voice grew hoarse from continued shouting. I battered the door with my clenched fists till the skin was peeled off them in flakes. I prnyed for help till my heart was weary with the unanswered cry, "Lord, help and deliver me." In vain did I shout; in vain did I wildly rush against the unyieldingdoor; in vain did I send up my cry to heaven. No help came, and I was almost tempted to curse God and die. At last there came a time when consciousness departed from mo, and at the darkest hoar, when hope had given way with me, theprayj&r which I thought unanswered was heard, and the help of which I despaired arrived. When I recovered consciousness I was lying on a sofa in a handsomely furnish j ed room. There were three persons around the sofa, two gentlemen, one of { whom was a doctor, and a young lady. The lustrous eyes of the latter were filled with tears, and, though she did not know that I heard her, she muttered words of deepest and most earnest sympathy. I had again shut my eyes after a single glance at those bright orbs of hers, and now again I opened them, much to the satisfaction of the iEnculapius who had been laboring to restore my life. After a little I wus uble to sit up, and the doc? tor, seeing I was very weak, asked the other gentleman if he could give me a glass of wine. Scarcely had he uttered the request when my fair friend bounded from the room and presently returned with some sherry. The wino revived mo so much that I was able again to speak, and thank them for their kind? ness. Naturally enough they inquired how I had come to be in tho cellar, and I at once told them my story. "You have to thank God, my friend," said the gentleman, "that my daughter there is gifted with the faculty of acute hearing. Tw6 days ago she returned from the country and on going into the 3*ard behind tho house, yesterday morn? ing, sho heard a voice as if down in the bowels of the earth, calling for help. She listened for a little while without being able to distinguish from what direction tho noise proceeded, and presently the sounds ceased. This morning she heard them again, and after a little hesitation decided that they came from the cellars of the neighboring house, which has been untenanted for soino time back. She told me of the matter, and prevailed upon me ? f or I can refuse her nothing?to get the house searched. Procuring a couple of policemen and the necossarj* authority, we entered the house, and, after search ing a number ol closets, at last came to tho one where you were confined. We had to break open the door, as we had no key, and this we hesitated about doing; but Annie was so suro that sho was cor? rect as to tho locality, and I had previous? ly got so many proofs of tho extreme acuteness of her hearing, that I consen? ted at last to yield to her entreaties, and I thank God that we did so, for we found you lying in a stupor from which you probably would have never recovered without assistance." When he had ceased speaking, I turned mv grateful eyes upon the beautiful girl who had saved me, and in broken words of gratitude uttered my thanks. A wo? man feels a greater interest in a man whose life she has saved than in any one who has saved her, and therefore my thanks were to her more than a reward for what sho had done. Le Baw, her father, told me that he had beard of my disappearance and the loss of the money, and he proposed that he and Dr? Swinton should telegraph to the officers of the bank, telling thorn what had happened to me. At tho same time 1 communicated vnth the police of Boston, and a detective officer soon ar? rived at Le Baw's house, to whom I re? lated what had happened to me. "This detective must himself be detec? ted somehow," said the officer, laughing. "It will never do to allow any person who chooses to assume the functions of the office to escape scatheless. Can you give any duo to the persons who robbed you ?" I could not say anything definito, but tho conviction had grown upon mo that the man who had represented Steel was known to mo. "Think of all that ho said to you." said tho detectivo, "and try to fix upon some particular word, and then recall the voices of all the people you can remember. "Ah !" ho half shouted, "I see you have it already." And, indeed, I thought so myself, for the man had pronounced the word "mon? ey" in a peculiar manner, as if it were "munee." I stated this to him, saying that a clerk who had formerly been in our bank had pronounced it in the samo man? ner, and that when I had met the preten? ded dotectivo, I had had a vague convic? tion ot having heard ihat voice before "He's our man !4' said the detective, tri? umphantly. "Now we have only to find him. Description, please." Though I could not convince myself that Petrie, my old friend, could bo the offender, I waB in justice compelled to give his description; and as soon as he had got it in full the detective left, saying ho would call again in the course of the day. When ho left I was glad to sleep, for I was utterly worn out; and sleep I did till seven o'clock, when I w as aroused to have another interview with tho detective, whom 1 found bona fide Steel this time. The latter* was hot with iro that he should have been represented so successfully for such a purpose. ' They had discovered that Petrie had been a clerk in tho telegraph office, and lhat ho had resigned his situation on the day that 1 had been immured in the cel? lar. They had found, too, that he had been living a verj- fast, life, and that the manager of the office where he worked had not been sorry when he left, fer he had often been under the influence of liquor, and he was scarcely to be trusted about important werk. They had further ascertained that two men had taken two furnished rooms in the vacant house ad | joining Lo Baw's on tho evening before, and though neither of them resembled Pctrie in appearance, thej' had no doubt that it had been him in disguise. They had telegraphed also to New York, in? quiring whether a person of Petrie's de? scription, either as he really was or as he appeared with the disguise, had been seen there, and they hoped to have some cor? rect information for me in the morning. I spent tho rest of the evening in the so? ciety of Annie Le Baw and her father, and considered it the happiest of my life. Her pure heart rejoiced that she had done me good, and her eyes beamed with pity as she talked of the tortures I must have undergone. In short, I loved her, and unconsciously to he rself the feeling, which began as mere sympathy, deepened into love on her part, though I did not know it then. Two weeks passed before any trace was found of Petrie. At last it was discover? ed lhat a passsenger resembling him had crossed in the steerage of one of the ln man steamers, and detective Steel and my? self wero dispatched in pursuit. At Liv erpool we were somewhat at fault, but by dint of close, untiring search on our own part and that of a Scotch detective by the name of McLevy, we at last hunted our prey down to the city of Edinburg. Hav? ing ascertained lhat Petrie wasacommon name in Scotland, we went to the capital of that country, and there we got good assistance. Petrie had dropped the char? acter of a poor man, which he had sus? tained while on beard tho steamer, and was now sustaining that of a millionaire, who had made a fortune in America. The detectives pounced upon him as ho was going to church, and we brought him back to this country to pay the penalty of his crime. At his trial he pleaded guilty, and said that he had seen the telegram to Hardie, as it was being changed from one line to another at Boston ; and feeling persuaded that I would bo the bearer of the money, he determined to n uke a bold attempt at getting possession, and adopted the plan which was so successfully carried out. He had got two-thirds of the money, the accomplice whom ho had found it neces? sary to employ having been satisfied with fifty thousand dollars as his share of the prize. He, too, was captured by Petrie's description of him. and both are now ser? ving their timo in prison. The cashier of the bank retiring soon after, tho directors were kind enough to bestow that position on me, in reward, they said, for the sufferings I had under? gone in their service. About a year after my return from Scotland I paid a visit to Boston?not the first since 1 had met the pretcnted detective there, by any means ?but I mention this one particularly, be? cause then I took Annie home with metis my wife; and she has since proved herself the dearest and bent wife in Providence, her only fault being that she occasionally laughs at me for having been so easily de? ceived by Petrie. I meekly reply that I do not care new, since 1113' captivity brought mo the good fortune of meeting her. The Press and the Public?One of | the moat common, but most absurd mis? takes which people make now-a-days, says the Charleston News, is in imagining that a community confers upon the news? paper which it supports on obligation, which can only bo cancelled by the most obsequious compliance with tho whims and deference to the opinions of the in? dividual among the mass of its readers, who may lake the t roublo to favor it with his views. Modern journalism, like its sister institutions?tho postal system and the telegraph?gives to tho public advan? tages out of all proportion to the money value at which they are rated; and the man who buys a good newspaper; avails himself of a privilego, tho extraordinary cheapness of which he can hardly appre? ciate because of its habitual enjoyment. Tho advertiser, likewise, who makes known his business through the columns ot a journal circulating widely among all Classes, ought to understand that he there? by secures the richest possible return for tho trifling sum ho may have inves? ted. In both cases, the customer gets his full mone3''s worth many times multipli? ed ; and tho assumption that there is an}' obligation whatever in either is 6impl}' proposterous. Tho terms "patron" and "patronage" as applied to the readers and business of a newspaper, are still used 1)3' some countiy editors ; but have long since boon repudiated by all journalists who are mindful of tho true position and dig? nity' of their calling. -o ? An editor thus distinguishes be? tween different sorts of patriotism "Some esteem it sweet to die for one's countn- ; others regard it sweeter to live for one's countiy; but most of our patriots hold its eweeter to live upon one's countr3T." ? Can an3T one tell how it is that a man who i6 too poor to pay four cents a week for a good weekly paper, is able to pay fifteen cents a day for tobacco and ci garH. to say nothing of an occasional drink ? ? Unsocial old Snarl says that love is a combinatiou of diseasos?an affection of the heart and s,n inflammation of tho brain. ?ttlfavtmt ^UtiftjiS. A 'Famous Full of the Nosa. Two hundred and fifty-six years ago this month, Pocahontas, daughter of Pow hatan, was married to John Rolfe, at Jamestown, Va. She d;ed in England in March, four years after her marriage, leav? ing one son, who returned to Virginia to reside, and there left descendants/among whom was John Randolph, of Roanoke. Robert ?. Randolph, cousin of John, died at his residence ?n the corner of Four-and a-half and C streets, Washington, on the morning of the 20th inst., at the age of 70. He was the man who- tweaked the nose of Andrew Jackson, Old Hickory being then President of the United States. The pulling took place in the cabin of a steamer which stopped at Alexandria on its passage down the river. Randolph went aboard, marched up to Jackson, who supposed he Mas confronted by a friend till the thing was done. Randolph got beyond the jurisdiction of the country po? lice before a process could be issued, and escaped arrest. The 6cene when Jackson found himself with a pulled nose is de? scribed by those who saw it as one of <;tn peudous rage. The citizens of the Dis? trict of Columbia were in a foam over the indignity, and the whole couutry, in fact, was for a time in a tempest, the trium? phant Jackson party feeling that its own nose had been twisted by this audacious descendant of Pocahontas. Gen. Van Ness, then Mayor of Washington, sent a solemn message to the Councils on the event, and the Boards responded in a sol? emn resolution of condolence and indig? nation. No wonder that Randolph had to dodge from place to place for two years to avoid arrest. Finally, it is teported that an officer now living, was authorized to in? form Randolph that if he would apologize for his insult to the President, he would be reinstated. This Randolph declined to do until the President had first apolo? gized. It is hardly necessary to say that no apology came. After twenty-three years of service in the navy, and much gallant conduct, Randolph without much property, and without a profession, was turned adrift upon the world. During the administration of James Buchanan, John B. Floyd, then Secretary of War, gave Randolph the position of Superin? tendent or the Armory in Washington ; but he only held the place a short time, as Buchanan, hearing of the appointment, ordered it to be revoked for reasons best known to himself. The origin of the trouble between Jackson and Randolph was this: Some few years ago, it will be remembered a person named Bouganini eloped from New York w ith the property and neice of his wife, whom he had then recently married; the forsaken wife was once the wife of General Eaton, Secretary of War to General Jackson , and prior to that the wife of one Timberlake, * ho died a purser in the United States Navy. On the death of Timberlake, Randolph, who was then a lieutenant in the navy, was appointed to act temporarily as purser in his place. He found his accounts in a mixed condition and a deficiency existing against him. Before he had a chance to settle his accounts, Mrs. T. became the wife of General Eaton, Secretary of War, who was also surety for her former hus? band. It became apparently of interest to both that the deficiency charged should be shifted to other shoulders than those of the dead purser. An attempt was made to carry out such a scheme, with Randolph as the victim. Randolph asked for a court of inquiry, which being grant? ed, he was cleared of all suspicion by its report. But, nevertheless, President Jack? son ordered his dismissal from the navy. Not long after this, while Old Hickory was passing down the Potomac on a steamer, in front of Alexandria, and du? ring a pause of the boat at that place, Ran? dolph came on board and deliberately and most effectually wrung the nose of his Excellency^ Randolph entered the navy at about the age of sixteen, and had command of a di vision on the quarter deck of the frigate Constitution under Decatur, in her action with and the capture of the British frigate Macedonian. He was also in the Presi? dent when that ship was captured by the Endymion and other British vessels, and was carried a prisoner to London, where he cowhided a British Officer for using contemptuous language concerning Amer? ica. A brother of his went down with the sloop Wasp, which sunk at sea after her fight wjth a ship, the name of which escape? me. He was less than five feet ten in height, rather slim, had hair of light color, in youth, as shown by a min? iature taken in New London soon after the capture of the Macedonian; his nose was slightly Roman, and he had eyes like an eagle in clearness and power of expres? sion. In his eyes and nose alone were perceptible traces of his Indian origin. He leaves a wife and four children, one a son. ? The Chester Reporter says that per? sons who bought and planted Dickson Cotton Soed, in that and York County, agree in tho statement, that the plant from this seed has sulFcred more from the cold weather than any other kind of cot? ton. As a general rule they have failed entirely in getting a stand. ? A gentleman, who was consoling a young widow on tho death of her hus? band spoke in a very serious tone, re? marking that ho was one of the few? such a jewel of a Christian?yon cannot find his equal, you well know. To which the sobbing fair one replied, with nr. al? most broken heart, "I'll bet I will." ? It always gives force to a teacher's words when his hearers well know that he carries out his own instruction. Tue End of Four Great Men.?The four conquerors who occupy the most conspicuous places in the history of the world arc Alexander, Hannibal, Casar, and Bonaparte. Alexander, afier having climbed the dizzy night* of his ambition, with his temples bound with Chaplets dipped in the blood of millions, looked down upon a conquered world, and wept that there was not any other world for him to con? quer, set a city on fire, and died in a scene of debauch. Hannibal, after having, to the astonish? ment and consternation of JRome. passed tho Alps, and having put to flight the ar? mies of the mistress of the world, and stripped "three bushels of gold rings from the fingers of her slaughtered knights." and made her foundations quake, fled from his country, being hated bv those who once exultingly united his name to that of their god, and called him Hani Baal : and died at last by pnieon adminis? tered with his own hand, nnlamented and unwept, in a foreign land. Caesar, after having conquered eight hundred cities, and dyeing his garments in the blood of one million of his foes, after having pursued to death the only rival he had on earth, was miserably assassinated by those he considered his nearest friends, and in that very place the attainment of which had been his greatest ambition. Bonaparte, whose mandates kings and popes obeyed, after having filled the earth with the terror of his name?after having deluged Europe with tears and blood, and clothed the world in sackcloth?closed his days in lonely banishment, almost literal? ly exiled from the world, yet where he could sometimes see his country's banner waving over the depot, but which did not and could not bring him aid. Thus these four great men, who seemed to stand the representatives of all those whom the world calls great?these four men, who each in turn made the earth tremble to its very centre, by their simple tread, severally died?one by intoxication or, as was supposed, by poison mingled with his wine?one a suicide?one mur? dered by his friends?and one a lonely ex? ile ! How wretched is the end of all such earthly greatness! -?. j A Touching Story.?The Hon. A. H. Stephens, of Georgia, in a recent address, at a meeting at Alexandria, for the bene? fit of tho Orphan Asylum and Free School of that city, related the following anecdote: "A poor little boy, on ?cold night, with no room or roof to shelter his head no pa? rental or maternal guardian or guide to protect or guide him on hi* way. reached at. nightfall the home of a wealthy plant? er, who took him in, fed and lodged him, sent him on his way wit.i his blessing. These kind attentions cheered his heart and inspired him with fresh courage to battle with the obstacles of life. Years rolled round. Providence led him on, and he reached the legal profession; his host had died ; the cormorants that prey on the substance of man, had formed a conspiracy to get from tiie widow her i s tate. She sent for the nearest counsel, to commit her cause to him, and that coun? sel proved to be the orphan boy long be fore welcomed and entertained by her de? ceased husband. The stimulous of a warm and tenacious gratitude was now added to the ordinary motive connected with the profession. He undertook her cause with n will not easy to bo resisted ; he gained it; the widow's estates were *e cured to her in perpetuity," and Mr. Ste? phens added, with an emphasis of emotion, that sent an electric thrill throughout the house, "that hoy stands before you" - ?- . ? In Hartford, recently, a stranger went to a hotel for a bulb, and as Le did not emerge from his retirement for an hoi r, the proprietor entered with fears of suicide in his heart, to see what was the matter. The stranger had only been washing his shirt, and was waiting for it to dry. _The following is a volunteer tribute to modest worth ana unobtrusive gentle? ness of character : "The wheelbarrow : fur simplicity oJ construction, strength, courage, and general moral excellence, it is the superior of the velocipede, and ought to be encouraged." _ An eloquent orator proposes to 'grasp a ray of light from the great orb of day, spin in into threads of gold, and with them weave a shroud in which to wrap the whirlwind which dies upon the bosom of our Western prairies.' _Although the devil will be tho fa? ther of lies, ho seems, like other great in? ventors, to have lost much of his reputa? tion by the continual improvements that have been made upon him. ? Josh Billings says : "I never bet any stamps on the man who iz ulways telling what he would have done if he had bin thero. I have not ced that kind never git there." _A lady just arrived in Washington espied the dome ot the capitol, and in quired if it were the gas works. ^ "Yes," said a bystander, "for the nation." ? Jones thinks that instead of giving credit to whom credit is due. the cash had better bo paid. There is as much truth in this as wit. ? When does the rain become too fa miliar to a lady ? When it begins to pat? ter on her back. _ The first question that disturbed man. was the woman question; and it bids fair to be the last. ? It has been said tha;; fowls are the most economical thing farmers can keep, because for every grain they give a peck. ? A wag suggests that a suitable open? ing for many choirs would he, "0 Lord have mercy upon us miserable ? When did Moses sleep five in a bed? 1 When he slept with bis forefathers.