The Exeter Advocate, 1894-8-23, Page 7•
THE SELECT STORY TELLER
SHOAT, BRIGHT FICTION
tie Latest Stories By Popular, Well -
Known Authors. Light Reading For
the Boys and:Girls.
11rOUNTEBAN1i'S LOVE..
HERE were all sorts of ru-
more about her. One was
that she was the daughter of
a famous Southern states-
man, and had gone on the
stage to retrive the fallen
fortunes of the family. An-
other dubbed her a daughter of the slums
who had made her first appearance in an
;Fast Side dive. Still another declared
she had been married three times and
divorced twice. No one knew'the truth.
Everybody told a different tale
At all events her picturesque person-
ality was an interesting feature of metro-
politan life. No one was written of and
talked about so much that season, Every-
where she went she was pointed out and
whispered about. Her gowns, her jewels,
her dogs and her lace petticoats were
good for columns of "slush" in the dra-
ematle papers. V hether supping at Del's
with one of her many admirers, whether
;lying back in her Victoria in the Park,
her priceless laces and silks gathered
about her, her dainty feet reposing on
the great clusters of violets: with which
her carriage floor was strewn, or in her
'box at the races, surrounded by many of
,the best known men about town, mur-
Inuring all sorts of passionate love under
her pink parasol, Beatrix Osmond, comic
opera queen and fascinating woman, was
•ever the center of attraction and gossip.
'And when the summer was done and
'the fall season had opened; when critics
had praised her marvelous voice and the
town had gone wild over her shape, her
acting and her flawless face, Beatrice, at
the summit of her career, with everyone
'at her 'feet, every wish and ambition
gratified laughed in the faces of the n• en
snaking desperate vows to her, drove her
manager to drink by her whims and cap-
irices and yawned with ennui.
"Any life would be better than this,"
she mused as she stood one day looking
oat the window at the slowly falling
snow, dropping quietly and sadly down
like the tears of a .4orrowing woman.
The room in which she stood was a
luxurious nest, with its cushions, divans,
silken hangings, perfumes and flowers.
Over a chair hung a man+le of fur fit for
a duchess. On the dressing table glisten-
ed the sheen of silver and the polish of
ivory. An open fire gave the finishing
touch of comfort, and before it was drawn
a, velvet couch heaped high with cush-
ions, from the luxurious ease of which
she had just risen.
But instead of reveling in this delight-
ful sybaritish room, Miss Osmond con-
tinued to stare out the window at the
snow sifting down, down into the filth
and mud of the streets, where it was
speedily trodden out of sight under the
heels of the passers-by.
What did Beatrix see through the
misty veil of those slow dropping snow-
flakes ?
Many things.
An old-fashioned garden choked with
-weeds and brambles ; an old red farm
house, the doors and windows of which
were nailed up, two graves on a hillside
on which the snow was falling—fall-
ing—
Miss Osmond gave a little start and
turned from the window. The rosy fire
light danced and beckoned to her ; the
spacious couch held seductive arms to
her ;; the lilies on the mantel, the orchids
on the table nodded and smiled at her.
She paid no heed, but went over to her
desk and opening a drawer took out a
time -stained envelope and carefully open-
ed it. From it dropped two looks of hair
—both gray—one short and bristling—
the other — a long curling tress. She
stared blindly at them for a moment,
and over her pretty, painted cheeks tears
slowly dropped, even as the snow was
dropping down over those two lonely
,graves, far away on the bleak New Eng-
land hillside.
* * *
Tom Bohannon, mountebank was Bea-
trix's most devoted admirer. He chanced
'to be, for the moment, the favorite jester
•of the fickle town. He was so hopelessly
ugly he was fascinating. Popular, too,
,especially with the gilded youth, who
like to be seen in the company of well-
known actors. Tom was a rounder, un-
questionably, but in spite of his stormy,
reckless existence, down deep in his heart
he had kept an ideal or two. From the
moment he set eyes on this ravishing
woman he loved her, knowing full well
'that his passion was absolutely hopeless.
Cupid' and Tom Bohannon! Preposter-
^ons pair !
Strangely enough, however, this dis-
dainful beauty, who spurned men's hearts
like footballs, was always gentle to old
Tom. His touching devotion—the devo-
tion of a dog—moved her far more than
the savage pursuits and the deliberate,
skillfully -directed sieges of which she
was the object. Nothing delighted her
more than to thwart the consummate
deviltry which everywhere encompassed
her The roues of the town were on their
mettle. All sorts of traps were set for
(her; all sorts of gilded propositions made
her. Beatrix continued to lead her pur-
suers to the very threshold of love ; then
-.coolly locking the door in their faces,
mocked at them from the window. Bub
to poor old Bohannon she was always
a:gentle as a sister.
Tom wanted Trix to leave the stage.
"You've got a great start," he was wont
to say. "`Your voice is superb and your
beauty has carried the town by storm,
"but you are not one of us. You are as
proud as a princess. You walk over the
necks of the crowd. You must marry.
Go over to London and pick out a duke.
pd marry you myself Trix, poor buffoon
—mountebank that I am," with mock
heroics, "were it not for the fact that
. I'm wedded to my art."
All this, with a glass of champagne in
mile on his lips hand, a s and an ache
in his battered. old heart.
One snowy March morning as Trix sat
at the piano running over some new
music which had just been sent her,
Bohannon was shown in, looking in his
flake -strewn fur coat like a big Polar
bear.
''Hallo, little girl," he cheerfully called.
"Well, you are simply out of sight this
.
morning.Gad I that's a pretty gown.
Where dad you get the flowers ?,plung-
ing his long nose into the mass of white
lilies on the piano.
"I bought them myself." said Trix.
"Never !" cried Tom, "it isn't possible
athatyou have come to that."
"Yes," said the girl, "I bought them
because they remind me of—of my old
home. There wasa great elumpof them.
under mother's window."
It was the first time that .Bohannon had
ever heard Trix refer to her past life and
something in her face forbade any ques-
tions or jests. • But, thinking to direct
her thoughts from the sombre channel,
toward which they appeared to be drift-
ing, he rattled on at a likely pace, retail-
ing the gossip of the Rialto.
" 1 had a deuce of a shock this morn-
ing," he said, "thought I'd struck a
bloomin' ghost after hoping to see one
walk for quite a spell. Do you remark
ray witticism, Miss Osmond? It's posi-
tively my latest. But to my ghost, or.
rather my man, for it was substantial
flesh and blood after all. I don't believe
you ever knew him. No, he was before
your time surely. But Lord ! Lord ! how
he used to set the town ablaze when he
played Armand to .Nelly Dorchester's
"Camille." ` He's just back from Aus-
tralia—handsomer than ever—I declare
he looks like a prince of die blood. royal.":
Who is this phenomenon?" demand-
ed Miss Osmond, turning languidly
around on. the piano stool and idly drum-
ming with one hand on the keys.
" Charlie Singleton," replied Bohan-
non, helping himself to a sprig of white
lilies for his coat; "here, Trix pin this
on for me. Did you know him A?"
" Charlie Singleton?" said Beatrix in a
queer voice. "Tom, you must be mis-
taken." '
No, child. It was Singleton sure.
We walked two blocks together and had
a cocktail—why, Trix, how your hands
tremble. Good God! what is it?"
He caught her in his arms, for he
thought she was falling. But in a mo-
ment she recovered her self-possession
and went on fastening the spray of lilies
in his coat.
And what do you think he told mo ?
You see, Charlie never got on with his
wife. That was the reason he went out
to Australia. Two months ago his wife
died, and he posted home to look after
the child—a sweet, bright little girl."
Miss Osmond's nerves werehammering
now, and the blood was rushing to the
white face bent over the lily. Tom
gabbled on : "It seems he isn't dis-
couraged, though, for he's going to marry
again, and never could you guess the
girl. It's this English soubrette that's
coming over to join your company—
what's her name ? Gwendolin Clarendon
—he met her in Sidney—"
"Tom, Tom," a sharp cry of agony
broke from the lips of a woman who had
flouted so many lovers, "stop, stop, I
can't bear it,"
" Trix, what is this ?"
" I loved him long ago," she said,
mournfully. " I broke my mother's
heart—my father died insane from grief
—I was only a girl—an innocent, trust-
ing girl—Tom, he is the man who made
me the woman I am, selfish, heartless,
soulless."
Tom sat down by the table and took
his head between his hands. What de-
spairing thoughts swept through his
brain ? For a moment he thought he was
dyingg.
You loved him," he said dully, "and
he spoke of you this morning. Said he
had a great curiosity to see you—had
heard so much of your beauty. He's go-
ing to appear at the Thespian Hand
benefit next week—I suppose he'll speak
to you—you'll talk over old times"—he
started up fiercely at her cry of pain.
" No, no," she moaned, "Oh, Tom,
dear Tom, you are the only friend I have
on earth. I beg you never let him ap-
proach me—never let him touch me."
There was a gasp, a sigh, silence.
Like a lily broken from its stalk, the
girl huddled in an unconscious little heap
at Bohannon's feet.
* *
It was a great bill that was offered that
season at the annual benefit performance
of the Thespian Hand Society.
The famous and frail French actress,
whose art and amours had set the town
agog, appeared in one act of "Thedre" ;
there was the Spanish dancer, who wrig-
gled and stamped and kicked higher than
Guilderoy's kite ; there was the favorite
comedian, Mr. Tom Bohannon, in some
original sketches; the members of Jardine
& Lennox's Comic Opera Company, in-
eluding Miss Beatrix Osmond, gave one
entire act from the new opera "Pyramus
and Thisbe ; and according to the bills
the occasion was the reappearance of Mr.
Charles Singleton, just returnedlrom a
highly successful Australian trip. .
The house was packed. There was
scarcely an inch of standing room. The
boxes were filled with well-known people,
professionals, men about town, young
fools and chorus girls, dramatic critics
and divorcees.
Miss Osmond, as "Thisbe," received an
ovation. She went through her role as
though inspired. Long after the sweet
tones of her lovely voice .echoed in many
a heart. Never had she looked so beau-
tiful. Her cold, statuesque, marble -like
loveliness was especially remarked.
" She looked like an angel," a ballet
girl said afterward.
Immediately upon the conclusion of
the scene from "Pyramus and Thisbe,"
the stage was set for the historic drama
in which Singleton was to make his re-
appearance. The house fairly rose at
him, the old idol, who had been away so
long. Flowers were tossed him, and
jewelled hands saluted him.
Beatrix stood in the wings watching
him, handsome, graceful, full of divine
fire, a little older and grayer than in the
old days, but, oh God ! how dear.
She idly marked his superb costume.
It was very pretty. The lace on his
sleeve was worth a small fortune. How
still the hour. ' What was that noise ?
She looked up.
Singleton stood directly under the huge
piece of "batting" which came crashing
down from the flies. He would surely
have been killed had not that slight figure
rushed from the wings, pushed him one
side, and then gone, face$ownwards, un-
der the heavy wooden footpiece of a drop.
A groan ran through the house as the
audience half rose. There' was a mo-
mentary glimpse of a motley crowd rush-
ing from all the wings upon the stage;
ballet girls in flimsy skirts; minstrels
pale through their burnt cork • the great
act: herself
renswringing her ha
g ids and
pouring forth French hysterics and pro.
falsity.
Then the curtain fell. The orchestra
struck up a popular topical song, but
ceased after a bar or two when Dick
Adams, the stage manager, came before
the eurtain and said in a dazed sort of
way that, owing to the deplorable acci-
dent which had just occurred, the per-
formance would be concluded at once,
Behind scenes all was confusion and
chaos. The physician summoned from
the audience held a limp, little white
band in his a moment, slowly shook his
head and said gravely to the terror-
stricken group about :
it's all over."
v
There is a tangible mass of soft white
draperies, whosesaaowy surface was stain-
ed with blood, lay Boatrix, dead;. Across
her sweet breast was a spray of °rushed
white lilies, whose fragrance, more over-
powering in dying, stole softly upward.
At her side, his hands flinched, his face
ghastly with horror, stood the man for
whom she had given her young life. He
knew that lovely face reproaching him
with piteous, sightless eyes—with a groan
he stooped to lift her to his heart.
But a man with a face as livid as his
own and blazing eyes, thrust him back.
"Po not dare to touch her," ho said.
With au oath Singleton turned on
him, but Bohannon added, almost in a
whisper :
" She asked me once never to let you
touch her and -I shall keep my promise
to the dead."
There is another grave on the lonely
hillside far away behind the desolate
farmhouse and the old-fashioned garden
full of weeds. At its head every spring
bloom stately, odorous white lilies, and
over it falls the snow as quietly as the
tears fall down a woman's cheeks.
And the only visitor this lonely grave
ever has is anugly-faced buffon—a fellow
of infinite jest, whose quips and gambols
aro wont to set the table in a roar.
A Woman's Exper1eneein a Strike.
A very clever woman on the north
side, Chicago, has had an experience with
the strike. This is the way she tells it :
" I wanted my rugs shaken, and told
my domestic to look out for a man. She
soon reported that one was belo w. and I
went to tell him what Iwanted, Be was
a typical Hibernian laborer, with a brogue
that was almost an impediment to his
speech. I made a contract with him, but
he said he must have an assistant in or-
der to do the work satisfactorily. I bold
the girl to get an. assistant, and a few
minutes later she told me there was an-
other man below, and I went to see him.
He was a very black negro. I engaged
him and told the girl to show him where
the other man was at work. I returned'
to my room, only to be called below again
by my girl, who said there was trouble.
When I got down stairs there was the
Irishman at my door.
' Ye got a naygar to assist me in the
baitin av the car -pit," he said.
" I told him I had employed a eolored
man to help him.
" Well, dy'e think Oim goin to wur-
ruk wid a naygar? Oim purty low
down, but Oim dommed ef Oim low
enough to wur-ruk wid a navgar.'
" I was anxious to have the work done,
and reasoned with him. I offered to give
him extra pay, and to pacify him I paid
him in advance. With that I returned
to my room, only to be called down
'again. This time it was the colored
man.
"' Sense me, missus," he said, ' but
dat dar Arshman axed me ef I were a
membah of de union. I tole him dat I
were workin' foh myself jes now, and he
axed me foh to go to de saloon an' brung
him some whiskey. I tole -'im I wa'n't
no drunkard, an' he called me a dom'd
niggah, an' said he'd have my hawt's
blood ef I didn't go. I'm a niggah•and I
can't help dat, but ain't gwine to shake
no cairpets wif an Arshman. He buse
me cause I done tole him I doan't know
noffin about dem clannygalls.'
" I gave him extra pay and sent him
back to work. In less than a half hour
the patrol waggon was in front of my
door, and the officer in charge said he had
just received word that there was a riot
in my back yard. I told him how to get
there, and a few minutes laterl saw them
walking the Hibernian to the waggon.
The colored man had to be carried. I
telephoned to my husband and he said
he would telephone to Gen. Miles to send
up a company of regulars. And forget-
ting that my husband was a humorist I
pulled down the blind's, had all the doors
locked and retired in a state of nervous
prostration. I do not wonder that the
city is paralyzed over this strike. I am
almost paralyzed myself."
Daily Duties.
Life, for the most part, is made up of
what we call ordinary duties. Our bless-
ed Lord might have performed great
miracles every hour; he might have il-
lumined night with the light of noonday;
or have drawn the curtain of darkness
over the face of the sun at noonday. He
might hourly have shaken the world with
great earthquakes, but He did not use
His divine power in any one of these
ways. Much of His work was of the
humblest kind. He often addresses audi-
ences of one person, and to such listeners
He uttered some of His deepest and
heavenliest truths. He did the work of
a Sunday school teacher toward the two
disciples on their way to Emmaus; and
He went after the man cast out of the
synagogue with the sympathy of such a
teacher after an absent pupil. On the
morning of His glorious resurrection He
took pains carefully to lay the napkin
that had been about His brow 111 a place
by itself. He would not leave the grave
in a state of confusion. His example is
most valuable to us at all these points.
In daily duty there may be the den of
lions and the furnace heated seven times
hotter than it is wont to be heated. There
is oftener greater heroism in performing
the duties of our humdrum life than in
the so-called great occasions of heroie en-
deavor.
A Rush at Night of 4,000 Cattle.
Mr. Fulton relates an experience he un-
derwent on the ranch in Nevada of Rus-
sell & Bradley. The firm had about 4,000
head of cattle, and, as the supply of hay
was running low, that which was on
hand was stacked and surrounded by a
fence, and was doled out to the cattle in
small wisps, just sufficient in quantity to
barely keep the animals alive. Mr.
Fulton states that one night after every-
body on the ranch had retired they were
awakened by a low, rumbling noise
which sounded like the approach of some
great atmospheric disturbance. Becom-
ing Iouder, the men discovered it to be
the lowing and bellowing of the cattle,
who were soon making a hideous noise.
Hastily dressing themselves, the men
hurried forth to ascertain thecause of the
trouble, but before they had reached the
herd. the vast body of animals had hurled
themselves against the fence surrounding
the stacks of hay, and were piled in a
compact, struggling mass which had
literally levelled the hay from view.
Nothing could be done with the cattle at
the time, and the next morning an in-
vestigation disclosed that 850 head had
been literally tramped to death in the
mad rush of the excited herd for the
tempting stacks of hay.
Herat, in. Afghanistan, is the city which
has been most often' destroyed, Fifty-six
tithes have its walls been laid in ruins, and
the same number of time have they been
erected again"
MISCELLANEOUS READ( G
GRAYE AS. wUI4L AS GAY.
Reading For Leisure Moments i'or Old
and Young, Interisting and. ProtIta-
bie.
A Railroad Through the Farm ..
There's thet black abomernation, Chet big loco-
motive there,
Its smoke -tali like a pirut flag, awavin' through
• the air ;
An'Imys'so1, twelve times a day, and never
raise any arm
An'see that fret, black monster go a-snortin'
tarougbmy farm.
I ry fapilther'sggrirn farmstock—
, my grandsir's farm—X come of
My great -great -great -great grandsir's farm, way
back to Plymouth Rock ;
Why, bacfamilky in natheme, sixteen hundreds it winin our
An' no man dared to trespass till that tootin'
railroad came.
1 sez, "You can't go through this farm, you hear
it fiat an' plain l"
An' then they blabbed about the right of"emin-
ent domain."
"Whofol's kEminentstosea Domain ?" sez I. "I want you
Thet on this farm there ain't no man so eminunt
ez ane."
An' w'en their gangs begun to dig I went' out
with a gun,
An' they rushed me off. to prison till their
wretched work win done.
"If I can't purtect my farm," sez I, "w'y then
it's my !dee
You'dthbetterefree.s' "uet off c ili& this 'the country of
There, there, ye hear it toot again an' break the
peaceful calm;
I tell ye, you black monster, you've no business
on my farm
An' men ride by in stovepipe hats, an' women
loll in silk.
An' lookin' in my barnyard say, "See thetof
codger milk."
Git off my farm, you stuck-up doods, who set in
there an' grin
I ownit thistai farm, railroad an' all, an' I will fence
Ding-dong toot -toot, you black of fiend, you'll
find w'en you come back
Aa' 01' rail fence, without no bars, built straight
across the track.
An' then you stuck-up floods inside, you Pull-
man upper crust,
Will know this codger'll hold his farm an' let
the railroad bust.
You'll find this rallroacl all fenced in—'twon't do
no good to talk—
If you want to git to Boston, w'y, jest take yer
laigs an' walk.
Blasts From the Ram's Horn.
It was a lie that killed Christ.
Men are killed when a boy dies.
The growler never grows in grace.
Little sins are always good. looking.
A feet never apologizes to anybody.
" The memory of the just is blessed,"
God's almanac has no to -morrow in it.
The man who has no Godowns nothing.
Truth is what God says about any-
thing.
God loves the man who loves his
brother.
Vire hurt ourselves when we displease
God.
The man who looks high will never live
low.
A PECULIAR WILL CASE.
J T -TF; rise of James McCurdy,
a young attorney of New
York City, was attended
with a number of peculiar
circumstances of which the
public in generalwereignor-
ant. His brilliant work in
the celebrated Morris vs. Morris will case
won for him a measure of fame that
would mean much to any young man in
the legal profession. The case was a
hard-fought one, involving much labor
on the part of the attorneys, especially
for the young attorney who sought to
break the will whereby James E. Morris
had left his entire estate to his scape-
grace foster -son, George M. Morris, and
had disinherited his daughter Edith,
who, in the eyes of the world, had ever
been her father's favorite. McCurdy had
known Edith for many years, and, while
they had never been actually betrothed,
their names were more or less associated.
The young lawyer himself was wealthy,
so the match was deemed a fitting one,
and Edith did not seem averse to his at-
tentions. The news that she had been
disinherited was received by the world
with surprise. The estate was a large
one, and the last act of her father was in-
explicable. No one was more mystified
than James McCurdy.
" Of course I don't care myself that
your money is gone, Edith," he said,
"'for I have enough for both of us. But
it does seem strange that that scoun—"
" Don't call names, Jim," replied
Edith, sadly. "It won't do any good. I
never thought how it would seem to be
left dependent, but I dare say I will get
on somehow. I can teach music, or be-
come a companion, or paint china, or
" You shall do nothing of the kind,"
he retorted hotly. "You will marry me
and have everything you want. Still I
do not care to see that fellow who was
never a brother to you—and you know
what a life he led your father—take what
is your just due."
" I don't want to marry you, .Tim, and
bring you nothing."
"You will bring yourself. That is
sufficient. Still, if you will put this case
in my hands I will see that you get your
just dues."
" You mean to take it into the courts,
Jim ?" she cried in consternation.
"I mean just that. Contest the wiIl."
"Never. I could never contest the
will of my father."
" I don't believe it was his will."
"What, Jim?"
"I think it a forgery."
The upshot of the matter was that the.
will was contested. McCurdy found it
up -hill work collecting evidence, Noth-
ing that he could learn shook his convic-
tion that the father was not out of his
mind when he made the will. He bent
all his energies toward showing that the
will was a forged document, but found
that he made little headway in the task.
The foster son had a friend, Clarence
Woodruff, a dissipated young man, and
the attorney could not help associating
him with the forged document. He had
Woodruff watched, but in spite of his
zeal nothing came of the closest scrutiny
of the young man's actions. Day after
day he worried over the, case until final-
ly he was in despair. Edith alone was
calm and indifferent. But now McCurdy
had his professional reputation at stake
and he clung to the preliminary work on
the case with dogged tenacity, although
h
baffled at every step. On tday, while
pondering over the matter at his club,
his attention was arrested by a familiar
voice.
" Hello, Jim !"
` Jack, old boy!"
The two men clasped hands and were
soon Iunehing together and conversing
with much animation.
"By the way, Jack," said 1l4oCurdy,
remembering the fad of his old friericl,
"are yon doing anything in hypnotism,
lately ?"
" 1' should think. I was. I have become
quite a celebrity in an aaiate1 r way on
the other side of the water --belong to
two London societies. But how are
things with you, Jim ? Married? No ?
Going toe be ? Why that sigh ? Come,
unbos )m yourself."
With that Jim related all the perplex-
ities of the case in hand and theother
listened with marked attention.. For
several hours they conversed, and at the
end of that time calve to some conable-
ion,,
"Pooh ! I don't believe it will work,,
Jack
"There is no harm trying, You are
sure you have told me all about Wood-
ruff ?"
A" Yes,"
"He is the man whom you suspect
forged the will ?"
" I do."
"Then if I succeed .do you want him
for a witness ?"
" No ; the other side are going to call
him. He was well acquainted with
Edith's father, and I believe claims to
have been present arisen the will was
drawn."
"" You must point out Woodruff to
As they left the club a tall, well-dress-
ed fellow passed.
" Thetis the man," said Tim.
" I won't forget him. Tell me where
he is usually to be found."
The lawyer named several fashionable
resorts and the other left him, saying at
parting :
"I will look around in about a week
and report."
The week passed and Jack was as good
as his word. Ile appeared in evident
glee.
" It's all right, Jim."
Then the two conspirators went out and
had a bottle at Delmonico's and further
devised ways and means. The case came
on for trial and Jim presented his wit-
nesses.
itnesses. He asked Edith to be there that
her presence might exercise a certain
sympathetic effect upon the jury, but she
refused, dreading the publicity. In open-
ing Jim stated that he expected to show
that the will filed for probate was a false'
and fraudulent document, a statement
received by George's attorneys with
smiles of amusement. It must be con-
fessed that the testimony of his witnesses
did not carry out his claim. The best
that he showed was that Edith's father
was always kind to her, loved her ani
had no reason for disinheriting her.
When Jim's witnesses were exhausted
the spectators in the courtroom were
forced to confess that he had a poor ease.
He had shown nothing, except by the
most indirect inference. The other side
built up what the young attorney at once
mentally characterized "'a gigantic tissue
of falsehood." The principal witness
was Woodruff, who testified that he had
once heard the deceased say that he
would. disinherit Edith. During the di-
rect examination of this witness George
sat cool and confident. He had supplied
the motiveforthedisinheritance, and then
went on to say that the old gentleman's
aversion to counsel on the other side, who
was paying his daughter attentions, was
the reason he had said he wouldleave her
without a penny. The witness wasques-
tioned at length and told a story that was
most effective for George.
" Take the witness," said the attorney
for that young man.
Jim consulted with a gentleman who
was seated directly behind him—a man
who possessed a glittering pair of eyes,
which he had kept steadfastly fixed on
the witness.
" Is it all right, Jack ?"
" Yes ; I'm sure. Go slowly at first,
though."
Jim turned to the witness.
" You are sure you heard Mr. Morris
say that he would disinherit his daughter
if she did not stop going with me?"
The witness hesitated, and finally an-
swered in a bewildered way
No; I'm not sure those were just his
words."
"Did his words imply any such thing?"
" I can't say that they did."
George
regarded the witness with con-
sternation, and Jim strode out in front
of him and threw out question after
question.
" Did you ever hear my name mention-
ed
entioned by Mr. Morris ?"
" Now, did he, as a matter of fact, ever
say that he would disinherit his daught-
er ?"
" No,"
" Why did you say he did?"
"Because George Morris gave me $10,-
000 to testify in this case."
" It's a lie!" shouted that person.
" Your honor," said Jim coldly, "I pro-
test against any interruption. This is
their witness, your honor, and I assert
that I am following a legitimate line of
questions. I give your honor my word
that we have not tampered with this
witness. If there has been any wrong-
doin, I protest that it was not on our
side."
" You may proceed," said the court.
" Now, Mr. Woodruff, is it not a fact
that Mr. Morris did not disinherit his
daughter ?"
" It is,"
" Is it not a fact that in the true will
he left her everything ?"
' n It is,"
Here George whispered to his attorney:
"That hound has sold us out."
"Is it not true that you manufactured
a will to suit your purposes ?"
"It is."
"'This was a conspiracy between you
and George Morris to defraud an innocent
girl ?"
" It was."
" Where is the true will ?"
" In George Morris' possession,"
Where has he concealed it ?"
In his trunk in his room."
Here ensued a scene of confusion,
George sprang to his feet with the inten-
tion of making an assault upon the -wit-
ness. Officers were sent to the room and
found thew ill.
It was a peculiar ending to a peculiar
case, but whenever Jack in these days
calls upon Jim and Edith and sees how
happy they are in their married life he
does not regret the part he took in the
case, although he did hypnotize the
principal witness for the other side,
A. clothing dealer down on North street
is nothing if not energetic. He adver-
tises widely and covers his walls and fills
his windows with attractive signs. Put
once he became too energetic ` for
g , in the
Most conspicuous place of his largest
window he displayed this sign: "Don't
go anywhere else to be cheated ; step
right in !"
A Natural Error.
Two Pi ttsburgers were talking a day
Or two ago, when a third, who had over -
hoard part of the conversation, stepped
nearer and saki
" I beg your „pardon, gentlemen, but
w.:uld you tell me what actorou were
speaking of? Ibeloug to the theatrical
profeesion myself, I believe you said the
gentleman you were alluding to was
dead?
" We were not speaking of an actor,"
replied one of them, " We were talking
of the death of Maley Hassan sultan o
Morocco. What made you' think we
were speaking of an actor ?"
"I beg a thousand pardons ! My mis-
take,
gentlemen. I caught something as
to his having 2,000 wives, and I thought
of course he must be either a Mormon or
an actor."
Preposterous,
" The new president has no more idea
how a sewing society should, ,be con-
ducted than a child."
" What did she do ?"
" Planned a lot of sewing for the mem-
bers."
Just So.
Strawber—"I suppose you are looking
forward to a pleasant time this summer,
renewing old friendships?"
Singerly—"I don't know about that,
but I expect to renew a great many old
engagements."
•
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