The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on February 17, 1892 · Page 6
Get access to this page with a Free Trial
Click to view larger version

The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 6

Publication:
Location:
Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, February 17, 1892
Page:
Page 6
Cancel
Start Free Trial

Page 6 article text (OCR)

THE KKPUDLICAX, ALOONA, IOWA, WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 1802. B^ FERGUS W. HUME. "Not qulto eo green," he said, forcing a •Bffiilo. "I thought you'd a better opinion o£ ttje than that, Mr. Calton. Ask him?—no." "Then how did you find out?" "Tho fact Is Moroland is employed as a barman In tho Kangaroo hotel," " A barman I" echoed Calton; "and ho camo •out hero us a. gentleman of independent for- tone. Why, haug it,-man, that fn itself in «iHici«nt to prove that no nan no motive to murder Whyto. Hot-eland pretty well lived on Whyto, so what could have Induced him to hill his golden goose and become n barman •—pshaw I the idea is absurd. 1 ' "Well, yon may bo rightabout the matter," said Kil.sjp, rather angrily, "and if Gorby makes mistakes I don't protend to bo infallible. But at nil events when 1 saw llorelnml in the bar he wore n silver ring on tho forefinger of his right hand." "Silver isn't a diamond." "No, but it shows that was the finger ho ' \vas accustomed to wear his ring on. \Vben I sa\v that 1 determined to search his room. 1 managed to do so while he was out and found" "A mare's nest?'' Kilsip nodded. "And so your castlo of cards falls to tho ground. 1 ' said Calton, jestingly. "Vonriden is absurd. Moroland no more committed the murder than I did. Why ho was too •drank on that night to do anything." "Humph—so he says." "Well, men don't calumniate themselveu for nothing." "It was iv lesser danger to avert a greater one,'' replied Kilsip, coolly "1 am surethafc Moreland was not drunk on that night. Ho only said HO to escape awkward questions m to bis movements. Depend upon it he Icnowu more thau he lets out." "Well, and how did you intend to sett •.about the matter #" "1 shall start looking for the coat first." "'Ahl you think he has hidden it?" 11 I'm su.ro of it. My theory is this: When Moreland j;ot out of the cab at Powlett street" "But ho didn't," interrupted Calton, . angrily. "Let us suppose, for the sake o£ argument, that ho did," said Kilsip, quietly. "1 say when he left tho cab he walked up Powlett street, turned to the left down George street, and walked back to town through the Fit;-,- roy gardens, then, knowing that the coat was noticeable, ho threw it away, or hid it, and walked out of tho gardens through tho town"—T"In evening dress more noticeable thau COl'.t.." "He wasn't in evening dress," said Kilsip, quietly. "No morn ho was," observed Calton, eagnrly, recalling the evidence at the trial. "Another bkr.v to yor.r theory. Tho murderer was in evening dress—the cabman said so." "Yes; because he had soon Mr. Fitzgerald in evening divss n few minute.? before, and •thought that !:.• was t!:•> same man who got into the cab with V.'hytc." "Well, what of that?" "If you remember, Uio second man had his coat buttoned up. Morelaucl wore dark trousers—at least, 1 suppose; so—aud, with the coat bntt'j:i-:.'d up, it. was easy for the cab- m:xi) to make tho mistake, believing, as ho •did. thst it v.-as ilr. Fitzgerald." "That sounds better," r-.au! Calton, thoughtfully "Aud what aro you going to do;" "Loo!; for the coat in thu Kitzroy gar- | "i j ;ihaw! a wild goose chase." "Possibly," said Kilsip, as he aroso to go. "And when shall I see you again';" said "Oh, to-night," said Kilsip, pausing at tho door. "I had r.i-.arly forgotten, Mother Guttersnipe wants to set? vou." "Why' What's up-."' "Slip's dying, and wants to to!! yon some score t." '•1-losamin Moore, by Jove!" said Calton. "ir'lic'li tell niH something about her. I'll get to l.l.e bottom of this yet. All right, I'll be hen; at S o'clock." "Very well, sir!'' and tho detective glided out. "1 rroader if ;.iint old ling knows any- tiling'-" said Calton lo him.-v:lf, as he resume'.! his seat. "Khc- might havs overheard somo convrivjrvtion (u't-.w.vn \Vliyte and his mis- trcsr-;, and is :;:•-:::;' '..n split. U'ell, I'm afraid when Fitzgerald d. .es confess 1 v.'ill know all about it befc;-eh:;:'.d." I'TKK MXVII. SM:MC JOINS nil: MAJOHITY .-! .-ifij.'ni.it.-'.ii'iir, ivil.sip called it *i n'cl..•!•;;, ia order to tho .-:i|ii::lid l.il/vrmrhs of tin- b::iT,.-:rir waiting gro:'.i!?d they irii li,)i;rke Direct, and i:;:."ro!V ..:id (lurk !.i> familiar to trr.-;?:i|;u's de::, ! i:<i.'liill;> el.-(.>. sl.airs, ivi:icli ilii-ir weight, iiiid .Mother "May t die if I ain't," croaked the hag. l(1 Er pore father died of drink, an' I'm a foU lerln' 'im to tho same place in the same way. Y.OU weren't about towi In the old days, or you'd a bin after her, blarst ye." "After llosanua?" "The werry girl," answered Mother Guttersnipe. "Slw were on the stage, she were, an 1 my eye, what a swell she were, with all the coves a-dyin' for 'er, an 1 she dancin' o?er their black 'earts, cuss 'em; but sho was • Hays good to ma till 'o came." "Who came?" '"El" 5'olled tho old troman, raising herself on her arm, her eyes sparkling with via- dietivt fury. '"E, n-comin' around with cli'monds and gold, and a-ruinin' niy pore girl, an' bow 'e's 'eld 'is bloomin' 'end up all these years as if he wore n saint, cuss Mm— cuss 'im I" "Who does sho mean r whispered Calton to Kilsip. "Mean!' 1 screamed Mother Guttersnipe, whose sharp ears had caught tho muttered question. "Why, Marl; Prettlby I" "Good God!" Calton rose up in his astonishment, and even ICilsip's inscrutable countenance displayed some surprise. "Aye,'e were a swell in them days," pursued Mother Guttersnipe, "and 'e comes a-philauderin' round my gal, blarst 'im, an' seduces or, and leaves 'er and 'er child to starve, like a black 'earted villain tis 'o were." "The child! Her name I 1 ' "Bah," retorted the hag, with scorn, "as tf you didn't know my gran'darter Sal." "Sal, Hark Frettlby's child*" "Yes, an' as pretty n girl as tho other, tho' the 'appeued to bo born on the wrong side o! the 'edge. Oh. I've seen 'er n-sweepiu' along in 'er silks an' satins as tho' we were dirt— an' Sal 'or 'alf sister—cuss 'er." Exhausted by the efforts sho had made, tho old woman sank bach in her bed, while Calton sat in a dazed manner, thinking over the astounding revelation that had just been made. That Rosanna Moore should turn out to be Mark Frettlby's mistress he hardly wondered at; after all, he was but a man, and in his youtig days had beer, no better and no worse than the rest of his friends. Rosanna Moore was pretty, and was evidently oue of those women who—rakes at heart— prefer the untrammeled freedom of being Ji mistress to the sedate bondage of a wife. In questions of morality, so many people live in glass houses that there are few nowadays who can afford to throw stones, so Calton did not think any worse of Prettlby for his youthful follies. Hut what lie did wonder at was that Frettlby should he so heartless aa to leavo his child to the tender mercies of an old liag like Mother Guttersnipe. It was so entirely different Iron) what he knew of the man, that he was inclined to think it wax some trick of the old woman's, "Did Air. Frettlby know Sal was his child?' 1 he i'.s!-'.ed. "Not. 'e, 1 ' snarled Mother Guttersnipe, in ;-.:i (v:u!tuat tone, " 'e thought she'was dead, V- (iid, arter Hoseannri j;ave him the f;o by.' 1 "And why did you not toll him'" " : C«(iss I wanted Vo break liis Vart, if'e V.id any,'' said the old beldame, vindictively. ••.Sal was (i-;;ojn' lo i j l) a.- fast ns she could till she was ink from m«. Ii' she had gone -.eld jrot into quod I'd ave gone to him, and said 'Loo!; at yor darter! "'U-.v I've rained her as yon did, ;niii<-'. " "You old devil." .siid Calton, revolted »t the malignity i>i the ychemo. "You have vjrniicrd an iunoooat girl for this." ••N<i;i.r u! )•<>:;;• pri-achm, 1 ' ivr.oriod the brig t-u!!e:i!y; "1 ain't, wea brought up for a saint, 1 ain't—an 1 1 wanted tc pay 'im out, blarst 'im —'e paid me wi-ll to 'old my tonffiio about my darti.T, an I've got it 'ere." layin;; her hand on !he pillow "Ail K'old, good gold—;;n' mine*. i'ii;=s n;e.'' Calton arose, lie felt quit-? sie.lc at this exhibition of human depravity, und longed tc be away As !)e was putting on his hat, however, the two girls entered with a doctor, wlif bowed 10 Kiisip, cast a sharp serutiniz- ing t'JaiiiTr at. Caltiui, and then walked over to tho bed. The two girls w^nt back to their corner, and waited in silence for tho end. Mother (.''uuersnipe had fallen back in the lied, with one claw-like band clutching tho pillow, as if to protect her beloved gold, and over bar face a deadly paleness was spreading, which told the practiced eye of tho doctor that the end was near He knelt down beside the bed fur a moment, holding the candle to th? dyin;c woman's face. Khe opened her eyes, and muttered drowsily. "Who's you' go t ell,' 1 but then she- seemed to grasji tho situation ufjain, and sbu started up wi;.ii a shrill yell, which made tho heart".'* shuddor, it. was so weird and eerie. "My money I" sho yelled, clasping tho pillow in her skinny arms, "it's till mina/ya shan't have it, blarst ye." The doctor arose from bis knees, and sliriiiTgcd his shoulders. "Not worth while doing anything." Ij3 said, coolly, "she'll be dead soon.'' The old worn:v.i. mumbling over her pil- losv, etiu'.;ht tho word, and burst into tears. "Dead: deadl my poor Kosanna, witli 'er golden an. always lovin' 'er poro mother er away, an' she ca;ne. back to die clinging to Uf& She clutcheil up'96tt6 61 the shining pieces, and held thorn up to the three men as they stood silently beside the bed, b«6 tier bands trembled so that the sovereigns kept falling from them on the floor f with metallic clinks. • "All mine—all mine, 1 ' she shrieked, loudly. "Give me my life—gold—money—cuss ye—I sold my soul for it—save me—give me my life," and, with trembling hands, she tried to force tho gold on them. They did not say a word, but stood silently looking at her, while the two girls in the corner Clung to- ther, and trembled with fear. "Don't loots ut mo—don't, 1 * cried tho hng, falling down again amid the shining gold. "Ye want me to die. tilnrst y'o—i shnn't— [shan't—give me my gold," clawing at tho scattered sovereigns. "I'll take it with me— I shan't die—(J--U—'' whimpering. •>[ n \ n i^ done nothhi'- let mt live—give me a Bible- save me. U--tmss< it— O— ,G—,'' innJ she fall l)ack mi the bed. n corpse. The faint, light of the rand In flickered on -he shining gold and the dead face, framed n tangled whitt- hair, while the three men, sick at heart, turned uway in silence to seel; assistance, with that wild cry still ringing in their cars— ll O— save mo, G— I" y YE ON WATCHES. and ing cards with a .-!,'iI,U'r:i!v lo-.ik.ng girl at tho div.l tablu by th-.- I'-ini b^ht nf a tallow cy:i•die. They UiUi ^f.nin:,' lo their feet as tho TS eutiTud, and the eili-,;i cliild pushed in a sullen manner toward u broken el-air 1 !••. Mr Calton, v. U J'v.r <.-<:;-.:IT :: Uldij llL'J ii d which she had I'a sl:o huddli-d tin.- i • seated .such a giw invdlantarilv rei-c. tin; other girl shuttled into i-.nMi. .-.ad .-i-Mii-bed down i'lii: U'-.i-o oi Their entry '.> aa uiiL\-i:-y slumber into l;':i, ar.d sitting up in bed, luUu's i-uuiid her. and pro- v.;m<i s;i; crack' th-r. Gallon i led. Her while hair was til) v took —Ule—on':: Her vuic wail, that shiver and ull unliiJi'.ail. ••'.'-! hung in v.un:;U-id masses over licrsboulder in snowy profusion. Her t'acu, parched and wrmUled, »v.h tho boukcil uoso . and b..\uly bhu-i; eyt:.-., lii;e iho.se of u mouso, was poliyd forward, and her skinny arms, (xitx* to tliu shouidcr, v/ero waving about us she grasptd at the bedclothes with her claw like li;«:di She was evitlently growing very weak, so Calton turned lo Kilsip mid told him iu a ivliispw to get ti doctor. Tho detectivo scribbled u note, 0:1 somu paper, and, giving it to Li^sr, ordered her to take it. At this, the other girl rose, and, putting her arm in that of the child's, they left together. "Them two young 'ussuys gonej" said Mother Guttersnipe. "Right you are, I don't want what I'vo got to tell to get into tho uoospaper, I don't." "And what ia itf" asked Calton, bending . forward. The old woman took another drink of gin, . and it seemed to put life into her, for she sat up in the bud and commenced to talk rapidly, . «9 though she were afraid of dying before her secret was told "You've been 'ere aforeF' she said, pointing one skiuuy linger at Caltou, "and you wanted to iiud out ail about 'er; but you didn't, blarst ye. Bho wouldn't let me tell, for she was always a proud jade, a ilouuciu' •- round while 'er pore mother was a starvin'." "Her mother I Are you Kosaaua Mooro's •s»otherir .cried Caltou, considerably tiston- (died away in a long, melancholy madf t.li'.- two girla in tha corner put tlif'ir lingers in their ears. "My guou i.iimau." said the doctor, banding over tiie tied, "would you not like to aeo a minister*" She looked at him with her bright, beady eyes, already somewhat dimmed with tho mists of dealh. and said, iu u harsh, low whisper— "Why'" "Because you have only n short time to live," said the doctor, gently. "You are dying." Mother Guttersnipe sprang up, and seized his arm with :i scream of terror. "Ityiii 1 , dyiii' —nb; r.ol'' she wailed, clawing his sleeve. "1 ain't (it to diu—cuss mo; save me—save me, I don't know where I'd go to, s'elp me—.-;;: vo i::e." The doctor tried to remove ber hands, but she held on with wonderful tenacity. "Ic is impossible," ho said briefly, Tha hag full back hi her bed. / sold uty soul for ii. Til give you money to save me," she shrieked; "good money—all niine—all mine. Bee—see—'ero—suverains," and, tearing ber pillow open, she took out a canvas bag, and from it poured a gleaming stream of gold. Gold—gold—it rolled all over the bed, over the door, away into the dark corners, yet uo oue touched it, so enchained were tliey by Hia hrsi-rible gDoctacle of the dvin^r woman HIS BRAMp pte6e NEW MttMOttlAL tlMfe- BY HIMSELF. ' Not Kvei-y Ivtfth HUM tho Kcr.ve to Get Hl« Watch HcpivlriMl, but Wlllbini Trle«l It—A Pitthotlb nioral with n TaH tc» ti. .Copyright, ISSK, by Rtljjar VV. Nyo.| THOMASTO.V, Conn., Pebrtmry.—Thlsis where the Beth Thomas clocks are imulo. It is a city of 4.000 poople, most of whom CHAl'TEF. XX VIII. MAHK HT.ETTI.MY IIAH A VISITOIi. According to the tropv l<;»>lc.« of our youth, "prucrastmut.ion is the thief of time," und, certainly. Brian found that the remark was a true one. He had been nearly a week in town, yet could not make up his mind to go and see Calton, and though morning after morning he set out with the determination to go straight to Chancery lane, yet he never arrived there 1 . He bad gon« back to his lodgings in Hast Melbourne, and passed his time either In the house or in taking long walks in the garden, or albnj; the bauks> of the muddy Yarra. When ho did go into town, on business connected with the sale of his station, lie drove there oikl back in n hansom, for he had u curiotw shrinking against seeing any of his friends. As soon as his station was sold, and ho married to Madge, he determined to leavo Australia, and never set foot on it again, Bus until he could leave the place he saw no one, nor mixed with his former friends.sogre.it was his dread at being stared nt. Mrs. Sampson, who had welcomed him back witb shrill exclamations of delight, was loud in her expressions of disapproval as to the way he was shutting himself up. Your eyes bein 'ollow, 1 ' said the sympo/- thix.iug cricket, "it is naf.'Tal as it's want of air. which my 'usbaud's uncle, being a drug- •ist an' well to do in Collingwood. ses as 'ow a want of ox-eye-gent, being u Krench name, as 'e called l.ho utmi.-ipeare. were fearful for puilin people down, an' makin' 'em go ofl 1 their food, which you hardly oats anythin 1 , an' not bein n lnit.tcrlly it's expected us your appetite would lie larger. 1 ' "Oh, I'm nil right," said Brian, absently, lighting n cigart-t.u and only half listening to his: landlady's gun-idoiis chatter, "but ii' any aw. call:- li'-l UIUP.I I'm not. iu. I don't want to Lie bothered ty visitors." "Bein 1 us w)i.-i? n thing us Kolomon ever said," auswi'ivd Mrs. Sampson, energetically, "which nr, dcubt 'e was m good calth when seein' thu tjuucu of Shybui-, o.s is necessary win-:', any one calls, und not (velm 1 disposed. Vo siier.k, vvhich I'm uft:::i tl'.at way myself on occi'.sior.s, my spirits iiein' low, as 1'vo 'card tell sod«r wnter 'r.vo that, ell'ect on 'eiu which you takes iv with a dash of brandy, tho' to be -iii.ru thai might tie the cause of your want •.«! life, und •-drat that, bell," she finished, hurrying nut of tin* room ns the front doui bull sounded, "winch my legs is a-givin way under me thro' bein' overworked." Meanwhile l-iriiin sat and smoUed contentedly, miicli rehi.'ved by the duimrUireof Mrs. Sampson, with bur constant chatter; but ha soon heard IKT mount the stairs again, and she entered tl.o room ivitb a telegram, which she handed Lo her lodger "'Opin'it don't contain had noose," she said, as she retivutt-d to this door again. Tearing open the red marked envelope, it turned out to b« from Madge, saying that they had come back to town and asking him down to dinner that evening. Fitzgerald folded up the telegram, then rising from hia scat, walked moodily up und down the room with his hands in his poel:et.s. "So h« is there.' 1 said die young man aloud, "and I shall have to meet, him and shake bauds with him. knowing all the timo vhat lie is. If it were not for Madge I'd eave this cursed place at once, but after tho vay she stood ny me in my trouble 1 should jo a coward if 1 did so." It was us Madge had predicted—her father VMS unable to stay long in one place, and lad come back to Melbourne a week after .Irian had arrived. The pleasant party at the station was broken up, and, like the graves of a household, the guests were scattered far vnd wide. 1'iit.erson had left for Kew i'ea- ami en route for ilia wonders of tho Hot .akes, aud the old colonist was about to start for England in order to refresh his boyish memories. Mr and Mrs. iiolle.st.oii bud coma jack to Melbourne, where the wretched Felix , f na compelled once, more to plunge into politics, and Or. Chiuston hud resumed his usual routine of fees and patients. On receiving Madge's telegram, [Brian determined to go down iu the evening, but not to dinner, so tie sent a reply to Madge to that ell'ect. He did not want to meet Mark Frettlby. but -lid not, of course, tell this to M.adge, so she luul her dinner by herself,,as her father hail gone in to his club, nud tho lime of his return was uncertain. After din tier she wrapped a light cloak round her and went out 0:1 t.o tho veranda to wait. Cor her lover. The garden looked charming iu moonlight, with the black, dense cypress trees standing up against the sky and tho great fountain splashing cool und silvery. There was a heavily foliaged iftik just by tho gate, and she strolled down tlm path aud stood under it in the shadow, listening to tho whisper and rustle of its multitudinous leaves, it is curious the unearthly glamour which moonlight seems to throw over everything, and though Madge knew overy flower, tree and s^rub hi the garden, yet they all looked weird and fantastical in the cold, white light. She went up to the fountain, and seating herself on the edge, amused herself by dipping her hand into the chilly water and letting it fall, like eilver rain back into the basin. While thus engaged sho heard tuo iron gate open and shut with i clash, and springing to her feet saw a s entla mail coming up the path ia u light coat «at soft wideawake hat. "Oh, it's you at last, Brian/" she cried, aa she ran down the path to meet Um. "Whi did you not come before?" "Not being Brian, 1 can't say," answerec her father's voica JVladgu burst out laughing. "What an absurd mistake," she cried "Why, i thought you were Brian." "Indeed I" "Yes; in that bat aud coat I couldn't the difference in the moonlight." "Ob," said ber lather, with a laugh, push ing his hat back, "moonlight u necessary complete t.be spell, i suppose*" "Of course," answered his daughter. "I there was no moonlight, alas for lovers!" (To be Continued.) if:;r Torpid Uvermae Dr. "WHKRK DU) YOU GKT THIS WATOH?" are engaged in making the above clocks and the Seth Thomas watches. They are an industrious, painstaking people, one of whom remarked as he came ont of the thejiter after our unrivaled aggregation Had just Closed. "That is a of a show!' This sho\va that the people of Thotnaston arc not only keenly (Hs- criminating in a literary and dramatic \vay, but have a terse and virile command of language which indicates the eager and untiring student of profanity. 1 bought a new watch just before going to Tliomaston, and so 1 was i?iter- ested in tht' works of the watch generally. I nought my watch in Wow Vork. but left it to be engraved. 1 had an inscription put on it stating that it was from admirers of mine who desired thereby to express their generous appreciation of what t had done for my race. IN. I'. —It is a .stop watch.) I buy all my testimonials now. Thej- are cheaper, because 1 Know where to get them at 40 off anil avoid having cake anil ice cream trodden of men into lie carpet. I am getting together my in wi-dding pri'sents this winter, ami •on worth! in; surprised to see how low ! mi getting thorn. Testimonials really •omi. 1 higher than anything else unless •on buy tnom yourspli'. I once received a lovely gold he-uled iie 1 from a man who loved me as a irotnor I am now ungagod iu paying i ]omt note for nun. and there is verdi- ;ris or. Vhe cant 1 . We should learn from this to say, "No. hank you; 1 have one.'' when people ap- jroacli ns with gifts, (-lifts should be xcfwugod only wtweon old frit-mis, say l> to 170 years of age, or members of >m?'s family When I got my watch from the dealer did not know bow to set it. 1 Ivul sever sat a watch of that kind before. It was a Waltham watch with a Crescent street muveon it; nickel.with fifteen ruby jewels m gold settings; ball bearings, compensation balance to side couple, ad- •justi'd to temperature. Isochrouism and ition. patent regulator, mud valve, with platinum dewfiu-ker for the wiling whang to rest on, Bregnet hair mediated hairspring, line glass enamel and double sunk dial, with open Dr. Talmago face and dimpled hands. It was a good watch, with a snap to it that will wake up a lecture ainliene-e like riio shrill cry of lire iu a hotel where toxy old gentlemen do not register. But I could not set it. and 1 hated to wait till the planets got around to the time it indicated when I got it. .My former watch—the one 1 owned before I received this testimonial—was set by throwing it out of gear and then prying the hands into position by means of a Dose coupler. So 1 took tho new watch to a large jeweler on Broadway, tie immersed his eye in a long rubber thing and looked a long time at the price mark, which was still on the watch. Then tie looked up at me with this keen, searching rubber thing and through his clinched teeth he hissed.' 'Where did you get this watch?" Some men would have had presence of mind iitiil told him it was none of his oue thing or another business, but 1 did not. VVIjeu Providence was making presence ul mind my name was not called out. So I said I got it of Mr. So- and-so. 'Well, you will have to get another iu a ftnv weeks. Here's the watch yon ought to have if you don't want to look like a jay." Then i took my poor little timepiece trom his hand and stole out to another place, a larger pl;-.ce, and hung around there timidly till I noticed the diamond detective pointing ine out to the sapphire detective. I now decided to ask the owner about my wauh. tie looked quickly af a printed list of valuable watches that nave oeeii recently stolen in New York city and then he compared the numbers with uiiiie. • W here iiiil you get this watch?" he said coldly, shaking it as it' to make it go. Instead of saying that 1 received it from friends as a testimonial, I forgot and toUl him where I got it, for 1 feared tie thought 1 had got it dishonestly. ; 'SVell. you had hotter take it back :uere. and get them to give you a few ;«-.-:;ims m how to run a watch. This is mi Kindergarten here, especially for uwnm of that class of watch. Here's Jin* watch you want if you don't want to depend on the 12 o'clock whistle t-vt-ry duy." Just as he was reading toe inscription t snatched my watch away from him auij went out. M will go up (o M "He knows im .1 buy all my jewelry thorn Me will not insult me. "Mr. tiffany," I snitl, its t'went in u'fid handed niin my wet'.'tiiiibVella while ;i unbuttoned hiy t'oftt and got ont tuy watch, "do yon tiiiticl looking at a watch that 1 did not tmy pf ,'ycm? I will be honest with you. Mt wiia one that 1 ^bought with the money that tuy wife earned touching school this winter, and I have had un inscription put oh It stilting Unit it is from admiring-friends, but us it matter of fact t have no admiring friends. Most of them tire onto me. "Will you, IIM a friend, do me tho honor to look into my poor little timepiece aud tell nip what to do to it?" He took tip his little screwdriver as a society lady picks up an oyster fork when s!u> has a so,Hv,aire on her little finger that she wants to exhibit to the throng, then he adjusted the do-good to his eyo, which gave him 'a choked look on oue aide, and said, ns he filled his lap full of cogwheels; "Why, there's nothing the matter with this watch. When you want to sot it you just pull the stem out an eighth of an inch and turn the hands, that's all, Twenty minutes to 10 now; there you are (4-ood watch; splendid watch. No charges. Not at all; you're quite welcome. Come again after your season is over and buy out our diamond counter." Everybody who goes to Mr. Tiffany gets good treatment, He is above hopping on a watch that he did not sell. It is so with great men in every line. Beth says—meaning Mr. Thomart, of course—that in winding a watch one should hold it in one hand and wind it with the other. This will strike home to thousands of careless people who have been for years holding .the watch in the teeth and winding it by means of the toes. "If the watch mns too fast, turn the regulator toward S, which means slow: if too slow, turn toward F, which meant) fast." It is better, however, if you do not know how to read, to'take it to the watchmaker, who will move the regulator at Jj'i per move. Never drive fence posts or kill insects with the watch. It injures it. Never expose the works while in a state of intoxication. Have a regular time for winding the watch and do not go over that time. Do not wind the watch during the sermon at church if it be a Wateiimry watch. for you might lose the uub of the sermon. Seth says you should have your watch cleaned once a year. I am sorry if his watches require cleaning once a year. It is not a good plan, he says, to put the watch under the pillow. Possibly it should U? put out of the window on a clothesline. "If worn in the vest." Suth sayK, "you can hang up the garment at night." So also yon can hang up the watch too. I have dune that. Should your watch stop, do not shake it violently or pry the wheels with a car starter, lint take it to a watchmaker. who will look iuto it and tell you to leave it with him a year or two. The watch has in the past centuries grown from the clepsydra, or water clock, up to its present perfection. Look at your watch and see what a luxury you have. A good watch contains at least 150 pieces outside of the chain. Home ol' the small screws look like steel tilings. ->, "CL"_ - ,~* ^'l..\''';. -<:';*: • ; v jllliir iiiH^§liife|> ^ijjr ^€^%t WALKING THK FUOOII. and yet they are complete in thread, head and slit. The slit on the head is two one-thousandths of an inch in length. It takes 308,000 of these screws to weigh a pound. A pound of them is worth $1,500. I state this so that those who may wish to order a few pounds of these screws for household purposes will know what they are worth. The hairspring is twenty-seven ton- thousandths inches thick, and the process of tempering these delicate little- things is only known by a few very eminent people. A ton of gold is worth $003,799.31. A ton of steel made up into hairsprings is worth $7,507.000, so yon see that a man who will invent a restorative that will grow hairsprings — hut let ns pass on. It is estimated that a- balance wheel makes about li)o.8">0,000 revolutions per year, uut that is neither here nor there. The pivot on which the balance wheel works is twice the size of a human hair — so 1 am told. The bearings are delicate jewels, made of ruby or sapphire. aud are worth P4.800 per pound. Some time ago I went to a big jnusic box establishment on Broadway. New York, to get some music box oil, because the Swiss gentleman who made my instrument— the only one 1 play— said that it should have, once a year, a drop of music box oil on each bearing. The music box store on Broadway was very sorry, but I did not buy my music box there— 1 bought it in Chicago— eo it would be eternally thrown into bankruptcy before it would sell toe any music box oil. It is sad to be sat down on that way by H wusij? box i»o««e. It. toak . we two days to ge| h&flfbty wain, friend said tbat ail 1 wanted was watch tie phial of w6teb bU-^tto ehafge. Bat say, fellow dtiaetis, did you ever put a little watch oil oil your handkevchief by mistake and then go to church And get, put nut? Watch oil cornea from the jaw 1 of the porpoise. It ia prepared by n special process, and mem who are donf do the work so that they cannot hear il: think. You do not need much of it. A <juaft will lubricate OH.SOO, 00!) journals. Think of that, and then romsmber how much fat it will take to lubricate the journals of Now York city alone next fail. But 1 have drifted into statistics and incidentally into politics. Some sad stories indeed might be told of the ravages of the grip in New York if wo could know them all and toll them to the world. One evening 1 had rooms— it was really a room — one of those portable rooms which is attached to tx suite and used then as a cloakroom, but let separately sometimes to jayish travelers and furnished with a flexible trundle bed- but 1 refer to it as rooms because 1 do not care very .much how 1 live if 1 can make tho public believe that 1 loll in tho lap of luxury till it causes adverse criticism. 1 could hear the conversation in tho next room. In fact, 1 could not avoid it. I cannot wear cotton in my ears till the time, as ..high as cotton is now, and so 1 was obliged to hear the pathetic words that came to me over the transom and through the walls. There was a little, dry, hard cough and •A sigh of pain after it; then a woman's broken voice; "Her cough is tighter tonight, Charlie. It is dryer and her temperature ia greater, dear. Oh, what shall wo do? What shall we do?— poor darling!" Somehow 1 thought of my own home and wondered if the little folks there were well tonight, so many cold, weary miles away in the old north state. Then the man's voice said in deep, rich tones: "1 think it iathe crisis with her, dear.' 1 Then the little cough once more and a patient little moan that died away in a sigh. "If she can get through tho night we may hope for an improvement tomorrow, Clara. See, she is going to sleep now." Then there was a long hush, but afterward came the couyh— that cough that hurts a parent's heart worse than it could the child, it seems. Then a little whimper of pain and then tho voice of the almost sobbing woman: "What would we do without, her, Charlie? What would we do without her? She is all we have. I could not go home s;gain without her and leave her here. What would we do.. Charlie? What would we do?" I began to feel uncomfortable. 1 could not bear to hear this sort of tulle. 1 cannot stand such things. 1 smoked a large brrme'd'o pipeful of the ablest tobacco 1 could get hold of and walked thu floor. it was terribl-.!. 1 could not v;;a;i. 1 could not. wi'ito. Whoa the dry, quick cough, and the sigh, and tho woman's aol> camo 1 got so i started and turned pale, and if it had not been too late tit night I would have loft tho room altogether. "Yon must give her tho medicine now. It i.s 11 o'clock, and ;-:he had it before at 10. Be brave, dear heart, Have courage. Others have passed througli even deeper sorrow, Clara." camo the deep, earnest, comforting voice of the husband. "Life and death are not in our hands. Wo c:in only do our best and be ready for the worst." 1 could not endure this. 1 am of too sympathetic a nature. 1 rang' the bell, intending to order my room changed, but got ashamed of myself before the boy came and told him to have me called at 7:30 in the morning, and he went av,-ay with a bright new shilling which I had once owned. ".She is awake now, Charlie, mid she knows me. See! Yes, indeed she does. She recognizes our voices, Charlie. But she is weaker; oh, so much weaker! She can hardly turn over or lift her head any more. Oh, my poor, poor darling 1 What can 1 do for you? What can 1 do?" Then I could hear her mingled sobs aud kisses. The husband paced the floor. 1 could not bear this any more. 1 arose and dressed. It was no sorrow that I could relieve. 1 might as well go away from it. 1 folded and put away the rich nightrobe in my bag and dressed myself automatically. Then I went down stairs with my luggage, the little hollow cough still ringing in my ears. 1 said at the office that i would pay my bill and go. 1 could not bear the grief even of those whose faces 1 had never seen; It- might be "foolish-, but ; I could not help it. "Do not go. Mr. Nye," the night clerk said. "We will give you 80. on the parlor tloor. It is a much better room, with steam heat in it. Here, Front! Show Mr. Nye to 5J3 and tell 89 that they will have to leave in the morning. You are the third mun they have driven out with their wild grief and their croupy dog!" If we only knew more sometimes we would grieve less. $», u Fault. Bjoneij a very

Get full access with a Free Trial

Start Free Trial

What members have found on this page