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•
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L t) l- • -1111'
SAMUEL WEIGHT, Editor and Proprietor.
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Utretrg.
After the Ball
They tat and combed their beautiful hair,
Their long, bright tressee, one by one,
.A.a they laughed and talked in the chamber there,
After die revel was done
Idly they talked of waltz and quadrille,
Idly they laughed like other girls,
Who over the Ere, when all is still,
Comb out their braids and curls
gobe of sa in at d Bru-eels lace,
Knots of flowers and ribbons, too,
Scattered about in every place.
For the revel is through
And Maud and Madge in robes of white,
The prettiest night gowns under the sun;
Sto:icingless,slipperless, sit in the, night,
For the revel is done,—
Si t and comb their beautiful hair.
Those wonderful waves of brown and gold,
Till the fire is out in the chamber there.
And the little bare feet are cold
Thin out of the gatheratg winter chill,
All out of bitter St. Agnes weather,
While the fire is out and the hour is still,
Maud and Madge together,—
Maud and Madge in robes of white,
The prettiest nicht gowns under the sun,
Curtained away from the chilly night,
After the revel is done,—
Float along in a splendid dream,
To a golden gittera's tinkling tune,
While a thourand lustre* shimmering strewn,
In a palace's grand saloon.
Flashing of jewels, and flutter of laces,
Tropical odors sweeter then musk,
Men and women with beautiful faces
And eyes of tropical dusk,—
And one (ace shining out like a star,
One face hunting the dreams of each,
And ene voice sweeter than others are,
Breaking into silvery speech,—
Telling, through lips of bearded bloom,
Au old, old story over again,
As down the royal bannerol room,
To the golden gittern's strain,
Two and two they dreamily walk,
While an unseen spirit walks beside,
And, all unheard in the lover's talk,
Be cluimeth one for a bride.
Oh. Maud and Madge, dream on together,
With never a pang of jealous fear:
For, ere the butt. r St. Agues weather,
Shall whiten another year,
Robed for the bridal, and robed for the tomb,
Braided brown hair, and golden tress,
Irhereil be only one of you left for the bloom
Of the bearded Host° arena—.
Only one for the bridal pearls,
The robe of satin and Brussels lace,—
Only one to blush through her curls
At the sight of her lover's face
Oh, heatniful Madge. in your bridal white,
Fur you the revel has just begun;
But for her who sleeps in your anus to-night
The revel of Life is done!
ilut robed and crowned with year sainily
Queened' heaven and bride of the sun,
.oh, beautiful Maud, you'll never miss
The kisses another bath wont
grtectiono.
"Lost, Stolen or Strayed."
TROM THE NOTE BOOK OF A MEDICAL STUDENT
The following strange event was related
to me when a student in —Hospital, by
a household servant of the name of Ann
Fairly. She came into the Hospital to be
cured of a disease to which her class are pe
culiarly liable—a white swelling of the
knee. She was at that time about forty
years of age. In her youth this person's
first place was in the capacity of house
maid to a nobleman's family, the head of
whom I shall call the Marquis of Cornber.
r,y, a personage of some celebrity, connec
tted--and not remotely—with royalty.: Per
;baps it will be best if I tell the story in her
own words, exactly as I put it down at the
,time she related it.
"My lady had an intimate friend, Lady
7Mosshill—a countess she was, and a very
t fair, beautiful woman to look at, pleasant
. spoken, too, and not in the least haughty.—
Ir;te lady was often on a visit to Lady Corn
tbervy,
.and Wm visits mostly lasted a very
l long time; for the Earl, her husband, was
„employed a great deal in Parliament, and
phasing no children Lady Mosshill felt dull.
rSo she used to tell Theresa, my lady's sec
ond maid, who attended Lady llossbill
when she visited at .any lord's, to save her
ladyship from bringing her own maid.
"After.l.bpd lived at my lord's for about
twelve months the housekeeper sent for us
of the servant's ball, one morning, to come
together to her room. We wondered a
good deal What could be the matter, but
gvaloally sea ,fonnd onrselves all collected
in the housekeeper's ,room. Mrs. Merry's
speech was a sharp one, very much to the
purpose, and not at All satisfactory—at
,least to the feelings of some of as.
"'lt is very unpleasant business! have
,to speak about.' said she; 'but it worries me
a good deal more than, I dare say, it will
any of you. To speak plainly, and with
.ontany preamble, my lady Nisbet some of
her diamonds, and of course suspicion falls
on• the servants.'
"There was a general exclamation. At
last some one requested to know if suspi
cion had fallen on any particular individ
ual.
SI 50
"Not Mrs. Merry answered.—
Miss Dormer and Mlle. Theresa, my lady's
own attendants bad desired their drawers
and boxes, even their pockets might be
•searched; and it had been done without any
result affecting the characters of these twe
young persons.
"Everybody was vociferous in denying
the guilt imputed.
"As for myself, i was excessively indig
nant, for I kept my lady's room clean,
though only under housemaid; and knowing
that I would have died sooner than have ta
ken the diamonds, I was very vindictive.—
I got severely rebuked by the housekeeper.
'"Noone is accused,' she said, in reply to
my angry defence 'but some one has taken
them; they could'nt go without hands, that
is certain. They are very valuable, and
my lady will feel anoyed at their disappear
ance.'
"We all went to the drawing-room to my
lady, and demanded that our boxes and our
persons might be searched. She acceeded
to the request.
"'No one need feel agrieved,' she ob
served, at this proceeding; innocent per
sons, of course, will remain blameless, and
the guilty only will be detected.'
"The search was made, but fruitlessly.—
As Mrs. Merry observed, the house was
well nigh turned out of windows; yet neith
er my lady's diamonds nor the thief who
took them were discovered.
"A detective officer was brought into the
house, but even his sagacity failed to dis
cover the truth; and so, fon,a time, the mat
ter dropped; not, however, without leaving
a soreness rankling in every dependant of
that noble household.
"I believe now, that I had what is usu
ally called tco much spirit for my station in
life—perhaps I ought rather to say, too
much temper. I was no more individually
suspected than any of my fellow servants;
but I had a sturdy honestness of soul, and
it galled me terribly to think my honesty
should be suspected. (I frequently de
clared that I should never rest till the real
thief was discovered; and, to say the truth,
my restless and suspicious vigilance ren
dered me as good a detective as if I had
been trained to the business.
"My father, who was a shoemaker in
the village where my lord's principal coun
try residence was situated, was a very vio
lent rural pc.liticion, and a fierce upholder
of what he called the 'Peoples Rights.' I
used to hear him harangue his neighbors,
hour after hour, on evenings when his
work was done, and they met in the kitchen
—which served our family for a 'parlor,
kitchen and hall'—over a pipe and a tank
ard; for, with all his violence of a party
spirit, my father was no pot-house frequen
ter. lie was like many Englishmen of his
class, whom I have since observed, a fierce
decrier o( the vices of out aristocracy—their
pride, arrogance and extravagance—and
yet, withal in his heart of hearts, a secret
admirer or a lord. It mast have been ow
ing to the latter feeling, that when my lady
expressed a gracious intention of taking me
into her household, my father did not offer
the violent opposition which might have
been expected from one of his radical opin
ions. Some resistance on his part certainly
occurred; but the shallowest observor might
have seen it was assumed more for the sake
of consistency than for any dislike to my
living with 'real nobility.'
"However, I had imbibed enough of his
prejudices to set myself up as a talker
against my superiors—a proceeding for
which I was often scolded, and not unfre
quentiy threatened with dismissal. On the
occasion of my lady's loss my irritable and
ehufed spirit vented its bitterness against
the whole noble order to which my
_lord's
family belonged.. It is a wonder to me now
that I was not at once sent away for imper
tinence and sauciness, but Mrs. Merry, the
housekeeper was somewhat inclined that
way herself, so I suppose sbe had a fellow
feeling.
I took a particular spite against Lady
Mosshill on the first occasion my lady had
us all into 'the drawing-room, and Lady
Mosshill was present. She wore, the whole
time of my lady's lecture and exhortation
to confess the truth, a cold, sneering smile,
that might have better sat on the features
of a fiend than of a living woman.
"I was the more irritable, because, having
to keit, clean my lady's suite of rooms and
those appropriated to Lady Mosshill, which
were ner Lady—'s, I felt I waamore pe
culiarly liable to be suspected than the ser
vants who were more remotely employed.
"However, time wore on; Lady Mosshill
returned home, and the diamonds were al
most forgotten. and rarely talked about.—
My hot impatience of blame, real or impu
ted, began to calm down. I gave satisfao
tion in my work, for I was determined al
ways to do every duty well, and I wished
to stay in my present service long enough
to obtain a first-rate character.
"Things were thus coming round, when
my Lady Hornbill came again to pay my
lady a milk of some length. Mademoiselle
Theresa announced it some days before her
Ladyship's argicsr.i.
""Dat mauvaise•sujet, mi ledi blosshll, is
coming. Anne,' said the French girl in her
broken English. She hated my 14dy Moe
"NO ENTERTAINMENT /9 SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING."
COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING. JULY 30, 1859
shall, as all lady's maids hate those on
whom—not being their real mistresses—they
are forced to attend. 'lt must be dat you
get her rooms ready, als—bah! but I hate
her so moosh—she is vat
.you call the beast
in the sty—cochon—ah—cochcn—coehon!'
and Theresa stamped her little kid-shod foot,
and ground her white teeth.
"'She give to me an old robe vat I vould
not pick up from de street,' she said, as she
ran up stairs; and, to say truth, I was far
from being ill-pleased at Theresa's spite,
for I liked, as I before said, Lady Itlosshill
very little better than did my lady's French
femme de chambre.
"In a day or two Lady Mosshill arrived,
and my lady and she were as intimate as
ever. They were, indeed, the dearest of
friends, and any one, to see them walking
in the grounds together, their arms around
each other's waists, their hands clasped,
would have taken them for two of the veriest
boarding-school misses, brimful of senti
ment and romance. It was in conversation
always 'my love,' and 'my dearest,' and
they could scarcely be a moment apart. We
could hardly help laughing in the servants'
hall, when we talked of the sentimental
friends Sip which existed between these la
dies, neither of them much less than forty—
one of them, my lady, the mother of grown
up daughters.
"Lady Mosshill had been Lady Corn
berry's visitor about three weeks, when, one
morning, my lady's bell rang as if the hou e
was on fire. Miss Dormer, who was chat
ting to me on the grand staircase, which it
was part of my duty to hearthstone every
morning, ran up stairs for her very life;
and some of the men-servants came running
from the different offices on the stairs.—
Everybody believed something serious had
occurred.
"Presently, Miss Dormer came down
stairs, as white as ashes; she went into the
housekeeper's room. I must tell the truth
—we all followed to the door of Mrs. Mer
ry's apartment, in hopes of hearing some
thing; and something we did hear, for Miss
Dormer had left the door on jar, and was
speaking in loud excited tones.
"'Where can they be? Who takes the
things?' said Mrs. Merry, in a vexed tone.
"'That, heaven only knows,' said Dor
mer, half crying; 'but one thing I knew, in
nocent people, Mrs. Merry, are not to have
their characters taken away every moment
in this way; and I shall give my lady warn
ing, that's what I shall do. Some devil's
in this house,' said the lady's maid, stamp
ing her foot violently, for she was by no
means remarkable for mildness.
"'Go, Mrs. Merry, pray, go,' she contin
ued, 'to my lady; there's her bell again.'
"The portly housekeeper bustled up stairs
to my lady's room, scolding, as she came
out, because we were idling there, she said,
listening to what was no business of ours.
"'lt was our business,' James, second
footman, said, 'if anything was wrong again
with my lady's diamonds; fro had been sus
pected once, and might be suspected again.'
"Mrs. Merry angrily bade us go about
our work; but we did not rest till we ques
tioned Dormer, and learned that my lady
had lost more jewels.
"And again there was a fine commotion—
searching, detective officers; and again, as
before, suspicion fell on no one, and the lost
jewels seemed as far off as ever.
"Many of their servants left their places.
Such constant attacks of suspicion were too
much; but they gained nothing by that,
only the remark that perhaps they dreaded
discovery. As for me, though I spoke my
mind freely enough, I stayed. I had been
preferred by my lady, because I had been
brought up in a model school of hers, where
I bad carried off the prizes for household
work from all competitors. I had not been
in my lord's service two years, when the
upper housemaid dying, I was promoted to
her situation—a rare thing—for upper ser
vants in a great house, must perfectly know
their business. I bad worked hard to learn
mine thoroughly; and, moreover, knew all
the ways of the house, which a stranger
might be slow in acquiring. So my pert
ness was reprimanded, and my services re•
.
tamed.
"And the commotion died away again,
and six weeks passed away in peace. and
quietness. Lady Mosahill, on leaving Lady
Cornberry'e house, went to Paris for the
winter.
"We saw nothing of her ladyship who
had been loud in her remarks about the
missing jewels, till the ensuing spring, when
she arrived on another visit, intended to be
a lengthened one.
"She remained about a month; and, at
length, to the great joy of the servants, who
hated her, gave notice that she would depart
next day. On this one, she kept her own
room all the morning; superintended the
packing by Madlle. Therese; and finally,
with her own bands, packed a small valise
with a few necessaries, for she was to spend
a day on her way home with some peer,
whose name I forget now. All this The.
rese told us, when she came to take up hot
water for Lady Mosshill's toilette.
"'I wish she would Leave her room,' said
I, not in a very good humor, 'all my work
is thrown back by these ladies keeping their
I rooms so late.'
" 'Never° you mind, Anne,' said Therese;
'my ledi, she vill dress herself directly. She
is going to my Lae :Virden's for dinner,
and you shall go to her room den.'
"I grumbled a good deal; but I had to
wait Lady fleaspre, for all that;
it was six o'clock that evening before got
into the room to clean it.
"Therese was gone down to tea; I looked
round; Lady Mosshill's things were all
cleared away, and packed ready for depar
ture. The valise stood on a chair close to
the toilette; and I noticed that though the
key was in the padlock, yet it was not
locked. I stood, broom in hand; and strange
thou:ag, for which I could never account
came over me. To this day I can hardly
tell what prompted me so powerfully that I
could not resist the temptation. I placed
my hand on the top--Lady Mosshill's night
robe came first; then a small basket; and
further down, a case of Morocco. How my
heart heat as I took it in my hand; how
stealthily I looked round the room, as if I
were about to become a thief instead of to
detect one.
"I opened that case, which I had found
in Lady Mosshill's valise; and there, on a
bed of snowy quilted satin, reposed two of
my own lady's most valued jewels—a brooch
of diamonds, and a bracelet of emeralds and
diamonds mixed. I had seen them on Lady
Cornberry's toilette but the day previously;
and Miss Dormer herself had pointed them
out to me as unmatched for beauty and
value. They had been presented to my
lady by her own father, the Marquis of—
"If a doubt fur a moment disturbed my
mind it was soon dispelled; I knew those
jewels again too well to be deceived; I did
not doubt long. Now, after the lapse of
years, perhaps the wish that I had acted
otherwise comes across me now and then;
but at that time I was young, somewhat
vindictive, and fiercely sensitive about the
honesty of the poor. I threw down my
broom, and replacing the jewel case where
I had found it, I went out of the room,
locked the door, and flew down the great
staircase, regardless of the servants who
were passing to and fro. The family were
all assembled in the drawing-room for the
half hour previous to dinner; not knowing
or heeding if visitors were present, I open•
ed the door and walked boldly in. It is
more than possible that such a breach of
duty would have been punished with instant
dismissal, had it not been for my pale face,
wild looks and excited manner. There were
present my lord and lady, my lady's two
brothers, and two or three strange visitors.
"My lady rose up from her chair,
"'What does this mean, Anne?' she said.
"I was too eager to exonerate myself and
my fellow-servants at that minute, to have
much regard for the noble presence I had
intruded on, not being indeed at any time
overawed by contact with great folks, from
whom I had seen a good many little actions;
therefore I said—
"'Please, my lady, will you listen to
what I have to say?'
"'Good Heaven!' said her ladyship, hold
ing her scent-bottle to her nose, and turning
to my lord, who stood on the hearth, 'is she
deranged, do you think?'
"'No, my lady,' said I, 'I am not mad, if
you mean that; but you accused us, my
lady, in the servants' hall, of stealing your
diamonds. I said then, my lady, as I say
now, it isn't always poor folks who steel.—
If you, my lady, or my lord, or any lady or
gentleman, will please come with me to
Lady Mosshill's room, I'll show you, my
lady, who's the real thief, and the true cause
of your servants, my lady, being wronged.'
"When I said diamonds, my lady jumped
up quite alert, though she had been fainting
a few minutes before, in the fear that I was
a lunatic.
"'My diamonds?' said she. 'Load on,
girl; I'll follow you!'
"I wanted no more. Turning round, I
ran up stairs, followed by my lord, my lady,
my lady's brothers, and even one or two of
the visitors. Curiosity is as great in fine
people as in poor servants. We never stop
ped till we got to Lady Mosshill's apart
ments. I unlocked the bedroom door,
brought my lady to the valise, took the case
out (acknowledging I had broke into it,)
opened it and asked my lady if these were
her jewels. She was silent for a moment
from amazement, and I believe horror, for
though lady Cornberry never scrupled to
believe ill of a poor servant, she was dread
fully shocked to find a countess could be a
thief. When every one had become quite
convinced, that Lady Mosshill was the cul
prit, I was dismissed, and my lord and my
lady, with their guests. decended to the draw
ingroora. Dinner had been waiting some
time, and after some talk, they all went to
the dining-room, with the exception of my
lord, Lord John, my lady's eldest brother;
those gentlemen retired into the library, and
had a tray taken there to them.
'The fruit of their resolves was soon
known; James was summond, and he came
down to tell us that one of the grooms was
to takes horse and ride directly to Milber
ry Castle—the place to which Lady Moss
hill had gone on a visit. This groom we
found, was bearer of a letter to Lady Moss
hill; and the English lady's maid informed
us that my lady told her the letter was
from my lord, forbidding the noble culprit
to return to his house. Certain, it is, she
never came back; and my lord himself sear
ched Lady Mosehill's trunks, before her
things were seat to Milberry after her.
Then we heard my lord at the same time
had written as account of the whole affair to
Lord kfotwhill, who did not write a reply,
but same himself to my lord; and there was
a terrible scene.
oLord Moss/till refused, at first, to believe
Lis wife's guilt; and I was sent fordo the
library, where my lord and he were to hear
my testimony. I had rejoiced in my deed
till that moment, 'when I raw that stroug
man, the noble gentleman, the great states
man, the loving husband,—for even Lord
Mosshill's enemies gave him that credit--
bowed with that great grief; my heart relen
ted, and I burst into a fit of violent tears.
"Lord Cornberry desired I would tell
Lord Mosshill all I knew. For some min
utes I could not speak for my sobs; but
Lord Mossbill came to me, and, poor servant
girl though I was, and the cause of great
sorrow to him, and abjured me solemnly, as
I cared for peace here or hereafter, to tell
the truth. I felt as if I were on my trial
for life or death. Somehow, all my acorn
for rank deserted me, and I told the whole
from first to last, concealing nothing, not
even my curiosity and wrong behavior in
looking into Lady Mosshill's valise. When
I had concluded, my Lord swore Inc to the
truth of my statement on the Holy Bible.
And I was dismissed, sorrowful and repen
tant enough. Ido not mean that I should
have concealed the truth out of regard to
Lady Mosshill's rank and station, but I cer
tainly was overstepping and only gtatifjing
my revenge, to expose the lady to strangers
by the violent manner in which I stated the
truth.
"What happened afterwards Mdlle. The
rese and Miss Dormer told me. Lord Moss
hill when, indeed convinced of the truth, im
plored my lord to hush the matter up. His
family was one of the oldest in England,
and I have always heard one of the proudest.
The blow of such a discovery went nigh to
break Lord Mosshill's heart. He, however,
firmly did his duty. He broke open the
drawers, jewel cases, one private repositor
ies of his Countess, and found all Lady Corn
berry's missing jewels. They were returned,
vrittian epistle to my lady herself, that Miss
Dormer said would have touched the heart
of a tigress to show mercy. But for her bo
som-friend my lady had none; she said mat
ters had gone too far to be concealed—that
my lord, in his first wrath, had sent for his
solicitor, and revealed all! At the same
time Lord Mosshill received my lord's let
ter, he received one also from the lawyer,
demanding restitution of the stolen jewels.
"Whoever set the matter afloat, this is
certain; the day after the discovery, the
whole affair was in the newspapers; and it
cost Lord Mosshill large sums to suppress
all further appearance of the matter in the
journals of the day, But by that time the
matter was quite notorious enough in high
circles: and Lord Mosshill received an inti
mation from the very highest quarter that
his lady had better travel. That is the po
lite mode of banishment now-a-days, I be
lieve; and to travel, Lord and Lady Moss
bill were forced.
"I lived long enough in my lady's service
to know the end of this strange story; and
when the end came, considering the share I
had taken in it, I was, I assure you, by no
means a happier woman for the knowledge.
About five years after her banishment from
the British Court, Lady Mosshill returned.
My lady and her daughters one night were
proceeding in their carriage to a splendii
fete at.—Palace. Some stoppage occured
in Piccadilly, and my lady, to beguile the
time was looking about her. Suddenly her
eyes fell on a lady, who' sitting on a balco
ny, half concealed by flowering plants, was
watching sadly the gay cavalcade of splen
did equipages. The eyes of the ladies met.
My lady uttered a slight shriek, and sank
back in her carriage; the lady in the bal
cony fainted dead away, She was taken
thence to her bed, from wh'eh she never
more rose
"Shame—remorse—humiliation—death its
elf punished the crime of Lady Mosshilt; a
crime aggravated by her attempt to cast it
on poor servants. For her, pity, I think,
would be useless and foolish; though as I
have said, my share in her detection gave
me trouble enough—especially when I hoard
of her death. But for the disgrace inflicted
on those who never before knew shame—for
the injuries inflicted on innoccent sufferers
—I can only say she scarce deserves for
giveness; but I find it hard still (especially
now years have made me a sadder, wiser
woman) to forgive myself!" -
Change for a Hundred
Sr Arawrr FONBLANQUS.
It was market day in a great noisy man
facturing town not many thousand miles re
moved from Lancashire, and the confines of
that neighboring county so celebrated for
the "euteness" of its inhabiti.nts. The
railway had brought in thousands of people
that morning, from all parts of the adjacent
country, most for business, some for plea
sure, some for a convenient mixture of both
Men came in to make money, and made it
or not according to circumstances; their
wives and daughters came in to spend mo
ney, and found no difficulty in accomplish
ing their object; other people came in for
other purposes (as will appear before the
conclusion of this faithful narrative,) and
were equally successful in car. ying them
out.
In the Exchange, merchants and cotton
spinners. and brokers and agents thronged
together,• and were as busy as bees in a
hive. What were they doing! Ah! that I
cannot say, Hundreds of thousands of
pounds, I am told, change owners on market
day in this same Exchange, without a scrap
of writing, or earnest to bind the bargain.
Who can tell what great transactions were
being clenched? Perhaps some one, was
$/,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; $2,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE.
buying up all the cotton in Liverpool; per
haps the money was being found for some
invention that will provide broadcloth at
sixpence a yard; perhaps that vulgar look
ing old fellow, to whom all are touching
their bats, on account of his reputed wealth,
is buying what he knows very well be
will never be able to pay for; and who
knows but that those sanctified individuals
in white neck cloths are contracting for a
supply of thread bearing a lie upon its la
bel, in order to cheat the poor seamstress of
her duel Such things are done, we know,
thanks to that much villified tribunal—Her
Majesty's High Court of Chancery.
But we have little to do with the Exchange
and those who frequent it. This great town
—which is to be nameless, for certain suf
ficient reasons—goes to dinner at 2 o'clock,
eats a great deal of cola meat, and drinks
a great deal of hot wine; and being a town
of inferior organization, gastronomically
speaking, is not afflicted with those fright.
ful consequences from which any other
town of more fashionable and dyspeptic
habits would suffer. Consequently, for
about one hour after the time I have named,
there is a lull in the transaction of business
and whilst the bees are on their return to
their work, much shopping takes place.
The principal jewelers in this nameless
town are Messrs. Elephant & Castle, and a
goodly sight their shop windows afford upon
market day, especially when the old year is
at its gasp, ann all the "pretty-pretties" for
new year gifts are exhibited in glittering
rows therein. So thinks an elderly gentle
man from the country, a clergyman of the
Church of England evidently, from his spot
less white neckcloth, snug chin, and the
heavy gold seals that hung, snore saajorstm,
after the fashion of our ancestors, from his
fob. There is a well-to-do creaking in his
carefully polished boots, and a smile upon
his ruddy cheeks that bodes well, he is al
together the sort of person at whose table
you would like to have a place, and in whose
will you would have no objection to find
your name.
Mr. Elephant (Castle, his partner, is at
home) has a high respect for the cloth, so
he hews profoundly to the clergyman as he
enters, and his reverence, who is urbanity
itself, bows to Mr. Elephant in return.—
The jeweller is charmed. Politeness is not
a stable commodity in this nameless town.
Great is its wealth; but the magic "tup
pence a week," which in some other quar
ters is devoted to the acquisition of manners
has been but sparingly expended by the
parents of the present generation of its
denizens. Mr. Elephat knows a gentleman
when he sees one; and sending his young
man to wait upon some other customer, at
tends to the stranger himself.
The simple-minded pastor at once states
his errand. Thursday is New Year's Day,
and Mrs. Dalcimer must have her accus
tomed present. What shall it be? Some
thing useful, you know, and not very ex
pensive, not more than thirty or perhaps
forty pounds.
It is pleasing, to hear the good man speak
of money! It is clear that he prizes it only
as the means of giving pleasure to others.
Many valuable trinkets are exhibited for
selection; but are rejected with a corres
ponding number of smiles by Mr. Dalcimer
as "trifles." At last a very solid gold watch
with chain and pendants, heavy and plain,
fit for the wife of a bishop, is produced and
approved. Fifty pounds is the price, and
whilst Mr. Elephant's young man is find
ing a case wherein to pack it, the Rev.
Blank Dalcimer takes from his pocket a fat
black pocket-book, and from its interior a
bank note for one hundred pounds. lie
was just such a man as you would expect
to have such a pocket-book, and such a
picket-book would not have been complete
without such a large crisp bank note in it.
There are some people whose very tooth
picks proclaims their respectability.
The Rev. Blank Dalcimer was very sorry
he must trouble Mr. Elephant for change—
Mr. Elephant would be only too happy to
oblige him. Mr. Elephant could easily
oblige him upon market-day. The respect
able pocket book, With pounds in small
notes in it, is placed in one ample pocket,
the new watch, in shining morocco case, is
carefully deposited in another, and the rev
erend purchaser is leaving the shop politely
as be entered it, when a young man dressed
in the extreme of fashion—so far in the ex
treme as to be in danger of tumbling over
the other side into the abyss of vulgarism,
bustles rudely in, and runs against his rev
erence.
The good man is not angry, only hurt;
stooping to pick hie hat which had been dis
placed in the shock, he furtively rubs his
damaged chin, and upon recovering himself
recognizes the youth who caused the mis
chief.
"Why, bless my heart, l'raulr, what
brings you here?"
"Oh I've come to buy something for So.
phy, sir; but I hope I have not hurt you?"
"No, not much; but you should not be so
impetuous. Are you returning by the four.
fifteen train?"
"Yee, sir, I think so?" replied the youth.
"Then we may as well travel together.
I want to speak to you about the shooting
over the glebe lands, so buy your baubles,
my dear boy—buy your baubles—at once."
The dear boy lost no time, he selected a
diamond and opal necklet. brooch, and
bracelet to match; value fifty pounds, net
eash--,Sophy was a lucky girl—offered a
[WHOLE NUMBER 1,610.
hundred pound note in payment and de
manded change—not u his reverend ac
quaintance had done as a matter of favor;
but as his right.
"There! change that, he said, and flung
his note on the counter."
Now it seemed to good Mr. Elephant,
that there could be no possibility of danger
in changing a note even for so unusual an
amount, when presented by a gentleman cf
Mr. Dalcimer's appearance and manner—
Mr. Daleimert—why he might be an Arck•
bishop. But this young Rapid with his
hands thrust in his pockets of his peg-top
trowsers, with his ballet•dancer pin, and his
birds•eye scarf, chewing a toothpick, with
his hat cocked, was a different sort of cus
tomer. Ere could not be a bad character
himself—oh no! did not the divine call him
"Frank," and would he frank any but re
spectable people? But young men will be
young men, and sometimes keep very bad
company. lie might have been imposed
upon himself. So, the exohange being near
at hand, Mr. Elephant dispatched young
Rapid's note to the master of that place to
be scrutinized, pretending, all the time, that
he was sending it out to be changed. The
messenger returned and whispered to his
employer that the report was that the note
was a perfectly good ono, and he rather
ashamed of himself for having kept his
worthy customer waiting whilst he indulged
in such unworthy suspicions—hastily changed
the defaced note, and having handed the
difference ant Sophy's "baubles" to Rapid.
was bowing his customers out, when—oh
that this pen should have to record itt—a
policeman, breathless with haste and ex
citement, dashed into the shop and seized
the reverend gentleman and his lively young
friend by their collars, and I am sorry to
add that the respectability of the former
dropped from him like a cloak and he stood
trembling, the very picture of a detected
swindler.
"W—w—w—what's the meaning of this?"
gasped poor M. Elephant.
'Why, that you have two of the most no
orious forgers in England in your shop—
that's all," replied the man in blue; procee
ding to handcuff his prisoners.
"Have you changed any notes for them?"
"Y--y—yea t—two of a hundred apiece."
"They are forgeries then, the cleverest.—
Here, give them to me." Mr. Elephant
obeyed mechanically. "I shall have to pro - -
duce them at the police office to make the
charge—Hil cab," and the constable, having
secured the derbies on his captives, thrust
them into the cab, and having told the still
confused jeweller to come along as quick AS .
he could "to swear agin them"—drove off—
where?
Echo makes the usual response. For
never from that moment has Mr. Elephaht
set his gaze upon either of hie customers;
the pretended policeman who took them into
custody; the cabman who drove them away;
the watch; the jewelry; the change, or the
perfectly good Bank of England notes fir
one hundred pounds a•piece, with which
their ingenious fraud was commited.
BLONDIN NOWHERE—OUTDONE DT AN ED
ITOR!—The local of the Cleveland Democrat
takes off the account of Mons. Blondin's
"rope walk" over Niagara, in the following
rich style. Those who have read the par
ticulars in the papers will appreciate in
On the morning of the Fourth, the local
editor of a prominent evening daily paper
in Buffalo, accomplished a feat which places
Mons. Blondin's tight rope act at Niagara
quite in the shade. Re crossed Main street,
the principal street in Buffalo, on a cross
walk without stepping off. When it is
known that the aforsaid local had been em
ployed in seeing the old Fourth of July out
and the new Fourth of July in, some idea
may be formed of the, magnitude of the
undertaking. The cross-walk chosen for
this daring feat leads from Thomas' Saloon
to the Terrapin Lunch. The side walks
on each side of Main street were crowded
with spectators, by far the greater number
being on the side on which the Terrapin is
located, they being sustained and soothed
by an unfaltering trust in his ability to
perform it, and his willingness to treat
when he got over. Numerous Star-Spang
led Banners were flying in the air, and
numerous bands were playing the air of
the Star Spangled Banner, while a Cali
thumpian band were putting on airs gener
orally. About 8 o'clock the local emerged,
from Thomas' Saloon, and was greeted with
immense ipplause by the crowd on the other
side, who were impatient to bare him ems
across and treat. It was really a treat to
come across such enthusiastic fellows.
Before attempting to cross, he performed
numerous wonderful feats, such as telling
the time of slay, walking a crack in the
side-walk, seeing a hole through a ladder.
&a. The cross-walk was about thirty feet
in length—and, in order to make it steady.
he had about thirty glasses of buck beer as
guys, thus aftording one guy to esah foot.
without mentioning the "gays" on the op
posite side-walk, who were standing by is
expectation of a drink. Like many other
performers be was dreised in tights—
baring been tight for two weeks before, in
preparation forhis feat.
Only once did he betray the slightest ir
resolution, and that was when his eagle eye
took in the immense concourse on the other
side waiting for him to treat. Scorning a
balance pole, he steadied himself • moment
againet a lamp post, and then. amid die
breathless attention of the spectators, bum