Butler citizen. (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, February 02, 1894, Image 1

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    VOL XXXI
-3»ATRIP*-
TO
-# PATTERSON'S #-
WITH THIS
iCotapor^l
Will entitle you to a discount of 15 per
cent on all
Overcoats, Heafy Snits and Underwear,
For sixty days from this date, Jan. 22.
PATTERSON'S ,4UMl " st
BUTLER, PA.
THE ONLY SPRICTLY ONK PRICE CLOTHING HOUSE
IN BUTLER COUNTY.
J. S. YOUNG. VVM. COOPER.
VOUNG & COOPER,
I MERCHANT TAILORS I
Have opened at S. E. corner of Main and Diamond Streets, Butler,
with all the latest styles in Spring Suitings. . Eit and
Workmanship Guaranted. Prices as low as
the lowest. TRY US.
Read THis Or\ee.
LOOK CAREFULLY AT THE PRIC ES AND YOU WILL, I
THINK, BE CONVINf ED THAT
IX VI OIS
Is the place you will buy your footwear.
Ladies fine button shoes, patent tip, opera toe $ 85
" " " squ.ui. toe y
" grain " 75
" fine slippers .* 4S
" warm, flannel-lined, shoes 75
" •• " slippers
" slippers 20
" good, heavy, peged shoes . 75
" " standard shi>cs 8^
" rubbers 25
Misses' fine shoes, button 7°
Men's good heavy boots 1 40
«' B& A, calf, congs. and bals tip 90
" extra fine shoes $1 25 and i 50
Boys' good heavy boots, sizes 1-5 1 oc
Youths' " " u-13 75
Men's " brogans 70
" " calf boots 19°
Rubber boots and shoes, wool lined arctics, felt boots for boys and
men, wool stockings at ihe I.west prices.
Men's slippers, nicely embroidered, at 50c, 75c, and $1; Women'?,
Misses" and Children's slippers at 20c, 50c, 75c ana sl.
Are you one *f the few that does not buy of us, 'f so we uri looking
for you, roitif in scon and see its
b. ION.
OPPOSITE HOTEL LOWRY.
No. 102 Jf *rth €iia StrjV. - Butler P*.
WILL YOU BE ONE
TO READ THIS AD.
AND ACT PROMPTLY.
EVERY ITEM IS A LEADER.
MetiV felt lioiifK an J i>ver« f 1.85 B> >y V b>»>r> «iz < 1 t• • 5 95<-
Men's pond li.ckel •relit..- 95 1 Men'* ov«.ri tor l«lt ».«rs $1 15 «n.l $1 25.
lien's good solid biM><» # 1.50. I Men's working 95.
M.fu'n fia«< dre»* shoes l»ee < r <oitjire*s 4 s i 25
THE NEW SHOE STORE LEADING THEM ALL.
Ladies' kid button sh<>en tip or pUi-t 95. j L»iii«"'K'wd oil grain button $1 00.
Ladies'grain baium shoes heelor *p'i v 95 | Lame*'kip Isce-hoe- 95
Misse»' kid button shoes spring tieei 95: | Ladies' fine rubbers 25.
ALL RUBBER GOODS REDUCED
AT
THE NEW SHOE STORE.
215 S. Main Street, ft D MTT T up
Opposite Arlington Hotel, V. L. iuILJLiM.
Sweeping Reductions have been Made on all
Winter Clothing, Overcoats, Underwear, Cap, etc.
Our business has been very successfu' since our opening nine
months ago, leaving us a lot of odds and es.ds, which are ALL
NEW and which we are willing to sell at a sacrific rather than
carry them over.
Be sure and see us before you buy if y rj want to save money.
Wishing you all a Happy New Year.
We are Yours Respectfully,
DOUTIIKTT <fe GRAHAM.
Cor. Mani & Cunningham Sts.
BUTLER, PA.
Job Work ol uii kinds done
at the "Citizen Oliice."
t-r- /
BUTLER CITIZEN.
oAiiU 1 )
U.
ruTalClA> AXD hL'R UKO>,
o -'i a A sU*t. iluuef, Fa.
Dr. N. M. HOOVEK,
'»• rtajliO OV., OlllOe UOUTS, IVI'IU M. a.".
«<(i b.
3A iW U Ll. M. oIPPUS.
r'tiyaiciau and surgeon.
*»j »eat Liniuiinltoiii at.
L.
iM> »LjxuKuf*,
: Sf w TrouUnau boutiiuir. butler, ra.
XU. . ia<AALt iU. i/. U. f». AiN A, t>. i#
Opevi<uuca. Optcawuco.
U«**OIW> A J ALIA OIU- IJIJE, »W#T *LD
iiuo^u
una. x-£-A*vrL, 6l aa* iivin,
buuur, Fa.
a. a. jjenusu
rrnuer, jrtmii'a.
j r , OIC u t ctvJAU r mt.i| a Ayocuuij. UiUv-c'—
Ova oc~uu< 9 ttUkUiuk OUJIC.
v. iv.e-iii-rii.vc-,
JLienual,
is uo* lotjieu ill UCW ajiU elen*ul ruouu .*■
vu»uiK Ivi Uier uuc *' AII.KUMS vi UIAO,
plates ana wodereii worK.
"Gas Administered."
Drt. S>. A. jUtiNbTON.
jtNTISI, - - bUTLtK, fr-A.
Gola t-iuiufc FHU.it-!..- titti.cHOD ot leeti
~u AriLii.mi leen. »Hli»ui i 1a.1t;.-> <. aptciuii.
iirvUa uxitie til \ itiMizea Air or
.■■esluellea U.MM .
uiiiot u.ei Millers urocerj east oi Lowr>
.iI.UM.'.
UuiCC caweu Jtida tdj3 aud
IKA ftuCJUNKIN.
, curue> ai iiAW, Oitt'-r a. .No. l«, t.nst Jen*- -
uu 31.. Kuun, fA,
W. C. FINDi-t-Y,
Attorne) at 1--* ain. l>eai Jbsiute AgtUl. ■
ace leaf ol i- AUU-liell'b utlice OL uorti. Bit.
>i jjiaiuuiiu, liulier,
H. H. GOUC.HEK.
..u-urucj-iit-in*. umce on secunu Limj:
ii.utrr»ou Dulldlun. near Court boost, nine
J. W HUTCHISON,
AITUKM!.* A'A LAW.
tB C( ou second noor Jt the clock,
i.viuona, Butler, Fa., boom No. 1.
S. H. PIER SOL.
ATTOKNKK AT LAW.
Office at No. 104 West Diamond St.
A. T. BLACK.
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
uom F., Armory Building. Butler, Fa
COULTER & BAKER.
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
office LA room B /in or> T u'.loiLg, Built-)
H. Q. WALKER,
Attorney-at-Law— Office In Diamond Bloct
uller, Pa.
J. M. PAINTER,
Atlorney-at-Law.
office— BETWEEN Foetoffice and Diamond, «U
- r.Pa.
A. T. SCOTT,
ATTOHNKi-AT-LAW.
>rtloe at No. 8. South Diamond, Butler. Fa.
A. M. CHRISTLEY,
ATIOHNBY AT LAW.
dice second floor. Anderson BL K. Main St.
ar Court House. Butler. PA
NEWTON BLACK.
t'y at Law—Office on South side ol Dlamoo
tier. Pa.
C. F. L. WcQUISTION,
ENULVEEK AND BDRVEYOR,
OFFICE NBAB DIAMOND BUTLER. P*.
Overcoats
+ AND ALL +
Heavy
Clothing
AT
COST
AT
THE RACKET STORE,
120 South Main Street, Butler, Pa.,
FOR 45 CENTS.
Your choice of
any oil clotli window
shade in the house
Former prices 50
to 90c each. This
offer oood only until
Feb. 10.
Call at
DOUGLASS',
N- »r P. O. - - 241 S. J/aiu St*
ax A; OOMTAJT BOIW
FAXI X.
Being a reprint from. I'.; reminitcenctt ef JOBS
A WATSON, ii D. iate of (he Army iledical
Department
CHAPTER L
MR SHERLOCK HOLMES.
. *. v- N the year IS7S I
«. J V took my degree
of doctor of
""Jr medicine of the
<S j lp university of
% j London, and
It., 1 proceeded to
xj r : -'nyyw. Net ley to go
jHpSr through the
JB course pre
\ \y ; ji\ scribed for sur-
A (/•L-Bifl * gcons in the
f \1 J •<- army. Having
.sr- completed my
~ studies there I
was duly attached to the Fifth North
umberland fusiliers as assistant sur
geon. The regiment was stationed in
India at the time, and before I could
Join it the second Afghan war had
broken out. On landing at Bombay I
learned that my corps had advanced
through the passes and was already
deep in the enemy's country. I fol
lowed. however, with many other offi
cers who were in the same situation as
myself, and succeeded in reaching
Candahar in safety, where I found my
regiment, and at once entered upon my
new duties.
The campaign brought honors and
promotion to many, but for me it had
nothing but misfortune and disaster.
I was removed from my brigade and
attached to the Berkshires, with whom
I served at the fatal battle of Maiwand.
There I was struck on the shoulder by
a .lezail bullet, which shattered the
bone and grazed the subclavian artery.
I should have fallen into the hands of
the murderous Ghazis had it not been
for the devotion and courage shown
by Murray, my orderly, who threw me
across a pack-horse and succeeded In
bringing me safely to the British lines.
Worn with pain, and weak from the
prolonged hardships which I had un
dergone, I was removed, with a g'-eat
train of wounded sufferers, to the base
hospital at Peshawur. Here 1 rallied,
and had already improved so far as to
be able to walk about the wards, and
even to bask a little upon the veranda,
•when 1 was struck down by enteric
fever, that curse of our Indian posses
sions. For months my life was de-
FOR MONTHS MV LIFE WAS DE
SPAIRED OF.
spalrcd of, and when at last I came to
myself and became convalescent I
was so weak and emaciated that a
medical board determined that not a
day should be lost in sending me back
to England. I was dispatched, accor
dingly, in the troop-ship Orontes, and
lauded a month later on Portsmouth
jetty, with my health irretrievably
ruined, but with permission from a pa
ternal government to spend the next
nine months in attempting to im
prove it.
1 had neither kith nor kin in Eng
land. and was therefore as free as air
—or as free as an income of eleven
shillings and sixpence a day will per
mit a man to be. Under such circum
stances I naturally gravitated to Lon
don. that great cesspool into which
all the loungers and idlers of the em
pire are irresistibly drained. There
1 stayed for some time at a private
hotel'in the Strand, leading a com
fortless, meaningless existence, and
spending such money as I had con
siderably more freely than I ought.
So alarming did the state of my finances
become that I soon realized that I must
either leave the metropolis and rusti
cate somewhere in the country, or that
I must make a complete alteration in
my style of living Choosing the lat
ter alternative. I began by making up
my mind to leave the hotel, and tc
take up my quarters in some less pre
tentious and less expensive domicile.
On the very day that I had come to
this conclusion, I was standing at the
Criterion bar. when some one tapped
me on tbe shoulder, and turning
round 1 recognized young Stamford,
wfco had been a dresser under mi at
Bart's. The sight of a friendly faco j
in the great wilderness of London is a !
pleasant thing indeed to a lonely man. j
In old days Stamford had never been
a particular crony of mine, but now 1 j
hailed him with enthusiasm, and he,
in turn, appeared to be delighted to see '■
me. In the exuberance of my joy I
asked him to lunch with me at tl#
Hoi born, and we started off together in j
a hansom.
"Whatever have you been doing j
with yourself. Watson?" he asked, in j
undisguised wonder, as we rattled
through the crowded London streats.
"You are as thin as a lath and as brown
as a nut."
1 gave him a short sketch of my ad
ventures, and had hardly concluded it
by the time that we reached our des- j
tination.
"Poor devil!" he said, commiserating- j
ly, after he had listened to my misfor
tunes. "What are you up to now?"
"Looking for lodgings," I answered. j
"Trying to solve the problem as to
whether it is possible to get comforta- i
ble rooms at a reasonable price."
"That's a strange thing," remarked 1
my companion; "you are the second
man to-day that has used that expres
sion to ine."
"And who was the first?" I asked.
"A fellow who is working at tha
chemical laboratory up at the hospital.
He was bemoaning himself this morn
ing because he could not get some one
to go halves with him in some nice j
rooms which he had found, and which j
were too much for his purse."
"lly Jove!" I cried; "if he really wants
some one to share the rooms and the j
expense, 1 am the very man for him. j
I should prefer having a partner to be- :
ing alone."
Young Stanford looked rather i
strangely at me over his wineglass.
"You don't know Sherlock liolmea
yet," he said; "perhaps you would not
care for him as a constant companion."
"Why, what is there against him?"
"Qh, I didn't say there was any
thing against him. lie is a little queer
in his ideas—an enthusiast in souio .
brauclicb trfaaaacc. Aniwaj, taw, j
BFTLER. PA..FRIDAY. FEBRUARYS. 181)4.
ne is a decent fellow enough."
"A medical student, I suppose?" said
"Xo—l have no idea what he intends
to go in for. I believe he is well up in
anatomy, and he is a tirst-elass
chemist; but, as far as I know, he has
never taken out any systematic medi
cal classes, His studies are very
desultory and eccentric, but he has
amassed a lot of out-of-the-way
knowledge which would astonish his
professors."
"Did you never ask him what he was
going in for?" I asked.
"No: he is not a man that it is easy
to draw out, though he can be com
municative enough when the fancy
seizes him."
"I should like to meet him," I said.
"If I am to lodge with anyone, I
should prefer a man «ith studious and
quiet habits. I am not strong enough
yet to stand much noise or excitement.
I had enough of both in Afghanistan
to last me for the remainder of my
natural existence. How could I meet
this friend of yours?"
"He is sure to be at the laboratory,
ne either avoids the place for weeks,
or else he works there from morning
to night. If you like, wo shall drive
round together after luncheon."
"Certainly." I answered, and the
conversation drifted away into other
channels.
As we made our way to the hospital
after leaving the Holborn. Stamford
gave me a few more particulars about
the gentleman whom I proposed to
take as a fellow lodger.
"You mustn't blame me if you don't
get on with him," he said; "I know
nothing more of him than I have
learned from meeting him occasional
ly in the laboratory. You proposed
this arrangement, so you must not hold
me responsible."
"If we don't get on it will be easy to
part company," I answered. "It seems
to me, Stamford," I added, looking
hard at my companion, "that you have
some reason for washing your hands
of the matter. Is this fellow's temper
so formidable, or what is it? Don't be
mealy-mouthed about it."
"It is not easy to express the inex
pressible," he answered, with a laujjh.
"Holmes is a little too scientific for my
tastes —it approaches to cold-blooded
ness. I could imagine his giving a
friend a little pinch of the latest vege
table alkaloid not out of malevolence,
yon understand, but simply out of a
spirit of inquiry in order to have an
accurate idea of the effects. To do
him justice, I think that he would take
it himself with the same readiness. He
appears to have a passion for definite
and exact knowledge."
"Very right, too."
"Yes;*but it may be pushed to ex
cess. When it comes to beating the
subjects in the dissecting-rooms with
a stick it is certainly taking rather a
bizarre shape."
"Beating the subjects!"
"Yes, to verify how far bruises may
be produced after death. I saw him at
it with my own eyes."
"And yet you say he is not a medical
student?"
"No. Heaven knows what the ob
jects of his studies are! But here we
are, and you must form your own im
pressions about him." As he spoke we
turned down a narrow lane and passed
through a small side door which
opened into a wing of the great hos
pital. It was familiar ground to me
and I needed no guiding as we as
cended the bleak stone staircase and
made our way down the long corridor
with its vista of whitewashed wall and
dun-colored doors. Near the farther
end a low, arched passage branched
away from it and led to the "hemical
laboratory.
This was a lofty chamber, lined and
littered with countless bottles. Broad,
low tables were scattered about, which
bristled with retorts, test-tubes and
little Bunsen lamps, with their blue
flickering flames. There was only one
student in the room, who was bending
jver a distant table absorbed in his
work. At the sound of our steps he
glanced round and sprang to his fee!
with a cry of pleasure. "I've found it!
I've found it!" he shouted to my com
panion, running toward us with a test
tube in his hand. "I have found a
reagent which is precipitated by
hcemoglobin. and by nothing else."
Had he discovered a gold mine, great
er delight could not have shone upon
his features.
"Dr. Watson —Mr. Sherlock Holmes,"
said Stamford, introducing us.
"How are you?" he said, cordially,
griping my hand with a strength for
which I should hardly have given him
credit. "You have been in Afghanis
tan, I perceive."
"How on earth did you know that?"
I asked, in astonishment.
"Never mind," said he. chuckling to
himself. "The question now is abort
haemoglobin. No doubt you see the
significance of this discovery of
mine?"
"It is interesting, chemically, no
doubt," I answered; "but practically
"Why, man. it is the most practical
medico-legal discovery for years.
Don't you see that it gives us an in
fallible test for blood-stains? Come
THKRE WAS OXLT OSK STUDENT IN TfTK
ROOM.
over here, now!" He seized me by the
coat-sleeve in his eagerness, and drew
me over to the table at which he had
been working. "Let us have some
fresh blood," he said, digging a long
bodkin into his Anger, and drawing off
the resulting drop of blood in a chem
ical pipette. "Now. I add this small
quantity of blood to a litre of water.
You perceive that the resulting mix
ture has the appearance of true water.
The proportion of blood cannot be
more than one in a million. I have no •
doubt, however, that we shall be able
to obtain the characteristic reaction."
As he spoke, he threw into the vessel a
few white crystals, and then added
some drop;- of a transparent fluid. Ia
an instant the contents assumed a dull
mahogany color, and a brownish dust
was precipitated to the bottom of the
_ ... _ . - i
"Ha! ha!" he cried, clapping his
hands, and looking as del ; :'lite<l as a
child with a new toy. "What do you
think of that?"
"It seems to be a very delicate test,"
I remarked.
"lleautifnl! beautiful! The old
gaaiacum lest was very clumsy and un
certain. bo is the microscopic exami
nation for blood -corpuscles. The lat
ter is valueless if the stains are a few
hours old. Now, this appears to act
as well whether the blood is old or
new. Had this test bc-en invented,
there are hundreds of men now walk
ing the earth who would long ago have
paid the penalty of their crimes.'
"Indeed!" I murmured.
"Criminal cases are continually
hinging upon that one point. A man
Is suspected of a crime months per
haps after it has been committed. His
linen or clothes are examined, and
brownish stains discovered upon them.
Are they blood-stains, or inud-stains.
or rust-stains, or fruit-stains, or what
are they? That is a question which
has puzzled many an expert, and why?
Because there was no reliable test.
Now we have the Sherlock Holmes
test, and there will no longer be any
difficulty."
His eyes fairly glittered as he spoke,
and he put his hand over his heart and
bowed as if to some applauding crowd
conjured up by his imagination.
"You are to be congratulated," 1 re
marked, considerably surprised at his
enthusiasm.
"There was the case of Von llischoff
at Frankfort last year. He would cer
tainly have been hung had this test
been in existence. Then there was
Mason, of Bradford, and the notorious
Muiler and Lefevre, of Montpelitr.
and Samson, of New Orleans. 1 could
name a score of cases in which it would
have been decisive."
"You seem to be a walking calendar
of crime." said Stamford, with a laugh.
"You might start a paper on those
lines. Call it the Police News of the
Past."
"Very interesting reading it might
be made, too," remarked Sherlock
Holmes, sticking a small piece of plas
ter over the prick on his fiuger. "1
have to be careful," he continued, turn
ing to me with a smile, "for 1 dabble
with poisons a good deal." He held
out his hand as he spoke, and I noticed
that it was all mottled over with simi
lar pieces of plaster and discolored with
strong acids.
"We came here on business," said
Stamford, sitting down on a three
legged stool and pushing another one
in my direction with his foot. "My
friend here wants to take diggings,
and as you were complaining that you
could get no one to go halves with
you, I thought that I had better bring
you together."
Sherlock Holmes seemed delighted
at the idea of sharing his rooms with
me. "I have my eye on a suite in
Baker street," he said, "which would
suit us down to the ground. You don't
mind the smell of strong tobacco, I
hope?"
"1 always smoke 'ship's' myself," I
answered.
"That's good enough. I generally
have chemicals about, and occasional
ly do experiments. Would that annoy
you?"
"By no means."
"Let me see—what are my other
'shortcomings? I get in the dumps at
times and don't open my mouth for
day 6on end. You must not think I
am sulky when Ido that. Just let me
alone and I'll soon be all right. What
have yon to confess, now? It's just as
well for two fellows to know the
worst of one another before they be
gin to live together."
I laughed at this cross-examination.
"I keep a bull-pup," I said, "and ob
ject to rows, because my nerves are
shaken, and I get up at all sorts of un
godly hours, and I am extremely lazy.
I have another set of vices when I'm
well, but those are the principal ones
at present."
"Do you include violin-playing in
your category of rows?" he asked,
anxiously.
"It depends on the player," I an
swered. "A well-played violin is a treat
for the gods; a badly played one—"
"Oh, that's all right," he cried, with
a merry laugh. "I think we may con
sider the thing as settled —that i 6, if
the rooms are agreeable to you."
"When shall we see them?"
"Call for me here at noon to-morrow,
and we'll go together and settle every
thing," he answered.
"All right—noon exactly," said I,
shaking his hand.
We left him working among his
chemicals, and we walked together to
ward my hotel.
"By the way." I asked suddenly,
stopping and turning upon Stamford,
"how the deuce did he know that I had
come from Afghanistan?"
My companion smiled an enigmatical
smile. "That's just his little pecul
iarity," he said. "A good many peo
ple have wanted to know how he tindg
things out."
"Oh! a mystery, is it?" I cried, rub
bing my hands. "This is very piquant.
I am much obliged to you for bringing
ns together. 'The proper study of
mankind is man,' you know."
"You must study him. then," Stam
ford said, as he bade me good-by.
"You'll find him a knotty prob'em,
though. I'll wager he learns more
about you than you about him. Good
by."
"Good-by," I answered, and strolled
on to my hotel, considerably inter
ested in my new acquaintance.
CHAPTER IL
THE SCntNCE OF DEDUCTION.
We met next day as he had ar
ranged, and inspected the rooms at
No. 2218 Baker street, of which he had
spoken at our meeting. They con
sisted of a couple of comfortable bed
rooms and a single large, airy sitting
room, cheerfully furnished, and il
luminated by two broad windows. So
desirable in every way were the apart
ments. and so moderate did the terms
seem when divided between us, that
the bargain was concluded upon the
spot, and we at once entered into pos
session. That very evening I moved
my things round from the hotel, and
on the following morning Sherlock
Holmes followed me with several
boxes and portmanteaus. For a day or
two we were busily employed in un
packing and laying out our property
to the best advantage. That done, we
gradually began to settle down and to
accommodate ourselves to our new sur
roundings.
Holmes was certainly not a difficult
man to live with. He was quiet in his
ways and his habits were regular. It
was rare for him to be up after ten at
night, and he had invariably break
fasted and gone out before I rose in
the morning. Sometimes he spent his
day at the chemical laborstory. some
times in the dissecting-rooms and oc
casionally in long walks, uhieh ap
peared to take him into the lowest por
tions of the city. Nothing could ex
ceed his energy when the working fit
wa> upon him. but now and -igain a re
sv:lion would seize him and for days
0:1 end he would lie upon '.he sofa in
the sittinj'-room. hardly uttering a
word or moving a muscle from morn
ing to night. On these occasions
I have noticed such a 4iva tny, vacant
expression in his eyes thrtt 1 might
have suspected him of being a ldictcd
to the use of some narcotic had not
the temperance and cleanliness of his
whole life forbidden such a notion.
As the weeks went by. my interest
in him and my curiosity a;, to '"is aims
in life gradually deepened and iu
greased. it it* vyyy and
poarance were as to stride the at
tention of the most casual ob>,-rver.
In height he was rather over six feet,
and so excessively lean that he seemed
to be considerably taller Il ! *< eyes
were sharp and piercing, save during
those int'. rvals of torpor to which I
have alluded: and his thin, hawk-like
nose gave his whole expression an air
of alertness and decision. Uis chin,
too, had tbe prominence and square
ness which mark the man of determina
tion His hands were invariably blotted
with ink and stained with chemicals.
yet he was possessed of extraordinary
delicacy of touch, as I frequently had
occasion to observe when I watched
him manipulating his fragile philo
sophical instruments.
The reader may set me down as a
hopeless busybody, when I confess
how much this man stimulated ray
curiosity and how often I endeavored
to break through the reticence which
he showed on all that concerned him
self. Before pronouncing judgment,
however, be it remembered how object
less was my life and how little there
was to engage my attention. My
health forbade me from venturing out
unless the weather was exceptionally
genial, and 1 had no friends who would
call upon me and break the monotony
of my daily existence. Under these
circumstances I eagerly hailed the lit
tle mystery which hung around my
companion, and spent much of my
time in endeavoring to unravel it.
He was not studying medicine. He
had himself, in reply to a question,
confirmed Stamford's opinion upon
that point. Neither did he appear to
have pursued any course of reading
which might fit him for a degree
in science or any other recognized
portal which would give him an en
trance into the learned world Yet
his zeal for certain studies was re-
markable. and within eccentric limits
his knowledge was so extraordinarily
ample and minute that his observa
tions have fairly astounded me Sure
ly no man would work so hard to at
tain such precise information unless
he had some definite end in view
Desultory readers are seldom remark
able for the exactness of their learn
ing. No man burdens bis mind with
small matters unless he has some very
good reason for doing so
His ignorance was as remarkable as
his knowledge. Of contemporary lit
erature. philosophy and politics he
appeared to know next to nothing
Upon my quoting Thomas Carlyle. he
inquired in the naivest way who he
might be and what he had done. My
surprise reached a climax, however,
when I found incidentally that he was
ignorant of the Copernican theory and
of the composition of the solar sys
tem. That any civilised human bei"g
in this nineteenth century should not
be aware that the earth traveled
round the sun appeared to be to me
such an extraordinary fact that I could
hardly realize it.
"You appear to be astonished," he
said, smiling at my expression of sur
prise "Now that Ido know it I
do my best to forget it."
"To forget it!"
"You see." he explained, "I consider
that a man's brain originally is like a
little empty attic, and you have to
stock it with such furniture as you
choose. A fool takes in all the lumber
of every sort that he comes aeross. so
that the knowledge which might be
useful to him gets crowded out. or at
best is jumbled up with a lot of other
things, so that he has a difficulty in
laying his hands upon it. Now the
skillful workman is very careful indeed
as to what be takes into his brain
attic. He will have nothing but the
tools which may help him in doing his
work, but of these he has a large
assortment, and all in the most perfect
order. It is a mistake to think that
that little room has elastic walls and
can distend to any extent. Depend
upon it, there comes a time when for
every addition of knowledge you for
get something that you knew before.
It is of the highest importance, there
fore, not to have useless facts elbowing
out the useful ones."
"But the solar svstem!" I protested.
"What the deuce is it to me?" he in
terrupted impatiently; "you say that
we go round the sun. If we went
round the moon it would not make a
pennyworth of difference to me or to
my work."
I was on the point of asking him
what that work might be, but same
thing in his manner showed me that
the question would be an unwelcome
one. 1 pondered over our short con
versation, however, and endeavored to
draw my deductions from it. He said
that he would acquire no knowledge
which did not bear upon his object.
Therefore all the knowledge which he
possessed was such as would be useful
to him. I enumerated in my own mind
all the various points upon which he
had shown me that he was exception
ally well informed. I even took a
pencil and jotted them down. I could
not help smiling at the document when
I had completed it. It ran in this way:
SHERI.OCK HOLMES —his Hmlta.
1. Know! of Literature.—Nil.
£ Knowledge of Philosophy.—NiL
a Knowl ds-e of Astronomy —NIL
4. Kuuwle Ijre of Politics.—Fe Die.
5. Knowledge of Botany—Variable. Well up
in belladonnii, opium and poi-tc .s generally.
Knows nothing of practical rardening.
6 Knowledge of Geology. Practical, but
limited. Tells at a glance difT rent soils from
caili other After walks has shown me splashes
upon tils trousers, and toid me by t"eir color
and consistence in what par*, of London ho bad
received t:iem.
7 Knowledge of Cb» mlstry Profound.
8. Knowledge of Anatomy.—Accurate, but un
systematic.
y. Knowledge of Sensational Literature.—
Immense. He appe vrs to know every detail of
every horror perpetrated ia the century.
10 Plays the violin well.
II Is an expert a.ngle-stlck player, boxer and
swordsman.
12 Has a good practical knowledge of British
law.
When I had got so far in my list I
threw it into the tire in despair. "If I
ca.n only find what the fellow is driv
ing at by reconciling all these accom
plishments. and discovering a calling
HE WOULD CLOSE HI9 EYEB AND SCRAPS
CARELESSLY AT THE FIDDLE.
which needs them all," I said to my
self. "I may as well give up the at
tempt at once."
I see that I have alluded above to his
powers on the violin. These were very
remarkable, but as eccentric as all
his other accomplishments That he
could play pieces, and difficult pieces,
I knew well, because at my request he
has played me some of Mendelssohn's
Lieder and other favorites. When left
to himself, however, he would seldom
produce any music or attempt any rec
ognized air Leaning back in his arm
chair of an evening he would close his
eyes and scrape carelessly at the fiddle
which was throwu across his knee.
Sometimes the chords were sonor
ous and melancholy Occasionally they
were fantastic and cheerful. Clearly
they reflected the thoughts which
possessed him. but whether the music
tlioso visiter
playing was simply the result of a
whim or fancy was more than I could
determine. I might have rebelled
against these exasperating solos had It
not been that he usually terminated
them by playing in quick succession a
whole series of my favorite airs as a
Might compensation for tho trial upon
my patience
During the first week or so in had no
callers, and I had begun to think that
my companion was as friendless a man
as I was myself. Presently, however.
I found that he had many acquaint
aneos, and those In most different
classes of society. There wu. one lit
tle. sallow, rat-faced, dark-eyed fellow
who was Introduced to me as Mr Le>
trade. and who came three or four
times in a single week. One morning
a young girl called, fashionably
dressed, and stayed for half an hour ot
more. The same afternoon brought •
gray-headed, seedy visitor, looking lika
a Jew peddler, whoeppeared to roe to b«
much excited, and who was closely fol
lowed by a slip-shod elderly woman.
On another occasion an old white
haired gentleman bad an interview
with my companion; and on another a
railway porter in his velveteen uni
form. When any of these nondescript
individuals put in an appearance. Sher
lock Holmes used to beg for the use of
the sitting-room, and I would retire to
my bedroom. He always apologized
to me for putting me to this inconven
ience "I have to use this room as %
place of business," he said, "and these
OK* MORNING A TOCJfO OrKL CALL KB j
fashionably pressed.
people are my clients." Again I had
an opportunity of asking him a point*
blank question, and again my delicacy ,
prevented me from forcing another
man to confide in me. I imagined at
the time that he had some strong rea- j
son for not alluding to it. but he soon
dispelled the idea by coming round to !
the subject of his own accord.
It was upon the 4th of March, as I •
have good reason to remember, that I j
rose somewhat earlier than usual, and
found that Sherlock Holmes had not yet
finished his breakfast. The landlady
had become so accustomed to my late
habits that my place had not been laid
nor my coffee prepared. With the un
reasonable petulance of mankind I
rang the bell and gave a curt intima
tion that I was ready Then I picked
up a magazine from the table and at
tempted to while away the time with
it, while my companion munched si
lently at his toast. One of the articles
had a pencil mark at the heading,
and I naturally began to run my eye
through it.
Its somewhat ambitious title was
"The Hook of Life." and it attempted
to show how much an observant man
might learn by an accurate and syv
tematic examination of all that came
in his way. It struck me as being a re
markable mixture of shrewdness and
absurdity. The reasoning was close
and intense, but the deductions ap
peared to be far-fetched and exagger
ated. The writer claimed by a mo
mentary expression, a twitch of a
muscle or a glance of an eye, to fathom
a man's inmost thoughts. Deceit, ac
cording to him. was an impossibility
in the case of one trained to observa
tion and analysis. His conclusions
were as infallible as so many propo
sitions of Euclid. So startling would
his results appear to the uninitiated
that, until they learned the processes
by which he had arrived at them, they
might well consider him a necromancer.
"From a drop of water," said the
writer, "a logician could infer the pos
sibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara
without having seen or heard of one or
the other. So all life is a great chain,
the nature of which Is known whenever
we are shown a single link of it. Like
all other arts, the science of deduction
and analysis is one which can only be
I acquired by long and patient study,
nor is life long enough to allow any
mortal to attain tho highest possible
perfection in it. Before turning to
those moral and mental aspects of the
matter which present the greatest dif
ficulties. let the inquirer begin by mas
tering more elementary problems. Let
him, on meeting a fellow-mortal, learn
at a glance to distinguish the history
of the man. and the trade or profession
to which he belongs. Puerile as such
an exercise may seem. It sharpens the
faculties of observation and teaches
one where to look and what to look
for. By a man's finger-nails, by his
coat-sleeve, by his boot, by his trouser
knees, by the callosities of his fore
finger and thumb, by his expression,
by his shirt-cuffs—by each of these
things a man's calling Is plainly re
vealed. That all united should fail to
enlighten the competent inquirer in
any case is almost inconceivable."
I "What ineffable twaddle!" I cried,
' slapping the magazine down on the
table; "I never read such rubbish in
Imy life."
"What is It?" asked Sherlock Holmea
"What is It?" asked Bherloc* uoim«. - sherlock Holmes ,.. he said,
"A\ hy, this article. I said, poi g stepping into the room and handing
at it with my egg spoon « , P £i e * d the letter .
to my breakfast. laee Here was an opportunity of taking
read It, since you have marked It I conceH out of hlm . H e little
don't deny that it is smartly writ, M of this when he made thai
ten. It irritate? me though. It is » ««*»„,. ■ u lad»
evidently the theory ofsome armchalj "what your 'trado may
lounger tvho evolves all these neat lit- ~ J
tie paradox ta jta hc
all his fellow travelers. 1 would lay a nt , hir , Royal Marine lighl
thousand to one against him. infantry? sir. No answer? Right,
"You would lose your money.' Sher- inianiry,
lock Holmes remarked, calmljr "As 6 cHcked his heels together, raised
for the article. I wrote it myself. h{g hwjd . n # and was gonCt
"You!"
"Yes. I have » 'isirn both for observa- [TO BS CONTIKCED.)
tlon and for dea'wsijon. The theories
which I have expressed there, and He ffu Not to U i»me.
. . . He—You must think lama blamed
which appeax to you t* toe so chimerv
cal, are really extremely practical—so • (kind i vl _x o , i don't think any
practical that 1 depend upot *hem foi ever blamed you.— Detroit Frea
my bread and choese."
"And how?" I asked, involmrtawly.
"Well. I have » trade of my own. ) Th® Farmer'. Itevcnc*.
suppose lam the only one in the world. -Don't Blow the Gas Out" was the SWa.
>. »*• j i 74 vnii <*in Quoth Farmer Jones. Ail rlgnw
I'm a consuitiiig detective. J? jou can tucked himself In bed
understand what that is. ilerfc in ix>n- tourn ntgbt
don we have lots of government detee- -Life.
tives and lots of private ones. When U toeonra«tac.
these fellows are at fault they COLM tc O*rtiv— Ah, Miss Dewnose! we
me. aud I manage to put them on t c ' nnnelrinr r~- at our Cvo o'clock
right scent. They lay all the evidence | were speakingo» jo
before me. and lam generally able, y Miwi jx-wnose—Oh. dear!—and I've
the help of my knowledge of the his- ■ be respecta ble!— Puck.
Tory of crime, to set them straight. 80 -
There is a strong family resemblance Experience
about misdeeds, and if you have all the . ISo you invested in a silver mine out
details of a thousand at yo*r finger- west> e h? What did you realize from
ends, it is odd if you caD't unravel the Jt? ..
thousand and first. Lcstra'le >s a well-; "Justhow big a fool I can be.
known detective. He got himself into ipmth.
a fog recently over » and co D .i<ier.t«o o .
"They are mostly sent out by private engaged to your cousin Jim.
inquiry' agencies. They are all
Trivia * UYUWJ INN RNIITN-I . ******
"Why, this article," I said, pointing
at it with iny egg spoon as 1 sat down
to my breakfast. "I see that you havy
read it, since you have marked it. I
don't deny that it is smartly writ
ten. It irritate? me though. It is
evidently the theory of some arm-chair
lounger tvho evolves all these neat lit
tle paradoxes in the seclusion of his
own study. It is not practical. I
should like to see him clapped down in
a third-class carriage on the Under
ground, and asked to give the trades of
all his fellow travelers. 1 would lay a
thousand to one against him.
"You would lose your money." Sher
lock Holmes remarked, "As
for the article. I wrote it myself.
"You!"
"Yes. I have » 'utsrn both for observa
tion and for dcd'wstjon. The theories
which I have expressed there, and
ISO 5
And want a little enlightening. 1
listen to their story, they listen to mj
cornin-cts. and then I pocket ray fee."
"But do you mean to say," I said,
"that without lea ring- your room yoq
can unravel some knot which other
men can make nothing of. although
they have seen every detail for them
selves?"
"Quite so. I have a kind of intnl
tion that way. Now and again a cast
turn* up which is a little more com
plex. Then I hare to bristle about and
see thin its with my own eyes. Too
sea, 1 have a lot of special knowledge
which I apply to the problem, and
which facilitates matters wonderfully.
Those rules of deduction laid down is
th-.t article which aroused your scorn
are invaluable to me in practical work.
Observation with me is second nature.
You appeared to be surprised when I
told yon, on our first meeting, that yon
had come from Afghanistan."
"You were told, no doubt."
"Nothing of the sort. I knew yon
came from Afghanistan. From long
habit the train of thought ran so swift*
ly through my mind that I arrived at
the conclusion without being conscious
of intermediate steps. There were
auch steps, however. The train «f
reasoning ran: 'Here is a gentleman
of a medical type, but with the air of a
military man. Clearly an army doc
tor, then. He has just come from the
tropics, for his face is dark, and that
is not the natural tint of hU skin, for
his wrists are fair. He has undergone
hardship and sickness, as his haggard
face says clearly. His left arm has
been injured. He holds it in a stiff
and unnatural manner. Where in the
tropics could an English army doctor
have seen much hardship and got his
arm wounded? Clearly in Afghanis
tan.' The whole train of thought did
not occupy a second. I then remarked
that you came from Afghanistan, and
you were astonished."
"It is simple enough as you explain
it," I said, smiling. "You remind me
of Edgar Allan Poe's 'Dupin.' I had
no idea that such individuals did exist
outside of stories."
Sherlock Holmes rose and lit hla
pipe. "No doubt you think that you
are complimenting me in comparing
me to Dupin," he observed. "Now, in
my opinion, Dupin was a very inferior
fellow. That trick of his of breaking
in on his friends' thoughts with an
apropos remark after a quarter of an
hour's silence is really very showy and
■uperficlal. He had some analytical
genius, no doubt; but he was by no
means such a phenomenon as Poe ap
peared to imagine."
"Have you read Uaboriau's works?"
I asked. "Does Lecoq come up to your
idea of a detective?"
Sherlock llolmes sniffed sardonically.
"Lecoq was a miserable bungler," he
■aid, in an angry voice; "he had only
one thing to recommend him, and that
was his energy. That book made me
positively ill. The question was how
to identify an unknown prisoner. I
could have done it in twenty-four
hour*. Lecoq took six months or so.
It might be made a text-book for de
tectives to teach them what to avoid."
I felt rather indignant at having two
characters whom I had admired treat
ed in this cavalier style. I walked over
rn am A LABQI BLCK ENVELOP* IW nil
HAHD. '
to the window, and stood looking out
into the busy street. "This fellow
may be very clever," 1 said to myself,
•'but he is certainly very conceited."
"There are no crimes and no crim
inals in these days," ho said, querul
ously. "What is the use of having
brains in our profession? I know well
that I have it in me to make my name
famous. No man lives or has ever
lived who has brought the same
amount of study and of natural talent
to the detection of crime which I have
done. And what is the result? There
is no crime to detect, or, at most, some
bungling villainy with a motive so
transparent that even a Scotland Yard
official can see through it."
I was still annoyed at his bumptious
style of conversation. I thought it
best to change the topic.
•'I wonder what that fellow is look
ing for?" I asked, pointing to a atal
wart, plainly-dressed individual who
was walking slowly down the othet
•ide of the street, looking anxiously at
the numbers. He had a large blue en
velope in his hand, and was evidently
the bearer of a message.
"You mean the retired sergeant of
marines," said Sherlock Holmes.
"Brag and bounce!" thought I to my
self. "He knows that I cannot verify
his guess."
The thought had hardly passed
through my mind when the man
whom we were watching caught sight
of the number on our door, and ran
rapidly across the roadway. We
heard a loud knock, a deep voice be
low, and heavy steps ascending the
stair.