THE TIMES, NEW BLG0MF1ELD, PA., FE1UIUA11Y 27, 1877.'
i
FREDERICK DEAN'S WILL.
II 7 ELL, slnoo you are both so ur
YV Rent, and slnoe making a will
won't end my life, I'll do It at once, and
you Khali witness."
And the speaker, a wlilte-hnlrod old
gentleman, laughed pleasantly, and
drew toward him an old book lying on
the table at bis sUR Selecting one of
' the two or three blank leaves at the
back, be took up a pen, and dipped it
into the Ink.
"I confess I was not prepared forsuoh
promptitude," smiled one the gentle
men in reply ; " but we shall be only
too happy to serve you," adding a little
dryly; " Don't yon think, however, It
would be Just as well to get a sheet of
paper V"
" Not a bit of It," returned Mr Dean,
u this leaf is as good as a sheet," and he
proceeded to pen, In liold characters.
" The last will and testament of Fred
erick Dean." 4
"As you like," said the other ex
changing an amused smile with his
companion. "Only Insure Nannette a
comfortable future, and remember that
to insure it you must cut out that leaf,
and place it where It can be found by
the proper person when needed."
A pre-occupied nod answered the
counsel, and for a little while nothing
was heard but the hurried scratch of the
pen. At last the writer threw in down,
and leaning back in his chair, rend the
document aloud.
"Does that suit your"' he asked
turning to his visitors as he fln
Ished. An eager nfllrmative answered
hiiu.
u Then remember," he said, with sud
den earnest gravity, " to see justice
done if my Nannette should meet with
trouble. And now we will sign."
The signing was done, the book closed
and pushed aside till the farewells,
which had been deferred quite long
enough were spoken, and within an
hour, the two visitors were an board a
steamer bound for Europe.
For a few minutes after their depar
ture, Mr. Dean sat lost in thought, then,
arousing himself, he took up the morn
ing paper, and turned to the financial
column. He had just finished it, and
was carefully cutting out the article
when the door opened, and a young girl
entered, her fresh face bright with
smiles.
"Ah, my dear, Just in time," said
Mr. Dean, fondly. "Oet the niuci
lage." " Oh, papa 1 that everlasting, musty
financial I" laughed the girl, with a
mock horror. " Why, don't you let me
cut you out a love story, or a bit of poet
ry, and paste In here ? Who but you
would ever have thought of a scrap-book
of financlals?"
"You need not laugh, my dear,"
smiled the old gentleman," those ' finan
cial' have had something to do with
your future."
"With my future?" exclaimed his
adopted daughter, raising her eyes from
the book she had Just drawn towards
her, and opening them very widely on
the old gentleman.
" Yes, my dear, they have helped me
to make a fortune, and that fortune will
some day be yours. I have made you my
sole heir have willed you my whole
property. Remember that, Nannie,and
if need be, fight for your rights. My
brother is no friend to you, as you well
know."
Nannette sprang to her feet, and
threw herself on the gentleman's
bosom.
"Now, papa," she murmured, chok
ingly, " don't say will' to me again. I
want you and nothlngelse."
In a few minutes she returned to her
task, but it was with the feeling that the
shadow of death had settled over the
house. All that day, and all the next,
this miserable feeling clung to her, and
at the close of the next the substance
was there as well as the shadow. The
hale old gentleman had, through a
strange casualty jiassed into the spiritual
world.
The one near relative (a wealthy
brother), and various remote ones gath
ered to pay the last token of respect and
hear the will. But no will was found.
Consequently Mr. Oeore Dean was tri
umphant, without the need of blacken
ing his hands and conscience.
Night after night had been seoretly
and fruitlessly spent In rummaging the
cscretolres, etc., of his departed brother,
with the firm determination that Nan
nette should never touch a dollar of that
brother's money. The morning after
the funeral he sent for Nannette to meet
him in the library.
Hhe came in, pale and weary-looking,
alittlosurprlseln her soft eyes. Mr.Dean
was prompt. Majestically waiving her
to a seat, he cleared his throat, and
said :
"Of course you know, Nannette, that
my brother left no will V"
" I have not thought about it at all,"
murmured Nannette, wearily, finding
be paused for a reply, and then added,
as wearily: "But you are mistaken.
He did leave a will."
Mr. Dean started, flushed and ex
claimed, hastily:
"Where Is it V,
" I don't know," sighed Nannette.
" I only know he told me he had made
one."
"Oh!" ejaculated Mr. Dean, with
prolonged emphasis, and then said:
" That amounts to nothing In the ab
sence of a will, I reign master here."
Aroused from her apathy by the sig
nificant tone, Nannette looked up, in
quiringly, and he continued: (
" Yes, the law gives me everything,
and you, Nannette, will see the pro
priety of establishing yourself else
where." " But papa told me he had made me
his sole legatee," said Nannette In slow,
startled tones.
"That won't stand lu law," sneered
Mr. Dean.
" You don't mean that you are going
to turn me out of my own home V" ex
claimed the girl, Incredulously.
" Certainly not," again sneered Mr.
Dean. " In the first place, you have
no home this place is mine, in the sec
ond, I expect you to go."
" To go I" echoed Nannette.
" Certainly," was the cold reply.
" You are nothing to me. My brother
adopted you I have nothing to do with
that. You will therefore do me a favor
to pack your clothing and leave at your
earliest convenience. Of course I do
not interfere with your appropriation of
any personal effects." And a bow of
dismissal followed the heartless words.
Nannette rose with bursting heart,
and was about to leave the room when
her eyes fell on the old scrap book which
had been carelessly pushed to the back
of the library table the last day of Fred
erick Dean's life and there remained.
" Y'ou will allow me that!"' she mur
mured, huskily, Indicating the desired
book, adding, as he drew it toward him,
and turned a few leaves : " For years it
was my daily duty to paste those articles
there, and and it is so associated with
him."
" It is valueless to me, you can take
it," George Dean returned, majestically
pushing it toward her.
She lifted It with a bow, and silently
left the room. The rest of the day was
spent In gathering her wardrobe togeth
er. It was nearing dusk when she took
up the old scrap book, intending u
place It in the bottom of an empty trunk
which she had devoted to her books.
But with a burst of tears she sat down,
and taking it In her lap, turned leaf
after leaf, thinking as the bereaved only
can think.
Twenty minutes later she had wrap
ped up the book, and was proceeding up
town as rapidly as a horse-car would
take her. Bhe alighted at a handsome
residence, and was shown Into the li
brary of the owner, with whom she ob
tained an Immediate Interview.
Whatever the nature of the interview,
it was soon at an end. Dusk had fallen
when she returned to the place she had
so lately considered her home, she had
barely freshened her toilet, when the
tea-bell rang. Bhe descended at once,
and entered the room with Mr. Dean,
who had Just come from the library. A
look of supercilious surprise elevated his
brow for a moment, as he said :
" You did not get off this after
noon V"
" No," answered Nannette, simply;
and, as usual, took her place behind the
tea urn.
Evidently annoyed, Mr.Dean said,
as he seated himself:
" You go to-morrow, of course ?"
" It depends upon circumstances," re
plied Nannette, calmly.
A hot flush mounted the gentleman's
brow, and he replied angrily :
" I shall see to It that the circum
stances are quite favorable to your de
parture." Nannette made no response, but pro
ceeded to do the honors with the same
ease and grace which had characterized
ber during her father's life, scrupulously
observant of the courtesies due from
hostess to guest.
"The Impudent Jade!" thought Mr.
Dean 5 but he took his supper In utter
silence.
As they rose from the table there was
a ring at the door-bell.
"Who can that be?" he said, and
stood waiting.
The servant entered and answered ihe
question,
" Mr. l'erklo, sir. He wishes to see
you."
s " Perklo what I Lawyer Perklo "
" Yes, sir."
"Where is he?"
"In the library, sir."
With a sad smile Nannette followed
him from the room, and went to the
drawing room. In the course of taal
an hour Mr. Perklo joined her there.
"Well ?' she murmured, anxiously.
"All right," he laughed. "He has
but one desire, I think, and that fc to
slink away without seeing you again.
A more crest-fallen wretch never breath
ed. At first he wanted to dispute the
validity of the will, because it was writ
ten on the blank leaf of an old day.
book, which had been turned into a
scrap book.but I succeeded In proving to
his satisfaction that a will Is a will
whether penned on a sheet of paper, or
In a book. Ah, there he goes!" he
smiled as the front door swung heavily
to. " He will give you nd more
trouble."
Mr. Perklo was right. Mr. Dean had
left, and Nannette heard from him no
more.
THE ARTIST SOLDIER.
THE story of Andre, as we commonly
read It, tells little of Andre himself.
It tells nothing of the manner of man
he was, how he looked, how he dressed,
and what he said and did.
We read of him as the spy. He was
one at the time of his death, but that he
believed to be his military duty ; he tried
to serve his king as well as he could,
and perhaps we cannot blame him so
very much, even if we did punish him
so sadly. He was something else than a
mere spy, and it is more agreeable to
think of him as an artist than, a soldier.
He did not love war as some soldiers do,
and while in this country hemany times
tried to soften the hardshipsand troubles
of the times. Once he found a poor lit
tle boy who had been captured by the
British soldiers in Westchester county,
and brought to New York to be put Into
the dreadful prisons the British then
kept In our city. Buch a little fellow
could do no harm, and Andre took him
away from the soldiers and sent him
back to his mother in safety.
. Besides painting and drawing, Andre
could sing, and makecharming verses,
and cut out portraits in silhouette.
Many of his pictures and letters are still
preserved, and could you read the let
ters, you would see that he was a genial,
lively, and entertaining man. While
he was in this country he kept a journal
and It Is said, it was full of pictures of
plants and Insects and animals, people
and places, bits of scenery, and plans of
cities and towns. He used often to give
his pictures away as presents to his
friends ; and once, when he was a pris
oner in our hands, and was sent to
Lancaster, Pennsylvania, for safety, he
taught the children in the village to
draw. One of the Lancaster boys
pleased hlra so much, and displayed so
much talent, that Andre offered to make
an art ist out of him, and take him to
England when the war was at an end.
The boy's father would not consent to
this, though he was pleased to think
the English officer should take so much
interest In his son. The prisoners were
afterward removed to Carlisle, and
Andre had to leave his pupil. He did
not forget him, for he afterward wrote a
letter to the boy's father, In which he
said that the boy " must take particular
care In forming the features In faces.and
in copying the hands exactly. He
should now and then copy things from
the life, and then compare their pro
portions with what prints he may have,
or what rules he may remember."
All this was during the war, and
Andre himself was an enemy ; but we
can hardly think of him in that way.
He regretted all the troubles of the
times, and, unlike his brother officers,
he never called us " the rebels," but
" the colonists." Even to this day, his
letters and little pictures, his sllhoutte
portraits, and sketches and verses are
preserved In some families in 'remem
brance of the kind, merry, and culitva
ted English gentleman whom we now
oall Major Andre, the spy.
When .he was exchanged, he went
back to the British army stationed at
Philadelphia, and there he again dis
played his many talents. He painted a
drop-scene for the theatre that was
thought to be very fine, and they said of
it that "the foliage was uncommonly
spirited and graceful." He also wrote
verses to be recited in the theatre, and
even took part in the plays. Once there
waa a grand pageant in Philadelphia a
water procession on the Delaware, with
gayly trimmed boats, and bands of
music, and ladles In fancy costumes all
ending in a grand ball. Andre took an
active part In all these pleasurlngs, de
signed the costumes for the ladles, wrote
verses, and helped to put up the deco
rations. All this happened when our poor and
discouraged troops were having a sad
time of It, waiting and watching for a
chance to strike a blow for the country.
At last, the British weie obliged to leave
Philadelphia. Andre went away with
them to New York, and it was there
that he received the commission to treat
with Arnold for the surrender of West
Point, and that only ended in his capture
and sad death.
On the last day of bis life he drew his
own portrait from memory with a pen,
that is, without the aid of a mirror,
and the picture ' is still in existence.
While tn New York, Just before he went
up to see General Arnold, he made
several silhouette portraits of ladies who
then lived there, and all were said to be
remarkably correct Ukenesses,and were,
of course, greatly prized afterward as the
work of the young, genial, and light
hearted British officer.
Those Revolutionary days are now
very old, and the handseme English gen
tlemnn has been dead long, long years.
We can forgive his efforts against us
now, and perhaps It will be more agree
able to think of him as the artist-soldier
rather than the spy at West Toint.
Both Sides of the Case.
ABOUT twenty-five years ago Hon.
B. S. Cox, the witty congressman
from the Sixth New York district,
practiced law in Muskingum and. the
adjoining counties in Ohio. On one
occasion he was retained by a Mr. Jones,
who hud been prosecuted by a Mr.
Brown, in a suit for damages, laid at
twenty dollars for killing the latter's
dog, a fox hound. The suit had been
brought before a country Justice of the
Peace, and, after a short consultation
with his client In the rear of the barn,
"Bunset" appeared before the august
court and announced his readiness to
proceed with the trial of the case. Bix
witnesses were sworn and examined for
the plaintiff who all told thesame story,
viz., that on one occasion they were at
work In a " clearing," when the defend
ant joined them leading the dog which
was peculiarly marked with black and
white spots, by a cord, whereupon he
deliberately killed it in their presence,
and threw it into a burning log-heap
where it was burned to ashes. The
'squire adjusted his specs, closely scru
tinized the bustling little attorney, and
remarked :
" Well, Mr. Cox, I guess your client
will have to pay for this here dog. Tho
judgment Is against you."
"But hold on," protested Bunset.
" Y'ou will hear our side of the case,
won't you?"
" O, certainly," responded the 'squire;
" But I don't see how you're goin' to
change the judgment of this here court..
The dog is undoubtedly dead. Hev you
any witnesses, Mr. Cox ?"
"Yes, one," responded S. B., and
nodded to his client, who retired to the
hollow back of the barn and soon re
turned leading a white dog covered with
black spots.
" By jimminy," exclaimed Brown, as
soon as he saw the clog, " by jlmmlny
that is my dog, as sure as guns." All
the other witnesses identified it as
Brown's dog. Finally the 'squire re
versed the former decision, remarking:
" This here case is reversed, because
the dog ain't dead, and the court Is of
the opinion that it is always best to hear
both sides of the case before rendering
judgment."
Jones then threatened to bring a suit
for malicious prosecution, but Brown
compromised by letting him keep the
dog and paying the costs. It afterward
turned out that Jones had a worthless
dog that looked very much like Brown's.
He enticed the latter's dog to his place,
tied him up, and took his own worthless
cur to the " clearing" where he killed
and burned him, as detailed by the wit.
nessess. But, of course, Brown never
found this out.
A Cool Conduotor.
IT WAS years ago, when Frank O. J.
Smith had put the Buckfleid branch
Into running order, and had built a
steamer to connect with Mexico and
Bumford on the Androscoggin. Frost
was one of the first conductors on the
road. He seemed to think he could
drive an engine as be had been In the
habit of driving the North Waterford
stagecoach. His first grand operation
was to collide with an engine and tender
between Mlnot and Hebron, by which
both engines were essentially smashed.
His next brilliant exploit was close to
Buckfleid, when he ran plump into a
freight train. t w
Mr. Smith thought that would answer
and he dropped a polite note to Frost,
informing him that his services would
be no longer required on the road,
away posted Pete to Portland, finding
Frank O. J. at the old Elm House.
" Mr. Smith," said he, plum ply and
unblushingly, " I wish to be reinstated
on your road."
"What!" exclaimed the governor.
" Put you back on that road y"
"Yes, sir."
" Trust you again as conductor V"
"Exactly, sir."
" Bless me I and you have already
smashed up three engines for us, besides
endangering many lives!"
"Yes, sir and for that very reason
you ought to put me back there. I have
now learned the trade. You can trust
me. If anybody has any question about
the propriety of trying to put two en
gines ahead, on the same track, and in
opposite directions, It is not me, sir. I
have tried it twice, and I know it oan'
be done"
It was too good. The twain took
something together in Charley's little
back parlor, and Pete Frost was reinsta
ted. That was more than a, score of
years ago. Pete has been railroading
ever since, and has never met with an
other accident. In fact, he is accounted 1
one of the best conductors running out
of Boston.
VonumpUveti Take y of ice.
Every moment of delay makes yonr curs
more hopeless, and much depends on the Judi
cious choice of a remedy. The amount of teg
tlmony in favor of Dr Bchenck's Pulmonic
Byrup for Consumption, far exceeds all that
can be brought to support the pretensions of
any other medicine. See Dr. Bchenck's Al
manac.contalning the certificates of many per
sons of the highest rospectablllty, who bare
been restored to health, after belnff pronounc
ed Incurable by physicians of acknowledged
ability. Bchenck's Pnlraonlo Byrnp alone
cured many, as these evidences will show 1 but '
the enro Is often promoted by the employment
of two other remedies which Dr. Bcbenck pro
rides for the pnrpooe. These additional reme
dies are Bchenck's Sea WeedTonlo and Man
drake Pills. By the timely nse of these medi
cines, according to directions. Dr. Bchenck
certifies that most any case of Consumption
may be enred.
Dr. Bcbenck Is professionally at his principal
office, Corner Sixth and Arch Bts., Phlladcl-
plila, every Monday, where all letters for ad
vice must be addressed. 6 lmf
Strikes at the root of disease by purifying the
blood, restoring the liver and kldnevs to health
action, Invigorating the nervous system.
VEGET1NE
Is not a vile, nauseous compound, which simply
puige the bowels, but a safe, pleasant remedy
which is sure to purify the blood, and thereby
restore the health.
VEGETINE
Is now prescribed In cases of Scrofula and other
diseases of Hie blood, by many of the best phy
sicians, owing to its great success In curing all
diseases of this nature.
VEGETINE
Does not deceive Invalids Into false hopes by
purging and creating a fictitious appetite, but as
sists nature In clearing and purifying the wh.de
system, leading the patient gradually to perfect
health.
VEGETINE
Was looked upon as an experiment for Home time
by some of our best physicians, but those moat
Incredulous In regard to lis merits are now Its
most ardent friends and supporters.
VEGETINE
Says a Boston physician, " lias no equal as a
lilood-purllier. Hearing of Its ninnv wonderfu
cures, after all other remedies had tailed. I visit
ed the laboratory and convinced myself of Its
genuine merit. It Is prepared from harks roots
and herbs, each of w inch Is highly effective, and
they are compounded In such a manner as to pro
duce astonishing results."
VEGETINE
Is acknowleged and recommended by physicians
and apothecaries to be the best iiurlfter and
cleanser or the blood yet discovered, and thou
sands speak In Its praise who have been restored
to health.
F 11 OOF WHAT IS HEEDED.
Bobtos, Feb. 13, 1871.
Mr. n. It. Stevens:
Dear Sir About one year since I found
myself in a feeble condition from general debili
ty. VEGETINE was strongly recommended to
me by a friend who had been much benefited by
Its use. I procured the article, and after nslng
several bottles, was restored to health and dis
continued Its use. I feel quite confident that there
Is no medicine superior to It for those complaints
for which It is especially prepared, and would
cheerfully recommend It, to thow who feel that
they need something to Testore them to perfeot
health, Hespeetlully yonrs, .
U. I FETTINGILL,
Firm of S. M. I'ettlngltl & Co., 10 State St., Boston
, - 1 '
' CihoinSati, Nov: 28, 1S72.
Mr. H. R. Stevens :--Dear Sir The two bottles of
VJGETINE furnished me by your agent, my wife
has used with great benefit. '
For a long time she has been troubled with du
llness and costlveness; these troub'es are now
entirely removed ly the nse of Vegetlne.
She was a1 so troubled with Dyspepsia and Oen.
eral Debility, and has been greatly benellted.
THO8. GILMOKE, 2294 WalnntSt.
i'eel Myself a Xew Man.
.. . Natick. Mass., Jnne 1, 1872.
Mr. H. R. Stevens: Dear Sir Through the ad
vice and earnest persuasion of Rev. E. R. Rest, of
this place, I have been taking VEGETINE for
Dyspepsia, of which I have suffered for years.
I have used only two bottles and already feel
mjacii KiioH mm,. Aeafwciiuify,
DR..
J. W.
. CARTER.
Report from a Practical Chemiet and
Aprlhecary.
Boston, Jan . 1, 1874.
Dear Sir This is to certify that I have sold at
retail VA dozen (1852 bottles) of vour VEGE
TINE since April 12, 1870, and caa triily sav that
It has given the best satisfaction of any remedy
for the complaints for wh'ch It Is recommended
that I ever sold. Scarcely a day passes without
8 me of my customers testifying to Its merits on
themselves and their friends. lam perfectly cog
nizant of several oases of Scrofulous Tumors be
ing cured by Vegetlne alone In this vicinity.
.-: Very respectfully yours,
AI OUMAS, 468 Broadway.
To II. R. 8TEYKH8, Esq. ,. 61m
Prepared by H.R.Stevens, Boston,Mass.
Vegetlne Is Sold by All Druggists.
w
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