Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About Plattsmouth weekly herald. (Plattsmouth, Nebraska) 1882-1892 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 5, 1891)
""WA .i AVFNCFTI AT T AQT- a World-Wide Chase. j$fe w"itl get to business at onoe. i Dare man ready to go to New York and I Iqaow he will act fair and square and Vvide with us when the time comes. jrto the Rooner you got that handwriting. Dm better. If you have any smartness all about you you can easily do it, And. Jre must have the writing to carry Je thing through." These were the Tords which Eugene's answer elicited. Hit listened attentivefy and asked: I "Well, what do you propose to do?" (. The first step will have to bo taken fcy you." said Emerick,, "but I will make suggestion. Tbe man who is to per sonate Percy Lovel is an expert pen man and can easily learn to sign his uamo like the Englishman, but you must got tho copy; and tho best means r know will bo this: you had better maintain your ploasant relations with ,tlbe Dolarog and tell Arraida that you mado a great mistake which need not ever your friendship. You will then hm speedily reinstated In your former position with the family. Then somo afternoon the sooner tho better try and persuade that fat old Blodger, whom you say is with them, to take Armida and bis fat boy to tbe exhibi tion, or anywhere out of the way, and you can stay to keep Mrs. Dolaro com pany. If you do not make an oppor tunity during that time to got one of that Englishman's 1 otters you are not quite as active and smart as I think you are." "Yea," repliod Eugene. "That ap pears to be a feasible plan, and tho last we can do is to give it a trial." So they parted on this understanding, little thinking under what auspice? their next meeting would tako place. CHAPTER XX . When Eugene next called on Arxnida he did as his father had suggested. He old her that he had made a great mis take and asked her permission to re main on friendly terms so that he might continue to improve himself under her tuition and guidance. I Armida gladly consented and he was nee more welcomed ,to the Delaro cir , ole. He did not again see his father for Several days, and was thereforo unable to report, but fortune favored his plans and one afternoon .when Eugene was feigning hard study with Armida, Mr. li lodger came bouncing Into tho room And announced that he was going to see the matinee performance at the Wild West show and invited them all to ao oompany him. Armida at once accepted the invitation and so did her mother, but Xagene made the excuse that his head ached. "All the more reason why you should go," said Blodger. "It will drive your headache nway. " Still Eugene would not be persuaded And Armida put it down tosulkiness. The excursion was. not to be spoiled, hou'pvflr, by his refusal. Mrs. Defaro suggested that he should stay at home and "keep house," as she playfully termed it. This was exactly what Eu geno wanted, and nothing could have suited him better. So he readily con sented, and the party went out leaving him to act as ho pleased. Mr. Blodger was in his clement. lie .took the little party through tho Amer ican Exhibition; pointed out those things in which he was especially inter ested, and finally they reachedth Wild West show and entered a private box which Mr. Blodger had already en gaged. The performance, so familiar to most Americans, commenced. Every 'thing went along pleasantly, and every body was delighted, nntil the show came to a close. After It was over the origin ator of it. lion. Buffalo Bill, held one f his celebrated receptions, while the visitors interested themselves In exam ining the tents of the Indians, thebuck fng bronchos and all the paraphernalia 6f the Wild West. At last when every thing had been een Mr. Blodger and his party turned to go. As they did so a disturbance sud denly took place near where they stood and two men could bo seen struggling On the ground. Tbe one seemed many year3 younger than the other and he was evidently holding on to the older man with an embrace which he intended should be lasting. With true English instinct the crowd gathered around the two men to see the fight, but when they noticed the disparity in age they mur mured: "Shame! Shame!" Still nobody tried to part them until a burly police man pushed his way through the crowd and endeavored to part the combatants. With the help of a bystander he raised the struggling men to their feet, but Still the younger man held on and would not loosen his hold. "I will not let him go," he cried. The people thought him crazy. At first it seemed to he only a drunken squabble, but the onlookers soon noticed that each of the men were well dressi d and then they knew that something moro serious than a momentary quarrel must be the cau.so of tho disturbance. The younger mm who cried out so loud ly was fats lied and hot; his cheeks and neci: v. i vo red as fast 'owing blood could fcirke tlii.i.i; but the .lder man was pallid with the sie'kly hue of death. This v.-as only the commencement of tho trouble, however. The crowd had a delectablo treat in store for the in. Mrs. Delaro was al"- to retreat from the pot when she heard una iVi-o:;;zea a voice she knew weJl. She at once turned and raising her vail looked to ward whore tho burly policeman stood holding his two prisoners. There she beliflJ ;v dght which made her heart leap for joy. Without a word to her companions she ran towards the police man and'clbowing her way through the crowd grasped the young man's arm and cried out: "Percy Lovel! You alive? In Ileav- j en's name, what is tho matter'.' ' j Percy turned his eyes towards her and in the same moment gave the man ho held a powerful twist which brought bis face in contact with Mrs.. Delaro' s, and shouted: "Do you rccojjnizo him?"' D.'d she? Ah, this was the supremo moment of - years of anxiety and pent Op hatred. Throwing her arms back with a tragio air, six exclaimed la joy ful accents: "Leon Velasquezl My husband's murdererl Thank Heaven, we , meet at last!" If the words bad been maglo they could not have had a quicker or stronger Influence on the policeman. lie was In stantly awakened to tbe seriousness of uv VAUVU HUM AM JOM frUJ9 iUAU 4 takes to write it he had manacled the accused man, and was bearing him off towards one of the offices, telling Mrs. Delaro and Percy to follow him. Mr. Blodger, Armida, and Stephen Blodger, Jr., had immediately followed Mrs. Delaro to ascertain what the ex traordinary movement on her part meant, and as Mrs. Delaro followed the 41 !.,.! 1 1- I .1 It policeman, Armida drew near .to her and excitedly asked: , "Mother, dear, what dors all this mean?" ' "It means, ray child, that we have run him to earth at last oh, at last, at last!" "Whom do you mean?" "Ilush child tho man who murdered your dear, dear father many years ago. the man whom he trnsted, Leon Val asquez." Armida had almost forgotten that her father had been murdered, but this was no time for explanations, and Ar mida did not ask for one, but sue did ask: "Who is that man walking on the left of the policeman, mother?" "Percy Lovel, my dear,, whom we have so long mourned as dead." Then, without any regard to appear ances, the impetuous girl rushed after Percy, and shook his hands with a heartiness that gave both him and her mother great pleasure, but which would "lbos valxsqokzl my iiu8bjtd's uuk drrkrP have smothered Eugene's hopes for ever had he witnessed the deep genu ineness of her welcome. A moment later the policeman took his prisoner into the office, aud Mrs. Delaro and her party followed. During all tho time tbe prisoner did not utter a word. lie was allowed to sit down, and when once ho raisod his blanched, terror-stricken face, Armida immedi ately recognized it ''Mother, that Is Mr. Emerick; there must be somo mistake." "No mistake, my child. I know Leon Velasquez's face too well to ever for get it." Meantime, cabs had been ordered, and the prisoner, accompanied by two policemen, entered one, while the others were occupied by the rest of the party, and they drove away from the im mense crowd, which had gathered to the police station. The charge was entered, and Mrs. Delaro and Percy were in structed to appear next day and give their evidence against the prisoner. The entire pavty then returned to the hotel together. Mr. Blodger, who was considerably mystified and wished to hear the wholo story, decided to ac company tho party, and of course he had to take his heavy-weight son along with him. When they were once more seated in one of tho elegant suite of rooms which Mrs. Delaro occupied, Armida was the first to speak "Where is Mr. Bregy? Did he not say ho would wait until we returned?" "Probably he felt too unwell to re main and wont to his hotel," said her mother, bnt no sooner had she uttered the words than her maid came into tbe room crying and sobbing: "Oh. Mrs. Delaro, they have taken Mr. Bregy to the police station, and there has bees terrible trouble here. "Taken Mr. Bregy to the police sta tion why what do yon mean?" asked Mrs. Delaro. As well as she could, in her excited state, the girl related how one of the porters, in passing the door which was slightly ajar, had seen Mr. Bregy stand ing over Miss Armida's writing desk trying to open it. The man watched him until he had opened It and when Mr. Bregy had his hat on ready to leave he rushed in and seized him." The porter naturally felt justified in placing bim under arrest as he caught him with a bundle of Bank of England notes in his fingers. "Surely, there must be some horrible mistake about it all," said Armida. "Tbero H no mistake at all, miss." said tne garrulous girl. Tor tney Have locked him up at the pol-ice station, and he will be taken before the magistrate In the morning. Still Armida could not believe it, and was determined to go and see Eugene; but as she could not go alone, she ae- i cepted Mr. Pledger's offer to accompany her. While she was away on this errand Percy Lovel told Mrs. Delaro bis story, j from the time he bad left New Y-ork for South America up to tbe encounter at the Wild West Show. "For the past week," he proceeded, "I have been trying to find you. I have sought you at most hotels and examined the register nt the American Exchange, but could not secure any trace of you. "This afternoon 1 determined on in dulging in a little recreation and at tended the Wild West Show. Just as I was coming away, the man whom we were each looking for (though until recently I bad no positive grounds for apposing- that Julius Emerick and Ion Velasquez were identical) crossed my path, and. as I bad previously made up my mind that I would capture him if he ever came within sight of me, I at onc grasped him. The rest you know." ' Then thejr feJl to talkiwg of the many vseless efforts which they bad made to capture tbe villain. "Now," said Mrs. Delaro, "that I know that he is safe la the hands of the law, I feel that I can Spend the closing days of my life in .rest and peace. You, Percy," she said, "have been my true and devoted friend all through and will not leave me now. To you we owe every thing, and you are tbe only friend upon whom we can rely In future." "But where is our dear old friend, Mr. Wilcox?" asked Percy, who listened with surprise to these words. j "Do you not know?" 6aid Mrs. Delaro, ; opening ner eyes with astonishment. '. "No," replied Tercy. "I stayed only a short time in New York, and the peo ple at tbe bouse said he bad accompa nied you." "Poor, dear old man," said Mrs. Dola ro, "ho has long been laid to rost in tho qniet graveyard of his native town In New England." As she spoke theso words Percy was silent, and it was many minutes before ho could control his voice to speak. When he did his words came choked and husky "Would to God that he had lived to see this villain j brought to justicel So my staunch old friend is gone from usP . ' More than an hour elapsed before Armida and Mr. Blodger returned. When they did return Armida was in sorrowful mood, and said that she had seen Eugene. He had admitted burst ing open tho desk, but insisted that he did not want tbe money. What ho did desire ho would not telL "What shall wo do, mamma?" she asked. "He must not go to prison. Think of the disgrace." "We will consult a lawyer in the morning and see what we can do about it," responded her mother. That night was the happiest Mrs. Del aro had spent for many a year, and long and steadily did she talk with Percy "I AM NOT TOCB HUSBAND AND NEVER HAYS BEEN." about all that had transpired during his long absence, while Leon Velasquez and his dupe languished in prison. In due course the accused man was brought up for an examination. Mrs. Delaro in a firm voice related the his tory of the murder and swore to the identity of the prisoner. So positive and straightforward did her evidence seem that it appeared hardly necessary to call Percy LoveL Still he was placed in the witness box and gave an account of his adventure in South America. II o also told about the final clew of the silver-charm which had satisfied him as to the identity of the prisoner, and in a few moments the presiding magistrate committed Velasquez to jail to await the arrival of his extradition papers. The same day Eugene Bregy was brought up at another London police court and, despite the efforts of the law yer employed to defend him, he was Bent to jail for a short time. All this time his anxious mother was expecting news of him at Nice, where she at last grew tired of waiting and came to London. The first place she went to was the address which Armida had given, her. While Armida gladly welcomed the poor woman, it was with a sorrowful heart that they told her the story of the last few days. "But Mr. Emerick is in New York," she said. "Ho told me he was going there." "Then he did it to mislead you," said Armida, "for he Is now in jail awaiting removal to America to be tried on a charge of murder." "What! my husband a murderer?" cried the poor woman. "Why, you surely said he was not your husband?" said Mrs. Delaro. "But ho is. He told me so, and he has got all my money," said the now dis tracted woman. Mrs. Delaro was immediately struck with an idea. "Ah, he has deluded you Into believing it in order to rob you of your fortune." she said. "No, no!" cried Mrs. Bregy. "He i$ my husband, my Alphonse, and I must go and see him." To pacify the woman a carriage was procured and she was taken to tbe jail where Leon Velasquez was confined. He was brought into the cage to see r and she at once approached him "Alpoonse, tney say yon are no my husband. But it is not true, is it?" "f am not your husband, and never have been," be said, in almost indis? tinct tones. "Then why did you say you were?" she said. "I wanted your money," was the cool nejoinder. He JfrVw his end was near and he mercifnTl 3ot ths poor woman's mind at rest. Bfl she had to bo carried out of tho room in a swoon. CHAPTER XXI. "'Tis not my will that evil be immor tal' it is well for us that, while on this earth every thing good and beauti ful is short-lived, passing speedily away. evil and wrong are also but a question ; of time, and .have their end. "All j things come to him who will wait." 1 I.eon Velasquez's power of evil had . spread itself over a long and busy life- time had held full sway from the day J be had entered his teens until his hair a as turning gray. With the exception of the few years when be posed as an honest merchant, his active mind had always been bent on eviL He bad . caused tbe innocent to suffer for the guilty; had robbed men of the har3- ; pirnml accumulations of years, and women of their virtue, Had etr.iuod his hands In blood natil murder oame as natural to him as the killing of a bol lock to a butcher; he had drawn better natures down to evil and made crime the study of bis life. But the day of retribution was, fast closing in upon bim. Tbe murder of Mario Delaro was soon to be avenged, and before long he would realise tbe awful Justioe of the old Mosaic law "A life foe a life." And yet how poor a recompease. Robbed of her life happiness when it was just beginning to assert Itself, all that the victim's widow received in re turn was tbe knowledge thatretrlbution had finally overtaken the one who had robbed her of her treasure. And, compared to Valasquez, what a fearful price had she paid to socufe re venge. The best part of her life had been spent: wasted. In fact. In running to earth a monstrosity who bad at last fallen Into ber hands through sheer ac cident (as tbe greater part of the world would say), though there are those who would see In such an accident tbe won derful machination of an unrelenting Ruler, who has said: "Vengeance is mine." Never until now had Velasquez re flected on the possible results of the re pulsive acts of his life. His immunity from discovery had only tended to harden his soul and he had ever been prompted by one Impulse only greed for wealth which when acquired bad never brought him any genuine pleas ure. He had never onoe stopped to think of the price his victims paid to satisfy his own Insatiate desires. He had been absorbed in self and had lived a life In which none others shared a part. But now that the hellish conceits of his debased mind could only spend themselves on four prison walls, he was forced to think. Leon Velasquez, running riot as one of the most active of the devil's em mlssarles, had never paused to think of the exactness with which God's mills grind all, had never thought It worth his while to consider that those who es cape the mills the longest are in the end ground more quiokly and relent lessly. He was in the mills now and the great stones were beginning to re volve; so closely, so surely increasing the speed of their revolutions every mo ment, never to cease grinding nntil the grist should be fine as the finest powder. Ills nights grew restless, sleep al most forsook him, and the little snatches of napping which he did sometimes secure were only fitful slumbers disturbed by horrible dreams which brought to his mind in turn, like a moving panorama, the scenes of his devilish acta. Bold as he had been through life, he now shuddered under the shadow of the gallows, and so fear ful was the mental torture that at times be wished that the end might be speedy. When the bolts shot into their sock ets across his prison door all hope fled, and he knew full well that he would, after all these years of liberty, meet the penalty of his greatest crime. From the hour of his arrest he had been moody, and entirely ceased to speak to those who approached him. He neither ex pressed a hope of escape nor murmured at his fate. Somo imagined that the terrible visions of a just punishment were perhaps the cause of his silence, though others avowed that he was only meditating a bold and ' final plunge for liberty. Be that as it might, he per sisted in a morose reticence. While he lingered in prison Mrs. De laro and her friends were taking a rest from the intense excitement at a pretty little English watering place, trying in vain to forget for a time the final trage dy in which they must take an Import ant part. Mr. Blodger had been completely out done by the scenes he had witnessed. He made a hurried determination to re turn to America and never again assist at such exciting performances. He re ceived so severe a nervous shock that all the poetry of bis soul was crushed out, and he was compelled to postpone for an indefinite period the writing of an ode to Father Thames, in which he had avowed his Intention of patting a vast amount of research, labor and thought. The world was thus robbed of another literary gem. He was true to his word, and a week after Velasquez's Incarceration Mr. Blodger's little party of friends accom panied him to Ens ton station and bade him-"God speed" on his journey home. About five weeks later Mrs. Delaro, Armida and Percy returned to London to meet tbe American detectives, who bad arrived with tbe extradition papers. It required but a short space of time to perfect the arrangements for Velasquez's removal to California soil, where the law required that he should take his trial for the crime of murder. Lvery- , body concerned was anxious to start as soon as possible, ana it was arranged that the prisoner should be taken by ' the same steamer a the others, and no ' on mate anv .uemur to true except Armida. When sne heard the decision she said: "We must not travel on the same ship with that man. I am sure something dreadful will happen he will be a veritable Jonah." "What nonsense you talk-, my child. Such absurd forebodings never eter my mind." said her mother., Here Percy proffered a suggestion. "If you ladies would prefer sailing on some other vessel, I will sesure passage for you. l or my part, i ao not wisn to leava the prisoner again, until I leave him it a felon's ffravo. I want to know all tbe time that he is safe." "Exactly my feelings In the matter," said Mrs. Delaro. This seemed to settle the question, for Armida said: "Then, since you are determined, I suppose 1 must consider myself overruled." Consequently; arrangotaenbs were completed and a few day lat the party started for Liverpool. The ship oh which their passage had been secured was the "Dunrobia Cas tle." It was an unpopular steamer and had bfen purposely self-tied to avoid publicity and gossip on account of tht prisoner. As they steamfd down the Mersey and ver tho bar the day was one of'the most, enjoyable which could have been wisli-d for. There was a delight ful brooze blowinx frowi tbe sea. M1 the temperature was agreeable. With this kind of weather they were , favored until they passed the Fastnet , Point, when a deep log settle on them. This in turn passed away by the evening of the next day, and they were once .more steaming under sunny skies. But only for about twentj-four hours, at the end of which time they encountered a storm and were tosaed about In a violent manner for days together. Tbe old steamer which carried them was none too good a scahoat at the best of times, but now she acted In a most eooentrio manner and seemed entirely at the mercy and will of the waves. Neither Mrs. Delaro nor Percy had as yet fel alarmed, but Armida, who was, in the most favorable weather, only a poor sailor, experienced terrible torture and claimed her mother's attention all the time. What wKh the state of the weather and tho cries and moans which rose from the emigrants in tho steerage, the "Dunrobin Castle" was any thing but the pleasantest place on the Atlan tic For days together the raging storm continued, and it wae not until tho slow old boat bad been ten days at sea that the tempest subsided. When It did there was a worse danger In store for them. They were On the Newfound land banks in a fog, so thick that the officers on the bridge were entirely un able to see the skip's nose as she plunged through the heavy swell left by the storm. The fog-whistle's con- tinuous roar only added to tho general confusion which reigned on board, aod when the responding whistle of a pass ing steamer was heard It only increased the dread and apprehension of the pas- sensrers. After aboot thirty-six hours of this commotion the people quieted down and many seemed to have become as much accustomerl to it as old sea- dogs with the experienoe of a life-time! But at daybreak one morning a dull, heavy thud was felt through the vessel. and a second later shrieks and cries rent the air, which would have made tbe heart of any listener other than an old sea captain stand still. Then fol lowed a few moment ot suspense which was quickly changed to horror when the engineers ran up n deck shouting: "The ship is filling. To the boats!" Then followed the rush of hurrying, scurrying humanity from tbe steerage, terror plainly graves on every face, while over and above the noise and confusion rang out the resonant tones pf tbe Captain's voice shouting orders to the boatswain. The force of habit ap peared even on that scene of danger as the sailors shouted: "Yheavo Ho." while they lowered the life-boats from their davits. Louder than ail these sounds and far above the general ex citement reigning oa the "Dunrobin Castle" could be beard the shrieking whistles of the steamer which had struck her, and which was rounding to. in order to give all possible assistance in saving the lives of those on board the fast sinking boat. It was not long before the unknown steamer was almost alongside., and then commenced the work of transferring the passengers not an easy matter in a raging sea. Tbe paaienoo of tbe offi cers was tried to the utmost. Strong, rude men would try to push women and children aside in their wild efforts to be first to enter the life-boats, only to be driven back by the ship's officers at the noses of their revolvers. Occasionally one more daring than the rest would thrust a woman aside and try to pass her, but with a blow from the butt end of his re volver, the captain would knock him senseless, with the promise of similar treatment to the next who should dare to make the attempt. All this time tbe ship was rapidly filling and it became apparent beyond a peradventure that before many more minutes tbe "Dunrobin Castle" would sink forever into tbe depths of the ocean. It required teveral tripe of the life-boats to transfer all the passengers, but this difficult task was finally accom plished. The last load was being taken and none but the officers were supposed to be on board, when suddenly the two detectives in charge of Velasquez came rushing np the companion ladder excit edly exclaiming: "W can not reach the prisoner! What shall we do?" "That should have been thought of sooner," said the Captain. "Follow mer he shouted. "We will rescue bim if it is possible." "Let him go." said ne of the detec tives. "He'll be bang anyhow." But the Captain knew that although the prisoner was accused, be was not yet found guilty and his brave heart would not permit h!ra to leave even such a cur as Velasque to a horrible death with out an effort to rescue him Accompanied ly one of the officers Ohe big-hearted- oornmaader hurried down the steps on to the cabin deck. from whence he attempted to descend to the lower dck on which Valasques was conOnea. But Brave as tn old Captue was, there was an obstacle in ;ne way wnicn even am was fxj m to overcome. Tbe water was up too high and the reeuers could go no farther. Already the imprisoned man must be driven baek to bis bunk near the top of the room in confined; the wretched not pass out now alive none could reach him. which he was prisoner could and certainly Doubtless he was alive just alive his lfTe's span now to !' ;ne-snrd W moments. Now he -ould see how relentlessly the mills of retribution grind so surely so surely so surely aye. and so quickly, so much more quickly sometimes than even those who manipulate the machinery of the mills can foresee. Ahnont Velasquez had paid to the uttermost the penalty of bis crime committed long years be fore in the sunny Califr.rnian valley i!mit.f The ship might g down at any mo ment now. and unless his weuld-be. res cuers at once retraced their stps they might go down with it, e with regrets the Captain led the way to the deck. Sorrowfully he took his place in the life-boat. and. M thn sailor pulled away, he look-d longmjrly a' the old ship that Lad i;rrid him through so many thmian:l of miles of fair nd stormy weather. Before tl.ey reached the waiting fctoamor tim "Dunrobin Pnf1" cT'J on her hi-am -ri(l and rank in old ocean with a mijrhty rush,- j taking with her. to a higher tribunal ltan that et man, Leon Valasqaea. It was a tragio death. In some sense It was too grand a death for so mean, a nan to exchange the Ignominy of the gallows and the felon's grave la a prison yard for a burial beneath the rolling waves of tbe Atlantic coffined in a noble ship. And yet It was a horrible end a lonesome, solemn end, for the man who bad lived In tumult and ex citement all his days to meet tbe Urtm Monster and Great Avenger alone with his torturing memories of the past te know, while the merciless flood closed over him. that he died unmourned and unregrottod. Perhaps it was a poor satisfaction to tho widow of Mario Delaro to know that her husband's murderer, tbe destroyer of her happiness, was never convicted of his crime but when Leon Velasques, one of the meanest villains who ever trod this earth, went Into the unseen world to meet his Maker, it surely was a powerful Illustration of that infallible truth: Though the mills of God grind slowly. Yet they grind exceeding email; Thoush with patience stands He walth., With exactness grinds He alL" Not long ago a small wedding party passed down the carpeted steps of a church in New York City. The princi pals of that party were a handsome, sunburnod man of forty years and a lovoly woman many years younger. They seemed very h appy they titer very happy. They were Percy Lovel and hi wlfo whom we have known so long as Armida Delaro. On the same day there left, fronv one of the poorer French lodging-houses' aear Leicester Square, London, a funer al hearse and one mourner's carriage.; In that hearse lay the body of Emiile Bregy. and In the oarrlage was a maa who looked the picture of misery bis name was Eugene Bregy a living ex ample of "what might have been." irTTvruirr s s-jhoul oats. Hew Uttle Abe Acquired a Kavl4f of Heading- nd Wrftlae;. Little Abe was first sent to school when he was about seven years of age. His father had never received any "book learnln'," as education was termed among such people, and it was wlthvdlf Acuity that be could write his own name. One day, about four weeks after Abe had been sent to school, hie father asked the teacher: "How's Abe getting along?" The teacher replied that he was doing well; he wouldn't ask to have a better boy. He bad only one lesson book, an old spelling-book. During the school hours he was attentive to his task, and at night he would study over the lesson he had been engaged upon during the day; the highest ambition of bis life at this time was to learn to read. He believed if he could onlv read as well as his. mother, who rea the Bible aloud to tbe family eYZfyd?' the whole world of knowledge vTx opened to him, and in this cotTStui'e" be was about right. As the old Baptist minister told him one day: "When you can read, you've got something that no body can get away from you." In the Kentucky home there were but three books in the family the Bi ble, a catechism and the spelling-book which Abe Lincoln studied. lie had not been long in Indiana before he had read the "Pilgrim's Progress," his father borrowing It from a friend who lived twenty miles away. He was very fond of reading Msop's Fables," a copy of which came In his way. A young man taught him to write. As writing-paper of any kind was very scarce and expensive, Abe used to prac tice his writing exercises with bits of " ebalk or a burnt stick en slabs and trunks of trees. Sometimes he would ; trace out his name with a sharp stick on the bare ground. When finally, he was able to write letters, he was called to do tbe correspondence of many of bis neighbors, for very few grown persons In that region could write even a sim ple letter. As Abe Liuooln grew older he became a great reader and read all the books he ' could borrow. Once he borrowed of his 6ehool-teacher a Life of Washington. 11 is mother happened to put it on a cer tain shelf, and. the rain coming through the roof, the book was badly damaged. Abe took it back to the school-master and arranged to purchase it of him, pay ing for it by three days' hard work in the corn-field; and he was entirely sat isfied with the bargain at tht. At tho age of eighteen his library ccAisisted of tbe life oT rranklm, Plutarch's Lives, l' tbe Bible, tbe enellinr-book. AlueD'i iraoies, riigrim s Progress, and the lives of Washington and Henry Clay. A boy might have a much larger private library than this, but he could scarcely find an equal number of books better calculated to impart wholsome lessons as to correct living and right thinking. jeorge J. Manson, in Harper's Young People. Mis. . C. I)-n, of Sojth Bend, talked HO III I'lVi. II.ii.n f !... Wiwioinry Society, at 3 o'clock tliissf ternoon, at the residence of Mrs. H. J Dti i ilit. Is in- fell on Levi' n-ck yetidy anil tlif-y both did weep with rore (ittrrJie 'Eseow" E l gunned aim t audibly when hey gave rouM-nt to appa( from the commissioners' idt-Cixion. Charley U"ard&!e met with a painful i accident 1 ftWi t-k. While rntfinrr ...!') ..... m " ' I 1 . ..(. . . ... ... - 1 . X mil- i.w . vr s nut H'iin iiv n rioir I. -.. i ;.., . i, i i i ... uiu u't i.iui, tit IUU il'll XIOUI1I1 U-tll I(. !rrtii-ht the ax (ionn, s'riking hie r-ht leg. cutMiijj; a s.h wb-.u-, uj u,t b Jo-g It h ppeneil nt. ihe i nnu; l;e w brou- , - ... ' uwme ana a aortnr callit to t w W V w i . cut, asd he is doiug a'cely Wate- Republic ib. 1:1' a In f ) r