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About The Plattsmouth daily herald. (Plattsmouth, Nebraska) 1883-19?? | View Entire Issue (Dec. 29, 1888)
TI1K DAILY IlEUALD: PLATTSMOUT1I. NKBRASKA. SATURDAY, DECEMBER 29, 1888. " WHAT'S YER NAMET Trll me, tumia, irb&t'i jrer nmr Gin I atrt folk rankle: bam, TlwyU ajtlc in If I Mr ye; They'll ar the wnlles I caon hid . Sio' I've met the mornln's prid What wUi I u; they cm' yer J me tx sir, Uiat'a my name. Ye con turn yer face Uu bam a, Aii' nao ihauk for yer peeria; It'a my aJn. air. If ye pleaae, JiouUt wl' faltber'a Rood bawbees I Uinna like yer jeerin'. IjihkIo. I bae lan'a an kine. Ml mak' ye a kxldy One, In staU) ye ll aye be carried; Ye'U bau itfrrauU at yer ca', . "i'e'll haa ailks and aatins braw What aoe ye tae be maniedf Yer a f ule, air, for yer pains, Kit'p yer klne an' ailken train. Sic ne'er made guid boarta better; Some day atine may name I'll gto In exchange for aoe aa free, Kvn I'll Le one moo'i debtor. William l.vle In Detroit Free JIYSTEUY OF THE VALLEY. Alxiut ten years ao business con pclKnl mo to uiako frequent journeyt from Lausanne to Scntier, in the valley of LaLo Joux. At lir.it tUij mountain trip, which had to o made in an ordinary diligence, 'Doomed to mo extremely tedious. Then, littlo Ly little, 1 became familiar with tlio mountain ways that I traversed as in a dream, and at last I camo to love tliem. I loved the austere melancholy of the enraber horizons, the murmuring woods of lir, tho pastures of long, thin prass, anions which tho hardy yellow gent Luis grew, the isolated and silent chalet .4, and. above all, the lake, that mysterious lake which received many streams and had no visible outlet, but cirntiLHl tho surplus of its dark and slug eUh water into subterranean channels. 1 also 'acquired an affection for the In habitants of tho region, who called their valley the valley, as it there were no other in tho world. They were a sturdy race of mountaineers, peasants and work men, most of them being engaged in the manufacture of watches. They were descend ar.M of a number of families of French refugees, had old fashioned man ners, wero intelligent, laborious, saving, fairly well educated, scrupulously hon est and dioterlly pious. 1 took tho d'US'snce at the station or Romainmotfcrs about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, and by night it had conveyed me to Senticr, stopping at supper time at the principal inn of the village of Pont. Thereafter having partaken of a plat of soup, I was served with one of tliflfcd delicate trout which are the specialty of tho place, and with a bit of excellent "vacherin," the savory cheese of the country. The host saluted me, drank a small glass of white wino with me, and at mv departure gave me his hand with a cordial "au re voir." Every time I stopped at thi3 inn I saw in one corner of the room, seated at a table with a glass of absinthe before him, si gaunt old man, with a ealjow complex ion. Iio was negligently dressed and was smoking his pipe and contemplating i his glass; he was continually absorbed, apparently, in a drunken reverie or in memories of days long past. The inn keoper, whom 1 iinally questioned In re gard to his strange guest, 6aid: "That U II. Arnaud, who was the syn yic of Pont lu 1855, the year of the frirae." The horn of the diligence summoned me before I had time to inquire concern ing the details of this crime, which was raJcd the crime, just as they 6poke of tbe Tilley. On my next visit to this region, on stopping at Pont one cold, clear night in October. 1 was informed that it would be jiecessjirv to remain at (the place several hours in'order to repair tho diligence to w hir6ouio accident had happened. I was the only iassenger, and the inn keeper having gone to look after the 'liliqence, J found myself the only Ocea nian t of the room, excepting that strange ild man, who sat there smoking before his half empty glass. Curious to know more of this strange character I took a seat at tho table next to Ids. I helped myself to a glass of vermouth while waiting for my supper, and opening a newspaper which lay near by I began to glance at it. lie soon seemed to have tho same curi osity in regard to me that J had concern- head, which had been nodding; his eyes,' vliich were usuauy uaii cioseu, wmo opened efficiently to Cx their glance oa me; lus Hps moved as if he wished to peak, rad ho coughed. Then with a. trembling liand ho took his glass, rose with an eU'ort and came to my table, at which ho seated liimself opposite me. I Ji-id down my paper and addressed some words to him, which he did not seero to hear II- had resumed his accustomed -ittltudc; his ej-es were half closed, his head ihtfOTvd, and I almost believed that - he was spellbound to eternal silence. Ilis presence Iiecame embarrassing to me. I h?"n.n to feci uncomfortable, and that I nit-iiv becotufc. more at my ease before thiS nan. who seemed to take no notice of me, l again 100. up mv uei. when he suddenly (stretched out toward r 1 2;ea ,vt bony hand, laid it upon my !!h which I could feel per VOUS lit i-mti anil Raid 'D-'txou net know tha history of tho crime' I v.t.3 ctomKei and signified my ig norance by ehaLxsj, mv head- lie at once resumed in a h jjow voice: A?:. well! I will ten it you." And, without rrLixing ijj oa my arm. which, for a inomei,tf strong graap pahfcd, he began to reak in the measured accents of thepeop4eof that region, his face wearing fixe expres sion, which never for a moment feAnged: , "It vrv.s in 1 855," he said- "I waVthen the tynJic of Pont One morning old ileyl.-ui. tho forest guard, came to 6im mcn me. He was greatly agitated. saidr 'Have you not heard, M. Arnani2 Old ilatLurin luis been assassinated; hik Lodyha-j been fo;md lying in the roa near Lien. Coz:a and see,1' - t 3D .trcngo con-panion paiuaa for a mod Ic am luj'Yi' cad th poa -J-jloks mod t and then eaid: " A 1 cot know who Mathurin was? , Trench peddler. He often the valley selling pens, paper. Loks, etc Ho had been known jiero fur years. 'He had cot- cn enemy In tbe world. Ho waa a good, honest fellow, a Protect ant like ourselves. Ho told storks t the children and explained thed"" 1 "l. Only the day bcitftm ts r 1 " itr jrl1 I cr.n em him 'asrlainly as I sco you, with liJs old wrinkled face and gray, locks. And ho looked bo peaceful nat urally, for his soul was in. heaven. At ileylan's suggestion i put my hand on his breast to learn if his heart still beat, but it did not. lie was dead. Ho had six stab wounds here, here, here, here, hero and here." Ho indicated on hia own breast tho places where the murdered man had been 6tabbed; his forehead was beaded with perapi ration and his words seemed to stick in his throat. For a few mo ments ho remained silent, apparently contemplating the torpsoof old Mathurin photographed on his memory. Then, re suming his story, he said: "The governor of tho provinco asked mo who committed tho crime, but I did not know. How could I? How was any one to know? Thcro had never lecn an assassination in this part of tho country. Nothing had been taken from Mathurin. Ho must have been killed for revenge, as Mey lan said. Hut who had thus wreaked his vengeance and for what? Every one in the village loved poor old Mathurin, who came here twice a year like a bird that brings good luck. All began to search for tho murderer tho gendarmes, the judges, all tho people of tho village but it was useless. And the search was continued for a long" time, although nothing was discovered. Nothing ever will bo discovered nothing! No, it will never Ihj known who killed poor old Ma thurin 1" As ho said this his voice was gradually lowered, and was Iinally lost in sobs. A moment afterward, relaxing his grasp, he took his hand from my arm, and his heaving chest sent forth great sighs. At last he carried his glass to his lips, took several swallows of absinthe, roso from hi3 chair and returned to Ins corner, where he resumed his former mvsterious manner.- Looking at him, I asked my self if I had been urcaming, if this extra ordinary being wero a reality and had been sitting faco to face with me, his hand upon my arm, and speaking to me. The servant came to tell me that my supper was served at another table. I did not have much appetite. However, I made an attempt to eat my soup. When the innkeeper returned I called him to me and said: "Tell mo what vou know about this strange man who has just related to mo the story of Mathurin's nssassination." My hoot 6miled calmly as ho replied: '.'Ah, ho has told you that story. I knew ho would tell it to you some time. Ho tell3 it to evervbody. Ho can think of nothing else. He is not happy, poor old man." "Uut 'why does he remember with such distinctness a crime, which most of tho people of the village have long since for gotten?" "Ah! He was the syndic when t!o crime was committed. It was he who first touched the corpse after its discov ery. It was ho who formally announced tho murder to the authorities and or dered an inquest; and ho took an active part with tho iolice in searching for tho assassin. All this affected his mind. At first no change in him was noticed, ex cept that he 6eemed to be a little nerv ous. People said, 'Ah, tho poor syndic; he is troubled over this affair.' Then, when tho inquest was finished, ho ecnt jn his re signation as syndic, saying hat ho was not worthy to hold the office, tinco he allowed people to l-o assassinated jus as if he were to biaino for Mathuiin:s murder. To show their confidence in him, the people wished to sc ud Mm to tho grand council. He declined to go. He was the wealthiest land owner in this part of tho country, and was held in great esocin by all. Soon afterward he lost his Wife and also his. son, who diet of a cold caught on the frontier during tho war. Then ho took to drink, and would repeat to people over and over again the 6tory of Mathurin's murder. People began to shun him, and at last he talked with no one except strangers, to whos he recounted the history of tho crime. Ves, he' is certainly demented, and absinthe has helped to unscttlo his mind. He no longer busies himself with anything; his affairs are in disorder, his prop-erty is mortgaged, and in a few years he will become a charge on the commune." In my dealings with the inhabitants of the valley I had found them to be very conrientjous people, and could under stand how their sensitive minds might be tortured by scruples and doubts. How ever, the case of the old syndic seemed extraordinary to me. I believed that I had found in it one of those strange cases of mental derangement resulting from the exaggeration of one faculty, or from dwelling upon one idea, to which the psychologists were beginning to give a great deal of attention, and I made up my mind that I would follow it more closely. As soon as- I had finished my sunper I approached tho old man, who had just been served with another glass of absinthe, "Is the place where the murder was committed far from this village?" I asked. He raised his eyelids, looked at me a moment, and then rising, said: "Come, and I will show you the spot." Vv'o left the inn together. Silence reigned throughout the village. The houses, the roofs with their chira nevs, the trees and the massive old chl:rch were all distinctly outlined in the white moonlight. In tho keen, frosty air I could hear the fallen leaves crackle under our feet; while the boughs of tho evergreen fir trees repeated their mono tonous plaint. The waters of the lake, a largo part of which was visible in the nicer, light, driven by the wind in waves upon the pebbles of the 6horo, com plained like the firs. Along the road Arnaud's shadow advanced beside mine. Ho walked with a heavy step, his back slightly bent, his head lowered and his anrs swinging? He said nothing. By degrees, as we went on over the road, whick took lis some distance from tho lake, he seemed to walk with more diffi culty. Although his face was 6till im ciobilo and his step was slow, Ins breath ing was heavy, and at last he proceeded oulv with great effort. At a turn in the road where three trees formed a 6ort of a triangle he paused, drew a long breath, csd with a quick, almost automatic ges ture of thp Tight arm, said : Tt,i'n in fhA anni " y There was nothing sinister about the iploco. - I I wanted to ask the old man several Questions. Contrary to my expectation, I is first emotion having been overcome, 3 CSi74 more reejy ui&n at uie 11111, us J, bavzj been obliged to make a great e?ort, be fcad succeeded through that ef fort Lx f itting soma lucidity into his large shoes, with heavy nails. After the murd.M ho went toward the lake by that filth; path which crosses tho field, per liapi UicntKB he wanted to wash his h.-.!ii.i. lie returned and took 100 steps toward Lit n, apparently to throw people oiT his truck: then he went to Pont. At tho edge of tho village his traces were jo. t at fcix paces from my house. The hi.ifu was never found. Nothing w;is n:i.i:;cd from Mathurin's cttecU; he had 1;J francs in hi. pocket. Could you conceive of any tiling w mysterious? Up to the present 'tiiiiL- the imaileier has not l"-c;i discovered; that's certain. Tho af fair happened so long no nearly every one has forgotten it, P.ut I 1 have not forgotten it!" As he uttered these last words in a broken voice, his face ktill expression less, his eyes fixed on the fatal spot, the problem "which had already presented itself to mo was brought to mv mind more clearly than ever. ' How, 1 nked myself, could a sensible man one whom the citizens, not only the ignorant peas ants, but the intelligent and educated people, intrusted with their interests be cause they considered him the most' capable and honest man among them how could such a man Ihj driven almost to monomania by the murder of a ped-. dler? Tho continual contemplation of j some dark problem might, of course, cause such mental alcrratioo. on ine other hand, tho peaceful life of those mountaineers was too 6iniple find too healthy to bring on mental troubles which result from the overwork, niubb tion, intcinierance and excesses incident to life in the capitals. Thus 1 quickly argued with myself while Arnaud stood there rooted to the spot, as though PiM'libound by his memories. I looked at him again. His face was still expressionless, hut tho sweat rolled down his cheeks, and in his look there was something terribly tragic. Then a hor riblo suspicion, which perhaps had al ready been outlined in my mind, sud denly presented itself to me, and in stinctively without reflection I ex claimed: "liut, you wretch, it was you who killed himl" Arnaud turned toward me, his eyes wide open, his form almost erect. A little foam came to his lips. Ho clinched his fists and came toward me, and then, as I retreated, ho threw himself upon the ground, exclaiming in a hoarse voice: "Ah! do not denounce luel Do not de nounce me!" Ho dragged himself along the ground. At last bio features underwent a change and his convulsed face, contorted mouth, dilated nostras and enormous eyes ehowed his tenor. Something of the fear that possessed him was communi cated to me, and at tho same time 1 felt great pity for him. What crime deserved this long eriod of torture? What pun ishment could compare with jt? Gesticu lating wjldly, he repeated his prayer in a husky voice: "Do not denounce- mc! Do not de nounce me!" "Do not fear," I said, "I am neither judge nor informer; I will keep your secret. 12ut why did you" He divined my thought and interrupted, me, exclaiming: "No! No! No I fan say no more! That will never bo known! Never!" Then ritmir from tho eround with all the ngiiity of a young man, lie took Might cud ran toward tho village. During the following winter I did not havo'occasion te revisit the valley, but in tho spring 1 p.gain went to Sentier. On stopping at the inn at Pont I no-, ticed that tho corner of tho room where old Arnaud used to sit drinking absinthe was vacant. I asked the inn- j keeper what had become of him, I Ah, tho isoor man!" he replied. "It is a sad story. You know I told you that ho was a" littlo crazy. Well, it was found that he had lost his wits alto gether. Ho Iinally persuaded himself that it was he who had killed old Mathu rin, and hodenounced himself as the murderer. It becaruo necessary to put him in an Insane asylum." J "Hut," I said, after a slight hesitation, 4what if he wero not insane? Wrhat if he really were tho murderer?" My host regarded mo with sjq air of . stupefaction. "lie a murderer!" he exclaimed. "How can you imagine that he would commit cuch a crime? He did not have an .en emy and was the most upright man in the place!" Tius perfect confidence had tho effect of shaking mv conviction. I kept old Arnaud's confession to myself, and I liavo never made up my mind whether he was an assassin stricken with remorse or the victim of monomania. Trans lated by A. K. Haven, from the French of Edouard Kod, for New York Press. Mastodons la Alaska. That the mastodon was once rtfcarnon in Alaska is certain from the great num ber of their skeletons, found in the marshes and clay banks of the Yukon and northern plains; but that this huge pachyderm still exists there in the liv ing state has never been deemed likely, or even conjectured, till recently. This conjecture rests on reports byway of the Stick Indians on the White river, .7. tributary of the Yukon. The account is that wliilo hunting on a wooded bottom, a few mUes from this river, two Indians came upon a trail, consisting of enormous tracks fully two feet across, and deeply imprinted in tho moss and earth, strewn along near which were broken branches of the trees. Following cautiously on these signs, they at length heard the noise of the creature feeding, and presently espied a prodigious animal, as large, they assert, as a white man's house meaning the trader's one story storev Its teeth, they declared, wero as long as a man's leg, and curved outward, whil3 its ears were likened to a seal sldn in size. Iu color it was represented to bo dark brown. It leaned against a dead tree stub, and scratched its side, and its body seemed to be covered with patches of coarso brown hair. Terrified at the sight cf such enormous game, the two hunters promptly retreated. Other native hunters corroborate lhi3 story with similar accounts of their ex periences; accounts which they are re luctant to relate fcr fear of ridicule, or from some superstitious feeling regard ing the matter. The uncharitable attribute tho appari tion of tho 6tranre beast to the vision' disturbing effects of hoochinoo a pat-tifnlr-.rlv villainous kind of whiskv dis tilled from molasses. Others rejoirj th,t those Indians never take hoochinoo wh. le on a hunt or, in other words, that they t never gq on a hunt as long as thereH anv hoochinoo loft hi tho raucherle. Tl-i? r"y ba subjecting the narr- DEATH INTERVENED. A Young AVotnan AVho Four Accepted feuitora Havo Died. A strango story printed in the St. Louis Glcjbc-Democrat caused consid erable commotion in the southern end "of that city, where the lady in ques tion resided quite awhile. The story was told by a clergyman of tho I Episcopal church, who has been n suli'crcr from the lady's strange fate. The lady in question is but a visitor to America, whence she camo to try and .hnko olT a spell of which she firmly believes sho is the - victim. A few yvai-s previous to her leaving "His toric Caledonia" she returned from the patrimonial estates of the family, niae and ono-half miles from the llolyrood palace, in Edinburgh, to Aberdeen. lJy the death of her father, since her arrival in this country, sho has become an heiress to a large estate. Sho is rev lined, pmeeful and handsome, but tho fatality attaching to her makes her life an unhappy one. When but 17 yejxrs old sho became sf ron;;ly attached to a nephew of tho ii':oj of Carlyle. One day, while ridii.g across the heath in his com pany, f.ho had n presentiment that ho woiikl propose that night and that she accepted. She saw him, in a moment ary virion,' lying, pale and cold, by the to.K1.: ido. Bewildered, sho invol untarily stopped her horse, and in an-otlie:- moment fell in a swoon. He bore her to a cottager's near by, and 011 her recovery the bashful young man's love had becu t,o intensified by anxiety that, in a moment of mutual tenderness, they were betrothed. After escorting her lienne he had to pass the same spot to return to his xlomieile. The uext morning they found him dead near where she had fallen. Ilis horso had evidently thrown him, and he had been killed by the consequent injury to his head. The lady recovered, and eighteen months afterward she was betrothed to an English naval officer, who was sudden! v ordered to the West Indies to join ll. Id. S. s;cliooshvp Eurytiice. Tho next spring, on tho return of the ship home, she was wrecked, and all on board but two wero lost. Tho young lover was net one of tho saved. Time healed the laely's twice wound ed hcai', and her atlections were won by an English army officer, who was drowncel shortly after the betrothal. Tho night he was drowned she was attending a ball, and, according: to hew statement, she was seized with a sud den attack of dizziness and fainted, On recovering she said she had seen, in a vision, tho ball room suddenly transformed into a submarine '""erri containing nothing: b ;ne cpse. of llcrAa??tcd ."eutenant. She could never 2Z 1I1(iuccd to elance again. It took a great deal of persuasion to induce her to become a nance again. Uut the persistence of an American tea captain conquered her reluctance, and she accepted him. He returned to Philadelphia with his ship for the purpose of putting hi affairs in shape for the wedding. While his ship was at anchor off the Delaware Break water he was also drowned. The bride elect came to the Quaker City after warel, and, having relatives in Caron delet, resol veel to make a long visit to them. Tho clergyman who furnished the facts above related met and loved the lady, and she apparently reciprocated, but when he proposed she replied by telling him her story, and all his elo quence failed to change her resolution never to marry. His attention to her had been a matter of society gossip, so that there was something of a sen sation where there appeared in the so ciety columns of The Globe-Democrat an item stating that she had gone to visit frienels in the interior of the state, and would soon return to her home in Scotland to reside perma nently. A Legal Amulet. The plea of insanity as a defense in criminal actions is becoming pretty threadbare, but a device by which the same effects are secured seems to be working admirably. Nowadays it is the fashion to claim that tho criminal in an action, whether it be theft, black mail, murder, or what not, is the vic tim of a sunstroke. Apparently a sun stroke is tho most convenient thing a person can possibly have. It allows him to continue his ordinary course of life uninterruptedly, but confers upon him tho privilege cf doing anything his vagrant fancy may suggest, quite unhampered by moral or legal restric tions. . The Irishman who described a "child of fancy" as a child who did whatever he fancied eloing was not very far out of tho way in tlescribing the condition of a man who has been so fortunate aa to have a sunstroke. That lucky ac cident places him above responsibility. A man in a western city amused him self recently by firing a revolver into a crowd, wounding three persons, one of them fatally. A physician's cer tificate was produced stating that, owin-? to the effect of a sunstroke re-ceivc-tl in India, tho prisoner was at times irresponsible for liis actions. Of course, there was nothing to be said after that, and even the ieiea of shut ting tho man up seemed to his intel ligent and ; impartial judges a super fluous precaution. He was allowed to go at large on the strength of his lucid intervals, the inference being that the officials themselves wero net troubled by anything of that Port, It would not be tliificult to multiply instances although it is hardly neces sary; whoever has thought of the matter must have recognized the con- j vincing nature of the argument from sunstroke when properly applied to. the average jury. To 6ne vho has any inclination toward a disregard of j the laws .a sunstroke would seem to be of the greatest possible benefit. .It is a . thing, moreover, so easy to have, eo dif ficuit to dL?nrQYe and so admirably flex ible in its ctf ects, tjhat it would seem a matter of tho most obvious policy for whoever is Ukely ever to find himself at Tftriauce with authority to provide "mself with a certificate, of sunstrokor ' Boston Courier,. Lq 13d LLy ILL For suitable Holiday Presents we arc showing a fine line of Silk and Cashmere Mufflers and Silk Handkerchiefs at very reasonable prices. Fancy Linen Table Set, and some pretty designs in Stumped (jjoils ami Tinsel Tidies. On our CLOAKSiPLUSH SACQUES we have placed special low prices, low nongh to in terest tho purchaser. For HANGING LAMPS, FANCY CUl'S AND SAUCEKS and Fancy Glassware Bee through our Queensware Department. C. DEY & SOKI. I. FEA16I HAS THE LARGEST FURNITURE, HOUSEHOLD GOODS. In the city, which he is oiTerirg at Prices that Will make them sell. A complete line oi' Window. Curtains at a 6acrilice. Picture Frames in great variety. Yon can get everything you need. You can buy it on the installment plan, pay so much each month and you will soon have a fine turnished house and hardly realize the cost.' Call and see. SIXTH STREET, BET. MAIN AND VINE. Ff-ATTFIXLUI, M H. it Will Be $1 S in IF rOC WILL CALL AND AND JEWELRY That Frank Carruth & Son has before purchasing Christmas Presents. Prices are such that it would not pay to cross tb j street, let alone going to Omaha, this year. All tlwy aslf " To show you the Fine Goods and Give You Prices on every. ' thing you could ask tor in the line, which will be sold if thi y have an opportunity. A LITTLE CASH Will go farther this year than ever before. Don't Fail to call and see tho Display of fine goods. nATJK :CAfi'BUTtt & SOIL 3Dovy Blocks, Plattsraontb. B. &r.1.:Tlme ITable. GOINO VTK 'T. No. 1. 6 -.10 a nt. N-,3 -6 :40p, n. No. f 6 :47 a. l. ' No 7.-? iSi p. in. No. it. .-6 :17 p. in. No. II ;27 . nu OOINO FABT. No, 9.-4 !?3 p. 111. 'i. 10 :30 a. in. No. 0. 7 :13 p. ni. No. 10. 9 :45 a. ui, n n fp w7 ft rvt Wll IL W 7 Wh. m mm mm m a 11 11 ii 1 v 1 r 11 11 1 v; j 1AH AND FINEST STOCK OF STOVES, Your InsWe PocM SEE THE LAKGK STOCK OF . WATCH 9 ( I