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About The Red Cloud chief. (Red Cloud, Webster Co., Neb.) 1873-1923 | View Entire Issue (July 5, 1889)
A word, ud aU heart
With Jay uaspeakaato
A word, aad theta'a Man
- - QaattdtnetaroBoraala
A word, aad fait la wrecked
And all life la Barred
A. word, aad lore is decked
la rainbow-hopes that area
A sky I
A word, aad hoeors stabbed,
Wr.tbc. asoaaing, bleeds, wails out
' Its cry I
A word, aad peace loac fled
From some aad heart breathes la
A algal -
Words, patient, tercor. ie
' Kind, trustful, loving, trae,
What power ta tbem lies
To beal aad help and blesa
Words, angry, foolish, vile.
Unkind, cruel, false, ah I
That fester rank, by was
Of Sataa blossoming la
O! lips, God-made, to let
The mnsio oat of Heaver's
For hurrying crowds God aet
A guard before thee ere
Frances Courtoaay Baylor, in America.
A MOMENT OF ANGER;
History of Mr. and
BY ROBERT BOTE.
Mr. Parker's questions concerning; the
old servant were put toiler, and this was
The woman's same was Donnelly or Don
ohue, or something like that, and when she
was with ua she was about forty years old.
She left as because, her mother had been
thrown on her hands, and, as they bad a
litUoproperty.they went off to lire together
lor tho rest of their days. Dun or the first
three or four years after she left us she
-would return at long intervals to visit oae
of our other servants, and at such times
she always inqtfired after Leonora, aad the
child frequently expressed great pleasure
at receiving her visits. We discouraged
them, however, because, as Mr. Champion
fens indicated to you, we did sot care to have
her associate with people of that class."
"Do you know," askod Mr. Parker,
where this woman went after she left
"My impression," replied Mrs. Champion,
"was that she went to Yonkers, but that
Ar IMrKESSIOM is," rjud mks. cuampioh,
"SUB WEST TO YOXKE8S.
s a very vague impression, and it may have
born in quite a contrary direction."
Doyou know," persisted Mr. Parker,
"ivJujthcrshe had any other relatives be--Wf-
her mother in this part of tho coun-
-irp, I think sho had none. All her other
-relatives remained in Ireland."
A few more questions ia the same vein
concluded the interview, and Mr. Parker
vrentaway feeling considerably depressed
with the magnitudo of the undertaking
which he had on his hands. He felt certain
shut if ho could only find this Donnelly or
Donohuc, as tho case might be, he should
discover sorao clew to the whereabouts of
Mrs. Brownlow. Tho moro ho thought it
aver the more he became convinced of that
theory and the more ho felt that he had
ra&do a favorable start in his inquiry. His
first step towards finding out where this
woman was was to go to Yonkers. Hovis
;ted every family of cither name in tho
town, but learned nothing whatever con
senting the woman. Ho could not even dis
cover that any such woman had ever lived
there. It took him nearly two weeks to
come to tho conclusion that in Yonkers
there was no clew whatever to the mystery
which he was endeavoring to ferret out
Then he determined to visit in a similar
-way all the towns along the river between
Now York and a point from forty to fifty
miles to the north. He began with the set
tlements included in the city limits, like
Spuvten DuyvU. From 8pny ten Duyvil he
worked his way gradually'north, and when
three weeks had passed he had scoured the
river settlements and had found absolutely
nothing. Then he returned to the city and
spent a day or two ia rest and looking after
bis business, which was suffenng sadly
from neglect. When he began to think
over the case again it occurred to him that
be had made an egregious blunder; he had
not taken into account at all the fact that
Mrs. Brownlow's opera cloak bad been
found ia the river.
"What an ass I was," he exclaimed, im
jntiently. "Here have I been searching on
the cast side of the Hudson for four pre
sious weeks, when the plainest evidence ia
the case shows that Mrs. Brownlow crossed
the river before starting elsewhere. Row,
-whether she met her death while crossing
the river or soon after getting to the other
side, of course I caaaot say, but I shall not
3ake another stop ia the sutler until I con--sider
what might have happened had ahe
crossed the river." Therefore he set his an
alytical powers at work again aad reasoned
that if she had crossed the river, as un
doubtedly she set owt to do, she must have
Jual some point ia view to which she want
ed to go. The hypothesis that she was going
to secjude -herself at the house if her old
serran stock ia Mr. Parker's head w spite
.of hictMlf. -h mast'aaie hawwhr, he
said Uf ihimself; "where ttusiromaa tired ;
sr, if not ibis womaa, she mast havaknowa
wfcere she was aoine. Ohi wiald not have
x Anft'kRa.iiv! tuAmvem bm ar racevBPQa a
acwvotiywwvi - -- .
..rtw la.viaa- her hoktiaaV
The upshot of his reasoning was that he
oeeared pcraafejoa at.ence to examine Mrs.
eWfrtf Badfot,pen fwrnedjoAtUv wiiM
h.H'LhM t sidewalk of her house came
i . Ji. " "
marks aad the handwritings on the en
velopes. AU those that were postmarked
from cities or towns at a distance were im
mediately cast aside, aad of all those that
came from points ia this immediate vicinity
he did not stop to read any whose super
scriftiaa was particularly legible or which
shewed ia its. style that the writer was in
the habit of letter-writing. After two or
three hoars' work he had sifted from the
mass ot letters a half dosea in different
hands which he considered it worth while
;:c look into.
The first one he opened was a begging
letter from someone who had announced
herself as a widow and aa entire stranger
to Mrs. Brownlow. Mr. Parker proceeded
bo farther, he threw that aside and took up
another. This was an application for a po
sition as a waiting maid from a girl who
said that she had hoard of Mrs. Brownlow
through some of her friends This also Mr.
Parker cast aside, and a feeling of discour
agement began to settle down upon him.
The next one was another begging letter.
The fourth be opened with the idea that he
was simply wasting his time aad injuring
his business by neglect for a merely
Quixotic enterprise, but as he read the let
ter his eyes began to open, his face lushed,
aad perspiration started out upon his fore
head. It read as follows:
"Dbab Mas. Xjconoba: It is such a long
time since i have seea yon. that i don't know
yoa will remberrae. I take my pen to rite yon
but to the City for sorrel years aad 1 spose i
snood not find my way. If 1 weak taer. i think
otyoaa grate meny times aad wnnder if yon
arasprllyasyoawerwea'aUttlegurL I hard
that yju wer marid aad got yur addres from
lizy, nie'GuM as worked for yon for a fue
weaki Tut Spring, she cam np to yonkers to
work sad I saw norther wen I went over to
jetsam Staff from the Markett ldoantask
you to aaser this letter beeawa yoa may Four-
get me and ma not care earthing aboat me,
bat I awlwas Lard, yoa when a little gnrl and
waat to tel yoa how Glad t am that yon are
hapy aad aoap yoa Will be so.
This letter, in a cramped hand, written
ia pencil, was without date or any other
evidence as to the place where it was writ
ten. The postmark was badly blurred, but,
looked at upside down, crosswise and in
every other way imaginable, Mr. Parker
thought that he could see that it was Yonk
ers. He read and re-read the letter, and
wondered how it could be that in all his
patient searching through Yonkers he had
not discovered any trace of this woman. It
was evident that the letter had been written
within a year, because it said: "I have
heard that you were manned," and Mrs.
Brownlow's marriage had not occurred
more than a year previous to her disappear
ance. So engrossed was the lawyer ia
thinking over this phase of the case that he
forgot for a moment that two other letters
in the pile that he had laid out remained to
bo read. Looking them over he found that
one was in the same hand as that which he
had just been reading, and on that the post
mark was plain Yonkers. He seized it
feverishly and opened it. That letter was
"Dxar Mas. Lkoxora t am sorry to here
that yon ar not aulwas hapy and 1 was so Glad
two that yoa stood think so kindU o your oled
sunrent as to rite a letter, i got it onely yes
tarda becaus we nevr hav male hear morn wuns
iatwoorthreweaks wen wo can ro for it and
as Ididenttelyoain my other Icter ware to
rito to its most fornit that i got it at all. butt
did and I tak my pen agen to aay that If yon
ever get Into trubblo ware a pare of strong
armes caa help yon, i wish yond let me no for
altho 1 am getting oled i am stll vcrry strawng
and wood lik nntbln beter then to sea yon agin
and glv yoa help, yet 1 hoap you will newer
nead it it Every boddy els la the wurld snood
go agiast you, you caa alwais depend upon your
oled sunrent. Mart Do nelly."
"Why in thunder," exclaimed Mr. Parker,
when he had read this letter, "does not the
woman say where she is and how to get
there? But I wiU wager one hundred dol
lars, if I ever get as much money, that Mrs.
Brownlow knew how to get there, and did
get there, and if sho did 1 can and will."
Ho took out his watch, looked at it, con
sulted a time-table of the Hudson .liver
railroad and hurried out of his office to Uke
an elevated train for the Grand Ceutral
depot. An hour and a half later he was
again at Yonkers. This time he went di
rectly to tho post-office. Hi. had not omitted
tho post-office in his former search, but no
one there had been able to tell him any more
about Donnelly or Douohuo than he had been
able to find in his. patient search through
the city. In response to his new inquiries
the postmaster said :
"Letters occasionally come through the
mail for Donnelly. It is a common name,
and none of that name has a box here. We
always put such letters in the department
to be called for, and, of course, pay no at
tention to tho inquirers who seek for mail."
Mr. Parker took out the second letter, in
which Mary Donnelly had said that she bad
not told Mrs. Brownlow where to write, and
looked at it again.
"It must be, then," said the lawyer,
"that she used the Yonkers post-office and
the Yonkers market, while sho lived some
where else." Then, a moment after, "that
somewhere else must be across the river."
Ho looked out across the chilly waters to
the bleak palisades on the other side, and
could see here and there little bouses
nestling against the rocks, widely separated
from each other and apparently out of
reach of civilization in every direction. In
front was the wide river, across which no
ferry regularly ran, and back of them were
tho steep palisades, an impassable wall of
solid rock three hundred or four hundred
feet high. Ho went to the wharves and
hunted up a place where there were boats
to let. To the keeper he said: "Do you
ever have occasion to take passengers
across the river to any of those houses on
tho other side!"
"Oh, yes," said the man, cheerfully,
"once in awhile. People that live over there
have to come over occasionally, and when
they do we take them, too."
"How do you know," he said, "when any
body over there wants to cross?"
" Why," said the keeper, "if they haven't
got boats of their own and have to come
over here, they hangout a white flag from
the roof, and if we happens to see it and we
have time, we just rig up a boat and go
over. That's all. Speakin'of that, there
was a flag hung out this mornln'from one
of those houses over there, and it was not
more than two hours ago that we went and
got a womaa as wanted to go down to New
"I wish you would take me ever there,"
said Mc Parker.
"We'll do it," replied the keeper, "but
the water is pretty rough, and it's bo pleas
"I, will payyoa whatever is necessary, no
matter what the price is," replied Mr. Par
ker, coolly, and he put a dollar bdl into
the keeper's hand.
The bdatraan started as aa if be had re
ceive, pi electric shock.
.asm Just wait bare about two seconds."
tlA UU . Ill) ... a Iim km mrat
,rT''-""rirT!f'fSMTfC j i.'- k:
fcWDaeconas;proveaiiOL oq sooui-iea i
ivwcu jbx. rmfm.vr wn;ro ubuk i
around" asain he 'slid z'uIa yoa know
then me of the people wbolive overtherer"
x o." he said, "lsm'i lraew these uv
five i t that particular Jiowie, although taey
hav? e therea Jeagtkae; I sever fcaf
pew to Jn'tfuira, .bat perhaps, one of mjltjst street coraer roVTSSS u"10
-.,i I a ' V T' I
uwoatB Me aaaio or that woman that you
took over the other side this morning!"
"Name!" drawled the assistant. "Donnel
h, I think."
"AU right," said Mr. Parker, "now you
get me across to tho other side just as quick
as you can."
Bending his arms to the oars the boatman
sent the smaU craft flying over the wintry
waves of the nver, and Mr. Parker sat in
the stern and held the tiller ropes.
It was about two o'clock on the afternoon
of the day that Mr. Parker went to Yorkers
tho last time that the mayor of New York
City, sitting in his office overwhelmed with
DO TOO CVER HAVE OCCASION TO TAKE PAS
business, was told by the policeman who
guarded the door that a woman wanted to
"What does she want?" asked the mayor.
"I don't know, sir, but I suppose it is
some complaint about a policeman or health
inspector. She's poorly dressed and has a
letter in her hand."
The mayor looked at his correspondence
and at his watch and said: "Well, show her
When the woman was presented to tho
mayor she tremblingly laid a letter on his
desk and said: "Mr. Mayor, if you will please
to read this, I think you wiU see that a
great injustice has been done that yoa can
Tho mayor opened the letter without a
word. As he read his brows contracted
and an expression of incredulity came over
his face. This is what he read:
"Mh.Matob: I bare just this day learned
that my husband has been convicted of mur
der; and, as I understand the matter, I am b'a
victim. I am too ill to come in person to the
city, but the bearer w.U tell yon where I am,
and will take yon or an oOccr to me. She will
also explain my story and circumstances. Re
spectfully, LxoxottA Bkowklow."
"Who gave you this letter, madamo?"
asked the mayor, sharply.
" Mrs. Brownlow, sir," she responded.
" She has been stopping at my house, oppo
site Yonkers, for a long time, and has been
very sick. 8he came 'unexpectedly one
night, or rather morning, for she had
walked almost all the way. We never see
the papers, and never knew what had hap
pened until I heard some people in Yonkers
talking about the hanging of a rich man as
would take place soon."
The mayor was puzzled. He did not be
lieve the story at all, thinking it a shrewd
invention of Brownlow's mends to gain
time. Alter a few minutes' thought he
summoned the district attorney, and to
gether they listened to the woman's story.
" It is a matter," said the district attorney,
" that needs attention, at any rate. If it is a
scheme concocted in behalf of Brownlow by
his f nends or Lawyer Parker, we must dis
cover who is responsible and bring him or
them to justice."
Then turning to the woman, who said her
name was Mary Donnelly, he said :
"I will have an officer accompany you to
Instead of sending an officer with the
woman, Mary Donnelly, to her house, she
was locked up in tho House of Detention as
a witness, and two officers were sent on the
errand without her. The poor woman pro
tested in vain against this treatment at the
hands of tho law. The district attorney and
tho chief of police thought that the matter
was altogether tc3 important to allow such
a witness to escape over the borders into
another State. The officers, instead of go
ing to Yonkers to get at Mary Donnelly's
house, crossed tho ferry into New Jersey,
and after a short railroad ride engaged a
carriage to take them to that point of the
palisades that overhangs the nver near
Yonkers. There, after crossing private
grounds, they came to a path down the
cliff made up of stone steps and patches of
wooden stairway that zigzagged hither and
yon across the rocks until it reached the
bottom. There they were within a few
feet of the river, uud a short walk along
the banks brought them to a low white
house nestling against tho rocks. Their
knock at the door was immediately an
swered by no less a person than Mr. Henry
Parker. He was not surprised to see them,
and directed them at once into one of the
few smaU rooms of the house, where the of
ficers, to their intense astonishment, found
Mrs. Brownlow lying weak but conva
lescent upon a couch.
The story of her flight and remarkable
disappearance was soon told. After her
quarrel with Mr. Brownlow upon the even-
OFFICERS, TO THEIR ixtensb
ingof the 14th she had gone to her room
in a desperate frame of miad. It was her
latent to go away for a few days and com
pel her1 husband to sue for her pardon. She
looked through her letters aad found three
from her old servant Mary Donnelly. One
of them, containing the woman's address
aad the description of how to reach her
'house, she put ia her socket. The others
sue jeib iu acr mumu, ; .. &.;
suDssqutBUysfoand them. With these and a
iiMall sum of monev ia her hand she started
'but of the house, but she had not goriexnore
4tmn?hfeck;befQC she realised that ahe
was ill preparea ia areas lor anew a jour
ney. ' Not knowing what to do she stopped
- m . -- , .
ait.; Them she was approached by a poor-
It ff P essm.sT f9
7TTTlSk iv Jh
I I I l V i A- IPt
lytlresscd woman who begged for charity.
On the impulse of the moment Mrs. Browtf
low exchanged her costly opera cloak for
the woman's cheap but large shawL This
garment so disguised her that no one whom
she met on the journey suspected for a mo
ment that she was really ia fuU evening
dress. The cloak afterwards found in the
river may be accounted for in any way
that suits the reader. The police believed
that tho woman to whom it was given com
mitted suicide, and it is probable that the
body found and identified as that of Mrs.
Brownlow was in reality none other thaa
that of tho woman to whom the cloak had
Mrs. Brownlow, arnving at the railway
atatioa nearest to the point where Mary
Donnelly lived, bud not ventured to take I
carriage. She felt lika concealing her re
treat and bad already become somewhat
startled and ashamed of her course. So she
walked a long and dreary tramp through
the night, and it was not untU early morn
ing that she finally found her way down the
steep and rickety stairs of the cliff to the
house where Mary Donnelly lived. The
strain and exposure consequent to her
flight bad thrown her into a distressing ill
ness, and tho scanty means for providing
against such a calamity in tho house, and
her absence from her husband, tended to
make her recovery all the more slow. Still,
she absolutely forbade her old aervant to
notify Mr. Brownlow or any of her relatives
of her situation. It was her intention, aa
soon as she should recover, to make ner
way back home and explain every thing.
Time had passed, however, day after day,
without substantial progress being made,
and as the people under the cliff never saw
a newspaper and rarely met any body from
the outside world, no news came to them of
Mr. Brownlow's arrest, trial and conviction.
It was when Mary Donnelly bad gone over
to Yonkers one dsy for provisions that sho
heard conversation on the street regarding
the matter, and, making further inquiries,
she learned the whole history of the case.
On the foUowing morning she had setout
to New York with a letter from Mrs. Brown
low to the mayor.
The detectives were soon satisfied that
this was indeed Mrs. Brownlow, and they
set out on their return to New York with
strange feelings of defeat and humiliation,
not altogether unmingled with satisfaction
that an innocent man was not to be made
the victim of their mistakes. The news was
not taken directly to Mr. Brownlow. He
knew nothing of the discovery until his at
torney, Mr. Parker, told him of tho circum
stances. Then, for the first time, the iron
nerved man yielded to the pressure of his
emotions, and tears came freely to his eyes
and his voice was too choked for utterance.
In a few days his wife had recovered suffi
ciently to be removed to the city, and when
the officers of the law had actually seen her
and heard from her own lips the story of
her experience, there was no delay in bring
ing the unfortunate affair to a speedy ter
The district attorney himself moved m
chambers for a new trial, it was granted,
and the foUowing day set for its occurrence.
The prisoner was brought before the bar,
and in a speech in which he fully exoner
ated him from any evU intentions towards
his wife and all suspicions of such, the dis
tnct attorney moved that the case be nolle
pressed. This motion was granted by the
judge, and the prisoner was dismissed.
The meeting between him and his wife
was most affecting, and they resumed their
domestic relations with every augury for
happy relations in the future. Both seemed
to take to heart the severe lesson taught
by tho result of one short moment of anger.
CONNECTICUT BLUE LAWS.
The Xaveatioa of Bwr. Mr. Fetors, Bt
Knowa aa "Lying Peters.
What are the " blue laws? " Newspapers
are full of reference to them, sometimes
with a bit of detaU as to the forbidding of
kissing Sundays, or the Uke. The references
are well understood, for every body knows
that the queer rules referred to belonged to
Connecticut in the old times, and yet not
one man in ten, within or without newspa
per offices, dreams of the truth about the
matter. The fact is that the "blue laws,"
the most famous in their way of any stat
utes in the history of this country, were
purely imaginary. They were given to the
world in a form so very far removed from
probability as to be grotesque; were, of
course, at the time taken for what they
were properly worth, and yet have come to
be believed in much more firmly than many
well-established facts in history by perhaps
the mass of the people, and are in every
body's mouth as a ndiculous outcome of
Yankee Puritanism. It is worth while to
recall just the way in which tho laws came
They were the invention of Rev. Samuel
Peters, best known in his day as "Lying
Peters," and first saw the light in London.
Peters was born in Hebron, Conn., in 1733.
went to England to be educated, and
finally became pastor of a small Episco
palian church in his native town. He had
a good deal of smartness, pushed himself,
and came near being made the first Bishop
of Vermont, but failed in that attempt and
in his Ufe because of his disposition, which
may be described as the converse of that of
the Father of his country. He could not tell
the truth. He lied in conversation and in
all he wrote, generally without purpose, so
far as could be seen, about every conceiv
able thing and in the most extravagant way.
He was a rank Tory, and during the revo
lution the Sons of Liberty drove him away
from Hebron. He went to London in great
dudgeon, and there, in 1781, published "A
General History of Connecticut," which
takes high rank among the curiosities of
literature. In the preface Peters gravely
declares that, "though Connecticut be the
most flourishing, and, proportionately, the
most populous province in North America,
it has hitherto found no writer to introduce
it, in its own right, to the notice of the
world:" and he cocson to give an account
of the colony which would have made !
Munchausen green with envy. The sim
plest geographical facts were distorted in
the wildest way. A great part of the lies
could not possibly have had any motive,
and even ia the parts where it might be
supposed that he was trying to "get even "
with his persecutors, there appears a whim
sical good nature, and sometimes the stories
sound as if the lying had some parpote of
humor in them. Toledo Blade.
"What arc you crying for, Lena!
why are yea ia mourning!"
" Haven't you beard. Miss Pailp? Didn't
you know that Billy was dead I He died so
suddenly, poor little fellow."
"I didn't know there was a William is
your family. This is the first I have heard
ofK. Was it ia the papers?"
"Yes, Miss Philp, there was a column in
the Journal about it. I thought every oae
read it PoorBiUyl"
"What was the matter with him?"
"Well, yoa see, Billy was our Maltese
goat.. We called him Maltese beoamse he
roUedaaAhebhie mud so much that he was
aiwfr f, fhe color ot a Maltese, cat We
call TiimBiUy because that wastes name.
Well BiUy get mad yesterday afteraooa at'
.1 .LU. ..A k. ).r.tl 1 . - -
hhj e .ryuwi ti, eM 'wymwu't fvfoi
JgStiSFX H .,, -r ...
THE FAITHFUL CLOCK.
Although my hands are oa ray face.
And all the time 1 ga tick;
Tract me, aaiae is a wertav ease.
The slow may think I am tee quick.
But fast aad slow at once may see
At any time good works ia me.
Good hours from day to day I keep;
Ifo one dowa early, none np late.
Bas eTer caught me fast asleep.
If I inn down. I lose my weight;
If I should take a aiazle drop
'Twould break me, and my works would
A maa wound up is ta a fix.
But wind me up and I can ge.
Though hard the times. I play no tricks.
And yet it is oa tick I do
The constant work of my two hands'
A task the workman understand.
I sometimes strike, but only hit
The a?;urds who are out too late;
And some of them have little wit.
And skulls so thick that if my weight
Upon their stupid heads should drop.
They would not know what made tbem stop.
George W. Bungay, in Harper's Weekly.
A NOVEL TRIAL.
How a Fonr-Footed Criminal Wan
Brought to Justice.
Some years ago a very novel trial
and execution took place in one of the
rural New England towns. If not
strictly legal, it was yet conducted ac
cording to certain forms of law. The
judge, lawyers and jury wore boys, and
the criminal was a dog.
To term a dog a criminal may seem
to many readers a contradiction ia
terms, or at best a whimsical tue of the
wocd. For, of course, to be a criminal
implies on the part of the accused a
knowledge that the act committed is
wrong, and prohibited under penalty.
The legal use of the term, to be sure,
is not quite so far-reaching, since a
lack of knowledge or information as to
the penalty does not excuse the wrong
doer. But, certainly, to be a criminal
implies the possession and use of
rational powers in a normal condition.
But I shall even attempt to show that
this particular dog was entitled to the
distinction implied in the ordinary use
of the word. At the same time the
reader will do well to look to it that he
is not misled in forming his own
He was a large dog. part Newfound
land, part Mastiff, or Saint Bernard,
or Irish Setter; there is some doubt on
this point. His name was "Brown."
The offense of which he was accused
and found guilty was sheep-killing, nod
he was shown beyond doubt to be an
old offender, no less than twenty cases
of ovicide being laid at his door during
the trial, which was held on a Satur
day afternoon at a small district school
house. Sheep-killing is considered a capital
offense on the part of dogs in rural
communities. It can scarcely bo classed
as murder, for murder is the unpro
voked slaughter of one creature by
another of the same species or variety.
But I believe that the boys who tried
and condemned Brown, charged him
with murder. However, this point does
not greatly signify, since it did not
help Brown's case.
The trial brought out a great many
curious facts, for the two boys who
took the parts of prosecuting attorney
and of counsel for Brown exerted them
selves to their utmost, and there were
not less than twenty witnesses, pro
It was shown that Brown had always
been a, dog of good reputation in the
immediate neighborhood where his
master resided; that he was a general
favorite with every one, that he had
performed a number of meritorious ac
tions, and that he had never been
known to barm so much as a lamb on
his master's premises, or oa those of
his immediate neighbors.
The scene of his crime was the sheep
pasture of a farmer. living three or
four miles distant. That he should
have 6pared all nearer flocks and gone
to this distance from home, to gratify
his hankering for illicit mutton, was
one of the worst features of the case
against him, oa the score of moral de
linquency. For it was argued that he
would never have slipped away by
night to such a distance had he sot
been fully aware that what he did was
wrong and subject to extreme penalty.
Several similar cases were cited to
show that when once dogs become
sheep-killers they wax abnormally fer
tile in tricks to avoid the suspicion of
It was in evidence that, unlike maay
other instances where two or three
dogs band together to kill sheep.
Brown had never been known to take
another dog into his confidence, but
had stolen away from home alone; also,
that having once throttled a sheep in
this distant pasture and made a meaL
he kept away from the place for a long
time afterwards, evidently under the
conviction that this was the safer pro
cedure on his part.
From this piece of caution and good
judgment it had resulted that several
innocent dogs had lost their lives. For
the irate farmer in whose pasture
Brown had chiefly committed his
depredations, had repeatedly set traps
and laid poison in the carcasses of the
slaughtered sheep, which had pur
posely, been left exposed. He counted
on the marauder's return, and hoped
thus to capture him. But Brown had
resolutely kept away from all tempta
tion to indulge in a second meaL but
several innocent .logs, smelling the
quarry from afar, had been lurea ta
In a-number ef cases their sorrow
ing masters had been able to testify
that, on the night when the slaughter
took place, their dogs had been at
home chained up.
Ib the course of six or seven weeks,
when: the excitement and vigilance
.routed by' the former fbrav-kadaiibw
flock another visit. He tbrvttled but
one sheep at a visit, and even in this
particnlar evinced more prudence thaa
manry such peccant canines exhibit.
A great deal of the evidence against
Brown was largely circumstantial, and
although altogether it made a damag
ing mass of testimony, the boy who
acted ns his counsel would probably
have cleared him. but for a single wit
ness which the prosecuting attorney
wns able to produce.
This witness was a boy about four
teen years of asre. who had set a lino
of mink traps along u brook, in a
woody valley between Brown's home
and the pasture where the sheep hud
been killed. The lad suspected another
boy of robbing his traps and very
early one morning had hidden himself
near the brook to lie in wait for the
Unwittingly he became the agent of
Brown's detection, for as he lay con
cealed, he saw a large dog come down
the hillside from the direction of the
sheep pasture and approach the bank
of the brook. It was not so early and
dark but that he could distinguish that
the animal's paws and mouth were
red with what seemed to be blood.
But in a moment, he asserted, the dog
bounded into the brook, and began to
rnn up' and down in the water, sousing
his nose and entire head more thaa
twenty times, and indeed, continuing
in the water for ten or fifteen minutes,
till not a stain was left upon him!
The lad was very sure that the bath
hod not been taken for the pleasure of
the thing, sinco the morning was so
chilly that, as he lay watching, his
teeth chattered from cold.
He identified Brown as the dog which
he had seen at the brook. So positive
had he been that the dog had been
killing sheep, that later in the morn
ing he went up into the pasture, and
found a freshly torn carcass, as he had
Brown's counsel being quite unable
to shake the adverse strength of this
testimony, tho case went to the jury.
The judge charged them that as the
accused had shown himself fully as
shrewd and tricky as a boy could have
been under such circumstances, ha
must be held accountable for bis crime.
and that no plea that he had acted
"merely from iastinct" would be al
lowed in that court. The jury re
turned a verdict of guilty and the
jud ire formally sentenced Brnwatobe
Brown, who had willingly and of his
own accord accompanied the- boys to
the school-house, snowed signs of great
uneasiness, it was- said, before the trial
had progressed far. and would havo
escaped had he-not been held in the
witness-box, tied with a rope.
After the court had adjourned, they
led Brown away to a back pasture, and
hanged him to one of the lower limbs
of a wide-spreading beech-tree at th
edge of a wood-lot.
Two years after, as it chanced. I
taught the winter school at the little
school-house where the trial had tokea
place. Late one autumn afternoon I
was returning homeward across- pas
tures and forest land, with a string of
partridges, when my attention was
rested, suddenly, by what seemed te
a very singular spectacle.
It had grown rather dark the opaque
gray dusk of a cloudy November even
ing was setting in. 1 was just emerging
from a tract of woods, and directly in
front of me was a large beech, the dry
leaves of which, were rustling with a
Beneath those-beech limbs and leaves
stood an object which, in the dim light,
resembled a shadowy skeleton form,
standing as if awaiting my approacb-
I stopped short. I shall not attempt
to describe what a strange and fearful
sensation stole over me, at the- sight
of that thing with its dim. white bones!
As I stood staring. I plainly saw that
it moved, that it turned half around. I
imagined that it started forward as if
to approach me. And
Well. I did not remain there- any
longer to observe its movements. I
moved myself tangentially, sotospeak.
My locomotive powers were- good in
those days, and I arrived at ray board
ing place, shortly afterward much out
I had sufficient sense to. resist my
first strong inclination to teU of what I
had seen to the people of the house.
for it occurred to me. that for tho
school-master to see a ghost was not
quite the proper thing.
Next morning, immediately after
breakfast, I provided myself with a
club, and set off to reconnolter tho
scene of the previous evening's appar
ition. After a cautious approach, I dis
covered that what 1 had seen was tho
whitening skeleton ot a large dog.
hanging by a cord ta a limb of tho
beech tree. Upon subsequent inquiry,
I learned the story of Browa, substaa
tially as 1 have give it. The reader
will not wonder that it made a rather
lasting impressio upon my mind. 5i
A, Stephens, in Youth's Companion.
Tho Decay of "Spanking,."
Among the geod oM customs wbich
are falling into disuse that of spanking
the coming generation into behaving
itself is leading tha procession. There,
are no such spankings now aa) there
used to be in my time, and I am
sorry for it. Things in the spaak lino
are certainly degenerating along with
the drama, the flavor of strawberries
and phenomenal weather, as the years
go by. Children just watering the
heated base-burning epoak to spank
hood bow have 4BervejT' and must be
humored. They get to balking d
skulking, and the family physician is
1 remedy of a war-.n application of slip
1 hier, is all that needed: Chiaago-.la-
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