The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, September 07, 1888, Image 2
I TIIE > ENTRILOQUIST. H | Powa at tfeefejaoasStiKUul tavern , | H Ifce Coalhole , in London , w& were I 3S tkred together one evening laugh- IB ing over the ajuuhiag scenes of ven- | 1k tr2oqukm with which , that clever IffOBied aa Toole had ju tbeea edify- [ iK lagus- \m \ Ajoarsalwi present complimented It' khn soaewhat iroeieally on what he II called hi * "little soeiety talents. " 11 --These ease little talents/ said I Toole ia a grave tone"have soiae- I ximets a great atflity ia life ; do not I < kspse them. An. infinitely small I 4aenfc may save a world of trouble ; I lotting g unproductive here below. I Itttme giveyou asimple illustration : I " * * Some years ago I was passing one I - treeing through Drary lane on my I way to the Gaiety theater , where I I was at that timeplaying a role. I "My attention was suddenly at- I traded by a pathetic voice imploring I. -charity. I stoppedand looked around I * ae. The voice proceeded from a rais- < happen being apparently a cripple , t orosdied ia the comer of an archway | hxuiimg i to oatof those winding [ aaVys &o nmiawroHs in this popular t j e rtr. Hw white hair and beard I umd his cracked yoke indicated clear- It tlttki fcfee feegjsar was an old man. I • * A few peito * for a poor old man , I * * r * * i tike tevHk > et ; voice : * I atu < M amdhimgvT oh , so hungry ! I I * j * * t-afe&trft nothing since yesterday. " j I TW bight of a young man , how- / wr stfeemM * he wight have been , I wo < iW M > tkav > i ove lme. Oldcock- a rs Kk * me are too well posted on alt tktfce bomosrifig schemes which f ottrk4t ia our town , bat this decrepit | oW ag * * a&d horrible delormity tilled I aae with uoiHfUi ioo. ft What Wteeryf I exclaimed , guz- i u < at the old tuna * h > it possible Hi tk roa areeo * IeHiied to begging HI atyowrage ? Have you no sons or H * d agiters ? B | "Aktol ye.g < 4leuia/replied the ; i l " gir > H a satothervd tone , as if K ; a kaaaed to aekaowledge the truth , Hfeatt tkvv have abandoned we/ ' - " It k EbSmbmhssT * Tadded. H- * " * * * i 1 drew trow jay parte a half Hi 'tlHtlL B 'As. 1 IhuhjW k toward thebeggur • : mt ttet i > Hw > ry * * * spiEifts seized me. Hj i'-riwtps a&wr act k wac * a Kiude-ttp -npfA Weats Ka > ae ot the only H. • * - * * • kjMMr lMHrto > * KpgtiWtheia- , HJ r4ilML I 4oa. HI * I pmrfer U > aefrisc ya wore e6ee- urrly / 1 nawtwiunl , aAeraa ieotuat's Hj pa b-- * Y > have a rvfcge some- Hj wfceiv * A ho e ? Wh * tre4you live ! ' H "I s.pecfced r > w to be ealigbtened H ab > t4 > t > he gvavmiuo < * f wybeggar ; the r-iifl tes > t h ? sk Ui > a on his part J wottM htive p4C mmt > a wy guard at HJ oare. Hs " * N0t over a < f Mcter © f a mile J &v JWi . * reefed she cripple. I will take y < & t > ay t dgiag , sir , if you M like. ' H "The aarae tawfcv. wkk which here- m i = f i4ed eueskrred t * we after the ad- H v-rsre wik * tMrer ; a t W tine I hud HJ no stress aMi > a k. B " 'Very weMggwahtiaii ; I wfll g&How/ 1 1 aa wenrd. B "The beggar smarted off oa his K rr rhe > . kaggki after h & two B ? HMafe ) f fc * * widfc h a keil B yrv tartioaL f iwitiwiJn aaui kt jm aaai ferrwac ! * • * . ke Maka- B ' . . -rvj [ rafiy inlmiic tW nHwWy H aad 'fafrfurr jiffc-gdaV. vf Drary k * e. B it • a &Haa4 Laaatoa niator . a . A dart , km * * far kafr Hw Iw iil , . * ncrliw laniaifrimiTil wiirt * mmtfc * Mi y & > w K HM i B IM ft Jniwa , thrijm > l.l I'pg-lHf k > ok ator * McC f MtaMMwant- . B r ' ru K tkJwa vl''pi > ad the : B = 4 m $ f siw > wUii' hiMi > * > n. ' tlt itt-y a 4 cNrtc > thrwagh. whcVrh ' B w - - piAK yl. guMK. yw fcl. iM s gaoed ' T vMrt afwma < H.aaal cue tiMriflat < a 6ea- B w TBkii w Msk ey s > glared oet : B SBto taW atgac H "la i yke aay iuaJKarky wkkthe ; Bdbajrksa efLcMuiMKfif. iVoaMaot B 3vf vsv > alia-3l f ieyui tade. aad I < B 3QM t aay ific w * Jd © t be pleas- < Hi sat % 9 t srf.tfcfc > ryniirter of London. < H | M > the LmmI of ajgat. i K. , Xot J t iJtat we nwfc-s acksowledge 1 B < M9r p aWe ioirce is tuhnirrjWy orgaai- ] B stzLSvc. t a&cimc : tike widespread ] B lafcHrrr aad iegnwia * > a jaLoados , i B it * s aaiy aiTfjiw kag thas erases are < B sot twat r % a es a asaseroes as < B tS evare. B c faa.pke tk * > e&ergy i HJ -of e | 4 s . Wx Maay a khwrk deed 1 [ H xss Wi a. Varied ieeever ia the t HJ vtaaii afoargma * towa ! < B "iHanae ; fikeee wdtWtiaHr ; . Kfide reJ B assarvag a tsky w # e. I gaasd after i H xbt g B W. fe ei fejfcy it wa * > a poor i H S&nL tkaSl ao l&as&r doakted. I t H Tanaa oa ifce yaax ofc u f > ykag kaat and i B r ib u. % : : lata oa kfe > way wick a &w 1 H lifcUp , l. Iwa&akaost aekawetl of * H xbv "agpadoa . 8 t wisfc a &k3l h- { H -d pbtoJIjamrm i 1 ky loag yeacs of ( B ex tviee saw kH gar attwaamni very ( H xafodK. wwmik' ; fcoat tkar to time < H | to busLe sane akiaC I wa Mowksg. i B " It I tag k r waout d Cova bar- B 4aVa MaaebtC mmti Loag Acxe aad ea- < B tfvd tka JM'lir a. < partac wkkek yoa ' M fc * * S < - * r * iSfmA > . Tke ad- ] B Tttataav warn an . lo oaly koig-way i B jiv-mji mr. : 1 B ' 'Ajty'caiHrfcaiaayoaf tooatstitr < ( B 1 * a 4 , * oftdaiag af > * ak Awhwigg ar. < H i k tgai 't aamck akaw to t.paMto. * 1 H Jl * i if obe I j nr oaft aay naaork , ! H , w : - * * * * * HWauatWT of Ifeatt's , ] HM -4i 'Jti ' i aaafcki vaaW Lajlaaig Haai- < H i r af I i.awyai- a * a fer. o wfii i m • vaawa ft iai k ake kifgprs ' H t k.kor I > aaaitoa TMlC tkahtV 1 3 < gksy jmmng y fcr ojk ofci aaoa. * 1 tfwaqyatiau nil imkk ttiafe ; B f.k > - Uax oaVa oar piakry fcnU ' HC o..ntjtae.oar hu > a 'rjaa\3Mi iiat. > Jore- ; B < > % • ajk tke ? > ? * WaJs oaarter i B kaMaV aad. aotof Jmi nKoxaed taW aot- # B Ixipoaa kfc * l.mwgkp a&i ckoaas < B sgyArNl Bpoa aat aW Iroaa. she aak- B & tooa e . aad tke kar-rocs of the < B sc mkofkoodl B -1 & &eraHa&a < to pasa tke ad- : B * " " -rggtaurg'to its ead. sfce aaor > o-as i B s t < oa aaa < o& aow taraed tome ; H aa4 said , at ko > cracked , fiakering ' HJ xoa-T - B " "Keffei * aqrkoa egeBi6fc ear He ' H 4W door i s > i t&coagfc kalfopea < afa * 4gag 3&ted knfliaVwgaad : started i B * marKke&Ts aiinBa e with , the 3gHky i H lhm < i keJoWrefiaarked. I had &M- ' H yaaS wiagkiatiRtkenasseafc- i j ofeoarkfir Tkei art ta othw i < * cit soaad ios the step * and i B J I1 * err 4 * yg HbHL * BM MCjaa a MlaWa BaMPa1 * ' " " 1111 * * ' ' ' l'M1liaEfc"1l ! * ' . < l wirT nWB " " " h hV * 3 " M i < n 'K "At the third story the old beggar stopped ; I hoard him feeling about in the durk , then came the sound of a key turning in a lock. " 'One moment , my good gentle- munsaid the trembling voice ; 'I will light a candle. ' "Some seconds passed ; then the dismal glimmer of a tallow candle lit up a room which struck me as toler ably spacious. The beggar hud slipped behind me , and now I heard the sharp click of the key in the lock. "I had expected to find a sordid , miserable hole , fitted out with a broken stool , and a bundle of straw in the corner for a bed ; instead of which the room was furnished with a certain degree of luxury , and the floor was covered with a rich carpet. * ktWhat does this mean ? ' I asked in stupor. 'You have deceived me ! ' "I turned toward the door. The old man had vanished ; a man in the vigor of life , a white wig in his hand , his face covered with penciled 'wrink les , looked up at me and laughed. * - lYou look surprised , ' he said , in a mocking tone. "There are mira cles still in our days , you see. My good legs have come back to me , and my crutches look there ! ' "lie pointed toward the corner near the door. " 'Well , what do you want of me ? ' I ) iked resolutely enough. " 'I want you to lend me your watchimpudently asked the man. Mine happens tc be at the jeweler's ju. > t now , andyours looks like atoler- ably good one. I'll warrant it keeps good time. " "After all it was but one man , and a struggle man to man demands but an ordinary courage. "But my pseudo gray beard drew a revolver from his pocket. " ' .Xo , ' said he , holding the muzzle to rav face , 'the watch and the purse first. ' * * I drew back. Indignation and anger at letting myself into such an absurb trap al most suffocated me ; but what could I do against this man armed ? "All at once an idea occurred to me. " 'Imp of Satan ! I'll catch you yet ! " called out a gruff voice from behind the beggar. "Instinctively he turned around. I soized the opportunity to rush up on him and snatch the revolver from his hands. * * * My turn now , " said I , holding the revolver under his nose. 'Open that door this instant or I will blow out your brains ! ' "The robber looked at me with a stupid air. He was a resolute fellow without a doubt ; but the revolver and the mysterious voice together were too much for him. Growling savagely , like a bull-dog , he opened the door and slammed it violently after me. " • Feeling my way along , I found the stair-case , and with some diffi culty gained the street. I directed my steps at once toward the Strand. I arrived a half-hour late at mthe ater , where reigned the greatest in quietude at my non-appearance. I kept the revolver as a 'tribute of war. ' "And you see , " concluded Toole ' , "how my 'little talent' of ven triloquism that night helped nic out of < an ugly scrape. " London Mail. About IJeii > o > es. A very common error is the belief tkat a red nose or chin , and pimples or "blossoms" about that part of the face , are the result of hard drink- hag , and are always indicative of tkat vice. "With many persons this is tke case. The acceleration of the aoveaient ot the heart , the rapid heking of the body and the slow weakening of the blood , three of the cktef results of the use of alcohol up on the system , too often find expres sion in the unsightly symptoms mentioned , as well as others more serious. These symptoms , says the Anah'st , often arise from other and very different causes. In some instances exposure to the sunlight will produce results hardly distinguishable from those of alcoholic indulgence , and more especially with those with im pure blood , or whose habits have not been marked by the regularity lieniaaded by health. Tight lacing or even the mere wearing of stays , no matter how loosely these may fit , or iow soft and flexible the material koto which they are made , frequently xercise the same effect in every re- sjanL Many a temperate woman aad abstinent maid has acquired the reputation of being a hard drinker Eroaa theappearance of her face , when , is a matter of fact , her only fault has been the desire to look attractive and its foolish expression in the com pression of her waist and abdomen. Likittouy is another common cause * f a ret * nose and cutaneous disorders af the face. And in this regard dattony.does not mean the eating if kirgequantitiesof food , but merely f aot - than the system requires. To aad a half pounds of nutriment per dSemmay be gluttony for a young naa or young woman who takes kttle or no exercise , and passes the iayrealing light literature , or idly eoaversiog , where five pounds.would he abstemiousness to a young col- ifegkut playing ball and rowing twelve koacv © at of the twenty-four. Many W t5es. and more particularly the • IkHioBS of the erysipelas class , tend to exp ss themselves in and upon tke ao&e aad fare , not only in all their forats aad stages , but even after they kave b < H a aoraiaally cured , leave or MQfirmt a tendency upon the system to tke same ansightly and disgusting syst © i3. However serious or deep- seated the cause , it is always possibly aad ess ? to cure and prevent the efcets. Whether the original source of the trouble lies in constitutional diseases , depraved condition of the system , hard drinking , overeating , sanborn or tight lacing , it cannot produce-the blemishes described until after the blood has been surcharged with humors and the vital organs have become weakened in tone and • activity. These are in every instance the immediate cause of the trouble. If they be stopped before they reach their fuHdeveIopment.no skin disease will break out. If they be properly treated after that point , the disease soon disappears and the sufferer speedily regains his beauty and healthl A < g J , v'ffa""ff" ' "J7&jituitiM"iT i lila iiilaitfafi " ' " ' ' ' ' ' " " ' The Last Ten Thousand. i ait i. On a wet gloom } ' afternoon in the April of 187-Mr. Jnmes Heath sat in a house in Adam-street , Strand , and in the curiously-furnished apart ments which ho called his office. The very dirty window curtains of the room were of the richest silk. The costly Turkey carpet was covered with dust and littered with bundles of old law papers and newspapers , besides letters-and other documents , which , having been torn up , had evi dently lain on the floor untouched for weeks or months. On the walls of the room were hung a number of valuable oil paintings , water colors , and engravings. Madonnas and Holy Families of the early Spanish and Italian schools , pets of the balletand the prize ring , Dutch boors , land scapes , portraits and racing scenes- mingled as they were without the least regard to style or subject , the general effect was altogether novel and surprising. About the chamber were a number of chairs and couches , mostly of antique patterns , but all of them made of the most costl3r ma terials , and covered , like the carpet , with dust. In the corners of the room were piles of well-bound vol umes , and two massive sideboards one of oak , the other of ebony were piled with miscellaneous heaps of books , glasses , and silver plate. Ev erything about the chamber , in short , was dirty , costly , and incongruous. Finally , muffled up in a thick over coat , and with his back to the fire place , in which there was no fire , sat Mr. Heath. He was a rather stout man of about sixty , with keen , gray eyes white hair , and a very rubicund complexion. On the table before him stood among a number of paper a bottle of braudy and a tumbler , and he was engaged in reading a long letter , which , was written in a rather fcpruwling , boyish hand. "Dear Sir , " the letter ran , "I must have 500 by Monday , and I want at least ; " 500 besides. This , with what I owe you at present , will make 4,000. I propose , in consider ation of that 1,000 which I now ask A'ou to advance , to assign to you the wholeofmy lifeinterestin the lo,000 3 pei cent , consols , together with the whole interest under the policy of assurance for the 3,000. The premiums on the policy amounts to iJ00 per aunum , so that the 450 odd which accrues from the consols will leave a balance of about 250 per cent , interest on the 4,000 until the policy falls in. In other words , for 4,000 you get an absolute rever- sion in 10,000 , together with 250 a year until the reversion is realized. I am aware that I could do better than this , but I wfint the money at once and I am ready to submit to the sacrifice for immediate payment. I shall call on you to-morrow after noon at 4 o ' clock , when I hope you will let me have a check. Yours , : faithfully. Robert Oswald. " i Mr. Ilea tit read the letter very carefully through two or three times , ] after which he laid it on the table and - leaned back in his chair , while he in- dulged in a soliloquy which he mut tered half aloud. ' "Yes , " hesaid , "theterms are good ' enough. The young fool in in con- . sumption already , though he's bare- - ly twenty-three , and this season will ] kill him. Chapman says his right ' lung is nearly gone lucky I got him ] to insure for the big sum at once. . Wants the money , I suppose , to meet his losses on the City and Suburban. What's he going to do , I wonder , ] when he has parted with his interest ] in the 15,000 ? Fall back on his mother , I suppose. She's supposed * to be wealthy , but her money is all in American stocks , they say , and if ' report is true she knows how to keep * it. The widow of a Scotchman. f who made a fortune in America , they came back to England about five years since to get into society and 1 put young hopeful through Oxford. The father died three years ago , and the mother has been leading a rath er retired life since , so they say. But , * nonsense , what has all this to do with me ? Young Mr. Oswald , who has got himself into consumption E through dissipation , is practically > offering me 10,000 for a further ad- ' vance of 1,000. Even if I had to ] wait a few years it's good enough. But he hasn 't twelve months' life in him. Three months more , at the J rate he is going at present , ought to ] finish him. And then ? " Mr. Heath continued almost 1 aloud , and in an excited manner : "Then I have made the 100,000 * which it has been the ambition of my life to be worth. This is the last ten | thousand. With this I shall be worth | almost exactly one hundred and two * thousand pounds in hardcash , be sides the good-will of this cursed business , and all the things , which I [ shall dispose of at once , Why , I \ ought to have nearly one hundred ] and ten thousand pounds ; but never x mind , once I have a hundred thouJ J sand pounds in hard cash. I shall j give up. To that I have made up * my mind. And then ? Well , I shall - < go on the Continent for a time. I'd be pretty well forgotten in the course 1 of two orthree years , and my name i is not in particularly good odor just s now hasn 't been for years past. Never mind that when a man has a four or five thousand a year , people 1 are not too particular about his anc tecedents. 1 may take a place a lit1 tie way out of London be a sort of .1 county magnate for a bit and work 1 my way into a decent club. Let them say what they like l > ehind my back , they'd be bound 1 to be civil to my face , and that's all that any one need care. Half the i peers in England would go crazy if 1 they only knew what their servants 1 were saying about them. Fools , 1 we're all , more or less , tarred with I the same brush , thinking vermin as 1 we are , if this new theory of evolution \ or what ever it's called be truo. No , if I once get foot into a good club , t they could uot get out of it again , if t I only can afford to act respectably , c xaqBaajjajrtiaMaari na i am * ! * * * * * * * * * BmimnxMsxaMKminBwmm Lot them whisper.wlmfc thoy like be hind my back , all that I have to deal with is what is said or done .before my face , and the hounds would bo silent , for they can prove nothing. If the brutes have to lick me , what do I care if they would like to bite. 'Heavens , what a contemptible thing is human nature'thegreat ! Napoleon used to say when he was a young man starving in Paris. Contempti ble is not the word. Worthless in different unworthy of even contempt poor wretched puppets. You band together , and club your wretched sel fishness into what you call respecta bility. Bespect ? Why , you will have more real respect for me , who'll force my way , and walk alone amongyou , then you have for the sleekest crea ture of your back. Yes , 'Lions walk alone , jackals heldtogether , ' as Pitt used to say , and one can play the Pitt of the Napoleon in privateas well as in public life , if need be. Yes , I have only to wait now till Mr. Os wald smashes up the little that's left of his constitution. Not many months at the furthest. Strange that the last 10,000 should come alto gether in this way ; I might have been three or four years getting it togeth er. Perhaps longer. Who can tell ? We make more bad debts than peo ple think , and , like the snail crawl ing up the post , I might , now and then , have slipped down at night twice as far as i had crawled during the daj\ "But here the whole thing is done. The last ten thousand made , " as the saying is , by a stroke of my pen. And yet , it's curious how I have had a suspicion from the first moment I set eyes upon this brat that he'd be at once my making and my ruin. Tush ! such nonsense ; the thing is perfectly legal , and the money is perfectly safe. Even if I lost it , I'd be very fnrlrom ruined ; but it is quite safe. So , Mr. Oswald , you shall have your thousand pounds , more especi ally as you are pretty certain to kill yourself with it. Still I have a strange liking for the. lad. He has good qualities with all his folly ; But oh , humbug ! what have I to do with these feelings ? If I had any one to leave my money to a child of my own to inherit my wealth I might wish to leave it a little cleaner than it is. Yes , it's hard to think that the riches for which I have toiled will go to people whocursemy name If I don't leave them to the nation , or turn them into cash and fling it into the sea before I die. Come in ! " The last two words were in answer to a knock at the door. "Mr. Oswald , Sir , " said a boy who acted asasortofaclerkto Mr. Heath. "Show him in , " said the latter as he resumed his seat at the table. A tall , handsome , but very delicate young man entered the room. "Well , young Sir , what can I do for you ? " said Heath in agruffvoice , which was intended to be pleasing and j assuring. One of Mr. Heath's peculiarities was that he seemed to take a delight in : making his clients state their busi ness : as often as possible , however well he might be acquainted with it. "You can offer me a chair if you wantto be civil , and a glass of bran dy ' if you ' re inclined to oe friendly , " replied Oswald in a languid familiar manner , which just bordered on be ing contemptuous. . "Oh , please be seated , my dear Sir , if you insist on ceremony , " said Heath , pushing a bottle and a glass toward ; his visitor as he spoke. "And how. beside offering you a chair and a little brandy , what else can I do for you ? " "Well , confound it ! you know what I have come about. You have had my letter. What's the use of asking such a question ? " was the impatient rejoinder. "Yes. I have had your letter , but I don't like the business. I tell 3rou frankly , I don't like to see a young man ruining himself as you are do ing " "Oh , curse it all ! I have not come here to be lectured , " interrupted Os- waldangrily. "Will you do the thing or not ? This is Thursday. I must have the money by Saturday night. " "I would have to give notice to the Trustees of this fresh charge , and there is barely time to get the thing bhrough. I would rather you took the matter somewhere else/'replied Efeath , dubiously. "But that is impossible , and I must meet my engagements on Monday , " was the answer. The result of some further conver sation was that Mr. Heath , with a reat show of reluctance , suffered liimself to be persuaded to have every thing ready to make this further and final advance an Saturday. "You will have twenty pounds in jold , eight ten-pound notes , and the remaining nine hundred pounds short , ' " said Oswald as he was leav ing the room. "Yes , I hope you will take care of it , " replied Heath. "I shall win twenty thousand over bhe Guineas. Good evening. " was bhe answer , and Mr. Oswald took liis departure. On Saturday Oswald duly received bhe 1,000 after he had executed a Seed , by which he assigned the pol icy of assurance and his life interest in the 15,000 consols to Mr. Heath. According to the will of the late Air. Dswald , the 15,000 was , if Ilobert Oswald died without issue , to be paid bo a distant relative who lived in Am erica. Mrs. Oswald. I may add , derived tier income from certain investments in American railway stocks. She was supposed to be very well off , but it ivas a curious thing that , though she ivent a good deal into society , no body seemed to know much about jither her or Iter late husband. They liad come from America about five years beforeanci , taken a house in Porches ef Terrace Bayswater. The late Mr. Oswald brought very jatisfactory references from Chicago , ept a very good balance at his bank , md entertained , as did Mrs. Oswald , n a very hospitable manner. This , lowever , was really all that was inown about them. As to their son , Robert , he had unluckily taken to jetting , and got into the clutches of Mr. Heath , with what result , so far , ive have seen above. It is notnecessaryto say more than iliat Robert Oswald lost his money , md brought'himself to his death-bed luring the next two months. As F SnfS F i * ffc tfrwSt " ' ? ifi iB " ! r * ilaiHaTI1l , Mr. Heathknew , he was in consump tion when he sold his annuity , and the effect of his losses and constant dissipation precipitaled the collapse of his system. "Whensorrows come , they come not single spies but in I I battalions. " On the morning after the race for the "Two Thousand Guin eas , " when Robert was left utterly penniless , and in debt to a number of bookmakers , Mrs. Oswald received a letter from her stock broker , saying that he would like to see henathor earliest convenience. Accordingly bhe went at once to the City , where she learned that the two American railways in which nearly all her money was invested had ceased to pay divid- ens. That , in short , the shares were almost unsalable , as it was highly probable that the concerns would be sole under foreclosure of mortgages. Mrs. Oswald did all she could under the circumstances. She gave up her house in Porchester Terrace and took lodgings in St. Paul's road , Camden Town , where she devoted herself to the task of nursing her son , who was now fast sinking in consumption. PART II. In the second week of the following June , Mr. Heath , who had a small house in Notting Hill , was sitting in his parlor at a little after 8 o'clock in the evening , Avhen a servant came in to say that a Mr. Bailey wished to see him. "Show him in at once , " said Heath , who rose from his seat and went to the door to meet him. "Well , " said Heath , in his usual gruff way , when he had closed the door , which he did very carefully as if he were afraid that some one might be listening outside. "Mr. Oswald's dead , Sir. Died at 5 o'clock this evening. I only heard of it within the last hour , and I came on at once to tell you. " For a moment there was silence , during which the little man stood twirling his hat in his hands. At last Heath said , "Are you quite certain of this ? " "Quite certain , Sir , " was the an swer. "I have it from the servant in the house. I had been expecting the the news all day , and directly Mrs. Wilmot told me I thought I'd make assurance doubly sure by seeing the servant myself. As I told you , I knew herbefore she went to live in St. Paul's road. I told you how I heard from Mrs. Wilmot everything that went on in the house. " "Well , well , that will do. Here is a sovereign for your trouble in coming here. Look into my office next week and I shall pay you Avhat we have arranged , when I have the formal proofs of his death , Cood-night. " "Good-night , Sir , thank you. ' " said Bailey , as he left the room. Bailey was a nondescript character who was occasionally employed by Heath , sometimes as a broker , some times as a private detective. In the present instance , by virtue of his hav ing some relatives living in St. Paul's road , he had been engaged to bring Mr. Heath the earliest intelligence of Robert Oswald's death. When he had gone Heath walked up and down the room for some minutes in silence. At length he muttered to liimself : "One hundred and two thousand pounds in hard cash , made at last ! I shall sell everything I own within a fortnight's time furniture , bills , pic tures , all. They will fetch another six thousand ; but , whatever they bring , they shall be sold at onoo. I am determined to enjoy my wealth while I have time , and to do that I must cut the life I have been leading at once. Yes , my 'pile' is made. I have at last what .years ago I said I would make , and I shall be out of England this day fortnight. What may 1 not do yet , with over a hun dred thousand pounds and the brains and knowledge which I possess ! Good heavens , how suddenly the last tenthousand has come ! What a lucky chance it was that threw the young fool into my clutches ! I man aged him properly , there's no doubt. But yet it was a lucky chance that brought him to me. Still it's strange the presentiment I have always had about him. Oh , bother such non sense ! what have I to do with pre sentiments ? I shall be believing in ghosts and hobgoblins next ! Yet I seem to be sorry instead of glad , and there is that fear of some impending evil which I seemed to have every time I saw him. What on earth can this be ? " The la&t question was caused by a. sharp knock and ring at the hail door. In a few seconds the servant came in with a telegram. Mr. neath looked at the envolope nervously 1 > p- fore he opened it. At last he took out the telegram , which he read two or three times over , us if he doubted the evidence of his eyesight. Then he put the telegram in his pocket , whispering to himself in a trembling voice as he did so "What can it be ? What can it be ? " The telegram which evidently caused him so much uneasiness was as follows : "Mrs. Oswald , To James Heath , Esq. , St. Paul's Road. Stanhope Terrace , Camden Town , Notting Hill. "It is of great importance that I should see you to-night. Robert Os wald died at five o ' clock this evening. Please come here at once on receiv- \ ing this telegram. " "Could it be some conspiracy to get me into the house and murder me ? " thought Mr. Heath , as he < walked about tho room , with the telegram in his pocket. "Oh. non- : sense ! 1 need not be afraid of that. They are very respectable people in j the house. No , depend upon it , it is < cither that the mother wants to beu ; ; or borrow from me : or that there is ; some screw loose about the policy of assurance. Curse it ! Like my usual i luck. But I had better be off there ; at once. What a curious authorita- i tive way .she telegraphs in , though. " i He left the house , and , hailing the ' first hansom he met , was driven rap idly to St. Paul's road. A servant i opened the hall door before he could knock , and having asked if he was ' . Mr. Heath , conducted him up stairs i to the drawing room. Though it was just 9:30 o ' clock , and getting rather dark , no lamp or candle was lighted in the room , and as Mr. Heath entered he could just discern : through the deep twilight the figure of a tall woman who was sitting by one of the windows dressed in black. She rose as he entered and asked him to take the chair which was a fev yurds from where she was sitting. From the position in which she sat , and the darkness of tha room , Mr. Heath could not discern her features very clearly , and to tell the truth ho felt exceed ingly uncomfortable. He was pretty well case-hardened of course ; few men had more curious experiences , and some of the scenes ho had witnessed in the pursuit of his vocation were not a little appalling. But just as one of tho first things tfmt is taught to every medical student is that he must disregard the pain which he has to inflipt on his patients , so , from the very outset of Ins career , Mr. Heath had trained himself to be perfectly callous about the feelings and inter ests of the people with whom he was brought in contact. Still , all the teaching in the world cannot make a surgeon insensible to pain , which is inflicted on himself , and it was just because he was apprehensive that some calamity was aboutto fall upon him that Mr. Heath felt on the pres ent occasion a sense of fear which al most amounted to terror. "You have been prompt in respond ing to my telegram , " said the lady in a hard , defiant voice. "My son , as I told you , is dead. You have stripped him of his little property. He died a pauper. You make 10 , - 000 by his death. I have lately lost nearly all that 1 was worth. I have spent pretty nearly the rest in nursing him through his hist illness. I want twenty pounds in ready money to pay his funeral expenses. You are the proper person to give it to me. Do you refuse ? " I dare say that Mr. Heath would gladly have paid twenty pounds , or more , for the relief he experienced when he heard this speech. So it was only a begging appeal after all. "Thank heavens ! " he muttered to himself , and for the first timesince he heard of Robert Oswald's death ho felt really easy in his mind. "My good madam , " hesaid , in his usual tone of gruff determination , "your son sought me voluntarily He had ample value for what he sold me. I have nothing more to say on the matter , and I must wish you good night. " "But I have something more to say to you , " said the lady , who rose from her chair at the same time that ho did. "Had you given me the twenty pounds I would have been content to let you go in peace. Asit is 3-011 must hear why you are the proper person to pay for the funeral of my son. Come here ; I have something to tell you which you will remember to the last day of your life. See " j She threw open the folding doors that separated the drawing room from a bedroom which was brilliantly lighted with candles. On a bed lay thebody of Robert Oswald. His , mother wentround and stood at the - far side of the bed , facing Heath , ; who advanced a little way into the 1 Inner room as if he were drawn by a spell. "Now , Sir , " sheexclaimed , "do you recognize me ? " 1 "I can't say I do , madam , " said . Heath , whose eyes were fixed on the i face of the corpse , and who hardly . , looked at her. " make differ- , "Twenty-two years a - - mce , no doubt , " she said as she re moved a scarf which was tied around her head , and let her long auburn , hair fall .about her shoulders. "Now Philip Arnott , look at me again and * ! ee if you recognize the face of the * wife whom you forced to leave you. t Look on that bed and see if a on ree- j' ognize your own features in the face r of your dead son. " * "My son ! " exclaimed Heath or j . Arnott , as he really was. "Yes , " said his wife , "it is not many days since , X y an accident , 1 found out that you , whom I knew to j have ruined him and from whom I tried to save him , were also his , father. When you forced me to fly from you twenty-two years ago I ' found a protector for myself and , child. We went to America , where we lived for yea re as man and wife. - In an evil hour we came back to England. God or fate brought your . ; son and you together the little . ; darling child whom you used to nurse on your lap the little child * J who used to pull your whiskers and 1 throw his arms around your neck. , You loved him , though you did not love me ; but , oh , see there is the re- * suit ! " g For a moment Arnott , who was j deadly pale , looked in her face , and . uttered one word , "Alice. " Then he , looked at the corpse again , and said mechanically , as his eyes were riveted T on it. "Bob" j "Yes , Bob and Alice , " cried his wife. "You recognize us now ; but what is the matter ? " Phillip Arnott was swaying from j side to side. Suddenly he fell sense less on the floor. It was many hours before he returned to consciousness , s but when he did so he was in a state of V idiocy , in which condition he remaina ed until he died , about three months a afterward. As he had made no will his property was divided under the Statute of Distributions. I have only d to add that Alice Arnott succeeded , ( as his widow , to her share of the ) > property , and returned to America v. ' shortly after his death. Belgravia. n ' He Lost His Coffin. n Down at Albuquerque there was s one special consumptive who , being e ; that , felt that somehow no other cona sumptive should be permitted in the o place. He was a character noted for h going on frequent "benders" until he b came very near to having tiie jimt ; jams and then sobering up. He had d a kind of privilege in the town and 1 became jealous of it. One day ana other consumptive put in an appeard mice , much to the prior resident's tl disgust. They met. The old resio dent eyed the new coiner all owr. n Then he said : b "Say , you ' ve come here to die , I g s ' pose. Well , there ain 't much life bea tween us. I'll tell you what I'll do. n I'll go across the way and shake the a diceWith vou for a coffin. " a "Goes ! " said the other. o The old resident lostthe shake , and b he went off at once on a terrific jamii i beree and died. The new comer was tl so mad he went raving about the a place. • ° "He did it to get out of paying for g that coffin. That's the meanest trick a I ever had done to me. " San Fran- f < cisco Chronicle. a • - "gg M ss HHHHHjflHHHjl * * I f 1 * \r % ? Before tho Erilortfatchefr.r i Probably thero arc few children of j tho present day who have seen or who , • have ever heard of tho old-fashioned j tinder box and matches. Yet fifty ; - . years ago tho friction match , now so * 1 universally used , had but just been ; i invented , and did not come into gen- . ' : ernl use for many years. Before the C j year 1836 , or thereabouts , house keepers were obliged to use matches of domestic manufacture. Theso , were pieces of small white pine wood , perhaps twice tho size of our match , • * tlie ends of which had been dipped in brimstone. A small iron skillet in | which to melt the brimstone was a 1 common kitchen utensil in many fam ilies in New England , if not elsewhoro. } The only way to light one of these brimstono matches was to bring it in contact with a spark of fire. For ' this purpose there used to be kept in 4 every house a small tin box filled with | burnt rags and this was called a tin- j der box. In ordei to obtain a light J a common gun flint u a struck with considerable force against a piece o - ( steel made of convenient size , which produced a few sparks ; these , lodging upon the burnt rags , made sufficient fire to enable one to readily light the t match. These smouldering rags for the f sparks thus obtained did uot produce ablaze were afterwards extinguished by around tin covercallcd a damper. To thus create fire required some experience , especially in damp weather , or with cold fingers on a winter mornings. We have known people to make "a bad piece of work" i with the flint and steel , and to succeed v ! only with great patience in "striking a light. " If one happened to bo cross or nervous the chances were that he could not succeed at all ; nor was it an infrequent sight to see the good wife of the house running across the 3 street with a shovel to borrow a i shovelful of "live coals" from a , ! neighbor , the chimne } ' smoke of whoso I dwelling proclaimed that she had a fire. The change to the match of st commerce { was one of the f iret of what I - wenowconsidermodern conveniences. V In many families it was one of the ' _ ' ; "children's chores" to prepare wood . for matches and to dip the ends in y melted ; brimstone. These matches V \ were , sometimes to bo bought in shops , < & but New England economy more fre- ] J quently led each family to prepare f its own. Still it was not uncommon r * for poor children to make a trifle of money by selling matches to their * " / more fortunate neighbors. In / sparsely settled neighborhoods great V care was exercised at night by the < & \ head of the house to "keep the lire. " V * He , took precautionthatthere should ) ' be a good bed of "live coals" at the ' ' hour of re retiring ; these he covered with many shovelfuls of ashes to pre- j vent them from burning out. The < C , next morning the coals were usually { , found to be "live" onrakingopen the A\ \ fishes and served to start the day's % \ fire. It was not an impossible fent to ' thus preserve the family fire through I the year , without recourse to tinder j | box and matches. { The modern friction match was i ivolcomed by most housekeepers , al- ( Lhouirh here and there some old peo- ' . 1 pie objected to it , considering it a | langerous article , as no doubt it is \ ' Evhon carelessly used or lelt lying _ / ' ibout. The lirst friction match in- * j rented required to be drawn across * * 3t 1 piece of tine sandpaper in order to - • ; produce : a light. This was called a ' . . 1 .ucifer. and was much safer , although \ \ lot so convenient , as the present /I natch. Then came the present pat- < > mt friction matches , which used to t ! je called "loco-focos. " There were 1 10 fancv match boxes in "old times , " • 1 md the tinder box was not con- • | ; idered an ornamental article , but s ' < vas kept out of sight in the cup- * ; joard or on the kitchen mantelpiece. > t\ \ We find in a Salem newspaper of ' / rune 20,183G , the following : "Not- * vithstanding the convenience of / • hese dangerous little articles , fric- * • ion matches , which are in almost everybody " s hands , but which vith all charms bid fair to prove a • { ' leavy curse to the community , we W earn that there is one man in Salem , ' j 1 respectable tradesman who keeps * 1 > 1 store , where we should generally * , sxpect to find such things , but who ) J las never sold themnor allowed j j ihem to be used on his premises. At j. ' lis house and shop he sticks to the & , ) ld-fashioned flint , steel and tinder. | To shows his wisdom bv so doing , low manv more can say as much' ' " J _ _ - ( Encounter "With an Alligator , 1 \ 'rom the Gainesville ( Fla. ) Advocate. 1 , L. AY . Jackson lost someenttle and itarted out to hunt them , accom- > anied by his dog. In hunting M | iround they came across an immense - - • . t ' dhgator , but as his ' gatorship was \ ngaged in watching some calves , he | lid notice Mr. Jackson and his party \ \ behavingbeen joined b\two friend.- . ) j'J ' Ir. Jackson ' s dog not being very ' : * .ell up in the " gator business , com- \ tienced the attack at once. As soon r is his 'gatorship could change his ( l riind from eolves to dog he made a * . , weep with his tail that brought the t' > anine around to his business end. * 1 md before the dog had time to think „ ' j if his past , made a snap that would { { ' lave ended his career then and there , t\ ' ut the ' gator miscalculated his dis'j \ anee. and instead of taking the whole p • log , tail and all , he got his tail only. § | . 'he dog being thus freed , started on y , home-run : but the ' gator wanted J' log if he could not get calf , and J herefore started after him , rolling tf ver and over. This method of loco- III lotion was so unusual that the dog jl' lecame distrusted , and made such Vi ood time that the " gator gave it up , 1 j ] nd turned his attention to his hu- j rjj ian enemies. They in their turn * . | 'r ' ? nned themselves with fence rails. I ' • nd then the fight was fasc and fur- * * ' ' ' " ius. The'gator would take the rails ' ( I ietween his teeth and crunch them as I j he enjoyed them as a diet. To vary he exercises he wouid snatch a rail , { nd sweep it round over that section if the country , making his assailants * ive him plenty of room. Finally , vl fter a terrible struggle , he was j orced to go where all 'gators go , md hunt calves and dogs no mere. if ill