The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 11, 1898, Page 24

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL UNDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1898 Copyright, 158, by A. Quiller Couch. DARE say you've never heard tell of my wife’s grandfather, Captain John Tackabird—or Cap'n Jacka, as he was always called. He was a remarkable man altogether, and he died of a seizure in the Waterloo year; an earnest Methody all his days, and toward the end a highly respected class leader. To tell you the truth, he wasn’t much to look at, being bald as a coot and blind of one eye, besides other defects. His mother let him run too soon, and that made his legs bandy. And then a b stung him, and all his hair came off. And his eye he lost in a little job tive men; but his lid drooped so you'd hardly know ’twas ng. He'd a way, too, of talking to himself as he went along, so that reckoned him silly. It was queer how that maggot stuck in their for in handling a privateer or a Guernsey cargo—sink the crop or in it stralght—there wasn't his master in Polperro. The very children could tell '¢ the preven: of the vear 'five, when the mi of the business in Polperro— d privateering—was managed, as the world knows, by Mr. aniah Job. This Job, he came from St. Ann’s—by reason of his hav- ing shied some person’s child out of a window in a fit of temper—and d school at Polperro, where he taught rule of three and mensuration; tion, though he only knew about it on paper. By and by he countant to all the free-trade companles and agent for the merchants; and at last blossomed out and opened a bank with . on which he drew on Christopher Smith, In those gold wi scarce that the Jews were for 27 shillings apiece, coilecting them, folks said, for the send to the armies. You wouldn't see a gold piece in Pol- Ive months. agent for a company of adventurers called the and had ordered a new lugger to be built for them She was called the Unity, 160 tons (that would be :asure now), mounting sixteen carriage guns and carry and comfortable. She was Iving on the wa read Mr. Job proposed to Cap'n Jacka to sall over to Mevagis- look at her. ka was pl 1 as Punch, of course. He'd quite made up his S to comms: her, seeing that, first and last, in the old Pride r, he had cleared over 40 per cent for this very company. So they led over and took thorough stoek of the new craft, and Jacka praised suggested t ed on quite as if he’d got a captain’s o vas where he usually carried them. Mr. Job his nose—he was leggy old galliganter with sil- jawbone long enough to make Cap'n Jacka a new and said he ‘““What do’ee think of her?” said Jacka, “‘any fool can see she'll run, and any fool can see ch. 1 reckon she'll come about as fast as the old Pride, and if sit nigher the wind than the new revenue cutter it'll be your ault. first class repor you the post of mate in her.” Cap'n Jacka felt poorly all of a sudden. “Aw skipper, sald Mr. Job. *I was thinking of offering he asked, “‘who's to be any was thinking of young Dick Hewitt.” said Cap'n Jacka again, and shut his mouth tight. Young Dick father had shares in the company and money to buy votes be- »d Mr. Job, still slanting his eye down his nose. an’ take my s opinion sald Cap'n Jacka. ot home he told it all to his funny little wife that he doted jle of his one eve. She was u small, round body, with hat made her look like a doll on a penwiper; and she said, of that the company was a parcel of rogues and fools together, sung Dick Hewitt is every bit so good & seaman as I be,” said Cap'n “I'll go hom So when he like 1y ¢ »'s a boaster.” 0 he is, but he's a smart seaman for al “I declare If the world was to come to an end you'd sit quiet an’ never a we I dessay I should. I'd leave you to speak up for me.” “Baint'ee goin’ to say nothin h 54 1 going to lay it before the Lord.” pon their knees those old souls went upon the limeash, and nd Cap'n a fter a while, stretched out his hand ey’s hym 8 s pitched a hymn together When h k in his hand he saw that y at all, but another that he never studied from the day his gave it to him, because it was called the “Only Hymn Book," and sald the name was as good as a lle. Hows'ever, he opened it now, and e slap on the hymn:* “Tho’ troubles assail and dangers affright, 1f friends all should fail and foes all unite, Yet one thing assures us, whatever betide, 1 trust in all dangers the Lord will provide.” ang it there and then to the tune of “O All That Pass By,” and the very next morning C: acka walked down and told Mr. Job he was ready to go for mate under voung Dick Hewitt. More than once, the next week or two, he came near to repenting; for Cap'n Dick was very loud about his promotion, especlally at the Thres Pilchards; and when the Unity came round and was fitting—very slow, too by reason of delay with her letters of marque—he ordered Cap'n Jacka back and forth like a stevedore's dog. “‘There was to be no ‘nigh enough' on this lugger’—t the sort of talk;.and oil and rotten-stone for the very gunswive ut Jacka knew the fellow, and even admired the great figure N e's ap’'n, anyhow,” he told his wife: “rtwon’'t be in command. And I've seen him hanc Mrs. all’ w der Hockin. 2. She was busy making sausages ang set- Good Intent ird said nothir ting down a stug of butter for her man’s use on the voyage. But he knew she would be a disappointed woman if he didn’'t contrive in some honest way to turn the tables on the company and their new pet. For days to- gether he went about whistling "%ho' troubles assall * ¢ ; and the very night before sailing, as they sat qufet, one éach side of the hearth, he made the old woman jump by saying all of a sudden, “Coals o' fire!” What d'ee mean by that?’ she asked. Nothin’. I was thinkin’ to myself, and out it popped.” “Well, 'tis like a Providence. For, till you said that, I'd clean forgot tah;an sttng; for your cuddy fire. Mustn’'t waste cinders now that you're only ate. Being a woman, she couldn’t forego that little dig; but she got up there and then gave the old boy a kiss. She wouldn't walk down to the quay, though, next day, to see him off, being certain (she said) to lose her temper at the sight of Captain Dick carrying on as big as bull’s beef, not to mention the sneering shareholders and their wives. So Captain Jacka took his congees at his own door and turned haif way down the street and waved a good-by with the cinder sifter. She used to say afterward that this was vidence, too. The Unity ran straight across until she made Ushant light, and, after cruising about for a couple of days in moderate weather (it being the first week in April), Captain Dick laid her head east and began to nose up channel, keeping an easy little distance off the French coast. You see, the channel was full of our ships and neutrals in those days, which made fat work for the French privateers; but the Frenchies' own vessels kept close over on their coast, and even so the best our boys could expect, nine times out of ten when they'd crossed over, was to run against a chasse-maree dodging between Cherbourg and St. Malo or Morlaix with naval stores or munitions of war. However, Captain Dick had very good luck. One morning, about three leagues northwest of Roscoff, what should he see but a French privateer- ing craft of about fifty tons (new measurement), with an English trader in tow—a London brig, with a cargo of all sorts, that had fallen behind her convoy and been snapped vp in mid-channel. Captain Dick had the weather gauge, as well as the legs of the French chasse-maree. She was about a league to leeward when the morning lifted and he first spled her. By 7 o'clock he was close, and by 8§ had made himself master of her and the prize, with the loss of two men only and four wounded, the Frenchman being short-handed, by reason of the crew he'd put into the brig to work her into Morlaix. This was first rate business. To begin with, the brig (she was called the Martha Edwards of London), would yield a tidy little sum for salvage. Just then one of the hands forward dropped pumping and o out that there was a big sail on the starboard bow. “I b'lieve 'tis a frigate, sir,” he said, spying between his hands. So it was. She had sprung on them out of the thick weather. But now Captain Jacka could seé the white line on her and thé ports quite plain, and not_two miles away. ““What nation?’ he bawled. 2 an’t make out as she carries any flag—losh me! if there bain’t an- other Sure as I'm telling you, another frigate there was, likewise standing down toward them under easy canvas, on the same starboard tack, a mile astern, but well to windward of the first. ‘“Whatever they be,” sald Captain Jacka, “they're bound to head us and they’'re bound to hail us. T'll go get my tea,”.he said, “for if they're Frenchmen, ‘tis my last meal for months to come.” So he fetched out his frying pan and plenty sausages and fried away for dear life—with butter, too, which was ruinous waste. He shared round the sausages, two t6 each man, and kept the Bean Pheasant to her course until the leading frigate fired a shot across her bows, and ran up the red, whl;e and blue; and then, knowing the worst, he rounded to as meek as a lamb. ’ The long and short of it was that, inside the hour, the dozen Frenchmen were free, and Captain Jacka and his men in their place, ironed hand and foot, and the Bean Pheasant working back to France again with a young gentleman of the French navy aboard in command of her. £ But 'tis better to be lucky born, they say, than a rich man’s son. By this time it was Blowing pretty weil half a gale from sou'-sou’-west, and before midnight a proper gale. The Bean Pheasant being kept head to sea, took it smack-and-smack on the breastbone, which was her leakiest spot; and soon being down by the head, made shocking weather of it. 'Twas next door to impossible o work the pump forward. Toward 1 in the morn- ing old Jacka was rolling about up to his waist as he sat, and trying to comfort himself by singing “Tho’ troubles assail,” when the young French gentleman came running with one of his Johnnies and knocked the irons off the English boys and told-them to be brisk and help work the pumps, or the lugger—that was already hove to—would go down under them. “But where be you going?”’ he sings out—or French to that effect. For Jacka was moving aft toward the cuddy there. i Jacka fetched up his best smuggling French and answered; ‘““This here lugger is going down. Any fool can see that, as you're handling her. And I'm going down on a full stomach.” 3 ‘With that he reached an arm into the cuddy, where he’d stacked his The wind bein, her own captain and crew working her, of course, and thirty Frenchmen on board in irons. ‘“Off She Went Under a Rattling Shower From Enemy’s Bow Cannon and Musketry.” Then came the chasse-maree. She was called the Bean Pheasant* an werful leaky; but she mounted sixteen guns, the same as ought to ha old craft and the Unity, an h hadn't been able to make her mind to desert her prize prefty well within sight of port; and in the second place her men had a falr job to keep her pumps going. Captain Dick considered, and then turned to old Jacka. “T'm’ thinking” said he. k her back to Polperro.’ 0 N e Tora will provide,” said Jacka, though he had looked to ses @ given him s little more of the fun. So aboard he went with all his belo sausages and the stug of butter and the X the action about fifteen of the Johnnies had got out the brig’s and pulled her ashore, where, no doubt, they reached, safe and sound. So Jacka hadn't more than a dozen prisoners to look after, and prepared for 2 comfortable little homeward trip. through her s And at Plymouth she arrived without any mishap. > made a better run from her; but first, she said he, “I'll have to put you aboard with a prize crew “Come out o' that, “Aw, very well, gings, not forgetting his wife's I'put back for home and reship “A herp of cinders got awash, sir,” $aid Jacka. wi’ 'em and won't work.’ “Then we're lost, me: This was Jacka's c and inside o' ten minutes, un twenty mile from the English co: guns forr'ad. and quit messing with a ship you don't under: The young Frenchy was pluck: Plymouth and be made a prisoner But, you see, his crew weren’t navy men to listen to him fair for Plymouth, Captain Dick sent her into that port— provisions that evening on top of the frying pan. But the laboring of the ship had knocked everything there of a heap, an he caught hold of his wife's cinder sifter. At that moment the Frenchman ran up behind and caught him s vou old villain, and fall in at the af X 3 said Jack, turning at once—for the cinder sifter had bright idea, and he went right aft to his comrades. By this time the Frenchmen were busy g r They were so long that Jacka's boys had the after pump pretty well to der sifter. Toward the end of themseives, and between spells one or two ran and fetched buckets, making large boat out 'twas for extra baling; and all seemed to be working like niggers. But 8at by and by they called out all together with one woeful voice: fe;chucked, The pump is chucked!” ===~ = e 3 f % t this all the Frenchmen came running, the young officer 1 e “T'll just cruise between this and Jersey,” sald Captam Dick; “and at crying to know what was the matter. # T eading, and the week-end, if there’s nothing doing, we" parted, and by 10:30 Cap'n Jacka had Jaid the Bean Pheasant's y-west, and was reaching along nicely for home, with a foremast and leaned his stiff breeze, and nothing to do but keep the pumps going and attend to his eating and drinking between whiles. R The prize made a good deal of water, but was a weatherly craft for all and on this point of sailing shipped nothing but what she took in Here you be, three times that distance and more from any port o ams; the worst of the mischief being forward, where her own, the wind dead on her nose, and you ram-stramming the weak stem had worked a bit loose with age and started the bends. Cap'n Jacka, her at a sea that's knocking the bows to Jericho. Now, Mo however, thought less of the sea—that was working up into a nasty I her about and run for Pl than of the weather, which turned thick and hazy as the wind \'eerec} little to west of south. But even this didn’t trouble him much. He had warn she wiil do it. sausages for breakfast and sausages for dinner, and, as evening drew on, and he knew he was well on the right side of the channel, he knocked out his pipe and began to think of sausages for tea. ting the first gun overboard. against it like a child. I'll sink first!” saye he. d instead of the frying pan er pump! “The pump “The pump’s clogged d the officer, and he caught hold by the ild. ance. ‘*‘Lost,is it? Iss, I reckon you be lost!— 'ss you hearken to rayson, Here you be, not t, as I make it, and with a fair wind. stand, an’ I'll as ginger. “What! Take her into : and they Messing a Ship had wives and families, and chance. In five minutes, for they had the Bean Pheasant ol they arrived. By § o’clock One was fetching along on flag. Cap'n Dick feigned to take The Frer gun of which t one to miss rrying on in h a French p! have thought he By 9 o'clock they made out breeze—they saw a sail right Sound. And who should it be over his right shoulder. 1 within_hail. e “Aw, nothin’, nothin’. you old angletwitch!—she " As a matter of fact s d s,”” he boasts “Dear, now! must ha' been the very same. “Iss, 1s craft—'" o make it look that he was spot of ), vou put bhard veather glass. Weather & Probably “Olne Now I've got to go back and tell you what was happening to t! nit in all this while. About 4 in the afternoon Cap'n Dick, not liking the i< of the weather at all, and knowing that, so long whistle for prizes, changed his mind and determined te run back to k perro, so as to reship <‘ap'n};’a<‘kzx and the prize crew almost as soon & V e w along quite as if she enjoyed it, anc Toward 3 in the morning the wind mode blown itself out. Just about then the loc turned in for a spell, and reported two ships them. The chances against their b of the channel, were about five daybreak—about 5:15—found him: gates that had called Jacka to halt t side of him, just making ready to put about. he ensign at sight of him; but this m frigate to starboard fired a shot a a nice distance under the lee of the quite contentedly with their sails abac the first boat had hardly dropped a foot from th “Wurroo. lads!” and up again went th i went under a rattling shower from the and was out of range without a man hur a hole or two in the mizzen lug. Th trimming sails and. bracing their va Cap'n Dick had slanted up wel time he was shaking his sides at the sight of vainly spreading and trimming more canvas to ¢ at first the lazy dogs had barely unreefed cour had their topgallant masts housed). Likely hand more important than chasing a s they gave up and stood away to the head back homeward on her old course. *Twas a surprising feat to slip out of g y ssoos, offering them a tow rope, and the lik. deck wasn't big enough to hold hi. n, the men encou. as Admiral N a little after—the morning being bright and clear Cap'n Dick cracked along after her, close! Six of her guns had gone, her men were b still she was down a bit by the head, and h tail when his head’s in a rabbit hole. And there at the til Jacka, his bald head shining like a Statue of fun, and his one e With blessed satisfaction as he “Tho troubles a a bit too fond o’ smelling the wir Jacka cared to think about, now that the ¢ “But what brings 'ee here? £ This was Cap'n Dick's chance. “I've run between tw d, “in broad day, an’ give | said Cap'n Jacka. “So I What did 'ee take out of 'em?” They were two war frigates, I tell ce!” don’t lose your temper. All'T mana French orcifer here; but I thought, maybe, that you—having a handics “Pitch a Couple of Guns Overboard and Quit You Don’t Understand,” Said Captain Jacka. knew that Cap'n Jack was their only all the officer's stamping and morb! about, and were running for the E it lasted, he might the Unity skippin all that night. y 4:30 the gale had who had well on his wa nd ran before the g out came to Cap'n Dick lights, hmen ) two; so Cap'n Dick cracked elf right siap between the v e evening before ck and other on the weather both up the white And in a few minutes and hoisted her Fri ing two frie the port ant nothin 088 his bows the hint. He shortened smy—both_frig , and lowering th n their s y's bow-ch and with no more damage enchmen were a good ten minutes for a chase; and by that tima Il on their weather bow. Before breakfast ven hundred 0dd Johnnies teh up their leeway (for s after the gale, and still nough they had work on er all day; for at 7 o'clock ft the Unity free to nd past two could have > bottom; and boasting over it. Even during the chase he ual loud and cheeky way, waving good- but now tr wagger, and in their joy of escapin aged him, so that to hear them talk yoi on and 'Sir Sidney Smith rolled into one. the Eddystone on their starboard bow; and ith a nice, steady ng in for Piymouth ant, deep as a logl - was as he drew ling in two gangs stern yawing like a terr > twinkling cocked it every now and then for a glance w ahead of the but the old Be and a picture “Hullo! What's amiss?” sang out Cap'n Dick, as the Unity fetched ail an’ da gers—st there, taken more An' what the slip to bot e I—in broad d to take was this young Jacka chuckled a bit; but he wasn't one to keep a joke going for spite, “Look-y-here, cap'n,” he said; “I'll hear your tale when we get inte dock, and you shall hear mine. this here lugger again and sail along into Plymouth with her as your priy T wants, if possible, to spare the feel brought in by force. In the common way. An’ I likes the fellow, too, though he What I want ’ee to do just now Is to take of this young gentieman, an For so he was, though not » kick terrible ;: sl 4 Sy hey do say that two days later, when Cap'n Jacka walked outh. iale may do {t. Pltch over a couple of They 40 So¥ LUy (U0 nHer sifter under his arm: o Vi Bt o kissed his wife he stepped fore and hitched it on a nail right in th 3;&‘.(\]9 of the wall over the chimney piece, between John W ht in t d that, before eve ey and th *Probably “Bienfaisant.” - 00000000000000000000000000000000000000OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000‘ | it & 1 i JACKSON FARLEY. the Great Indian Fighter of Mendocino County. ' AHTO, Cal, Dec.” 9.—The great American Indian fighter, famed in history and dime novel, is rapidly becoming a memory of the past. There are only a few of him left. With the taming and the thinning out of the Indian, his occupation vanished, and if you dis- cover one to-day he is either a very old man or else a very untruthful one, especially in California, where the hos- tile savage has not been seen in many years. One of the few authenticated Indian fighters of California is old Jackson Farley, commonly known as nele Jack,” who lives on his ranch high up in the mountains of Mendocino County. Uncle Jack has passed his ninety- second birthday and will modestly ad- mit the killing of one hundred Indians. Only he will not say that he “killed” them; ‘“stopped” is his favorite expression—an expres- sion, by the way, that originated with him in the early fifties and subsequent- ly became official vernacular among scouts and cattlemen. Between the years 1849 and 1865 Uncle Jack was engaged in almost constant warfare with the Indians of Mendocino, Trinity and Humboldt counties. He came to California from Virginia with the early settlers in search of adven- ture and fortune; and in search of re- venge, too, for during the journey across the plains his best friend died from an Indian’s arrow, and Uncle Jack fell easily into the then common belief that the only good Indian was a dead one, Trophies galore of the balance of that bloody journey he showed to The Call representative: Scalps by the dozen, chairs bottomed with Indian hide, razor strops of the same grewsome material and countless bows, arrows, toma- hawks and firearms. ‘With neither wife nor child, only the comradeship of a big mastiff, Uncle Jack arrived here in 1849 and settled down to the business of stock raising on the lonely mountain ranges of Men- docino. man entered the shop of a famous Parisian diamond merchant and requested to see the proprietor. On his wish being granted, he drew from his pocket a little packet of blue gems and spread them before the jew- eler, asking for a candid opinion upon their merits. A “Sapphires!” exclaimed the jeweler. “Very fine ones. Do you wish te sell them?” “Do you wish to buy them, and as many others as I can make?” returned the visitor, quietly. “Make! I don’t follow you!" “I made those sapphires before you, but I defy you to discover a flaw in them.” explained the visitor, with some S OME time ago a quietly dressed Last of the Indian Fighters. From 1850 to 1856 there were no In- dian agencies established, and the ad- vent of a white man was an invitation to the treacherous instincts of the In- dian. Murder, arson and cattle and horse stealing ran riot. Farley went out one morning to in- spect his stock, and found that twenty- five horses and a hundred head of cat- tle had been stolen, and that his favor- ite saddle horse had been killed and mutilated, its mane and tail hanging delflantly on the gate posts of the cor- ral. Uncle Jack hastened back to his cabin, where he secured extra ammuni- tion and another brace of six-shooters. Three friendly prospectors with an ex- tra horse were in the neighborhood, and they and Uncle Jack set forth in pursuit of the thieves. Reaching a deep canyon where one of the Eel River tributaries came cascading down the mountain they were about to water their horses when they were struck by the peculiar color of the water. It was blood red. This was enough to tell Uncle Jack that the Indians were butchering his cattle up the river and washing the carcasses in the stream. In a flash he and his companions were riding up the trail. where they soon met a shower of arrows. This was in the day of the muzzle-loading rifle, and every one of their return shots had to tell. Uncle Jack and his friends dismount- ed and broke for cover. In the shelter of trees and bushes they poured a slow but deadly fire on the attacking red men. As fast as the savages could re- organize and surround, the rifles of the white men would cut gaps in the sav- agce circle. Time after time the Indians were repulsed, and finally after five hours of bitter fighting. their supply of arrows gave out and they beat a re- treat. Uncle Jack recovered only a remnant of his band of cattle and none of the horses; but exactly forty Indians, “good and dead,” marked the quantity of his vengeance. This was one of Uncle Jack’s most successful days: it soon became historic and was instru- mental in securing him a Governmental scoutship when the first Indian post was established in 1856. 0000C0000000000000 00000000000 000000 FAMOUS JEWEL SWINDLES. show of pride; and he went on to state he had discovered a method of making not sham gems,sbut real ones. The jeweler was incredulous; the gems before him were unquestionably genuine. “Well, T'll let you have that lot for $10,” replied the inventor, “and I can make you any number you like for $1 each, and you must know that they are worth from $8 to $16 each. The fact is I want you to enter into partnership with me for the manufacture and sale of these gems; I'll manufacture them and you can sell, and in this way we ;:(an work in secret and scoop the mar- ot 5 The bated breath of the dealer in precious stones was fairly taken out of his body by this noble offer, and he, having bought the sapphires at the price asked, said he would think the matter over and give his decision if the inventor would call next day, and the inventor departed. q No sooner had he gone than the dealer rushed to his testing-room and put his newly acquired sapphires to every possible test. What could it all mean? They were undoubtedly real! How could he suspect a fraud when the seller had parted with them for less than a tenth of their value? No, his fortune was made. A few days later he visited the labor- atory of his scientific visitor and had some genuine sapphires manufactured while he waited. That clinched the matter. Thirty hours after he signed a deed of partnership with the scien- tist, paid over the sum of $40,000 in hard cash as first installment of the $250,000 which was the price of half the secret, and returned home to dream of mountains of money and sapphires as large as continents. Next morning the scientist left his abode with $40,000 on his person, smil- ing grimly as he looked for the last time round his ostentatious laboratory, chuckling at the thought of how he had set a sprat to catch a whale, that is, $100 worth of genuine sapphires for $40,000. And at Calais, where he set out for new worlds to conquer, he met two other scientific gentlemen who had been working similar schemes simultaneous- 1y upon two other diamond merchants. The idea of manufacturing genuine precious stones and metals at a cost which admits of a profit being made is a notion offering such boundless for- tunes to any one who could invent the process that even the most wary busi- ness men have been defrauded by per- sons who have claimed ability to work the wonder. Probably the majority of such fraudulent schemes have been in connection with either the making of gold from some mineral or minerals, or of extracting gold in paying quantities from sources where it exists in the most minute quantities—for example, the oceans. But one of the most auda- cious and at the same time successful of such swindles was perpetrated in Austria a few years since. A self-styled scientist stated that he had discovered a process by which an admixture of silver and copper could be turned into two-thirds its weight of the purest gold that could be discov- ered, and as the process was remark- ably inexpensive, and the admixture was two and a half of copper to one and a half of silver, the scheme smacked of fortunes parallel only to national - debts. The marvelous scheme was put before some of the ‘wealthiest dealers in precious stones and metals, who were previously bound under a penalty not to disclose any of the secrets of the process. This was mere fantasy, for there was no process, and, consequently, it had no secrets; but the detail served as dust in the eyes of the future victims. Demonstrations of certain portions of the process were made privately before each cf the gentlemen who had been generously invited to become rich by the scheme, and so cleverly were these demonstrations made that the pseudo- scientist had but little difficulty in per- suading eight men of wealth to form a secret and select syndicate to work his Dprocess. ‘With a view to improving his inventions the scientist occupied in making further experiments all the time which was necessary for him to get in his victims' investments, and then he proved how money-making his scheme was by eloping with nearly $50,- 000 and skipping to a country where he could enjoy in peace and seclusion the fame and honor his wonderful discovery had drawn “thick upon him'' from the worlds of science, His telephonic ad- dress is not known. A well-dressed gentleman walked into a Vienna jewelry establishment on one occasion and requested the manager to send an assortment of diamond neck- laces and bracelets te Count Some- thingorother at one of the best hotels in the town during the course of the day. The manager, who easily recog- nized in his customer the pe: sonality of one of the first princes in Germany, replied, with an urbanity which might have melted the self-same diamonds, that the esteemed order should be com- plied with. He not unnaturally con- cluded that the prince was traveling in- cognito, for there could be no question as to who Count Somethingorother really was. The jewels were taken to the Count's hotel later in the day by the manager himself, who could not do honor enough to the royal customer. During the ex- amination of the jewels the manager let out that he detected the Count's identity, whereupon the latter professed intense annoyance and begged the man- ager to be discreet, as he particularly desired his presence in Vienna to be ab- solutely secret; he had come unattended With that express intention. Finally, after much indecision, he selected $4000 worth of jewelry, which he directed should be sent around to the flat of a then famous singer, bearing no indica- tion of whence it emanated beyond be- ing tied up in a particular way. He would be leaving Vienna that evening, and on reaching Berlin would forward full remittance. In dealing with royal personages it i gross impertinence to think of the pay- ment, so the case of jewels was sent as directed, and it was taken in and signed for by one of the servants of the flat, Wwho the same evening eloped with the Prince and sought other climates. The Prince, whose personality the jeweler had so smartly detected, was a super at the theater where nightly sang the singer who did not get the dia- monds. The maid who did get them was engaged to the princely super, and, as has been seen, she acted up to her engagement and likewise brought her husband a very handsome dot. —_—— The first member of the reformed Par- liament reproved by the chair for unseem- ly language was Daniel O'Connell, ths great Trish agitator. The incident, which occurred in the first week of the meeting of the House of Commons, is also re- markable for having evoked from the Speaker a definite ruling on an interest- ing constitutional point. The ‘Speech from the Throne” called attention, amon other things, to the insecurity of life anc property in'Ireland, and asked for co- ercive measures for the repression of crime. In the course of the debate O'Con= nell characterized the speech from the throne #&s ‘“brutal and bloody.” vord John Russell at once moved that the words be taken down. ‘“‘Oh!” exclaimed O'Connell, “when we speak of Ireland and her wrongs it must be .. “In bondsman's key, With bated breath and whispering, hum= bleness."” 20rd John Russell objected to the word bloody” being a‘th‘d to a speech which had, only a few days previou been de- livered by the King—William IV—in per- son in the House of Lords. O’Connell in- sisted that it was not the speech nf%' King but the speech of the Ministers. T Speaker agreed with the honorable and learned member on the constitutional point, but informed him that his language was not calculated to preserve order and decency of debate. The “‘bloody and brutal ‘Whigs"” subsequently became a popular hrase with O'Connell in his speeches in reland, and, indeed, is not unknown to« day in Irish political controversies.—Nine« teenth Century.