Chapter III: Part 3

But nothing could blaze more brightly and cheerfully than the two large wax candles; or if aught could rival them, it was the flaming, bickering fagots in the chimney, that sent at once their gleam and their warmth through the snug apartment; which, notwithstanding the general antiquity of its appearance, was not wanting in the least convenience that modern habits rendered either necessary or desirable.

"This is an old-fashioned sleeping apartment, general," said the young lord; "but I hope you find nothing that makes you envy your old tobacco-cask."

"I am not particular respecting my lodgings," replied the general; "yet were I to make any choice, I would prefer this chamber by many degrees to the gayer and more modern rooms of your family mansion. Believe me, that when I unite its modern air of comfort with its venerable antiquity, and recollect that it is your lordship's property, I shall feel in better quarters here than if I were in the best hotel London could afford."

"I trust--I have no doubt--that you will find yourself as comfortable as I wish you, my dear general," said the young nobleman; and once more bidding his guest good night, he shook him by the hand and withdrew.

The general once more looked about him, and internally congratulating himself on his return to peaceful life, the comforts of which were endeared by the recollection of the hardships and dangers he had lately sustained, undressed himself, and prepared for a luxurious night's rest.

Here, contrary to the custom of this species of tale, we leave the general in possession of his apartment until the next morning.

The company assembled for breakfast at an early hour, but without the appearance of General Browne, who seemed the guest that Lord Woodville was desirous of honoring above all whom his hospitality had assembled around him.

He more than once expressed surprise at the general's absence, and at length sent a servant to make inquiry after him. The man brought back information that General Browne had been walking abroad since an early hour of the morning, in defiance of the weather, which was misty and ungenial.

"The custom of a soldier," said the young nobleman to his friends; "many of them acquire habitual vigilance, and cannot sleep after the early hour at which their duty usually commands them to be alert."

Yet the explanation which Lord Woodville thus offered to the company seemed hardly satisfactory to his own mind, and it was in a fit of silence and abstraction that he awaited the return of the general.

It took place near an hour after the breakfast bell had rung. He looked fatigued and feverish. His hair, the powdering and arrangement of which was at this time one of the most important occupations of a man's whole day, and marked his fashion as much as, in the present time, the tying of a cravat, or the want of one, was disheveled, uncurled, void of powder, and dank with dew. His clothes were huddled on with a careless negligence, remarkable in a military man, whose real or supposed duties are usually held to include some attention to the toilet, and his looks were haggard and ghastly.

"So you have stolen a march upon us this morning, my dear general," said Lord Woodville; "or you have not found your bed so much to your mind as I had hoped and you seemed to expect. How did you rest last night?"

"Oh, excellently well! remarkably well! never better in my life," said General Browne rapidly, and yet with an air of embarrassment which was obvious to his friend. He then hastily swallowed a cup of tea, and, neglecting or refusing whatever else was offered, seemed to fall into a fit of abstraction.

"You will take the gun to-day, General?" said his friend and host, but had to repeat the question twice ere he received the abrupt answer: "No, my lord; I am sorry I cannot have the honor of spending another day with your lordship; my post horses are ordered, and will be here directly."

All who were present showed surprise, and Lord Woodville immediately replied: "Post horses, my good friend! What can you possibly want with them, when you promised to stay with me quietly for at least a week?"

"I believe," said the general, obviously much embarrassed, "that I might, in the pleasure of my first meeting with your lordship, have said something about stopping here a few days; but I have since found it altogether impossible."

"That is very extraordinary," answered the young nobleman. "You seemed quite disengaged yesterday, and you cannot have had a summons to-day; for our post has not come up from the town, and therefore you cannot have received any letters."

General Browne, without giving any further explanation, muttered something of indispensable business, and insisted on the absolute necessity of his departure in a manner which silenced all opposition on the part of his host, who saw that his resolution was taken, and forbore all further importunity.

"At least, however," he said, "permit me, my dear Browne, since go you will or must, to show you the view from the terrace, which the mist, that is now rising, will soon display."

He threw open a sash-window, and stepped down upon the terrace as he spoke. The general followed him mechanically, but seemed little to attend to what his host was saying, as, looking across an extended and rich prospect, he pointed out the different objects worthy of observation.

Thus they moved on till Lord Woodville had attained his purpose of drawing his guest entirely apart from the rest of the company, when, turning around upon him with an air of great solemnity, he addressed him thus:

"Richard Browne, my old and very dear friend, we are now alone. Let me conjure you to answer me upon the word of a friend, and the honor of a soldier. How did you in reality rest during last night?"

"Most wretchedly indeed, my lord," answered the general, in the same tone of solemnity; "so miserably, that I would not run the risk of such a second night, not only for all the lands belonging to this castle, but for all the country which I see from this elevated point of view."

"This is most extraordinary," said the young lord, as if speaking to himself; "then there must be something in the reports concerning that apartment." Again turning to the general, he said: "For God's sake, my dear friend, be candid with me, and let me know the disagreeable particulars which have befallen you under a roof where, with consent of the owner, you should have met nothing save comfort."

The general seemed distressed by this appeal, and paused a moment before he replied.

"My dear lord," he at length said, "what happened to me last night is of a nature so peculiar and so unpleasant, that I could hardly bring myself to detail it even to your lordship, were it not that, independent of my wish to gratify any request of yours, I think that sincerity on my part may lead to some explanation about a circumstance equally painful and mysterious. To others, the communication I am about to make might place me in the light of a weak-minded, superstitious fool, who suffered his own imagination to delude and bewilder him; but you have known me in childhood and youth, and will not suspect me of having adopted in manhood the feelings and frailties from which my early years were free."

Here he paused, and his friend replied:

"Do not doubt my perfect confidence in the truth of your communication, however strange it may be," replied Lord Woodville, "I know your firmness of disposition too well to suspect you could be made the object of imposition, and am aware that your honor and your friendship will equally deter you from exaggerating whatever you may have witnessed."

"Well, then," said the general, "I will proceed with my story as well as I can, relying upon your candor; and yet distinctly feeling that I would rather face a battery than recall to my mind the odious recollections of last night."

He paused a second time, and then, perceiving that Lord Woodville remained silent and in an attitude of attention, he commenced, though not without obvious reluctance, the history of his night adventures in the Tapestried Chamber.

"I undressed and went to bed, so soon as your lordship left me yesterday evening; but the wood in the chimney, which nearly fronted my bed, blazed brightly and cheerfully, and, aided by a hundred exciting recollections of my childhood and youth, which had been recalled by the unexpected pleasure of meeting your lordship, prevented me from falling immediately asleep.

"I ought, however, to say that these reflections were all of a pleasant and agreeable kind, grounded on a sense of having for a time exchanged the labor, fatigues, and dangers of my profession for the enjoyments of a peaceful life, and the reunion of those friendly and affectionate ties which I had torn asunder at the rude summons of war.

"While such pleasing reflections were stealing over my mind, and gradually lulling me to slumber, I was suddenly aroused by a sound like that of the rustling of a silken gown, and the tapping of a pair of high-heeled shoes, as if a woman were walking in the apartment.

"Ere I could draw the curtain to see what the matter was, the figure of a little woman passed between the bed and the fire. The back of this form was turned to me, and I could observe, from the shoulders and neck, it was that of an old woman, whose dress was an old-fashioned gown, which, I think, ladies call a sacque; that is, a sort of robe completely loose in the body, but gathered into broad plaits upon the neck and shoulders which fall down to the ground and terminate in a species of train.

"I thought the intrusion singular enough, but never harbored for a moment the idea that what I saw was anything more than the mortal form of some old woman about the establishment, who had a fancy to dress like her grandmother, and who, having perhaps (as your lordship mentioned that you were rather straitened for room) been dislodged from her chamber for my accommodation, had forgotten the circumstance and returned by twelve to her old haunt.

"Under this persuasion I moved myself in bed and coughed a little, to make the intruder sensible of my being in possession of the premises. She turned slowly around, but, gracious heaven! my lord, what a countenance did she display to me!

"There was no longer any question what she was, or any thought of her being a living being.

"Upon a face which wore the fixed features of a corpse were imprinted the traces of the vilest and most hideous passions which had animated her while she lived. The body of some atrocious criminal seemed to have been given up from the grave, and the soul restored from the penal fire, in order to form, for a space, a union with the ancient accomplice of its guilt.

"I started up in bed and sat upright, supporting myself on my palms, as I gazed on this horrible specter.

"The hag made, as it seemed, a single and swift stride to the bed where I lay, and squatted herself down upon it in precisely the same attitude which I had assumed in the extremity of horror, advancing her diabolical countenance within half a yard of mine, with a grin which seemed to intimate the malice and the derision of an incarnate fiend."

Here General Browne stopped and wiped from his brow the cold perspiration with which the recollection of this horrible vision had covered it.

"My lord," he said, "I am no coward. I have been in all the mortal dangers incidental to my profession, and I may truly boast that no man ever knew Richard Browne dishonor the sword he wears; but in these horrible circumstances, under the eyes, and, as it seemed, almost in the grasp of an incarnation of an evil spirit, all firmness forsook me, all manhood melted from me like wax in the furnace, and I felt my hair individually bristle. The current of my life-blood ceased to flow, and I sank back in a swoon, as very a victim to panic terror as ever was a village girl, or a child of ten years old. How long I lay in this condition I cannot pretend to guess.

"But I was roused by the castle clock striking one, so loud that it seemed as if it were in the very room. It was some time before I dared open my eyes, lest they should again encounter the horrible spectacle. When, however, I summoned courage to look up, she was no longer visible.

"My first idea was to pull my bell, wake the servants, and remove to a garret or a hayloft, to be insured against a second visitation. Nay, I will confess the truth, that my resolution was altered, not by the shame of exposing myself, but by the fear that, as the bell-cord hung by the chimney, I might, in making my way to it, be again crossed by the fiendish hag, who, I figured to myself, might be still lurking about some corner of the apartment.

"I will not pretend to describe what hot and cold fever-fits tormented me for the rest of the night, through broken sleep, weary vigils, and that dubious state which forms the neutral ground between them. A hundred terrible objects appeared to haunt me; but there was the great difference between the vision which I have described, and those which followed, that I knew the last to be deceptions of my own fancy.

"Day at last appeared, and I rose from my bed, ill in health and humiliated in mind. I was ashamed of myself as a man and a soldier, and still more so at feeling my own extreme desire to escape from the haunted apartment, which, however, conquered all other considerations; so that, huddling on my clothes with the most careless haste, I made my escape from your lordship's mansion to seek in the open air some relief to my nervous system, shaken as it was by this horrible encounter with a visitant, for such I must believe her, from the other world.

"Your lordship has now heard the cause of my discomfiture, and of my sudden desire to leave your hospitable castle. In other places I trust we may often meet; but God protect me from ever spending a second night under that roof!"

Strange as the general's tale was, he spoke with such a deep air of conviction that it cut short all the usual commentaries which are made on such stories. Lord Woodville never once asked him if he was sure he did not dream of the apparition, or suggested any of the possibilities by which it is fashionable to explain supernatural appearances--as wild vagaries of the fancy or deceptions of the optic nerves.

On the contrary he seemed deeply impressed with the truth and reality of what he had heard; and, after a considerable pause, regretted, with much appearance of sincerity, that his early friend should in his house have suffered so severely.

"I am the more sorry for your pain, my dear Browne," he continued, "that it is the unhappy, though most unexpected, result of an experiment of my own. You must know that, for my father and grandfather's time at least, the apartment which was assigned to you last night had been shut on account of reports that it was disturbed by supernatural sights and noises.

"When I came, a few weeks since, into possession of the estate, I thought the accommodation which the castle afforded for my friends was not extensive enough to permit the inhabitants of the invisible world to retain possession of a comfortable sleeping apartment.

"I therefore caused the Tapestried Chamber, as we call it, to be opened; and, without destroying its air of antiquity, I had such new articles of furniture placed in it as became the modern times. Yet as the opinion that the room was haunted very strongly prevailed among the domestics, and was also known in the neighborhood and to many of my friends, I feared some prejudice might be entertained by the first occupant of the Tapestried Chamber, which might tend to revive the evil report which it had labored under, and so disappoint my purpose of rendering it a useful part of the house.

"I must confess, my dear Browne, that your arrival yesterday, agreeable to me for a thousand reasons besides, seemed the most favorable opportunity of removing the unpleasant rumors which attached to the room, since your courage was indubitable, and your mind free of any preoccupation on the subject. I could not, therefore, have chosen a more fitting subject for my experiment."

"Upon my life," said General Browne, somewhat hastily, "I am infinitely obliged to your lordship--very particularly indebted indeed. I am likely to remember for some time the consequences of the experiment, as your lordship is pleased to call it."

"Nay, now you are unjust, my dear friend," said Lord Woodville. "You have only to reflect for a single moment in order to be convinced that I could not augur the possibility of the pain to which you have been so unhappily exposed.

"I was yesterday morning a complete skeptic on the subject of supernatural appearances. Nay, I am sure that had I told you what was said about that room, those very reports would have induced you, by your own choice, to select it for your accommodation. It was my misfortune, perhaps my error, but really cannot be termed my fault, that you have been afflicted so strangely."

"Strangely indeed!" said the general, resuming his good temper; "and I acknowledge that I have no right to be offended with your lordship for treating me like what I used to think myself--a man of some firmness and courage. But I see my post horses are arrived, and I must not detain your lordship from your amusement."

"Nay, my old friend," said Lord Woodville; "since you cannot stay with us another day--which, indeed, I can no longer urge--give me at least half an hour more. You used to love pictures, and I have a gallery of portraits, some of them by Vandyke, representing ancestry to whom this property and castle formerly belonged. I think that several of them will strike you as possessing merit."

General Browne accepted the invitation, though somewhat unwillingly. It was evident he was not to breathe freely or at ease till he left Woodville Castle far behind him. He could not refuse his friend's invitation, however; and the less so, that he was a little ashamed of the peevishness which he had displayed toward his well-meaning entertainer.

The general, therefore, followed Lord Woodville through several rooms, into a long gallery hung with pictures, which the latter pointed out to his guest, telling the names, and giving some account of the personages whose portraits presented themselves in progression.

General Browne was but little interested in the details which these accounts conveyed to him. They were, indeed, of the kind which are usually found in an old family gallery. Here was a cavalier who had ruined the estate in the royal cause; there, a fine lady who had reinstated it by contracting a match with a wealthy Roundhead. There hung a gallant who had been in danger for corresponding with the exiled Court at Saint Germain's; here, one who had taken arms for William at the Revolution; and there, a third that had thrown his weight alternately into the scale of Whig and Tory.

While Lord Woodville was cramming these words into his guest's ear, "against the stomach of his sense," they gained the middle of the gallery, when he beheld General Browne suddenly start and assume an attitude of the utmost surprise, not unmixed with fear, as his eyes were caught and suddenly riveted by a portrait of an old lady in a sacque, the fashionable dress at the end of the seventeenth century.

"There she is!" he exclaimed; "there she is, in form and features, though inferior in demoniac expression to the hag that visited me last night!"

"If that be the case," said the young nobleman, "there can remain no longer any doubt of the horrible reality of your apparition. That is the picture of a wretched ancestress of mine, of whose crimes a black and fearful catalogue is recorded in a family history in my charter-chest. The recital of them would be too horrible; it is enough to say that in yon fatal apartment incest and unnatural murder were committed. I will restore it to the solitude to which the better judgment of those who preceded me had consigned it; and never shall any one, so long as I can prevent it, be exposed to a repetition of the supernatural horrors which could shake such courage as yours."

Thus the friends, who had met with such glee, parted in a very different mood; Lord Woodville to command the Tapestried Chamber to be unmantled and the door built up, and General Browne to seek in some less beautiful country, and with some less dignified friend, forgetfulness of the painful night which he had passed in Woodville Castle.

THE DIARY OF AN OLD MAID.

The following truthful and touching history of an old maid, dating from about 1843, is one of the briefest, yet at the same time most complete, records of human experience in print. Those who can read between the lines will have full sympathy for the author of it, who seems to have found that though marriage may prove a failure, abstention from matrimony does not bring happiness:

At fifteen years, anxious for coming out.

Sixteen, began to have some idea of the tender passion.

Seventeen, talked of love in a cottage, and _disinterested
affection_.

Eighteen, fancied myself in love with some handsome man who
flattered me.

Nineteen, was a little more difficult, in consequence of
being noticed.

Twenty, commenced to be fashionable and dashing.

Twenty-one, still more confidence in my own attractions, and
expected a brilliant establishment.

Twenty-two, refused a good offer because he was not a man of
fashion.

Twenty-three, flirted with every young man I met.

Twenty-four, wondered why not married.

Twenty-five, rather more circumspect in conduct.

Twenty-six, began to think a large fortune not quite so
indispensable.

Twenty-seven, preferred the company of rational men.

Twenty-eight, wished to be married in a quiet way, with a
comfortable home and children.

Twenty-nine, almost despaired of entering the marriage
state.

Thirty, was rather fearful of being called an old maid.

Thirty-one, an additional love of self-adornment.

Thirty-two, professed to dislike balls, finding it quite
difficult to secure good partners.

Thirty-three, wondered how men could leave the society of
sensible women to flirt with chits.

Thirty-four, affected good humor in conversation with men.

Thirty-five, jealous of the praises of women.

Thirty-six, quarreled with friend who had been lately
married.

Thirty-seven, thought myself slighted in company.

Thirty-eight, liked talking of my acquaintances who are
married unfortunately, and found endless consolation in
their misfortunes.

Thirty-nine, ill-nature increased.

Forty, became a confirmed scold.

And so on up to fifty, when the lady seized upon lap-dogs,
and talked largely of philanthropy. After that age, gray
hairs start out upon the temple, and "old lady" becomes the
tune--no longer old maid.

GRAVE, GAY, AND EPIGRAMMATIC.

COMPENSATION.

"Too late!" he shrieked--with bulging eyes
He watched the train pull out--
And, overcome, gave vent to rage
In one tremendous shout.

"We'd caught the thing in plenty time!"
He turned around and said:
"But for the hour you took to put
That hat upon your head!"

"I know it!" happily smiled his wife;
"But did you notice, sweet,
How everybody rubbered 'round
When we came down the street?"

_New York World._

EASTER GOSSIP.

Dey's done had chicken at her house,
It's easy tellin' dat
By de contentment in her face
An' de feathers in her hat.

_Washington Star._

FAR FROM MARKET.

Soon after the Civil War, General Ingalls, U.S.A., visited a friend in the South. Taking a walk one morning he met a boy coming up from the river with a fine string of fish.

"What will you take for your fish?" asked the general.

"Thirty cents," was the reply.

"Thirty cents!" repeated the general in astonishment. "Why, if you were in New York you could get three dollars for them."

The boy looked critically at the officer for a moment and then said, scornfully:

"Yes, suh; en' I reckon if I had a bucket of water in hell I could get a million dollars for it."--_Saturday Evening Post._

MOZART'S MILITARY MARCH.

Cardinal Gibbons was facetious when the Irish ladies' choir of Dublin called on him. Turning suddenly, he asked:

"Which one of you is the oldest?"

None claimed the honor and all blushed. The talk drifted around to Gilmore and his band, and Cardinal Gibbons told of how Gilmore, at Coney Island, hearing that the cardinal was in the audience, played "Maryland, My Maryland," and how it pleased him.

"Gilmore," said the cardinal, "was famous for his playing of Mozart's 'Twelfth Mass.' Once he played it in a North Carolina town and next day the local paper announced that he rendered with great effect Mozart's 'Twelfth Massachusetts.'"

_Pittsburgh Dispatch._

THE BOSS.

Who is it, when the people rise
And make the welkin ring with cries
For freedom, sits with upturned eyes?
The Boss.

Who is it makes a little slate
And nominates the candidate--
But lets the people pay the freight?
The Boss.

Who is it, after all the noise
Against the methods he employs
Is meekly followed by the boys?
The Boss.

Who, when he gets alone where we
That boast about the liberty
We have can neither hear nor see
Says: "Oh, what fools these mortals be!"
The Boss.

_Chicago Times-Herald._

CHANGES.

One hundred years ago to-day,
With wildernesses here,
With powder in his gun, the man
Went out and got the deer.

But now the thing is somewhat changed,
And on another plan;
With powder on her cheeks the dear
Goes out and gets the man.

_Indianapolis Sun._

THE SULTAN'S THREAT.

The Sultan of Sulu is the man who is not afraid. He imported an eighteen-thousand-dollar uniform from Paris for the occasion of the Taft reception not long ago and when the costume came he refused to pay duty on it. The custom authorities made a fuss and threatened to keep the uniform.

"Very well," said Mr. Sultan, "keep your old uniform, but understand that I shall wear that at the reception or nothing." The horrified officers perceived that he meant what he said and the suit was handed over in silence.--_Minneapolis Tribune._

A FRAGMENT.

Only a woman's hair,
Long, delicate, and slender;
Light as the spider's silken lair,
Soft as a moonbeam tender.

One that some hapless swain
Might carry as a token
Of her he loves, yet loves in vain,
With constancy unbroken.

For such as this, I ween,
Knights dead and gone have battled;
When lance met lance in tourney keen,
And sword on buckler rattled.

And yet it makes me swear
At our confounded slavy;
For I'll be hanged if I can bear
Such relics in the gravy!

_Pick-Me-Up._

REED'S WAY OUT OF IT.

A story is told of Thomas B. Reed by neighbors who knew him in his childhood to the effect that once, when sent to the grocery store with a jug for vinegar, he forgot what he was told to get, and, when asked by the grocer what he wanted, replied.

"Smell of the jug, and give me a quart."

_Boston Herald._

CAUSE FOR ALARM.

The late Dr. Boardman of Philadelphia used to relate this on himself: "I preached a funeral sermon at one time, and spoke on the resurrection. I am sure I spoke longer than was my custom.

"The undertaker was a man of nervous temperament, and as the afternoon was going he began to be anxious to be on the way to the cemetery. He finally whispered to one of my members: 'Does your minister always preach as long as that at a funeral?'

"'Well,' said the brother, 'that is a good sermon.'

"'Yes,' said the undertaker, 'the sermon is all right, and I believe in the resurrection, but I am afraid if he does not stop pretty soon I will not get this man buried in time.'"--_Philadelphia Ledger._

A CORRECTION.

'Twas not for want of breath he died,
But rather that he misapplied
The ample breath he had, I wot.
Before he went to bed that night
He witlessly blew out the light.
The gas escaped; the man did not.

_New York World._

WHEN THE BIG STICK WOULDN'T DO.

The following anecdote of President Roosevelt's youth is being told in England:

When Roosevelt was a student at Harvard he was required to recite a poem in public declamation. He got as far as a line which read:

"When Greece her knees in suppliance bent,"

when he stuck there.

Again he repeated,

"When Greece her knees ...," but could get no farther.

The teacher waited patiently, finally remarking:

"Grease her knees again, Roosevelt, then perhaps she'll go."

_Woman's Home Companion._

DESERVED TO LIVE.

In a rural justice court in Georgia recently an old negro, whose testimony had been questioned, said in his own defense:

"Jedge, I'm a good man. I been a-livin' roun' heah ten years. I ain't never been lynched; en de only horse I ever stoled throwed me en broke my two legs!"--_Chicago Daily News._

SENATORIAL COURTESY.

"I suppose you will bow to the will of the people," said the friend.

"Of course I will," answered Senator Sorghum; "I'll bow and take off my hat all they want me to. As long as there's no chance of their having their own way it's as little as I can do to be polite."--_Washington Evening Star._

The Nation's Conscience Fund.

For Ninety-five Years Persons Who Have Succeeded in Defrauding the
Government Have Coined Remorse into Gold and Sent It to Uncle
Sam, Who Has Received $400,000 in This Manner.

_An original article written for_ THE SCRAP BOOK.

For ninety-five years contributions from penitent people throughout America have been flowing into the government's Conscience Fund at Washington. The first contribution of this nature was received in 1811, during the administration of Madison. At the first of this year the sums received from thousands of men and women who confessed that they had defrauded the government amounted to four hundred thousand dollars.

There is a great deal of variety in the character of transgressions, and also in the sums of money turned in to the Conscience Fund. One woman, a few years ago, sent a single one-cent stamp to the Secretary of the Treasury, explaining that she had defrauded the government of that amount of postage. In marked contrast to this contribution was a draft for fourteen thousand dollars, sent to the Conscience Fund by an American living in England.

One peculiarity that is revealed by the letters of repentant citizens is the effort to disguise the identity of the writers. They frequently write in a cramped, unnatural style, or they "print" the letters as children do, or purposely mis-spell words, as is evident when wretched orthography is done in handwriting that is itself indicative of culture.

All these efforts are unnecessary, for the United States government does not divulge the names even when, occasionally, they are frankly signed by the conscience-stricken. To enable the sender to know that his contribution has reached the Conscience Fund, announcement of the amount sent and the nature of the confession is made in the newspapers of the city or town whence the letter was mailed. But no effort is made to discover the identity of the contributor.

Many of the writers are women, but they do not send so much money to the Conscience Fund as the men. Their transgressions, as a rule, involve small transactions. The largest contributions come from smugglers. The remainder is received from persons who have used canceled stamps, or who have sent first-class mail under third-class rates, or persons who have actually stolen articles from Government buildings, forts, or reservations.

Faith in Fellowmen Awakened.

A curious fact in regard to the action of many of these penitents is that, having become awakened to a sense of high ethics, their distrust of others vanishes. This is not a universal trait among the contributors to the Conscience Fund, but there have been many conspicuous examples of it.

The Treasury Department receives daily about ten thousand letters. One morning, in 1905, there was received in the mail at this department a package in manila paper, folded to resemble an ordinary official-size envelope. It bore several two-cent stamps, but no more than was necessary to carry it, and nothing whatever to indicate its contents. It was the sort of package which might be expected to contain the vouchers of some claimant or subordinate official.

When the contents were shaken out, twelve thousand dollars in paper money lay on the desk of the astonished clerk. The letter accompanying this contribution to the Conscience Fund read as follows:

HON. L.M. SHAW, Secretary of the
Treasury,

DEAR SIR:

I am sending you herewith twelve thousand dollars, which is
to go to the use of the United States government. Years ago
I defrauded the government of money, but have returned it
all, and now am paying fourfold, in accordance with the
teachings of the Scriptures. The way of the transgressor is
hard, but no one but God knows how I have suffered the
consequences, and I would seek to do a bountiful
restoration. May God pardon while the United States
government is benefited.

That letter was simply signed "A Sinner," which is a common signature to these interesting confessions.

Of an entirely different turn of mind was a penitent a few years ago, who sent in eight thousand dollars to the Conscience Fund. He tore the bills making up this sum exactly in half, and sent the first instalment to the keeper of the Conscience Fund, saying that if the government would acknowledge its receipt, he would forward the other half. True to his word, upon receipt of the Federal acknowledgment, he mailed the necessary fragments of the bills. Pieced together, these were, of course, as good as gold, and the Conscience Fund was materially increased.

To His Majesty, the President.

While the contributions and the interesting letters connected with them are the source of some merriment, the whole custom and institution is a very serious one to a majority, if not to all, the penitents. Many of the letters reveal a condition of poignant remorse. Some of them are pathetic in the genuineness and simplicity of the suffering revealed.

One letter that deeply impressed the officials of the Treasury Department was from a little girl fifteen years of age. It was during the administration of President Cleveland. The child's letter disclosed intelligence and keen regret for using two canceled postage stamps. The missive read:

TO HIS MAJESTY, PRESIDENT CLEVELAND,

DEAR PRESIDENT:

I am in a dreadful state of mind, and I thought I would
write and tell you all. About two years ago--as near as I
can remember, it was two years--I used two postage stamps
that had been used before on letters, perhaps more than two
stamps, but I can only remember of doing it twice. I did not
realize what I had done until lately. My mind is constantly
turned on that subject, and I think of it night and day.
Now, dear President, will you please forgive me, and I
promise you I will never do it again? Enclosed find cost of
three stamps. Please forgive me, for I was then but thirteen
years old, for I am heartily sorry for what I have done.

FROM ONE OF YOUR SUBJECTS.

That was from a child. Here is a letter from a woman of evident cultivation. It was dated at Roanoke, October 12, 1905, and was sent to the President of the United States. It reads:

THE HON. THEODORE ROOSEVELT,

PRESIDENT,

Enclosed you will find two dollars, which please place in
the National Treasury, as it should be there by rights. Some
time ago I made a purchase of an article and evaded paying
duty when the custom-house official came around. My
conscience has hurt me sorely, and I desire to pay the
government, and know of no better way than by sending it to
you. I am very sorry indeed to trouble you, but please help
me out of my trouble by giving the money to Uncle Sam, and
you will have the thanks and gratitude of one who is
penitent.

Prosperity Stirs the Conscience.

The sincerity displayed in all the letters is unmistakable. A few years ago many of the communications revealed a strong religious feeling. During the present period of prosperity contributions have been increasing, and it is now the opinion of some officials that many of these penitents have long been anxious to restore "to Caesar the things that are Caesar's," but that they waited until they were better able to do so.

A few weeks ago a man wrote from Kansas, stating that thirty-six years before he bought a horse from army deserters, who had stolen it from Fort Leavenworth. He paid them forty dollars for the animal, and not long afterward sold it for the same sum. He therefore made nothing out of the transaction, but the fact that he had dealt in a contraband horse had preyed steadily, he said, upon his conscience, and after the lapse of a generation he sent forty dollars to the Conscience Fund.

Just how much smuggling is carried on is a matter of interesting speculation. Last year our registered imports amounted in value to over one billion dollars. The dutiable goods amounted to considerably more than half this sum, and the duties collected aggregated no less than two hundred and seventy-seven million dollars.

In the latter part of 1905 a farmer in Michigan sent in thirty dollars as the duty which he should have paid on a horse driven across the Canadian border from Manitoba a number of years ago. This was duly credited to the Conscience Fund, and nearly a month later a second letter was received from the same penitent farmer, saying that he had decided also to pay duty on the harness (valued at seven dollars) which the horse wore and the buggy (valued at ten dollars) it hauled on the occasion of its journey across the border from Manitoba. In the second letter he enclosed six dollars and sixty-five cents for the Conscience Fund.

When John G. Carlisle was Secretary of the Treasury he received the following letter with forty dollars enclosed:

DEAR SIR:

Though I disapprove as heartily as you of the recent tariff
laws, I think it the duty of every honest man to declare
fully the value of articles subject to the same, as he can
only avoid doing so by perjuring himself. I did so when I
returned from Europe, with the exception of a few trifles,
which, if examined, would have involved the putting about
the contents of my trunk to the injury of my property. I
hope that you will use your influence to have the present
tariff laws changed. I hope this less on account of economic
ignorance which they display than because of the terrible
demoralizations which they have powerfully aided to bring
about.

The Shadow of the Great Hereafter.

From Pleasant Lake, North Dakota, came a registered letter which contained ten dollars. An accompanying note was evidently in the handwriting of a very old man. He added the pathetic postscript:

"There is a lot more due in the near future. All of us become honest as we near the Great Hereafter. I need only sign my name as 'Conscience.'"

Collectors of customs throughout the United States, and particularly along the Canadian border, frequently receive sums of money sent to them anonymously, with the request that they be forwarded to the Conscience Fund at Washington. Some of these officials state that passengers, including fashionably dressed women, come hurriedly into the office of the collector, nervously hand in sums of money to relieve their conscience, and depart without any explanation other than at some previous time they have smuggled goods into the country.

The largest sum, briefly referred to above, was for fourteen thousand two hundred and twenty-five dollars and fifteen cents. It was sent to the Conscience Fund by the Rev. Prebendary Bariff, Vicar of St. Giles' Church, Cripplegate, London, who explained that the sum was entrusted to him by a person who declined to disclose his identity, but who said that he had come into the possession of that amount by defrauding the United States government.

Some of the penitents confess to odd offenses. A Chicago man sent one dollar to the Conscience Fund with the statement that years before he had taken a small apple-tree from the government orchard at Fort Sheridan, and that he now wished to make compensation for it. A few weeks ago Secretary Shaw received a letter from the West, stating that many years before the writer had stolen two sheets and a pillow-case from an Indian school. This penitent also sent one dollar to cover the value of the stolen goods.

Five Cents From Kansas.

During the administration of the late President McKinley, a Kansas man sent five cents to the United States Treasury to be added to the Conscience Fund. His note said:

Enclosed find five cents which I wish to refund, as I used a
canceled stamp when it took three cents to send a letter.
One who wishes to lead a Christian life.

Whether large or small, the sums sent to the Conscience Fund no doubt take a great load from the spirit of the repentant ones. The following letter received by the President of the United States is typical of many. It was written by a woman, and reads:

Enclosed please find three dollars, the amount of which I
did not defraud the government of, but only a few small
coins, but I will send more to give peace to my tortured
conscience. The act was committed in childhood. Remorse has
taken hold of me, and I cannot rest. Who but God, my
Heavenly Father, has made me do this? Oh, that I may feel
that I am forgiven, for God, my Heavenly Father, knows I
would not do such a thing now. Forgive me for withholding my
name. If I were face to face with you, I would not hesitate
to tell you, but I have other reasons. Pray for me, too. May
God bless you and yours. Please do not publish this. But,
still, how am I ever to find out that you received it? I
trust the Lord will take care of it.

UNHAPPY PENITENT.

P.S.--Ezekiel 23d chap., 15th verse.

The Conscience Fund is presided over by E.B. Daskam, chief of the Division of Public Moneys. All these quaint and tragic records of the quickening of conscience in America are carefully filed away.

While a separate record is kept of the Conscience Fund, the money constituting it is placed in the Government's big vaults and becomes a part of the nation's finances. It has been suggested that an act of Congress be passed setting aside this particular fund for some national benevolence.

HOCH, DER GOVERNOR OF KANSAS.

Taken to Task by a Recalcitrant Legislature Because He Said "Set 'Em Up,"
He Talks of Things That May Happen on Resurrection Morn.

Governor Edward Wallis Hoch, of Kansas, is a big man, with a slow manner and a keen sense of humor. Born fifty-seven years ago in Kentucky, as soon as he had graduated from a freshwater college he moved westward. At twenty-five he found himself editor and proprietor of a country weekly in Kansas; and the step from journalism to politics proved an easy one.

When Hoch talks about "trust-busting" legislation he speaks quietly and seriously, with shrewdness and intelligence. At other times he is capable of enlivening the dull routine of official work with a touch of unconventional pleasantry. During the recent legislative eruption at Topeka one of the more impetuous representatives introduced a bill which had already been passed. The Governor vetoed it, remarking that it was up to the representative to "set 'em up."

A member of the opposition, thinking that this was a dangerous expression for the Governor of a prohibition State to use, had a resolution adopted calling on the Governor to explain. Governor Hoch was extremely busy, but he disentangled his signing hand from the pile of bills before him long enough to dash off the following reply:

To the Senate--I am in receipt of Senate Resolution No. 40,
introduced by the Senator from Atchison County, requesting
me to explain what was meant by the term "set 'em up," as
used in my veto message of Senate Bill No. 341. This
expression, used playfully, and without having any
particular meaning, and possibly hardly comporting with the
dignity of your body, seems to have had, if not a good, at
least an unexpected effect, in that it has caused the
emaciated corpse of the Kansas Democracy to take on the
semblance of life and sit up and take notice.

The belief in miracles is here strengthened by absolute
proof, showing that the proper call will restore animation
to the dead. If the Angel Gabriel, standing with one foot on
land and one on sea, were to blow such a blast from his
trumpet that the mountains should rock to their bases, the
Democratic party of Kansas would probably sleep on
undisturbed, but if he were even to whisper the magic words
"set 'em up," the grave of this moribund organization would
give up its dead, and from the entire aggregation, headed by
the talented and handsome Senator from Atchison, would come
the answer in swelling chorus, "We will take the same."

E.W. HOCH, Governor.

ALL KINDS OF THINGS.

Curious Letters That Enliven the Prosaic Records of the
United States Post-Office Department--The Human Nose as a
Sign-Board of Character--The Origin of Lynch Law--Amusing
Extracts From Old-Time Newspapers--The First Self-Made
American--The Comparative Longevity of Various
Callings--With Other Interesting Items From Many Sources.

HUMOROUS SIDE OF THE POSTAL SERVICE.

ILLITERACY OF RURAL OFFICIALS.

Fourth-Class Postmasters Sometimes
Write Queer Letters, Telling Their
Troubles to the Department.

The eagerness with which fourth-class postmasterships are sought seems strange when one remembers that the salaries are small and the duties often exacting. No fourth-class postmaster receives more than a thousand dollars a year. More than half of them receive less than a hundred dollars a year; fourteen thousand receive less than fifty dollars a year; and hundreds of them receive ten or twelve dollars a year.

Henry A. Castle, former auditor for the Post-Office Department, recently contributed to the _Sunday Magazine_ an article filled with curious information concerning the fourth-class postmaster and his idiosyncrasies. Here, for example, is a facetious letter from an Illinois postmaster who for some time had been vainly trying to resign:

But anyhow, this time I am unanimously through fiddling
about it, and this here 'leventh and last resignation of
mine has got to be accepted, let the chips fall where they
may. Along about four o'clock this afternoon a passel of our
best citizens informed me in no uncertain tones that if I
wasn't up and gone by midnight they 'lowed to tar and
feather and rail-ride me out of our law-abidin' little city,
for a small matter that it ain't necessary for me to go into
details at present; and a spell ago a friend let me know
that they had reconsidered to the extent of decidin' to make
it nine o'clock instead of midnight, and were already
a-bilin' of the tar.

So you can see for yourself that it is high time for me to
step down and out. No more at present from

Yours truly,

T.J. WACKERBACK.

P.S.--It's eight-forty-two right now, and I'm gone.

An Arkansas postmaster expressed as follows his delight in his appointment:

I feel honored, as in duty bound, by my appointment, and am
glad to know, the salary is to be the same as heretofore,
namely, nothing a year; for I'd hate like thunder to pay
anything.

Illiteracy is not uncommon among the postmasters. Mr. Castle quotes a letter from a Southern ex-postmaster, presumably a negro:

P.M. generall Sir, I have a complaint against the citty of
gilead the police crippled me. In 1901 committ no offense
and the city fathers there humbugged me, and drove me out of
town contrary to the laws of christ, moses, and the profets,
and all nations, tribes, and clans.

So i pray you to lift your finger and do something about it,
i want to get paid for my property. I was up in tenicee to
beg the price of a suit of clows but i am back now and want
them to settle that claim with me.

P.S.--i tried to get before the last Congris and i got in
the workhouse.

And again, here is a letter from a local official who dreads the invasion of rural free delivery:

Poastmaster General, Sir as this Tock of Rheual free
Delivery has Got up heare and so many is Dissathisfide is
the cause of the Patrishon Being sent you and if you will
Nodes, you will See that Several Names Appear on Boath
Patrishons and About Nine out of Every Ten that Assign for
Rheual Free Delivery Mail Surves is Dissathisfide and doant
want hit and Ses they wars Fool and Lyde in to sign the
Patrishon for Rheual Free Delivery.

The ignorance and illiteracy of these postmasters is not typical. The cases are really exceptional. Yet there are many official eccentricities. There is, for example, the old story of postmasters who persistently peruse private postal cards--and this propensity is so common, or is supposed to be so common, that it has even been celebrated in verse:

In a village post-office Miss Peek
Had a job at six dollars a week;
But she near had a fit
And threatened to quit
When a postal came written in Greek.

A MAN'S CHARACTER IS AS HIS NOSE IS.

SIZE AND SHAPE ARE SIGNIFICANT.

He Who Knows His Nose May Quickly
Determine Whether His Traits Are
Those of Greatness or Mediocrity.

The nose, according to physiognomists, is one of the most important features. It tells its story of character like the eye and the mouth. Its size and its shape have their significance. Studying the faces of men and women prominent in past history the following interpretation of the language of noses has been made:

The Roman nose denotes a propensity for adventure.

A wide nose with open nostrils is a mark of great
sensuality.

A cleft nose shows benevolence; it was the nose of St.
Vincent de Paul.

A straight nose denotes a just, serious, fine, judicious,
and energetic mind.

The curved, fleshy nose is a mark of domination and cruelty;
Catharine de' Medici and Elizabeth of England had noses of
this kind.

The curved, thin nose is a mark of a brilliant mind, but
vain, and disposed to be ironical; it is the nose of a
dreamer, a poet, or a critic.

It is desirable that the nose should be as long as possible,
this being a sign of power and genius; for instance,
Napoleon and Caesar had long noses.

If the line of the nose be reentrant--that is, if the nose
is turned up--it denotes that its owner has a weak mind,
sometimes coarse, and generally playful, pleasant, or
frolicsome.

SUPPOSED ORIGIN OF AMERICAN LYNCH LAW.

ROUGH JUSTICE IN OLD VIRGINIA.

The Phrase Probably Arose from the
Administration of Off-Hand Judgments
of a Colonial Planter.

The application of summary punishment without authority of law is known in our country as Lynch law. The origin of the term is somewhat obscure. Here is one explanation:

Lynch law takes its name from the stern and summary act of
one James Lynch Fitz-Stephen, a merchant of the Irish town
of Galway, and, in 1526, its mayor or warden. The son of
this Lynch Fitz-Stephen, having committed a foul murder, his
father, exercising his authority as warden, had him arrested
and brought for trial before himself.

The father, on conviction, Brutus-like, sentenced the son to
death, and fearing a rescue from the prison, caused him to
be brought home and to be hanged before his own door.

More or less apocryphal is this story from Ireland. The explanation most generally accepted refers the term back to a planter who lived in what is now known as the Piedmont country of Virginia.

At the time his district was the western frontier, and
having no law of its own, and being seven miles from the
nearest court of criminal jurisdiction, controversies were
constantly referred to men of sound judgment and
impartiality, whose decisions were regarded as final.

Prominent among these was Charles Lynch. His awards
exhibited so much justice, judgment, and impartiality, that
he was known throughout the country as Judge Lynch.

In the course of time criminals were brought before him, and
he awarded such punishment as he considered just and
proper.