182 
MOOBE’S BUBAL NEW-YORKER. 
SEPT. 7 
“ Dear Sir :—I have received a telegram 
to join my wife, who is sick. T therefore leave 
without ceremony. Accept tins a* an excuse 
for the sudden depart ure of yours, &c., 
“A. Duneeath." 
“Ah, Dial Is sad,’’ said one of the brethren as 
Mr. Redmond read the note aloud. 
“ Where did you see the gentleman when he 
gave you this?" asked Mr. Redmond of the boy. 
“About four miles South, on the new road.” 
“ Which way was he going'/” 
“Straight on South. And he seemed to be in 
an awful hurry.” 
“ Did he appear to he troubled ? ” 
“ No, sir, lie was laughing.” 
“ Laughing/" 
“ Laughing!" 
The exclamation came in surprised accents 
from several. 
“ Ho wrote it quick and then started on again.” 
“ He must have been going on to Whurfton to 
take the steamer down the river,” said a minis¬ 
ter standing near. 
“That i« fuli eight miles," said Mr. Redmond. 
“Is it/ Rut lie may have thought he could 
walk it quicker titan ho could find any one to 
drive him there.” 
“ That may he. Hut the boy said he was 
laughing." 
“Pshaw! the hoy was mistaken. He couldn't 
have been laughing." 
This explanation of affairs was accepted, and 
the meeting went on. All soon became deeply 
absorbed in listening to the words of the ex- 
horters. 
In the midst of the exercises Mr. Redmond, 
who had not dismissed all anxiety on account 
of Mr. Duneeath, suddenly startednsa thought 
passed through his mind. 
“ Brother Ri.uk ins," he whispered to one who 
sat near him, “see here a moment,” 
The two made their way softly outside the 
little throng, and Mr. Redmond said: 
“There is something wrong about Mr. Dun- 
eeath'k absence." 
“ HowZ" 
“ The note said that he had a telegram from 
his wife. But there ix no telegraph line 'Within 
eight milex of here'.'' 
“That’s true! How thoughtless wo wore. 
How could wo he so imposed upon? What can 
it mean V ” 
“That’s the question. And the boy said Mr. 
Duneeatii was laughing.” 
“ But that is absurd." 
“Of course it is. But that doesn't help mat¬ 
ters any. There is some mystery about it.” 
“ Yes—a telegram from his wile with no tele¬ 
graph station near and then to think of his 
laughing while sending such news.” 
“ It can't he that ho is playing a joke on us.” 
“ He would lie the last man ill the world to do 
that.” 
“So I should think,” said Mr. Redmond. “It 
is very strange. I am afraid there has been foul 
play somewhere." 
“It: certainly looks like it.” 
“1 am not satisfied,” said Mr. Redmond, de¬ 
cidedly. “ 1 shall take a party of men and go in 
search of him immediately. The very mystery 
of the tiling alarms me." 
In a short time Mr. Redmond had induced 
five of his neighbors to join him on an expedi¬ 
tion through the woods to search for Mr. I)un- 
eeath, or any trace Hull might indicate his 
whereabouts. They provided themselves with 
live torches and rifles. The first tiling to be 
done was to convey Mrs. Redmond and Fanny 
home, so that they might make ready for the 
reception of the party when it should return. 
The men walked in the rear of the wagon in 
which the two women rode, discussing the best 
manner of proceeding. 
It was finally decided that when they arrived 
within quarter of a milnof the house I he search¬ 
ing party should branch off by a shortcut to 
the forest, leaving Mrs. Redmond and Fanny 
to go on. The night was bright and clear. In¬ 
dians wore scarcely ever seen within a circuit of 
several miles, and no danger was apprehended. 
So on arriving at the point mentioned the 
men branched off toward the woods and t he two 
women proceeded alone toward their destina¬ 
tion. The house was In plain sight, and, with a 
cheerful word, they urged their horses to a 
quick pace. As they neared thi house every¬ 
thing seemed quiet, and they watched for Sam. 
He would undoubtedly hear the wagon ap¬ 
proaching, and come forth to meet them. 
But they saw nothing of him. They came 
within five or six rods of the bouse, and still he 
was not visible. 'Evidently he had fallen asleep. 
They were just about to call out, when a tigurc 
leaped from a clump of bushes near by, utter¬ 
ing a glad cry. 
“ Misses Redmond ami Miss Fanny, is dat 
you ? T’atik de Lor’ you’se come; but don’t go 
near de house!" 
It was Sam. He was shaking as if with an 
ague fit, and his eyes were distended almost to 
starting from their sockets. The whiles of them 
glistened in the moonlight. 
“ W hat’s the matter, Sam/’’ said Mrs. Red¬ 
mond ; “ what are you talking about ? ” 
" Be ghost! do ghost! It went clean froodc 
window, widout so much as crackin’ de sasli! ” 
“ What do you mean Z ” 
“ 1 seed it! It come stalkin’ across de lot, and 
jest glade Into do house.” 
“A ghost?- nonsense!” exclaimed Fanny. 
“ Who believes in ghosts? I don’t.” 
“Dat’s ’cause you uebber seed none," re¬ 
sponded Sam. " You ha’nt been where I has. 
Oh, it was more'n eight feet tall, and all dressed 
in white.” 
Sam iv as evidently in earnest. He looked the 
embodiment of terror. 
But Mrs. Redmond and Fanny scoffed at his 
fears, and told him ho had been dreaming. This 
lie stoutly denied, saying that lie had not even 
closed his eyes. He Insisted that a ghost had 
appeared, approached the house, and entered 
by a window. 
“ Which window was i( ? ” asked Fann y. 
“ Dat. one rigid dere next to de side door.” 
“ Well, I'm qot afraid of any ghost," she said, 
spiritedly. “ Come, Sam, with me, and we will 
see what it wants." 
She discredited Sam's story, and, as every¬ 
thing seemed quiet about the house, felt little 
or no alarm. 
“oli, Miss Fanny, you don't mean to ask dig 
chile-" 
“ Yes, I do. But if you are afraid, I shall go 
alone. And then if it should happen to be an 
Indian or a robber, what will become of me?" 
"Ingin or robber," said 8am, brightening up 
a little; “I ben’t ’fraid o' dean. Bey shan't harm 
one har oh your head, neither. I'il go wid you 
if you’se bound to go." 
" I am bound to go. 1 don't propose to stand 
out all night.” 
“ All right, “said 8am, “go ahead, i’llkeep 
close to you. But if we xhauld run smack up 
agin’a ghost, I'se sure I’d melt down and run 
all over de ground, jest like a puddle o’ grease." 
“ Let’s find out, any way," said Fanny, lead¬ 
ing tin- way, followed by her mother mid 8AM, 
the latter holding his ritle ready for instant ac¬ 
tion. 
They approached very near the house, and 
were looking intently at the windows, when 
8am suddenly gave a cry of terror and dropped 
flat Oil the ground. Mrs. Redmond iind Fanny 
started mid recoiled a little, for a l'aco peered 
out from the window at them, and an arm clad 
in white waved, motioning them to keep back. 
A voice spoke: 
“ For heaven’s sake don’t come in !" 
Fanny and Mi's. Redmond were somewhat 
frightened, and the the former said angrily : 
“Come, get up, 8am! There’s some one in 
there, but it's no ghost. Ghosts do not talk. 
Get. your rifle ready, quick !" 
*’ Yes," said 8 am, rising cautiously ; “’taint no 
ghost, did you say? " 
“WO certainly not. Who are you and what 
do you want,” she demanded in a loud voice of 
the unknown personage inside. 
Sam leveled his rifle, and shouted, ’> What you 
’bout in dnr? You'd better keep kind o' 
peaceable unless you want to get shot I” 
" Don’t you know me?" groaned the voice. 
“ Don't, come in, I beg of you. I am in a terri¬ 
ble plight. I have been shamefully treated, i 
cannot Hud mv room." 
“ Itis Mr. Duneeath ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Rkd- 
►mond. 
“So it is!" ejaculated Fanny. “What can 
he t he matter ? What, is the trouble, Mr. Dt n- 
EKATH?" 
“I I please reiimln where you are. 1 can¬ 
not tell you what the matter is. Send 8am in 
and let him show me my room. Here arc two 
doors locked. I think one of them must lead 
to it.” 
" Yes,” said Fanny, “mother you locked the 
chamber doors, didn't you?” 
"Yes," replied Mrs Redmond; “Sam, lake 
those keys mid show Mr. DunebAth his room. 
1 wonder what ran be the matter.” 
“ It will doubtless be explained in due season. 
Madam," faltered Mr. Duneeath. “1 have 
been assaulted maltreated — robbed. Please 
make haste, Sam." 
“ Yes, sir,”responded Sam, “if you ain’t no 
ghost, I'll do anything in the world lor you, Mr. 
Duneeath." 
“ I will show you that I am substantial flesh 
and blood if you will come in. Do not follow 
him, ladies.” 
Sam entered the house, and immediately burst 
into a shoutpt' laughter. 
“Golly, Mr. Duneeath, where’s all your 
clothes? You i .s in a bad plight!” 
“Hush! Show me to my room without de¬ 
lay!" 
“ Mrs. REDMONuand Fanny listened in amaze¬ 
ment. They heard Sam talking and laughing 
spasmodically as he accompanied Mr. Dunleatu 
up stairs. 
He soon returned. 
“i'll lie dune roasted alive," he exclaimed, 
“if derewarn’t de parson widout a rag to his 
back, savin’ and ’xceptin' only jest his shirt!” 
“ Oh!" 
“True as I'm standin' here dis minnit!” 
“What can it all mean?” exclaimed Mrs. 
Redmond. 
“He said he had been robbed," said Fanny. 
“Sam, fire off your gun several times. That 
may call the men home. There is no need of 
their searching any longer." 
Sam did as directed, while Mrs. Redmond and 
Fanny entered the house and struck a light. 
They were perplexed beyond measure, and 
waited for Mr. Diweeatii to come down. That 
gentleman declared, however, from the head of 
the stairs, that the state of his feelings would 
not permit him to appear before them, even 
though he had donned Ids clothes. 
In the course of threo-qurrtors of an hour the 
searching party appeared, having been attract¬ 
ed by the reports of Sam's gun. They came up 
in great baste, desirous of knowing the cause of 
the firing. 
They were made acquainted with the state of 
affairs in a very few words, and, of course, were 
deeply mystified. Mr. Redmond ascended the 
stairs, and, al ter considerable effort, persuaded 
Mr. Duneeath to come down and explain mat¬ 
ters. The minister soon appeared, and related 
i to his expectant bearers the following account 
1 of liis unexplained absence mid strange return : 
“I was wandering among the woods," hosald, 
"and took no thought of the passage of time or 
the distance I had stray ed. Suddenly I encount¬ 
ered a desperate looking man, who pounced 
upon me with the-ferocity of a wild beast. He 
held in his band a large club, and threatened 
me with instant death unless I remained quiet. 
“ What do you want ? " I asked. 
“ 'Tell me who you are, where you come from 
and what your business Is' he said. 
“1 gave him the desired information in as few 
words as possible, lie was particular to inquire 
my name and that of (lie good family with 
whom I am sojourning. After t in's he looked at 
me closely, and then said, ‘ You'll do!' 
"He then violently tore my clothing from 
me, took off his own disgusting garb and clad 
himself In my garments. I endeavored to re¬ 
monstrate with him, but he brandished his club 
and commanded me to keep silent . 
“ * Now,’ said lie, ’ 1 guess you are not in a con¬ 
dition to join your friends until after dark, at 
any rate, and that will give uie a pretty good 
start.' 
"When I asked him to give a reason for his 
strange conduct, lie said that his own clothes 
wore not fashionable, and that, mine would 
serve his purpose better. Rut he did not leave 
me his. He rolled them up and carried them off. 
leaving me in a clump of undergrowth with 
nothingon Imt a shirt." Mr. Duneeath blushed 
violently. His hearers listened with intense in¬ 
terest. 
“Of course," resumed the speaker, “ I could 
not return in that condition until after dark, 
and it seems that when I did come, 8am mistook 
mo for a ghost, mid fled. T climbed in at the 
window, knowing that all would be away at the 
camp-meeting. I endeavored to find my room, 
but the door was locked. Finally Mrs. Rkomomi 
and Fanny cauie, amt induced Sam to cuter and 
aid me. That is all. I never, In the course of my 
life, experienced such outrageous treatment! " 
The last remark was delivered in an energetic, 
injured tone, after which Mr. Dunlkatii sub¬ 
sided into silence, 
“Did you not write this?” asked Mr. Red¬ 
mond, producing the note which the hoy had 
brought to the grove. 
“I never saw It before,” lie replied, in a de¬ 
cided tone. “ It is a base forgery." 
All shared In Mr. Duneeath's indignation, 
but some could not help smiling at. thesorrj 
plight in which he had found himself. 
“ Dow was the man dressed Who robbed you?” 
asked one of the company. 
“His clothes were gray, with black stripes, 
and were sadly tattered." 
“I have it!" exclaimed Mr. Redmond. “A 
prisoner has escaped! " 
“A prisoner?” 
“Yes. The State Prison is only twelve miles 
down the river. One of the convicts must have 
escaped mid made his way up here through the 
woods. At least I Judge so from his dress." 
“Yes!" said another, “and ho probably 
thought he would be 111 less danger of being 
taken with Mr. Diineeatii’s clothes on.” 
“To be sure," exclaimed a third. “And he 
sent the note, thinking it would prevent our 
searching for Mr. Duneeath." 
These conclusions were accepted by all, and it 
was agreed to take speedy measures to recap¬ 
ture the culprit, 
“Somebody must mount a horse and ride to 
Wharfton immediately,” said ono. 
“ Yes, let two go to WhaiTton,” said Mr. Red¬ 
mond, "Imt let also another precaution lie 
taken. Tito convict must liavo known that his 
forgery would eventually he discovered, mid lie 
would be very likely to turn back north again 
after throwing the scent toward Wharfton. We 
will start out and scour the woods early in the 
morning.” 
The course thus indicated was followed. The 
result proved Mr. Redmond's surmise to he 
correct. The prisoner was captured in the 
woods seven miles in a north westerly direction. 
He looked sorry enough when taken, but boast¬ 
ed of his ingenious dodge, even though it had 
tailed. He was safely ensconced again within 
the prison walls. Mr. Duneeath was careful 
I hereafter about > enturing alone into unknown 
regions; nor was he ever known again to per¬ 
sonate a ghost. 
-♦-*-*- 
JUDGE DALY RIGHTLY NAMED. 
Judge Daey, who sits as presiding Justice of 
the Court of Common Picas in New York City, 
is a lawyer of rare culture, a gentleman or dig¬ 
nity and grace, and a handsome, stern-visaged 
man. He is withal a man of much humor, and 
is said to have told about himself this story, 
which will be better understood when it is pre¬ 
mised that his ceiyrt has always had the reputa¬ 
tion of “ taking things easy," and its Judges of 
not being over particular to ho in court any too 
promptly at the hour of opening. 
“One morning," says Judge Daly, “I was 
coming into court a little late, when I heard one 
man standing at a little distance say to another 
(he may have been a witness anxious to get 
away, or a juror zealously desirous to get to 
work, or perhaps a client weary of the law’s de¬ 
lay, but whatever else he was, he certainly was 
an Irishman). 
Och, sure there comes his Honor at last! Be 
jabera, Judge Dr-lay, ye'r rightly named!’ ” 
A STRANGER IN TflE PEW. 
Rook little Hassle! she tosscrl back her curls, 
And though site ts often the sweetest of girls. 
This was something she Couldn't and wouldn’t en¬ 
dure i 
'Twas the meanest., most impolite art. she was sure. 
And a tiling, she doelarod, tliat Do never would do: 
Togo to a church where one didn't belong, 
Then walk down the aisle like tile best in the throng, 
And sent oneself plump In another one's pew. 
Humph ! Didn’t her rattier own his out and out, 
And didn't they till it up full, just about. 
When uia hi nut arid pupa, anil herself and the boys. 
Were seated ? And didn’t their bouts make a noise 
In moving along to make room for a stranger i 
And wasn't it cool, with the brazenost face, 
To expect at each hymn pa would find out the place. 
(If Hen didn't, or Hob, hut there wasn’t much 
danger!) 
With such feelings at heart, and their print on tier 
face, 
f'list Sunday our Resale hitched out of her “ place ” 
To make room tor a girl, very shabby and thin. 
W ho had stood in the aisle till niaiuinii asked tier in. 
The poor little, thing tried lier la st not to crowd; 
And Bessie, forgetting, soon had the 111011111 ) 
To slip from her drowsiness into a nap, 
From which she awakened by crying aloud. 
Poor Bessie sat upright, with cheeks ail aflame 
At. sleeping in church, unit wo felt for her shainc ; 
Rut ’twas strange at the close of the service lo see, 
Our Bessie, muv gentle, us gentle could he. 
Take the hand of the shabby young girl in the rew. 
And walk with her out of the church with a smile 
That shone through the tears in her eyes all the 
while, 
And brightened her face with a radiance new. 
" Good-by," whispered Bessie at parting, “ and mind 
Our pew’s forty-Bve, with a pillar behind." 
Then she stole to her mother: "Oil, mother, I 
dreamed 
Sueh 11 eui'loua dream ! 'Twas no wonder I screamed. 
1 thought I was sitting In church In this dress, 
With a girl like a beggar child right in our pew— 
We were sitting alone on the seat, just wo two— 
And 1 felt more ashamed than you ever could 
guess; 
“ When, all in u moment, the music grew loud, 
And on It came floating a beautiful crowd ; 
They were angels, t knew, for they Joined in the 
song, 
And all of them seemed in the church to belong. 
Slowly and brightly they sailed through the air; 
The rays from the window streamed crimson and 
hi lie. 
And lit them in turn as their forms glided through ; 
1 could feel their soft robes passing over my hair. 
“One came to ray side. Very sadly she sai(V 
' There's a stranger In here.’ 1 lifted my head, 
And looked at the poor, shabby girl with disdain. 
"Tis not she,’ said the angel; * the haughty and vain 
Are the strangers at church. She is humble and 
true.’ 
Then 1 cried out aloud and the minister spoke, 
And just as they floated away i awoke. 
And there sat that dear little girl in our pew !” 
Massa CmtiSTOPHER Columbus was a queer 
man," said a negro orator: “a notion crossed 
him one day, and den he crossed an ocean.” 
EVERY-DAY TROUBLES. 
Whenever 1 feel inclined to think my own 
lot ImrdcsL of all, my mind instantly reverts to 
[ a friend—a brave young girl— whoso troubles 
have boon real ones, and so very many in num¬ 
ber, and varied in quality, as to bo remarkable. 
And yet she is cheerful, always full of i'aitli in 
GUP’s mercies and loving kindness. 
Dia lute letter she writes as follows:—“My 
little ‘ Daily Food ’ opened to-day at one of its 
many land-marks. Six years ago I knew before 
night all would be decided—my life filled with 
rich gladness or shrouded In thick dwrkness. I 
opened the* lit,lie book, hoping to find in tho 
verse for the morning mi augury for good. It 
was ‘ Ax one whom Mx mother annforteth ’-1 
only glanced at it, and threw the book impa¬ 
tiently from me. It was not comfort, but .happi- 
ftc«, that I wanted. Before noon the blow fell, 
crushing out of my life forever, as I then 
thought, all that was glad and sweet. Oh God ! 
how much t he heart can suffer and not break ! 
I cannot teil you how the day dragged on with 
Ita weary weight. At night my eyes fell upon 
the tiny book, lying whore I had thrown it in 
the morning. Again i opened it almost me¬ 
chanically, and to the mine te.rt , but like a ray 
from Heaven, now camo the words—‘As one 
wham hix mother roillfmirth so will l Comfort you.' 
They were balm to my bruised heart—gently, 
like a loving hund soothing away its bitterness, 
till the tears, which had seemed burnt up all 
day, dropped like rain on the page." 
M. A. E. W. 
-- 
THOUGHT-SUGGESTING PARAGRAPHS. 
It' there be a spiritual world It ought to be 
“ minded.” Its bearings on this world ought to 
bo regarded. 1 1 is the widest field for human in¬ 
vestigation. If it have any oxlstencu it is su¬ 
pernal and paramount. To be in the midst of a 
Spiritual world and not know* it, is to be blind. 
To perceive it in any measure, and totally disre¬ 
gard it in all one’s habits of thought and feeling 
and action is not philosophy- it is sheer mad¬ 
ness. 
No mind loses its balance so long ns it per¬ 
ceives that the Lord is at hand to help. The 
clouds may gather and the storm may burst, but 
the Lord is at hand. There may come circum¬ 
stances in our history which seem to contradict 
truth and God, and all our hopes and instincts, 
SO that the feet of our minds do well-nigh slip. 
But the Lord is at hand. 
