Cincinnati daily press. [volume] (Cincinnati [Ohio]) 1860-1862, 1860-09-17

Ludicrous Blunder OF Rustlc-A Churm.
ing Coincidence Mistaken for q snns
summary BURGLAR. WAX fH HTrr
Rather an amusing incident occurred a
night or two since at the Spencer House,
which, In consideration of The heroine Of the
hour, we are prompted to relate, even at the
expense of entirely marring the story, told
somewhat after this fashion:
A rather elderly. and very nervous man,
from the rural regions stopped at the Spen-
Ger, and, having often heard that Cincinnati
was desperate place, felt great fear lest he
should be robbed Notwithstanding he had
deposited his few valuables in the safe in the
office the very moment of his arrival.
AT rather early hour he retired, but
could not rest with any degree of composure
or comfort, because, whenever he closed his
eyes to sleep, he had visions of robberies,
burglaries and assassinations of countless
varieties, and would start up, with damp
brow and trembling limbs, to confront the
phantom of his own brain. For three NOR
tai hours our hero lay in an agony Of doubt;
and at last could not again close his orbs, so
many horrid shapes had thrust themselves
between their distended lids.
In this condition he heard some one in the
adjoining apartment uttering words like
these:
'.Midnight has fallen on this silent sphere,
dhe ~ deep, drear hour arrived, that fits the soul
vi man TO HnAtCn the danger and the torch,
And murder spread with coufagrRtion dire"
a groan that the rustic could not repress
escaped his breast, and again his famished
ears drank in the solemn utterance:
Prepare thyself, predestind wretch, prepare,
To meet the fate that, awful, hens thee round,
Stir not, shrek not Not ali the power Of Heaven
Can shut thee from thy doom. All hush'd, come
AS plague upon the ravens wing"
A fearful pause, during which the i'm
agined 'predestin'd wretch" could hear his
heart beat. The voice ceased, but a soft,
wary, assassin-like step crept along the cor
ridor.
The frightened fellow believed that in
another moment he would be lying with a
stiletto through his breast. Desperation
gave him momentary courage. He leaped
from his couch, and drawing a huge horse
pistol from beneath his pillow, again bent
his ear to the key-hole. The step was i'm
mediately opposite the door. Should he be
murdered, he thought, in his own room,
without an effort at self-defense. No, he
must make a struggle; perhaps he could
Illustrate the deadly design.
In another moment he had pulled open
the door, and was in the corridor. He saw
figure before him; he did not pause to scan
it closely, but thinking if clasped it could
not use weapons, he threw his arms about
the tergiversated form as if he were hugging
Titanic giant.
A little shrek escaped from the little fig
ure in his embrace, and little face, beauti-
| full through its alarm and confusion, was
turned TO his, as q sweet all-trembling voice
exclaimed
"Great Heaven, you would not harm mel''
The horse-pistol dropped; the mans arms
| fell away, as he exclaimed, slowly recovering
| his terrified senses: "Why you, you, are
amt no burglar-er nor, nor murderer"
"I2 A what2'
| tBurglarer or murderer -.s ......
| "Bless your SOUL Pm"- s..
| "What, what, tell me what2"
| 'Maggie Mitchell"
| "What, little Maggie that makes every
body laugh, and that all the young men fal
in love WITH"
81 don't know about that" said the petit,
comedienne; now laughing in spite of her.
self; "but I'm Maggie Mitchell, and no one
else; at your service, sir" accompanying the
words with ''Kathie O'Shier courtesy that
was quite inimitabe.
30, beautiful Miss, beg a thousand, thou.
sand pardons," and the countryman fell or
his knees before the arch and pretty damse
to ask her pardon.
With her quick intelligence, she saw a
once how the error had been made, and re
treated laughing to her apartment.
She had been reading from some tragedy
of which species of drama she is very fond
we understand, after her return from tn,
theater, and being unable to sleep, and rest
less had concluded to walk up and dowr
the hall for a minute or two to quiet he
nerves and calm her mind, preparatory tt
retiring for the night In this laudable pur
pose, Maggie had been mistaken for burgla
and narrowly escaped the contents Of
horse-pistol. But alrs well that ends well
and what is not tragedy proves often, q
in this instance, pleasant farce.
There is some thing droll in the idea q
supposing the pretty little Maggie burglar
vastly more SO, even, than mistaking "0live
Twist" for "a ahouse-breaker. The damages sh
will de-her admirers think-will be t
hearts,, not houses; her cruelty be fel
through the gentle avenues of love, no
through the fatal bullet and the stabbin
steel.