Maryland free press., 1866-11-22
NUMBER 80
THE REJECTED BANK NOTE.

"what is the price of this dressing gown
sir?'' asked sweet faced girl, entering the ele-
giant store of Huutley & Warner, in a-city, and
a street Of city; which shall be nameless.
1t was a cloudy day. The clerks lounged over
the counter and yawned. The man to whom
Alice Loke addressed herself was jaunty and
middle-aged. He was head clerk of the extern
sivc establishment of 9un'ley & Warner, and ex-
trcmely consequential-in manner.
"This dressing gown we value at six dollars
you shall have it at Eve, trade is dull to-day"
give dollarsl'' Alice locked at the dres sing
gown, longingly, and the clerk looked at her,
He saw that her clothes though made and
worn genteely, ,gwere commen enough in texture,
and tha.her face was very much out Of the COM
mon line. How it changed! now shaded, now
lighted, by the varied play of her emotions. The
clerk could almost have sworn that she had no
more than that sum, five dollars, in her posses
sion. ~ '.'l- .-...
The gown was a very good one for the price.
1t was of common shade, tolerable merino, and
lined with the sama material. ....,,t
81 think"-she hesitated msment, think
I'll take it, she said; then seeing in the face be-
fore her an expression she did not like, she bnsh-
ed as she handed out the bill the clerk had made
up his mind to take -.~
"Jennis,' cried Torrent, the head clerk, in
quick, pompous tone, pass up the bank note de-
tector. .'t
Up ran the tow headed boy with the detecter,
and down ran the clerks eye from column to col
umn. Then he looked over with sharp glance
and exclaimed:
''Thats counterfeit bill, Miss"
"Counterfeiti Oh, not cannot be! The
man who sent it could not have been so careless;
you must be mistaken sir.'
81 an not mistaken; I'm never mistaken, Miss.
This bill is a counterfeit. I must presume Of
course, that you did not know 1t, although SO
much bad money has been offered us Of late that
we intend to secure such persons as pass it. Who
did you say sent it?!' Wabash
''Mr. G.. sir, of New York. He could
not send me bad money" said the trembling,
frightened girl. Jar @
Humphl said the clerk. 'Well there 10 no
doubt about this; you can look for yourself
Now don't let me see you here again until you
such persons as you that come on dark days with
q well made story" ..e.'.l'G 8. 70.
"But sir-n .,' t..... +. "a ....
"You need make no ordinations. Mise, said
the man insultiagly. Take your BILL and next
time you want to buy dressing gown, don't try
to pass your counterfeit money" and as he hand
ed IT, the bill fell from his hands. r..I
AEoo o.nnht ,fro,, the ,or al hnrr tad In
to the street. -.....a .a...t...f..s
Such shock the girl had never received. She
hurried to banking establishment, found her
way in, and presented the note to noble look
ing man with gray hair faltcring out, is this bin
| bad one sir? --. -.t .-..i a.r...
The cashier and his son happened to be the on
ly persons present. Both noticed her extreme
youth, be auty, and agitation. +. ' "'.
The cashier looked closely and handed il pack
as with polite bow and somewhat prolonged
look, he said: .n .,.rs
"It's good bill, young lady"
knew it was, cried Alice, with a quivering
| lip-'and he dared f4 "'
She could go no farther, but entirely over
come, she bent her head and the not tears had
their way. .t.--r- .,.--
'I beg pardos; have you had any trouble with
it?' asked the cashier.
"Oh, sir, you will excuse me for giving way To
my fcclings-but you spoke SO kindly, and | fel,
so sure that it was good. And think sir, such
men as one of the clerks in Huntey & Warner
should be removed. He told me it was counter
felt, and added something that am glad my
father did not hear. knew the publisher would
not send me bad money! ta
."Who is your father, young lady2'' asked the
cashier, becoming interest cd. ..,J
"Mr. Ben jamin Lock, SIR"
"Benjamin-Ben. Lock e-was he ever clerk
in the Navy Department at Washington. .' H.
Yes sir, weremoved from there, replied Alice
'tSince then''-she hesitsted-he has not sbeen
welI-and we are somewhat reduced. Oh. why
do tell these things sir?
"Ben. Locke, reduccd!" r,urmured the CASH
Ter; .'the man who was the making of mel Give
me his number and street my child. Your f,th-
er was one Of the estperhaps tho only friend /
had. 1 have not forgotten him. No. 4 Liberty
street. Twill call this evening. Meantime let
me have the bili-let me 'see-l'll give you an
other. Since come to look, I havn't got five
here's q ten, II make it all right. rc5'
That evening ths inmates of shabby genteel
house received the cashier of the M---Bank,
Mr.. Locke, mar of grey hair, rose from his
arm chair, and much affected, greeted the hmil-
lar face. The son of the cashier accompanied
him, and while the elders talked together, Alice
and the young man grew quite chatty. rst
eyes sir, have been unfortunate" said Mr..
Locke in low tone. Ihave just recovered as
you see, from rheumatic fever, caused by undue
cxertion--aDd had it not been for that sweet girl
of mine, know not what I should have done.
She, By giving lessons in music and French and
by writing fol, periodicals; have kept me, SO far
above want"
You shall not want, my old friend, said the
cashier. tIt was q kind Providence that sent
vour daughter to me. Theresa place in the
bank just made vacant By death Of q valuable
clerk, and it is at your disposal. 1t is my gift
and valued at twelve huud -ad year. N''ii'-
Pen cannot describe the joy with which this
| Lii, "a nfaI