Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1879-03-06
MINNIE TRAINERS RESCUE.

}
Sentenced.
II cannot do it any more
Charlesl Have mercy upon me
Don't ask it any morel Itseems
to me revolving to lend myself tC
, such infamies y
"And | say you shall do it, Su-
sic !"
@No, l won't. Once for all,
wen'tl9
eYcu won't, Susie? Yor
won't, eh?'' Very we'll; | shal
then inform a certain gentleman
on Lexington street where he
may find Miss Minnie Trainor
who a few weeks ago enticed him
into the house No. - Saratoga
street, where he was robbed of
over $1,000. He does not re-
member the house where he was
robbed, but he has sworn that if
he ever should find the woman
he would send her to the Peni-
tentiary. | shall also write to
Mrs. Margaret Smith, at Litch-
field, Connecticut, where she may
find her daughter, who ran away
from home some ten months ago,
and who has now become a pam
el-thief in Baltimore under the
name Of Miss Minnie Trainor.
A scream from the lips of the
young girl to whom these terri
bic words were addressed inter-
rupted the speaker, a fiashy-
dressed young man, whose hand
some features. were distorted at
this moment by an expression of
savage brutality.
She flung herself on the bed on
which she had been sitting. Bu-
rying her pretty face in her
hands she sobbed out:
"Oh, Charles! Charles! Had
| ever known that you could be
such a fiend!"
He looked at her unfeelingly,
and said:
Nov you know what you
have to expect if you refuse to
obey me. | say, Minnie, quit
bubbling like a schoolgirl; you
have done it o.ten enough. /
must have money, and you must
get it. / will have no nonsense
from you; do you hear me? So
put on your duds and go out; it's
just time. Go to Baltimore
street. You can easily catch
some rich old fellow there. Up
with you, / say, up with youl'
The young girl rose with a
heavy sigh. She did not youch-
safe one word to the young man,
but, drying her tears, she put on
her shawl and turned to the door.
Don't stay too long, Minnie, !"
said the young man, as She put
her hand ON the door knob. Il
shall wait you in the adjoining
room. Keep your eyes open and
bring big fish home"
She left the house, but once
outside she stood still two or
three minutes.
As the pale rays of the moon
fell upon her charming face ter
rible struggle could be seen de-
picted upon it.
"Oh, God, God!" she murmer-
ed at last, with a groal of an
guisIl, 'sthat | my poor old moth
er's idolizcd daughter, should be
compelled to lead a life so revolt
ing, so infamousp
Then she pressed her hands up
on her heaving bosom, bit upon
her lips, and sped away upon her
errand of
SHAME AND CRIME.
When she reached the corner
of Baltimore and Gay street, a
tall, broad-shouldered man, no
longer in the prime of life, was
coming up the street.
Minnie had placed herself un-
der the gaslight, so that her beau
tiful face was plainly discernible.
Her prepossessing appearance at
tracted the mans attention. She
wanted to speak to him, but the
words choked in her throat.
"dallo, little girl said the
man TO her, with a broad West
ern accent, "you seem to be dis
tressed. What is the matter
with you?"
Minnie forced herself to smile
significantly at him.
"Do you live far from here?"
he asked.
She shook her head.
Suppose / go along with
you?"
She led the way. AS they
walked down Gay street, he said
to her:
"Why don't you spek?"
She forced herself to laugh.
"You do all the talking for
me-" she replied.
"What is your name," he then
asked.
minnie"
minnie? That's a pretty
name. And where do you liveY"
"Right round the corner here.