The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-02-21
A NIGAT IN AN AVALANCHE.

IT was curious enough how l came
to see an avalanche. We don't have
many of them in our country, believe;
at least, they never fall near to the
highways and country villages, SEEM
ingly for the accommodation of sight
seers, as they do at the Wengern Alp,
and in hundred other places of Swift
erland and the Tyrol.
Contrary to all arrangements and
expectations of the dear old uncle who
had reared me, L had not got further
along in life than to third class clerk
ship in the State Department at Wash
ington, and this only because could
write fine hand, and make fancy cap
itals, said my disappointed uncle.
believe uncle was thoroughly
ashamed of my getting into the depart
ment at all. He would hundred times
over have preferred that l had been a
common farmer. But when the hard
times came, and when the hard times
got harder, and the old farm, going
under a mortgage, was only rescued by
my savings as third-class clerk, uncle
sank his shame in his gratitude, and
my fancy writing was ridiculed no
longer. A little good penmanship had
kept my uncle out of the poor-house.
1t did something for me, too, later.
Still, it was weary enough for me at
last, reading and copying endless dis
patches of the Chief Clerk to our Con-
suls in Europe, and all that without
any apparent hope of ever becoming
Chief Clerk myself. One day l was
copying dispatch of the Secretary to
the Consul at Z. 1t was to the eff
feet that from that day on he would, in
accordance with his request, be allowed
$1,000 year for clerk hire. "He will
want clerk, then, of course" l said
to myself, "and if l could secure the
situation, l might be happy STILL" l
whistled meditatively. l would see
Europe at least. and that would be a
change; anyway, would be no longer
liable to become fixture as third
class clerk in the department. l didn't
want promotion so much as wanted a
change. l got the latter as the sequel
will show. That evening the dispatch
of the department, copied in my best
hand, left for Europe, accompanied by
a private note of my own to the Consul.
AS specimen of my writing, l referred
to the inclosed dispatch, and informed
the Consul that could speak the Ger
man language, having learned it, even
ings, during my stay in Washington.
Perhaps the last remark, and not my
fine writing, settled the business.
Clerks who can speak foreign Ian
guages are in demand with our Consuls.
In six weeks from that day l had
peeped into the great cities of London,
Paris, and Brussels, and was now stand
ing at the clerks desk of the American
Consulate at T.
The business was not burGensome.
With the Office open but five hours a
day, we were happy. l had beautiful
times-so did the Consul.
What wonderfully various duties
Consuls have to perform in these five
hours, though! What combination of
pater and mater fansilias the Consul isl
Though never severe, his work is as
multifarious as are the characters of a
thousand tourists. His Office is the
grand depot of all strange things. The
consulate at Z was no exception to
the rule. 1t was the receptacle of
everything, from a dainty love letter
with lock of hair, to wills of invalids
and Saratoga franks. Everybody called
there, many "loafed" there, and one
poor melancholy tramp claimed the i'm
mortal privilege of hanging himself in
the Consul's wood house-just to be I'M
der the flag, as it were.
Tourists and tramps, however, are
not alone in furnishing the Consul with
the spiced variety of life. Uncle Sam
contributes his mite occasionally.
Among the Washington letters last
winter was one from our worthy Com
missioner of Pensions, asking the Con-
sui to investigate, and furnish evidence
that certain widows and minor daugh-
tiers of United States pensioners living
in his district had not married, and
thus forfeited their claim to further aid
from the Government. 1t was easy
enough to secure this evidence in most
cases. Those living near the city were
invited to call at the consulate, and it
was sometimes a matter of sly pleasure
to the Consul and myself to listen to the