Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1881-01-28
A True Story.

"A 1Euc StOIys
"Jules Leach, the man who escaped
from the Asylum, has bees found.
When recognized, he was quietly seated
in a train, bound West, with little
child on his knee. The CONSERVATION
Of the poor woman with whom he had
been converting, may be imagined,
when told that he was an escaped luna.
tic of the most dangerous sort"
So read grandpa, in not unpleasant
voice, in spite of his eighty odd years,
after we had risen from the breakfast
table.
"Jest think of it, Marthy-what an
escape for somebody Well, I'm glad
ont"
st shouldn't like to have been that
woman," said little Mary, busting
about.
"Nor T." said grandma, as she
found her yarn in an old silver tankard,
where the boy of the family had de-
posted it.
"No, I reckon" said grandpa, with
chuckle. "You see she's been there
herself, grandma has"
"What does he mean, grandma p
asked Mary. standing still with the
sugar-bowl in her hands. Did you
ever meet an insane person out Of the
hospital? 2"
81 did have little adventure of that
kind once" said grandma, joining her
yarn and beginning to knit. "But
La
"Tell it, Marthy; I've almost forgot
il myself. You see it happened nigh
forty years ago, when we were both q
little younger than we are now, eh,
Marthy And we lived over in Camden
didn't we ?"
eyes, in Camden" said grandma,
smiling
"And it happened in summer time,
didn't it ?" queried grandpa, winking
ut me.
"No! Summer when the snow was
on the ground ?" said grandma, severe.
". Seems to me your memory il
failin', john"
" Well, maybe tbs; but / reccollect
now twas winter-and the mans
name -
Yen can't have forgotten that p
said grandma, eager. Why, twas
the same as our own, Van Dom. Didn't
he make out that he was relation
Of course he did. He came to the
door about eleven, and ! had just fin
ished ironing.
" It was on Tuesday, too, perhaps
you don't remember" continued the old
lady. superbly. and I'm sure when
went to the door and saw that tall,
hook-nosed fellow, with beard almost
down to his waist, was struck with 9
kind Of dread. But dear me, how
polite he wasl
I'm Joseph Van Dorm said he,
and came from New York this morn.
ing. DR.. Isaac Van Dorm is your hus-
bands cousin, isn't he?
IS Yes,' ! said. The New York Van
DornS. You see, were our relatives.
There was but the one family that
knew of.
Well, you'll be surprised at the
news tell you; but it's rather Geld out
here. perhaps you wouldn't object to
my stepping into the house. My names
Van Dorm, and your husband is my
cousin
''' Indeed said I, for was little
suspicious, for he hadn't the family
face. He looked more like Jew, but
I invited him into the parlor, which
was cool and dark, and gave him the
rocking-chair.
" Yes said he, taking off his ha.
and busting it with his handkerchief.
I haven't seen John for Eve years OF
more. ! suppose he looks about the
sams-little bald spot on the top Of his
head scar ON the right temple, bushy
eyebrows. and spectacles.'
You've described him exactly
said, beginning to feel quite cousinly.
and familiar, for knew that John Sc,
great store by his relations.
Oh yes, John and were school
mates. and bosom friends, as you might
say he went on. But about that
news. OF course, you haven't heard
yet-Dr. Van Dorm is dead ,sand has
left your husband ten thousand dol.
lars.'
" Well, ! was more foolish then, ]
s'pose, than I am now. We were pretty
poor, and John had to work DAYS
work in printing office, and the way
that man said il, you'd have declared
that he spoke the truth.
Is John at home p he asked.
Oh no, said I; John never comes
home till five in the afternoon
That must make it lonesome TO,
you,' said he.
"It does eaid I. L am all soul
alone, day after day, and the neighbors
never come in till after dark
SCI You don't object, says he, put.
ting bis hat on the table, III stay here
. little while. I've been travelling all
night. for thought it was my duty to
give John hint of his good fortune.
always liked John so much