The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1882-05-03


and the quieter and quicker you come along
with me, the better it'll be for you.n
But never dreamed of such a thing !"
cried Dolly, Historically.
That's oil TALK said the constable,
changing his tobacco from one cheek to the
other. That's what they all say
/" am innocent" pleaded Dolly.
That's for the judge and jury to decide,r
said the constable.
There was great crowd that afternoon
around the old willow Urea, well-known
gnarled veteran on the edge of merry little
rivules. All the spades and picks in the
neighborhood We're in requisition; an I'M
dertakers wagon waited in the convenient
vicinity tall people stood in the foreground,
and short ones climbed up ON stone walls,
stood on tip-toc, aud lodged under their
neighbor's arms.
Dolly, the implied murderess, was at Mrs.
Hopkins house under o strong guard, until
they could take her 10 the neiehboring jail,
and Alphonso Paysley. Of Mr.. DuciSett's aug
gestion, Ind been arrested as an accomplish.
Why don't they tell me on what evidence
they have dared to arrest me ?" sobbed poor
little Dolly.
Them wasn't my ORDERS" said the con-
stable, who, in truth and in fact, was as
much in the dark as Dolly herself
But the spades and picks, after much dill
gent labor, produced no commensurate eff
feet. About a quarter of ton of red earth
had been heaped in disorderly piles about
the ground, and nothing but tree-roots and
cobble-stones had rs yet been found
Pm blessed II | believe there's anything
there y said the biggest and stoutest of the
exeayators; and at the same moment, there
was murmur through the little crowd, as
woman pressed her way through. and Miss
Phebe Pidgeon herself stood in the front
rank.
"What on earth are you all doingS" said
she. Simmons told me had been muir
dered. If it really is the case, don't know
il myself yet
The diggers dropped their implements;
the nndertaker's wagon began to back down
the road as quietly Us possible; the crowd
stood open-mouthed. And Mr. nuckett
Them" said he, how do you account
for this letterln
And he read it almost in sonorous tones.
Just then tiny little hand plucked at his
sleeve
Its my letter. said Squire Aliens little
hired-boy Il wrote it to Billy Bliss It's
about my pet pigeon-nly phebe.dove. Dol
ly Dutton kept it ut her house for mo, and it
got poisoned with some of the etnff she got
for rats
Thcn,n gasped MIR. Duckett, why
didn't we find il then ~
"'cause took it up yesterday said the
boy, whimpering, land buried il in our
own back yard, so could look at its grave"
There is nothing so quickly turned as the
tide of public feeling. People who had wept
five minutes ago, now shouted with laugh.
ter.
It's all Daddy Duckett's own pie !"
shooted al irreverent Young man. :, hope
he's sstisiie;i witii-riir NAY ii.a hsl'sst il q
So Dolly Button was released with many
apologies; Alphonso faysley was notified
that he need no longer consider hinlself un.
der arrest Miss Pidgeon went home, to find
her house i'll the possession of half dozen
artists of illustrated newspapers; and Mr.
Duckett disappeared.
Not mysteriously, however. He paid his
bill at Mrs. Hopkins, gathered together his
scientific implements. aud left town
And the inhabitants of standale have never
seen him since Helen Forrest Ggur6S