Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1885-08-28
HE CHOSE THE WRONG MAN.
Working the Confide ence Game on an
Old New York Soldier.

Working the Confidence Game on an
Old New York Soldier.
New York World.
James Chittenden is we'll to do
farmer of western New York, who
fought under General Grant, and
who Came to the city to pay the last
sad tribute to the msmory of his old
commander. Time has whltened the
long hair which streams over his coat
collar and long bending at the plow
has impaired a stoop to his broad
shoulders; but his face is ruady with
health, and his step as firm and
springy as ever, while his arm is as
strong and his glance as bright as
when he first shouldered musket
Many eyes were turned upon him as
he sauntered sadly down Broad way
on his way to the city hall yesterday
afternoon in his travel stained linen
duster, needless of the clamor ot the
passing crowds and the din of Car
bells and carriage wheels. a sorrow
full expression clouded the benevolent
countenance of the veteren, and he
was walking along slowly near Cau>
al street, saddered by thoughts of
days that were gone, when he was
astonished by a cordial salutation
from a slim, dudish youth who sud-
denly smiled up at him and waved at
him an ambrosial hand glittering
with rings:
"Why, bless my soul, Mr.. Smith,"
exclaimed this product of latter day
civilization in the most honeyed tones
'who ever would have thought of
seeing you2 This is indeed an unex
pected pleasure.
Mr.. Chittenden for moment was
taken aback He surveyed the news
conner from the crown of his white
tile to the points of his dainty patent
leather shoes and saw at once that he
was an entire stranger; but he loved
joke, and twinkle showed in his
clear gray eye as he replied with
quiet smile:
"My name is not Smith it's
Brown"
The dudish young maa bowed his
most fashionable bow and at once
passed on, with profuse apologies for
his mistake, and Mr.. Chittenden
again pursued his way. He had stop
DSu db LIS lulu az NChLuIO
and had relapsed into his former tt ain
of meditation when he was second
time accosted by another appa, ition
in a standing collar and cuffs. and
a voice even more anctuous than the
first, saluted him as "Mr. Brown" !"
Whether Mr. Chittenden's faith in
human nature had been shaken by
his first encounter, or whether his
love of a joke again irnpelled him, he
does not now remember, but he i'm
! mediately seized the hand extended
to him and shook it with cordial VIC
lence, uttering at the same time the
warnest greetings.
How do you find yourself my dear
est friend2 There. stand off so | can
look at you," cried the exuberant far
mcr, emphasizing every word by
tightening his grasp of the strangers
hand. PLEASED to see me2 The
pleasure is mine, sir; entirely mine.
Only to think of its being youl What
come to see the funeral? !? how consider
ate OF you, ebs"
"Oh, yes, and-all that sort of
thing" replied the other, his smile a
little fainter and his tone 8. little less
cordial than at first. why, what
an effectionate fellow you are Mr.
Brown?"
"Aye. lad; cordiality run. in our
family" rejoined the farmer, closing
his fngers relentlessly and working
his arm like the handle of force
pump; "a firm hand shows warm
heart. Affectionate9 Well, l reckon
l am. None of your loose grips for
me. Meet friend as friend, / say
and don't be backward in showing
your friendship. Why, how well
you look, 1 should never have known
you"
Time doss alter one. It's true,
There, there. Mr.. Brown; l have been
suffering with a sore hand, if you
would kindly
Don't mention it, sonny don't
meation il, sonny; don't mention it.
Nothing like exercise to keep good
blood circulating. l can never con-
troll myself at the sight of an old
/ friend. Well well, oaly to think
that its You. How-how-you've
| growedi'
"Yes, indeed, and that reminds NE
I've an important engagement, and
III see 1 have no time to lose, so if
you'll jusk excuse me"-
But Mr.. Chittenden is not the man
to part from old friends so hastily,
and so he OILY jerked the arm OF his
new acquaintance the harder, renew
ed his expressions of delight. By this
time the thing was getting serious.
The would be confidence maa was
capering with pain, and struggled in
the wise like grasp of the staiHart rus
tic like lobster Ia the clutches of an
octopus. HIs face and lips were coll
orless, and his brow streamed with
perspiration. His eyes stood out like
saucers. His collar broke loose, his
hat fell off, and the light seemed TO
have faded out of his life. The agony
depicted ON his face was not lessened
when he saw that crowd was gath
ering; and tie farmer released him
only after final wrench which near
ly tore the willy sharper's arm from
its socket
"what, going alreadyfr exclaimed
Mr.. Chittenden, who had never turns