The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-08-15
THE WRONG PASSENGER.
How a stalwart Farmer Punished q New York
Confidence Man.


New York Letter.
James Chittenden is a wel-to farmer OF
Western New York, who fought under General
Grant, and who came up to the city to pay the
last sad tribute to the memory of his old com
mauder. Time has whitened the long hair
which streams over his coat collar, and long
bending at the plough has impaired stoor to
his broad shoulders, but his face is ruddy 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 shouidered a musket
Many eyes were turned upon him as he saun-
tered down Broadway his way to the City
Hall yesterday afternoon, in his trave-stained
linen buster, Needless of the clamor of the pass
ing crowds and the din of car bells and carriage
wheels. A s0rrowful expression clouded the
benevolent countenance of the veteran and ne
was walking along slowly near Canal street, sad
dened by thoughts of days that were gone, when
he was astonished by cordial salutation from
slim, dudish youth who suddenly smiled up at
him ard waived at him an ambrosla hand gilt
tering with rings.
"Why, bless my soul Mr. Smith, exclaimed
this product of the latter day civilization in the
most honeyed tones, ''who ever would have
thought of seeing you' This is. indeed. an un-
expected pleasure
Mr.. Chittenden for moment was taken aback.
He surveyed the newcomer 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 loves joke and a twinkle
SHoNtu III MS CIedr gray eye DIS He Feplieu Win
n smile: My name is not Smith; it's Brown
TIE dudish young man bowed his most fashion
able bow, and at once passed on with protuse
apologies for his mistake, and MIR. Chittenden
again pursued his way He had stopped laugh
ing at his little adventure and had relapsed into
his former train of meditation when he was a
second time accoste6 by another apparition III a
standing collar and cuffs, ana q voice even more
unctious than the first saluted him as Mr..
Brown" Whether Mr.. Chittenden's faith in
haH hapn oh lyau w
counter, or whether his love of joke again i'm
PEELED him he does not remember, and he
Immediately seized the hand extended to
him and shook it with cordial VIC
warmest greetings: How do you find
yourself, NY dearest friend' There, stand off
that can look at you, cried the exuberant
farmer, empasizne every word by tightening
his grasp of the strangers hand. PLEASED to
see me. The pleasure is NINE sir entirely
mine Only to Think of it's being you. What,
come to see the funeraN How considerable you
are, ehl'
the other, his smile little fainter and his tone
a little less cordial than at first ''Why, what
an atfectonate follow you are, Mr. Brown"
Aye, lad, cordiality runs in our family"
rejoined the farmer closing his fingers relent-
lessly and working his arm like the handle of
force pump. "a firm hand shows a warm heart.
Afectionate? Well, | reckon | am, none of your
say and don't be backward in showing your
friendship why, how well you look should
never have known you"
Time does alter one it's true, There there,
Dir. Brown, | have been suffering with
hand-if you would kindly"
Don't mention it. sonny don't mention it.
Nothing like exercise to keep good blood circu-
lating. | can never control myself at the sight
OF an old friend. Well, well, only to think that
its YOU; how, how you've growed"
Yes, indeed and that reminds me I've an
important engagement. and see have no time
to lose; so if you'll just excuse me- hut Mr.
Chittenden is not the man to part from old
friends so hastily, and so he only jerked the arm
of his new acquaintance the harder, renewing
his expressions Of delight. BY IT, time the
thing was getting serious The be con
fiderce man was caperlng with pail d strug
gled In the vlSe-like grasp of the stai@ TT rustic
like a lobster in tho clutches of an octopus His
face and lips cclorless, and his brow
streamed with cold perspiration. His eyes
stood out like saucers his collar broke loose;
his hat fell off, and the light seemed to have
face was not lessened when he saw that a crowd
was gathering, and the farmer released him only
after final wrench, which noarly tore the
waysharpers arm from it's socket
What, going already" exclaimed Mr.. Chit
Lenden, who had never turned hair, and rather
enjoyed the exercise. ''Wel we'll, you needn't
be in such a hurry he continued in a reproach
full Tone as the confidence man picked himself
up and darted around the corner out of sight of
the approaching figure in helmet and brass but
tons That's rather shabby treatment of an
old friend like me-, but he didn't seem so very
glad to see me after ALL" and Mr.. Chttenden
smiled benignly upon the grinnIng bystanders,
and calmly pursued his journey.