The Pickens sentinel. [volume] (Pickens, S.C.) 1871-1903, 1885-10-15
THE WRONG MAN,
working tho Confidence Gamo on an Old
New York Soldier.

Jamos Chittcnden is w6ll-to-do
farmer OF western. New York, who
fought under Gen. Grant. and who
came to She city TO pay Tho last sad
tribute to tho memory OF his old CONF
mandor. Time has whitoned tho long
hair which streams over his coat collar.
and long bending at the plow has int
parted stoop to his broad shoulders;
put his face Is ruddy with health, and
ms stop as firm and springy rs ever,
While his arm is as strong and his
glance as bright as when he first shoul-
uered musket Many eyes were
turned upon him as he sauntercd sadly
9oWn broadway on his way to the city
hali yesterday afternoon in his travel
stained linon duster, heedloss of the
ciamor OF tho passing crowds and the
ain OF car-bells and carriage wheels.
a sorrowful expression clouded the
benevolent countenanco of the victorian,
ana he was walking along slowly near
Canal street. saddcncd by thoughts of
days that wcrc gone, when he was as
tonished by cordial salutation from n
| slim, dudish youth, who suddenly smil-
! Cd up ut him and waved at him an am
oroslal hand glittcring with rings:
Why, bless my soul. Mr.. Smith,"
exclaimed this product Of latter-day
civilization in tho most honeycd tones,
.'who ever would havo thought OF Sec
ing your This is indeed an uucxpect-
cd pleasure"
Mr.. Chittondon for n moment was
taken aback. IIo surveyed tho new
comcr from tho crown oil his white tile
to tho points Of his dainty patcnt-lcath-
or shoes aud saw at once that ho was
an entiro stranger; but he loves a Joke,
and twinkle showed in his clear
gray eyo rs he replied with a quiet
smile:
my name is not Smith; it's
Brown"
Tho dudish young man bowed his
most fashionable bow and at onco pass
CD on. with profusc apologies for his
mistake. and Mr.. Chittondon again
pursued his way. Ho had stoppcd
laughing at his little adventure and
had rolapscd into his former train of
meditation when ho WAS Il second time
accosted by another apparition in n
standing collar and cuffs, and a voice
even moro unctuous than tho FIRST, sa-
lutcd him as ''Mr. Brown" Whether
MIR. Chittenden's faith in human nature
had been shaken by his first encounter,
or whether his love of q joke again im-
PEELED him, he docs not now remember.
but he Immediately seized the hand
extended to him and shook it with cor
dial violence. uttering ut tho same timo
the warmest greetings.
"How do you find yourself. my dear
est fricndp There. stand off so can
look ut Jou," cried tho cxubcrant
farmer, emphasizing every word by
| tightening his grasp Of the strangers
hand. pleased to SEQ mcp Tho p1oas-
urc is mine. siri entirely mine. Only
to think Of it's being you! VI hat, come
to see the funeral? How consideratc
of you, ehe"
"Oh, yes, and-and all that sort OF
thing" replied tho other, his smile a
little fainter and his tone a little less
cordial than at first. "Why, what an
affoctionato fellow you are, Mr..
BrownP"
AYE, lad; cordiality runs in our
family" rejoined the farmer, closing
his fingers relentlossly and working
his arm like the handle of force,
pump; "a firm hand shows warm
heart. Affectionatep Well, | reckon
am. Mono of your loose grips for
~~@S' AAoOs " AllO IL lllCuu, say,
and don't be backward in showing
your friendship. Why. how we'll you
look: l should never have known
you"
''Timc docs alter one, it's truo.
There, there, Mr. Brown; have been
suffering with a soro hand, il you would
kindly"
Don't mention it, sonny; don't
mention it. Nothing like exercise to
keep good blood circulating. / can
never control mysolf Mt tho sight of an
old friend. Woll, well, only to think
that it's you. How -how-you've
growedI"
eyes. indeed, and that reminds me
I've an important engagement, and
/ see have no time to lose, so If you'll
just excuse me-"
But Mr.. Chittenden is not tho man
to part from old friends so hastily, and
so he only jerked the arm Of his new
acquaintance the harder, removing his
expressions Of delight. BY this time
the thing was getting serious. Tho
Would-bc confidence man was capering
with pain, and struggled in Tho vice.
like grasp of tho stalwart rustic like a
lobster in the clutches of an octopus.
His face and lips were colorless, and
his brow stroamed with cold perspira-
ton. 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 lessonod when hc saw
that crowd was gathering; and tho
farmer released him only after final
wrench which nearly tore tho willy
sharper's arm from its socket.
What, going alreadyf" exclaimed
MIR. Cbittenden, who had never turned
a hair and rather enjoyed the exercise.
"Well, we'll, you needn't be in such a
hurry" he continued, in o reproachful
tone, as the confidence man picked
himself up and dartod around the cor
ner out Of sight of the approaching fig
ure in the helmet and brass buttons.
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.. Chittenden bcamod bcnignly upon
the grinning bystanders and calmly
pursued his journey.-Ne0 York
W0Tld.
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