The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1891-02-11


it. This was the man he had owe reached
and the man who had written to the house
saying he would lam the collector whenever
he found him The collector looked back,
thanking his stars he had not renewed the
old acquaintance, when he saw the country
man had been puzzled just as he had, but
had recovered an instant earlier and was
now In full chase after the cab. In smother
moment he would be alongside, and then
he would make the buildings in the vicinity
of the Polk street depot dance like lot Of
stars.
go on, there, driver urged the collec-
tor, and they managed to outrun the flying
Nemesis before they had reached Van Buren,
street.
TORTURED BY SUDDEN IDENTIFIC ALTON.
1t may not be generally known, but it is
a fact nevertheless, that even the most re-
spectacle ranks of life are now aud then
adorned by the presence of a man who has
served mis- term III the Penitentiary. Those
persons are not criminals in the proper
sense of the word, but they have done
something some time for which they have
been for a season secluded from the troub-
lous fear of the maddening crowd. They
have come out with the lesson learned
supposing the incident to have been attrib-
utable to their own wrong-and they have
gone forward thenceforth with a rectitude
that could not be questioned, and have
lived and died honorable and honored.
Well, one of these men-and there are a
good many of them-had been in business
in Chicago for five years, after having
earned the capital to set himself up in trade.
He was filing career in every way credit
able. Every one spoke we'll of him, and no
one would have thought there was a dark
chapter in his life. Still, he never could
quite forget the picture of a man standing
"a
half welcome, Yet not quite SO pleasant as
welcome, and taking from his side coat
pocket a memorandum book. 1t was a
picture he had brought from an eastern in
stitution OF state patronage.
One day the manager of house having a
capitalization of million came to him on
business. They had met and traded often.
A matter that interested both of them was
to be discussed. AS the big man came in
he stood Just inside the door for a moment,
smiling in half welcome, half business fra
ternity, and took a memorandum book
from his coat pocket. That pictured He
knew he had seen that man, and that he had
seen him in only one place, and for only one
minute. 1t was there
He busted himself about his papers for a
moment, stopped to the floor to pick up a
pencil so that he might have an excuse for
the wave of color that surged up over his
face. He attended to the business in the
most embarrassed way. He made a bad
trade when he could have made good one.
He lost money when he might have gained.
He was nervous, ashamed, afraid. He was
trading with the man who was at one time
the warden of the penitentiary where he
had served one terrible year. He had
seen that same man O nun fred times, had
traded with him, but had never seen him
Just inside the door with that smile and
taking a book from his coat pocket. The
instant he saw him there he found all the
details of terrible picture restored. But
the recognition was not mutual, and he
| escaped.
LACK OF REMEMBRANCE COST HIM $500.
And sometimes man loses by this faculty
of remembering Just enough to make MIN
wish he could forget. Dillon's wife kept a
| boarding house, and among the elegant
young people who lived there were Whar-
ton and his wife. They were very nice peo-
| pie, and lived in the best of style. They had
the choice of the house in every particular,
and when it came to one particular guest
having treat which was not sufficiently
| voluminous to go around Wharton and his
wife were always the lucky ones. Dillon
| went on with his work in literary fields
| delving away in the public library, writing
| away at home, and wandering the streets
for material out of which to fashion some
thing in the shape of marketable article.
Time went on, and Wharton tarried toe
long at the wheat pit, and lost not only his
head but his fortune.
He was a well-intentloued fellow, but the
best of men cannot pay debts when there is
nothing with which to pay them. So it
came to pass that he owed Mrs. Dillon $500
and had not 300 cents with which to liqui-
date. He had to leave the house, of course,
and the wife charged her husband to keep
an eye on the debtor and try to find him in
funds some tina and so get part Of the
money. Two years afterward Dillon was
going along the street, when he met a man
coming from the Corn Exchange Bank with
| a wad or money big enough to have satisfied
| even the most rapacious.
Dillon was sure he had seen that man.
| He was, moreover, sure he had seen him
| with woman, and he could recollect
enough of their conduct toward each other
to know that sha was his wife. He knew
he had done that man favor, and that il
was in the nature of favor that should
have been extended to others, but which for
some reason was monopolized by this one.
| But where and when he had seen him he did
not know, and if ne had not heard that
night of the violent death Of Dillon
he probably would never have re-
membered. But the man had gone
from his old boarding house to cheaper
one, had began again to watch the market,
and when he got ready he tried wheat
| agQSa. The cereal was kinder TO him, and
whether he bought or sold wheat, did as be
wanted and he made on every deal He
finally pulled out of the trade with a check
on the corn exchange that placed his win
ming at the five figure mark.
That night, while taking his wife to the
theater, for he must celebrate little, he was
run over by fire engine, and he never spoke
again. What became of the roll of money
no one ever knew, unless it was the wife.
But Dillon never collected his S3OO-a
thing he could have done if he had asked
for it that day at the door of the bank.
TANTALIzING NOTION.
If one could only dispossess himself OF the
fancy that he remembered the person II
would be better than this tantalizing notion
that they should be recalled, and the some
thing really important hangs on their re
calling. But the memory is just retentive
enough to hold the dImmeSt OF impressions
and yet it insists that you must keep or
puzzling your brain about the matter, prom
ising that it is quite worth your while, TIL
you have studied it all out and know that
there is, after all, no reason why it should
have been recollected at all. Those people
who have written books on the subject say
that the memory never loses an impression
il has once received. That the memory L
q sort of closet in which all sorts of objects
are hanging, and that the will sends in there
for n certain object ouly dinlY outlining