Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1891-10-17
in TWO HALVES.
The Story of a Divided Bank Note.
THE FIRST HALF.

in TWO HALVES.
The Story of a Divided Bank Note.
THE FIRST HALF.
Wet aud dreary. 1t is midwinter;
the scene is kirklington, on the Lon
don and Northwestern; tho time one
| quarter TO eleven; just after the night
mail flashed through without stop.
ping=bound for Liverpool aud the
north. The railway officials arc col.
lecting preparatory to going off duty
| for the night.
where's Damp asked one of the
crowd upon the platform.
al saw him in the hut Just after
the one-quarter To eleven went through.
Can't have come to any harm, surely ?"
"No: he said he'd seen something
drop from the train. and he went down
the line 10 pick it up"
And Dan had picked mp something.
1t was a basket, a common white
wicker basket, with 4 lid fastened
down by n string. What did it con-
tain? Dirty clothes? What?
A baby-a child half dozen weeks
old. no more.
Where did you come across itP'
asked one
Lying on the line. just where it
fell. Perhaps it didn't fall. perhaps
it was chucked out. What matter?
I've got it, and got To look after it.
that's enough for me!'
The mites linen was white and of
fine material, but he lay upon an old
shawl and few bits of dirty flannel.
All they found was dilapidated
purse, n common snaplock bag-purse
of faded brown leather. Inside was a
brass thimble, q pawn-ticket and the
half of Bank of England note of 100
pounds.
A new parson-Harold Treffry-had
come lately to Kirklington.
He is now paving a round of par
ochial visits accompanied by an old
college chum, who is spending Christ
mas with him.
"Yonder," said Treffry, pointing to
a thin thread of smoke which rose
from some gaunt trees into the sullen
wintry air, "yonder is the house-if.
indeed, it deserves so grand name
the hovel, rather, of one whose case is
the hardest of all the hard ones in my
parish. This man is a mere hedger
and ditcher, one who works for any
master, most often for the railway, but
who is never certain of job all the
year around. He has a swarm of
young children, and he has just lost his
wife. He is absolutely prostrated;
aghast probably at his utter incapacity
TO do his duty by his motherless little
ones. / wonder if you could rouse
himp II you could only get him to
make sign, or cry, or laugh, or to
take the smallest interest in common
affairs. Jack. | believe you're the
very man. You might get at him
through the children-t at mary ellous
hanky-panky of yours, those surprising
tricks; Il child takes naturally to you
at once. Try and make friends with
these. Perhaps when the father sees
them interested and amused he may
warm little, speak, perhaps approve.
perhaps smile. and in the end give in.
Jack, will you try?n
Jack Newbiggin was by profession
a cOnveyancer. but nature had intend
him for new Houdin, Ora wizard of
the north. He was more than half a
professional by the time he was full
grown. In addition to the quick eve
and facile wrist he had the rarer gifts
of the suave manner and the face OF
brass. He had even studied mesmer-
ism and clairvoyance, and could upon
occasion surprise his audience con-
siderably by his power.
They entered the miserable dwelling
together. The children-eight Of
them-were all skirmishing over the
floor. except one, child of seven, n
bright-eyed, exceedingly beautiful,
boy, the least-werc not natures
vagaries well known-likely to be born
among and belong to such surround
ings, who stood between the legs OF the
man himself, who had his back to the
visitors and was crouching low over the
scanty fire.
Here, little ones; do you see this
gentleman? He's conjuror. Know
what a conjurer is, Tommy?" catch
ing up mite of four or five from the
floor. mo, not you; nor you, Sarah;
nor You Jakey"-and he ran through
all their names.
.rhey now ceased their gambols
and were staring hard at their visitors
tho moment was propitious; Jack
Newbiggin began. He had fortunately
filled his pockets with nuts. oranges
aud cakes before leaving the parson-
age, 50 he had half his apparatus in
hand.
The pretty boy had very soon left
the father at the fire and had come
over to join in the fun, going back
however, to exhibit his share of the
spoil and describe voluminously what
had occurred. This and the repeated
shouts Of laughter seemed To produce
some impression on him. Presently he
looked over his shoulder and said-bui
without animation:
1T is very good Of you, sir, surely;
very good Of YOU to take so kindly To
the little chicks. 1t does them good
to laugh bit, but it amt much they've
had to make 'em lately"
1T is good for all Of us now and
again, / take it." said Jack, desistins
and going towards him. the children
gradually collecting in a far of corner
and comparing notes.
"You can't laugh, sir. IL your hearts
heavy; IL you do it can only be .
sham.n
While he was speaking he had taken
the bible from the shelf. and resum-
ing his seat began to turn the leaves
over.
"Tm an untaught, rough country.
man, sir. but have heard tell that
these strange things you do arc only
tricks; amt IL SOP
Here was indeed hopeful symptom.
He was aroused thec to take some in
terest in what had occurred.
"All tricks, of course; 1t all comes
of practice" said JACK. rs he pro
ceeded to explain some of the simple
processes. hoping to cnchain the mans
attention.
That's what thought sir, g Id
have given you a job to do. Two been
in want of real conjuror many long
day. and nothing lcss'll do. See here.
sir.n he said, as he took small. care.