davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The San Francisco call., 1908-04-12

and wearing a black slouch hat en-
tered and ordered Napa soda lemon
ade.
The girl waitress didn't know how
TO make it. Don't worry, little girl
said one OF the men. Were going to
carefully inspected the interior OF the
store. Garnick asked to be shown a
picture OF Mccarthy. but failed to iden-
tify him as one of the men
meager hope was furnished late
last night when Robert &. Ezell and
Harry Wilson were arrested on the
water front for pawning diamond ear
rings worth s400 for 500. They told
conflicting stories of where, the dia-
monds had come from
1t is the theory Of the police that
the robbery was committed by a clever
gang of eastern crooks. Just FIVE
weeks ago in New York a jewelry store
was robbed OF thousands OF dollars
worth OF jewelry and the same expert
methods characte rized the crime The
police believe that the men who par
ticipated in that robbery were the
same who secured Lundy's diamonds.
TOO CLEVER FOR WEST
But il certainly was no western
criminal" said Detective Wren. THE
Job was far too clever. There isn't a
could have executed so clean a piece
of work. The members Of the gang
probably scattered and were on their
way out of the city almost before II
was known what had happened"
Special Policemen Montgomery, Hous-
ton and George Hustled are watchmen
paid by Lundy to patrol before his
store and George Mcdonald is the
regular night patrolman on the beat
Besides that two Pinkertons We're sup
posed to keep a watchful eye on the
place But so cleverly did the cracks
men work that they kept themselves
effectually concealed.
Wichman, the candy store man
locked his place as usual at 1880
o'clock last night, when he and Mary
Hatcock, one of the girl clerks who
serves the late customers, went to
their homes.
The safe which was rifled was made
by the Pittsburg safe company.
Lundy. the jewe1er, has been in busi-
ness in this city for 35 years and was
one OF the first merchants to occupy
quarters in the downtown district af-
ter the fire. Some years ago many
valuables were taken from his home
when it was entered by midnight rob-
bers.
Because OF the great number of
crooks who are known 10 be in town
and the recent activity in crime Chief
Of Police Biggy said last night that
Captain of Detectives Kelly will be
asked to cut short his vacation. This
will give Acting Captain of Detectives
Ryan, one OF the cleverest men on the
force, an opportunity to take many
OF the cases in hand personally.
The San Francisco call., 1908-04-12
California Promotion COMMITTEE
lORGANIZED f9O2.l

rnOMOIlON-Ihe act Of promoting: ADVANCE
msnt; encouragement" "-CentnrT bserionerv
US object the PROMOTING Of Caiifornia a. :
~noae. L has nothing to sell It's energies are
eT env svte1 % fostering all things that have the
X gives reliable Information on every subject
eennected with the industries Of California Il
oL new lndustries and invites desirable lmmigra-
~ ION ~ s not an Employment Agency. although
=. gives Information regarding labor conditions.
y presents the opportunities and needs In an
nsIos OK business and professional activity rhls
e se9-llL.ee u supported By popular subscription
animated with the committee are 100 eommer-
eiel organizations OF the state. with a menabsr-
annually In direrent parts OF California, where
matters or state interest are discussed Head
quarters or the COMMITTEES main tnlned IN San
FRANCISCO IN California building. Unioa square
CORRESPONDENCE INVITED.
The San Francisco call., 1908-04-12
SENDS BULLET INTO BRAIN

NEWARK. N. J., April 1I-John J
Desmond, president OF the Townsend
Desmond & Voorhis company. manufac-
turers OF umbrellas, OF New York
city committed suicide today in his
home In Bellevue avenue Desmond
stood in front OF a mirror and sent
a bullet into his head. No reason is
known for the act He was 40 years
of age and came to New York from
Calffornfa 20 years ago.
The San Francisco call., 1908-04-12
CHILD ENTICED FROM
HOME AND ATTACKED
Citizens Aroused by Crime Will
Give Assailant Short
Chriff

MODESTO. April 11.--Wave Jones. an
IL year old girl. was entieed from home
last night by an unknown man and
attacked. When the child escaped from
her assaiiant and reached home she
was so exhausted she could hardly tell
the story of the outrage. She Will re-
cover. The citizens are aroused and,
IL captured, the perpetrator OF the
crime may be lynched. The police have
his description and are securing the
town and countryside in their search.
Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-05-09

together on the road. Basil shook his fist at the avenue Of elms. hls favorite playground.
 Hang those beastly trees" he cried. ''I'd cut them all down if I was NIT. Brownlow."
 'I must go and fell mother" said Julia. and you'd better go too"
 Yes" he assenteJ. but fingered for a moment still looking at the trees as though reluctantly fascinated by them.
 Mother always said something would happen to that little girl" said Julia. with a grave and important look in her eyes.
 "whyT" the boy asked brusquely
 Because of that rnark-that mark she's got on her cheek
 What rotr' he said. but he looked at his companion uBeasily. The event of the evening had stirred the super stitiOus fears. seldom hard to stir in children
 People don't have those marks for nothiuE-so mother szys- Other peO- pie. 10 wiser. said the same thing later ~Rotr- Basil mBtteTed again -Oh. well I must go
 She gianced at hin tinidly. Just cone as far as our door with me I'm afraid
 -AfraE-- he said scOrufulIy. -An ri-ht--
 He walked win her 10 the door of
Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-05-09

.L----I !, Ou. - DeCuuSc
 "'oDV'' "' '""' Julia had given quite another impression, and Sophy sought to reconcile these opposites.
 The young man jumped down from the gate. with a healthy laugh at him. self and at her. caught her up in his arms and gave her smacking kiss.
 That's toll" he said. "Now youc go through. missy"
 Thank you. sIr. Basil. It's not very hard to get through. is itT"
 He set her down with a laugh. a laugh with a note of surprise in 1t. Her last words had sounded odd from a child. But Sophy's eyes were quite grave. She was probably recording the practical value of a kiss.
 You shall tell me whether you think the same about that in a few years time" he said. laughing again.
 "When I'm grown UpT' she asked. with slow. puzzled smile.
 Perhaps" said he. assuming gravity anew.
 And cook." she asked. with a curl ously interrogatire air. anxious appar- entIy to see what he. In his turn. would think of her destiny.
 ''Cook7 You're going to be cookT"
 The cook" she amended-"tbe cook at the halI''
 "IIl come and eat your dinners" He laughed. yet looked trine compassion ate Conhvsa nusrk ores tracked bfs feelings
 You don't think Irs nice to be e cook, eitherT' she asked
 -Oh. res: splendid. The cooks e sort of queen said he.
 'Ths cook 6 sort of Quesn7 Is sheT SOphy's eyes were profoundly thought full
 And l should be very proud to kiss a quecn-a sort of qucen-beczuse shall be culy a poor sawbones--
 -SawbonezT
Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-05-09

| cst,,1,yx3Io tue pdI0. AS they went to the village her father had indulged Sophy with a ride on the bough and she begged renewal of the treat on their homeward jour ney. The farmer was a kind man more kind than wise, as 1t proved. on this occasion. He set the child as:rad- de on the thick end of the bough, then went to the other end. which was much slenderer. Probably his object was to try to shake the bough and please his small tyrant with the imitation of q seesaw. The fallen bough suggested no danger to his slow moving mind He leaned down toward the bough, with putstretched hands. Sophy no doubt watching his doings with excited inter- est, while the wind ragged and reveled among the great branches over their heads. EnOch tried to move the bough, but failed. In order 10 make another effort he fell or his knees and bent his back over it.
 At this moment there came a loud crash. heard in the rectory grounds and in the dining room at WoOdbine cottage. the small house opposite.
 There's another tree gone" cried Basil Williamson. the rector's second son, who was giving his retriever an evening run.
 He raced through the rectory gate, across the road and into the avenue.
 A second later tbe garden gate of woOdbine cottage opened and Julia. the ten-year-old daughter of a widow named Robins. who lived there. came out at full speed Seeing Basil just ahead of her. she called out. Did you hearT'
 He knew her vOlce-they were play mates-and answered without looking back: "Yes. Isn't fl fun? Keep out side the trees-keep we'll in the mead owl"
 Stuff she shouted. IauglIn=- They don't fall every minute. silly
 Running as they exchanged these words. they soon came 10 where the bough. or. rather. the two boEghs. had fallen \ tragic sight met their eyes. The second t1ugh had caught the un- lucky farmer just on the uape of his neck and had driven him down. face forward. on to the first He lay with bis neck close piHaeI between the two and his arms spread out over the un- dermoS1 His face was b1d to look at He was quite dead and apparently death must have been fustantaneJus- eobe-ed and appalled,. the b1y and girE rtDod looking fr0n the terrible stEht to
Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-05-09

"A surgeona doctor, you know with a red lamp. like Dr. Seaton of Brentwood"
 She looked at hSn for moment. Are you really going away?" she ask ed abruptly.
 "Yes, for a bit--tomorrow."
 Sophy's manner expanded into n calm graciousness. I'm very sorry," she said.
 "Thank you"
 "You amuse me-"
 'The deuce dow laugned Basil Will Hanson.
 She raised her eyes sfowly to his. You'll be friends, anyhow, won't you?'
 ITO cook or queen," he said, and heartiness shone through his raillery. Sophy nodded her head gravely, seal ing the bargain. A bargain it was.
Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-05-09
Z97chepter FNksJ Two

~ OPHY CROUCH had gone to lay
 bunch of flowers on her fa- A ther's grave. From the first Mrs.
 Brownlow had taught her this pious rite. and Mrs. Drownlow's dep- uty, the gardeners wife, in whose cot tage Sophy lived. had seen to Its pune tual performance every week. Things went by law and rule at the hall. for the squire was man of active mind and ample leisure. His household code was a marvel of intricacy and minute ness. Sophy's coming and staying had developed a multitude of new clauses, under whose benevolent yet strict op- eration her youthful mind had been trained in the way in which MT. Brown low was of opinion that it should go.
 Sophy's face. then, wore a grave and responsible air as she returned with steps of decorous slowness from the sacred precincts. Yet the outer man. ner was automatic-the result of seven years practice. Within, her mind was busy. The day was one of mark in her life. She had been told her des- tined future and was wondering how she would like it.
 Her approach was perceived by tall and pretty girl who lay in the meadow grass and munched blade of it which bordered the path under the elm trees.
 What q demure little witch she lO0kSr lauphe5 JuIia Robins who was much in the mood for laughter that
Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-05-09
ly acknowledged.

ly acknowledged
 I've left school, and I'm going to leave Mrs. James and go and live at the hall and be taught to help cook, and when I'm grown up I'm going to be cook" She spoke slowly and weightily, her eyes fixed on Julla's face.
 Well, call 1t shame!" cried Julia in generous indignation. "Oh, of course 1t would be all right If they'd treated you properly-I mean, as if they'd meant that from the beginning. But they haven't. You've lived with Mrs. James, know, but you've been fin and out of the hall all the time, having tea in the drawing room and fruit at des- sert. ard-and so on. And you look like a little lady and talk lihe one-almost. l think it's a shame not % give you a better chance. Cook" a
Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-05-09

ot uG gut:
 Don't you think it might be rather nice to be cook-a good cook?''
 "No, don't" answered the budding Mrs. Siddons decisively.
 People always talk a great dea about the cook" pleaded Sophy. 'Mr and Mrs. Brownlow are always talking | about the cook-and the rector talks about his cook, too-not always very kindly, though"
 "No, it's shame. and don't believe it'll happen"
 "Yes, it will. Mrs. Brownlow settled it today"
 "There are other people in the world besides Mrs. Brownlow."
 Sophy was not exactly surprised al this dictum, but evidently it gave her thought. Her long delayed "Yes' showed that as plainly as her "Oh" had little while before marked her appre- citation of the social limits of keeping company" But she can settle 1t all the same" she persisted.
 ''For the time she can," Julia ad- mitted. oh, I wonder what'll be my first part. Tots" She threw her pretty head back on the grass, closing her eyes. A smile of radiant anticipation lowered about her lips. The little girl rose and stood looking at her friend the friend of whom she was so proud.
 You'll look very. very pretty" she said, with sober gravity.
 Julia's smile broadened, but her lips remained shut. Sophy looked at her for moment longer. and, without for nal farewell, resumed her progress down the avenue. It was hard on tea time, and Mrs. James was a stickler for punctuality.
 Yet Sophy's march was interrupted once more. A tall young man sat swinging his legs on the gate that led from the avenue into the road. The sturdy boy who had run home in ter TOT on the night Enoch Crouch died had grown into tall, good looking young fellow. He was clad in what is nowadays called blazer and check trousers and smoked a large meer- schaum pipe. His expression was gloomy. The gate was shut, and he was on the top of 1t. Sophy approach ed him with some signs of nervousness. When be saw her he greeted her mood fly.
 You can't come through" he said firmly.
 Please, Mir. Basil, must. I shall be late for tea"
 T won't let you through. Therew
 Sophy looked despairful. May I climb over?'
 "No" said Basil firmly, but a smile began to twitch about his lips.
 Quick now, as ever. to see the joint in a mans armor. Sophy smiled too.
 'If you'd let me through I'd give you a kiss" she said, offering the only thing
Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-05-09

friend 0f yoursT nolisbad ofr that bone. hasn't he? Is she era great friend of yours?' | His manner was perhaps a little at fault. The slightest note of chan had crept into 1t, and the slightest was enough to put Sophy's quills up.
 "Why notT she asked
 "Why not? Every reason why she should be-" he answered with his lips. His eyes answered more, but he refrain i ed his tongue. He was scrupulousiy gentleman, more so perhaps than, had sexes and places been reversed, Sophy herself would have been. But his eyes told her. "Only," he went on, If so. why did you hide?"
 That bit of chaff did not anger So- phy, but it went home to different purpose, far deeper, far truer home than the young man had meant Not the mark only reddened; even the cheeks flushed She said no word. With fling out of her arms-a gesture strangely, prophetically foreign as 1t seemed to him in after days-she ex- hibited herself-the print frock, the soiled apron, the bare arms, red hands, the ugly knot of her hair, the scrap of cap she wore. For moment her lips quiyered, while the mark--the red star of future days and future fame grew redder still
 The only sound was of Lorenzo's wor- rying the last tough scrap of bone. The lad, gentleman as he was, was good flesh and blood. too, and the blood was moving. He felt little tightness in his throat. He was new to 1t. New. too. was Sophy Crouch to what his eyes said to her. but she took it with head erect and glance steadily leveled at bis,
 "Yes," he said. "but shouldn't haveI looked at any of that, and I shouldn't have looked at her, either"
 Brightly the mark glowed; subtly the eyes glowed There was silence again.
 Almost a start marked Dunstan- bury's awakening. Come, Lorenzow he cried. He raised his hat and turned away, followed by his dog, Lorenzo the Magnificent.
 Sophy took up her lettuces and carried them into the kitchen.
 "There you are at last! And whats put you in temper now?" asked Mrs. Smilker She had learned the signs of the mark.
 Sophy smiled. "It's not temper this time, Mrs. Smilker. I-I'm very happy today" she said. "oh, do hope the salad will be goodv'
 For he who was to cat of the salad had he not forgotten print frock and soiled apron, bare arms. red hands. ugly knot and execrable cap? He would not have looked at them-no, nor at beautiful, many tinted Julia Robins in her pride! He had forgotten all these to look at the stained cheek and the eyes of subtle glow. She had glanced in the mirror of love and sip ped from the cup of power.
 Such was her first meeting with Lord Dunstanbury. If it were ever forgotten, 1t was not Dunstanbury who forgot.
 The day had wrought much in her eyes. It had wrought more than she dreamed of. Her foot was near the ladder now, though she could not yet see the lowest rung.
Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-05-09

greenhouse and heard the crash of the ing could be done save heave a sigh over the damage to his cherished elms. But when the cries for help reached his ears. with praiseworthy promptitude he rushed out straight across his lawn and, though he was elderly and stout, dropped into the ditch, clambered out of 1t and came where the dead man and the children were. AS he passed the drawing room windows he called out to his wife. Somebody's hurt, I'm afraidr' and she. after moments con- ference with the butler, followed her husband; but, not being able to manage the ditch, went around by the road and up the avenue, the servant coming with her. When these two arrived the squire's help had availed to release the farmer from the deadly grip of the two boughs. and he lay now on his back on the path.
 He's dead, poor fellow said Mir. Brownlow.
 Its Enoch Crouch" said the butler, giving a shudder as he looked at the farmers face. Julia Robins sobbed, and the boy Basil looked up at the squire's face with grave eyes.
 ''I'll get a hurdle, sir" said the but Ter. His master nodded, and he ran off.
 Something moved on the path about a yard from the thick end of the lower bough.
 Look there!" cried Julia Robins. X little wall followed. With an exclama- ton Mrs. Brownlow darted to the spot. The child lay there with cut on her forehead. Apparently the impact of the second bough had caused the end of the first to fly upward. Sophy had been jerked from her seat into the air and had fallen back on the path, strik- ing her head on a stone. Mrs. Brown low picked her up, wiped the blood from her brow and saw that the injury was slight. Sophy began to cry softly, and Mrs. Brownlow soothed her.
 'Tt's his little girl" said Julia Rob- ins. "The little gSrl with the mark on her cheek. please. Mrs. Brownlow."
 Poor little thing! Poor little thing" Mrs. Brownlow marmured She knew that death had robbed the child of her only relative and protector.
 The butler now came back with a hurdle and two men, and Enoch Grouch's body was taken into the sad dle room at the hall. Mrs. Brownlow followed the procession, Sophy still in her arms. At the end of the avenue she spoke to the boy and girl:
 Go home. Basil. Tell your father. and ask him to come to the hall. Good night, Julia. Tell your mother, and don't cry any more. The poor man is with God. and I shan't let this mite come to harm" She was a childless woman. with a motheriy heart. and as she spoke she kissed Sophy's wounded forehead. Then she went into the hall grounds. and the boy and girl were left
Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-05-09
Chapter
 Four

TSHE scene is at Hazelby. Lord
 Dunstanbury's Essex seat. His
 lordship is striking the top off
 his breakfast egg.
 q say. Cousin Meg, old Brownlow's got deuced pretty kitchen maid"
 There you go. There you go! Just Ike your father and your grandfather and all of theml If the English people had any spirit they'd have swept thei Dunstanburys and all the wicked Whlg gang into the sea long ago"
 Before you could turn around they'd have bought It up, inclosed 1t and won an election by opening 1t to ships at a small fee on Sundays" said Mfr. Pindar. "why are Wnigs worse than Tories?' inquired sfr. Pikes. with an air of pa tieBt inquiry.
 The will of heaven. I suppose" snlTed Lady Margaret Duddington.
 TO display divI-e omnlpotence in that line" suggested Mir. Pindar. "A deneed pretty girlr' said Dunf stanhury in reflective tones. He waf doing his best to reproduce the ia pressinn he had received at Morpinr ham hall. but obviously with no grea success
 ''On es.--- T-rt~vt frivolous though
Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-05-09

Woodbine to,,.se ,.ad waited till 1t closed behind her. performing the es- cort with bold and lordly air, Left alone in the fast darkening night, with nobody in sight, with no sound save the ceaseless voice of the angry wind essaying new mischief in the tops of the elm trees. he stood for moment. listening fearfully. Then he laid his sturdy legs to the ground and fed for home, looking neither to right nor left till he reached the hospitable light of his fathers study. The lad had been brave in face of the visible horror. Fear struck him in the moment of Julia's talk about the mark on the child's cheek. Scornful and furious at himself. yet he was mysteriously afraid.
Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-05-09

. AhSOSL1. AAstk As tbC huiAiS, AiAN in the interest of euphony it is
 G impossible not to regret the
 fact. Some say it should be spelled "Groutch." which would not at all mend matters, though it makes the pronunciation clear beyond doubt-the word must rhyme with crouch" and s'couch." Well might Lady Meg Dud- dington swear it was the ugliest name she had ever heard in her life. Sophy was not of very different opinion, as will be shown by and by. She was Crouch on both sides-unmixed and un- redeemed-for Enoch Crouch married his uncle's daughter Sally and begat as his first child Sophy. Two other chil- dren were born to him, but they died in early infancy. Mrs. Crouch did not long survive the death of her little ones. She was herself laid in Morp- tngham churchyard when Sophy was no more than five years old. The child was left to the sole care of her father, . man who had married late for his class-indeed, late for any class-and was already well on in middle age. He held a very small farm, lying about half mile behind the church. Proba- ply he made hard living of it. for the only servant in his household was slip of girl of fifteen, who had pre- sumably both to cook and scrub for him and to look after the infant Sophy. Nothing is remembered of him in Morp- ingham. Perhaps there was nothing to remem ber-nothing that marked him of from thousands like him. Perhaps the story of his death, which lives in the village traditions, plotted out the inconspicuous record of his laborious life
 Morpingham lies within twenty-five miles of London, but for all that it is a sequestered and primitive village. It contained, at this time at least, but three houses with pretentions to gen tlity-the hall, the rectory and small or house across the village street, fac ing the rectory. At the end of the 5treet stood the hall in its grounds. This was a handsome red brick house set in spacious garden. Along one side of the garden there ran a deep ditch. and on the other side of the ditch, between it and large meadow, was a path which led to the church. I'hns the church stood behind the hall grounds, and, again, as has been said, beyond the church was Enoch Grouch's modest farm. held by MT. Brownlow, the owner of the hall. The church path was the favorite resort of the vil iGgers, and deservedly, for it was shaded and beautiied by a fine double row of old elms, forming stately ave- nue to the humble little house of wor- ship.
 On an autumn evening in the year 1855 Enoch Crouch was returning from