LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IV, Issue 474, 22 December 1875, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE REFORMATION OF THIEVES,

Nym Crinkle writes in the New York World as follows :

It is the easiest thing in the world to hunt a man down when he is trying to be honest with his own record against him. There is a case on record of a young man in a prominent dry-goods house in this city, who, in a moment of temptation, forged a cheque on his employers. It was a peculiarly painful affair. The lad was well connected, and when the detectives made the disoovery, it almost broke his parents' hearts. However, after much trouble the matter was compromised. The father paid the money, and some mitigation of sentence was effected. With the stain upon him he started out to redeem his character if he could. After wandering about for some time he obtained a situation in New Orleans as entry clerk, and at the end of a year saw a fair prospect of achieving success. His employers had confidence in him, and he had made numerous reputable acquaintances. One day, while on the sidewalk, superintending the shipment of some goods, one of these New York men came along. ' Halloo ! you here ?' 'Yes,' said this young man, with his heart in his mouth. • What are you doing ?' ' Trying to earn an honest living.' It seems incredible, but it is true. The officer went straight into the store. One week later the young man was in New York. ' God knows,' he said, ' I tried as hard as anybody could to be honest, but it's no use.' Of course a detective who had the slightest notion of his obligations as a man to society, to say nothing of his ditty as an officer, would not have made this mistake. And that reminds me of another case which ought to teach even police officers that discretion and kindness are not without fruits even in their business.

Everybody in the force remembers Johnny Maas. He was a pickpocket and belonged to a mob that worked on the west side. How he got into the company of these people it would be hard to tell. But he was an adroit and rather amiable thief that scarcely ever caused the force any trouble. It was customary in the days of the metropolitan police to lock up all the pickpockets and ' guns' when there was to be a great celebration or procession. They were were merely ordered to the central office, and then kept until the city was restored to its usual quiet. Johnny Mass ouly needed to be told to go to headquarters to report himself there promptly. He was a young man, rather slight in build, and somewhat taciturn. To the surprise of the Superintendent, he came to the office one afternoon and inquired when all the special men would be in. He was told he could see them in the morning. When the morning came he was there. After the roll was called the Superintendent said, ' Now, Johnny, the men are all here if you want to speak to them.' He got up from the corner in which he was sitting, and wringing out his cap with his two hands, proceeded to address them in a faltering and abashed manner. ' Well, you see, I've concluded to square it. You've been pretty rough on me for some time, and I've got a sister that's got the heart disease, and she's took it into her head that she'd live a bit longer if as how I'd do the right thing, and 'told her I'd make a try of it; and if you men gimme a hand why I don't mind making it a go. I don't want to get ' the cholera' no more, and if the gal'll live a bit longer on my account I am willinV

All the men went up and shook hands with him, and it was agreed that he shouldn't have ' the cholera' unless he broke through his resolution.

About a year after that, in the dead of a severe winter, the Superintendent was coming through Crosby street into Bleeker, and he met Johnny Maas. The fellow was dressed in a thin bombazine coat. He was collarless, and his feet were out, and he locked hungry, pinched and wretched. ' I'm glad y ou've kept your word, Johnny. But it's going pretty hard with you. I suppose, to be honest ?' ' Awful hard, sir,' said Johnny, ' but I told her I would, and. I did.'

• That's right. Don't you go back of your word. Stick it out. You'll make better times by-and-by.' ' Don't you see that bank over here ?' said the young man, pointing to the marble building in Bleeker street. ' Well, there ain't money enough in that place to make me go back, I'd rather go cold and hungry and not be hunted—so 1 would.'

The next summer one of the hotel proprietors at Long Branch sent up to the Superintendent for a man to keep an eye on the thieves that hang around a wateringplace. ' I can get you a man,' said the Superintendent, thinking of Johnny, ' but I'm bound to tell you he's been a thief.'

' Tlien I don't want him.' Then the Superintendent told the story I have told, only he told it better. ' Send him down,' said the landlord, 'A chap that'll do that ought to be helped.' lb was 25d0l a week to Johnny, and it made a man of him.

During that season there wasn't a robbery coram tted at the Branch. Johnny statiuned himself at the railroad depot, and when he saw a former pal he warned him off. ' It's no use,' he would say, 'I don't want to pipe none o' you boys, and I ain't goin' to do it if you stay away. If you come here it will be awful rough on both of us.' And to their credit it ought to be said that they always went back. If I had been in the sentimental or the moral way, there is one thing I should have done.

Do you know what that is ? I should like to have known that sister that had the heart disease. One other thing. I'd like to give you the name of that Superintendent, but I'd have to ask him first, and that's impossible. MY HERO. ' I shall build the wall, Nelly.' ' Why, uncle dear,' 1 said, ' how changeable you are. It was only yesterday you told me ymi had given it up altogether.' ' Yes, I had yesterday, Nelly ; but I've altered my mind today. I shall build the wall and carry it right round the house, and have high gates, and a big key to lock 'em up, and keep it in my pocket.' ' Why, whatever for ?' I said, laughing. ' Because,' he answered, as he put his arm round me, and began stroking my hair in his dear old loving way—only it does tumble it

so—'beciuse it's quite time; else I shall come home one of these days and find it ain't home any longer, as some of these fellows have carried off my little housekeeper. ' ' Oh, uncle,' I said, turning all hot and red, as I bent down cutting Phil's sandwiches ; ' how can you talk such foolishness.' ' 'Tain't foolishness, my little lassie,' he said, watching me very hard ; ' it's nature, Nell. Murray put it to me plump and plain yesterday—spoke right out.' ' What about, uncle ?' I said, feeling hotter and quite angry. ' "What about, pussy !' he said, chuckling. 'Of course, you don't know. Told me like a man he loved you, and said he thought he ought to tell me so; for if he didn't, he felt as if he came to the mill on false pretences. Ha, ha, ha!'

' I'm sure, uncle,' I cried angrily, *I never gave Mr Oliver Murray the least encouragement. Oh ! don't, uncle, you're coming off all floury on my dress.' 'To be sure I am, Nelly,' he said, laughing, ' same as I have hundreds of times, like a jolly miller should. And so you've never given him any encouragement, eh ?' 'Never, uncle,'^l cried indignantly; and, in spite of all I could do, the tears would gather in my eyes, and one fell pat on the bread and butter between which I was laying slices of meat. 'Why, you wicked young fibster,' he cried, laughing, ' every look of those eyes is an encouragement; every wave of that sunny brown hair ; there's an encouragement dimple in that cheek, another in that, and one in your chin. Why, pussy, pussy, you're a wicked little encouragement to all the young men for miles round —from top to toe —and I don't wander at Parson saying what he did.'

'What did Mr Wilson say?' I cried eagerly, for I loved our dear, gentle old clergyman, and many a time I had been round with him in his visits to the sick and aged in the village, where his benevolent face and silvered head were always welcome.

' What did he say ?' laughed uncle, placing his great hand under my chin, and looking me full in the face ; ' why, that he should forbid you the church—have you locked out, because the lads were all staring at you instead of listening to his sermon.' ' It's all nonsense,' I said, angrily, for I'm sure I never thought I was nice-looking, and what uncle said seemed to trouble me.

' It's all nonsense, too, about John Fleming, I suppose,' said my uncle, watching me very narrowly. ' Wonderful how fond that chap's got of me lately.' ' Has he, uncle ?' I said, bending over the sandwiches.

' Has he ! Yes, he has; he calls whenever he's going into the town, to see if he can do anything for me; calls of an evening to ask how the horses are ; calls of a morning to tell me the price of wheat; hang him, he's always calling, he's so very fond of me —eh, Kelly ? You've seen it, haven't you?' ' I—l've—l think I've seen that Mr Fleming does come very often, uncle,' I said, and I know my neck grew scarlet, as I tied the sandwiches up in a little packet, and though I tried so hard, I kept getting more confused—the more so that I knew dear uncle was watching me narrowly. ' Yes,' he said drily, ' I should think you had,' and he sighed gently. 'Nelly, my little lassie,' he said, taking me once more in his arms, and speaking very seriously, ' it's all very natural, and I don't murmur, though it'll be a black day for the old mill when my darling's taken away.'

«Oh, uncle !' ' Yes, I say when my darling's taken away; but don't be in a hurry, my child. All isn't gold that glitters: many a good, true little heart has been won by a handsome face and smooth words, when, if that good, true little heart had had the wisdom to see it, there has been sterling worth and a more faithful love hidden behind some rough outside. It is'nt the ruddiest apple in the orchard that's the best, Nelly. There's many a better one with a rough skin, that's better tasted, and firm and sound, where your handsome, streaky fruit's bitter, mealy, and rotten at the core.' I couldn't help it now. I burst into tears. ' Has Noll Murray said anything to you, lassie '!' ' No, uncle,' I said angrily; 'andif he did, I ' • Should say no to him—eh, lassie ?' 'Yes, uncle, of course,' 1 exclaimed; but all the same my heart kept beating strangely. 'l'm a plain, blunt man, my dear,' he said; ' and I tell you I'm sorry for it. Oliver Murray's a staunch, true man, well to do, and as open and honest as the day. Has Fleming said anything to you ?' I didn't answer. I couldn't answer—l was choking. ' Silence gives consent,' he said quietly. ' Well, my dear, it must come, 1 suppose, some day ; but don't hurry, my child, don't hurry. I won't thwart you in your wishes, but if I must lose you some day, I should like to feel that you'd gone to a ha,ppy home.'

I hardly know what followed, only that I threw my arms round his neck, and was subbing on the honest, broad old breast, where I had so often cried myself to sleep when first he fetched me, a poor trembling little orphan, years before, to his own widowed home, where he had shared his love between me and his one child, cousin Philip, ever since. I know I sobbed and cried as if my heart would break, as I told him again and again that I loved no one but Philip and him, and that I never, never wished to go away from the dear old mill. I was in the midst of one of my most passionate protestations, when some one cried—- ' Hallo ! what's the matter ?'

I turned hastily away, for there was Philip, with his fresh, young, eager face and wide open eyes, at the door, fastening his pony's bridle to the ring, while he came in to fetch his sandwiches and the puffs which I had made for him to take to school.

' Hallo,' he said again, ' what's the matter; has cousin Nelly cut herself '!' 'Here,' said uncle, gruffly, 'you take your dinner, sir, and be off. You'll be late.' ' Oh, no, I shan't father,' cried the boy. ' Then you'll be galloping the pony all the way, you dog,' said uncle. ' Now look here, Phil, you're about going mad over that pony. You cantered across the low meadow last night.' (To be continued.)