The Pontypridd Chronicle and Workman's News

JOVIAL JEMMI'S GHOST; OR, A WARNING TO DRUNKARDS. A COMPLETE S T 0 R Y. "Lack!" nonsense. There is no such thing. Life is not a game of chance any more than chesa is. If you lose, you have no one but yourself to blame." This was said by a young lieutenant in the Royal Navy, to a middle-aged midshipman, his elder brother. Do you mean to say that luck had nothing to do with Fine Gentleman Bobbin passing for lieu- tenant, and my being turned back ? was the re- joinder. Bobbin, though a dandy, is a good seaman, and—and The speaker looked another way, and hesitated. I am not, you would add—if you had courage. But I say I am, and better seaman than Bobbin." Practically, perhaps, for you are ten years older in the service. But it was in the theoretical part of seamanship-which is equally important- that you broke down before the examiners," con- tinued the younger officer, in tones of earnesb but sorrowful reproach. "You never would study. I'll tell you wfcat it is, Master Ferdinand," said the elderly middy, not without a show of dis- pleasure. I don't think this is the correct sort of conversat;on to be going on between two brothers after a five years separation." The young lieutenant laid his hand soothingly on his brother's arm, and entreated him to take what he said in good part. Well, well!" rejoined the middy, with a laugh half forced. Take care what you are about, or, by Jove, I'll inform against you." "What for?" Why, for preaching without a license.- Besides, you were once as bad aa you pretend I am." I own it with sorrow but I was warned in time by the wretched end of poor James Harper-" "Of whom?" asked the elder brother, starting back as he pushed his glass along the table. You don't mean Jovial Jemmy, as we used to call him; once my messmate in the brig Bollock ?" "Yes, I do." What dead ? "Yes." Why, it was one of our great delights, when in harbour and on shore, to go the rounds,'—as he called ib-with Jovial Jemmy. He understood life from stem to stern-from truck to keel. He knew everybody, from the First Lord downwards. I have seen him recognized by the Duke one minute, and the next pick up with a strolling player, and familiarly treat him at) a tavern. He once took me to a quadrille party at the Duchess of Durring- ton's, where he seemed to know and be known to everybody present, and then adjourned to the Cider Cellars, where he was equally intimate with all sorts of queer characters. Though a favourite among the aristocracy, he was equally welcome in less exclusive societies. He was 'Brother,' Past Master,' 'Warden,' 'Noble Grand,' or 'President' of all sorts of Lodges and Fraternities. Uncom- monly knowing was Jemmy in all sorts of club and fashionable gossip. He knew who gave the best dinners, and was always invited to the best balls. He was a capital judge of champagne, and when he betted upon a horse-race everybody backed him. He could hum all the fashionable songs, and was the fourth man who could dance the polka when it was first impprted. Then he was as pro- found in bottled stout, Welch rarebits, Burton ale, devilled kidneys, and bowls of Bishop, as he was in Roman punch, French cookery, and Italian singers- Afloat, he Was the soul of fun :—he got up all our private theatricals, told all the best stories, and sung comic songs that made even tho Purser laugh." An extent and variety of knowledge and ac- complishments," said Lieutenant Fid, which had the precise effect of blasting his prospects in life. He was, as you remember, at last dismissed the service for intemperance and incompetence." "When did you see him last ? What, alive ?" inquired Ferdinand Fid, changing countenance. Of course! purely you do not mean to insinuate that you have seen his ghost! The lieutenant was silent; and the midshipman took a deep draught of his favourite mixture— equal portions of rum and water-and hinted to his younger brother, the lieutenant, the expediency of immediately confiding the story to the Marines for he declined to credit it. He then ventured another recommendation, which was, that Ferdi- nand should throw the impotent temperance tipple he was then imbibing over the side of the Ship" -which meant the cavepn of that name in Green- wich, at the open bow-window of which they were then sitting-and clear his intellects by something Stronger. I can afford to be laughed at," said the younger Fid, "because I have gained immeasurably by the delusion, if it be one but if ever there was a ghost, I have seen the ghost of James Harper. I, like yourself and he, was nearly ruined by love of amusement and intemperance, when he—or whatever else it might have been—came to my aid." "Leb us hear. I see I am I in' for a ghost story." Well, it was eighteen forty-one when I came home in the Arrow with dispatches from the coast of Africa you were lying in the Tagus in the Bobstay. Ours, you know, was rather a thirsty station a man inclined for it comes home from the Slaving Coasts with a determination to make up his lee way. I did mine with a ven- geance. As usuai, I looked up I Jovial Jemmy.' "'Twas easy to find him if you knew where to go." "I did know, and went. He had by that time got tired of his more aristocratic friends. Re- spectability was too slow' for him, so I found him presiding over the Philanthropic Raspers,' at the Union Jack. He received me with open arms, and took me, as you say, the rounds.' I can't recall that week's dissipation without a shudder. We rushed about from ball to tavern, from theatre to supper-room, from club to gin-palace, as if our lives depended on losing not a moment. We had not time to walk, so we galloped about in cabs. On the fourth night, when I was beginning to feel knocked up, and tired of the same songs, the same quadrilles, the bad whisky, the suffocating tobacco smoke, and the morning's certain and desperate penalties, I remarked to Jemmy, that it was a miracle how lie had managed to weather it for so many years. What a hardship you would deem it,'I added," if you were obliged to go the same weary round from one year's end to another.' What did he say to that ? asked Philip. Why, I never saw him so taken aback. He looked quite fiercely at me, and replied, "I art), obliged "How did he make that out ?" Why, he had tippled and dissipated his con. dtitution into such a state that use had become second nature. Excitement was his natural con- dition, and he dared not become quite sober for fear of a total collapse-of dropping down like a shot in the water." The midshipman had his glass in his hand, but forebore to taste it. Well, what then ?" The I rounds' lasted two nights longer. I was fairly beaten. Cast-iron could not have stood it. I was prostrated in bed with fever—and worse." Ferdinand was agitated, and took a large draught of his lemonade. Well, well, you need not enlarge upon that," replied Phil Fid, raising his glass towards his lips, but again thinking better of it; "I heard how bad you were from Scrapham, who shaved your head. I had scarcely recovered when the Arrow was ordered back, and I made a vow." "Took the pledge, perhaps!" interjected the mid, with a slight curl of his lip. No! I determined to work more and play less. We had a capital naval instructor aboard, and our commander was as good an officer as ever trod the deck. I studied—a little too hard, perhaps, for I was laid up again. The Arrow was, as usual, as good as her name, and we shot across to Jamaica in five weeks, One evening as we were lying in naar* Kingston harbour, Scrapham, who had come over to join the Commodore as full surgeon, told me to join the Commodore as full surgeon, told me what he had never ventured to divulge before." What was that ?" ] Why, that, on the very day I left London, James Harper, died of a frightful attack of delirium tremens 1 Poor Jemmy said the elder Fid sorrowfully, I taking a long pull of consolation from his rummer. Little did I think, while singing some of your best songs off Belem Castle, that 1 had seen you for the last time "I hadn't seen him for the last time," returned the lieutenant, with awful significance. Philip assumed a careless air, and said, "Go on." We were ordered home in eighteen forty-five, and paid off in January. I went to Portsmouth was examined, and passed as lieutenant." This allusion to his brother's better condition made poor Philip look rather blank. "On being confirmed at the Admiralty," con- tinued Ferdinand, I had to give a dinner to the Arrows which I did at the Salopian, Charing Cross. In the excess of my joy at promotion, my determination of temperance and avoidance of what is called fociety was swamped. I kept it up once more I went the rounds,' and accepted all the dinner, supper, and ball invitations I could get, invariably ending each morning in one of the old haunts of dissipation. Old associations with James Harper returned, and like causes produced similar ejects. One morning while maundering home, I began to feel the same wild confusion as had previously commenced my dreadful malady." Ah a little touched in the top-hamper." It was just daylight. Thinking to cool myself, I jumped inlo a wherry to get pulled down here to Greenwich." Of course you were not quite sober ?" Don't ask I do not like even to allude to my sensations, for fear of recalling them. My brain seemed in a flame. The boat appeared to be going at the rate of twenty miles an hour. Fast as we were clearing the current, I heard my name dis- tinctly called out. I reconnoitred, but could see nobody. I looked over on one side of the gun- wale, and, while doing so, felt something touch me from the other; I felt a chill; I turned round and snw- "Whom?" asked the midshipman, holding his breath. What seemed to be James Harper." Was he web As dry as you are." I summoned courage to speak. r Hallo I some mistake I exclaimed. II Not at all,' was the reply. 'I'm James Harper. Don't be frightened, I'm harmless.' "'But-' I know what you are going to say,' inter- rupted the intruder. Scrapham did not deceive you—I am only an occasional visitor up h.el'e.' "This brought me up with a round turn, and I bad sense enough to wish my friend would vanish as he came. Where shall we land you ?' I asked. Oh, anywhere-it don't matter. I have gob to be out every night and all night; and the nights are plaguy long just now.' I could not muster a word. Ferd Fid,' continued the voice, which now seemed about fifty fathoms deep and fast as we were dropping down the stream, the boat gave a heel to starboard, as if she had been broadsided by a tremendous wave—'Ferd Fid, you recollect how I used to kill time how I sang, drank, danced, and supped all night long, and then slept and soda-watered it all day ? You remember what a happy fellow I seemed. Fools like yourself thoughb I was so but I say again, I wasn't,' growled the voice, letting itself down a few fathoms deeper. I Often and often I would have given, the world to have been a market-gardener or a dealer in chick- weed while roaring He is a oily good fellow," and "We won't go home till morning!" as I emergedwith a group from some tavern intoCovent Garden market. But I'm punished fearfully for my sins now. What do you think I have got to do every night of my—never mind—what do you think is now marked out as my dreadful punish- ment ?' Well, to walk the earth, I suppose,' said I. "'No.' To paddle about in the Thames from sunset to sunrise ?' Worse. Ha ha (his laugh sounded like the booming of a gong). I only wish my doom was meiely to be a mud-lark. So, no, 1 m con- demned to rush about from one evening party and public house to another. At the former I am bound for a certain term on each n'ght to dance all the quadrilles, and a "feiv of ilie polkas and waltz.es w;l h clumsy partners and then 1 have to eat stale pastry and tough poultry before I am let off from that place. After, I ajn bound to go to some cellar or singing place to listen to "Hail, smiling morn," "Mynheer Van Dunk," "The monks of old," Happy land," imitations of the London actors, and to hear a whole anto of dreary extempore verses. I must also smoke a dozen of cigars, knowing—as in my present condition I must know—what they are made of. The whole to end on each night with unlimited brandy (British) and water, and eternal intoxication. Oh, F. F., be warned be warned Take my advice keep up your resolution, and don't do it aguii.. When afloat, drink nothing stronger than purser's tea. When on shore be temperate in your pleasures don't turn night into day don't exchange whole- some amusements for rabid debauchery, robust health for disease and-well, I won't mention it. When afloat, study your profession and don't get cashiered and cold-shouldered as I was. Promise me-nay, you must swear!' At this word I thought I heard a gurgling sound in the water. If I can get six solemn pledges before the season's over, I'm only to go these horrid rounds during the meeting of Parliament.' Will you swear ?' again urged the voice, with persuasive agony. I was just able to comply. Ten thousand thanks were the next words I heard; I'm off, for there is an awful pint of pale ale, a chop, and a glass of brandy and water over- due yet, and I must devour them at the Shades.' (We were then close to London Bridge.) 'Don't let the waterman pull to shore I can geb there without troubling him.' I remember no more. When sensation re- turned I was in bed, in this very house, a shade worse than I had been from the previous attack." "That," said Philip, who had left his tumbler untasted, "must have been when you had your head shave 1 for the second time." "Exactly so." And you really believe it was Jovial Jemmy's ghost?" inquired Fid, earnestly. Would it be rational to doubt it ? Philip rose and paced the room in deep thoughb. He groaned out more than once an apostrophe to poor James Harper." At length he declared his mind was made up. "Ferd!" he said, "ltold you a while ago to throw your lemonade over the side of the ship. Don't. Souse out my grog instead." The lieutenant did as he was bid. And now," said Fid the elder, ring for soda water; for one must drink something. Last year it was my own good fortune to sail with Mr. Philip Fid in the Bombottle (74). He is not exactly a teetotaller but he never drinks spirits, and will not touch wine unmixed w th water, for fear of its interfering with his studies. He is our first mate, and the smartest officer in the ship. Scrapham is our surgeon. One day, while we were at anchor in the bay of Cadiz, the conversation happened to turn upon Jovial Jemmy's apparition, which had become the best authenticated ghost story in Her Ahi.esLy's Naval service. On that occasion Scrapham undertook to explain the mystery upon medical principles. The fact is," he said, what Ferdinand saw was a spectrum, produced by that morbid condi- tion of the brain which is brought on by the im. moderate use of stimulants, and by dissipation we call it Transient Monomania. I could show yon dozens of such ghosts in the books, if you only had patience while I turned them up." Everybody declared that was unnecessary. We would take the doctor's word for it. Ghost or no ghost however the story had had the effect of converting Philip Fid from one of the most intemperate and inattentive to one of the soberest and best of Her Majesty's officers. May hia promotion be speedy

A ROMANTIC ELOPEMENT. Stourbridge correspondent says:—A romantic .frpement has taken place recently in Worcester- shire, and has given rise to a good deal of interest in the district where it has occurred. A young lady belonging to a county family has, it appears, or a considerable time been attached to a gar- dener engaged at a neighbouring residence, and their affect on has ripened to such a degree thaftj putting aside social diference, the lady has fettf from the ho" e of herfriends, and is believed to have espoused her horticultural friend. He left the neighbourhood a day or two before the lady, and upon lmr disappearance soon afterwards their attachment came to light. The lady passed hec majority a few years ago, and is, it is stated* possessed of a fair independency in her own right. the gardener is reputed to be a young man of good looks and good character.

ALLEGED ARREST OF THE PICKERINQ MURDERER. The lafest American papers just received stating that a mysterious man, who admits that he is travelling incognito, was arrested at Castle Garden, New J or after alighting from the Guion steamer Wyoming, from Liverpool. The Police were armed with a cablegram fron the Chief of Police of orti-,Lllei-to, õnglnlld, asking them to take into custody a passenger who \v\s registered as James Shaw. The cable ili: ect ions doscv.;l)ed the fugitive as a man of forty-seven yeais, ft. 7'n. in height, and with ginger whisker and hair. The prisoner who gives his name as Mr. l'ennock, of Pickering, North Riding, Yorkshire, was then charged with the murder of his wife on the th ult. The accused looked lather surprised when the charge was ('■.plained to !r'm, but ho had lit tle to say. He det,lared (hat s name was ■;ames Miaw, and he came from Leeds, He cays that he parted with his wife and t lireo children .t the Leo-Is railway station on the th ult., and has no reason to believe that his wife is not alive. He said thab lie was a farm labourer in England, and was em- ployed before emigrating by a smull fanner named Otting, and that lie came to America to better his prospects, and left his wife and family with a wdow, named Chapman, in Dyer's street, St. i'eter's-Iane, Leeds. He further states (hat hia wife's name is Alice whereas the name of the murdi-red woman was HauiJnh. He declined to say why he was travelling incognito. The American paper further adds thnt Shaw fully answers the description of "Jack the Ripper," and there was- in his pockets a paper containing the illustrated account of the Whitechapel horror, and the rumour spread that the 'A hiteoiiapcl murderer was a pi- sonur in New York. The lawyer tor the Priti<?h i. onsul wns ready to proceed with the examination of LL" prisoner at once, who expressed hiswilling-j ness to meet the charge either here or in Eng-< land but Comm dsioner Shields decide I to assign; him counsel, and adjourned the hearing of the case. The prisoner having complained of being, hungry, was then taken to a restauranb by thai police, whereheateravenously, and was apparently unconcerned about the charge of murder.

ARTFUL ROBBERY BY A SERVANT. At the Hnrlesden Petty Sessions, Elizabeth Wilson, aged i5, a servant, was charged with stealing from 5, Stenebridge Park, l"s. in gold, r's. < d. silver, and f-^d. bron e, the property of A on Davidson. One evening, while the family were ab church, prisoner ransacked the house, and then went for iMiss Davidson, and told her that thieves were in the house. Detective-sergeant Wheatlejfc made an examination of the premises and ques- tioned the prisoner, who told him the burglars gob through a waidow iuft. f;om the ground, and overhauled a chest of drawers in Miss Davidson's bedroom. The detective < ould find no trace of an entry having been ejected from the outside, aiid told the prisoner h<3 suspected her, whereupon she produced the m>.ney from a copper. Prisoner was given a good character, and the prosecutor attri- buted her committing the o"'enc-e to a sudden de- mand having been made upon the prisoner by a tallyman, with whom she had had dealings. The Bench said it was a serious thing to invent a story of burglars, but after hearing her good character they passed the lightest possible sentence—viz.fc one month without hard labour.

THE EAST-END OUTRAGES Being the beginning of anew month, and aboub the customary period selected by the assassin for his fonl dt;i'iIs, i lie police are exercising the strict- est precautions to provide against a nnewal of the crimes. Measures being taken to secure the safety of the persons of the class to which the murdered women belonged. An extra number of policemen in plain clothes have been t'il<l oil' to watch every woman seen loitering about the street, and it ia believed that should a repetition of the murdera take place the assassin must be captured. i A man, some 35 years of age, of dark complexion* attended at Lambeth Police Court and asked tlia advice of Mr. Chance as to what he should do witlt. regard to be taken into custody in an unjustifiabla mail tier. r. Chance asked what were the cir- cumstances with regard to the alleged illegal sr- rest.—The applicant said he had a short time baclc been arrested at the East-end of London and taken to a police-station on suspicion that he was "Jack the Kipper" and implicated in the murders at the. East end.—Mr. Chance asked if he was detained in custody, an.1 lie said he was, mid nfter inquiries. had been made allowed to go. Since then the matter seemed to have acted in a very detrimental" manner to him, and lie had been unable to obtain work. He wanted to know what his worship could do in the matter.—Mr. Chance said it was a pro- ceeding which had nothing to do with the district of this court. If, however, the statement made, by the applteanb was correct he had better apply. to the Commissioners of Police and explain the, case to thom.'—The applicant thanked his worship, and said he would follow that advice. John Weidon (28), of 15, Francis Street, Wool- wich, was charged at Woolwich Police Court with wilful damage.—Mrs. Segain, the keeper of a fisli, "hop in New Road, Woolwich, said Che prisoner "ame there and wanted credit. She refused ta trust him, and thereupon he became very abusive,' and said, (. 1 am Jack the Ripper, and will do for. you," at the same time commencing to smash everything in the shop, sweeping a number of, plates, vinegar bottles, &c., off the counter.—Thei prisonen was ordered to pay 12s., or be imprisoned; for seven dWs.

THE MURDER OF A GAMEKEEPER. Before Jlr. Gordon W. Clarlt and a full Bench. at Dorkiijg, James Edwards, a navvy, was charged on remand with being concerned in a night poach- ing affray on Mr. ee Steele's estate, on Nov. 25. in the course of which William Gtoombridge, a keeper, ^as murdered. John Jenkins, a labourer in Mr. Lee .^eei e's employ, who was called up by Scoley, -Air. F, Cennington's keeper, early on Sunday morning, to accompany the keepers, who had heard firing going on in Mr. Steere's field, Baid they proceeded towards High Trees Cops»^ where the reports came from, and 8coley sent him forward. He saw Edwards standing there. The- two Rcoleys passed witness, who hurried after them and saw prisoner strike Scoley, jun., with a ItlCIL ,I.:st then he saw another man running. Edwards and young Scoley were struggling, and just as prisoner gave up he heard a reporb, aaw < flash, and then saw something lying in the ride. Som. body went down there and came back, and 811 d "I t S poor Bill Py prisoner: I heard you say you were sorry the man was shot, but did not! hear you tell us to go after the man who shot him. The two Scoleys and other witnesses corroborated, and the prisoner, who said he could tell the man who shot the keeper from a thousand, was again remanded. The man Stevens, alias T.ove, alias Finisher," who is wanted for the murder, is still at large. Surprise is feit that the police have nota yet captured him, as he is well-known. The fol- lowing is the de-cription given of him :—Nearly CO 5fb. 4in. to offc. :iin. in height hair getting grey, none on top of head nose a little flat on the bridge; lot of scars aboi.t) his face talks throngh his nose diessod in wa.is coat) of blue kind of velvet, long kind of brownish mackintosh, cord leggings with white bone buttons, and soft felt hat or kind of smoking cap.

A Kildysnrt telegram slates that a young mnn named Sullivan had been found deful on the publus road between Kildysar* and Labasheeda. Some marks of vio lence were distinguished. The demonstration in Paris in honour of the memory of Baudin passed oil quietly. The police ntonted themselves with watching the frocet- viou*