n unkind fate preserved the conductor to confront his
ignominy. It was found that

HE HAD FORGOTTEN TO WIND UP HIS WATCH!

How could such a butchery have been brought about, save by a course of
small errors which had eaten into his moral nature, leaving him a great
ghoulish fiend of Carelessness, running his pitiless Juggernaut up and
down the highway between two great cities! The hideous errors made by
men are always indicative of those particular men. Some people never
make errors at all! Why? Because they are careful. Simple, is it
not--like Napoleon's tactics? Yet that constant care is so wonderful in
its effects that human science cannot peer into the mystery of its
action. Men laboring under total aberration of the mind have been known
to carefully wind a clock at a given hour, and evince no other power to
do a reasonable thing. Begin early in life to do all these little things
with the greatest care.

IMITATE THE CELEBRATED DETECTIVES,

who actually pay little attention to things gross and palpable, but
follow the more closely those minute clews which, interlacing and
concentering, often as a whole, lead them, with the greatest certainty,
to the dark hand that did the foul deed. Here is

A RIDICULOUS ERROR:

On Tuesday, the third of May, 1881, Scranton, Willard & Co., brokers, of
New York City, sold to Decker & Co. stocks to the enormous sum of
$127,000. For this property Decker & Co. wrote a check on a bank for
$127,000, and a messenger was sent by the cashier of Scranton, Willard &
Co., to have the check certified--that is, to have the bank officials
write across the face of the check in red ink "Certified," meaning that
the money was there and would thenceforth be dedicated to the redemption
of that particular piece of paper. The boy returned with the check, the
cashier put upon his own file a "tag" representing the amount of money,
along with many other similar records, and the boy was sent with the
check to the Bank of North America. The boy handed to the banker, with
the check, a similar "tag" from the cashier, which was also filed. When
you deposit money, at many banks, you fill out a "tag" or deposit-check,
and offer it with the money, which "tag" is used by the banker as a
safeguard against errors and lapses of all kinds. When Scranton, Willard
& Co.'s cashier reckoned up his "tags" he found no record of a check for
$127,000. He immediately accused the boy of purloining the check, and
inquir