Melbourne Observer. 121003C. October 3, 2012. Part B. Pages 21-44

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012 - Page 21

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012 - Page 23

Victoria Pictorial

Historic Photo Collection

● Elizabeth St, Melbourne. Near GPO. 1892-93.

● Cable tram car and dummy. 1892-93.

● Cable motorhouse, Melbourne tramways. 1892-93.

● Elizabeth Street corner, Melbourne. 1892-93.

● Princess Theatre, Spring St, Melbourne. 1892-93.

● Law Courts, Melbourne. 1892.

● South Melbourne Town Hall, 1892.

● Bourke Street, Melbourne. 1892.

Page 24 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012 - Page 25

Melbourne

Observer Forgotten Fortunes

Missing millions, ready to be claimed E&OE. The Melbourne Observer publishes lists of unclaimed moneys to Victorians from financial institutions. We list the name of the owner on the books and last known address.

Please contact the organisation listed to make a claim.

Australia and New Zealand Banking Group Ltd & Associates. PO Bodx 386, Kew. $3745.91.

White, Paul Daniel. 4/21 Newlyn St, South Caulfield. $738.00.

Woodford, Dorothy Morshead.

Pearce Webster Dugdales Lawyers.

4th Floor, 379 Collins St, Melbourne. $2478.00.

Yapp, Lucy. Room 19, 2nd Floor, 13 The Strand, Moonee Ponds. $648.72.

YoungACD MYD Graph Design P/L S-F, Mark Edward. PO Box 18066, Collins St East. $510.00.

Zarb, Carole. 210 Riddell Rd, Sunbury. $557.35.

Zorzut & Zorzut ACD E & V Zorzut Super Fund, Eddy & Vicki. L:evel 1, 346 Bell St, Preston. $844.80.

AMP Life Limited Unclaimed Monies Team Phone: 131 267 White, Donald Eric. 10 McEntee Ct, Traralgon. $446.00.

White, Wendy. Gleneen RMB 5150, Riverslea. $249.71.

Wilson, D. 11 Argyle Rd, Maryborough. $323.00.

Wilson, Gilbert Waugh. 11 Argyle Rd, Maryborough. $230.00.

Wilson, Martin Andrew. 301 Warby Rd, Malvern East. $382.00.

Woolacott,Alan R. 3 William St, Romsey. $484.00.

Wooller, D M. 13 Chathjam Rd, Canterbury. $891.90.

Zardo, Linda Daniela. 35 Punkerri Ct, Greensborough. $19,677.41.

Zoltak, I. RM 10 231 McKinnon Rd, McKinnon. $566.96.

ANZ Banking Group (Dividends) Jowett, Elizabeth Joyce. c/- Frank Jowett, 495 Lygon St, Carlton North. $2195.56.

Judd, Carolyn Mary. 3/30 Nevis St, Camberwell. $665.28.

Kaye-Smith, Alan. 4 Clive St, Mount Waverley. $1195.93.

Kendall, Ann-Marie. 10 Roger Ct, Nunawading. $622.60.

Lal, Im Siam. 20 Pampas St, North Melbourne. $550.00.

Lanteri Partners Fin Mgmt P/LACD Eric Ettridge. PO Box 18039 Collins St East, 8003. $6538.97.

Laws, Emma. RMB 3641, Yanakae. $844.80.

Leong, Lily. 6 946 Burke Rd, Deepdene. $85.00.

Lewis & LewisACD The Lewis Family S-F, Wendy & Norman. PO Box 512, Carlton North. $507.40.

Luckock, Tom Wilfred. Ballanclae, 250 Ballancrae Rd, Ceres. $880.00.

MacFarlane, Keiran. 23 Streetanhope St, Eltham. $508.28.

MacIndoe, Charles Hugh. 5 6 Redan St, St Kilda. $5943.54.

May & Dodds & CostiganACD EST Maxwell M Costigan, Susan Mary & Christina Margaret & Rodney Gordon. 78 Park St, Moonee Ponds. $1673.83.

McCain, Margaret. 13 Inverness Way, Balwyn North. $1675.44.

McCutcheon, Brian Alexander. c/Melville Orton & Lewis. PO Box 109, Hamilton. $3163.53.

McLennan, Malcolm McInnes. 4 Jade Ct, Hampton Park. $704.00.

Messer, Valerie. 2 Rose Ave, Blackburn. $704.78.

Miller, Davd James. 31-35 Exeter Rd, Croydon North. $590.00.

Mond & Mond, Nathan & Morris.

13 Howitt Rd, Caulfield North. $975.70.

Nadarajah, Dharshini. Unit 3, 61 George St, Scoresby. $530.60.

Nesbren Pty Ltd. 1 Bushland Ct, Wheelers Hill. $1387.20.

Nguyen, Phuong thao. 4 21 Rutland St, Clifton Hill. $598.40.

Nguyen, Tri Minh. 14 Bermingham St, Yarraville. $1177.00.

Noble, Gerald William. 60 Talbot Ave, Balwyn. $1180.00.

Open Technology Services Pty Ltd. 3 469 Dryburgh St, North Melbourne. $550.00, $705.00.

Orchard, Steuart. 28 Laser Dr, Rowville. $556.70.

O’Sullivam Brendan John & Carol Jane. c/- DFS Advisory Svcs Ltd, PO Box 12827, A’Beckett St. $519.18.

ANZ Banking Group (Dividends)

ANZ Banking Group (Dividends)

Parteco Pty Ltd ACD Teperman Super Fund. 10 Embling Rd, Malvern. $2750.00.

Pateras ACD Adam & Amanda Pateras, Nick. 42 Grantchester Rd, Wheelers Hill. $858.00.

Perry, Dudlee Gray. Springside, RMB 3640, Euroa. $423.23.

Pile, George Leonard. Remington Wright & Co Lawyers. Suite 2, 50 Main St, Croydon. $2665.77.

Ramos, Dante Rex. 6/70-72 Biggs St, St Albans. $654.72.

Rasaratnam, Brinhesha. 15 Tooram Rd, Mount Waverley. $612.00.

Reichl, Phyllis. 3 St James Ave, Mont Albert. $697.38.

Rinnovasi, Marco. 17, 15-33 Balmain Dr, Carrum Downs. $873.95.

Rodgers, David Scott. 75 Waverley St, Moonee Ponds. $736.32.

Ryrie Investment Services Pty Ltd ACD Ryrie Super Fund. 856 Romsey Rd, Hesket. $1783.10.

Salmon & Salmon ACD D & J Salmon Retire Fund, Daryl & Jocelyn Patricia. 17 Koroit St, Warrnambool. $910.80.

Saunders, Edward Walter. 26 Yeovil Rd, Glen Iris. $1770.00.

Scott, Lois Mabel. ‘Mitford’, 240 Boyds Rd, Flinders. $2088.01.

Seppelt, Anthony John. c/- Collectionpoint, GPO Box 770, Melbourne. $720.72.

Shapcott, Beverley Feldwick. c/Aitken Walker & Strachan. GPO Box 5453, Melbourne. $1530.00.

Simmie, Roy William. c/- Kelly & Chapman Lawyers, PO Box 147, Bentleigh. $637.50.

South North Holdings Pty Ltd. c/Mr Alan Wang, 6 Cypress Ave, Lower Templestowe. $780.00.

Sparre, Campbell Frederick Walker.

7 Dundas St, Glen Iris. $1510.30.

Steinfort ACD Est Dorothy M Kelly, Graeme Edward. PO Box 520, Heidelberg. $1299.77.

Suppiah, Panneer Selvan. 12 Gaynor Cres, Glen Waverley. $861.36.

Sutton Management Pty Ltd ACD Sutton Management P/L. 33 Clements St, Highett. $780.00.

Sweatman, Herbert Lloyd. c/- Osborne & Osborne, PO Box 31, Seymour. $1530.00.

Tait, Robert Spencer. 401 37-39 Queen St, Melbourne. $542.08.

Todd, Donald William. c/- Duncan Todd, 19 Gareth Ave, Beaumaris. $697.38.

Topp, John Richard. c/- McKean & Park Lawyers & Consultants. GPO Box 38A, Melbourne. $612.00.

Verdirame, John David. 1/178 Canterbury Rd, Canterbury. $590.00.

Vigus, Wilbur John Campbell. PO Box 128, Glenroy. $2200.00.

Wager Pty Ltd ACD H S Sekhon Superfund. 106 Gamon St, Yarraville. $2200.00.

Walker, Herbert Adam. PO Box 138, Ballarat. $2789.52.

Waller, Margaret Joan. c/- Heinz & Partners. PO Box 723, Ballarat. $1530.00.

Wedlick, Dorothy Agnes. c/- Northey

Arab Bank Australia Ltd Hamdan, Khaden. 4/25AArthur St, Coburg. $1075.72.

Australia and New Zealand Banking Group Ltd 1st Glen Waverley Police Scottish. PO Box 3045, Wheelers Hill. $4229.02.

A W Dickson P/L. PO Box 4, Ringwood. $5031.01.

Abuel, Teresita Juson. 1 Ranmore Gr, Caroline Springs. $743.80.

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Australia and New Zealand Banking Group Ltd

AD Crocker Pty Ltd. 1306A Mair St W, Lake Wendouree. #36,679.74.

Adams, Francis & Lillian. 225 Konagaderra Rd, Oaklands Junction. $1582.51.

Air One Charters. 1 Sharps Rd, Tullamarine. $9689.26.

Alan Wainwright J Okno & Co. Level 3, 170 Queen St, Melbourne. $8774.80.

Alexopoulos, Joanna. 32 Billing St, Springvale. $6068.42.

All Nabeel Asgar. 105 Victoria Knox Ave, Rowville. $546.22.

Amoruso, Angela Rafaela. Lot 77 Farmhouse Blvd, Epping. $1283.50.

Angelis, George. F2, 24 Gourlay St, Balaclava. $4318.60.

Anthroposophical Soc Vic Michael Group. 213 Wonga Rd, Warranwod. $1813.63.

ANZ Banking Group Ltd. c/Johnson Taylor Potter, 2-10 Moorabool St, Geelong. $656.81.

ANZ D & S Social Club. 26, 87-115 Nelson Pl, Williamstown. $700.93.

ANZ Staff. 409 High St, Northcote. $503.90..

Arend & Gwendoline M Posthumous, Arend & Gwendoline M. 5 Hopetoun Rd, Drouin. $6967.66.

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Page 26 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012 - Page 27

Page 28 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012

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Victoria Pictorial

Christmas In Melbourne Historic Photo Collection

● Powerhouse Club members entertain children of personell serving overseas. Christmas Day 1943.

● Father Christmas in a chariot pulled by RAAF personnel at a sports carnival held at Flemington racecourse. 1942

● Major D. V. Rogers distributing Returned Services League and Melbourne Sun newspaper Christmas parcels to Private W. A. J. Underwood. 1954.

● Voluntary workers preparing Christmas dinner at the Independent Hall, Melbourne. 1944.

● Serviceman’s wife gets help from women postal staff in sending parcels in Melbourne. December, 1943

● Christmas dinner. Melbourne home. 1958.

● Mr W Gordon, ventriloquist, providing laughter at Christmas celebrations held at Albert Park. 1944.

● Sisters at ‘Heidelberg Military Hospital’ serving cool drinks on the wards during Christmas Day celebrations, 1944.

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012 - Page 29

Page 30 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Melbourne

Observer

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Travellers’ Good Buys

with David Ellis

Lured by spirit of Amelia Earhart

■ An oceanographic research ship slipped almost unnoticed out of Honolulu on the 2nd of this month bound for a miniscule dot in the ocean called Nikumaroro in little Kiribati, one of the tiniest island nations in the vast Pacific.

Aboard was a team of scientists and aviation enthusiasts keen to solve the mystery that’s baffled researchers for 75 years: whatever happened to pioneering American aviatrix Amelia Earhart?

For most it was the seventh such working holiday for their group call TIGHAR –The International Group For Historic Aircraft Recovery – to uninhabited little Nikumaroro.

In 1928 Earhart became the first woman to fly across the Atlantic ... or to be more precise ... the first women to be flown across the Atlantic: an aviator named William Stultz was at the controls doing the actual flying.

But it made Amelia famous, and in the next few years she set numerous aviation records.

However at the age of 39 she was at the controls of a Lockheed Electra trying to fly around the world at the equator, when she disappeared with navigator Fred Noonan after taking off from Lae in New Guinea on July 2, 1937, three-quarters of a century ago.

A host of bizarre theories surrounded her disappearance: Some theorised she was on a spy flight for

● Amelia Earhart in the cockpit

Observer Wines & Liqueurs Melbourne

with David Ellis

Misconceptions of a good sherry ■ Sherry never springs to front of mind when talk turns to wine styles and varietals, and sadly sales here are minimal as a good drop is most rewarding.

Perhaps its purely ignorance: there are those who simply know nothing about it, others who link it to little old ladies in darkened sitting rooms, and others who think it the choice of those who drink from brown paper bags on park benches.

Sherry was in fact one of the first wines made here from vines brought out on the First Fleet, but because of trade agreements with Spain and the EU we can no longer call our homegrown product “sherry.”

And one of our best local exponents today is Andrew Birks, who has just released a Birks Chip Dry Fino (Fino being Spanish for “fine”) that in one word can best be described as “fantastic.”

Andrew was one-time Chief Fortified Winemaker for Lindemans, later head of the Wine Science School at Charles Sturt University in Wagga Wagga, and has done stints as a guest winemaker and speaker in sherry’s home-country Spain.

And so passionate is he about it, he even set up a solera (sherry-making cellar) under his home in Wagga, his wines going on to win multiple international awards.

His Birks Chip Dry Fino is a great drop to enjoy really cold as an aperitif with tapas such as olives, salted almonds, oysters and seafoods, and even mild cheeses; he’s made just a thousand 375ml bottles at $25.

Get onto it quickly and order through Bidgeebong Wines (02) 6931 9955 or winery@bidgeebong.com.au

One For Lunch ■ 2010 gave Coonawarra one of its earliest and best vintages ever, and once again Katnook Estate came up trumps with a Founder’s Block 2010 Chardonnay from fruit that enjoyed below average rainfall and above average temperatures.

This wonderfully elegant drop has peaches and melons to the forefront and nice Chardonnay “butteriness.” A great drop at $18 with seafood in a creamy sauce.

Pictured ■ Forget the brown paper bag, this is seriously good as an aperitif with tapas ■ Great match with seafood in a nice creamy sauce.

the United States as World War II was looming, and that she was captured and killed by the Japanese.

Others suggested that tired of her celebrity status, she “disappeared” on purpose to live back in the United States under an assumed name – Whatever, she certainly wasn’t abducted by aliens, like the Close Encounters of the Third Kind suggested.

TIGHAR members have always believed Amelia’s aircraft ran out of fuel and crashed and sank while trying to land on Nikumaroro.

This theory gained the support of US Secretary of State Hilary Clinton earlier this year after the release of a 1937 British Navy photo showing what looks like a piece of Lockheed landing gear on the island.

And experts are also examining an anti-freckle cream jar just like Amelia used and recently found on the unoccupied island.

Now while TIGHAR’s people continue their search, divert to the little town of Atchison in Kansas USA that was the birthplace of Amelia Earhart in 1897, and where later this month locals will celebrate their annual Amelia Earhart Festival that’s held every July, halfway between the anniversaries of her birth and disappearance.

But it’s not just Amelia Earhart who draws tourists to Atchison: the town’s reputedly one of the most haunted in the world, luring devout ghost hunters from around the globe and the lessconvinced to ghost tours of the picturesque town on a special trolleybus.

This includes the main street where in the 19th century a woman travelling in a buggy lost control of her horses and plummeted into the adjacent, freezing Missouri River. Her body was never found, but today men walking along the riverbank claim they’ve heard a woman calling to them to save her in the murky waters.

There’s also the Gargoyle House once owned by a local politician who allegedly did a deal with the Devil, and became very rich.

He erected the gargoyles as a thank you to the Devil – all subsequent owners of the house who tried to remove them have suffered freakish accidental deaths.

Jackson Park in the centre of town is also reputedly haunted, by the ghost of Molly, a college girl who hanged herself from a tree in the park after an argument with her boyfriend.

Or was it murder? Whatever, she keeps appearing in the predawn hours ….

And what about Sallie, a young lass who haunts a house in North Second Street and is said to lurk in waiting for unsuspecting men, before gouging their eyes out?

Tourists are also encouraged to visit Atchison’s Mt Vernon Cemetery at night and make rubbings of inscriptions from the tombs as souvenirs of their visit – although they’re warned that some of the spirits of people buried in the graveyard may subsequently accompany them home…

And while Atchison has plenty of ghosts, Amelia Earhart is not one of them – her spirit’s said to still lay in tranquil Nikumaroro.

■ If you are interested in the current search for Amelia Earhart, log on to www.tighar.org - David Ellis

Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012 - Page 31

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Travel Extra

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Page 32 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012

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Travel Extra

Currumbin Sands Apartments

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At Currumbin Sands you can surf the local point break at the Alley, watch the kids swim in the calm waters of the creek, fish along the quiet river bank, walk barefoot together along the ocean beach and make lasting memories.

The Currumbin Sands resort itself enjoys a very high repeat booking rate with loyal guests coming back year after year. This family friendly three story complex offers generous 1,2 and 3 bedroom apartment sizes with a variety of pool, garden, river or beach views from each individual apartment.

Guests have key access to the private

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012 - Page 33

SEAMARK ON FIRST

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PHONE FOR OUR SPECIALS

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Page 34 - Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Places To Go

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Melbourne Observer - Wednesday, October 3, 2012 - Page 35

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Observer Classic Books

Les Misérables by Victor Hugo his head slowly from right to left and from left to right in the sort of mute and melancholy protest with which he had contented himself since the beginning of the argument. Two or three times the spectators who were nearest to him heard him say in a low voice, “That is what comes of not having asked M. Baloup.” The district-attorney directed the attention of the jury to this stupid attitude, evidently deliberate, which denoted not imbecility, but craft, skill, a habit of deceiving justice, and which set forth in all its nakedness the “profound perversity” of this man. He ended by making his reserves on the affair of Little Gervais and demanding a severe sentence.

At that time, as the reader will remember, it was penal servitude for life.

The counsel for the defence rose, began by complimenting Monsieur l’Avocat–General on his “admirable speech,” then replied as best he could; but he weakened; the ground was evidently slipping away from under his feet.

CHAPTER IX A PLACE WHERE CONVICTIONS ARE IN PROCESS OF FORMATION

In the face of this accusation, in the face of the unanimity of the witnesses, the accused appeared to be astonished more than anything else; he made signs and gestures which were meant to convey No, or else he stared at the ceiling: he spoke with difficulty, replied with embarrassment, but his whole person, from head to foot, was a denial; he was an idiot in the presence of all these minds ranged in order of battle around him, and like a stranger in the midst of this society which was seizing fast upon him; nevertheless, it was a question of the most menacing future for him; the likeness increased every moment, and the entire crowd surveyed, with more anxiety than he did himself, that sentence freighted with calamity, which descended ever closer over his head; there was even a glimpse of a possibility afforded; besides the galleys, a possible death penalty, in case his identity were established, and the affair of Little Gervais were to end thereafter in condemnation. Who was this man? what was the nature of his apathy? was it imbecility or craft? Did he understand too well, or did he not understand at all? these were questions which divided the crowd, and seemed to divide the jury; there was something both terrible and puzzling in this case: the drama was not only melancholy; it was also obscure.

The counsel for the defence had spoken tolerably well, in that provincial tongue which has long constituted the eloquence of the bar, and which was formerly employed by all advocates, at Paris as well as at Romorantin or at Montbrison, and which today, having become classic, is no longer spoken except by the official orators of magistracy, to whom it is suited on account of its grave sonorousness and its majestic stride; a tongue in which a husband is called a consort, and a woman a spouse; Paris, the centre of art and civilization; the king, the monarch; Monseigneur the Bishop, a sainted pontiff; the district-attorney, the eloquent interpreter of public prosecution; the arguments, the accents which we have just listened to; the age of Louis XIV., the grand age; a theatre, the temple of Melpomene; the reigning family, the august blood of our kings; a concert, a musical solemnity; the General Commandant of the province, the illustrious warrior, who, etc.; the pupils in the seminary, these tender levities; errors imputed to newspapers, the imposture which distills its venom through the columns of those organs; etc. The lawyer had, accordingly, begun with an explanation as to the theft of the apples,— an awkward matter couched in fine style; but Benigne Bossuet himself was obliged to allude to a chicken in the midst of a funeral oration, and he extricated himself from the situation in stately fashion. The lawyer established the fact that the theft of the apples had not been circumstantially proved. His client, whom he, in his character of counsel, persisted in calling Champmathieu, had not been seen scaling that wall nor breaking that branch by any one. He had been taken with that branch (which the lawyer preferred to call a bough) in his possession; but he said that he had found it broken off and lying on the ground, and had picked it up. Where was there any proof to the contrary? No doubt that branch had been broken off and concealed after the scaling of the wall, then thrown away by the alarmed marauder; there was no doubt that there had been a thief in the case. But what proof was there that that thief had been Champmathieu? One thing only. His character as an ex-convict. The lawyer did not deny that that character appeared to be, unhappily, well attested; the accused had resided at Faverolles; the accused had exercised the calling of a treepruner there; the name of Champmathieu might well have had its origin in Jean Mathieu; all that was true,— in short, four witnesses recognize Champmathieu, positively and without hesitation, as that convict, Jean Valjean; to these signs, to this testimony, the counsel could oppose nothing but the denial of his client, the denial of an interested party; but supposing that he was the convict Jean Valjean, did that prove that he was

CHAPTER IX THE SYSTEM OF DENIALS

● Victor Hugo the thief of the apples? that was a presumption at the most, not a proof. The prisoner, it was true, and his counsel, “in good faith,” was obliged to admit it, had adopted “a bad system of defence.” He obstinately denied everything, the theft and his character of convict. An admission upon this last point would certainly have been better, and would have won for him the indulgence of his judges; the counsel had advised him to do this; but the accused had obstinately refused, thinking, no doubt, that he would save everything by admitting nothing. It was an error; but ought not the paucity of this intelligence to be taken into consideration? This man was visibly stupid. Long-continued wretchedness in the galleys, long misery outside the galleys, had brutalized him, etc. He defended himself badly; was that a reason for condemning him? As for the affair with Little Gervais, the counsel need not discuss it; it did not enter into the case. The lawyer wound up by beseeching the jury and the court, if the identity of Jean Valjean appeared to them to be evident, to apply to him the police penalties which are provided for a criminal who has broken his ban, and not the frightful chastisement which descends upon the convict guilty of a second offence.

The district-attorney answered the counsel for the defence. He was violent and florid, as district-attorneys usually are.

He congratulated the counsel for the defence on his “loyalty,” and skilfully took advantage of this loyalty. He reached the accused through all the concessions made by his lawyer. The advocate had seemed to admit that the prisoner was Jean Valjean. He took note of this. So this man was Jean Valjean. This point had been conceded to the accusation and could no longer be disputed.

Here, by means of a clever autonomasia which went back to the sources and causes of crime, the district-attorney thundered against the immorality of the romantic school, then dawning under the name of the Satanic school, which had been bestowed upon it by the critics of the

Quotidienne and the Oriflamme; he attributed, not without some probability, to the influence of this perverse literature the crime of Champmathieu, or rather, to speak more correctly, of Jean Valjean. Having exhausted these considerations, he passed on to Jean Valjean himself. Who was this Jean Valjean? Description of Jean Valjean: a monster spewed forth, etc. The model for this sort of description is contained in the tale of Theramene, which is not useful to tragedy, but which every day renders great services to judicial eloquence. The audience and the jury “shuddered.” The description finished, the district-attorney resumed with an oratorical turn calculated to raise the enthusiasm of the journal of the prefecture to the highest pitch on the following day: And it is such a man, etc., etc., etc., vagabond, beggar, without means of existence, etc., etc., inured by his past life to culpable deeds, and but little reformed by his sojourn in the galleys, as was proved by the crime committed against Little Gervais, etc., etc.; it is such a man, caught upon the highway in the very act of theft, a few paces from a wall that had been scaled, still holding in his hand the object stolen, who denies the crime, the theft, the climbing the wall; denies everything; denies even his own identity! In addition to a hundred other proofs, to which we will not recur, four witnesses recognize him — Javert, the upright inspector of police; Javert, and three of his former companions in infamy, the convicts Brevet, Chenildieu, and Cochepaille. What does he offer in opposition to this overwhelming unanimity? His denial. What obduracy! You will do justice, gentlemen of the jury, etc., etc. While the district-attorney was speaking, the accused listened to him open-mouthed, with a sort of amazement in which some admiration was assuredly blended. He was evidently surprised that a man could talk like that. From time to time, at those “energetic” moments of the prosecutor’s speech, when eloquence which cannot contain itself overflows in a flood of withering epithets and envelops the accused like a storm, he moved

The moment for closing the debate had arrived.

The President had the accused stand up, and addressed to him the customary question, “Have you anything to add to your defence?”

The man did not appear to understand, as he stood there, twisting in his hands a terrible cap which he had.

The President repeated the question.

This time the man heard it. He seemed to understand. He made a motion like a man who is just waking up, cast his eyes about him, stared at the audience, the gendarmes, his counsel, the jury, the court, laid his monstrous fist on the rim of woodwork in front of his bench, took another look, and all at once, fixing his glance upon the district-attorney, he began to speak. It was like an eruption. It seemed, from the manner in which the words escaped from his mouth,— incoherent, impetuous, pell-mell, tumbling over each other,— as though they were all pressing forward to issue forth at once. He said:— “This is what I have to say. That I have been a wheelwright in Paris, and that it was with Monsieur Baloup. It is a hard trade. In the wheelwright’s trade one works always in the open air, in courtyards, under sheds when the masters are good, never in closed workshops, because space is required, you see. In winter one gets so cold that one beats one’s arms together to warm one’s self; but the masters don’t like it; they say it wastes time. Handling iron when there is ice between the paving-stones is hard work. That wears a man out quickly One is old while he is still quite young in that trade. At forty a man is done for. I was fifty-three. I was in a bad state. And then, workmen are so mean!

When a man is no longer young, they call him nothing but an old bird, old beast! I was not earning more than thirty sous a day. They paid me as little as possible. The masters took advantage of my age — and then I had my daughter, who was a laundress at the river. She earned a little also. It sufficed for us two. She had trouble, also; all day long up to her waist in a tub, in rain, in snow. When the wind cuts your face, when it freezes, it is all the same; you must still wash.

There are people who have not much linen, and wait until late; if you do not wash, you lose your custom. The planks are badly joined, and water drops on you from everywhere; you have your petticoats all damp above and below. That penetrates. She has also worked at the laundry of the Enfants–Rouges, where the water comes through faucets. You are not in the tub there; you wash at the faucet in front of you, and rinse in a basin behind you. As it is enclosed, you are not so cold; but there is that hot steam, which is terrible, and which ruins your eyes. She came home at seven o’clock in the evening, and went to bed at once, she was so tired. Her husband beat her. She is dead. We have not been very happy. She was a good girl, who did not go to the ball, and who was very peaceable. I remember one Shrove–Tuesday when she went to bed at eight o’clock. There, I am telling the truth; you

Continued on Page 35

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From Page 35 have only to ask. Ah, yes! how stupid I am!

Paris is a gulf. Who knows Father Champmathieu there? But M. Baloup does, I tell you. Go see at M. Baloup’s; and after all, I don’t know what is wanted of me.”

The man ceased speaking, and remained standing. He had said these things in a loud, rapid, hoarse voice, with a sort of irritated and savage ingenuousness. Once he paused to salute some one in the crowd. The sort of affirmations which he seemed to fling out before him at random came like hiccoughs, and to each he added the gesture of a wood-cutter who is splitting wood.

When he had finished, the audience burst into a laugh. He stared at the public, and, perceiving that they were laughing, and not understanding why, he began to laugh himself.

It was inauspicious.

The President, an attentive and benevolent man, raised his voice.

He reminded “the gentlemen of the jury” that “the sieur Baloup, formerly a master-wheelwright, with whom the accused stated that he had served, had been summoned in vain. He had become bankrupt, and was not to be found.”

Then turning to the accused, he enjoined him to listen to what he was about to say, and added: “You are in a position where reflection is necessary. The gravest presumptions rest upon you, and may induce vital results. Prisoner, in your own interests, I summon you for the last time to explain yourself clearly on two points. In the first place, did you or did you not climb the wall of the Pierron orchard, break the branch, and steal the apples; that is to say, commit the crime of breaking in and theft? In the second place, are you the discharged convict, Jean Valjean — yes or no?”

The prisoner shook his head with a capable air, like a man who has thoroughly understood, and who knows what answer he is going to make.

He opened his mouth, turned towards the President, and said:— “In the first place —” Then he stared at his cap, stared at the ceiling, and held his peace.

“Prisoner,” said the district-attorney, in a severe voice; “pay attention. You are not answering anything that has been asked of you. Your embarrassment condemns you. It is evident that

your name is not Champmathieu; that you are the convict, Jean Valjean, concealed first under the name of Jean Mathieu, which was the name of his mother; that you went to Auvergne; that you were born at Faverolles, where you were a pruner of trees. It is evident that you have been guilty of entering, and of the theft of ripe apples from the Pierron orchard. The gentlemen of the jury will form their own opinion.”

The prisoner had finally resumed his seat; he arose abruptly when the district-attorney had finished, and exclaimed:— “You are very wicked; that you are! This what I wanted to say; I could not find words for it at first. I have stolen nothing. I am a man who does not have something to eat every day. I was coming from Ailly; I was walking through the country after a shower, which had made the whole country yellow: even the ponds were overflowed, and nothing sprang from the sand any more but the little blades of grass at the wayside. I found a broken branch with apples on the ground; I picked up the branch without knowing that it would get me into trouble. I have been in prison, and they have been dragging me about for the last three months; more than that I cannot say; people talk against me, they tell me, ‘Answer!’ The gendarme, who is a good fellow, nudges my elbow, and says to me in a low voice, ‘Come, answer!’ I don’t know how to explain; I have no education; I am a poor man; that is where they wrong me, because they do not see this. I have not stolen; I picked up from the ground things that were lying there. You say, Jean Valjean, Jean Mathieu! I don’t know those persons; they are villagers. I worked for M. Baloup, Boulevard de l’Hopital; my name is Champmathieu. You are very clever to tell me where I was born; I don’t know myself: it’s not everybody who has a house in which to come into the world; that would be too convenient. I think that my father and mother were people who strolled along the highways; I know nothing different. When I was a child, they called me young fellow; now they call me old fellow; those are my baptismal names; take that as you like. I have been in Auvergne; I have been at Faverolles. Pardi. Well! can’t a man have been in Auvergne, or at Faverolles, without having been in the galleys? I tell you that I have not stolen, and that I am Father Champmathieu; I

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have been with M. Baloup; I have had a settled residence. You worry me with your nonsense, there! Why is everybody pursuing me so furiously?”

The district-attorney had remained standing; he addressed the President:— “Monsieur le President, in view of the confused but exceedingly clever denials of the prisoner, who would like to pass himself off as an idiot, but who will not succeed in so doing,— we shall attend to that,— we demand that it shall please you and that it shall please the court to summon once more into this place the convicts Brevet, Cochepaille, and Chenildieu, and Police–Inspector Javert, and question them for the last time as to the identity of the prisoner with the convict Jean Valjean.”

“I would remind the district-attorney,” said the President, “that Police–Inspector Javert, recalled by his duties to the capital of a neighboring arrondissement, left the court-room and the town as soon as he had made his deposition; we have accorded him permission, with the consent of the district-attorney and of the counsel for the prisoner.”

“That is true, Mr. President,” responded the district-attorney. “In the absence of sieur Javert, I think it my duty to remind the gentlemen of the jury of what he said here a few hours ago. Javert is an estimable man, who does honor by his rigorous and strict probity to inferior but important functions. These are the terms of his deposition: ‘I do not even stand in need of circumstantial proofs and moral presumptions to give the lie to the prisoner’s denial. I recognize him perfectly. The name of this man is not Champmathieu; he is an ex-convict named Jean Valjean, and is very vicious and much to be feared. It is only with extreme regret that he was released at the expiration of his term. He underwent nineteen years of penal servitude for theft. He made five or six attempts to escape.

Besides the theft from Little Gervais, and from the Pierron orchard, I suspect him of a theft committed in the house of His Grace the late Bishop of D—— I often saw him at the time when I was adjutant of the galley-guard at the prison in Toulon. I repeat that I recognize him perfectly.’”

This extremely precise statement appeared to produce a vivid impression on the public and on the jury. The district-attorney concluded by in-

sisting, that in default of Javert, the three witnesses Brevet, Chenildieu, and Cochepaille should be heard once more and solemnly interrogated.

The President transmitted the order to an usher, and, a moment later, the door of the witnesses’ room opened. The usher, accompanied by a gendarme ready to lend him armed assistance, introduced the convict Brevet. The audience was in suspense; and all breasts heaved as though they had contained but one soul.

The ex-convict Brevet wore the black and gray waistcoat of the central prisons. Brevet was a person sixty years of age, who had a sort of business man’s face, and the air of a rascal.

The two sometimes go together. In prison, whither fresh misdeeds had led him, he had become something in the nature of a turnkey. He was a man of whom his superiors said, “He tries to make himself of use.” The chaplains bore good testimony as to his religious habits. It must not be forgotten that this passed under the Restoration.

“Brevet,” said the President, “you have undergone an ignominious sentence, and you cannot take an oath.”

Brevet dropped his eyes.

“Nevertheless,” continued the President, “even in the man whom the law has degraded, there may remain, when the divine mercy permits it, a sentiment of honor and of equity. It is to this sentiment that I appeal at this decisive hour. If it still exists in you,— and I hope it does,— reflect before replying to me: consider on the one hand, this man, whom a word from you may ruin; on the other hand, justice, which a word from you may enlighten.

To Be Continued Next Issue Due to last-minute production problems, Yvonne’s Column, the Surprise Birthday Party photo page and the Observer Readers Club have been held over.

Our apologies.

Observer Crossword Solution No 11 F L OP P I E R A Z U K I CHOR T L E S E N U D I S H E E P S N O M H AG R EG I ME N D N P E B F OR E S AW W N R UN S T UD I E N N N N L I A I S I NG O R E U VO L T AGE E U L NO D E POS E D R V MO I E NC AMP M I L L E A L E T SGO G A R E Y R I ME A N T N E W B A N A T R E L A Y S X T H A I A PO L L O O E A R I N P L A S T E R P R R E I MA R T I N I I P G E N I CHO L A S T O L T OU T S I D E R N P I EMB A S S Y A R MA N I N I T I A L L A Y E A H Y E N A S B A D MA U MA RGA R E T N G N E I D E S C E ND S

N V U N B I N D S

N S P E L L S N

A S S I G N S T E

E X C A V A I GU Y RO A E L MA ND E E N N H E C T L E R L EON P W F UNG HUN I L L U S T O O H E C K L E K V R A I S E T N N OUGH T N I S AM I D I E UNCOU D U U F OS U L I L L O Y D E M L F I B R E T U N ODDME V S S E NME S R E A I N T R T R H E A V L E M R E P A T M C H A B I T A A I T URNO G N S CO T S

A T E H A S P E S D Y L L A O N Y L I C L T E N S E E ME A T I R S UND E E P S A E R S O M M I A I P N T O T L E E I R E L M V P L E E R T A T T S P I P L E I E D T RU I P N T S E A V H M OP E N O N T E E N E S R E S P S T L CH A U E T T BO V E R R A Y MA N

E T N A

L DOR A DO E N W A Z A R E T H N N S O I NDOOR S ON O M T GA ND E R E S T I OR R H E A T S A X E N T S I N A N E A E S OR B B T S E T S E L M U I D E A RMU F F S D M Y T OW O V I N E OWN N A EM E DGE D A I D E M A ND MOB S P O I R P A L A T I A L A I A C L E S S U I T N E T S N A T WE DGE R S I I M C E N E R V E A K T R S T A L L I NG E S E N I P A S T E RN A I R S AG R ROA S T AGE W C T S L A S H E C T R E L A S S E N T F F C E P F I A NC E E N E L K N O I L P A I N T ON E N N EG L I GE E

T ON E D E NOM M V WA R B L I V E R E C R P R E T A S T E L D H A S B E D E A L O I N I TW I C N E T R AGE D I S R F M EGG F L I U O T A I R B A OMB T T L E S S E NGE R L E ME A D A N T I N G N AGG CH E E P E I P L A U S U A L R K ME A S T HOU P A L E A D I NC E C U T T E R OA R E E R E A P E E T L E NG I N E S T M C UN S C E N T L R U T MA R A U A T E D N N S L A C K A S S E E T D E S I OA H T G MA NHO L U P S I O S P A C I O

A F O NG G T Y H E N A T S R E S I P S T S E R E S V OW K E D I Z A R L Y I T O R E D E R S I E R E E D N D S L E N S S T E E S T U S

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