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title: 'The National tribune. (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, October 08, 1881, Page 2, Image 2',
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THE NATIONAL TBIBUNE V ASHINGTON, D. C, OCTOBEB 8, 1881.
For The National Tribunk.
A stalwart tree fell in the forest at midnight,
And crushed a tender violet growing beneath its shade:
The morning appeared with its glittering crown of sun-
And sweet the fragrant memory of the flower tilled the
A manly form went down in the midst of battle,
And crushed a tender, wifely, womanly heart as It fell :
The morrow came on, and the innocent childish prattle
Of A if sweet picture tenderly poured blest comfort in
The ivv twined about the tree that had perished.
And flourished bravely, hiding the ruin that lay beneath,
And sorrow drew back from the heart that had mourned,
and tho' cherish'd,
The form that fell in the battle was veiled by a new
THE IRON SHROUD.
JY WILLIAM 3IlTDF0Itn.
The castle of the Prince of Tolfi was built on
the summit of the towering and precipitous rock
of Scylla, and commanded a magnificent view of
Sicily in all its grandeur. Here, during the wars
of the Middle Ages, when the fertile plains of
Italy were devastated by hostile factions, those
prisoners were confined for whose ransom a costly
price was demanded. Here, too, in a dungeon
excavated deep in the solid rock, the miserable
victim was immured whom revenge pursued
the dark, fierce, and unpitying revenge of an j
Italian heart, j
yivensio. the noble and the generous, the
fearless in battle, and the pride of Naples in her
sunny hours of peace, the young, the brave, the
nroud Vivenzio, fell beneath this subtle and re
morseless spirit. He was the prisoner of Tolfi;
and lie languished in that rock-encircled dun
geon, which stood alone, and whose portals never
opened twice upon a living captive.
It had the semblance of a vast cage ; for the roof
and floor and sides were of iron, solidly wrought
and spaciously constructed. High above ran a
range of seven grated windows, guarded with
massy bars of the same metal, which admitted
light and air. Save these, and the tall folding
doors beneath them, which occupied the centre,
no chink or chasm or projection broke the smooth.
black surface of the walls. An iron bedstead, j
littered with straw, stood in one corner, and, j
beside it, a vessel of water, and a coarse dish ;
filled with coarser food.
Even the intrepid soul of Vivenzio shrunk
with dismay as he entered this abode, and heard
the ponderous doors triple-locked by the silent
ruffians who conducted him to it. Their silence
seemed prophetic of his fate, of the living grave i
that had been prepared for him. His menaces t
and his entreaties, his indignant appeals for j
justice, and his impatient questioning of their j
intentions, were alike vain. They listened but
spoke not. Fit ministers of a crime that should
have no tongue !
How dismal was the sound of their retiring
steps ! And, as their faint echoes died along the
winding passage, a fearful presage grew within
him, that nevermore the face or voice or tread of :
man would greet his senses, lie naa seen human j
beings for the last time ! And he had. looked his j
last upon the bright sky and upon the smiling
earth and upon a beautiful world he loved, and
whose minion he had been ! Here he was to end
his life, a life he had just begun to revel in ! And
by what means ? By secret poison, or by mur
derous assault? No: for then it had been need
less to bring him thither. Famine perhaps, a
thousand deaths in one ! It was terrible to think
of it: but it was yet more terrible to picture
long, long years of captivity in a solitude so ap
palling, a loneliness so dreary, that thought, for I
want of fellowship, would lose itself in madness,
or stagnate into idiocy.
He could not hope to escape, unless he had the
power, with his bare hands, of rending asunder
the solid iron walls of his prison. He could not
hope for liberty from the relenting mercies of his j
enemy. His instant death, under any form of re
fined cruelty, was not the object of Tolfi ; for he
might have inflicted it, and he had not. It was
too evident, therefore, he was resrved for some
premeditated scheme of subtle vengeance ; and
what vengeance could transcend in fiendish
malice either the slow death of famine or the
still slower one of solitary incarceration till the
last lingering spark of life expired, or till reason
fled, and nothing should remain to perish but
the brute functions of the body?
It was evening when Vivenzio entered his
dungeon : and the approaching shades of night
wrapped it in total darkness, as he paced up and
down, revolving in his mind these horrible fore
bodings. No tolling bell from the castle, or from
any neighboring church or convent, struck upon
his ears to tell how the hours passed. Frequently
he would stop and listen for some sound that
might betoken the vicinity of man; but the
solitude of the desert, the silence of the tomb,
are not so still and deep as the oppressive desola
tion by which he was encompassed. His heart
sunk within him, and he threw himself dejectedly
upon his couch of straw. Here sleep gradually
obliterated the consciousness of misery; and
bland dreams wafted his delighted spirit to scenes
which were once glowing realities for him, in
whose ravishing illusions he soon lost the re
membrance that he was Tolfi's prisoner.
When he awoke, it was dajiight; but how
long he had slept he knew not. It might be
early morning, or it might be sultry noon ; for
he could measure time by no other note of its
progress than light and darkness. I le had been
so happy in his .sleep, amid friends who loved
him, and the sweeter endearments of those who
loved him as friends could not, that, in the first
moments of waking, his startled mind seemed to
admit the knowledge of his situation, as if it had
hurst upon it for the first time, fresh in all its ap
palling horrors. He gazed round with an air of
doubt and amazement, and took up a handful of
the straw upon which he lay, as though he would
ask himself what it meant. But memory, too
faithful to her office, soon unveiled the melan
choly past, while reason, shuddering at the task,
flashed before his eyes the tremendous future.
The contrast overpowed him. He remained for
some time lamenting, like a truth, the bright
visions that had vanished, and recoiling from the
present, which clung to him as a poisoned garment.
"When he grew more calm, he surveyed his
gloomy dungeon. Alas! the stronger light of
day had served to confirm what the gloomy in
distinctness of the previous evening had partially
disclosed the utter impossibility of escape. As,
however, his eyes wandered round and round,
and from place to place, he noticed two circum
stances which excited his surprise and curiosity.
The one, he thought, might be fancy; but the
other was positive. His pitcher of water and
the dish which contained his food had been re
moved from his side while he slept, and now
stood near the door. Were he even inclined to
doubt this, by supposing he had mistaken the
spot where he saw them over night, he could
not; for the pitcher now in his dungeon was
neither of the same form nor color as the other,
while the food was changed for some other of
better quality. He had been visited therefore
during the night. But how had the person ob
tained entrance ? Could he have slept so soundly
that the unlocking and opening of those pon
derous portals were effected without waking
him? He would have said this was not pos
sible, but that, in doing so, he must admit a
greater difficulty, an entrance by other means, of
which, he was convinced, none existed. It was
not intended, then, that he should be left to
perish from hunger : but the secret and myste
rious mode of supplying him with food seemed
to indicate he was to have no opportunity of
communicating with a human being.
The other circumstance which had attracted
his notice was tho disappearance, as he believed,
of one of the seven grated windows that ran
along the top of his prison. He felt confident
that he had observed and counted them ; for he
was rather surprised at their number, and there
was something peculiar in their form, as well as
in the manner of their arragement, at unequal
distances. It was so much easier, however, to
suppose he was mistaken than that a portion of
the solid iron which formed the walls could have
escaped from its position, that he soon dismissed
the thought from his mind.
Vivenzio partook of the food that was before
him without apprehension. It might be poisoned ;
but, if it were, he knew he could not escape death,
should such be the design of Tolfi; and the
quickest death would be the speediest relief.
The day passed wearily and gloomily, though
not without a faint hope that, by keeping watch
at night, he might observe when the person came
again to bring him food, which he supposed he
would do in the same way as before. The mere
thought of being approached by a living creature,
and the opportunity it might present of learning
the doom prepared or preparing for him, im
parted some comfort. Besides, if he came alone,
might he not in a furious onset overpower him ?
Or he might be accessible to pity, or the influence
of such munificent rewards as he could bestow
if once more at liberty and master of himself.
Say he were armed. The worst that could befall,
if nor bribe nor prayers nor force prevailed, was
a faithful blow, which, though dealt in a damned
cause, might work a desired end. There was no
chance so desperate but it looked lovely in
Vivenzio's eyes, compared with the idea of being
totally abandoned. t
The night came, and Vivenzio watched. Morn
ing came, and Vivenzio was confounded. He
must have slumbered without knowing it. Sleep
must have stolen over him when exhausted by
fatigue; and, in that interval of feverish repose,
he had been baffled; for there stood his re
plenished pitcher of water, and there his day's
meal. Nor was this all. Casting his looks to
ward the windows of his dungeon, he counted
but five ! Here was no deception ; and he was
now convinced there had been none the day
before. But what did all this portend? Into
what strange and mysterious den had he been
cast? He gazed till his eyes ached; he could
discover nothing to explain the mystery. That
it was so, he knew. Why it was so, he racked
his imagination in vain to conjecture. He ex
amined the doors. A simple circumstance con
vinced him they had not been opened.
A wisp of straw, which he had carelessly
thrown against them the preceding day, as he
paced to and fro. remained where he had cast it,
though it must have been displaced by the
slightest motion of either of the doors. This
was evidence that could not be disputed; and it
followed there must be some secret machinery in
the walls by which a person could enter. He
inspected them closely. They appeared to him
one solid and compact mass of iron; or joined,
if joined they were, with such nice art that
no mark of division was perceptible. Again
and again he surveyed them, and the floor and
the roof, and that Tange of visionary windows,
as he was now almost tempted to consider them.
He could discover nothing, absolutely nothing,
to relieve his doubts or satisfy his curiosity.
Sometimes he fancied that altogether the dun
geon had a more contracted appearance that
it looked smaller ; but this he ascribed to fancy,
and the impression naturally produced upon his
mind by the undeniable disappearance of two
of the windows.
To be continued.
A. sAVJ.ER'S STORY.
"InevrvoT di j licta man on circumstantial
evidence f v r . uror never! never!"
The sp ;t i . listinguished criminal law
yer of n .trly brt y rears' active practice, and
whose fa. v term..! far beyond the limits of
his own !! te.
We hao en t.- ;sing a recent muse eelcbre
in which -?)-n ' r circumstantial evidence,
a man had rne '. cted of an atrocious mur
der, althou hansr v - those most familiar with
the circuro.-sfaneps the case entertained the
gravest do i a1 i ' ;he justice of his convic
tion, and - .1 ; - swung off into eternity
protesting -is ni)--. ,- innocence with his latest
breath, am . -illr : .. :n God to send his soul
straiditwa . ', b " ; was not telling the truth.
As most of cm ' T were lawyers, the con
versation r.iMirai'i .-: gh drifted into a discus
sion of the ..n.-"- i"g from convicting ac
cused pers 5.-, ' ouths were closed, upon
purely circ . n.i idence, in the absence of
any direct ; : - 5roof of guilt, and case
after caseV;.- civil which, after conviction
and execut .!'!- innocence of the sup
posed cuhr - v . ' clearly demonstrated.
Most of the , iv .. at agreed with the dis
tinguished 1 r cry positive expression
of opinion 1 ' Ml, while the majority
of the lawyi with that earnestness
ted when advocating
ion, that justice could
1 1 j udges guard against
3rdicts by refusing to
fc when every link in
il evidence has been
and the whole chain
nnplete as to leave no
pothesis of innocence.
' ever tried," said one
n fiction, as you will
remarkable as any of
!fl to where innocent
" y convicted upon cir
1 night to have been re
;he trustworthiness of
mony of eye-witnesses
to be the truth."
i points of what was
le and dramatic trial,
fair offset to some of
2 found in every work
:. The narrative pro
fession upon my own
ith his consent, I put
, having first carefully
es of testimony taken
It can be relied upon
i the exception that I
for reasons which will
len it is known that
drama are still living.
for which 1:. xvo. ,
their own si!- t '
never miscai . r-
jermit a co . k '" '
the chain o ii:.
established u I
been made s .
room for any j -1
"The first .: -
of them, "w. " .
the cases yoi )'
men have b on
ported as an
the direct an ' ,
who tell wha "
He then re --.
certainly a m '
and which c
the memorab .
on circumstai.v '
duced so str T r ' '
mind that su
it into the fol . .
compared it ' '
upon the tria
as absolutely i.
have usedfict l
readily be a ': i-
most of the a : v .
One winter -i w-:c t - it eight o'clock, in the
early days of ' '." w ? he quiet town of ,
while patrolli , ; to pick up stragglers
from the cam -i -Y ' arts of the town, Cor
poral Julius ' and killed by one of
three men o: er, who were in com
pany and on -v enmity with the sol
fliers. The, j J i- rested, committed to
prison, and b ' 1 at the next term of
the court. r" were gamblers and
dpsnpradoes. .um to have more than
Oil, what a tangled web we weave
When first we practice to deceive. Scott.
The generous heart
Should scorn a pleasure which gives others pain.
Slave to no sect, who takes no private road,
But looks through Nature up to Nature's God.
Perseverance is a Roman virtue
That wins each godlike act, and plucks success
E'en from the pear-proof crest of rugged danger.
Hale sins with gold, and the strong lance of
Justice hurtless breaks
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it.
I have never known the winter's blast,
Or the quick lightning, or the pestilence
Make nice distinction when let slip
From God's right hand. Holland.
'Tis well to have a theory, and
Sit in the centre of it. Holland.
Let our linger ache and it endues
Our other healthy member, with a sense of pnin,
They say best men are moulded out of faults,
And, for the most, become much more the better
For leiig a little bad. Xhattspcare.
once had their hands stained with blood. The
third, whom I shall call Short, though bearing
an unenviable reputation, was regarded as one
unlikely to slay a fellow-man except under com
pulsory circumstances. On account of the char
acter of the men and the trouble they had already
brought upon the quiet, law-abiding citizens, the
sentiment of the whole community was strongly
In order to clearly understand the force of the
testimony given upon the trial, and the subse
quent result, it is important to bear in mind the
physical peculiarities, dress, and general appear
ance of each of the three prisoners.
Short was a small man of not more than five
feet six inches in height, slender, weighing
scarcly 130 pounds, with bright, fiery-red hair
and side whiskers, and, at the time of the mur
der, wore a white felt hat and an old light-blue
Ryan was fully six feet in height, of robust
frame, with black hair and mustache, dressed in
dark clothes, and wore a dark Derby hat.
Grey was a heavy, broad-shouldered man of
medium height, weighing fully 180 pounds, with
a full black beard reaching nearly to his waist.
But as the evidence subsequently showed that he
had not fired the first shot, it is unnecessary to
describe his appearance more minutely.
Certainly, it is difficult to imagine two men
more unlike than Short and Ryan, or less liable
to be mistaken for each other even by strangers,
much less by their acquaintances. There is no
possibility here for a case of mistaken identity.
Short and Ryan were tried together with their
consent Grey having asked for and obtained a
separate trial and each was defended by separate
After the preliminary proof relating to the
post-mortem examination, the cause of death and
identification of the deceased as the person named
in the indictment, the Commonwealth called as
its first witness a woman, Mary Brown. She
bore a bad reputation, but nobody questioned
her integrity or purpose to tell, reluctantly it is
true, the whole truth. The prisoners were all
her friends, and were constant visitors to the
drinking-saloon of which she was the proprie
tress. She was a woman of powerful physique,
almost masculine frame, great force of character,
and more than ordinary intelligence.
From her testimony it appeared that a colored
woman with whom she had some dispute had hit
her on the head with a stone and ran, and the
three prisoners coining up at the moment started
with her up the street in pursuit of the fugitive.
Although the night was dark there was snow on
the ground and a gas-lamp near by gave sufficient
light to enable one to recognize a person with ease
some feet away. After running about one hun
dred yards the pursuers came to the corner of an
alley and stopped under the gas-lamp, being chal
lenged by the deceased, who was in uniform, in
company Avith one of his squad. She swore that
when the Corporal cried " halt," Short, whom she
had known intimately for years, replied, " Go to
,'; and while standing at her side, so that their
elbows were touching, both being immediately
under the gas-light, he pulled out a pistol, pointed
it at the deceased, who was four or five feet from
him, and fired, and then ran down the alley, the
deceased pursuing him. She heard four or five
shots more fired, and the deceased returned
wounded, and Short disappeared. While the shots
were being fired she saw both Ryan and Grey
standing at the corner some feet away from her,
and after that they separated and she went home.
It was also proved that this alley was bounded
on either side by high fences, difficult to climb,
and led down to a stream of water fifty feet wide
and three or four feet deep. No traces of footsteps
were found in the snow except those of one man
leading down into the stream, and it was evident
that the person who had fled had not climbed
either fence, but had waded through the stream
and disappeared on the other side.
The next witness was the soldier who stood
close by the deceased when the first shot was
fired, and who, not knowing either of the prison
ers, described the person who had fired and ran
down the alley as the man with the red hair and
side whiskers, dressed in a light-blue army over
coat and white felt hat, and upon being directed
to look at the three prisoners, immediately iden
tified Short as the man whom he hail seen do the
The testimony of these witnesses was in no
wise shaken upon cross-examination.
Then the sworn ante-mortem statement of the
deceased, taken by a magistrate, was read to the
jury. He said that he had known Short per
sonally for some time, but had never had any
difficulty with him. He fully identified him as
the man who had fired the first shot, and then
ran down the alley, firing one shot after another
until he fired the last and fatal shot almost in
the face of the deceased. He also fully described
the clothing worn by Short as it had been de
scribed by the witnesses.
These were all the witnesses to the occurrence,
except the prisoners themselves, and, of course,
they must not be heard. The case against Short
seemed to be as conclusively made out as though
a score of witnesses had sworn they had seen him
de the shooting. Neither the judge, the jury,
nor the spectators entertained the slightest doubt
of his guilt, and when the Commonwealth, at
this point, closed its case, it seemed as though
the fatal rope was already around his neck and
Ryan heaved a sigh of relief which was audible
throughout the whole court-room, for he was safe ;
there was not one word of testimony against him
or any circumstances tending to show any pre
vious arrangement or concert of action between
him and Short.
After a whispered consultation between the
counsel for the defense one of them rose and
moved the Court to direct the jury to forthwith
return a verdict of "not guilty" as to Ryan, in
order that he might be called as a witness for the
other prisoner. This was resisted by the Dis
trict Attorney, and, after lengthy and elaborate
arguments, the Court decided that it was bound
to grant the motion, and accordingly Ryan was
declared " not guilty " and the verdict recorded.
Then came a scene as dramatic to those present
as anything ever witnessed on the stage. With
out any opening speech by Short?s counsel, Ryan,
in obediance to a nod from his attorney, stepped
out of the prisoner's dock and into the witness-box,
looked around the court-room, took up the Bible,
and was sworn to tell "the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth." Every head was
bent forward, every ear on the alert, every eye
fixed on the witness something startling was
expected. Would he attempt to show that Short
had done the shooting in self-defense? That
seemed the only thing possible. But how could
he be believed in the face of the positive testi
mony of three witnesses, two of them living and
in the court-room, one of them dead murdered?
Ryan stood for a moment looking down, and
then slowly lifting his eyes to the bench, in a
silence in which the falling of a feather might
have been heard, he said :
"May I ask the Court a question?"
The venerable judge, evidently surprised at
being interrogated, looked at him and said, "cer
"I understand that I am acquitted," said Ryan,
pausing for a moment, and then continuing : " I
want to know from the Court whether anything
I may say now can be ever used against me in
any way ? "
What did he mean ? What need of that ques
tion? Every one looked at his neighbor inquir
ingly. The flushed face of the judge showed that he,
at least, understood what it meant an attempt
to swear his guilty companion out of the hajig
man's grasp. Then in a tone of unmistakable
indignation came the answer :
"I am sorry to say, sir, that nothing you may
say now can be used against you that is, on a
trial for murder. You have been acquitted."
Ryan's face grew pale and red, and he said
slowly and distinctly:
" It was I who fired all the shots not Short."
Most of the faces in the court-room wore looks
of indignation at the hardened wickedness of the
man who had just been declared innocent, and
who, by his own statement, was guilty of murder,
if he was not guilty of perjury.
But quietly and calmly, without a tremor, as
coolly as though he was describing some trivial
occurrence which he had casually witnessed, Ryan
went on step by step, detailing all that had oc
curred, and when he had finished his story there
was probably not a person present who was not
fully convinced not only that Ryan had told the
simple truth, but also that he had himself fired
the fatal shot in self-defense, or at least under
such circumstances of danger that would have
led any jury to acquit him.
He detailed how he had fired first from a small
single-barreled pistol in the air without any pur
pose except to give his challenger a scare, and then
ran down the alley ; upon being closely pursued
by the deceased with sabre drawn and ready to
strike he was compelled to pull out a revolver
and fire several shots toward his pursuer, who
was rapidly gaining on him, to keep him back,
and that when he had but one shot left he stum
bled over a large stone and fell on his knees, and
at this moment the deceased struck at him with
the sabre, cutting him slightly in the cheek, and
being thus pressed, he aimed and fired the last
shot, which subsequently proved fatal. He fur
ther told how, upon recovering his feet, he ran,
waded through the stream, and, finding that he
had lost his hat when he fell, retraced his steps,
recrossed the stream, found the hat, and then
went to a hotel, where he was seen by several
witnesses to dry his wet clothing. His manner,
his bearing, and his clothing itself convinced his
hearers that he was telling the truth.
But, so that nothing might be wanting if any
doubt remained in the minds of the judge or jury,
witnesses of undoubted veracity were called, who
corroborated him as to the condition of his cloth
ing and the cut on his cheek within fifteen min
utes after the occurrence. Besides, it was shown
that, although the man who had fired had waded
through the stream, Short's clothing was perfectly
It is unnecessary to say that Short was promptly
acquitted, and warmly congratulated on one of
the narrowest escapes ever made by any man in
a court-room. Nothing could have saved him
had the court refused to direct the acquittal of
Ryan and allow him to testify.
The deceased corporal, the soldier, and Mary
Brown were mistaken. That was all there was
So much for the occasional unsafeness of the
direct testimony of honest eye-witnesses.
And so much, also, for giving the accused an
opportunity to be heard on the witness stand,
the denial of which by the law is one of the relics
of barbarism which still disgrace it3 administra
tion in some States at this late day. London
THE ATHEIST AND THE FLOWER,
When Napoleon Bonaparte was Emperor of
France, he put a man by the name of Charney into
prison. He thought Charney was an enemy of
his government, and for that reason deprived
him of his liberty. Charney was a learned and
profound man, and as he walked to and fro in
the small yard into which his prison opened, he
looked up to the heavens, the work of God's
fingers, and to the moon and stars which he
ordained, and exclaimed, "All things come by
chance ! " One day while pacing his yard he saw
a tiny plant just breaking from the ground near
the wall. The sight of it caused a pleasant diversion
of his thoughts. No other green thing was within
his enclosure. He watched its growth every day.
"How came it here?" was the natural inquiry
As it grew, other queries were suggested. " How
came these delicate little vein3 in its leaves?
What made its proportions so perfect in every
part, each new branch taking its exact place on
the parent stock, neither too near another, nor
too much on one side?" In his loneliness, the
plant became the prisoner's teacher and his val
ued friend. When the flower began to unfold, he
was filled with delight. It was white, purple,
and rose-colored, with a fine, silvery fringe.
Charney made a frame to support it, and did
what his circumstances allowed to shelter it from
the pelting rains and violent winds.
"All things come by chance," had been written
by him upon the wall, just above where the
flower grew. Its gentle reproof, as it whispered :
"There is one who made me so wonderfully
beautiful, and He it is who keeps me alive,'7
shamed the proud man's unbelief. He brushed
the lying words from the wall, while his heart
felt that "He who made all things is God." But
God had a further blessing for the erring man
through the humble flower. There was an Italian
prisoner in the same yard, whose little daughter
was permitted to visit him. The girl was much
pleased with Charney's love for his flower. She
related what she saw to the wife of the jailor.
The story of the prisoner and his flower passed
from one to another until it reached the ears of
the amiable Empress Josephine. The Empress
said: "The man who so devotedly loves and
tends a flower cannot be a bad man." So she
persuaded the Emperor to set him at liberty.
Charney carried his flower home; and carefully
tended it in his own greenhouse. It had taught
him to believe in a God, and delivered him from
- ... -
CURIOSITIES OF REPORTING.
Ignorance and carelessness on the part of re
porters have led to some very amusing blunders.
"Fratricide at Haddington " was the title given
some time ago in an Edinburgh paper to the
case of a man who was tried for the murder of
his father. An American reporter once trans
formed the quotation "Amicus Plato, amicus
Socrates, sed major Veritas," into: "I may cus
Plato, I may cus Socrates, said Major Veritas."
The next morning's feelings of the orator to
whose words this extraordinary rendering was
given may be more easily imagined than de
scribed. It was a Welsh reporter who headed a para
graph "Suicide of two Persons Statement of
the One that Survived." This seems more like
a product of the sister isle, and if the writer was
not of Hibernian birth or extraction, he might
at all events claim affinity in genius. The erro
neous use of the word " other " has occasioned
many a curious blunder. A Scotch paper recently
announced that "a man named Alexander
Buchanan, and two other women," were charged
A DEAF SOLDIER.
A soldier, wishing to get his discharge, sham
med deafness so successfully, that all the medical
men who examined his case were deceived by
him. No noise, however sudden or unexpected,
had any power to disturb his equanimity, and he
had acquired such perfect control over his nerves
that a pistol fired over his head when he was
asleep did not apparently awake him. Grave
suspicions as to the genuineness of his malady
were entertained, notwithstanding. Like most
malingerers, he was a little too clever and complete.
Still it seemed impossible to catch him. tripping.
A final examination was made: the doctors ex
pressed themselves satisfied; and the soldier was
presented with his certificate of discharge. Out
side the door he met a comrade, who whispered :
"Have you got it?" with an appearence of eager
interest. "Yes; here it is !" was the unguarded
reply. But the certificate, though filled in, was not
signed, and the malingerer was a sold man.