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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, February 17, 1912, Image 16

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1912-02-17/ed-1/seq-16/

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lr up. He fixed his blue eyes on the
high ceiling; he repeated the
words which the priest mur
mured. "Oh, Christ! Have mercy on
my spul!" His words rang out,
clear as a bell. "Holy Mary, in
tercede for me ! Pray for me !
Bring me to everlasting life!"
The deputies were tying the
straps about his arms and legs.
Another of them tied the white
shroud about the boy's neck.
"Savior, save nie! Forgive me
my sins!"
"Listen to that young fellow
pray," said a reporter.
"Christ, I love thee!" said the
boy. In the white covering he
looked like a choir boy.
"Grant me to live with Thee.
Forgive me my sins."
While he said these words, still
looking upward, William Davies,
the jailer, put the noose over his
head and tightened the knot un
der the boy's ear.
Another deputy was doing the
same to Sommerling.
"Forgive me my sins ! Forgive
me my sins !" rang out the voice
of the boy. His voice was grow
ing louder; there was a tone of
wildness in it.
"Holy Mary !"-"Crash." it was
r an awful thing to hear in the
, same moment those words from
- the mouth of that boy .and that
sound. But they came together.
Again the feet of 14 doctors scuf
v fled over the cement floor to the
"white, swaying, twitching bags.
nr There was another intermis
sion. "Now, if this nigger'U only
confess before he's hung, you fel
lews'il get a fine top-'pflf for your
day's story," said d deputy sheriff
to the reporters.
"We've got a good early start
in the day's work," said a re
porter. "Are you going out for
lunch? Why don't you sheriffs go
out now and then come back for
the afternoon's work? You can
finish a lot of them at this rate."
"Gee," said a young doctor,
coming up to Jailer Davies, "I
thought you'd left your handcuffs
on that young fellow. I lifted up
his hand and I didn't see that
another doctor was holding it by
the elbow. I thought his hands
were locked together, because I
couldn't move his arm."
"They don't suffer," another
doctor was telling the reporters.
"But isn't there some easier
way to kill a man ?" asked a re
porter. "I -should say so," said the
doctor, "They could put, a tiny
drop. of hydro cyanic acid in his
soup some day and in an instant
he would be stone dead, without a
twitch or a pain. Or they could
kin a man with morphineand he
would die pleasantly, in beautiful
dreams. But this hanging! It's
the crudest thing in civilization."
"I saw a doctor put young
Schultz's neck back into place in
fine shape," said a deputy "just
grabbed his head, gave it a twist
and it snapped right back where
it belonged."
I saw plenty of smiles during
the two hours and 10 minutes. I
heard plenty of attempted jokes
and commonplaces, among the 42

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