Democratic Sentinel, Volume 19, Number 47, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 November 1895 — Page 8 Advertisements Column 1 [ADVERTISEMENT]
ALWAYS fiivpsiu TWfMBggZ ITS PATRONS leaswwaitfcof *"*AiP 5 *Srt Xoe*t br * I?-I M •JBruStuickly "t^|Et?*->' Miaaapoiis Jjj Ginoinnati* * LouisvilleL^^wFrT CULLMAN SLEEPING CARS ELEGANT PARLOR CARS ILLTRAINS RUN THROUGH SOLID Tickets So/d and Baggage Checked to Destination. |W*Oet Maps and Time Tabls* if you waq£ to be Blots fully Inf ora *d—all Ticket Agents at Coupe* ■SatinTT have them—or address
J asper Couuty Maps for Sale at Long's. Austin, HoHiDgsworth & Co. are now the proprietors of the only complete set of Abstract Books Jasper couuty, anil are prepared to furnish abstracts of Title on short notice and reasonable terms. JohL Kimble, of near Parr, will un .ergo another operation for cancer. commissioners’ Court, Decern ber T. rm, wdi convene next Mon day. The Monon’s net earnin?s for Octobt »• were 84,000 in excess of same month last year. N. S. Bates says that his local sales of turkevs this year far exceeded those of auy year s uce he has been in the pouitrv bussueis.
HE WAS REPRIEVED. Bnt Through an Officer’s Bungling Ho Died Jnst the Same. The custom in the English navy, up bo the beginning of the present century, of keeping back from men reprieved, after sentence of .death, all knowledge pf such reprieve until the last moment, when all the formalities attending the execution of the sentence, except the dread one that came last of all, had been duly observed, is answerable for several terrible mishaps involving tragic consequences. One dreadful affair of the kind occurred in 1766. A marine had been sentenced to death for desertion, and the day fixed for his execution had arrived. The man received the sacrament, and was duly conducted to the place fixed for his execution, under escort of an officer's guard, with all the routine formalities usual on such dread occasions—his coffin immediately preceding him, and the band playing the “Dead March.” The preliminaries over, he was placed in a position to receive the fatal volley. His eyes were bound. The firing party stepped forward and took post within six paces. “Make ready.” Click, click, click went the flint locks. “Present.” Up went the muskets, all leveled in a row at the prisoner’s breast. Then there was a pause as the officer in command, holding in his hand, rolled up, the fatal handkerchief, the dropping of which had been arranged as the signal to “fire,” turned away. Every one looked on, wondering at the delay while the officer was apparently trying to get at something in his tunic pocket. He grasped it and pulled out a paper, but in his eagerness dropped the handkerchief. Instantly there was a line of spurting flame points—a rattle and an echoing crash—as the nine reports rang out in unison! The culprit pitched forward heavily on his face with a dull thud, and lay stretched out as dead as a stone. It was too late when, almost throwing himself across the line of fire, the officer ejaculated in tones of horror, “My God, stop! Here’s his reprieve!”
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