Rensselaer Republican, Volume 14, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 December 1881 — The Wages of Sin. [ARTICLE]

The Wages of Sin.

Little Rock (Ark) Gazette, November 9. A very sad death occurred in the Penitentiary yesterday. All deaths are sad, bUt of all deaths tbfc death of a broken he&rt ii the saddest. t\ E. gulliVan, alias William Delaney, a young man of 23 years, one of the train robbers recently sentenced to 70 years in the Arkansas Penitentiary, was the victim of a broken heart. Several days ago he became gloomy, aDd going to Dr. Lenow, prison physician, complained of being sick, upon examination the physician dlsfcovered that the map wds not suffering from aqV perceptible disease, but that his pulse was 140. He was ordered to the hospital,where every possible care was given him. He revived after a time, but every one could see despair written on his countenance. He entered the prison cheerfully, and lightly spoke of the long term of his sentence, but after a while a letter C ime. When he read the lines his spirit sauk. Tears told of a misery that ink could not express. He want again to his bed. "The shadows are gathering fast and night is oppressing me with its darkness,” he said yesterday to some one standing near. “One crime, and then death in a Penitentiary. My old father, Who baS pteaclied the Gospel for y’ears, who iiiany and riiany a time blasped his hduds above tny head aud prayed, has beqp humbleddu his old age. Aud pty mother! if I could oniy hear her voioe. But walls and .laws are between qs. I am as one dead. She could come to me, but I canuot go to her.” His thoughts wandered. At times he seemed to be at churcb,listening to his father preach; and then he seemed to be playing with his sisters. He smiled and laughed softly. “Ah!” he would say. “your brother never forgets you t ”eUtldenly his face grew dark, and, waving his hand wildly t he began to mutter broken sentences, “Seizing the.bridle rein he sprang upon his antagonist’s horse and dashed away.” “He’s reading one ot these wild books that we used to steal away and devour,” said one of the dying man’s companions in crime. “Halt! he exclaimed, drawing a revolver and leveling it at the head cl young Horace,” continued the sufferer. “Slowly and sadly they left the church and walked along the well-worn path to the grave of Lawrence. Standing near the stone placed there by the Indian, Casper and his fair companion—and he muttered incoherently, the sentence dying away with 8 deep gronn. Suddenly he raised himself, looking intently toward the door, and slow ly eauk back, dead.