Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 8, Number 36, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 2 March 1878 — Page 1

Vol. 8.---No:~ 36. :,1

"W.'

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

SECOND EDITION

Town-Talk.

DON'T FRET.

T. T. does (ret, and fume, anil scold, probably ft* much as people In general. That is just tb9 reason why he ia entitled to give advice to others. He baa tried it and knows that it don't pay. Your smooth-tempered, ever-go-easy sort of peoplo are not qualified to give advice on this point.

Any number of temperance people, who never tasted liquor, and couldn't drink it if they wanted to, take great credit to themselves, and are full of advice to other-. But they do not know what they are talking about. Many a poor fellow, just over a drunk, and who will be drunk again as soon as he has a temptation, can talk with ten times the force on this subject. He knows how it Is himself.

So T. T. knows all about this mutter of fretting and scolding. It does make the man himself feel mighty mean. Attempt tf justi'y himself as he will, he Is conscious tlint it would have been more manly and noble to have kept cool, and spoken quietly. What if the man did deserve good sound-cursing? What if the innn {lid deserve to be told just what von thought of him T. T. has seen lots of ragged, dirty urchins who deserved a sound flogging, but he docsu't propose to pick every such one up and spank him. lie, tbt boy, needs It, but T. T. cannot afford to tmsla with these street Arahs, and to soil bis clothes and spoil his temper, by turning public spanker for the pullic good. I

It is not a question as to what is da served, but, under the circumstances, what is b®!t. No doubt people deserve to be fretted at, and scolded, and cursed, and all that sort of thing. But no decent msn or woanan aflord to give tbem their deserts. Besides, it does not do auy good. T. T. is as cer tain as it la possible in this uncertain world to be of anything, tbat no pblld, man, or woman, was ever made better by being scolded. It makes people ma 1, and once make a human being mad and that is the end of all good to be done bin).

T. T. wasn't one of those good children who die early, and his father, a good man, was not free from faults of temper. T. T. has stood before him while he fretted, and scolded, and threatened, declaring, and truthfally too, that said youthful T. T. deserved to be flogged within an incfi of bis life, aud that he was half a rnljid to give him bis desert*. The parental temper quickly kindled a similar flame In the eon, aud T. T. Invariably went off mad. He knew he had done wreng. that he deserved every word of abuse which the father had given, bnt ho didn't care. But T. T. rtwoDects well one evening, when all $ the rest bad gone to bed, and be land the o!4 gonHuman sat by the fire-place aloue, aod, Instead of scowling, the ood old man began gently and in a low tone to talk of one of T. T.'s most serious faults. He told him how disappointed he had been at seeing this fhult gaining on him,' and a certain tremor in his voice and moisture about the eyes betfayed the real feeling In the old man's heart. T. T.'s eyes wore quickly filled also, and he fell so mean that he would have been devoutly thankful lor an earthquake, or anything else With good swallowing power*, to take him in. When be went to bed be kissed the old geutleuian with more tenderness and affection than ever before in his life, and honors his memory now tbat be is dead, and there was no oocaslon to repeat the talk on thai subject. It eared 1. T. of that fault. Sooldlng couldn't have done it. Fretting oouldn't bare done it

It dont pay to scold children, or anybody else. If the servant is careless, or wasteful* or untruthful, 11 does not mend the matter to scold. If mild means will not succeed, rough ones will not, and the beet way Is to dismiss the one with whom the mild means harp failed, and the dismissal even should be wtthoiil sex ling. It don't pay to tell anybody what you think of them, just for the sakeof doi^ It. It don't pay to

give people their deserts. If we all got our deserts, we wouldn't be the most prosperous and happy people Imaginable. Let people off with less than their deserts, and see if they cannot be induced to deserve better things.

Of all the inefficient people in the world, a thorogbbred scold accomplishes the least, has less to show for bis labor than any man living. There is old Grumbler, to whom T. T. has alluded before. He bas for forty years, to T.T.'s certain knowledge, been trying to scold Terre Haute into better ways. And now the more he scolds, the more people will not leave off what be scolds tbem about. Every good cause here which has prospered, has done so in spite of his scolding. He has been a burden to every enterprise, political, moral, or religious, with which he has been identified. He means well. He generally is cn the right side. But he is an old scold, and so much lead toevery cause he attempts to help." -A 4/

It don't pay to scold. It don't pay in the family, with husband or wife, witb children or servants. It don't pay in business, however mean a man may be. It don't pay in politics. It don't pay in law. It don't pay in morals. It don't pay in religion. It don't pay anywhere. Therefore, T. T. will join all the readers of The Mall in putting on the blue ribbon, and solemnly promise never to scold anymore when bo can possibly

"•if

Husks and Nubbins.

No. 203.

$.1

.• ALL IS VANITY.

It takes no divine revelation to teach us tbat this life is but un introduction, a fragment. In youth we contemplate great things and lay out a plan of life tbat shall stretch through many years. Before our fervent imaginations the futur9 expands into a space practically Illimitable and we consider how it shall be filled with great deeds and noble actions. Twenty—thirty—forty years— what shall we not be able to accomplish in all that time 1 And so we plan and build, but, alas! our bouses ard only castles built in the air. It is a world of mutation. The years flee away fauter than we can follow them and bow often every cnerisbed hope and plan are swept away and we find ourselves floating midst an utter wreck. Into our plans love and friendships extend but those we loved are snatched away leaving us wounded and desolate. How often does it happen tbat a light and careless parting becomes.a parting forever—so far as this world is concerned. Husband and wife, brother and sister, parent and child, part some day, as thoy have part-, ed each day lor years before, and never meet again. When such calamities over take us they come like lightning strokes from a cloudless sky and for a time utterly overwhelm us. It seems as if life bad ceased to have any interest for us and could never interest us again. These strokes leave wounds upon our beart.« which may beal overindeedj but will carry the scars to the grave.

Let any man or woman of thirty take a survey of what ten years have wrought* How terrible the changes in even that short space! Ihe road along which we have come is strewn with the gravea of friends and companions. How many have fallen 1 And not the weak aud delicate always by any means. Many of tbem were strouger4 more hopeful, more promising than wo. But cut down by disease or accident in the midst of health aud hope and activity. Experiences such as there leave ui far less sarguine of life than we ouce wore. We come to have a greater respect for life insurance and provisions of a kindred nature. Time was when wo. foolishly fancied that we bed a destiny to work out and that \ve held an indefeasable title in life Until It was accomplished. But after we bave sees others, who had as good or better right to think the same thing, drownod, burned, mangled and' cut down by disease, eur faith in destiny sensibly diminishes.

Not only in this regard but in many others we find life to be unsatisfactory. A sad sense of limitation comes upon us by and by. We find we cannot do everything nor even many things. The channel of our thoughts narrows and narrows until its banks get very close together. We find that if we confine ourselves to one thing we can perhaps learn to do that pretty well. This limitation we are compelled to suffer tor, the sake of ourselves and out- famllte*/f

The limitation of time is the worst of all. The older we grow the shorter the years grow. They spin away like a tale tbat is told. It takes so much time to de things. So many hoars are lost, so many are talked away, so many go we don't know how tar where. We cant help it either. We try in vain. Before we are aware of it we find ourselves on the top of Ufa's hill beginning to go down the other side. Then we realise more keenly than ever how short and transitory a thing Ills is.

These feelings affsct every one some perhaps more and others less,. but all suffer from them. I suppose it is safe to assart that life Is not a rounded, complete aud satisfactory thing to anyone,

no matter what his success has been. He feels tbat it lacks a great deal of being so. Doubtless it was intended by nature tbat it should be thus. We are taught to look for a better country, one that shall endure. This life is a kind of training school. Enjoyment is not the main thing but only an Incident. The main thing is to do one's whole duty by himself and others to work honestly, snd faithfully at whatever his task may be and be content with the result in a word, to "deal justly, walk humbly and love mercy." There is a great deal of Batisfactlou in doing one's duty. It is when we are conscious of not having done the best we could in a given case that we feel wretched and unhappy. When we take life for what it is and no more, and then make the very best we can of it, we are making the wisest pos sible use of this world.

DEVELOPMENT OF MUSICAL TASTE. n* WltAlP f-J BEING DONE IN TEttRlS'

HAUTE.

Within the last few years there bas been a very marked progress in music in this country. The American people have taken immense strides fn this field of art, within a comparatively brief period, and bave demonstrated tbat they have capabilities as musical artists, which places them in this regard, on an equality with the most musical of the older countries.

It is a fact tbat to-day European opera houses are largely occupied by American singers, and of the chosen few who have attpinfd to popular favoritism, a fair percentage are Americans. The. subtle power of a refining and elevating influence bas been going on around us, educating the ear and heart till it is only the- best music, that finds the readiest appreciation. The most common amateur concert usually produces something ol a really high order. Cheap and trashy musical entertainments fail to find paying patronage. Music is being recognized by the masses in its higher sphere. It permeates our homes and daily life, and is one of the most exquisite pleasures of existence.

The agencies which have produced such wonderful progress are mainly three: musical instruction in public schools, the universal introduction of the piano and reed organ, and musical organizations and societies for mutual improvement. The two first are elementary. They bave propared the way. But to the last is due the credit of cultivating the finer taste for a higher order of music, and a broader musical knowledge.

In every city, and nearly every village have sprung up choral societies where classical music is the study and where the rehearsal of the glorious inspirations of Handel and Hayden, Beethoven and Mendelssohn are shaping the character of public taste and sentiment. ..

In our own city we are favored with an organization of this kind. "The Oratorio Society" was organized last summer, and ndw numbers between seventy-five and eighty active snd nearly as many honorary members. It is under the direction of Prof. Anton Shide, and has been engaged ia the study of one of Mendelssohn's greatest and most difficult musical productions.

The Sacred Cantata of The Hymn of Praise." The Society will present this Cantata to the publio next Friday evening, at the Opera House, together with other choioe selections-of classical music from the old masters, supported by a large orchestra of over twenty instru* dieuts.

The "Cantata of The Hymn ot Praise," has never been performed in America except in Boston, and the Oratorio

SO

ciety of Terre Haute feel a just pride in being the first Amateur Society in this oountry to attempt it. Not withstanding the difficult undertaking they feel confident that after the patient labor and drill of months they shall be able to render it in a manner entirely satisfactory to those who appreciate a really high order of music, and they hope also by this and further efforts of alike character, to be Instrumental in cultivating higher standard of mhslcal taste and sentiment in our city.

From various women correspondents in Washington we'get the following Information: Justice Harlan's wife ia very tall, stately and handsome. Secretary MoCrary's wife Is little and girlish, with a particularly happy expression of face. Secretary Sherman's wife is tall, smiling, and has very hdavy brown hair. Senator Matthew's wife hi white-haired and cheery. Senator Hamlin's wife is gifted with rare Intelligence. Senator Angus Cameron's wife fa tall, Slender and pretty. Senator Dorsey's wife is a beautiful aud amiable brunette. The wife of the Japanese Minister fa gentle and as

Thirty-odd years ago a child was born in a Welsh poor house. Recently the charity-boy, sinos the* hero of many strange adventures and vicissitudes, dined with the Prince of Wales, and received an ovation Arom the Royal Geographical Society. Was there ever any wilder romance than the life of Stanley

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Vr

TERRE HAUTE, IND., SATURDAY EVENING, MARCH 2, 1878: Price Five Cents

A HUMAN DEVIL

Tlie Bandit of the Wabash.

SENTENCED^FOR LIFE.

THE ENTRANCE OF THE BRUTE IN TO THE JOLIET PENITENTIARY. 4

AN EXHIBITION OP HOPELESS DEPRAVITY.

At Qaleaburg on Saturday morning last, the triple murderer Rande, who claims to be the "Bandit of the Wabash," was sentenced to imprisonment for life, the jury having found him guilty of murder, and fixing the penalty as above. The correspondent of the Chicago Inter Ocean tells of the subsequent proceedings and of the actions of this human devil.

At the conclusion of the reading of the verdict the court asKed Rande if be had anything to say before sentence should be passeJ, to which he said, "I do not know, until I consult with my counsel," and after talking a few moments with Mr. Price, be spoke nearly as follows: "I desire to say that there were twelve of the witnesses tbat perjured themselves, and should be sent to hell—especially Sutton—and if the court does not bave hitn punished, he will not do his duty."

Rande talked some little time in this manner, after which Judge Smith proceeded to sentence him as follows: "The sentence of the Court is that you be taken Jrom here to the county jail, from whence you came, and from there without delay, by the Sheriff of this countj, to the States prison ait Joliet, there to be confined at bard labor during your natural life, the first twenty-four houre in solitary confinemeut."

The baud cuffs were then put upon Rande, and be was taken back to jail. As he went out Le kept up a running talk, cursinsr almost everybody snd everything but it was observed tbat be weakened some as he came down stairs.

Rande was taken from the court house tc the jail, and immediately from there to the cars, and U-ft for Joliet by the 8:50 train, whitth, however, was a little late, lie was in charge of Sheriff Berrgren and Marshal F. E. Fowler. A large number of citizsns wore at the depot to see the noted "Bandit of the Wabash" take his final leave of the city, but there were no signs of violence toward the prisoner.

Just before Rande left the depot be said before he died he would eat State's Attorney Tunnicliff. Turning to a representative of a Chicago newspaper he said "Before a great while will put a bullet through your d-^d heart."

AT THE DEPOT VVjV'T 1.

were only the passengers on the train (which had just pulled in), the Judge, two or three lawyers auu a dozsn or twenty baggagemen and hoys. Rande looked about him apprehensively at first, but, speedily perceiving that there was no barm for him in that gathering, resumed his bragging air, ana grinned as he was ru&bed—and half lifted—into the smokhitc car. He was taken into the forward oompartment, only the Sheriff, the Marshal, and deputies Blood snd i-lart bearing 6iui company tb* policeman remaining on tbe outside on the platform. Inside tbe car, and safe,

XfiK OBSCENE Doo BROKE! OUT in in jocular blasphemy of tbe little crowd that speedily gathered outside the window. 00011 by, Rande," said, a gaping, grinning boy. "Good by,*' said he. "Be a good boy." "You've got a good long one this time," said another.

O, I won't stay there long," he retort ed. "If they dont treat me better'n they did In Michigan City. I'll bteak some of their G—d d—d necks." "Why don't they take him out and bang bim, anyway," said another. "G—d d—u you, you wouldn't do it. If I had a pistol here I'd clean out tbe whole crowd of you*' (laughing all the while). 'I'd break somebody's leg, and some s— of a b— would have his femoral artery cut."

Aw-naw haw-haw 1" roared the crowd. "Hallo!. 'There'a Jim Tunnlclllf," said be, as

THE STATE'S ATTORNEY

came up to tbe side of the car. "Come here, Tunnicliff, I've got something to sav to you."

The State's Attorney looked up at him. "I believe, by Q—d, he's sfiaid of me. I won't hurt yqu. Come here."

Tunnicliff walked away, witb a "good bv,"*and Rande fired a volley of lingoal filth alter him, and returned to

CHAFFING THE CROWD.

5

A reporter who accompanied tbe party thus describes the incidents of the trip: At 9:10, just twenty-five minutes after court convened, and twenty minutes after the sentence, tbe train pulled out, the Sheriff and Marshal breathed a Sigh of relief, and a yell, partly of good nature ana partly of derision, went out from the throats of the assembled spectators.

As soon as the train was under way Rande set up his diabolical chatter. People began to crowd into the compartment, and he began to blow.

Be speedily informed tbem who he was, and, secure in tbe presence of the officers, began to blow and toot for the sale of his pictures. An innocent looking old farmer took one of tbem and examined it. "It looks like me," be said, taking his greasy old cap off to show his ugly bead. "Them's 50 cents tbe little ones is a quarter."

Tbe old man bought one. The news had been telegraphed along, and a crowd was at the next stationmostly of boys and people employed about the station or In that neighborhood. They ran op and down looking for him. A man cried out "There he isT' and in a twinkling they were Jamming each other against the side of the car, and some of them came pouring io. "How do you know me be shouted to tbe man who had pointed bim out. "I never aaw you before

T"

tbe

"I've seen your picture," said man. "Handsome, ain't I?" "No,"

This prompt and veracious answer got a laugh. "Weil, I'll .ft

MEET ALL YOU FELLERS IN HELL," said be, and then, turning his sttention to tbe gtping gawks who bad crowded in, began again to sell bis pictures. As tbe train started again he settled back and grinned hideously. "I'm a great man," said he. "See how they rush to see me I" "It's not much to be proud of," remarked a passenger. "You lie!" It's enough to make any man proud," be retorted.

Then he tried to raise the window. "Let tbat window alone," said the Sheriff. "I want some air." "Let it alone." il "It ain't tbe first time I've raised a window," said be satirically, and desisted.

Tbe train boy coming along in a little while with an armful of books, he bought one, bv Allan Pinkerton. I want to read that," said he, "and see what the son of a b— has got to say. I'd like to meet him once that's all I want, G-d-him."

Then he began to TRADE HIS PICTURES and a wretchedly written "history" of bis life and crimes, of which he had a few copies, for oranges and other intestine destroyers.

These scenes were repeated at every stopping place along the line to Wyanet. He never enjoyed bimself better in all his dirty liie. At Wataga he looked long and earnestly out of the windows on either side of the country. It was to this p'ace be went after

THAT DREADFUL SUNDAY

at Gilson. He followed tbe traok up and arrived there on Monday morning. Doubtless he remembered this now.

At Wyanet, tbe Chicago, Rock Island and Pacific and Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Roads cross. It was designed to take tbe first named to Joliet, as being the most direct, trains connecting there The crossing is a little way out of town. A lonesome station house is built there, and into this be was taken. Seated in tbe station, be reopened his valves, and vapored about what he would ifo if his limbs were free. Sheriff Berggren, who is a mild man, let him talk but the Marshal shut hitn up by telling him tbat he could do absolutely uotbing: that

I HE WAS A BRAGOART. The b€ast is easily cowed. He remained silent a few moments. Tben in aloud voice and with plenty of oaths he reviewed tbe trial, damning tbe witnesses and the prosecutors, and threatening to visit tremendous vengeance upon th«rn "when he got out."

If be kills half the people he has promised to kill, this Stste and Indiana, not to mention St. Louis, will be depopulated.

1

They sauntered out of doors for a mbment once, when Rande suddenly stooped and picked up

5

1

A BIT OF IRON.

"What's that?" dsked tbe Sheriff. "I uon't know. Apiece of iron," said he.

The Sheriff mildly reached for It and took it from him. "O. let me keep it," be pleaded. t, "What for?" asked Berggren. "It'll make me a knife when I get there," said he. "So it might," replied the Sheriff, aa he tossed it across tbe track, regardless of Randa's entreaty, "don't ao that." "Hell!" said he. "Do you suppose I ain't goin« to have all tbe knives 1 want when I get there?!' he asked, "and pistols too "I guess not," said Berggren. "Sae if I don't," said he.

1

When tbe dragging hour bad gone and the train was thundering up to tbe building, Rande suddenly observed side door. "Lemme go in there," said he, as he shuffled toward it. He opened the door and feund inside ao elevator for baggage, n*"# -v niMs-i iMi-s.'s

THAT'S A OOOD DROP,"

said be. "That's wbat I'd like. I've always said, if I'd got to bang, I waut a piece of metal or something heavy to jerk me up quick, So as to break my neck and have it all over."

A lady, with a little child, Whom bis murderous talk bad driven Lfffighted out ef the waiting room, started in terror at this, and made haste to get into a rear car, He was taken into the smoking car.

Word had gone op tbe line that be was dii the train, and'^*."7 A INVITE AT EACH STATION ST was tbe consequence. He gloried Id it. He spread his pictures on tbe seat tbat was Kiven bim, aod "went in for business," crying them oot, naming the prices, and working up a sala. He continued this but for a little while, for the inhabitants wanted to bear him talk.

Tbey heard bim. Of all tbe foul mouthed, disgusting brptes tbe Lord ever allowed earth to Ue cumbered by he is the worst. He lipped and swore, promised to meet tbem all in bell, bragged bow be wpuld break the prison officials' necks unless tbey should treat him as be thought he night to be treat-

"Z* 'WW*' OUaSW:T0* JVDOU, ^|, '.V raved about the law, oontempruotisly damned tbe prison, exchanged ribaldry with such idiots as were inclined to that commerce»«d generally demeaned bimself in a manner calculated to excite a desire to stamp upog his boil neck.

Tbewstne disgraceful scene occurred at each stopping place all THE WAY TO joiner.

Tbe pleasant little city was reached a iUtje after 3 o'clock, aod the party immediately got into a carriage that was waiting, and were rafidly conveyed to tbe prison, where Wsrden McCiaugbrey, Mr. Mueller, and two er three ottwr of tbe officials wete in waiting at tbe door to receive them. Rande looked about curiously as he walked up tbe steps, and inspected the group quite as though their respective positions were reversed.

Without delay he was taken to tbe receiving room and formally delivered over to Rseeivirg Officer Murrey, a quiet, colorless Utile gentleman, with a wonderful memory for faces aod names, AS he walked along, Rande

told Warden McClaughrey tbat be intended to write bis history before leaving tbe place. "We bave no place for writing histories here," observed the Warden.

Even at this place, where the officers are In tbe habit of seeing criminals of the worst sort, where their coming is a matter of every day business, and not to be remarked upon,

RANOE'S ARRIVAL

excited a little ripple of interest. They all came in to bave a look at bim. He was made to onload bis person of all tbe traps he had in tbem—a queer collection, which were a box of blacking and a blacking brush, two boxes of figs, a handful of corn, a lot of letters, a dozen or so of photographs (one of a lady among them), two or three pamphlets, bits or lead pencils, a piece of string, and a lot of other truck.

Strip," said Mr. Murrey. Must I take off everything?" be asked. ilVoo

Accordingly" HE STRIPPED STARK NAKED. and a stocky looking animal he was as he stood there looking none too pleasantly at the by-standing officers and assisting convicts. The wound in his leg, received in the pawu shop fight was blotchy and brown, and other marks elsewhere on his carcass showed where misdirected bullets bod at various times entered and criminally failed to kill.

The receiving offloer looked under bis armpits, between his toes, and in his moutb: and tben motioned bim toward a bath tub tbat bad been filled with tepid water, toward which be ran with a sprightly step, and plunged in. A convict supplied bim with soap, and, when be had bathed, took him to the other side of the room and gave him a suit of olotbes to wear temporarily. As he was about this business he observed the group of gentlemen inspecting the trash be had brought with him, and tartly protested that they had no right to do it. Being informed that tbey had he gritted his teeth, and 4^ PUT ON HIS CLOTHESB

From this he was taken to what is known as tbe wash room, and there be was shaved by a colored convict, a barber. He sighed as he got into the chair, and observed that be didn't like to lose bis beard, (which be bad combed "for the last time," he said, on tbe train). It came off, nevertheless, and in fifteen minutes be got up again, horribly changed in appearance. A more fiendish face than his, witb the beard off, no human eye ever rested upon. The lower jaw is heavy set, and the chin protrudes an inch almost beyond the lower lip. Tbe mouth is small, and would be shapely were it not for tbe slightly drooping corners, in each of which a thousand devils linger. The cbeek bones are prominent, and the bulgy forehead acquires bldeousnesa from the absence of the "cowlick" that used to stand up from it. The eyes are sharp and restless, and tbe teeth, which are bad and brokeu, show through the lips demoniacally when he speaks.

CORPORATE HORROR- ktit

that be was witb hair and beard fall grown, without them he is hideous and frightful. NO man ooold look upon that face without a feeling of antipathy.

His regular suit of striped ciwtbing was given him ben be bad been shaved He was particular in selecting it, and especially careful to get a cap tbat •would fit bim. Dressed complete and greatly altered—but not for the better— be approached Mr. Murrey under guidance of the convict who bad helped bim in bis toilet. He had something In his hand which Mr. Murrey took from bim. "It's my beard," said be. The officer

Cut

ut it upon bis desk and said nothing, reached for a measure and took his height. TbiB ascertained, be

INTERROGATE!) HIM

as to bis name, birthplace, habits, and so on, noting the answers on a blank. "Married?" asked tbe officer. "Well," said be, with a nervous laugh "I was married. I believe my wife's got another busband at preseat." "Then at present you are unmarried?"

«5SL«r. 23

"I've got one child and a stepson. You mlgbt say two children." "Wbat are your habits?*'"t "Teetotaler. Never drink, nor smoke, nor chew." ''Doctor!" said Mr. Murrey, aod a bright, cheerful young gentleman stepped forward. Itaude was ordered to bare his left arm for

JH VACCINATION. r-f» •'Ca"n*t you vaccinate thflf Otbe* Arm?" he asked. "Thl* one is lame." "The left arm," stolidly repeated Mr. Morrey.

He set bis jaw and barfed his left arm. The operation was performed in a CV-ink-ling, and tbe guard was about to take him away to "the solitary,M wBeo Mr. Murrey observed something in bis band again. Examination revealed that it was bis beard.* "Give it to me,"said the officer. "Let me keep that, I want to send it away in a tatter," be pleaded. "Well take care of it," replied tbe offloer, and laid it upon the desk again.

Tben, without more ado, the "brilliant and darirg bandit or the Wabash," tbe sneak tblef and cowardly murderer, tbe skolk, the tramp, tbe ex-eonvict of Michigan City, the "pawn shop fiend." Charles A. 8co«, Charles Vao Zandt, Frank Darsnd, and Frank Rande, all rolled into one and labeled No. 1,676, ana looking exceedingly inglorious after all bla blaster and blasphemy, was bundled off to a solitary Ceil. The jury did not agree until dsyiigbt

TH* LAST HAN TO OIVK IN

bras William Overlaader, who wanted To see the hound strung up. They retired on /Thursday afternoon at four o'clock, and were out, therefore, forty boars. The first ballot showed thai six were in favor of "a verdict of murder," the other six being divided op between a variety of sentences and acquittal. Harvey Cashman and Kodeker were tbe worst of tbe lot. Gradually, and with much wrangling, the two parties conceded to each other, and finally tbe six out-and outers won tbe others over by «j agreeing to a life sentence ou pouditlon that the offense be put at murder, and so tbey stood, all but Overlander, who would have nothing sbort of hanging until loog-ocmtiuued pressure broke his backbone, and tnis lame aod impotent conclusion was reached*