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-xjxm.UU» TitlALS. I 8**pEl MITCHELL FOR THE HIS CHILD. ) TERRIBLE MURDER OF iii-el Mitchell, alias "Samuel Wiid, < convicted at the Sessions-house, in January 12, 1805, of the wil- < raer of his own daughter, Sarah Mit- )B Sag# child of nine years old, December 18, a weaver. A kind of jealousy, m 5, 6 mspelctive and malignant passion, ''? Southam,ve instigated him to this inhuman ^rat-ie YeP' da^ b8fore committed it in\. taken place between nim LW+f0' ,aud tlie cllild' 8al]y> went that tl'e lodgings which her mother had v< herself. Having returned to iter s, the next morning she was employed ,m £ (putting silk on a shuttle for tier o weave with), when suddenly he rose 7°?; a razor, and cut the little girl's *r°m one ear to another, the wound lin- 'n length and 2in. in depth. lie en tile house, confessed his guilt to quaintance, and wandered about the a y evening, when he found his way r,,j°Tl"ln^aw s house, and was there ap- if officers wont to his room, ki e1razor "'as found, open and covered Wood within 4ft. or 5ft. of the unfor- M id, and at the time the blood was 7 warm. After this bad taken place, •le coroner had done what his duty re- llxn to do, the prisoner was taken d magistrate and, after a very merci- 'J armng from the magistrate, he olun- p deposed the whole of this horrid trail- h "V Thp appearance of tilie prisoner aj brought to the bar was squalid and P l|8d in the extreme. His hair was grey, in head was covered with an old, mise- & "ightcap. ir nrst witness was William Godby, who w fiat he had been married lo tiie st "ightcap. ir nrst witness was William Godby, who w fiat he had been married lo the I st L°f Prisi0ner for more than eight; w Atte prisoner lived on the 18 th of st °Pl>S 1304> in Wheeler troet, almost sa l0e flower-de-luce-court, Spitalfields, in d< k 5jt?flriS'1 Christ Church. He went on SE 5f iitt e that prisoner lodged in the top room th tile f|8 l0llS0- His wife and his child Sally aE bis e.<f«e*L had lived with him, but lie and Ia 'his /ie been separated the dsy before ou _v,er, and Sully, the deceased, used to hi ployed in winding quills for her father to <i'\v the prisoner at nine o'clock on the m. ln& of this transaction, and did not see ajj 4Jain on that <$ar till, about ten o'clock wj pt, he saw the prisoner at tlie Louse t0,' i, «e (the witness) lodged, and he told Up he should not come into his room. "I nIght, he transaction. The prisoner wans ]ie t half-past twelve on the same day, hir It; he had been to the warehouse wItn his hu he went up to see him, and when he into his room he saw the child, Sally, ]cj] g- "I her blood, but did not notice the in ), tl d h-e was so alarmed. He went down yo. e room under the prisoner's, and tola acc ■Nicholls, who lived in that room He 0i1; Went away He bad some of his mas- arJ property about him, and that he carried He returned a second time, and went em «? room again, and saw Mr. Kennedy, r 'ulcer, there. NichoHs said that she lived 'n the h" In immediately under the prisoner. She wa 't home on the 18th of December, and aij( |la,t the prisoner's wife had been with hat morning. She had a light of wit;- lto light his fire) before eleven o'clock, 0^g leard Sally go upstairs on her return ^pitalfields Charity School, about wa, °'olock. She knew it was the little a_p^ 7 the step, and when she got into her an rttom she heard the quill wheel go ma. prisoner's loom make a noise, which j1} did when he was weaving. Shortly she heard a woman go downstairs, :nid cea w « she heard a man's footstep, but did w-t [ W.iler! see either of them. Prisoner had rHiy called out to her, a little before. e' to know what o'clock i'i vr&s and the former witness, came to her m f Wl ^"ail"hour after she heard the qiiill lS° aa(i a noise of prisoner's loom le Wa,s weaving. She Avent up with |0U] I Wdsaw deceased lying in a pool of freg ,iAh6 She saw nothing of the wound, au duo afraid of going into the room. stai jed out to the landlord, "M u-.er, i'ier i Wi]iWuic!l he came up. 0f Mln Byron deposed that Le wa." the H of the house, but had sinfle removed, e prisoner at that time lodged in the Ma;' On the alarm of murder he went vW s a'id took tlie child by the hand, i lus feet aoross the body, he bn UP hy the waist, when her head and the gash appeared to him. He T ag^ve the alarm that her throat was tr Wd,desired them to go for a surgeon str0. it 'pi¥r father, who, he supposed, was that '«w ? 'IK Tree Public-house just by. He it y >ld round, the room tc. see if he kno- i ou an' instrument, but could not. dans the quill wheel was bloody, in. h of blood wa,s about tlie room, wit* L s °ap was lying in the room blood- c|eec] I6 and she was all over blood, and Sh i stree PK ^Vea Delatour, a journeyman broad- wag saw the prisoner on the 18th, "Vfec the hours of twelve and one, at his dow: tp$i. eIlts, No. 26, Skinner-street, Shore- writ: was at work, a-rd tiie prisoner iP?™ is?' Tl door, upon which he let him °* wui. Prisoner asked him to go down- l&W j.. t!i him, as he had something parti- jH, ^Ofl °°miiinnicate. He refused to leave wag L> crJlnless lie would tell him his busi- 8 Prisoner then said something that- day which never had J K, ^before, and he .should go to New- < him in that violent pertur- E Ci tli he reluobaihtly left his <fj y?- HnXl6 Prisoner having gone downstairs, pa;rif K °Us to know the cause of it, witness stain %y Wen+nd found him at the street door, ship- f^. vj .ahout 50 yards from the witness's of m w gF'soner then, with a countenance j;1?1 f 7» turned round to him. and said, f "*> C>hatTlalri die!" The,witness asked 4b: ^1 happened, or what was the aaiH him. The prisoner said gg V

A MINISTERIAL RUSE. 01x1 vv • iiAi'.couET (aside) jLittie tool! Me little imagines 1 was only playing with him to give the Eads. a chance of agitating against the Lords. But I must dissemble, and keep friends with him a little longer."

AfflADO. v I had not seen Sawyer—"Ca-l," as we called e im—since we parted at Harvard upon com- lencement day, when, full of fervour and the r lass punch of '81, we swore to keep one tl aother in sight. Cal went home and into V lather, and I to a desk in Wall-street. Now, P 1"8 years later, I had almost run over my n d college mate in my nightly mad rush for a ie L. 1 seized him by the arm and bore him ong, postponing apologies until I had him h icked into my little up-town flat and intro- iiced to my wife, who was the dearest woman S I earth to me still, and who I knew could s: imfort and console the tall Californian as I a, mId not, for I had already discovered that h twyer had come east in pursuit of the einige w reibliche. When dinner was over my wife slipped í; vay to see if the bahy was really sleeping, only such "bald-htaded tyrants" can, leav- g us unnecessary and irresponsible men smok- g and reminiscencing in my den of five by j ne. Suddenly a blow on the door startled Sawyer de most out of his chair. lu "His majesty wishes to come in," I said, ej jing and opening the door. aj, "What a magnificent brute!" exclaimed sa iwyer. th "Not 'brute,' if you please, Cal, but my is end. Amado, kindly shake hands with my o-c I friend here, and then compose yourself. an M know you are rather pervasive in a room to this size." III My mastiff gravely did as he was bid, and ih om s.ett,led himself at my side with a thud — at made the things shake on the table. tr< "That's about the only uncivilised thing out him," I said, laughing. "He still re- on embers that his wild ancestors had to make I iir bed in the wilderness, and crushed the m< igle of vine and root under them." N: Sawyer, who was quite as much of an foi imal-lover as myself, knelt down beside the ofl g, fairly running over his points of beauty o'c d of breeding—his coat of delicate fawn, an lvery On flank and shoulder; his breadth wi chest and strength of loin, the velvet black- me !S of his muzzle, the whiteness of his teeth, up > clear brown of his eyes, the pure, rich da ,rlet of his tongue, the black markings of an mouth, and the, sinewy power of his clai aight, wide paws. rai 'Where did you find such a. magnificent dog, do l enviable fellow?" asked Sawver as he Wè. ted himself and re-lighted his cigar. 'Dear old chum! He is getting passive arid tifl ;uinatic. I've owned him now three years, she 1 I've never yet regretted the small fortune kn, Lad to pay to get him from the former owner lns i person wholly unworthy to possess even a. roo ?. But it is for better reasons than points the pedigree that he is beloved next to the boy, kic I even tlie boy can't put his nose out of joint, wa was the dens ex-machina, that gave me my hea e." enl Ah! That sounds interesting," said Sawyer. hill all me the whole story. I've confided to you do\ plight, and you won't find a better 1 ener." enf: had never before felt the least inclination Cri babble of my own affairs, past or present, ) tur if I could soothe and distract the mind of gro 5 old classmate, that was plainly my duty, liel ery well, then, here goes for it. You will reaa l it as mild as a homoeopathic pellet, but it the inretesting enough to me." I said this i 11 well-affected indifference, but was really one er to begin. on Margaret—my wife—ind I had grown up Int atlier in a little town in Southern Ohio. i know the kind perhaps—everything pas- d and religious, all church and no chaperons S here the girls and boys were allowed the I to lost liberty, a liberty, it must be admitted, afS r did not abuse, but used and enjoyed with swii ort of sturdy sanity and self-respeot im- sus] jible in this sophisrticaied, crowded city of Ger rentioiialities. We—she and I-hved side C ade, and held long and confidential conver- rpol

USE FRY'S i PURE CONCENTRATED COCOA. I Health says :Fny's PURE CONCENTRATUS COCOA is remarkable for its absolute purity, itft nutritive value, its pleasant taste, and its pro* perty of ready assimilation." The Medical Annual says There is ncr beverage which can so confidently be re com* mended." 72 PRIZE MEDALS AWARDED TO J. S. FRY AND SONS, BRISTOL, LONDON, AND SYDNEY. "WW M.WHH TO

aa&tor Blankdash (at committee meeting) t you, gentlemen, the country is arouse^ lever before, and the people will visit with ft retribution every man of 'you whom they pect of collusion with the Sugar Trust, itlemen you are drifting on to the rooks- horus of Eager Senators:, Where axe the ml

irecT/iy to mm, "1 have killed my Sally." 1 'he witness a-sked him if the child was dead. 'risoner said, "Yes, I have cut her head alf off." It was a yery severe morning, ] ad' the prisoner was shivering with cold. riaoner desired the witness to go with him -to a public-house that he might warm him- ;lf and have something to drink. They-went t ito the first rmblic-house they came to," which I as the Cock and Magpie, in Worship- f reet, and had a pipe of tobacco. There 11 ere three men and a woman there, entire it rangers to the witness. The prisoner then id to the witness in the tap-room, "Sit s >wn; I have something to ,gay to you." ] ieing the strangers in the room, "the witness t ought it imprudent to speak before them, r id desired the prisoner not to say it there, c -about a quarter of an hour they went f it. The witness asked the prisoner where 11 was going and; what he meant to do with t mself. He said he was going to ■Shadwell see two friendis of his,' who were rope- r' ikers, who would, when he was in prison, .ow him a shilling or two. He then asked f, len the session's would begin, and witness t] Id him. He said he would give himself a to justice and suffer, with this remark— a t would make no odds to him if they cut n in a thousand pieces, for when he went ndreds would go at the same minute." t'e witness told him he should not have led his child. The prisoner looked him the face, and said, "I know that—do Jot h u retort on me now it is done." Witness o( •ompanied him as far nearly as White- al ipel Church, then shook him by the hard, i saw him no more till he met him at the loe. In the publie-house he observed a st all quantity of blood on one of his hands. rhomas Grice, a watchman, of Bethnal- c,_ !en, said that two men came to his witch- ti ise and gave information that the prisoner m s in Hare-street, at his daughter's house, ai i there the witness apprehended him and « ,k him to Bethnal-green Watch-house, and :n went and delivered him up to the h: cer of Spitalfields Waitch-house. As soon :II he saw the prisoner, the prisoner said he K' 3 the man that was guilty of the murder, I resigned himself up. James Kennedy, w officer, of Worship-street, received infor- so tion of the murder about one o'clock in ci. afternoon, and went with Bishop into iJt: prisoner's room, and there sa.w the de- wl &ed lying with her head towards the door, in h no cap on and her throat cut across 111' 3ugh the windpipe, but the blood lying ff. the floor was warm. On the blood of quill-wheel there was a quantity of blood, a track of blood from the wheel to where a. body lay. Near the quill-wheel there on a low stool, and at the side of it he be ad a razor open. It was covered with da h blood at that time. (This was pro- hu ed in court, and a cap of the deceased, ha ned with blood, which had fallen from head1.) He, seeing there was no prospect restoring life, with the assistance of g.r,: Mp, put the people out of the room. for Hit twelve at night they received infor- us, ion that prisoner was at Spitalfields toe bch-house. Armstrong and he went there riel satisfy themselves, and .saw the prisoner apE ng by the watch-house fire. He turned ?th head found, and saw the witness. ?° said, Kennedy, I have given you much ible to-day in searching after me." Arm- ng said to him, "What do you mean by ? Is your name Mitchell?" He: confessed ^r-1 fag. Armstrong again asked him did he tbe w he was charged with murdering his own ahter, and said he found a cap and a razor ™°- is room. The prisoner then answered that °* i that razor he. had often shaved himself, anc with that razor he committed the horrid tak l end r. Joseph Hosier, the magistrate of Worship- it Police Office, stated that the prisoner »16r. brought before him to be examined on Inesday, the 1'lth of December. He took j n the whole confession of the prisoner m hav ing, telling him the consequences in every "7 t of view and the use that would be made f. b after he had signed it. He repeated it glvl to him several times, said that it was true, UPC signed it in the magistrate's presence. The an mer's examination, being now read in court, unl as follows :— to "Public OlSoe, Worship-street. ^he voluntary confession of Samuel lr-ai shell, weaver, for the wilful murder of his dos l, aged nine years, taken by Joseph Moser, of lire, December 19, 1804. pre Samuel Wild Mitchell, weaver, late of the pes sh of Christ Church, Middlesex, now sue iing at the bar of the Public Office, Wor- pes ,street, being fully apprised of the nature bee .y situation by the magistrate, and through tun made perfectly sensible of the nature of cati acknowledgment, do make this free and I a aliased confession, which is taken by my sncl desire:—That I had a daughter, named led and my wife had a daughter, named mci tbefch, who at one time did live with me, ticu but whom I afterwards took to my apartment, where I instructed her in the art of wearing, md we lived together. This said daughter of my wife's caused some uneasiness, as I thought; ind I thought my wife was more indulgent to 'wr faults and favoured her more tha,n she 1 mgM, which was the reason, of our separation m the 17th of December last. My wife also ook with her Sarah 1] whom I loved vith most ardent affection, which vexed me a. E creat deal, as I saw there would be a continual lispute. I could not bear the little girl coming < 0 see me, as coming on a. visit. I resolved that I a leather my wife nor me should possess her. I K( eized the moment of the mother going away. The < liild was sitting by the fire winding quills. took the razor from the drawer. My aflec- ( ion made me almost la.y it down again, but my ■esolution overcame that. I turned round and t rut her throat. I was too resolute to make a, ] aint attempt. The child was dead in a t aoment. She neither niade, noise nor regis- j ance. When I had done the deed, the child « ell. As I went out, I saw 'her blood—then i Ii an downstairs. After this act was done to s ly child, Sarah Mitchell, II went to a man, T amed Bell, where I had lived, and left word v or him to run and secure my master's work; s lien I went to Mr. Dellafour, and my friends t1 t Yfapping. This acknowledgment is free nd made by my own desire. (Signed) "SAMUEL WILD MITCHELL. "JOSEPH MOSEB." "December 19, 1804." 11 m The prisoner, having been now called on for el is defence, the wretched man addressed the aj )urt and jury, nearly as follows, in a. manner ]e bove his rank or appearance; fr "My Lord, and Gentlemen of the Jury,—I and in this place to-day an awful spectacle of 311 .lilt and disgrace, but I will endeavour,to be p. collected in my reason as possible, though at j, irtain times and seasons I am par- cularly under heavy pressure of cc ind, which my wife well knows oc 1d was well aware of it; that I have 81 )in,a;itted the horrid deed laid to my <Sharge VT have no wish to deny, any more than 1 rre to avoid the dreadful punishment that vaite my guilt. To that I am resigied: ir was it my wishj from the moment of my iin'1, to evade justice; but that 1 committed -n ie deed maliciously against my poor child, ™ ho was the victim of my fatal passion, I 112 lemniy deny. Malice I had 'none. I de- i, are, in the presence of God, before whnl I and and make this declaration, and !>iore lose awful tribunal I must shortly appear, rlt stead of bearing to her malice I loved l er q r^st tenderly. I had kind love to the child a id wished her not to be from me, and to f ■ at love, strange and perverse as it may c-m, is owing- chiefly the sad cause that 2? ings me here this day. I am married to J second wife, by whom this child was my ly daughter. We had long known each other fore our marriage, when I was in better ys, and when she and I were the wife and isband of others. I thought I could be ppy witn her, but I found her temper in- ab rn.pat.ible with my happiness or her own. I mt and the friends and the family with whom she th( s connected thought her marriage to be de- tai 'ding to her. Disputes and oontrovecsv ten years frequently took pla.ee between an: in which, unhappily, both were in fault, ^0; much so. Those disputes were often car- a1!! d to a pitch of fury (and may this sad 81 setaele' that I now stand be a warning h. Of iers, that if they meet with double families nes have more love to their duty): and what the ded still more to exasperate me and aggra- 808 e our dissensions was that those she called thE friends always sided with her in every- str. n.g, whether right or wrong, and many If m, I am sorry to say. who were strenuous yot Lessors of religious principles, were always sea re ready to lend a hand to the fomenting misohief than to the promotion of charity rhe I peace. May the Lord forgive, me, and anc e me to Himself! Our disputes at last I h led in a mutual agreement to separate, and —a child I so tenderly loved was to go to pus mother. This my unhappy temper and or ing could not bear, which led me to the anc il resolution that neither she nor I should He e the child, by committing the horrid deed wif putting an end to her life in the maimer lave done! I pray Almighty God to for- "T, a me and to direct you in your decision my H1 mp this day; and, though here I stand list object of sin and misery, yet I hope mr I mtrov fate will prove an awful example to those who form second but rriages, with children: on both sides, against this ing way to intemperate disputes, and may r "W d them, as they have done me, to acts of find peratioa of vengeance beyond the control was reason and reflection. If my wife was witi sent she could vouch and prove it was im- eag sible I could ever hive deliberately executed h an act. She could'testify that my dis- tog4 ition was not (.ruel, and that when I have YOl n most resolute to good purposes, unfor- tora ately, under agitations of mind or proyo- w ions of temper, such has been my weakness, utiri m not always the same man, and, under they h circumstances, I have frequently been a » into excesses or_ frenzy which in cool pos; nents have astonished me. Once in par- com ilars forced by distress (when I had no by 4 work) to apply for relief at my parish work- house, I had come too late in the day, when, wcund up by disappointment to madness, 1 broke as many windows as cost the parish £4 t) repair. Vet the parish officers, though they might have punished me, did not, know- ing that my act was the result of a mind de- ranged. May the Lorl forgave me and take, arns to Himself. I must die, a spectacle oi iin and horror." I The judge (Sir Archibald Mt cdrnald) having summed up, prisoner was found guilty, and enteneed to be hanged on the frllowing Mon- lay and subsequently dissected. The pri- D ioner heard his sentence without a sign of motion, but the jury; the counsel, and most >f the public—including a large number of 1 ■/omen—in the court were melted to tears. On 118 Monday morning, January 14, the Old 1 bailey was crowded in every corner to witness 1 he execution, which took place just after eight, yter the drop fell Mitchell, who had been aost earnest in listening to the chaplain, cx- iibited the appearance of feeling great pain, I winging round several times by reason of the 8 /iolcnce pf his struggles. His last request ras that, after dissection, his mangled body] hould be given to his daughter for burial, and his the sheriffs promised should be done. t v

sations over the stiff, green wire fence that sepa,rated our grape arbour from her bed of tea- roses. i saved the last SWtwt, frosty bunch for her, and at the first chill lunt of winter helpo-l her cover her roses with straw, making their tall stalks into queer, angular scarecrows for Jack Frost's terrifying. "My mother was a New Englander, and tlia thirst for knowledge of books and men thai smouldered in her breast. flamed into power for her only son, and so I was sent to Harvard. While still a freshman, I came to regard my native tov n as the vanishing point in the per- spective of an inglorious past. With what a lofty smile I should have received the hint that the dark-eyed little girl whom I had left to tie her roses alone might one day amply avenge all my slights! "I conoealeel my boyish delight in life under the most pronouuoed and classic 'indifferen- tism,' and I wonder eVetl now how ever my mother could put up with me. My old friends laughed at my airs and my reformed accent, secretly disliking and efavying me. I naturally found it much pleasanter to spend my vacation* in the seething atmosphere of beings like my- self. after a brief visit to my mother. "During these ocasioiis I ss,w Margaret only once or twice, and always carried away tha disturbing impression that she was in no way impressed either by my superior manners or talents. This was sightly annoying, as she was far and away prettier than any girl of my ac- quaintance, east or west. To be sure, "r had made her blush—such an exquisite rpcl-bu1; it was with vexation. Upon my first- departure we had written one another quite regularly4 but about the middle of my first year I re- ceived a letter from her, in which she pro- fessed humbly to believe that her western ways were but a burden to such an exalted being as I had become—and wrote no more. Her letters were so fresh and individual that I missed them, but I was fatuous enough to iccept her silence as a simole-hearted tribute to my worth. I say, Sawyer, when a man ia 3, fool how many different ways lie finds ta iliow it!' "Or when he is in love" added Sawyer -uefuly. "That stage wa.s to come soon enough. Along the last months of the year I had caught winged words' here and there regarding some I le tot impossible she spending a year in JJostoa, vho had become a creator of contention be- ween various givers of college 'spreads.' You yere in dO, and of course not interested. Would this she accept cne or all of the in- vitations showered upon her? Would she like Pan Rensselaer's rooms best, filled as they were vith old colonial furniture and silver, or rould she prefer to linger at Tsrrey's, in a rarely Bohemian atmosphere, with boxing gloves and burrings? "The affair promised to be interesting, and was bent. upon being a witness, possibly nyself not wholly unnoticed. It was there- ore with a very bad grace that I read in « etter from my mother that Margaret Burton fas in Boston, and asking me to see that sha ras suitably initiated into the preoiousnesa v, If things Harvardian. And yet I was piqued nough when-in answer to my formal note -I had dispensed with the needful call—I eceived a closely worded little note, saying lat. she had already accepted for 'spreads' at T,e,e(i,s and Ilalworthv. I had, of course, sup. )sed that she knew nobody, and had been by 0 means averse toact the modern mentor to fair Telemacha. Of course you've guessed tie end. j.ven an expert detective would ave a clue by this. But I was v as unsuspicions as only a, fore- one conclusion can make one, and when I mntered into White's rooms at Hal worthy, lld saw Margaret surrounded by 'the super- latives,' as we call them, smiling, gracious, 'itty, and wholly at ease, I was dumbfounded, eercome, ecrase. Whether it was that my 1tivity spoke or me, or, as I think now, om pure womanly kindness, Margaret neither ,orne-d me, as I deserved, nor froze me, M Ie well knew how. She gave me her hand, its long yellow glove, made a place besida 3r, and then seemed to quite forget me "I've made a lengthy preamble, but the mouerneiit is at hand. Suffice, it that thQ Jxt year I was her slavish shadow. I imbed awkwardly down out of the rarified r of my superiority, content to be in tliei .me world with her. She perhaps suspected .e truth of one of my own er-Trams—that itf only an unrequited love that makes a. man lod and keeps him humble. She was sweefe id frank and eharmng,but she had no blushes hide from me. There were no quarrels to ake up, and while I got as many smiles as e rest—anel the rest were many and ardent I was never given a confidence nor made Bmbling witness of a tear. "Wherever Margaret went I followed,usually a later train, as I was always forbidden il stated my intentions. Now comes the crisis, Ddestly dramatic! Marga.ret had gone ta arragansett for a ii-eeiz. After two days I -inci the tow n. iiisupportsifoly liot, and. late, arrived at the hotel about eleven dOG>K There was dancing in the ballroom, d as I registered at the desk through the de doors I could see the lights and the >ving figures As I hesitated there, making my mind, as there was no chance of a uce with her, to grumble orosslv off to bed d a lover's dreams, a child, almost a baby, shed suddenly out of the side corridor, and i, sereaminsr shrilly, through the doors and wn the aisle made by the dancers, who re beginning the Lancers. 'Behind the child came an enormous mas- his eyes blazing, a length of red toiigue, iwing between his dripping jaws I do noj ow to this day how I got there, but an tant later I stood in the middle of the ball- >111, holding the child high in the air. Then child began to pound my head and face king violently. The dog stood by my side his tail. A roar from the men and$ irtless giggle from the women began ta ighten me. When the child's mother took i from me, and began resentfuly to smooth vn s tumbled laces, I quite understood. lie dog was the pet and victim of thif ant terrible, and I the hero of a—comedy, Jelly mortified and deeply disgusted., 1 ned to go. Somebody stepped out of thl ■up nearest nie. It was Margaret. Shf d out her hand to me, and in her eyes J d something sweeter than pity. I bought dog, who was, of course, Amado.' Lt the sound of his name the mastiff opened eye sleepily and beat with his great ta| the floor. -Dorotliea Lummis, in "Chicagi er-Ocenn.