Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1869-06-11
A Juryman's Story.
BY JUDGE CLARK.


been committed and though no eye
had witnessed the deed, circumstances
pointed to the prisoners guilt with un-
falling certainty.
The recusant juror had stood out from
the first. He acknowledged the cogency
of the proofs, confessed his inability to
reconcile the facts with the defendants
innocence, and yet, on every vote, went
steadily for acquittal.
His conduct was inexplicable. Itcould
not result from lack of intelligence I;
for while he spoke but little, his words
were well chosen, and evinced a thorough
understanding of the case.
Though still in the prime of manhood,
his locks were prematurely white, and
his face wore sad and thoughtful ex-
preston.
He might be one of those who entertain
ed scruples as to the right of society to
infict the death penalty. But no, it was
not that; for in reply to such sugges-
ton, he frankly admitted that brutal
men, like the vicious brutes they resem-
BILE, must be controlled through fear, and
that dread of death, the supreme terror,
is, in many cases, the only adequate re-
straint.
At the prospect of another night OF
fruitless imprisonment we began to grow
impatient, and expostulated warmly
against what seemed an unreasonable ca
priciousness and some not over kind re-
marks were INDUCED in as to the impro-
priety of trifing with an oath like that
under which we were acting.
And yet" the man answered, as
though communing with himself rather
than repelling the imputation, SIT is
Conscience that hinders my concurrence
in verdict approved by my Judgment.
How can that be?," inquired several
at once.
Conscience may not always dare tt
follow judgment
"But here she can know no othel
guide
81 once would have said the same"
''And what has changed your opinion!
EXPERIENCE!
The speakers manner was visibly agi
tated, we waited in silence the explana.
ton which he seemed ready to give.
Mastering his emotion, as if in ans
wer to our looks of inquiry, he contin
ued:
"Twenty years ago was young MAJ
Just beginning life. Few had brighte
prospects and none brighter hopes.
An attachment, dating from childhoo
had ripened with its object. There ha
been no verbal declaration and accer
tance of love-no formal plighting c
troth, but when l took my departure t
seek home in the distant West, it wa
thing understood, that when ha
found it and put it in order, she was
share,it.
Life in the forest, though solitary,
not necessarily lonesome. The kind {
society afforded by nature, depends muc
, on ones self As for me, lived more
the future than in the present, and hoI
is an ever cheerful companion.
. At length the time came for maxim
the final payment on the home which
had bought. 1t would henceforth be M
: own, and in few months, my simp
. dwelling, which | had spared no pail
, to render inviting, would be graced |
= its mistress.
At the land-office which was some si
: ty miles off, / met my old friend Geor!
. G. He, too, had come to seek his fo
tune in the West, and we were both d
lighted at the meeting. He had broug
with him, he said a sum of money whi
> he desired to invest in land, on which
- was his purpose to settle.
:. expressed strong wish to have hi
20 for neighbor, and gave him a cordi
Il invitation to accompany me home, gi
!, ing it as my belief that he could nowhe
make better selection than in that
II cinity.
- He readily consented, and we set o
together We had not ridden ma
= miles, when George suddenly recollect
d. commission he had undertaken fol
a friend, which would require his after
af ance at a public land-sale on the folio
a. ing day.
Exacting a promise that he would /
Il delay his visit longer than was necessa
:, and having given minute directions as
rs the route, continued my way homewi
while he turned back.
\ | was about retiring to bed on
night of my return, when a summC
u from without called me to the door.
stranger asked shelter for himself a
his horse for the night.
/ invited him in. Though a strang