The Cecil Whig., 1877-11-24
CONTINUED FROM FIRST PAGE. I


was hurricdly called and verdict given in
accordance with the facts, but there are
thousands in New York tC-lay who believe
that the body Of a dead pauper was sub
siitUie,i for the criminal, who was allowed
to escape, and number of persons have
declareed that they have met him in vari-
ouS parts Of the world. \ street ruttian,
named John Real, murdered a policeman,
seveIa! yoafs ago, aud desperate struggle
ensued between the police authorities and
the friends of the accused, the police to
see if the law was to be vindicated and the
friends of the accused to see if they could
get him reprieved. The fight was pro-
tracted one, enlisting the energies of some
of the best and the worst men in the COM
munity. Every legal technicality was
seized and every advantage taken; the bat
tie lasted two years, and at last the crimi-
nal was condemned to die. On the day of
the execution, countless thousands gathered
outside of the Tombs, eager to gaze on the
granite walls, inside of which a fellow
outside that he had been swung off, a wall
of sorrow went up from the motley crowd,
as if he had been a nations benetactor.
His body was delivered to his friends, and
on the following Sabbath, ten thousand
people followed him to the grave-flags fly
ing aud music playing for one OF the foul
est and meanest murderers that ever dis
graced the criminal records of New ok.
10 see the Tombs in all of its horror and
abasement you should drop in at early dawn
of cold Winter morning; then you sec
assembled in its wretched court room the
criminal sewage of great city. Wretched
woman bloated with drunkenness and dis
ease, outcasts and vagabonds who shrink
from the light of day and only venture out
from their hiding places under the cover of
night, low thieves, burglars, and rutfians,
are mixed up with respectable drunks, and
wretched wives beaten almost out of human
shape by drunken and brutalized husbands
Sorrowful scenes take place here every day
That respectable man you see there, with
his head leaning on the judges desk, IS the
father of those children around him; he
sobs as if his heart would break; for the
mass of rags and filth sitting on the floor
is his wife. How blear eyed and miserable
she looks; how lost to every human sym
pathy and feeling. The father cries as he
tells the story of his wretched life. Only
ten years ago she was beautiful girl,
educated and beloved by all who knew her.
The demon of drink took possession of her,
and she went downtown till there was
no lower depth for her to fall. God help.
he only can help now. They led her out
of the courtroom to send her to the Island.
Will she ever come back? Perhaps not.
No matter-et the curtain fall on her,
there is misery enough beside. Four VII
famous looking boys took her place The
oldest is about twelve; but he has
hard, seamy, Jack Sheppard kind of face,
which distinguished in the embryo the
genus thief. He is not at all embarrassed
at his position, but looks smilngly on the
Young vagabonds, outside the bar, as much
as to say to them "don't you wish you
were here in my placer' His companions
stink behind him, as if afraid to be seen.
Justice Flammer casts his eye over the
crowd, and sends them, till they are of age,
to Randall's Island. The fellow with the
bald head and the hook nose is a notorious
fence. He was the receiver of the young
thieves who have just been taken away.
His case goes over TO the Special Session.
Five years in the state prison, at least for
him. The next is young girl, not over
sixteen. She was comely once. Her rich
auburn hair is tangled and matted; her
clothes are muddy; her eyes are blackened.
She is one of the lowest of the frail sister,
hood, which critic of one of our leading
dailies called soled doves. Soied she is
so foul that not all great Neptune's ocean
will wash her clean again on earth. Per-
haps, somewhere in the great beyond, He
who forgave the penitent harlot may also
forgive her, and the passage through
.Iordan's stormy waves may leave her gar
ments, now so foul and loathsome, pure as
the breath of heaven and white as the spot
less snow.
The cigar makers, who struck six weeks
ago, still hold ont. Some of the shops
have undertaken to employ American girls,
and the vagabond Bohemians set upon
them one night last week, tearing the
clothes from their backs in the open streets,
and if it had not been for the timely inter
ference of some citizens number of them
might have been killed. The wretched
brutes, who would attack defenseless
women, must be taught that the United
States is not Bohemia, and that in this
country the first liberty granted to the cti-
zens is the right to his own labor.
A brutal prize fight for five hundred dol.
lars took place right under the noses of the
police, and | am ashamed to confess it. but
the money was put up by bankers and
brokers of Wall street, who thought it a
particularly fine thing to see a couple OF
brutes beat each other to mummy. Ihope
some pous missionary from the Kingdom
of Dahomey or the Fejee Islands may take
pity on our benighted condition, and show
us the way to light
Hoping that this Feiee Moody and Da
honey Sankey may place our wayward feet
in the crooked and narrow path.
| am. truly yours, BROADBRIM.
A STRANGE SToRY.-The following re-