The Sedalia weekly bazoo. [volume] (Sedalia, Mo.) 187?-1904, 1881-07-26
HANGING OF MARTIN DADSO

"You don't think they'll really hang
me, do 'ee?" asked Martin Dadso
looking up from his last meal but one
on Sunday evening. in the condemn
ed cell Of the county Jail at NJ, i,
England. The cook had consideratel,
sent him up some buttered toast, Will
bacon and eggs and nice, strong tea
and the murderer was filling his mouth
rather raveEouslv with these refresh
ments. He was a large eater. large
man, altogether, with massive shout
ders. thick neck and mighty fists.
Look 'ee here" he repeated, Il
never murdered that mon. He hit
me first !; l knocked 'un down. but he
picked hisself up and walked oil
swearin'. Lord knows who put the
knife into 'un afterward. | didn't
and they can make me swing for it !;
eh, old 'un ??
81 dessay reprievell come," ans
wered the old 'un, who was one of the
two wardens that had to keep watch
over the murderer. He said this out
Of charity; he did not believe what
he said.
give known reprieves come at the
very last minute" observed the second
warden, younger man.
"Doan't 60 foolin' a chap mum
bled Martin Dadso. with his mouth
full of toast. "Tell me t truth !;
hasn't t reprieve come already"
at amt come vet, but will, maybe,
tonight" replied the old 'un, stol-
idly.
Il wish they'd look sharp about it.,
for l want to 60 whOam," grumbled
the prisoner. ats three months since
left t farm to coome here. and nv
old dad amt equal to minding the
place wi all his troubles on him. Did
ZEE see how white his hair was when
he COON to see me yesterday, with t
old CONAN
"Never mind, they'll grow young
again when you 60 home to EN-" said
the young warder. $50 will your
sweetheart-a fine young lady she
is"
"Ah, my sweetheart" muttered
Martin Dadso. his voice suddenly
deepening to a tone of infinite tender
ness. 1.-The only time l felt bad
through all this business was when
saw her cry when she guv' her evil
dence at trial. Poor Mary! =
She never thought me guilty, though !;
She's too good stuff for that"
1t was for numbering his rival in the
affections of Miss Mary White. doc
tors daughter, that Martin Cadso had
been sentenced to die. He was him
self not poor man, but a thriving
farmer; and he had received a good
education, though he spoke in such a
broad dialect, having lived all his life
in the country. The man whom he
had been convicted of numbering was
. young solicitor, a rather pushing,
prying person named Pullen and the
crime had caused considerable aston
shment, by reason of Dadso's sup
posed steadiness of character. But
the guilt had been brought home to
him by such clear testimony that the
judge had warned him to hope for no
mercy. Dadso, however, had loudly
protested his innocence as he left the
dock.
The warders, who had been watch
ing him for nearly three weeks in the
condemned cell, had heard him so of.
ten affirm his innocence that they
could not exactly decide whether he
vas an ill-used man or a hardened
bar. Until this Sunday night they
had inclined toward the latter idea,
but now that he was on the very
threshold of death, and still appeared
10 be hoping for a reprieve. they
wavered. The old 'un scrutenized him
through the corners of his eyes with
mixture of suspiciousness and SYM
pathy, and the younger warder stared
1t him with his mouth half open, un-
able to form any new opinion Of the
case. The thought uppermost in this
young warder's mind was by that time
tomorrow yonder prisoner, now such
. healthy, hulking lout, would be
resting with his neck broken in q bed
Of quick lime, and this caused him
occasionally to feel cool up the spine.
Martin DadsO finished his tea tn
the last crumb; then stood up-a
towering, strapping figure, six feet
Highland slouched toward the fire
place. The condemned cell was us
ed at ordinary times as a warder's
.oom, and it had a fire place. Mar
tin drew a Windsor chair near the
fender, took up a volume of the
Leisure Hour, and began to look at