The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1889-01-18

to the play, and as we went and 10
turned in U hackney coach / felt toll
ernbly safe; but confess much as
hated school, was glad to go away
even to that nauseus place, SO that
might leave murderous London be.
hind me.
Let those ofmy friends who read
this confession with u contemptuous
smile on their somewhat aged faces
remember the days of the garroters,
and then let them lay their hands on
the plnce where their hearts ought to
be and then declare-if they Gun do
80 without committing perjury-tllat
they never walked home from some
iovial gathering with the dread OF
being choked and robbed before they
got there!
appeal to thee, my old friend
Rivers! didst not thou purposely put
on IL ragged coat and seedy trousers,
together with u wideawake, worn and
weather-stained FUSED in thy famous
picture of "The Starving Pcasant')
SO that the garroter might pass thee
by us Improbable plumber? What
but cowardly fear, similar to that
which acknowledge, possessed thee
when thou misconducted thyself in
that dastardly fashion? And you,
o my friends Du Maurier and Prin-
sep, do you not remember dining at
Pembridge Villas in garroting times,
when your fellow-guest, Hepworth
Dixon, gave lis IL thrilling account OF
an attack upon him by two garroters,
how he struggled with them when
they tried to put "the hug"
upon him; how with IL ma
tural dread of those prowl.
ing miscreants, he had armed
himself with bowie-knife, the first
flash Of which in their faces fright
ened the garottcrs away; and even
before the applause OF Dixon's valor
had ceased among us, did not you,
Du Maurier, declare that you were
one of the garotters, and that it was
Dixon who ran away? And did not
Prinsep, A. r. A., after declaring he
was the second garotter, produce a
penknife from his waistcont pocket
and eXclaim: "And here is the bowie
knife which you dropped when you
ran?"
Gentle reader, this is but the pre-
Jude to my swelling tale, for the
truth of which l pledge my word.
Among my acquaintance are sew
cral deaf-and-dumb artists, one or
two extremely clever ones. Thestudy
OF art recommends itselfpeculiarly to
those who are SO terribly afflicted, be-
ing. perhaps, the only ono they could
pursue, and then only under condi-
tions of great difficulty. Mr.. George
Road, after passing some years in
Rome-as was the custom fifty years
ago-came to England and pitched
his tent in southampton street. Fitz-
roy square. He was deaf. dumb, and
bachelor, possessing, believe, suf-
ftcicnt private means to make him
independent of his profession, and to
enable him to devote himsclfto what
are called "tlo highest branches of
the art" he was, in fact, an historic
al painter of considerable merit. His
studio was large room, with the
usual decorations and properties of
the well-to-do painter. There were
casts from the antique, armor, tn
pcstry and q family of lay figures,
consisting OF Al male, female and u
child; and i'll u smaller room, off the
studio, the artist keeps u goodIy as
sortment of brushes, colors and 9TH
er necessities of his profession. My
ron In,, must 1,o,, >, l., ,,,;,,,l %l,,% 49,
speaking of the time when Burke and
Hare, whose eftigies now figure in
Madame Tussaud's Chamber OF Hor-
rors-murders on the lines of Bishop
and Williams-had Mortified London
and the country by their crimes. 1t
was, in fact, just after the execution
of those worthless that Mr.. Road ad-
vertised for u man-servant. The ar
fist had seen several specimens ofthe
London footman, none OF which sat
isfied him, when, to use n parliament
tary phrase, he "appea[ed to the
country" and on dull morning in
November q young man presented
himself in Southampton street and
rang the painters bell.
] must premise that the would-be
servant was of a very timorous na-
ture; this was his first experience of
London, a place in which murder was
in the air, with the dread of Burke
or rather, being burked. as it was
callcd-in full possession of him. He
had asked his way, and found it with
great difficulty. to southampton
street. l have come from Gloucester
SHIRE said lie to tho woman who
opened the door to him, ito take a
place with this gentleman'-showing
her the advertisement-''i f it suits
NE thou knows" albright, "said the
maid, "walk in"
The house was dark. the staircase
gloomy, and the trembling country
man wasshown into the dimly-lighted
painting room.
1t was an awful place! the only light
came from one halfclossd window.
The antique casts of faces, hands and
feet, looking like DEATH in theirghast-
ly Wilderness, deepcncd his terrors.
What did it all mean? had he fallen
into the den of Il murderer? and what
are those three things covered up
with white sheets? As he approached
the lay figures his fears were intensi-
fed; he touched the largest one-he
started back with horror! Yes! it is
IL human body! it was an arm he felt,
and then leg: he turned. and 10! Il
man with some instrument IA pal
lette) in his left hand. and a huge
lpallettcl in his right! Road had
been mixing some lake and vermilion
in the small room for the robe of
King Lear.
This finished the countryman. He
seized the poker and began backing
toward the door. The dumb man
uttered some inarticulatc sounds.
which only served to increase the
mans tcrrols.
"What does thee say, thou villain?
Come another step and I'll knock thy
brains out! Here. hill" he shouted
"murder murtlcrn'
The door opened and the maid ap-
peared. whats the matter?" said
the girl. "What are you shouting
about? they'll hear you in the
street."
want 'em to hear" said the at.
frighted m,ln:"I want to get out ofthis
place; thee open the door and let me
out this minute-mllI1ler. murdert'