Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1897-02-15

Hunger at last drove ME out. | got
through the snow somehow. and reached
Il house, where the people saved me
from dying Of starvation. But nothing
could make me go again TO the spot
where | had done the murder. My life
since then has been one of agony. Even
now that | am going to be hanged. | am
happier than ] have felt for months.
May God forgive my crime.
II pleaded guilty at the trial because
[ turned round in the dock, and SlW the
woman who | thought was Il spirit
standing up and ready to denouncc me
to the judge. | knew that she saw me
that night, and | was bound to be found
guilty.
this is truth AS | hope for mercy. y
is all true! William Evans.
'P. ST. took the above confession
down from the prisoners dictatlOn. 1t
should be all you want. The man seems
thoroughly penitent, but | do not trouble
you with his expressions OF remorse ana
regret.
''Stephen Crisp.
We read the last lines; the paper fiut,-
tered down from our hands; we turned
to each other. Tears of deep thankful
ness were in my Wife's sweet eyes
Down to the smallest detail, the wretch
ed mans confession made everything
clear Nothing was left unexplained, eX-
cept, perhaps, the motive which Induced
Philippa to go that night to meet her
would-be betrayer once more THIS we
shall never know. but her temporary
madness may amply account Tor It, we
need seek no further; the falntest doubt
as to her own perfect innocence is re-
moved from my Wlfe,s mnd; HAND III
hand. heart to heart, lip to lip, we can
STA md and fQpI that trOTDlpS re al
last over.
Our troubles over! Shall those words be
the last | write? No, one scene more
the scene that lies before me even now.
An English home. Outside, green
shaver lawns, trim paths, ana tine
old trees. Inside, the comfort al; and
the peace which make an Eng-
lish home the sweetest in the world.
For when the need was gone; when sun
ny Spain was no longer for us the one
safe land. its charms diminished. and VIC
pinned to see once more England,s tar
fields, and ruddy, honest faces. 30 Dack
we came, and made ourselves at home,
far, far away from every spot the sight
Of which might wake sad thoughts. And
here we live, and shall live till that
hour when one of us must kiss the others
clay-cold brow. and know that death has
parted those whom naught but death
could part.
Look out; look through this shaded
window. There she sits, my wife: a tall
son by her side fair daughters near her.
Years, many years have passed, but
left no lines upon her brow: brought no
white threads to streak that raven hair:
The rich. bright beauty of the girl IS stlll
her own. To me, now rs of yore. the
sweetest. fairest woman in the world.
The children see me as | gaze with
thoughtful happy eyes upon that group
beneath the trees. They call and beckon
me. Ny wife looks up: her eyes meet
All! love, sweet love, in those dear eyes
what was it once my fate to read?
Shame, sorrow, dread. despair. and love.
All these, save love. have vanished long
ago; and as I turn to pen these lines-the
last-that look of calm, assured, uncloud-
ed iov keeps with me. telling me that
from her life has passed even the very
memory Of those dark, dark days.
THE END