The Alaska citizen., 1912-09-09

In the crime wave that spread there was no crime so revolting. no death so sad, no story so pitiful as the horrible end of pretty little Julia Connors. the 12-yearold victim of the insane passion of a youth Lured to an apartment house, assaulted, and stabbed over 40 times with a penknife when she resisted the at tack, the little body was terribly mutilated, the bleeding form, still alive, crammed forcibly into a boz, taken away and thrown into a va cant lot nearby. where it was found only two days later.
 Even callous New York was shock ed at the awfulness of the murder Men shed tears as they read of how the crime had been committed. The heart-broken parents of the pretty little tot received thousands of letters from sympathzers all over the state. A vail of protest went up when the police failed to inter- cept the murderer at once
 MAoDENED BY WoMAN's VANITY
 The police, however. can never prosecute the murderer. He is be- yond the pale of the law. The story of his life and of his death Is a sad one His reason impaired as the result of an evil boyhood, men, tally blind during fits of temporary dementia brought on by vassalage to demons of the flesh, was it the painted peacock, siren styles affected by the young girlhood and woman hood of freak fashioned New York which drove Nathan Swartz to de- stroy the little innocent Julia Con nors and doom his own destruction? Many will say that it was, but the last scrap of writing, the last words of this maniac murderer suicide to his dear old mother furnishes the most convincing proof that it was.
 Before he inhaled the deadly fumes of gas which sucked his own life blood away, Nathan Swartz penciled on soiled linen collar this:
 II am guilty and I am insane. It was caused by the beautiful makeup of women"
 A thrilling and a tragic indictment of the young girls in New York to- day. When the proprietor of the lodging house, in which the boy had hired a dingy tenement bedroom, smelled gas, he traced it to the home of the youth, who eight days pre- viOusly had taken his cheapest room. He did not force the door, for in the heart of the slums of any big city where suicides are far from rare, the proprietors of the cheaper places know what to do. The policeman forced the door. Swartz lay on the bed, the end of a gas tube, which ran from the jet in the middle of the room, in his mouth, his eyes clos ed in their last sleep. A letter ad- dressed to his mother lay on chair nearby It read:
 This is only to my dead mother. who I am always homesick for. and to pa whose word am taking for doing this, which l figure the easi- est and best for my own expiation"
 Around the room there were scat tered several pieces of newspaper and on one of these was written the sentence:
 'T was sorry the minute after l did it, so don't cry for me-"
 FATHER COMMANDED SUICIDE Only a few days previous to the finding of the dead body of young Swartz, the father of the boy in formed the police that his son had told him that he killed the Connors girl, to which the father responded that there was nothing left for the son but suicide.
 That reason had long been waver- ing from her throne in the mind of Nathan Swartz is apparent from the | briefest glance over his dark career That evil habit had made the boy at