New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1919-02-02

every SIDE. That peaceful hearth we
had built crumbled to pieces. Ny SON
they discharged my son from
the business house, too, and it was use-
less for him to look for a new nIaca
or seek aid from his friends Who
cares to associate with the son of an
executioner? Poor little son, AS if he
had been given to choose his father be-
fore coming into the world: How was
he to blame, the excellent bow. for INV
having engendered him? He used to
spend the whole day at home, fleeing
the sight of people, in a corner of the
little garden, sad and distracted since
the death of his sister.
"'What are you thinking of, Antoniog,
would ask. I'm thinking of Anita
papa The poor fellow was deceiving
me. He was thinking of himself, of how
cruelty we had talked ourselves into
believing for time that we were the
equals of other persons-committing the
insolence of wishing to be happy The
fall had been a terrible one. 1t was
impossible for him to regain his feet.
ANTONIO disappeared.
And didn't you ever learn what be-
came of your SOM" asked Yanez, inter-
ested in the lugubrious tale.
eyes. -Four days later They fshed
him out of the water at Barcelona; he
came up enmeshed in nets, swollen and
decomposed. You can guess
the rest. The poor old woman went off
little by little, as if the children were
pulling at her from up above. And I,
the evil one, the hard-hearted fellow have
been left here alone, all alone, without
even the consolation of drink For if
l get drunk they come, you understand
They, my prosecutors, to madden me
with the f1uttering of their black sacks,
as if they were huge crows, and I feel
as if my last hour has come.
I And, nevertheless, I don't hate them
The unhappy souls! I almost wept
when l see them on the little stool. Tt
IS not they that have done me harm. If
all the world should be converted into
single person, and if all the unknown
people that robbed ME of my wife and
children by their scorn and their ami
mostly had single neck that was given
into my hands. ali, how I would wiring
it! with what pleasurel"
His voice rose to shrek, and he
had sprung to his feet, brardishing his
fists violently, as if turning an imagi-
nary lever. He was no longer the same
tirnid being, heavy paunched and whim-
d. pering. His eyes glowed with red spots
that resembled blood-spatters his mus
tache bristled and he seemed to have
grown taller, as If the wild beast that
slept in him had, on awakening,
stretched itself formidably in its lair.
Through the silence of the prison
there resounded ever more clearly the
dolorous mumbling that came from the
dungeon. "Our Father who art in
! Heaven
Don Nicomedes did not hear it. He
paced furiousIy to and fro, shaking with
his footsteps the floor that served as a
roof for his victim. At last he be-
came aware of the monotonous suppl
cation.
"How that unhappy fellow does
singw he murmured. "And how little
does he realize that l am here, directly
overhead"
He sat down, breathless, and for a
long time was silent, until his thoughts
and his eagerness to protest obliged him
to speak.
"Just look, senior: know that I'm a
bad man and that folks ought to despise
me. But what irritates ne is the lack
of logic about the whole thing If what
do is a crime, then let them abolish
the death penalty and I'll die of hunger
in some corner, like a dog But if it
is necessary to kill for the security of
good citizens, then why am I hated?
The prosecuting attorney who demands
the head of the criminal would be moth
ing without me, who obey; we're all
wheels of the same machine. And by
God, we deserve equal respect For [
am functionary . with thirty
years of service to my credit"
snopa ,he gown worn by The condemned man.