The Poole Telegram. — 1882-06-23 (Poole, Dorset, England)

POOLE, FRIDAY, JUNE 23, 1882.  ebb% attb cents.  VE RAC ITT !—The Daily Telegraph of Monday has the ioliowin4, underneath its leailera and in big type. I remember " excerpting " both anecdotes, 1:om a American paper, an 1 Inserting them in the Telegram a in four or five years ago. Perhapi, my re lidera mai have forgotten them, so I retroduce the Fleet-street Shuttlecock's paragraph :—" How easily persons of fervid imagination may ho led into untruthfulness by auy attempt to rival them in the matter of marvellous narrative, is demonstrated by the following veracious anec lote. Daring the Servia's lost passage across the I Atlstitio two of her passengers, an American and an linglishman, were conversing one day upon sporting subjects. A casual mention of Hurlingham afforded the American an opportunity for stating that on one vary particular occasion he had shot nine hundred &Ed ninety-nine pigeons running. Up m his iaterlocut observing that "he mi4lat jwt as well have said a thousand whilst be was about it," he rejoined, " Certainly not ; I should scarcely tell a lie for the sake of I single pigeon I" Upen this the Englishman, giving rein to hie fancy, recounted at considerable length the extraordinary achievement of a man, unknown to him by name, who had swum all the way from Liverpool to Boston. "Did you see him do it?" asked the Yankee. "Of course I did. As I was crossing the Atlan,ic with some friends our steamer passed him a few miles outaide Boston harbour." " Well, sir," exclaimed the American, smiling exultantly, " I am real down-right glad that you saw him. I WAS that man ; and henceforth, if anybody presumes to call my principal feat of natation into question, I shall request you to testify to it as an eye-witness."  But I have heard a better than either of the above, and it is also told by a passenger "on board the Sends during her last pa,sage across the Atlantic," and I an convinced it is quite as veracious as the other, for one had only to look at the 3oung man who related me the story t) be quite certain he was a descendant of the good little LIR who "never told a lie"—the immaculate Franklin, who, as we all know, axed down his father's best aprle tree, and then axed his pardon, confessing his fault. Therefore, I attach iuTlieit faith to it, at least almost as implicit as the Editor of the Telegraph seems to have accorded the other narrations of the passengers of the " Servia."  It is as follows. When out in the U.S. this truthful young man happened to look into a court of justice, In one of the big towns. A man had been found guilty of murdering his father and mother under pnuliarly atrocious circumstances. He was asked after the usual formula what he had to say, whyl sentence of death should not be passed. He meekly replied he had a great deal to say as he felt pe,sonelly interested in the matter—ha hope I the judge would have mercy upon him as he was apoor orphan ! The judge blandly informed him he had fully taken that into consideration but after looking at all the circumstances he felt there was no alternative but to order him to be hAnged. —He ouly hoped it would be a warning to him in the future ! I—Daily Telegraph, please copy.  To CONS TO MiRE serious subjects, "a ratqnlyer " writes complaining of the inlets of the drains being emptied in the day time. He wishes to kn AV why it cannot be done during the night with other necessary work. I presume the Borough Surveyor knows his own business beet, but, at the same time, I sympathies with my correspondent. The odours to be derived from the operation certainly do not, I should think, tend to induce a relish for the ducks and green peas, Thank Providence and the surveyor, there is a "measurable distance' between one of these drain and the humble abode in which I reside!  THN LIGHTING Or