The Dewsbury Chronicle, and West Riding Advertiser. — 1894-06-09 (Dewsbury, West Yorkshire, England)

BOO. He employed-50 men; -Who-- wernso fond , of him on account' of his honestyand uprightness that they worked for him although they -had not receive,d. any wages for some time. During the• last few days he had- tried to get the money' together to pay his men, but in vain. • Ile and his wife then decided to take their own lives and the lives of their children, .as they would not leave the latter to an uncertain future. Seiger's brother lived in a room separated from those of the family by two dark 'closets. ` The two eldest sons, aged 16- and 13 respectively, -generally slept with their uncle. When. he came' home late on Friday evening, he was. astonished to find the 'boys still' up, but- his sister-in-law said, "Go to bed; Rudolf and Bruno are sleeping with us to-night." Although this unusizararrangement rather surprised him still he went to bed and was soon sleeping. Oh Saturday morning at 6 o'clock he left his room and saw his nephew. Martin, aged 10,' lying, on his bed dressed, buti a corpse. In the second room -lay ,the little Elizabeth, undressed and dead. Bruno lay in the next" room, dead on the sofa. In the second front room' he found the 'dead bodies of the three other members of the family—the son Rudolf at the door leading into the corridor; his mother on the sofa with a cord round her neck, and her husband hanging to the door-post. The latter still shewed signs of life, , but he die,sl • soon alter without regaining conscionsriess. On the corpses being examined it was seen that the three youngest children had been strangled partly with a cord and partly with the hands of 'the murderer; till they-lost-consciousness. - They were then evidently poisoned. The eldest son seems to have struggled - violently with. his parents, for he has not only marks of strangulation on his neck, but.the veins of his left hand had been severed with a kitchen knife, and the furniture twas in disaider. The poison administered seems to have been prussic acid. On a table stood two milk jugs and two wine glasses containing poison, and the cords used 'in strangling the 'children were on the floor. _ _ _ _  The' head ;of: the Painters' Guild received on Saturday morning a letter from Seiger containing the following words: "Many losses which I have suffiredhave ruined me. After struggling for years, I have finished. If the Guild grants suicides a simple funaral,then I beg for one. If it is possible still think, well of me. I send the best greetings to you and all who sympathise with me. Farewell, --Seiger." A few lines addressed to his workmen, to whom he (4ed money, were as follows: "I beg you to forgive me for what I have done, but I could mt get on without cheating as r have been cheated." It appears that Seiger first murdered his family, and only then wrote and posted the letters. From the letter-box he returned • home and committed suicide. The poor man's misfortunes had evidently driven him mad, for he was always a most affectionate father and husband.  Remorse has driven a dishonest emplo.yeS of Vie Paris Assistanee-Publique to commit suicide. The. man, who was entrusted by the municipal authorities with sums to be distributed among the poor,was in the habit of pocketing more than half of the funds given him for charitable purposes. The frauds having been detected, the dishonest employe endeavoured a first time to k;11 himself. His wife; on coming home one day, f ,und, to her astonishment, her husband lying half dazed on his bed—a charcoal stove by his side. Frustrated in his design, the than waited for another opportunity, and.when the police came to arrest him on a charge of swindling. 4h.v onund that vilA had hanged himselft  'lmpressive gloom and fickle sun-gleams of the sea-beaten northern isles and the rugged, wave-fretted coast of Norway seem to cast a spell upon the writers who seek to describe them and their people, and to compel them to write those sad, weirdtales in which one fancies one hears the mournful sighing of the wind and the monotonous sobbing of the sea. Of this we have evidence .in Pierre Loti's "Pecheur d'lslande," that delicately-told story of northern' fisher-life, and in Jonas Lie's Nordland gem," The _Visionary," which has exercised such a fascination over all its readers. We have,. however, at home a writer who can paint with as true a touch the , unfamiliar island scenery, and describe as minutely and clearly the over-shadowed life of the northern solitudes. In "Pharais," iby Fiona Macleod, which has just been issued 1 by Mr. -Frank Murray, of . Derby, the author I writes a ;tory- interwoven with all the beauty i and sadness of an island existence in the Hebrides, ' and has drawn a ' picture of the "people whc, Ilive in the shadow and believe that the Lani of Eternal Youth is far away across the sea,' 1 which will "fix-itself indelibly, upon the mind. F T. .1. RI rade; whe...otice. he . haq gad tt c_ pc.pk,