Year: 1865




therein by the public. As the shooting of
Burroughs occurred many months ago. and
the circumstances of the case have been
forgotten by many. we copy the following
epitome of the affair from the Cincinnati
Times. which came TO hand by SATURDAYS
overland mail The case is sad one, and
its history is but that of many others that
have preceded, and no doubt will continu-
to succeed 1.-THE oft-told tale: love, deser
tion. despair. desparation


Is The trial of a young woman in the cap
ital of the country for shooting her lover,
contains many points of interest 1t is not
the old. old story of love and seduction. 1t
is case, though somewhat aggravated case
we admit. of modern Irritation. Many years
ago, away out West. there was little Irish
girl Mary Harris by name. She was
pretty, black eyed and roguish. She was
poor. Her parents were dead, and she
lived with some relatives who treated her
kindly and gave her such advantages as thev
were able Presently she met young man
who took a fancy to he~ fresh morning face
and short dresses, and ngratiated himself
into the good opinion of the old people, and
visited her often, as young man of two or
three and twenty might visit a child of



mate, and his puss-in boots we dare saw
They took long walks together. and sat bv
the river side whole days. and read fairy
tales. And so they parted for time,


But our little Irish girl is poor and is
growing to womanhood, and has to do some.
thing for a living. She is sent, therefore
to a neighboring village and becomes sales,
maid for n jolly old shopkeeper. who. after
n xrh 10 1ofb Il.


honest and handsome. One day she gets a
letter. The young man with the brown
mustache has not forgotten her. and wants
still to be her dear. dear friend. And. in
deed. he is that, for this bright, hearty Irish
girl has warm heart of her own, and is
grateful and constant. So she writes him a
ready answer. .anot very well spelled, perhaps.
but CHEEKY and robust like herself. She is
sixteen; he is approaching thirty-a fair
contrast. He has education and an air
about him she has no education to speak of.
but keen appreciation and ambition. They
write each other great MANY letters-all
after the usual style-first riendship-next
avowal-finally love- This must have been
a sad case of love, too, for, as the little girl
progresses with her onward march to
womanhood, the 1.-THE and buoyant spirit



comes intense. She loves her lover to dis
traction. and they meet once more, and she
is his darling little Mollie.


At this time Mary Harris must have been
what the young gentlemen call killing
little fascinator. She was just past seven.
teen-a trim fgure-a swanlike nee -
comely face-not too small, luxuriant hair
and naicette. All the larks around town
were half mad about her. She wore bit of
a gray cloak and gypsy hat. But she cared
not fig for the whole of them. She was
wrapped up in her old bachelor, as she called
him, and would follow him to the end of the
world. She said so, at least, and he believed
her, and he began to practice upon her love
and trust. But Irish virtue is an article of
stubborn quality. and often defes the fiercest
passion. In this case, at any rate it did
SO. The lover, failing to carry his point,
gradually grew tired of his little Mollie,
after Irritation of five or six wears. Men
very often. too often, we fear, weary of their
little Mollies. through such long siege of
love, and they have no mind to make them
their little wives ard are not able to make
them anything else. are quite ready to give
them over. The old bachelor now getting
into his thirties, was tired, he wanted to
marry somebody else; he did not want to
marry his little Molly, so he gave her over
Yes, he gave her over. gradually, however,
by neglect and absence. and went to Wash
ington to mold an office under the Govern
ment.


What must have been the feelings of this
wild little Irish girl, with her warm heart,
active spirit, her keen sensibilities, her ar
dent love, to find herself cast off, like worn
out garment. after FIVE years of constancy
and devotion? Love is cruel passion. 1t
is bitter sweet 1t has its dark lines at best.
and to this prosecuted, abandoned girl they
must have been hideously dark. for she took
to brooding, and grew wan and pale, and
suffered, and she was not herself anymore
1t was thus that she resolved in her bitter
ness and wrath, in her misery and mani
ton, that she would follow him and kill
him. Kill him. yes. for he had not killed
love and life in her? Had he not married
another woman, and how can you offend a
woman who loves you, more mortally than
by marrying some one else.


She went to Washington. She sought
the Departmental in which he was employed
1t was dull, cold Jaunary afternoon. The
janitor at the door showed her up the fight
of stone steps. and through the long hail.
anu poluteu oul tue very rouln, uucOHScious
as Government janitor must have been,
of her bloody purpose. just as she reaches
the door, she meets her victim coming out
with friend. He sees her, and no doubt
a prophetic light flashes within him, for he
exclaims. My God Two eports-sharp,
ringing pistol shots echoing and re-echoing
throughout those long corridors and COL
umns-follow in quick succession, and the
false lover lies a dead man upon the gray
mating of the floor.


The deed is DONE The deception of years
is expiated. The revenge of months of wild
and lonely meditation is complete. Alas,
poor, frail humanity Little rosebud has
done it Little Molly is murderer. Oro
guish eyes of black 0 pink and peachen
cheek! o, hood, and dimple, and short
trocks and pantalettes /! Never any more
peace. never any more innocence, never any
more cilm, sweet. Boots it to you, now that
he is dead, that he was the husband of
another woman, that be wronged you and
deserted you?


vows Of unheard of and endless devotion,


How ye have ia led awayr'


s. eors Tie mil. A little puff o. smoke
ii little seent Of p wlar-. lev drop, Of
,nd-and he little Irish girl is d ,wu