Year: 1872




insanity which had recently been de-
veloped in the vicinity of the town, the
unfortunate victim of which was then
confined in the city prison ready to be
conveyed the following morning to the
asylum. The man had been resident
of the valley for a number of years,
and was possessed of comfortable prop
erty.


The sympathy and kindly feeling
toward him expressed by all who knew
him of the number of gentlemen pres
ent, aroused my curiosity to know the
cause of his present lamentsble con-
dition and Mr.. Tower, whose business
led HIM into contact with. a great many
people, and who, Ike all live men con
nected in any way with newspapers, had
the faculty of knowing a little about
everything Of general interest that was
going on, related for my satisfaction all
that was known of the causes which led
to the insanity of George Beale, that
being the name of the unfortunate man.
"About three years ago." said MI
Tower, 1" Mr.. Samuel Beale, the father
of this poor fellow, died, leaving George,
his only child, in possession of number
of city lots which have since become
valuable, and which even at that time
yielded no inconsiderable revenue.
George was intensely selfish where per-
sonal indulgence was concerned. What
he wanted he would have, and it mat
tered very little to him whose rights
were trampled on to obtain it. At that
time there lived near town a family,
whose daughter Eva was one Of the
brightest, fairest, ost winsome daugh-
| ters of the valley. George Beale became
acquainted with Eva just after she had
finished her education at the convent,
and after season of the most devoted
attention on his part, it became gen.
| orally known that they were engaged to
be married. She had friends in San
Francisco to whom she would pay oc-
casional visits, and it was noticed with
quiet smile by his friends that George
generally had pressing business in the
city at such times. After one of these
visits to San Francisco, Eva hadreturned
home suddenly, and on the following
day, while seated at the window reading
q city paper which her father had just
broug ght in, she fell shrieking from her
chair in q fit, from the effects of which
she never recovered, and died in few
days without having recovered con.
sciousness.


"The effect of her death upon Beale
was fearful. From being hale, rosy
checked young man he rapidly became
shattered, prematurely old one. He
would start when any one approached
L. L = lloLok ~
sleepless nights. From that time to the
present he has been gradually approach
ing his present state. For the first five
or six years his condition was simply
that of man given over to morbid
melancholy. Latterly he has become
violent at intervals and needs constant
watching. In his paroxysms he will
break up and destroy the furniture of
whatever room he may he in, and it has
become necessary to send him to the
asylum, where he will be properly cared
for.n


The romantic interest which attached
to the history of this poor fellow who
had become crazed through that love
for a woman which is, after all, the
handspring in every mans action in all
the walks of life, fingered in my memo
ry, and the next morning, upon taking
the train, l saw the sheriff enter the
express car, having in his care hag-
gard-looking man, whose wearied ex-
preston of countenance and sad half
vacant look awOke a sympathetic chord
in my breast. [ knew that | saw before
me the man of whom we had been talk
ing the night before. Being pretty well
known on the road, and having slight
acquaintance with the sheriff, l took an
early opportunity of entering the car
where the insane man was, and calling the
officer aside, asked the privilege of tax
ing a seat beside the man for time.
The official made some half:iocular
remark about "these reporters being
ready to interview anybody for an item,"
and gave his willing consent.


AS l sat down the man looked at me
for moment with queer look, and
his eye Frightening up and sad smile
stealing over his face as he caught sight
of my reporters badge, he said: care
you looking for something to put in
your paper?" Then without waiting
for a reply he said, ~ could tell you
strange story" But, he added, with a
sigh, "You wouldn't believe it, and it
wouldn't do him or her any good"
told him of my entire willingness
to listen to him, and suppose | showed
an unusual degree of curiosity or interest,
for he continued:


Do not think that l am not fully
aware of why am here, and where |
am going know both, and am entirely
satisfied, and as the doctors and the
judges have agreed that 1 am insane, l
am willing that they should think so.
They don't punish insane men for MUIR
der; do they?" and he turned his eyes
full upon me with look that made me
quail.


told him, certainly not, and tried to
tu1n the current of his thoughts, but in
vain. The thought of murder was up.
permost in his mind, and would not
down. At last I thougt it better to let
him talk as he would, expecting some
fauciful theory. Imagine then my sur
prise when he suddenly asked me, " Do
YOU remember the murder of Billy the
| Cabman?"


OF course, answered in the affrma-
tive. When he continued Yes, all
your fine policemen and your smart re-
porters never found out who did it."
Then seizing me by the arm with wise
like grip, he Kissed in my ear: Il did
it."


l began to be alarmed, but thinking
| it wiser to let him go on than to check
him, 1 sat still, more like one in dream
than wide awake and listening, while
he poured into my ear in language seeth-
ing with the fires of insanity, yet not
wholly obliterating the truth, the story
of that night of crime.