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One day in J anuary, when I drove up with my mail at Danbury, the postmaster called. me into his oflice, I :nswered that I should do so, and then took the bag under my arm and left the ofiice. I stowed the mail away under my seat a little more carefully than usual, placing it so I could keep my feet against it, but beyond that I did not feel any concern. It was past one when we started, and I had four passengers, two of them rode only to my first stopping-place. I reached Gowan’s mills at dark, when we stopped for supper, and Where my other two passengers concluded to stop for the night. _ chmbout six o’clock in the evening I left Gowan’s Mius alone, having two horses and ‘ BMW: _ _. u A ~ . 1 -_ .. ‘iIe said the agent had described one of them as a. short. thick-set fellow, about 40 years of age, with long hair, and a thick, heavy clump of beard under his chin, but none on the side of his face. I did not know arything about the other. I told him I guessed there wasn’t much dan- gar. 0 “Oh, no, not if you have got passengers 2.11 the way through; but I only told you this so that you might look out for your mail, and also look out sharp when you change horses.” .Y. ... ... II had 17' miles to go, and a. hard 17 it was, too. The night was quite clear, but the wind was sharp and cold, the loose snow flying in every direction, While the drifts were deep and closely packed. It was slow tedious work, and my horses soon became leg-weary and restive. At the distance of six miles I came to a little settlement called Bull’s Corner, where I took fresh horses. I’d been two hours going that distance. As I going to start,a man came up and asked if I was going through to Littleton. I told him I should go through if the thing could possibly be done. He said he was anxious to go, and as he had no baggage I told him to jump in, and make himself as com- fortable as possible. I was gathering up my lines when the hustler came up and asked me if I knew that one of my horses had cut himself badly. I jumped out and found that one of the animals had got a deep cork cut on the ofi foot. I gave such directions as I considered necessary, and was about to turn when the hostler remark- ed that he thought I came alone. I told him I; did. “Pete.” said he, with an important seri- ous look, “ there’s some pretty heavy money packages in that bag," and he pointed to it as he spoke. He said the money was from Boston to some land agents near the Canada line. Then he asked meif I had an pas- sengers who were gain through to Male- ton. I tola him I di no: know. “ Bub suppose I have not ?" says I. “ Then where did you get the passenger ‘2” said he. “ He just got in,” I answered. “ Got in from where ‘2” “ I don’t know." “\Vell, now,” said the hostler. “ that's kind of curious. There ain’t been no such man at the house, and I know there ain’t been none at any of {he neighbors?“ Fourteen years ago I drove from Danhury to Littleton, a. distance of 42 miles, and as I had to await the arrival of two or three coaches, and I did not start until after din- ner, I very often had a. good distance to drive after dark, It was in the dead of night. A great deal of snow had fallen and the drifts were plenty and deep. The mail I carried was not due at Littleton by contract until one o’clock in the morning, but that winter the postmaster was obliged to sit up a. little later than that hour for “ Why,” said he, “the agent of the lower route came in to-dsy, and he said that there were two suspicious characters on the stage that came'in last night, and he suspects that they have an eye on this mail, so it will stand you in hand to be a: little careful this even- “Let’s have a look at his face,” said I. “We can et that much, at any rate. Do you go bac with me, and when I get into the pung, just hold your lantern so that the 1ith vgil} shine into ‘his face.” 7. ‘~. ._°~_ ,7, He did as I wished, and as I stepped into the pung I got a fair view of such portions of my passenger’s face as were not muffled up. I saw a short, thick frame, full, hard fieatures, and I could almost see that there was a heavy beard under the chin. I thought of the man whom the postmaster had described to me; but I did not think seriously upon‘it until I had started. Per- haps I had gone half a. mile when I no- ticed the mail-bag wasn’t in the place under my feet; vunc u “J“Hello 1” says I, holding up‘my horses 8. little, “ where’s my mail 2” .Ilhuc, "note a m] mm. .‘ My passenger sat on a seat behind me, and I turned towards him. This took me all of 15 minutes, and when I got in again I pulled the mail-bag forward and got my feet upon it. As I was doing this I saw the man taking something from his lap, beneath the buffalo, and put it into his breast pocket. This I thought was a. pistol. I had caught a gleam of a. barrel in the starlight, and when I had time to reflect I knew I could not be mistaken. "â€"‘7 fiéié’s a bag of some kind that slip- ed back under 111 feet,” he and, giving It a. kick, as thong he would shove it for- ward. Just at this moment my horses lumbered into a deep snow-drift, and I was forced to get out and tread down the snow in front of them, and‘lead them through it. u puv,,,-,,, "17L," About this time I began to think some- what seriously. From what I had heard and seen, I soon made up my mind that the individual behind me not only wanted to rob me of my mail, but was prepared to rob me of my life. If I resisted him he would shoot me, and perhaps he meant to perform that delectable operation at any rate. While I was pondering, the horses plunged into another snow-drift, and I was again forced to get out and tread down the snow before them. I asked my passenger if he wouldn’t help me, but he didn’t feel very well, and wouldn’t try, so I worked all alone, and was all of a quarter of an hour getting my teani through the drifts: When I got into the sleigh again, I be- gan to feel for the mail-bag with my feet. I found it where I had left it, but when I attempted to withdraw my foot I die- THE MAIL ROBBER. A Stage-Driver’s Story. Here was a discovery. I began to wish I had taken a little more forethought be- fore leaving Dmbury ; but as I knew making such wishes was only a. waste of time, I quickly gave it up, and began to consider what I had better do under ex- isting circumstances. I wasn’t long in mak- ing up my mind upon afew essential poin1s. First, the man behind me was a. villain; second. he had cut open the mail-bag and robbed it some valuable matterâ€"he must have known the money-letters by their size and shape; third, he meant to leave the stage on the first opportunity; and fourth- ly, he was prepared to shoot me if I at- tempted to arrest or detain him. As we approached the cot I saw a light in the front room, as I felt confident I should. for the old man generally sat up until the stage went by. I drove on, and when near‘ 1y opposite the dwelling, stood up, as I had frequently done when approaching difficult places. I saw the snow bank ahead, and could distinguish the deep cut which had been shovelled through it. I urged my horses to a. good speed, and when near the bank forced them into it. One of the run- ners mounted the edge of the bank, after which the other ran into the cut, thus throwing the sleigh over about as quick as though lightning had struck it. My passen- senger had not calculated on any such move- ment, and wasn’t prepared for it ; but I had calculated, and was prepared. He rolled out; in the deep snow with a heavy bufl‘alo robe about him, while I alighted directly on the top of him. I punched his head in the snow and sung out for old Longee. I did not have to call a second time, for the farmer had come to the window to see me pass, and as soon as he saw my sleigh overturned, he had lighted his lantern and hurried out. “ What’s to pay '2" asked the old man, as heffime ‘up. ‘ As I spoke I partially loosened my hold upon the villain’s throat, and he drew a pis- tol from his bosom; but I saw it In good season and jammed his head into the snow again, and I got it awayfrom hjm.’ covered it had become fast in something-â€" I thougbt It was the buffalo, and I tuned to kick it ciear; but the more I kicked the more closely it held. I reached down my hand, and after feeling aboutafew mo- ments, I found that my foot was in the mail-bag. I felt again and found my hand in among the packages of letters and pa- pers. I ran my fingers over the edges of the opening, and became assurei fihat the stout leather had been cut with a. knife.- 1 revolved these things In my mind, and pretty soon thought of a. course to pursue. I knew that to get my hands safely upon the rascal I must take him unawares, and this I could not do while he was behind me, for his eyes were upon me all the time, so I must resort to stratagem. Only a little dis- tance ahead was a house, and an old farmer named Longee llved there ; and directly be- fore it a huge snowbauk stretched across the road, through which a. track had been clear- ed with shovels. “ Lead the horses into the track, and then come Elem]: I gaid. ‘ n By this tiFne Longeé had led the horses out and came back, and I explained the matter to him in as few words as possible. We hauled the rascal out into the road, and, upon examination, we found about 20 packages of letters which he had stolen from the mail-bag and stowed away in his pock- ets. He swore, threatened, and prayed, but we paid no attention to his blarney. Longee got some stout cord, and when he had ne- curely bound the villain we tumbled him in- to the pung, I then asked the old man if he would accompany me into Littleton, and he said, “ Of course I will.” So hé got his overcoat and muffler, and erg longAwe_ sfiarted_on._ I reached the end of my route with my mail all safe, though not as snug as it might have been, and my mail-bags a little the worse for the trick that had been played up- on them. However, the mail-robber was secure, and within a week he was identified by some officer from Concord as an old of- fender, and I am rather inclined to the opin- ion that he is in the state prison at the pre- sent time. At any rate he was there the last time I heard of him. That is the only time I ever had any mail trouble, and I think that, under all the cir- cumstances, I came out pretty well. The elephant of our childhood no longer exists. Like behemoth and leviathan and other mythical creatures in whom we once implicitly believed, he has been proved to be a figment of the Oriental imagination. The authority upon which we make this un- welcome announcement is no other than Mr. Sanderson, who has for many years filled the post of superintendent of elephants to the government of India, and who stands in the same relation to these animals that Sir Joseph Fayres occupies to tigers and venomous snakes. In a lecture recently delivered to the United States institution at Simla, he roundly calls the elephant “ posi- tively idiotic in its attempts at escape when captured,” and talks of “its want of origi- nality and its positive stupidity in many things.” In short, “in the faculty of res- soning it is far below the dog and other ani- mals.” Nor will Mr. Sanderson allow the estimates of its great height. Out of many hundreds he has measured in southern India. and Bengal, he has not found one reaching ten feet at the shoulder. Yet one disillu- sion more. The elephant hunters in both Ceylon and India corroborate Sinbad's story that elephants, when they feel the approach of death, retire to a solitary and inaccessi- ble valley and there die in peace. But Mr. Sanderson, though he admits that no living man has come across the corpse of a wild elephant that has died a natural death, at- tributes this rather to their extreme lon - evity, which he is disposed to place as big as two hundred years. This explanation, however, seems to us to violate that rule of scientific hypothesis which requires that the cause should be adequate to account for the result. IN a deaf mutes‘ convention at Boston there was a pantomimic row over the charge of their President that soliciting agents had kept back 40 per cent. of $4,500 collected for a proposed home. The scene was a strange oneâ€"400 persons earnestly and excitedly gestnleting at each other without an audible word. [From the Pall Mall GazetteJ The Elephant Myth. EXTRACTS FROM A ESPEECH DELIVERED BY CHARLES S. FREEMAN TO THE ANNUAL MEETING OF THE. NEW YORK PRESS AS- SOCIATION AT TROY. Editors are born, not made. You cannot grind them up in heaps as you can do doc- tors, or lawyers. or clergymen. There is no college where they are taught. There is no curriculum for them to study. There are no professors of newspapers. There are no diplomas and there are no degrees for an editor. Perhaps I should say that none of the ordinary schools in which other profes~ sier’ are taught, answer for the newspa. J' The best school is the printing office. ,est teacher is the click of the type, andshe atmosplp re of the composing-room. The tact of an editor cannot be taught in an academy. There are no books or masters to follow. Like the artist the editor must have genius, and genius is not borrowed or taught. But though you cannot teach edi- tors in schools or academies, you can teach boys. And after you have taught the boy at school, you can teach the editor in a. printing-office. But be careful not to insert him at the wrong end of the shop. Start him down among the rollers and the lye- brushes and he will work his way to the sanctum. When he gets there he will know how to stay there. But if you start him at the sanctum, the probabilities are that he will soon find himself in the cellar. It is one of the evils of our times that, not only in regard to this, but equally with regard to all trades and professions, the young men are unwilling to begin at the bottom. The grades of a printing-office should be as inex- orable as the grades of an army. There should be no removal except for cause, and no promotion except for merit. The history of the newspaper press proves the positionI here take. The best, the ablest, the most successful editors this land has produced came up from the rule and composing stick. I have known scores of tramping jour printers who had every qualification for brilliant success in journalism except the one of steady habits; men of wide learn- ing, sparkling genius, and commanding in- tellect. And I never yet saw a strictly educated man who was fit for an editor. They are two starchy and stiff. They are too nice and precise. They are too learned and profound. A profound newspaper would die in a week. Two things are cer- tainly and equally fatal to a newspaper, ignorance and profundity. But I think of the two it can stand ignorance the better, for there are a great many people who are ignorant, and very few who are profound. Daniel Webster undertook to write an edi- torial for a newspaper. It was seven col- umns long and solid with statesmanship and wisdom. But the editor advised him to de- liver it in Congress and let the newspaper off. It sometimes happens that a school- master out of a job, or ambitious of fame, seeks laurels and cash in the editorial sanc- tum. These are the worst failures in the whole lot. They invariably run on their tongues when they write, use ruled paper, dot all their i’s, cross all their t’s, and parse every sentence before it goes to press. They are designed to succeed better on monthly or quarterly publications, or those which come out once a year, than on the daily press. If anything is calculated to worry the patience of an editor, it is to see a schoolmaster laboring over a paragraph. The erasures and interlineations, the stop- ping and staring. the tearings up and be- ginnings again, the consultations of the dictionary, the wise look at the wall, the doubt about grammar, and the great doubt about ideas, are frightful to behold. I state an exact truth when I say that I have seen some of these gentlemen spend two precious hours in trying to put a simple statement in a paragraph of ten lines, and fail. A sur- .plus of grammar kills them. And yet the editor must not fail in grammar. His sen- tences must be clear cut, precise, and per- fect. But he must do it without exertion, and with the same case and freedom that he would engage in conversation. This faculty he gets when he goes through the grades. He cannot bring it with him from any other profession. There are possible exceptions, but they are rare, exceedingly rare, and only prove the rule. The shoe- maker had better stick to his last, the schoolmaster to his school, and the editor to his sanctum. No man can be an editor who does not understand all the details of his business. He must be competent to fill any gap, in any place, at any moment. He must know how to do all that is need- ed to be done on a newspaper. He must be able to write a leader or a paragraph at a moment’s notice, or without any notice at all. He must be a man of quick percep- tion, of prompt decision and force of char- aeter. He must be a leader. He must command the ship. The editor of “Science ” discusses at length the value of the different articles of food which generally enter into daily con- sumption. “Chocolate,” he says, “ from its large proportion of albumen, is the most nu- tritive beverage, but at the same time, from its quantity of fat, the most difficult to di- gest. Its aromatic substances, however, strengthen the digestion. A cup of choco- late is an excellent restorative and invigo- rating refreshment even for weak persons, rovided their digestive organs are not too delicate. Cardinal Richelieu attributed to chocolate his health and hilarity during his later years. Tea and coffee do not af- ford this advantage. Albumen in tea leaves, and legumin in coifee berries are re- presented in very scanty proportions. The praise of tea and coffee as nutritive sub- stances is, therefore, hardly warranted. Tea and coffee, though of themselves not difficult of digestion, tend to disturb the digestion of bituminous substances by preci itating them from their dissolved state. Mi k, therefore, if mixed with t tea or coflee, is more difli- cult of digestion than if taken alone, and coffee alone without cream promotes diges' tion after dinner by increasing the secretion ot the dissolving juices. The volatile oil of coffee and the empyreumatic and aromatic matters of chocolate accelerate the circula- tion, which, on the other hand, is calmed by tea. Tea and coffee both excite the ac- tivity of the brain and nerves. Tea, it is said, increases the power of digesting the impressions we have received, creates a tho- rough meditation, aud, in spite of the move. What Shall We Eat ? Editors. ments of thoughts, permits the attention to be fixed 11 on a certain subject. 0n the other hanci: if tea. is taken in excess, it causes an increased irritability (f the nerves. characterized by sleeplessness, with a gen- eral feeling of restlessness and trembling of the limbs. Coffee, also, if taken in excess, produces sleeplessness and many baneful effects very similar to those arising from tea drinking. Coffee, however, produces a. greater excitement and a. sensation of rest- lessness and heat ensues. For throwing off this condition fresh air is the best anti- dote." The South American correspondent of the London Times introduces a long letter on the circumnavigation of South America by the following: “ The 23rd of April, 1839. will be forever memorable in the annals of New York. On that day I had taken my passage on board the St. James, one of the last sail- ing vessels of the Transatlantic Mail Line, which was to convey me to England, start- ing on May-day. On that same 23rd of April, at about 9 o’clock in the morning, I became aware of a more than usual stir and clamor under my hotel windows in Broad- way. I Went out and moved along with the crowd for some time before I could make out anything about the cause of the commo- tion. ‘ Here she is l’ ‘ In the East River.’ ‘ Just anchored,’ were the cries, and the multitude set off like a great tide in the di- rection of the Battery. What was it? It was the Siriusâ€"the first steamer that had accomplished the voyage across the Atlan- tic, and thus reduced the distance between the British and North American coasts at least two-thirds. The rejoicing in the city was loud and hearty, as one may imagine. Still, the first tumult of exultation abated towards 1 o'clock in the afternoon, when, for a considerable part of the population, it was in those days dinner-time. But later in the day, towards 4 or 5, the uproar rose again louder than ever, and the rush to the land- ing-places was even more tumultuous, while the cry, ‘ The steamer! the steamer l’ was bandied about at every street-crossing. It was again a steamer. from Europeâ€"the Great Westernâ€"which, leaving Liverpool four days later than the date on which the Sirius had started from her Irish harbor, had also come to her anchorage ofi' Staten Island within a few hours of her rival. A more momentous achievement, and one more auspicious for the intercourse between the O‘d and the New \Vorld had never before been recorded,nor has it since been equalled in importance even by the laying of the transatlantic telegraph cable, nor can 1t be surpassed in magnitude unless a uspension bridge be thrown athwart the ocean from shore to shore.” The young ladies of Ire‘and ought to be very grateful to Dr. Corbet, the member for VVicklow, for the anxiety which he displays on their behalf. On Friday night he gave notice that on Monday he would ask the chief secretary if his attention had beer; 0 illed to the marked decrease in the number of marriages in Ireland during the year 1879, as shown by the “ statistical abstract for the United Kingdom in each of the last fifteen years.” It appears that the number of mar- riages has fallen to 23,313, or below the av- erage of the twelve preceding years by 3,596, being 149 less than the total for Scotland, where the population is below that of Ireland by 1,702,298. Mr. Corbet, with all the gal- lantry of his race, is naturally perturbed in his mind at the fearful state of things which these figures show. He cannot understand how the hitherto amoronsly inclined Hiber- nian has been outdone by the calculating Scot, and therefore he demands form Mr. Forster an explanation of the phenomenon. What precise course the member for Wick- low would have the government adopt in or- der to encourage matrimony it is hard to see. Perhaps a. short act on the line of the disturbance bill to grant compensa- tion to maidens tor the disturbance of their feelings consequent on dilatoriness of their suitors, might meet the views of the home member. Young men who have at- tained the age of five-and-thirty without being married might be scheduled and made liable to pay compensation to any young lady who could prove before a competent tribunal that she had not had a “ reasonable proposa ” made to her. An enactment such as this would, no doubt, aflect the marriage market, but it wonld be too bad if any of Mr. Corbet’s fair constituents in Wicklow were the first to avail themselves of the benefit of the act by proceeding against the honorable member himself. A knight of the olden time in full armor was probably as safe from the effects of a thunder-storm as if he had a lightning rod continually beside him ; and one of the R0- man Emperors devised a perfectly secure re- treat in athundebstorm in the form of a subterranean vault of iron. He was proba- bly led to this by thinking of a. mode of keeping out missiles, having no notion that a thin shell of soft copper would have been quite as effective as massive iron. But those Emperors who, as Suetonius tells us, were laurel crowns or seal-skin robes, or descended into underground caves or cellars on the appearance of a. thunder-storm, were not protected at all. Even in France, where special attention is paid to the protection of buildings from lightning, dangerous acci- dents have occurred where all proper pre- cautions seemed to have been taken. But, on more careful examination, it was usually found that some one essential element was wanting. The most common danger seems to lie in fancying that a lightning-rod is necessarily properly connected with the earth if it dips into a mass of water. Far from it. A well-constructed reservoir full of water is not a good “ earth " for a light- ning-rod. The better the stone-work and cement the less are they fitted for this spe- cial purpose, and great mischief has been done by forgetting this. AN old English miser named Rhodes, who began making money as a rubbish gatherer, and lived and died in squalor, has bequeathed $300,000 between the Royal Free Hospital, London, and the National Lifeboat, Institution, leaving his relations enniless. The will stands, but the charities ave given the five next of kin $5,250. Protection from Lightning. The First Ocean Steamer. Matrimony in Ireland. In Ireland the parish constables disap- peared in the reign of George III., and were replaced by constables appointed by the justices, sixteen being appointed for each harony and Protestantism being a necessary qualification. In the time of William IV. these were in turn swept away, and the Irish constabulary force was raised. By this act the independent appointment of constables by county Justices was put an end to, and all candidates were appointed through provincial depots. With the differ- ence that the provincial depots were soon after concentrated in one central depot in Dublin, that regulation remains in force up to the present time. The candidate for the Irish constabulary must be over five feet nine inches high, and between the ages 0t 21 and 23. He must be recommended by a magistrate or an officer of constabulary, who is supposed to vouch for his character. He is then examined by the county inspec- tor in reading, writing from dictation, and the elementary rules of arithmetic, and his papers are sent to the commandant of the depot in Phoenix park. If he has made no mistake and his writing is satisfactory, he is entered among the candidates of the first- class. If he makes even one mistake he takes his place With the second, and as the list of first-class candidates must be ex- hausted before the candidates from the sec- ond-class are called up for medical examina- tion, and there are generally over five hun- dred names on the list, the man who is not perfect in his examination has very little- chance of becoming a sub-constable. In the meantime in uiry has been made into the character and position of the family of the successful candidate, and if that is satisfac- tory he is in due course called up to Dublin, where, having undergone a medical exami- nation, he is taken on the strength of the depot and begins his police training. His life in the depot, so far as his drill is con- cerned, is exactly the same as the life of a recruit with his regiment for the first six months. in which time he has generally one through the three squads and been (in led in the battalion, besides going through- a course of musketry. Every day he is obliged to attend school for an hour, how- ever proficient he may have been found when he offered to join the force ; moreover. three times a week he has to attend a school for a couple of hours, Where instruction is given to him in his po- lice duties. His powers under various statutes are explained to him by the detec~ tive instructor, and he is taught the proper mode of action in the prevention or detec- tion of particular crimes. He therefore joins whatever county force be may be ap- pointed to with a better preparatory train. mg than that of any other police in the Worid. He may be sent to any part of Ire- land except his native county, in which he can never serve. But he frequently applies to be quartered in an adjacent county, and his request is never refused. Arrived at his station he is paraded with the other men each morning, the constable inspecting his arms and appointments. The whole arty are then interrogated as to their know edge of the descriptions 9f criminals in the are asked as to their general dutieg.“ «33E‘ out of the depot the men receive no instruc- tion in drill, except when an opportunity, offers by a number being brought together at fairs and so forth. In the daytime, when on duty, the Irish policeman carries no wea- pon but his staff, eXcept in a few districts, where men armed with staves alone would not be safe. Here they carry their short swords. Two men are sent together on every duty. This arrangement is necessary for the safety of the men and for corrobora- tion of evidence. For it must be remember- ed that while in England a constable has the people at his back, in Ireland it is quite different, and unfortunately any amount of evidence necessary for the contradiction of one policeman would be readily forthcom- ing. At night the constables are armed with rifles and swords. Without these arms they would be about as effective for the prevention of outrages as a body of cripples, and Without their drill they would be at best an armed mob. Even with their discipline, their steadiness and courage, they sometimes find an Irish mob whose passions are roused very dangerous to them. Long before the revolver came in as a com- mon weapon, a party of thirty-six armed policemen were killed to a man at Garrick- shock by a crowd to whom they refused to deliver up a tithe proctor. The nationalists are right in attacking the armament of the olice. Had they not been armed and drilled“ in 1867, with the splendid discipline which enabled parties of five men to beat OR the attacks of thousands u on the iso‘ lated cabins that are dignified y the name of barracks, the Fenians would have had a. “ Hue and CPY,” and every (hiding are agkgd a_a to their general duties." different story to tell and England would have spent millions upon the military sup- glression of a. widely planned rebellion. ad they not been armed and disciplined in the late process-serving campaign, where in places they found themselves confronted by thousands of angry armed men with pitchforks and scythes, the west of Ireland would be at this moment in confusion, to say the least. Few knew how nearly there was a. bloody engaeement when in Conne- mara fifty constables marched into a. circular hollow filled with two thousand furious pea.- sants to protect a bailifi‘ in posting a. notice on the door of a house in the centre. Had not the flanking detachments of constabu- lar charged the crowds with the bayonet an taken possession of the hills command- ing the little glen, the fifty men would never have left the spot. The Irish constabulary could be concentrated in twelve battalion in twenty-four hours. ‘ COURT scene 2 “ What’s gone of your hus- band, woman?” “V’Vhat’s gone of him, yer honor? Faith, and he's gone dead.” “ Ah ! ray, what did he die of '2” “Die of, yer onor! He died of a Frida .” “I don’t mean what day of the week, gut what com- plaint ‘2” “‘ Faith, and it’s himself that did not get time to com lain.” “Oh, ayâ€"he died suddenly ?” “ other that way, yet honor.” “Did he fall in a. fit?” No an- swer. “He fell down in a fit, perhaps 2” “Why, no; not exactly a fit, yer honor. He fell out of a. window, or through a cel- lar doorâ€"I don’t know what they call it.” “ 0h, ayâ€"and broke his neck ‘l” “ No, not quite that, yer worship.” "What then?” “There was a bit of sthring, or cord, or that like, and it throttled poor Mike." " Quite likely. Call the next case.” The Irish Constabulary.