ard, not one word did I hear about the man that
caused the murder, about the voters and upholders of that man, about the
Goverment that wuz in partnership with that man and went shares with
him, and for the sake of a few cents had dealt out that agony, that
shame, and that criminality.

[Illustration: Not one word did I hear about the Goverment that wuz
in partnership with that man.]

Wall, the little coffin wuz closed at last, the mother wuz carried
faintin', and lookin' like a dead woman, back to her empty, darkened
home. The father, with a face like white marble, curbin' down his own
agonized grief so's to take care of her, and try to bring her back to
the world agin, so they could together face its blackness and emptiness.

And the crowd dispersed, lookin' forward to the excitement of the
hangin'.

And the saloon-keeper went home and mebby counted over the few cents
that accrued to him out of the hull enterprise.

And the wise male voters returned, a-calculatin' (mebby) on votin' for
license so's to improve the condition of their towns.

And Uncle Sam, poor, childish old creeter, mebby wrote down aginst this
hull job--"three cents revenue." And mebby he rattled them cents round
in his old pockets. I don't know what he did; I hain't no idee what he
won't take it into his old head to do.

And the prisoner sot in his dark, cold cell, and didn't appreciate,
mebby, the wisdom of the wise law-makers increasin' our revenues by such
means.

No; he had all he could do to set and look at the bare stun walls, and
figger out this sum--on one side the three cents profit; and substract
from it--a bright young life ended, lifelong agony to the hearts that
loved her.

His own old mother's and sister's heads and hearts bowed down in shame
and sorrow.

His own hopeful life cut short at the edge of the scaffold, and for the
future--what?

He couldn't quite work that out, for this text kep comin' into his
sum--"No drunkard shall inherit eternal life."

And then another text kep a-comin' up--

"Cursed is he that putteth the cup to his neighbor's lips."

No, he didn't feel the triumphant wisdom of the licker traffic. He
wouldn't feel like rattlin' the three cents round in his pockets if he
had 'em, but he didn't have 'em. His sum, no matter how many times he
figgered it out, stood nothin' but orts, nothin' but clear loss to him,
here and hereafter.

Wall, I have rode off considerable of a ways with my wagon hitched on