nd writing them up with aggravating circumstantiality. He
takes a living delight in this labor of love--for such it is to
him, especially if he knows that all the other papers have gone to
press, and his will be the only one that will contain the dreadful
intelligence. A feeling of regret has often come over me that I was
not reporting in Rome when Caesar was killed--reporting on an
evening paper, and the only one in the city, and getting at least
twelve hours ahead of the morning-paper boys with this most
magnificent "item" that ever fell to the lot of the craft. Other
events have happened as startling as this, but none that possessed
so peculiarly all the characteristics of the favorite "item" of the
present day, magnified into grandeur and sublimity by the high
rank, fame, and social and political standing of the actors in it.

However, as I was not permitted to report Caesar's assassination in
the regular way, it has at least afforded me rare satisfaction to
translate the following able account of it from the original Latin
of the _Roman Daily Evening Fasces_ of that date--second edition.

"Our usually quiet city of Rome was thrown into a state of wild
excitement yesterday by the occurrence of one of those bloody
affrays which sicken the heart and fill the soul with fear, while
they inspire all thinking men with forebodings for the future of
a city where human life is held so cheaply, and the gravest laws
are so openly set at defiance. As the result of that affray, it
is our painful duty, as public journalists, to record the death
of one of our most esteemed citizens--a man whose name is known
wherever this paper circulates, and whose fame it has been our
pleasure and our privilege to extend, and also to protect from
the tongue of slander and falsehood, to the best of our poor
ability. We refer to Mr. J. Caesar, the Emperor-elect.

"The facts of the case, as nearly as our reporter could
determine them from the conflicting statements of eyewitnesses,
were about as follows:--The affair was an election row, of
course. Nine-tenths of the ghastly butcheries that disgrace the
city nowadays grow out of the bickerings and jealousies and
animosities engendered by these accursed elections. Rome would be
the gainer by it if her very constables were elected to serve a
century; for in our experience we have never even been able to
choose a dog-pelter without celebrating the event with