1896. 



THE AMKlllVA^ 



, . I:l'l:l!. 



29» 



THE GOOSE FEATHER. 



fAn AiiKTican Indian sonp;. ] 

 Blaok l:.l:c. i liicl: lal;.', 

 The wild {Tousp hiil \vitliin tho lirake. 

 Thi! string njion my lifiw fell lodse, 

 The arrow slipped and missed tbo goose. 



He heard niy step and flow away. 

 I f.iur.d o fi atiitr wiiere be lay. 

 Arrow thin, arrow thhi, 

 I struck the bhick goose feather in. 



Black lake, blaek lake, 

 A poose lies dead witliin thfi brake. , 

 This morn bis own black feather wliirred 

 And sped the Shalt that killed t!io Linl. 

 —Charles A Cnlbnann in Century. 



STOPPED IN TIME. 



At the time of which I am writiug 3 

 was liviug in .seclusion in a small town 

 about 35 miles north of Loudon. I wal 

 eugatrcd in rather a large literary un- 

 dertaking — in fact, I was writing a 

 novel. So engrossed was I with my 

 task that I luid no time to read even 

 the newspaper and was quite ignorant 

 of what was going on in tlie world. It 

 was a littie after 8 o'clock one evening 

 in April that I finished the second vol- 

 ume cf uiy work. I put on my hat and 

 coat and started oft' for an eveni)jg 

 Btroll. I had no sooner stepped into the 

 street than a boy accosted me with a 

 bundle of papers under his arm and the 

 request, "Buy an evening paper, sir?'' 

 I bought one, put it in my pocket and 

 resumed my walk. 



After my return I opened my paper 

 leisurely — nay, lazily. Presently m^' 

 eye wa.s caught with the following par- 

 agraph headfng, "Impending Execution 

 of the (Jljnfold Murderer. " 



There i.s a morbid fascination for 

 most people in an execution, and so, 

 yielding to this feeling, I proceeded to 

 read tbe paragraph: 



"The murderer of the unfortunate 

 James Reiiirew will be hanged tomor- 

 row morning at 8 o'clock. The wretched 

 man, who.>^e name — Charles Fenthurst 

 — is now in everybody's mouth, still 

 persists in his plea of innoctiice. " 



Here I became deeply interested. The 

 name of Fenthurstwas most familiar to 

 me. I inui formed a cifep friendship 

 with a man of that name. He was a 

 good 15 years my siMiior and had died 

 about two years previously. I knew he 

 had a son named Charles, a vottne fel- 



low who h;»(i (, aiigratort to fcioutn Atnco 

 early in life and Viiio was g'Micr.illy 

 suppo.sud to i e working at tlie diamond 

 mines. Could this be the same man? I 

 read on. 



"It V ill l.e remembered that at the 

 trial the strongest circumstantial evi- 

 dence was brought to b(-ar upon Fcnt- 

 burst. The murder took place in a hou'^e 

 on the outskirts of the small town of 

 Cliufold. It was proved that FiMithurst 

 was in the habit of frequenting Ren- 

 frew's premises and that apparently ho 

 was expected there on the evening in 

 question. He was seen near the place 

 soon after the crime was committed, 

 and !=;evera] other proofs of a strongly 

 condemnatory character were also laid 

 against him. He ha« persisted from the 

 first, however, in maintaining that ho 

 was absent iroxn Clinfoid at the very 

 time the murder took place. This was? 

 about 7 o'clock in the evening. At that 

 hour, he says, he was returning from 

 Loudon, where he had been spending 

 part of the day. Only one witness, he 

 says, could prove this, and that is an 

 individual who ti'aveled with him aa 

 far as P and entered into conversa- 

 tion with him. Advertisements have 

 been insertetl in all the papers by Feut- 

 hurst's legal advisers for the purpose of 

 discovering the individual in question, 

 but as no answer has been forthcoming 

 it is generally believed that the whole 

 story is a myth. At any rate, there 

 seems hut small chance of the alibi be- 

 ing proved at the last moment. The 

 murder was committed on Feb. 6. Since 

 his condemnation the murderer has been 

 confined in Silkmiuster jail, where the 

 execution will take place." 



Astonishment and dismay confronted 

 me as I laid the paper down. I was the 

 missing wit;iess they had so vainly 

 sought. I distinctly remembered, early 

 in February, running up to town ratheT 

 late in the afternoon, spending just half 

 an hour there", and re'turniug by the first 

 train I could catch. My lanellady didn't 

 even know hut that I had been for rat her 

 a longer wrJk than usual. I had entered 

 into conversation on the return journey 

 with tlie only otlier occupant of my 

 compartment, a young man with a small 

 black bag, on which were painted th.e 

 letters "C. F. " I remembereMl all this 

 distinctly. In order to make sure I 

 snatched up my diary and quickiy 



