"Ladies of the Jury, I appeal to you; _should_ such whiskers be hung?
True, he killed his wife; but, as you know, she was a horrid jealous
thing, and led her poor husband _such_ a life. In _my_ opinion, killing
was too good for her. Ladies, be merciful; the prisoner hangs upon your
lips. Consider his eyes; consider his nose. Were I married to a woman
who called me an unprincipled wretch, wouldn't I kill her? Wouldn't I?
Ladies, be generous." And so forth. (Jury retire, but return immediately
with a verdict of _Not Guilty_; Judge, Jury, Counsel, and all shed tears
and kiss indiscriminately. They take up a collection for the prisoner,
who, next day, marries the Forewoman of the Jury, out of gratitude.)
[Illustration: PRISONER.]
[Illustration: PRISONER'S COUNSEL.]
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE NEW PARASOL.
A PROSPECTIVE GLIMPSE OF THE PLEASURES OF PROMENADING WHEN THE PARASOL
SHALL HAVE ATTAINED TO A SIZE JUST A TRIFLE LARGER THAN IT NOW IS.]
* * * * *
A LETTER OF ADVICE.
STANDISH FOUR CORNERS, June --, 18--
EDITOR OF PUNCHINELLO:
SIR: I wish to call your attention to certain defects in the journal
conducted by you, and to make a few suggestions, which, if followed,
will greatly improve it.
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