breakfast his tripe didn't suit him, and he immediately brained his wife
and children and set the house on fire, varying the monotony of the
scene by pitching his mother-in-law down the well, having previously,
with great consideration, touched her heart with a cheese knife.

I will now quote my friends' own words:

"He was pronounced a hard case, manifesting no sorrow for his act, and
utterly indifferent to his approaching doom. A score of good people had
visited him with the kindest intentions, but without making the smallest
impression upon him.

"Without boasting, I wish to say that I knew I could touch this man's
heart. I saw a play once in which the most blood-thirsty and brutal
ruffian that ever existed was melted to tears at the mention of his
mother's name, and childhood's happy hours, and everybody knows that
what happens on the stage happens just the same in real life.

"I naturally congratulated myself on having seen this play, for it gave
me power to cope with this relentless disposition.

"He resisted all attempts at conversation, however, in the most dogged
manner, barely returning surly monosyllables to my anxious wishes for
his well being.

"At last, laying my hand on his shoulder, and throwing considerable
pathos into my voice, I said:

"My friend, it was not always thus with you. There was a time when you
sat upon your mother's knee, and gathered buttercups and daisies?"