He has presented his only other jewellery--an oroide ring, set with
Bristol diamonds--to the Warder who has been most attentive and
devoted to him during his stay in gaol. He is said to have stated
that he freely forgave the infant whose insulting conduct provoked
his outburst, as he did the nursemaid for not restraining her charge's
vivacity. This intimation, at his express desire, will be conveyed
to the parents of the deceased, and will doubtless afford them the
highest consolation.

_Thursday Night, Later_.--LARRIKIN is sleeping peacefully. His
features--refined by the mental anxiety, and the almost monastic
seclusion to which he has been lately subjected--are extremely
pleasing, and even handsome, set-off as they are by the clean collar
which he has put on in anticipation of his approaching doom. Before
sinking into childlike slumber, he listened with evident pleasure to a
banjo which was being played outside a public-house in the vicinity of
the gaol. The banjoist is now being interviewed, and believes that the
air he must have been performing at the time was "_The Lost Chord_."
The scaffold on which the unfortunate LARRIKIN is to expiate his
imprudent act is now being erected, but the workmen's hammers
have been considerately covered with felt to avoid disturbing the
slumberer.

_Friday Morning_, 9 A.M.--All is now over. The prisoner rose early
and made a hearty breakfast, and plainly enjoyed the cigar which he
smoked afterwards with his friend the Governor, who seemed to regard
the entrance of the executioner as an untimely interruption to the
conversation. "You'll have to wait a bit for the rest of that story,
Governor," was LARRIKIN's light-hearted comment. The unhappy man
then--(_Details follow which we prefer to leave to the reader's