THERE was a gentleman awaiting execution. The gentleman had killed his wife and four small children. He used a hatchet. The gentleman hid his wife's body in the hope chest. He stuffed the four children up the chimney. The poor little dears! Murder will out. The gentleman will be hanged. Mr. Van Hise the executioner had his face all fixed for the ceremony.

            So far so good. When, presto! The state changed its mind. The gibbet was substituted to the electric chair. Mr. Van Hise hastened to Trenton, N. J., where the Senate was in session. Mr. Van Hise, an eloquent speaker, spoke. The speaker spoke thus:

            All in vain! Wasted energy!

THE VAN HISE APPEAL
Before the New Jersey Legislature in an effort to prevent the adoption of the electric chair.

            Gentlemen, I feel certain that you all know me. I have grown grey in the service of the state. I am a faithful servant of justice, I am an artist of the noose, an artisan of the trap. And now there is a movement on foot to deprive me of my livelihood. Is it possible? Can the community be so ungrateful? Will they level all my hopes with one fell swoop? Am I dreaming? What more can I say, gentlemen? What more can I say? Have I not done my work faithfully? Have I ever made a mistake? And I might have saved more money. Only I wanted to be an ornament to the community. You all know what I have done lately, started a fund to supply poor cripples with better cork legs. Ah, your honour, I see you are stirred. I see everybody is stirred. See the judge nod his head. Oh good kind judge, it's so nice of you to nod your head. And more gentlemen, more. I have two sons, two worthy young men. They have assisted me in my work. They can drop off a guy almost as skilfully as I can. Stand up James, stand up William. There your honour. Behold those two young men, my offspring. They have assisted me in my work and have expected to follow in my footsteps when my honourable career shall have ended. Will you deprive them of their livelihood, will you crush all their hopes? And the people. Good kind appreciative people. You weep. I weep myself, and the Judge, even the stern staid Judge rubs his eyes. Don't let my art die, don't let the art of Ketch explode. Does your honour want to see the art of Ketch explode? Does anybody want to see the art of Ketch explode? I rest my case.

*          *          *          *          *

            The matter was then put to vote. The result was a unanimous decision in favour of the electric chair.

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