that occurred at the
lower mill, in this village, yesterday afternoon, by which a human
being, in the prime of life, was hurried to that bourne from which, as
the immortal Shakspeare says, 'no traveler returns.'"

"Du tell!" exclaimed Mrs. S.

"Mr. David Jones, a workman, who has but few superiors this side of the
city, was superintending one of the large drums--"

"I wonder if 'twas a brass drum, such as has 'Eblubust Unum' printed
on't," said Mrs. Slocum.

--"When he became entangled. His arm was drawn around the drum, and
finally his whole body was drawn over the shaft, at a fearful rate. When
his situation was discovered, he had revolved with immense velocity,
about fifteen minutes, his head and limbs striking a large beam a
distinct blow at each revolution."

"Poor creeter! how it must have hurt him!"

"When the machinery had been stopped, it was found that Mr. Jones's arms
and legs were macerated to a jelly."

"Well, didn't it kill him?" asked Mrs. S., with increasing interest.

"Portions of the dura mater, cerebrum, and cerebellum, in confused
masses, were scattered about the floor; in short, the gates of eternity
had opened upon him."

Here, Mr. Slocum paused to wipe his spectacles, and the wife seized the
opportunity to press the question.

"Was the man killed?"

"I don't know--haven't come to that place yet; you'll know when I've
finished the piece." And Mr. Slocum continued reading:

"It was evident, when the shapeless form was taken down, that it was no
longer tenanted by the immortal spirit--that the vital spark was
extinct."

"Was the man killed? that's what I want to come at," said Mrs. Slocum.

"Do have a little patience, old woman," said Mr. Slocum, eyeing his
better half, over his spectacles, "I presume we shall come upon it right
away." And he went on reading:

"This fatal casualty has cast a gloom over our village, and we trust
that it will prove a warning to all persons who are called upon to
regulate the powerful machinery of our mills."

"Now," said Mrs. Slocum, perceiving that the narration was ended, "now,
I should like to know whether the man was killed or not?"

Mr. Slocum looked puzzled. He scratched his head, scrutinized the
article he had been perusing, and took a graceful survey of the paper.

"I declare, wife," said he, "it's curious, but really the paper don't
say."

CAUGHT ON A JURY.

THE following, which we have heard told as a fact, some time ago, ma