Taft got changed on the day after the
murder. These facts, together with the footprints on the gravel soil,
enabled the prosecuting attorney to make out what seemed to both judge
and jury a very strong case. Indeed, there was but one person in the
court room that believed the prisoner innocent,--that was Tommy Taft
himself.

He admitted that he had had a dispute with his employer, but gave no
cause and that the latter had peremptorily dismissed him from further
service; that the bank-note was given to him that very same night, as
the full amount due him; that after the dispute, he could not go to bed;
that he bethought him, without disturbing anybody, to steal quietly down
stairs and to depart, unobserved, by way of the front door. He sturdily
denied that the footprints on the gravel soil were his. He firmly
declared his innocence, and that, while he felt that he could tell the
name of the murderer, he did not wish to do so, for the reason that he
had no proof to support his suspicion.

Tommy Taft died on the gallows. After the execution, people gathered to
discuss the event. They began to think, too, as people sometimes will
when they have condemned without thinking.

"That boy's pluckier than I'd a bin," murmured an old man, as he dragged
his weather-beaten body slowly through the crowd. "He wasn't a guilty,
Tommy Taft wasn't."

Nobody knew the speaker, and nobody cared for what he said.

* * * * *

THE MUSE OF HISTORY.

By Elizabeth Porter Gould.

Clio with her flickering light
And book of valued lore,
Comes down the ages dark and bright,
Our interest to implore.

She walks with glad, majestic mien,
Proud of her knowledge gained,
E'en while she mourns from having seen
Man's life so dulled and pained.

Her face with lines of care is wrought,
From searching mystery's cause,
And dealing with the hidden thought
Of nature's subtle laws.

Yet still she blushes with new life
In sight of actions fine,
And pales with anguish at the strife
Of evil's dread design.

She stops to sing her grandest lays
When, in creation's heat,
She sees evolved a higher phase
Of life's fruitions sweet.

'Twas thus in days of Genesis
When man came forth supreme;
'Twas thus in days of Nemesis
When Love did dare redeem.

And thus 'twill be in future days
When out from spirit-laws,
Shall be brought fort