THE FACTS CONCERNING THE RECENT CARNIVAL OF CRIME IN

CONNECTICUT

I was feeling blithe, almost jocund. I put a match to my cigar, and

just then the morning's mail was handed in. The first superscription I

glanced at was in a handwriting that sent a thrill of pleasure through

and through me. It was Aunt Mary's; and she was the person I loved and

honored most in all the world, outside of my own household. She had been

my boyhood's idol; maturity, which is fatal to so many enchantments,

had not been able to dislodge her from her pedestal; no, it had only

justified her right to be there, and placed her dethronement permanently

among the impossibilities. To show how strong her influence over me was,

I will observe that long after everybody else's "do-stop-smoking" had

ceased to affect me in the slightest degree, Aunt Mary could still stir

my torpid conscience into faint signs of life when she touched upon the

matter. But all things have their limit in this world. A happy day came

at last, when even Aunt Mary's words could no longer move me. I was

not merely glad to see that day arrive; I was more than glad--I was

grateful; for when its sun had set, the one alloy that was able to mar

my enjoyment of my aunt's society was gone. The remainder of her stay

with us that winter was in every way a delight. Of course she pleaded

with me just as earnestly as ever, after that blessed day, to quit my

pernicious habit, but to no purpose whatever; the moment she opened

the subject I at once became calmly, peacefully, contentedly

indifferent--absolutely, adamantinely indifferent. Consequently the

closing weeks of that memorable visit melted away as pleasantly as a

The Facts Concerning The Recent Carnival Of Crime In Connecticut