A COLLECTION OF ANAGRAMS.

Evening Post, Volume XXXIV, Issue 2, 2 July 1887, Page 2 (Supplement)

A COLLECTION OF ANAGRAMS.

The following anagrams are ingenious, and form good specimens of these curiosities of literature :—: — Sweetheart . .There we sat. Midshipman . . Mind his map. French Revolution Violence run mad Penitentiary . . Nay, I repent it. Parliament . .Partial men. Florence Nightin- Flit on, cheering gale angel Masquerade . . Queer as mad. Presbyterian .. Best in prayer. Revolution . .Love to ruin. Impatient . .Tim in a pet. Parishioners ..1 hire parsons. Paradise lost . .Reap sad toils. Catalogues . . Got as a clue. Punishment . .Nine thumps. Old England . . Golden land. Lawyers . . Sly ware. Paradise regained Dead respire again Astronomers . . Moonstarers. Telegraph . . Great help. Gallantries . . All great sin. Democratical . . Comical trade. SELF-CONFESSION. A STORY OF CRIME ASTD TORTURE. A well-known opera is traced on tragical events which occurred in France nearly 170 years ago. The facts are thus condensed from the Court records by a Paris paper : — At the beginning of laßt century there was seen in the town of Lille a very quiet house. It was a large building, but it contained only a Bmall family — a husband and wife, and only one servant. The married couple were advanced in years, lived quietly on their income, saw very few visitors, and admitted none to the house, except the people who furnished them with provisions, or otherwise administered to their wants. One night this couple, man and wife, were both robbed and murdered in their bed. The servant girl had heard nothing of all this, and knew not what was going on. The night was hot, the air dense and oppressively sultry, so much so that she had taken refuge in her room, and, for coolness sake, divested herself of her garments before a large mirror. While there, catching sight of herself, she suddenly cried, " How hateful one looks when undressed !" Having said this, she retired and slept till morning, and arose as usual without suspecting what had happened. She prepared breakfast, as usual, for her master and mistress, but they did not come down. She was amazed and waited for some time. They did not appear. Tired of waiting she sought their room. A horrible sight met her eyes. Blood was smeared everywhere, and on the bed lay the poor old couple, cruelly, horribly, vilely butchered. — mangled only as a beast or fiend could find it in his heart to mutilate victims after murdering them. The girl raised an alarm and the multitude came rushing in. Of course Justice came rushing after in the shape of the police, with a judicial investigation. The criminal was sought for, and, as none other could be found, suspicion fell on the unfortunate servant. In those days they had a horrible way of trying to get the truth. They called it questioning. The questions were put with racks and thumb-screws. The Litlois servant-maid was infamously tortured, even to extreme agony. Yet, notwithstanding her weakness and her sex, she endured the infernal torture without confessing. As there were no proofs of her having done anything they finally let her go as soon as she was healed. Unfortunately the torture had" made her a wretched cripple. She could only hobble along, and her arms were terribly wit ered. And being no longer able to sew or work she dragged her helpless form along the streets of Lille for 16 years. This is historicrlly true — nay, more than historically, for history often lies, while these accounts are from the dry and accurate records of a court. The worst part of her sufferings was that many people believed her guilty, and shunned her accordingly. It appears from the record that during these long years, while she went about with her withered arms and bent back her whole frame suffering from the torture, begging a sou to buy her bread, that she was always resigned, mild, and exemplary in her conduct. One day, after 16 years of misery, she stopped at the door of a baker. She held out through her rags her naked and mutilated arm toward the baker, who stood at his door-sill. As she did so he exclaimed, in a mocking tone, while observing her garments, " Well, Marie, how hateful one looks when undressed — ha ! ha ! " Now it is remarkable that in all the 16 years which had passed Marie had not forgotten those words which she had spoken when alone on the night of the murder. It flashed upon her mind that the real murderer might have heard them, and that he stood before her. In brief, the baker, when arrested, confessed the truth. He had regularly supplied the old couple, and knew the ways of the house. He was hidden there on the night of" the murder, and heard the girl when she made the remark. And as the criminal is often by the will of Providence his own accuser, bo this man, following one of those eccentric and dangerous impulses which man often experiences to say the most dangerous things, had uttered to the girl the words of that fatal night. He was convicted of the crime for which Marie had been tortured.