HIS LAST ROLL CALL.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXIII, Issue 7656, 5 June 1886, Page 3 (Supplement)

HIS LAST ROLL CALL.

" NIGGER JIM," AFTER TEN YEARS' SKEVICE, DIES AT HIS PO»T. " Nigger Jim" recently died in the Thirtiethstreet police station, New York, after a long and faithful aerice in the ranks of the police force. He was only a dog, but as a guardian of the peace he leaves behind him a record that few can equal and'none excel. He has been attached to the Twenty-ninth precinct police station for the past ten years, and, according to the statement of Sergeant Schmittberger, has never missed a roll call in that time. Ho wandered into the stationhouse one eveuing, and at once seemed to consider himself a member of the force. Directly the bell sounded to "fall in" Jim would head the line, and march into the presence of his superior officer with a dignity and composure worthy of imitation. If Jim was "on patrol" when roll time came around he would mount the stationhouse steps, and scratch at the door until it was opened, and he was admitted. Then, announcing his presence by a short, quick bark, he would "fall in," with tail erect, and await the order to march. When the stationhouse had become quiet, Jim would curl up by the stove, and sleep with a clear conscience of having done his duty, TO THE RESCUE. One evening a " drunk and disorderly" was brought in, and Doorman Dempsey stood by the desk waiting to take him inside. Suddenly he jumped for Dempsey, and, taking him by the throat, was fast choking him to death when Jim sprang to his feet, and, grasping the situation at a glance, reversed things by jumping for the drunken man's throat, and seizing it in a vice-like grip. Dempsey was released in an almost insensible condition, and the prisoner was locked up. •' Nigger Jim," until the laet year or two, went on the "last tour" with either the sergeant or roundsman, and it was during' one of these walks through the precinct that he made his reputation as a burglar catcher. Walking one morning early past a jewellery store, Jim's eyes spied a window with a pane of glass removed, and, quick as thought, he sprang inside through the aperture._ The roundsman followed, and discovered Jim in a corner carefully watching the burglar he had captured. The man had packed up a quantity of jewellery, and but for Jim's timely suspicion, would have made good his escape with it. He is now serving for the attempt. EVER FAITHFUL. With some reporters Jim was very sociable and friendly, but with others he would growl and bark until they would depart. About a week ago Jim was run over by a heavy waggon, his leg receiving serious injury, but it was thought, as he limped out to call ragularly, that up would get well, but soon lie became so ill that the services of Dr. Bass, of West Thirtieth-street, were thought necessary, and he was called in. The dootor did all in his power to save poor Jim, but without success, Jim died quietly and peacefully, leaving behind him a name and record that will long be remembered in the Twenty-ninth precinct. He is sadly mourned by the officers of Captain William's command, and the captain and sergeants will unite in having him stuffed and handsomely mounted, to be placed in the back room of the stationhouse.