KILLED BY HER SISTER.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXIX, Issue 3647, 25 January 1899, Page 2

KILLED BY HER SISTER.

Family jars in Whitechapel are apt to take a practical turn, especially on Saturday night. December 2nd, when repented “goes” of gin. cold too often stimulate into dangerous activity tho pugnacious instincts of the ladies. Still it is not often (says the London correspondent of tho Sydney “ Daily Telegraph”) that rows result in worse consequences than broken heads and windows, followed by an expensive interview with “tho beak” on Monday morning. On Saturday last, December 2nd, a tragedy of a far more fatal description took place in a room in, Dorset street, Spitalfiolds, tbo scene of one of the worst “Ripper” murders. The residents wore Davd Roberts, bis wife, and their little boy. Kate Marshall, tlxo wife’s sister, had been staying with tho family, for tho last throe months. Roberts is. a painter and decorator, and the typ, women made toy whips at home. TJie pair were always jangling, and , Kate Marshall seldom achieved complete sobriety. On Saturdays Mrs Roberts and her sister usually went out “for a 1 glass” after receiving their earnings, and did not return until ’ closing time. ■ The husband knew of this custom, and last Saturday went to bed with his child at 10. About midnight , the women returned. They had been “ supping ” gin for. some hours, and brought homo aj quart of ale to “top up” with. Kate kindly offered her brother-in-law a glass, ami ho "then went to sleep. The women fell to talking. Suddenly Miss Marshall, whose methods in liquor were variable, took offence. She seized a jug, smashed the adjacent windows, and then flew at her sister : with “ I’ll give , you ' what for!” A struggle ensued) in' tho course of which the table

<«••• in a; most of the family crockery overturned, and tne combatants collapsed, tearing and fighting into a blend of broken china and Irish stew. These amenities disturbed Mr Roberts’ repose, and, rising, he duffed the loving sisters apart. “Then,” said he, telling tho story later, “for a few minutes they were quiet; but all of a sudden Kate made a rush at my wife, and said, ‘That’s what you mean,’ at the same time striking her a blow' iii the right breast. At the time I didn’t notice anything in Kate’s hand, but my wife called out, ‘Dave, she has stabbed me !’ I again jumped out of bed and seized Kate by the wrists, and then noticed a knife in her right hand. It was a worn, shoemaker’s knife which sho had purchased a few days previously for.-tho purpose of making tho whips, but- it -was very sharp. Kate cried out, ‘Let mo go,’ and struggled desperately; but I stuck to her, and got her out on to the landing. I thou kicked at the partition of Mr Amery, ■who lives in the, front room, and opened his door. • Kate continued to struggle, and fought like a wild boast, tearing my shirt, and trying to bite mo; but I hold on, and succeeded in wrenching the, knife from her. During the time I ivas struggling my wife left our room and fell against mo in the passage, faint from loss of blood. Then Dr Hume arrived and attended to her. My wife and her sister were in the habit of jangling about business matters, .but so far as I know they have never come to blows. They were in the habit of ‘getting a glass’ on Saturday night, though, as a matter of fact, Kato was nearly- always drunk. When Kate found tho serious nature of tho case, sho cried out: ‘ What have I dpno P Let me, see her !’” A pathetic ' incident occurred while Roberts was telling the story. The

■ little boy/ referred to kept crying, “Where’s Mummy ? Is Mummy coming ?” and thoso present had to toll the poor little chap that his mother » would be there presently. Mrs Roberts died within ten minutes of tho tragodv and her sister lias, of course, been charged with the murder. According to the neighbours, Kate and her sister were good friends, and quite as fond of each other as persons so circumstanced arc expected to

DC. The view of tho tragedy taken by ~ Whitechapel is peculiar: It blames Roberts and tho deceased, not Miss Marshall:—“ Knowiu’ ’oiv ’asiy tbo pore thing was artor a drop o’ drink, Roberts ’o oughtcr ’avo seen there was no knives or ’atehots Andy. A scratch or two and a ’aiidful o’ ’air, well,_ wot is it ’ere or there. The host o’ friends must bust up occasional.”