The sheriff took the condemned man away. Overnight, pending his removal to the place of execution, he was lodged in his old cell in the county jail. He sent a message to the commonwealth’s attorney who had prosecuted him, asking that he might see that official immediately. The commonwealth’s attorney went to the jail. The doomed darky was sitting on his cot with his face in his hands rocking himself back and forth while the tears trickled through his fingers. “Mr. Corbett,” he said, “I craves to ax a dyin’ favor of you, please suh?” “Well, Jake,” said the attorney, “I’d do anything in my power, almost, to ease your mind. But if you are after a pardon or a reprieve I can’t see my way clear to helping you. You killed that man in cold blood and you had a fair trial and you’ve got to die and, what’s more, you’ve got to die on the date this judge has named.” “’Tain’t dat, suh,” bewailed Jake, “I ain’t got no quarrel wid de date. I kin git all my worldly affairs settled up ’twixt now an’ den an’ mek my peace wid de Lawd, lakwise. But, Mr. Corbett,”—and here his voice broke sharply—“I p’intedly does hate to be settin’ in dat dere cheer f’um sunrise plum’ till sunset.” § 101 The Perils of Pranking There was a homicide trial going on in the mountains of West Virginia. A lanky native took the stand to testify to the good character and peaceful disposition of the prisoner at the bar. When he had given the accused a glowing testimonial the prosecuting attorney took him in hand for cross-examination. “Look here,” he demanded: “isn’t that the mark of an old knife cut you’ve got across the lobe of your left ear?” “Yas, suh; it is.” “Well, who inflicted that wound?” “Bill, thar, he done it, one time.” “By ‘Bill’ you mean the defendant here?” “Yep.” “I see you also have the scar of a bullet wound in your right cheek. Who made that?” “Bill.” “On still another occasion didn’t Bill, as you call him, gouge one of your eyes almost out?” “That’s a fact, too.” “Now, then, in view of the injuries you yourself admit having sustained at his hands, how do you reconcile your sworn statements of a minute ago that the defendant is an individual of peaceable and law-abiding nature, and a good neighbor?” “Well, suh,” said the witness, “Bill is one of the nicest fellers ever you seen in your life; but I must say this—he’s a powerful onlikely pusson to prank with!” § 102 The Really Important Point Among the writer’s acquaintances is a well-to-do person who spends his summers cruising about in a private yacht. One afternoon near Cape Cod he dropped anchor just off a village for the night. While he was sitting on deck puffing a cigar before retiring, he saw one native approach another who was perched upon the dock and heard the newcomer say, in excited tones: