The ceremonies of the execution then proceeded, although amid an atmosphere of intense nervous excitement. The condemned man was taken from his sleigh, and, because of his illness, required assistance in ascending the gallows. As he stood there, the centre of all eyes, he seemed a different man from the passionate murderer of Abraham Spafard. Weak and sick, he looked down upon the multitude assembled to see him die. His look was one of regretful sympathy because of the unexpected accident rather than of fear of his own impending fate. "Who are killed; and how many are injured?" he inquired. The rope was noosed about Kelley's neck. The Presbyterian minister stepped forward, and commended the convict's soul to the mercy of God in a prayer in which Kelley, with bowed head, seemed to participate. Then the drop fell. After a few twitchings of the limbs, the body quivered, and hung still. The show was over. The crowd dispersed. The effect of this exhibition was to give voice to a growing sentiment against public hangings. The next issue of the _Freeman's Journal_ protested against such spectacles as demoralizing, and suggested a movement in the State legislature to amend the law. Kelley's was in fact the last public hanging in Cooperstown. The execution of Levi Kelley, with its unexpected accompanying catastrophe, was long the talk of the neighborhood. It was commemorated by Isaac Squire, an Otsego rhymester, in some verses that are of curious interest as a survival of the old ballad form in which events were wont to be celebrated. Many years afterward there were those who recalled that the doleful lines were committed to memory by some of the village children, and sung to a droning tune: LINES ON THE EXECUTION OF LEVI KELLEY. Part First In eighteen hundred twenty seven Poor Kelley broke the law of Heaven; He murdered his poor tenant there, Who took his place to work on share. 'Twas early on a Monday night This horrid scene was brought to light; He seized his loaded gun in hand, And with malicious fury ran, And when about four feet apart, Alas! he shot him to the heart. The expiring words, we understand, Were, "O Lord, I'm a dying man!" They quickly ran him to relieve, But death could grant him no reprieve; He expired almost instantly, In his affrighted family. Kelley's indicted for the crime; Confined in prison for a time; A murderer here can take no rest, While guilt lies heavy on his breast. November on the twenty-first, For murder of a fellow dust, He was arraigned before the bar, And tried by his country there. Full testimony did appear That when the Jury came to hear In verdict they were soon agreed That he was guilty of this deed.