Friday Morning, 9 A.M.—­All is now over.  The prisoner rose early and made a hearty breakfast, and plainly enjoyed the cigar which he smoked afterwards with his friend the Governor, who seemed to regard the entrance of the executioner as an untimely interruption to the conversation.  “You’ll have to wait a bit for the rest of that story, Governor,” was LARRIKIN’s light-hearted comment.  The unhappy man then—­(Details follow which we prefer to leave to the reader’s imagination—­he will find them all in the very next special description of such a scene).  LARRIKIN was most anxious that it should be widely known that, in his own words, “he was true to himself and the public, and game to the last.”

Several reporters were present in the prison-yard, and also a number of persons of distinction, who were only admitted as a great favour.  It is said that the prison Authorities were compelled to disappoint thousands who had applied for permission to view the last sad scene.

LARRIKIN’s melancholy end will doubtless operate as a warning and an example to many romantic youths, who are only too easily led away by the morbid desire for notoriety, which is so prevalent nowadays, and which is so difficult either to account for, or discourage.—­(Special Descriptive Report.)

* * * * *

IN OUR GARDEN.

Monday, November 24.

[Illustration]

Charmed to have a visit from OLD MORALITY to-day.  Most kind of him to find time to run down, seeing all he has on hand.  But he’s a really good fellow, of the kind who in all circumstances find time to do a friendly thing.  Always from the first taken a friendly interest in our little experiment.  He is, indeed, indirectly personally responsible for its undertaking.  If I hadn’t come across him playing leapfrog before dinner with AKERS—­DOUGLAS and JACKSON, as mentioned some weeks ago, SARK and I would never have tried this way of passing a Recess.

Hadn’t heard OLD MORALITY was going to look in.  Expect he wasn’t sure he could get away from Cabinet Council, and so didn’t write.  When I came upon him he was standing absorbed in contemplation of ARPACHSHAD.  ARPACHSHAD, himself, so engrossed in problem occupying his mind, that he did not notice our visitor.  Had started yesterday cutting grass on lawn with machine.  Getting on pretty well with it till, this morning, wind rose, blowing half a gale from Westward.  ARPACHSHAD discovered that, starting with machine from the Westward, he, with wind blowing astern, got on capitally; but coming back, with wind ahead, there was decided addition to labour of propelling machine.  When OLD MORALITY arrived, ARPACHSHAD had halted midway across the lawn, and was looking Westward with air of profound and troubled cogitation.

“I know what he’s thinking of,” said OLD MORALITY, whose Parliamentary experience has made him an adept at thought-reading; “he’s wondering if it’s possible to mow the lawn all from the Westward, so that he would have the wind behind him throughout the operation.”