Chapter 6 2 Corners Inquests

There had not been since the last general election, when George Augustus Sleshington, the

Liberal member, had been returned against strong conservative opposition in a blaze of triumph

and a shower of rotten eggs and cabbage stumps.

There had not been since that great day such excitement in Slapperton as there was on

the discovery of the murder of Mr. Monahue Harding.

A murder was always a great thing for Slapperton.

When John Boggins, Weaver, beat out the brains of Sarah, his wife, first with the heel of

his clog, and ultimately with a poker, Slapperton had a great deal to say about it.

Though of course, the slaughter of one hand by another was no great thing out of the factories.

But this murder at the black mill was something out of the common, uncommonly cruel, cowardly,

and unmannedly, and moreover occurring in a respectable rank of life.

Round that lonely house on the Slapperton road, there was a crowd and a bustle throughout

the short, foggy day on which Richard Marward was arrested.

One of the press were there sniffing out with miraculous acumen, particulars of the murder,

which as yet were known to none but the heads of the Slapperton police force.

How many lines at three-half pence per line these gentlemen wrote concerning the dreadful

occurrence without knowing anything whatever about it?

No one unacquainted with the mysteries of their art would dare to say.

The two papers which appeared on Friday had accounts varying in every item, and the

one paper which appeared on Saturday had a happy amalgamation of the two conflicting

accounts, demonstrating thereby the triumph of paste and scissors over Penny Aliner's

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