Washington Telegraph

Remarkable Seizure of a Supposed Burglar.—A gentleman living in the Western part of the city, experienced a truly exciting event, and became suddenly and unexpectedly the hero of a startling scene, the other night. He had retired to bed at his usual hour, his wife being sick, and fortunately, as it seems, under the necessity of taking medicine during the night which with a lamp, match box, etc. were placed upon the table near the bed. At about two o'clock as it afterwards proved, his wife awoke and discovered that the lamp was out; and wishing for her medicine, awoke her husband, requesting him to reach to the table and hand it to her. He was, it seems, lying upon his left side and the table directly before his face; accordingly extending his right hand to feel for the bottle, he placed it upon the hand of a man upon the table. With admirable presence of mind, he instantly tightened his grip, and firmly holding on, at once called out, 'there's a man in the room!' His wife screamed, and cried aloud for assistance upon others in the house, unwilling to move; while her husband feeling the risk of moving from his first position, and unable to turn so as to get a loaded pistol beneath his pillow, shrewdly enough, however, exclaimed sternly to the man. 'If you dare to move, I'll blow your brains out.' The noise occasioned by such an occurrence, with the crying and screaming of one or two of the children in the room, who had been woke up by it, soon brought in two or three of other members of the household, with lights, when our excellent friend was discovered holding in the vice like grip of his night—his own left hand! Under the intercepted circulation caused by the pressure of his head, stretched out upon the table, the unfortunate cause of this frightful scene was just coming to itself, the grip of the other hand almost starting blood from the tips of the imprisoned fingers.— The supposed burglar was released instantly, and our worthy friend, with his daring and presence of mind, at a marvelous dis count, slid under the blankets to enjoy his laughter by himself.—Balt. Sun.