The Dallas Daily Herald

Why He Changed His Mind.

Captain McKaig gets off the following story as of actual occurrence: A broth of a boy died on the Hill, and Mr. Moriarty dressed himself in his best, and went to view the "corpse." He had a new shiny beaver 17th of March hat, bought last St. Patrick's day. Entering the abode of sorrow, he held the glossy tile before him, crossed the floor, and deposited it with great care upon a chair at the head of the coffin. Then, wringing his hands mournfully, he turned to the weeping mother,

"Shure, Mrs. Maloney, it's a great loss ye hev been til. I'm full of the sorrow for yez but the Lord's will be done," Turning to the corpse, Mr. Moriarty delivered himself thus: "Oh, purty bye, Tommy. Why did yez die. And ain't he purty in his new shirrit and shute ov clothes. And won't we miss him from the corner where he used to stand waitin fur the girruls. Luk at him layin' there so swate and purty. Shure, oinyer saw a purtier corrupse. But the Lord's will must be done an' I must go."

Turning away, he found that huge woman was sitting rocking and weeping in the chair where he had deposited his precious hat. Speaking in a sweet low voice he inquired:

"Have yez seen my new hat?"

No one replied. A little louder:

"Have yez seen my new hat?"

No reply. With still greater voice: "Where is my new hat?"

The big woman reached around under her huge arm and pulled out a concertina-looking concern made of black beaver, and tearfully remarked: "I— this yer hat, Mr. Moriarty?"

He reeled himself up, jammed his fist into the wrecked beaver, in vain attempt to straighten it out; he gazed upon the corpse and pronounced: "Yis, dat's me hat, and d— be dh' day I iver kem in tili see sich an agly corrupse as tis wan. It's dhe ugliest ivir saw, an' a good riddance." Then he walked out.