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Updated: June 12, 2025
There is something almost heroic in the idea of firing off guns for a man who has been stone-dead for about four centuries. It must have had a lively and festive sound in Boston, when the meaning of the salute was explained. No one could hear those great guns without a quicker beating of the heart in gratitude to the great discoverer who had made Boston possible.
History had not yet many instances to show of a Minister who had fallen from high place, and yet was suffered to lead a private life in peace. It was just a quarter of a century since Essex had used the menacing words in regard to Strafford, "Stone-dead hath no fellow."
That officer having dared in his presence to speak disrespectfully of his father, was suddenly seized about the waist by the enraged young Count, hurled out of the window, and killed stone-dead upon the spot. After this exhibition of his natural feelings, the Spanish government thought it necessary to take more subtle means to tame so turbulent a spirit. Unfortunately they proved successful.
They did not stop to look, but with a howl of awful terror, and in an anguish of fright, they turned and ran for their lives! Girasole saw him too, with equal horror, if not greater. He saw Hawbury. It was the man whom he had killed stone-dead with his own hand. He was there before him or was it his ghost?
I saw it stop eating and spit its stomach out and shrivel up, and crawl out of its skin and pull its own head off, and bury itself alive in a coffin made out of itself, a coffin like a bit of rotting wood. Look at it! There it lies, stone-dead for all a man's eyes can see!
He kept on limping until he was touched a second time in the arm, but still he persevered with a dogged courage, when a third bullet struck him in the forehead, and he dropped with outspread arms, raising a little cloud of dust. He must have been stone-dead before he reached the ground. His conduct was "muy valiente," so said his Spanish comrades.
He found the beast stone-dead, a rill of blood from beneath the fore-leg showing where some one's bullet had done the business. The lad recalled the sound of the gun which had reached his ear. "That was the best shot for me that Mickey ever made," he muttered, looking around for his friend. But he was nowhere to be seen. "Mickey must always have his fun," added Fred after failing to detect him.
The fact is what both he and the stipendiary desire is that the affair should be settled by an acquittal, for an affair settled by an acquittal is an affair buried. Stone-dead has no fellow; it is consigned to oblivion.
Lathrop! you never in all your life dreamed such a yell 's he give! I like to 'a' went deaf! I jumped worse 'n 'f I 'd been shot stone-dead. Wild whoopin' Indians was sleepin' babes beside him.
On looking closer, however, I satisfied myself that he was really and truly stone-dead, whereupon my followers crowded round, laughed and danced and shouted with joy like children, and bore me in triumph shoulder-high round the dead body.
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