Somewhere in New York, in the Cherry Hill district, lives a lady who at
some remote period embarked upon a matrimonial undertaking, and became
officially and legally Mrs. Bill Slewer. Happily for her, a paternal
government deprived her, at stated intervals, of communion with her
lord. Bill in Sing-Sing was an infinitely better husband than Bill at
home. When Mr. Slewer finally disappeared, this poor woman hoped most
sincerely that she had heard the last of him. But this was not to be,
for that same paternal government of the United States of America sought
her out.
"DEAR MADAM" (ran the letter), "I regret to inform you, that your
husband, William Slewer, was killed by Moorish brigands in the vicinity
of Tangier, on December 24 last. It would appear that the Moors came
upon him unexpectedly, whilst he was awaiting the return of a friend in
a little wood near the city, and in spite of a most desperate
resistance, in which six of the brigands lost their lives, he was shot
down. As a result of the representations of this department, and on the
evidence of the Duc de Montvillier, the Moorish Government has offered
compensation, which, although inadequate in view of your terrible loss,
may replace the means of sustenance, of which you have been deprived. I
enclose a draft on the First National Bank for $20,000 (say twenty
thousand dollars).
"Yours faithfully,
----."