"By the holy name of God, I implore you not to tear me from the body of my child, but if that name has no weight with you, and as I perceive it is useless to appeal to you by the sacred tenets of Christianity, let me pray you, that as a man, you will not descend to such brutality as to force me from the dead body that now lies before you, and deprive me of performing the last sad rites over her.

In the name of all that is humane, I plead to you, and, oh, God! let my supplications be answered." "Dere is no use of you talking in dat vay to me," said Mr.Swartz in a coarse and brutal tone.

"It vas in de same sthyle dat you vent on dis morning, ven you vas begging me, and den you afterwards shtole my monish." As he finished speaking, the old negro entered the cabin, and perceiving the intruders, enquired the cause of their presence.

The Catholic who was an Irishman, briefly explained the object of their visit to the astonished old woman, who never conceived for a moment that Mrs.Wentworth had been guilty of theft.
"De Lor!" she exclaimed, as soon as her informant had concluded his remarks.

"Who would'a believe it?
Poh people, dey is really bad off," and she hurried to Mrs.Wentworth's side.
Mrs.Wentworth had paid no attention to the colloquy between the old negro and the policeman; she was engaged in appealing to Mr.Swartz, not to remove her to jail that night.
"You must have some feelings of humanity within you," she was observing.