I have no daughter.

I am a poet.
The foreman printer deposed to having had his attention called to the murder of the editor about three o'clock.

He was very busy at the time.
About an hour afterward he saw the body and put a placard over it.

He spoke of the matter to the assistant editor, who suggested that they had better call in the police.

That was done.
A clerk in the counting-house says: I distinctly remember the afternoon of the murder.