may be nothing but a tribute to the rarity of female crime, compared with male.
Male acts of violence are in truth so common, that they fail to stir the general pulse.
Nobody cares to hear about a man being killed.
Last night an Irish labourer was shot in Broadway
, near the county jail.
challenged his chum, Jim Burke
, to fight.
The two men had been drinking with their sluts; the two couples hugging and mugging in the imbecile friendships caused by gin; until the two sluts fell out and scratched each other's eyes.
took part in the affair.
“ Come out and fight,” cried Owen
, hectoring under his chum's window.
“ Coming down, ye skunk!”
, pulling out his pistol, and jumping down the stairs.
snapped at him twice, and Burke
returned the fire.
fell dead, a bullet in his heart.
This tale is in the morning papers, told in two inches of type.
But female crime, especially when a lady takes to shooting her friends and lovers in the streets, or on the ferries, pays a journal to report the incident at greater length.
A pistoler like Laura Fair is worth a thousand copies to an evening paper.
Having a secret