THE BATTALION.
23
ately afterward he had said, “That is Mr. Goodrum, what
is the matter with him?”
He was now reminded of this and called on to explain
the contradiction in which he had involved himself. His
answer was:
“I don’t know why I said that. I did know who Mr.
Goodrum was, and I had heard of his being- hurt. But I
did not know him. I mean, I had no acquaintance with
him. I do not buy books, for my children are not old
enoug-h to g-o to school. I have never said a word to Mr.
Goodrum in my life.”
“How, then,” asked one of the jurors, “did you know
him to be Mr. Goodrum, when you saw him on the bed?”
“Why, everybody was talking- of the murder, and I knew
from the cut in his head that he must be the man.”
“How did you know he had a cut in his head? The
doctor had trepanned him when you saw him.”
“Yes, but his head was all bound up, and I had heard
about the cut.”
“Where were you on Wednesday nig-ht, the third of
July?”
“I had spent that whole day out at the vineyard, and
did not come back into town until nine o’clock at nig-ht,
when I went straig-ht home to bed and did not g-et up until
five o’clock Thursday morning-.”
“How do you remember so exactly what you did and
where you were on that particular day?”
“My Black July’s were beginning- to ripen that day
and I spent the whole day bag-ging- them to keep off the
birds.”