him to mount the ladder yvithout help; but "Booby" could not do so, and had to be aided by Mr. French. W h e n on the platform "Booby," as if dazed, turned away, seemingly powerless; but "Ptolemy" stood firm and immovable as a statue. T h e executioner was this time more expert yvith his yvork, and the rope being quickly adjusted and the caps pulled over, the drop went down and "Ptolemy" died momentarily. It was not so with "Booby," who, as he was commencing the leap in the dark, essayed a last desperate effort to stave off death, and pushing one of his feet against a portion of the platform, his fall yvas thus broken, when after nearly turning a somersault he dropped doyvn, and terminated his existence in lengthened and violent convulsions. Amongst the attendance was a large number of aborigines from the tribes of the Upper Yarra, AVestern Port, and M o u n t Macedon, whose demeanour was a marked contrast to the loud laughter and coarse gibes of the white people, the great majority of w h o m were w o m e n , old and young, handsome and ugly. THE GIPPSLAND MURDERER.—29TH NOVEMBER, 1847.
John Healey, alias " Pretty Boy," convicted of the murder of James Ritchie, at Tarraville, became in some degree resigned to his fate after removal to the condemned cell, but was hopeful of receiving a pardon. It was remarked of him by the prison officials that he was the least troublesome convict ever in their charge. H e repeatedly declared " that he was drunk on the night of the murder, and the other tyvo m e n yvere the murderers." During the time intervening from his trial to his execution, he expressed deep contrition for past transgressions, and his conduct presented a marked difference to that of all other criminals executed in the district. H e persisted to the last in protesting his innocence, averring that the crime for which he was to yield up his life had been committed by others. A careful perusal of a full report of the trial leads to an almost irresistible conclusion not of the prisoner's innocence, but an incompleteness in the welding of the chain of circumstantial evidence coiled round h i m — a link or a strengthening of a link, or a something else wanted to thoroughly establish the identity of the prisoner as the murderer. H e had prepared an elaborate statement, sought to demonstrate that he had been wrongfully convicted, and that it would be an enormous abuse of justice to hang him and allow tyvo of the witnesses w h o syvore against him to get off free, they being, as he declared, the true homicides. This appeal was ineffectual, and the prisoner was ordered for execution on the 29th November. Father Geoghegan and Dean Coffey were in attendance upon him, and one or both continued so up to the last moment. Healey expressed a wish to be hanged in the same moleskin trousers and redflannelshirt in which he yvas said to be dressed when he killed Ritchie. His desire was gratified. O n emerging from the cell Father Geoghegan offered a consolatory remark, to which the prisoner, as in reply, declared, " If I got the yveight of myself in gold, I do not think I should exchange for it. I a m glad to die for m y sins, and I am sure G o d will forgive m e !" After entering the corridor, the Sheriff asked one of those absurdly purposeless questions which Sheriffs have been asking time immemorial from prisoners on the road to death, " If he was satisfied with the treatment he had received in gaol ?" to yvhich, as a matter of course, an affirmative reply was returned. T h e prisoner then begged permission, when on the scaffold, to address a few remarks to the people outside, on the evils of drink and bad company; but Father Geoghegan advised him not to do so. T h e prisoner concurred, and, looking into the faces of the few persons standing around, in a steady, unfaltering voice, said: " From the time I was a child up to this m o m e n t I never had a thought of doing any harm to Ritchie, and I a m not guilty of murdering him. I do not know anyone that had a thought of murdering him, but I a m willing to dieform y sins." T h e executioner next stepped forth, and quickly buckled the pinion strap. T h e two priests accompanied the prisoner, chanting a litany, to which Healey responded. Though the responses became weaker, he passed into the gallows yard, and, unaided, mounted to the drop, followed by Father Geoghegan. It was now raining, and the priest descending, the few remaining formalities were hastily got over, and there was an end of the prisoner, yvho died very quietly. The attendance of the public was very small, not more than about three hundred, where there used to be twice as m a n y thousands. T h e gathering outside seemed ill-humoured and impatient, and vented not over mild imprecations upon the gaol authorities for keeping them out in the rain. Just as the prisoner became visible on the drop, a sudden gust of wind swept overhead, as if about to unroof the prison, followed by an
