Hopkins, of Kidderminster, and Mr. T. Brown,
of Cirencester, as persons to whom, among
several others, he repeatedly exhibited the phenomena
he describes. Moreover, his statements
will seem less improbable if we remember the
butterfly trick of the Japanese conjurors. The
conjuror twists a bit of paper into the form of a
butterfly, which by means of a couple of fans
he sends flitting about in a room from flower to
flower. He makes a second butterfly, and it is
seen playing with the other; and then he lets
loose a flock of butterflies, which, after flying
about and playing with each other, finally settle
upon the flowers.

A summary of results which appear to be
proven:—Spiders can dart out stiff threads without
the aid of currents of air. There are spiders
which can put forth a stiff thread in a horizontal
direction, and box the compass with it: there
are certain species of spiders which can sail
upon the breezes by means of a float of filaments.
And there are spiders which travel in
the skies, by means of balloons, which they
make of silk, and inflate, and regulate, and
direct.

DUGGAN AND HIS GANG.

THOUGH it is now sixty years ago, there are
travellers yet alive who, going by stage-coach
from Cork to Tralee, have seen the eight skulls
that were stuck on spikes on the roof of the
market-house in the town of Macroom, in the
barony of Muskerry.

People did not like to talk about the skulls.
When questioned, the country people said
"they were the murderers of Colonel Hutchinson;"
but no more could be got out of
them. The skulls were a source of disgust
and horror to the inhabitants of Macroom, and
to all the country round. They had not been
subjected to any previous process, as was
usually the case with the horrible remains
of traitors' heads and members, ordered to
be exposed. These heads had been put over
the market-house at Macroom just as they
were struck from the bodies to which they
belonged.

Above one of the heads there was nailed a hand,
severed at the wrist, and the sight of the half-bleached
skulls was hideous. They cowed the
people, and struck more fear of the law into their
hearts than as many regiments of dragoons. That
part of the country, for many years after the event
that gave rise to this spectacle, was the most
peaceable district in Ireland. The fate of the
"murderers of Mr. Hutchinson" was a very
effective terror to evil-doers. But who were
they? and what was the story? Here it is:
for though people would not tell it, it is on
record in the criminal trials.

Mr. Hutchinson was an amiable and worthy
man, who lived at a house called Codrum,
about a mile out of the market-town, of Macroom.
It stood in its own plantation, on a
rising ground, with a lawn before it, dotted
with ornamental trees, and adorned with fair
beds of flowers. Colonel Hutchinson was a man
of property; he belonged to what was called a
"new family," but he was much respected
by the neighbouring gentry; the poor people
were fond of him, for he was an excellent and
charitable man. In 1782, he had held a commission
in the Irish Volunteers, and when they
were disbanded the title of "colonel" was allowed
to most of the officers. Colonel Hutchinson's
sister resided with him, and he had one
man-servant. Although he was popular, he
was nevertheless an active magistrate, and had
been so, in the famous year '98; but no harm
had ever been done to him or his property. It
was his habit to sit up reading late at night,
and the light in his bedroom could be seen at
all hours. He was known to have much valuable
property in the house; but he took no
extra precaution.

One morning, early in the summer of the
year 1800, the neighbourhood was thrown into
commotion by the report that Colonel Hutchinson
had been murdered in the night. Some
labourers passing to their work saw the large
kitchen window, in the front of the house,
completely smashed. Going up to learn what
had happened, they found the shutter broken
in, the front door open, and the body of
Colonel Hutchinson lying dead and stiff at the
foot of the stairs, with a wound through his
heart. Shot dead, as was supposed.

None of the inmates could give any account
of the matter. Miss Hutchinson could only say
that she had been awakened by the noise of the
kitchen window being smashed in, and the sound
of several persons rushing into the house. In
her fright she left her bed and hid behind a large
press, up-stairs in a garret, and had not ventured
out till long after all was quiet. Reen, the
man-servant, stammered and looked exceedingly
guilty; but could give no information. He declared
he was very deaf, and had not heard anything
whatever during the night; that he had
been, besides, fast asleep. Of course, he was
an object of suspicion, and was taken into
custody; but nothing could be got out of him.
All the neighbouring gentry belonged to the
yeomanry corps—Catholics as well as Protestants—
and they bound themselves by an oath
not to rest until the murderers were discovered.

A reward of three hundred pounds was offered
for any information that could lead to their detection.
One remarkable thing was, that, although
a handsome looking-glass had been broken, and
some furniture pulled about, nothing had been
stolen. Suspicion at last fell on a man named
Malachi Duggan. He was a farmer of the
better class; superior to the common peasantry
in education and intelligence, as well as in position.
He bore, however, a very bad character.
In appearance he was the type of a ruffian; of
gigantic stature, and strong in proportion;
his countenance was brutal and ferocious, with
a dash of cunning which made it more repulsive;
oddly enough, he was in great request in the