“AND THOUGHT
THE WORLD
WELL LOST’
Ur kti-«ri»■ Ks» nrfrt. which
Mi to It® Newport read I ax
run*, uraic a solitary ftgurr
(hr other day Hands ia his
pocket* u4 coat-collar turned
up. he walked along with booed head.
Ue was know Turk French. clubman.
Mi ku«r a*d brother of Mr*. Elsie
rtrmrh Vkaderbilt
Not too Hoc-ha aaay. around the
ranter la Everett street, too Uugb
toe yoeeg people oere posing for
thecr pSci-jcc* ta a big automobile,
with a dec between them, aays a writ
er la the New Torn World She was
tall, oell-groomad. arrayed ia > fetch
Ihg frock sad nestling close to the
yeuag fellow who aat at the wheel of
the atrklsc They were Mr and Mrs
John Rdsard Haul Geragbty -the
young run pie who eloped last August
—dhe from Amos Tach French's vi'.:a
hear the tuffs, he from his Newport
enrage
All sweety knows of their runaway
fftght in their automobile last rum
mer. wt*h detectives Mr. Tn-ach and
Mrs Vaadertdii oa their trail ia
seies A ad society know* of the
renmciuauoa that sever was because
the pretty bride would not go home
tmlesa they eceepted her chauffeur
heshsad— demonstrator ' Le likes to
he called -and of their taking their
little ullage home ia Newport where
loan* Mr Oraghty. son of one of the
teen '. Arkmen has an interest in two
garage# sow. one in Fillmore street
am* the ether la South Baptist street
Modest but Happy Heme.
"i ome la." Laughed young Mr. Ger
kghty opening the door of his Ever
ett street cottage
It la a pretty little cottage—his
clothes than Mrs. Somebody; giving
• more extensive party than some one
else; having the most men trailing
•round after you; getting somebody
eise's husband away from her—these
•re the things Newport people care i
about.”
But to the cosey little home of the
elopers.
There is • square hall to the left as
one enters and back of It is the kitch
en. To the right is the modest par
lor. and back of that is the dining
room It it a home that a clerk in a
prosperous store might have, or a
: tradesman who has a nice little buai
| ness In shoes or Ash. But It isn't
1 anything like Tuck's Kden, at Tuxedo.
. or the villa of Newport, where the
Amos Tuck Frenches live.
Difference in “Homes.”
It isn't the kind of home that the
i pretty bride had up to that fateful
day in August last when she made
up her mind to run away with young
Geragbtv and upset Newport by the
elopement as it has seldom been up
set before
The hail is in red. with a few con
ventional pictures hung about. There
I
•»
Work* a* Other Newporter* Work j
Who Are Neither Rich Nor Poor.
_____.. _ __ __|
‘Hu* and egg* this msming,*
•augn*d young Garagnty “But me
««'t car make coffe*.”
n,«'e»t boa* *b«» the girl from the
<1»*» has come to stay Outalde tt
ia a due p»«; inside it thine* with
te* **1' P*per neir rug*, new furot
tv,rr new rtma Ait that ia old In It
»r« (be tittle gsrlib souvenirs of ber
•■^ee I'fe which the eloping bride
browgh* frog* her other bane
Well “ laughed the young bride
$ rrmm. “here It la—ibis l* our new
i»»e And don't forget, everything
la I ought aad • aid for."
The Geragbiys lie# aa a thousand
«- i er Newporter. Ur# who are neither
l<«e nor rich There are 20.000 of
i *m. bat only 300 get their natnet tn
l e society column a Aa yet the for
c ee M u French baa not been cbroa
» -*d that way Very frankly, abe la
i o’ on speaking terms wrltb ber father
lad m<>'b«r. "We have eleven rooms.'
sard the bridegroom, “four on this
boor four upstairs and three In the
•h»rd etory Pretty nice. Isn't It?"
Indeed the young fellow might well
b- proud lor It wasn't so long ago
ihai he was making tlO a month
lardly enough to pay the rent of bis
ireamt bom# Mr* Geragbty was up
stairs making the beds and singing
rerrtly
•do*- Geragbty Doe* the Honor*.
Bat there was a household tragedy
<m—Josephine. the colored maid of all
work, was away and there waa no
body to cook hat Mrs Geragbty. who
always before had a lady a maid tc
wait apoa ber personally, and a but
ler. footmen and chauffeurs to sec
that everything ah* wanted was prop
ecly dost*
On the parlor table were relics o!
the bygone days which Mrs Geragbty
has pat behind ber As she said:
“Society women are all vapid and
•he men are fools I haven't any us«
for the crowd Money, an artificial
social position, having better looking
There were lamb chops lying ready
j for the deft fingers of the bride, and a
basket of potatces. And within the
nice little ice box was the cold meat
and salad for the evening meal.
Is a nine, new rug. a hat rack, and the
telephone stands on a little table. The
parlor—it can't be called a drawing
room—Is modestly papered In green
and the dining room back of it is in
brown There is mission furniture—
brand new—and a few pictures, but
tb* roost Interesting thing Is the gr*cat
collection of photographs in silver
frames that line the center table and
the mantel.
These are of society people, Mr. and
Mrs French, all the other members of
the family, the Newport society girls
of the bride's eighteen years, young
men who frequent the Casino and the
j reading rooms, those that the former
Miss Julia French knew In the days
when she drove her electric runabout
and was asked out to dine and dance
every evening of the summer.
Most Interesting perhaps Is a little
frame hanging on the wall near the
door to the hall. In It are preserved
three sprays of lily of the valley, part
of a bride’s bouquet Written In a
childish hand over the browned and
faded leaves and flowers is this:
Pauline Le Roy French
Samuel Jones Wagataff
May 5, 1908.
This was a wedding In the French
TEST OF HUMAN ENDURANCE
a^oshom Imsiana Dane* for 72 Moun
at a StritcK Without a Mo
iMuri Cessation.
Ttr Shaeboet sub dance baa beet
•bo subject of ao maor proterta.'
•riles THU Stour in the Red Man
'that of recent rears tho Indiana havt
railed tt the sand dance' or ‘ball
dance.' hofiiti (o deceive Its oppo
lecia But iboucb shorn of soon
rOjertlooal features It ta still Incon
stotant oftfc the teachings of Chris
nan cirUtaatton
“It la ached tried to tabs place abou
June 22. when tbs sun baa gained It!
Liggett northern point and la preced
ad hr the gathering of the tribe a
seme selected spec A circular apact
having n radius of about forty foot li
cleared and In tho center la placed i
long, forked poet.
Tbte poet la the object of the tnoa
elaborate ceremonies, being bathed It
holy eater and being dedicated a
tosioocrated to the eon It la aup
•Med to embody tho Great Spirit ant
to contain the essence cf that Deity
sufficiently to cure all human Ills or
confer any favor Where failure oc
curs it is always attributed to some
outside influence or interference.
‘The arena encircling this sacred
post is enclosed with the Interwoven
branches of trees, and only those par
ticipating In the dance are allowed ln
, side. The dance begins with due
• ceremony it is a wild, weird and fas
cinating performance; a fanatical fan
i tasy; ao orgie in which nearly naked
and frenzied Indians, to the accompa
niment of the doleful chant of the
singers, the dull thumping of a relay
of drums and the shrill whistles of
i the dancers, for three days and nights
i tion and atonement to a long, forked
i post.
"I recently bad occasion to attend
one of these so-called sand dances.
One of the dancers, already In a weak
i ened condition from a long illnesp,
’ died the second day from the expos
ure and exertion, and be died In the
I firm belief that the performance In,
family. Miss Pauline French, an old
er sister, married young Mr- Wagstaff.
a society beau and club man. The
present Mrs. Geragnty, then a girl of
fifteen, was an attendant at her sis
ter's wedding and kept the little sou
venir of the happy day. She herself
had no attendants at her wedding ex
cept' the country people who happened
to be at Landlord Riley's little hotel
at Central Village on that bright sum
mer morning when the Rev. L. A.
Perry married the society beile to her
chauffeur sweetheart.
“Well;” laughed young Geragbty,
“how do you like it?"
Mrs. Geraghty Happy.
It was a real home, to be sure. Up
stairs Mrs. Geraghty was about her
household duties and singing as she
went.
“Oh. never mind about me,” she
laughed from upstairs, “I'm too busy.”
“The real truth Is,” said Geraghty.
half apologetically, “that Josephine of
ours is getting married and we have
to do our own work.”
It was perfectly plain that the
bridegroom was doing his share, for
he was in a sweater and old trousers,
straightening up things downstairs
while his bride worked upstairs.
The kitchen, as he led the way to
it. would delight the eye of any house
wife. The tea kettle was singing mer
rily on the stove and on the table
lay the bundles from the butcher’s for
the day'B meals.
Ham and eggs this morning,
laughed young Geraghty. “But she
sure can make coffee!"
There were lamb chops lying ready
for the deft lingers of the bride, and
a basket of potatoes. And within the
nice little ice box was the cold meat
and salad for the evening meal—like
other Newport villagers the Geraghtys
dine in the middle of the day. Out
at the villas the butlers say “Dinner
is served” at 8 p. m. But there is no
butler for the young elopers.
“Darn my socks?" he repeated.
“Sure she does. She knows how to
run a house with the best of them.
She does everything Just right She
knows how to cook, to make beds, to
sew and to wash things. We’re hav
ing great times together.”
All village Newport knows the Ger
aghtys now. They are out on the
streets very often and they go to every
"Darn my aocka?” he repeated.
"Sure, ahe does. She knows how to
run a house with the best of them.
She does everything just right. She
knows how to' cook, make beds, to
sew and to wash things. We’re hav
ing great times together.”
new show in town. Moving pictures
are their delight.
Young MrB. Geraghty's chum now la
her sister-in-law, little Miss Edith
Geraghty, daughter of the village
hackman. They walk down Thames
street of an afternoon to go to mar
ket or to see the ships that He out In
the harbor.
Dut Bellevue avenue, the Casino
and the Cliffs know her no more. She
belongs now to the village, not to
the villas.
But she Is happy.—New York
V^orld.
The Mind of Joseph Pulitzer.
When summing up the gist of any
matter declarative of his own thought
in regard to it, his speech was a les
son in diction and construction. No
essayist or pamphleteer or historical
writer but would have profited by lis
tening to him. Everything that he
himself has written or dictated shows
this clarity of expression. He would
have made a great lecturer, a great
pleader before the bar, had not journal
ism and politics in his early youth
swung him away from his legal studies
to the most exacting of all professions.
By long practice each of his secre
taries had learned to know his needs
and his methods of listening. Every
article read to him from the mag
azines, reviews and quarterlies had to
be prepared, rehearsed, marked and
deleted. Even the novels, of which he
was a voracious reader, had to be thus
condensed.—James Barnes, In Collier’s
Weekly.
Natural Result.
“What a thin voice that doctor has!1*
“I suppose it is the result of his
constant efforts at skeletons’ articula
tion.”
which he was engaged would restore
him to health. Several strong men
collapsed the third day and were car
ried from the arena. The dancers
whose physical strength enables them
to endure the terrible atraln of sev
enty-two hours continuous dancing
become heroes in the tribe and are
supposed to be rid of all ills and m's
fortunes. They are greatly envied
by the Indians whose powers of en
durance are limited, as well as by
those who lack the hardihood to en
ter the dance at all. The fact that
the dance never lacks participants Is
doubtless due as much to ttk. result
ing hero worship as to the heller in
the efficacy of the ceremony."
Rivalries.
“Why do so many musicians speak
disparagingly of lnstrumesita that play
mechanically?"
“1 don’t know," replied the gentle
man with Circassian hair. "But I
don’t see why we shonld be more gen
erous toward a mechanical instru
ment than we are toward each ot*
■t er."
wom-mir
STILL IN HARNESS AT 72
In 1891, twenty years ago. United
States Commissioner John A. Shields
of New York, then fifty-two years old,
and for thirty-seven years a federal
ofhce holder, was spoken of in a news
paper article as having held office as
long as any other public official. Re
cently Commissioner Shields celebrat
ed his seventy-second birthday, and it
found him still holding office after
fifty-seven years of service.
Commissioner Shields is the patri
arch of all federal officials. Mention
is never made of the commissioner in
print without speaking' of his whis
kers. They are snow white, silky,
long and full, and be wears them part
ed in the middle, like Lord Dundreary.
They bespeak venerability, but they
are the only symptom of age to be
found anywhere in the commissioner’s
personal neighborhood.
“I have served the government fifty
seven years,” the commissioner said
to a reporter, ana me ouiy reason
that I probably will not serve it for fifty-seven years more is that I possibly
will not live that long. If I do. however, you probably will find me still here
at the end of that time."
In April, 1855, Johnny Shields, sixteen years old, entered the govern
ment's employ as a messenger boy. He put in bis spare time studying law.
In 1869 John A. Shields, thirty years old and a member of the bar, was ap
pointed United States commissioner. In 1888, at the age of forty-nine, he
was made clerk of the United States circuit court, which office he has held
continuously ever since. Thousands upon thousands of dollars have been
received by him for the government in the ordinary routine of his office
duties, a single day's fines once amounting to over $100,000 In some railroad
rebate cases.
JUDGE WALTER BORDWELL
Judge Walter Bordwell was the pre
' siding judge in the McNamara trial
at Los Angeles, which abruptly ended
by the confession of guilt of the ac
cueed, and it was he who pronounced
the prison sentences upon the broth
ers. The judge issued a formal state
ment giving his views as to the trial
and especially what brought about its
termination. This, he said, was done
with the hope of correcting if possible
some misconceptions due to errone
ous publications.
In the first place, the judge declared,
the claim or suggestion that the ter
mination of the cases was due to the
efforts of outsiders who undertook to
influence the officers of the court—
other than the judge—was without
justification in fact. He also de
nounced the claims of a certain writ
er and of other persons for him that
the change of pleas from “not guilty”
to “guilty” was due to his efforts as
groundless. The district attorney, the
juage saia, acted entirely without regard to the outsiders and on lines de*
cided upon before the latter appeared on the scene. The district attorney,
according to Judge Bordwell. could have had James B. McNamara’s plea of
guilty long before if he had been willing to dismiss the cases against his
brother, but he refused.
“The lesson taught by the cases," Judge Bordwell concluded. "Is that
the law must be rigorously enforced against all offenders—whether they he
rich or poor, high or low, capitalists or laborers—and that only by obedience
to the law can society be maintained or its blessings enjoyed."
BRITAIN’S UNIONIST LEADER
The new leader of the Unionist par
ty in Great Britain, Arthur Bonar
Law, is first of all a business man and
has little of the politician in his make
up. While he has been in parliament
since 1900, representing a Lancashire
district, he has not taken any very
notable part in political management
and is regarded as much Inferior to
Lord Balfour, whom he replaces. In
statesmanlike grasp of public afTairs
and la political sagacity. Although
the ostensible reason for Balfour's res
ignation is given as poor health. It is
well known that he was almost forced
out of the leadership by the standpat
element, or the “last ditchers." as
they are called, which was dissatisfied
with the conduct of the fight waged
in connection with the reform of the
house of lords.
Mr. Uw is a native of New Bruns
wick and received his earlier educa
tion at Hamilton, Ont. He is now a
weanuy iron inercnaui ui uiasgow. 11
he succeeds in rehabilitating the Unionist party, succeeding where Balfour
failed, he will achieve a notable triumph," The party '.s badly rent and per
haps there Is no question upon which the various elements can agree except
opposition to Irish home rule.
His father was a clergyman. He was educated in Scotland and engaged
in the iron business ftsiGlasgow until he entered politics in 1900. From 1902
to 1906 he was parliamentary secretary of the boar.i of trade. He is a strong
protectionist.
CAPTURED SHIP CONTRACTS
Rear Admiral Francis Tiffany
Bowles proved his great enterprise
when he bid against the world for the
contract to build two mammoth battle
ships for the Argentine Republic and
walked off with the prize. The price
Is not given, hut It must be a large
sum, judging by the figures that shew
size and armament The two vessels
are the Rivadavia and the Moreno, tie
former of which is now being built at
the Bowles shipyards in Quincy, Mass.
Each boat is of that huge type which
will dwarf the battleships of the ear
lier Dreadnought class having a dis
placement of 28,000 tons, an indicated
horsepower of 39,000. and carrying 12
of the 12-inch. 12 of the G-inch and 16
of the 4-tnch guns.
Rear Admiral Bowles was for sev
eral years chief constructor of the
United States navy, until 1903, having
previously graduated from the naval
academy. He was the builder of the
original battleship Texas and the pro
tected cruiser Raleigh. He, belongs to the younger generation of great ship
designers, having only recently passed his fiftieth year. At his Quincy yards
he is engaged in ship building on a large scale, being considered one of the
^m6st eminent naval architects of the times.
Stars That Give Little Light.
Scattered through space are In
numerable stars that give forth very
little light or heat Either they were
never, at any period of thsir history,
bright and glowing like the myriad
■tara that make the midnight sky so
beautiful, or In the course of countless
ages the heat they once possessed has
radiated away from them Into the
depth of space, and now they are. as
tbeir name describes them, "dark
stars.**
No Good.
**1 don’t believe in forcing schools
for children." said Woodrow Wilson
at a dinner In Trenton. "A child that
knows at four as much as ordinarily
it would know at eight Is. to my mind,
about as useful an object as Calhgun
Clay's watch. "That’s a fine watch
you've got there. Calhoun,’ said a
friend. 'Is it a good goerr A good
goer?' said Calhoun Clay. ‘Well, yon
bet your life it's a good goer. Why. It
can do an hour in half the time!”*
IN THE GARB OF AN EMPRESS
So Gowned London’s Most Popular
Actress Becomes the Bride of
a Scotch Laird.
London.—From a little Yorkshire
lassie, playing barefooted and tousle
headed about the streets of the quaint j
English town where she was born,
to be the bride of Ian Bullough, a
Scotch land owner of a vast estate,
and holding an honored place in the
highest social circles of Great Britain
—such, in brief, has been the re
markable career of Lily Elsie. Her
ASA
real name is Elsie Cotton, but when,
at a very youthful age, she appeared
in “the provinces" as a member of a
theatrical troupe she was appropriate
ly called “Lily” by enthusiastic ad
mirers and so as “Lily Elsie” she has
since been known. Her rise is one
of the romances of the stage.
While yet in her teens she became
a favorite in London and at the time
of her marriage, which took place re
cently, was reckoned as the most
beautiful and winsome actress in all
the vast English metropolis. Natur
ally, titles and fortunes have been 1
laid at her dainty feet, but of them
all the Yorkshire Lily choose the dig
nified Scotchman. For her is pre
dieted a triumphant reign as a society
queen, for even the haughtiest of
aristocrats are forced to own her
charm.
The illustration shows Lily Elsie
clad in her wedding gown which was
copied from one worn by the famous
Empress Josephine.
CANDLESTICKS USED IN 1829
Indianapolis Woman Possesses Heir
loom Pair That Make the Antique
Searchers Envious.
Indianapolis.—Mrs. George Bolin,
639 South Delaware street. Is the pos
sessor of a pair of parlor candlesticks
that would make the eyes of the j
searcher for the antique glow with '
covetousness. They are of solid 1
glass, as clear as crystal and of per- |
feet smoothness, and weigh within a
fraction of three pounds. They are
twelve inches high and are cupped j
to hold a receptacle for candles.
Mrs. Bolin has the candlesticks as |
an heirloom. They were handed down ]
Ancient Candlesticks.
from her grandmoAer, Mrs. John B.
Crawford, Sr., late of New Albany.
Mrs. Crawford, with her husband, set
tled in New Albany in 1829 and the
candlesticks were part of their house
hold equipment. The candlesticks
were highly prized in those days and
were admired by all visitors to the
Crawford home.
Carried Needle 23 Years.
Atlantic City, N. J.—A pair of twee
zers were used by Edmund C. Gaskill,
one of the best known lawyers of the
state, to remove & needle, which for
23 years has been in his body. During
that time the piece of steel worked
its way from a knee to a shoulder,
where he discovered it while bathing
the shoulder, believing he was suffer
ing from rheumatism.
When a boy of eight years Gaskill
fell upon his mother’s sewing machine
and the needle was jabbed deep in his
knee. Doctors were unable to locate
it and he forgot all about it in a few
days. Recently he suffered from se
vere pains in his right shoulder and
the ether day discovered the cause.
Gasklll’s height of six feet eight
Inches probably is responsible for the
long time the needle remained in his
body.
Hog in Well Lives 52 Days.
Henryetta, Okla.—A hog that had
bene at the bottom ot a dry well for
52 days was found alive by John hi.
Jordan, farmer. When the animal was
pulled out by Jordan and four neigh
bors it was only a skeleton. It walked
a quarter of a mile to the barn
>
OF TRIPOLI
,} Snapshot Taken of Belle in Fete
1 The Picture Portrays a Charming Na
tive Tripolitan Girl, Who Is
One of the Country’s
Dusky Beauties.
Tripoli.—in the picture is portrayed
» charming native Tripolitan girl wear
ing a special fete dress. She is one
Df the dusky beauties of the country
now being fought for by Italy and
Turkey, and the natural pose and
grace of the subject lured the snap
shotter to the creation of a work of
art.
In Tripoli, peopled by almost every
! race under the sun, the women and
children are possessed of a high de
gree of beauty, and the place has been
called a city of romance. Pirates and
corsairs, doomed by gunboats and
modern progress to refrain from their
nefarious exploits, thronged the cafes
until the recent inroad of Italian
troops. In blue zouaves and loose,
baggy trousers, faced with brilliant
touches of gold and red embroidery,
they remain at heart untamed. The
I streets of the city are described as a
! riotous fantasy of architecture, with
i high whitewashed buildings, quaint
; projections and perforated windows,
! whence the harem ladies, themselves
I unseen, viewed the passing throng
| The shops and bazaars were numerous
and sometimes had overhead a lat
j ticed roof, densely overgrown with
1 vines. In the moving mass in the
: streets were Jews, Armenians, Su
; danese, Arabs, Turks and Bedouins.
! Donkeys nosed their way through the
clattering crowd, and beggars in pic
turesque attire appealed silently for
alms.
But the most remarkable scene was
to be witnessed every Tuesday in
what was known as the Haifa market.
There caravans used to arrive from
the south and east, and camels bearing
various products were formed into
Tripolitan Belle in Fete Dress.
Miniature camps. The bargaining and
the bartering during the early hours
of the morning were wonderful to see.
Tor from 5,000 to 10.000 persons usual
ly attended the sales. Venders could
be seen squatted behind strips of mat
ting, on which were little piles of
granges, lemons, figs, vegetables,
grain, nuts, fish, dried locusts and
other edibles, while cooks fried frit
ters in oil over basins of glowing
charcoal. But all this is now changed
Bullet, saber and shell have scattered
the peaceful inhabitants, and war’s
horrors reign where but a few weeks
igo an Oriental and langourous peo
ple pursued the even tenor of a way
to which they had been accustomed to
for centuries.
In the very center of Tripoli on*
was reminded that Rome, the uni
rersal, had been there. Here stands
i solid and ornate triumphal arch,
juilt of marble, once white, now dark
sned and defaced by time, and recent
ly scarred by the gaping marks ol
war missiles. An inscription, still
legible, records that the arch was
erected by a quaestor under the joint
reign of Lucius Aelius Verus and
Marcus Auerlius. It stands low, for
t is half buried in the accumulated
soil, and one of its portals is debased
:o the purposes of a native cooper's
shop. But its carvings still preserve
something of their ancient beauty, ami
;he structure, standing there in the
icart of an alien city and civilization
luring all these centuries, speaks of
he power and prestige of the days
jf the Caesars.
Clothe* Her Hen*.
Colorado Springs, Colo.—Mrs. E
Stocker of Colorado City, rather thaD
see her chickens, which had moulted
late in the season, suffer from the
cold, has made neatly fitting coate
which button under the wings and hae
provided the chickens with soft tian
nel caps, fastened with dainty colored
ribbons that tie under the beaks of
the fowls. The chickens strut about
apparently comfortable, and from all
indications are proud of their clothes.
Mrs. Stocker said that the hens. Just
to show their gratitude, are laying
eggs to their full capacity every day.
This Fellow Some Eater.
Lakeview, Ore.—Friends of Charles
Winkelman are anxious to back him
against any man in the United States
in a heavyweight eating contest, fol
lowing Wlnkelman’s performance
when he consumed nine pounds ot
solid rood, one glass of beer and three
of water in 58 minutes. The meal con
sisted of 32 large beef and ham sand
wiches, 16 large pickles and 16 huge
pieces of fruit cake. Winkelman is
sixty years old. He says he has eaten
16 pounds of food at one sitting.
Bites Wife's Leg; Fined 9100.
Chicago.—A fine of $100 and costs
was imposed by Municipal Judge Cav
erly upon Antonio Narsko, who was
accused of having bitten his wife,
Mary, on the left leg during a quarrel
in their home. “He attacked me and
while we were struggling he stooped
down and bit me In the leg." Mrs,
Narski told the court