Ry column. He rushed into the office of the paper and cried out to the editor: "Look here, sur, what do you mean by this? You have published two columns and a half of my obituary, and here I am as large as life!" The editor looked up and coolly said, "Sur, I am vury sorry, I reckon there is a mistake some place, but it kean't be helped. You are killed by the _Jersey Eagle_, you are to the world buried. We nevur correct anything, and we nevur apologise in Amurrican papers." "That won't do for me, sur. My wife's in tears; my friends are laughing at me; my business will be ruined,--you _must_ apologise." "No, si--ree, an Amurrican editor nevur apologises." "Well, sur, I'll take the law on you right away. I'm off to my attorney." "Wait one minute, sur--just one minute. You are a re-nowned and popular citizen: the _Jersey Eagle_ has killed you--for that I am vury, vury sorry, and to show you my respect I will to-morrow find room for you--in the births column." Now do not let any editor imagine these pages are my professional obituary,--my autobiography. If by mistake he does, then let him place me immediately in their births column. I am in my forties, and there is quite time for me to prepare and publish two more volumes of my "Confessions" from my first to my second birth, and many other things, before I am fifty. [Illustration: Faithfully yours Harry Furniss] LONDON, 1901. [The Author begs to acknowledge his indebtedness to the Proprietors and the Editor of _Punch_, the Proprietors of the _Magazine of Art_, the _Graphic_, the _Illustrated London News_, _English Illustrated Magazine_, _Cornhill Magazine_, _Harper's Magazine_, _Westminster Gazette_, _St. James' Gazette_, the _British Weekly_ and the _Sporting Times_ for their kindness in allowing him to reproduce extracts and pictures in these volumes.] CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. CONFESSIONS OF MY
