Mark Twain,
The Curious Republic of Gondour…
“ OUR PRECIOUS LUNATIC [From the Buffalo Express, Saturday, May 14, 1870.] New YORK, May 10. The Richardson-McFarland jury had been out one hour and fifty minutes. A breathless silence brooded over court and auditory—a silence and a stillness so absolute, notwithstanding the vast multitude of human beings packed together there, that when some one far away among the throng under the northeast balcony cleared his throat with a smothered little cough it startled everybody uncomfortably, so distinctly did it grate upon the pulseless air. ”
