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"Please don't arrest that man," she added, pointing to the driver; "he didn't mean to hurt me." So Policeman O'Reilley took the chauffeur's name and address, Henry P. Miller, 117 Walnut Street, and let him go on his way with the mail.

The policeman insisted on sending Mary to the hospital though she wasn't scratched. She had been there just one hour when she died. The hospital folk said they couldn't account for it, except by undetected internal injuries that she might have sustained.

The little girl was the daughter of John Hand, 214 East Holton Avenue. On hearing of her death the police at once began a search for Miller, the chauffeur.

Another example of this type of story that follows the chronological order instead of beginning with a summary of the facts, is the following from the New York Sun, in which it was printed at the top of a column on the first page:

Tom Flynn, a coal passer who works next to the Fort Lee Ferry over on the Jersey side, was gazing dreamily out over the Hudson early yesterday morning. Suddenly he dropped his shovel and let out a wild yell.

"Gee whiz, look Bill!" he said to his fellow worker. "There's a deer out there on the ice."

About 200 feet off shore a red doe was floating down stream, poised on a large cake of ice. Pretty soon another cake drifted along and jostled the doe's floe and she slid gracefully into the water and started for shore.

Flynn gave the alarm, and although this is not the open season in New Jersey, the game laws were disregarded and in a few minutes fifty odd deckhands, ticket takers, and commuters were engaged in a deer hunt.