VOLU3IE 56.
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[Written expressly for the Bedford Gazelle.]
WILHELM'S MP:
A LEGEND OF OLD FORT BEDFORD.
BY A PLOWMAN.
Where, or whaf, is Wilhelm's Gap ? Who
knows ? The ignorance- of its locality, the
scene of a faithful Jove, even in our midst,
goes to show how easily a second or third gen
eration, or strangers to the "manor," forget the
places made memorable by the dangers, the dif
ficulties and the trials of those early pio
neers whose axes opened and whose trustv rifles
made habitable, the luxuriant fields, which,
now, support a dense population. Yes, sum
mer flowers bloom and fade, grass grows green,
and autumn leaves fall thickly, upon the little
mounds, where the chirp of the squirrel is still
heard, and the hollow- tapping of the wood
pecker, the hoarse croak of the raven, or tne
incessant caw, caw, caw, of the crow and
busy feel press the ground, unmindful that hu
man bones lie mouldering there ; or, that the
graves of buried hopes are in every hillock.—
Then the land was the abode [of the Red-man
and of the beasts of the chase, who held a joint
possession ; these, the srnoke and hum of an
advanced civilization, have supplanted.
During one of the long winter evenings,
when the horses were fed and bedded ; the cat
tle-racks stuffed full of hay ; the -beep housed ;
the pigs penned up ;. and wood enough in tfie
chimney corner to feed the crackling fire for
the night, I seated myself beside its cheerful
blaze, to examine some old deeds and old pat
ents, which had fallen into my hand*. 1 have
an antiquarian turn,'and delight in old thing>, 1
(except old maidsand old bachelors,} Isuppose j
because lam old myself, and once had an old i
coat which had grown white in service, and an i
old horse, whose teeth were worn down to j
the slumps fiom the length of time they hail i
been in action ; 1 had, too, in my possession,
once upon a time, long, long ago, a half cent,
grown green from age, of which a v ri'.able
crone declared oracularly, that if I always
carried it about me, I would never be without
money ;. and,truer than most modern prophe
cies was it ; for, as long as I carried it in tile
bottom of my pockel, ] was never without that
half cent at least, though it would not lay the
egg which was to be hatched into more half
pennies, Again in after years, I collected
eight old copper coins, which were carefully
kept in a soda powder box, until my g r and
children, discovering the hidden treasury
coaxed tliem from me to buy ginger nuls. On
these ancient possessions, which have long sine*-
"gone the way of ail flesh," I set great store,
and if the facts Jdo not establish my claim lo
the title, antiquarian, I have only to say, "the,
proofs are all in, arid here I rest my case."—
Well, one of these old patents reads as follows :
**Said land was surveyed to E M
in pursuance ola warrant, dated Feb. 2filh,
1787, and includes Wilktlm'i Gap , in Bi-dlurd
county."
IVilfielni's Gap, in Bedford county ! where is
it? for hereby "hangs a tale !"
There is a mountain ridge, rising up from
the Juniata, adjoining the boiough of Bedfjrd,
and extending Northward to Dunning's creek,
near which it, (the ridge aforesaid) draws itself
backwards to the East, and stretching out its
great arms, receives into its boson, and shelters
there, a piece of beautiful, heavily timbered
levef land, having an open and extensive pros
pect to the Westward.
Within the Gap thus formed, lived Wilhelm
Van Bergen and his fair daughter Mlifeline.—
Wilhelm, like many others, coming to the new
land, stopped at the good city of the Quakeis,
where the mother of Madeline, having finished
her earthly journey ings, left her orphan daugh
ter to the care of her father. A Iter the loss of
his wife, Wilhelm, in order to mend his world
ly estate, joined a company of pioneers-, who
Were pushing westward to seek their fortunes.
Around Foi Bedford, they pitched their tents. 1
Here he remained for a time, and until his [
daughter was grown almost to woman's estate ; :
when lie determined to settle at a distance in
the coun'ry BO as to remove hpr from tbeassoci- j
Ation* within the fort, from the example which
tba tense what lax moral discipline of a frontier
Poat, would render dangerous to her inexperi
om. For, without a mother's watchful guar*
dianship and prudent advice, as the world wags,
■ t is a critical tune, that budding into womau
nood, for one beautiful as she knew she was,
'"aving been told so eve:y dav. Hot, brought
jp amid privations and dangers, Madeline's fa
culties v. ere fully developed in all that, then
constituted excellence in woman ; besides
she could load and fire her rifle a,- we || as any
man about the tort, and could bring down a
deer in its rapid course with as uneiring an aim
as the mast skilful hunter in the province. She
was brave and daring, endowed with an unusu
al degree ol courage and presence of mind, and
had seen too many red-skins to be easily fright
ened at the sight of a tomahawk or scalping
knil'e. Ttiough she did not like to leave the
protection of the fort, yet she would not suffer
her fathei to go out into the forests aione; for
site had always his faithful companion and
was, besides, an obedient and dutiful daughter.
Moreover she had a lover there, near to whom
she would have preferred to remain ; but when
duty called, like many another noble woman,
she sacrificed self to that duty. She knew too
well the risks her father run in his design to
live without the protection of the blockhouse,
a.ol when danger threatened, she must be be
side hitn to share it. There are many noble
women now, too, as good, and better,than was
Madeline ; but, where there is one equal, in
faithlo! devotion to duty, to the women of
"those days days which tried men's soul-," and
women's hearis and souls too, there are just six,
(the number has been carefully calculated.) who
are i,.,t worth the powder that would send a
quarter ounce bullet through a red-skin's
scalp!
With the assistance of the settlers the logs
were soon cut down and trimmed ; a log cabin,
the palace of the pioneer, erected, and Wiihelm
and his daughter took up their residence in the
sequestered nook which has ever since borne
the name, "Wilhelm's Gap."' It was a de
lightful spot, surrounded by the majestic oak,
• 'he silvpr-h-aM) maple, while in the hack
ground, thedaik, evergreen foliage of the pine
tree, lose up against the Eastern skv, casting
over it a protecting shadow. They soon had
their lilt le patch cleared and planted with corn
and vegetables, such as (hey would need, de
pending upon their rifles for their meat. Tliev
aiways went out to hunt together, for jdvan
cing civnt'-firdi i R d refinement ha-i not jet
taught the women of that day how vulgar it
was to aid their lathers or husbands in the eve
ry day labours of life. She was heathen e
nough to he able to cook his meals, to knit and
darn his stockings, make anil mend his shiils,
sew the buttons on and \va f h them, and to do
many little tilings ot a similar sort, which
are now permitted to he mentioned only in the
kitchen,(they had no kitchens then: that is
tiie reason 1 suppose.) or at the millinery shops,
and these were scarce. *
Things went on swimmingly in the gap for a
time. Father and daughter rich in each other's
love, fjr \V ilhelm love,! his daughter, not onlv
for herself, but for the sake of her dear mother,
whose image was yet as bright in his weather
beaten heart, as the day when lie first called het
his own. Often he thought that, in the hour
of danger, her spirit hovered near them as their
Angel ; for their many escapes were
to him otherwise inexplicable.
Though the settlers had been startled at the
recent murder, by the Indians, of' Glass, whose
bones std! whiten an adjoining field, yet \Vil
helm an i Madeline were unmolested. They
weie under the protection of a chief named
.Vlukiindwa, (pillager, as the name is translated.)
This chief used to often come to the f>rt when
IVilhelm was there, and being captivated by
the beauty ol Madeline, loved her with all the
energy ot his uncultivated nature. She did not
then dream of the passion with which she had
inspired him ; but, in the Gap, his visits became
so frequent, and his admiration so marked, that
a modern belle, with all he refinement of the
beau monde, would hardly be expected to ig
nore it. Madeline was a simple child, and,
when a man made love to her with his eyes
and actions, every thing but words, she could
not help understanding it. If she had had the
advantage of amodern hoarding school education,
her intellect would have been belter tiained.
Nothing slioit of, "wiil you have me, pretty
maid," would have made her wide awake.
The discovery of Mukundwa's love, caused
Madeline no little uneasiness. She loved Ed
ward Shippen, the gallrut young soldier, hun
ter, and farmer, by turns, and had promised to
wed tiim whenever her father would give his
consent. Now, that she was an ohjr-ct ot love
to this chief whose passion she knew opposition
would only inflame, maybe cause him to use
violence to obtain possession of her if he could
not do BO "otherwise, she had good reason to
dread the future. What would that future be ?
Death, likely to her father and lover, perhaps
to herself! The fate of Glass was fresh in her
memory.
Often to the sensitive, nprvous, temperament,
the temperament of all who are eminently good
BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY MOUSING, APIIIL 6, 1800.
, I and noble, there whispeis in the silent hours
iof the night, a siil! s:r.a! 1 voice, whence it
, I comes we know not, warning at an approach
ing calamity. From the depths of her heart
Ma! el ine sent up her prayers to her heavenly
lather, tu avert it. She was neither too proud
nor too fashionable to pray. No, she had by
her dead mother's lu;ee, learned to pray, and
at the dawn and close of each day, she repealed
j on bended knee, the little child-prayers site had
• hus learned, and often besides during the day.
At home or in the forest, these early pioneers
1 had to offer up their petitions. There were no
j churches then where the people could, having
donned their holy day attire, come up at stutej
: periods to pray, giving to their God one seventh
ior less, of their time and thoughts ; but these
were the great templrs, not made 'with hands
whic.r he himself had reared, whose arches
were liie loototool of his omnipotence arid whose
columns the giant hills, born centuries ago.—
Here the humble worslii, pets, feeling that their
whole dependence was on his watchful care, had
j daily ana hourly need to turn their thoughts to
him with sincerity and truth.
Fully aw are ol the danger which hovered
j around her, Maaeiine endeavored to avoid
Mukundwa—to show hiin if possible, by her
acts, that his admiration was displeasing toiler,
i She did not dare to tell her father of it, lor,
though a good, he was a passionate man, and it
the past were known to him lie would not hes
; itate to forbid the chief ever seeing her again.
Her eflorts to avoid, only hastened the caias
! trophe, for Mukundwa, seeing that she avoid*d
him, and fV-ai ing she might escape from him,
determined to have her at once. He demanded
! her from VVilheim with tr.oie impetuosity than
| modern lovrrs would use when tlmy a.-lt I'a,
particularly if there was the contingency of a
big pocket foil of cash hanging on the ans
wei.
VVilheim was confounded at the assurance of
the savage, and a thousand little acts, the
bringing olchoice pieces of venison, fish, game
corn ; the special protection afforded himself
and daughter, from ail other Indians ; ali these
flashing suddenly across his mind, bewildered
him because ol his hitherto blindness. But
calmly as he could he told Mukundwa she
could never become the squaw of a forest chief
but must wed a pale face. The chief m a rag**,.
demanded that she lie delivered to bi*i atv~~~
threatening vengeance on both it he was refu
sed. lie had protected them hitherto, and pre
vented their falling victims to the resentment
of his brethren—they wouid feel that he could
punish as well as protect. But Wilhelm, ta
king down his rifle liom its pegs, ordered the
savage to depart at once, promising that i;
would be used if ever he came within its reach
again. With muttered curses, for even an un
tutored savage could cuise, Mukundwa glided
into the forest and disappeared.
The threats which lie uttered, w*>re heard
by Madeline and she knew they vreie no idle
words. When Edward Shippen came to the
Gap next day, and was informed of the facts,
his entreaties were joined with hers to induce
Wilhelm to return to the fori, and thus avoid
llie danger to which they were now too certain
ly exposed. He refused to leav ihe little crops
he had planted and which were growing finely,
trusting to his well known courage, and his rifle;
and again, because the beauties of the ever
varying landscape, the sombre arches, the fa
miliar presence of the denizens of the f>rest ;
I lie budding beauties of the spring, with ill ■ songs
of the hiids, and the golden hues of autumn
inspired hiin with an attachment to the solitude
of his home pven stronger than seems now lelt
for the homes of civilization. It was his own
where lie enjoyed a freedom which knew no
bounds. Everything around, spoke ol peace to
hi 3 wearied heait. Here were no petty jeal
ousies, no rankiing animosities, no envy, no
calumny, the handmaidens of modern refine
ment and modern intelligence. With the sweet
smile of his beautiful daughter, shedding light
upon his pathway, and her cheerful compan
ionship, to while awav the loneliness ot his re
tirement, is it wonderful that he should refuse
to leave it ? or that his dislike to depart from it
should delude him into the belief, that with his
trutv rifie and the logs of his cabin for a breast
work, lie was more than a match for his foe, if
foe his former friend had become. He had,
hovvc-ver, to deal with a man more wary than
himself, whose well earned name of pillager,
proved him 100 cautious to risk an open attack
ant! whose wits were doubly sharpened by dis
appointment, and a thirst fur revenge.
Two months had passed, since Mukundwa
i had been either seen or heard of. Wilhelm
I was certain that he had gone to return no more.
One evening, just as he and Madeline had sea
ted themselves at their frugal meal, Mukundwa
suddenly entered the cabin, having with hiin a
saddle of venison as in former friendly times.—
At Ins rrque-d, Madeline was soon at work broil
ing some of the delicious steaks, which the
; chief cut off for her. The three sat down to
j enjny them together, as if no shadow had ever
passed between them ; for, though surprised at
i bu sudden reappearance, both father and daugb-
Freedom of Thought and Opinion.
judged it more prudent to show no evidence
of it. Scarcely, however, had they finished ea
' tno, when a shrill whi.-lle from the chief,
brought three stalwart savages into the cabin
at a bound, and so suddenly, that neither Wil
hH:n or Madeline could offer the least possible
resistance. They were seized and bound se
curely almost in a moment. With their arms
tied behind them with thongs of deer skin, thev
were led out of the cabin which was, in a few
moments, enveloped in llames. This was done
with a view to conceal tfie fact that its firmer
inmates were alive ;as it would, most likely,
T-e supposed that they had been murdered and
their bodies burned wills their residence. Such
| was the usual result of an Indian attack. As
soon as the cabin was reduced to a pile of coals
, Mukundwaand his companions with
; fheir captives, took up their line of march to
join their tribe West of the mountains, where
they had removed the year before.
On Ih is night, the brigiit glare from the burn
ing of Wilhelir.'s cabin, had illumined the sky
northward of fort, where it was distinctly seen.
Edward Shipped saw it, and judged correctly,
that it was in the direction of the home of his
betrothed, inay.be that home, and herself and
father prisoners in the hands ot the revengeful
savages, perhaps murdered by them. The ag
ony of suspense which he endured during that
long night cannot be described. Brave even to
rashne>, he entreated to be permitted a
lone to their rescue, or at least to learn the
cause of the conflagration. The discipline ol
the Fort forbade that any one should leave af
ter it had been closed for tfie night, unlil the
regular hour in the morning. As soon as the
bolls were drawn, armed with his rifle and an
abundance of amunition for any emergency,
and his keen hunting knife in his belt, lie, w.th
rapid strides hurried around to the Gap, As
lie stood a moment among the pine trees which
darkened the woods on the hill above, he
strained his eves to catch a glimpse of the cab
in. He saw only its smoking embers. Had
Mukundwa been near at that moment, lie might
have easily made another prisoner, for that
strong man, overcome by the thought of what
lie had lost, grew weak as a child. Hastening
dbwn as well as he could he s-aiched for the
tokens which were to assure liiin that Madeline
* ' i> r father were alive.
Stie and mi . - ....
Jv'Tti*
kundwa would return, and from their experience
of Indian character,judging what would be the
result of that leturn, they had endeavoured to
prevail on Wilhelm to remove to the Fort ; as
we have seen, they failed to alter bis determi
nation to lemain in the lorest, and Madeline
loved her lather, her only nurse and companion
from tiie years of her childhood, too well to
leave him in such an emergency : besides, it she
were absent and her fatiier alone, he might be
murdered from pure revenge. All that could
be done was to provide for the worst. She and
£ |ward prepared two little sticks, around the
one end of each of which, thev tied a small
piece ol brown clotil. If their home should be
attacked and burned, and both father and daugh
ter were alive ami in tiie hands of Mukundwa,
then, the two sticks were to be dropped ar near
to the cabin as possible, so that he might find
them. It the father was murdered, one of the
sticks was to be stripped of its clntb. for mre
than an tiour, did Eiward hunt t>r the tokens
agreed upon, of the safety of her in whose life
his was bound tip; and, while disappointed, he
circled round, looking beneath every chip and
leaf, many a diretul threat of vengeance against
everv red-skin who might come within the
range of his rifle, escaped Ins lips. Worn down
with anxiety, almost despairing, the far that
Madeline had been murdered and burned, crept
around his heart closer and closer: —colder and
colder ; amid the agony of his grief, his dimr.ed
eyes wondered to the ruins of tiie home in which
he had spent many a iianpy hour with Made
inehy his side, her loved hand resting confi
dingly in his ; would he ever see her lace again!
As Ins eyes wandered back again to the ground
at his feet, they rested upon something between
two maplesapiings a tew yards from where he
i stood. With a bound he sprang forward and
there were the two sticks with the cloth wrap
! ped around both, iust as he had last seen tiiein.
Madeline and her lather were alive—now for
(lie trail and death to Mukundwa, for Edward
was determined alone to rescue the dear ones or
| perish in the attempt. Could you have seen
him, as he strode forward to hunt that (mil, you
would not think that man's sinewy limbs could
; be weak as limy were a lew moments ago.
Madeline had provided many small pieces
;of the same brown cloth, which, from their
colour ami size, would attiact no eye but Lo
ward's,to be dropped along the trail as chance
oflered. These were intended to guide him
aright, and without loss of time. Tiie Indians,
when they desired to baffle pursuit, were in the
habit of making several trails, also of covering
the main trail with leaves or grass, or of trav
eling as long as possible beds of small streams;
thus they would mislead their pursuers and gain,
I limp. They resorted to the same stratagem in
this instance and had gained the summit of the
mountain before they relaxed watchful
ness. Expecting no further necessity for cau
tion, from !he conviction that no white man
could tiack them so iar, until they had advan
ced days beyond the reach of any pursuer, they
ielt a wide trail. All their precautions however
were of no avail,for they had to cope with an
experienced woodsman, and a woman's wit
sharpened by being torn from him she loved and
in tianger horn hiin she hated. The little strips
of cloth were angel me.-sengeis, bearing glad ti
dings to Elvvard of her whom he so eagetly
sought. He easily found the right trail as in
dicated by these tokens ; when it diverged or
was concealed, the pieces of cloth guided him
like a thread through the labyrinth of the wil
derness.
!• our whole days he followed it and he knew
by the ashes of their camp fires, which he had
passed, that he had gained on the lugitives so
that lie must now be near them, and caution
became douuly necessary. Every night he
had climbed into a tree and slept among ils
branches, thus resting himself from the fatigues
of his lonely and rapid march, so as to husband
all his strength for the ' our wnen it would be
needed. On the night o! the fifth day, he had
mounted to his bed among the thick and wide
spreading blanches of a giant oak, only a. few
yards removed Irom the edge of a steep bank,
near to which, in the valley below, flowed the
waters of the picturesque Loyalhanna* The
night had set in dark and threatening, and he
j
was in no hurry to sleep, fur he .eSrpected a
drenched skin before morning.
While planning how fjt--hotild actio case
he came in sight of and his party
on the morrow, recalling aiNie knew oflndian
sliatagem and Indian his attention
was suddenly arrested at the sight ola feebie
blaze of a fire just buijt, struggling through the
brushwood not many hundred yards in advance
of turn and close by the stream. Faster and
faster it bounded upward crackling through the
dry twigs ; higher and higher, wider and wider,
it gleamed until its broad light revealed the
outlines ot the forms of six persons ; four were
reclining and two attending to the fire, evident
ly getting ready the evening meal. Presently
one of tjiose who had been restingon the ground,
ways a ", d changing side
the face of his beloved Madeline. "God in
Heaven, (here they are; aid me now to save
them!" His joy and anxiety rendered him un
fit either to act or think. Give the high met
tled steed, when he is startle!, the rein for a
while; let him run, in a little while he will
quiet down anil be gentle and tractable again.
Soon Edward regained his accustomed
composure ot mind and confidence in himself,
in the presence of danger. Judging the dis
tance that the fire was from him, he found that
it was beyond the range of his rifle and that he
must contrive to get vet nearer. To do so and
vet to not alarm the Indians, became a vital ne
cessity. It he should be discovered, all would
be lost. Descending carefully to the ground,
he proceeded, with a step as stealthy as a pan
ther's, forward to another heavy branched tree,
which the light of the fire revealed to him a lit
tle farther away from the bank and about a
hundred yards from the party. The darkness
and the wind blew ing pretty loudly, and crack
ing the dead branches around, favoured him, and
any noise he might have made was attributed-to
this. He was" soon in his watch-tower with
rifle in hand and prepared lor whatever might
happen. Faithful and trusty companion in ma
ny a chase, and many a bloody skirmish, fail
lum not now !
He hid not been long in his resting place
when he saw that which made his blood boil
and nerved his arm for the terribie vengeance
that he was about to inflict. Mukundwa stool
belore Wilhelm with Madeline in his arms,
taunting him, while she was struggling to free
herself from his caresses. Wilhelm must have
said something to him which roused his savage
ire ; for, dropping her from his arms like a hot
shot, the fearful tomahawk whirled round his
head and was dashed at the brain of his hapless
victim. But it fell short of ils mark, for, whiz
zing through the air, a well aimed bu'.iet from
Edward's rifle, went crashing through the sava
ge's skull and he tumbled back ward, dead, into
the darkness. Consternation sat on the faces of
the three remaining Indians, lor the death had
fallen where they little expected, and Wilhelm
and Madeline could scarce prevent a shout of
joy which rose up in their very throats and had
to be gulped down again; for, as a mother
knows the voice of her own child even in the
din of a thousand child voices, so they knew
the ring of E I ward's rifle, for many a time before
had they heard its music. It spoke to them
now of a speedy delivery. While two of the
Indians rushed out to search the woods for the
cause of this unexpected attack, the other re
mained to guard the prisoners. His watch was
not so strict, for be was constantly peering into
V.'lior,*: ATHIJEK, 2896.
Ibe darkness after his companions, but that
Madeline who had been unbound as soon as the
march commenced from Wiihelm's cabin, riraw
i"'* tier hunting knife from her bosom, where
, ue always carried it prepared for any emer
j gcndj-, noiselessly severed the thongs which
| bound her father's arms. Benumbed as he was
j hope drove the blood and r.erve power through
him like an electric charge : he seized the tom
ahawk of Mukundwa hich had fallen so nerr
iirr, ai d u e.. nigh caused his death, and conceal
ei 11 bt " hmd him read >* 'or the moment of ac
tion, which he felt must be near. Soon the two
—>u!s returned, for they ban found nothing, no,
it was not light enough to find tracks or see
men up trees; nor if it had been did they think
of such a thing. They did not see the powder
i ash and the wind hid carried away its smok".
After a hurried consultation, one of them be 2 an
!o extinguish the fire which had enabled "the
marksman to take so sure an aim. But scarce
had he seized the second brand, ere he followed
h.s clue/ (o the Indian hunting grounds beyorol
the g,ave ; for. the clear .ing of that fatal mes
senger of death thai never missed its mark, start
led the wild deer and the owls Irom their coverts.
The two remaining Indians, turning their backs
to (heir prisoners, for (hey feared no danger
Irom them, looked intently into the darkn°es3
whence the sound had proceeded, trying to dis
cover its cause. While they stood t!i il paral
yzed with fear, ar.d unceitain which way to
lurr, Madeline, brave as her lover, with a
strong right arnt plunged.her keei: knife into
the side of the Indian next-htr, up to the han
dle, while Wilhelovs tomahawk- went down
-.i.c igh tae skul! of the.other even.fo-tbe neck.
W hen he had discharged his fast spof, EJ
ward hastily descended to the gtdund
as he ran down the he feared that the
n'rnain i g^a Agbt turn upon and
murder ;iie %s> t® cause uf the death"
ui their prevent it-*-
1 o lose a:! vWcrTuif gained, there., was m id
ness in the thought.' face two stalwart sav-
J c es desperate now, was no fight enter-
Pise. He coula shoot one, but the other might
master hi*n in fhe moment pi success ; and Wil
helm, bound as he was, could not aid bim.
But brave men do not stop to weigh pros and
cons, when danger is before them. Onward
he hastened : but, what was his astonishment to
find the fiefd already won.' EtfwarJ! Alarte
while thelHTßlnfl 4 TfiA,his Jbosam.
the necks of his f wo children, and they mingled
their tears of joy together, (for their foes "lay
dead around tliem,) tears, gushing up from the
full spring of their glad hearts. And there be
side that tamp hre in the wilderness, they knelt
down together, the father and his two children,
to thank God for their deliverance!
Within ten das WiiheJm, Edward and
Madeline, arrived safely at the fort, and great
were the rejoicings on their return, for they
had been given up for lost. E-Jward had won
his bride as few, even in those days, could have
do ie, and Wilhelm gladly placed her hopes on
earth, may be in Heaven, in his keeping, bles
sing him with a father's blessing.
They lived close by the fort, from that time
forth, Wiihelm going out in the day time to
cultivate liis little patch of ground, though he
never rebuilt his cabin. The war of the Rev
olution soon alter this, broke out. Wilhelm and
Edward, after many a hard fought field fell,
with their faces fo the foe, at Brandy wine, and
they sleep their long last sleep in the grave
\ arrl of the oU church there, where fell many
a brave man on that bloody day. Madeline
did not long survive them, she sleeps beside
her fatfier, and in the same grave with her hus
band, faithful in life and i.i death !
A fair young giri is leaning pensively on
the casement, gazing with thoughtful brow" up
on the scene below. The bloom of fifteen sum
mers tints her cheeks ; the sweets of a thou
sand flowers are gathered upon her rosy hps
and tall upon her neck of perfect grace ; the
soft swimming eyes seem ligtited by the ten
derest fires of poetry, and'beauty hovers over
her own most favored child. What are her
thoughts ? Love cannot stir a bosom so young ;
sorrow cannot vet have chosen her for its own.
Alas! has disappointment touched that youth
ful heart ? Yes, it must be so ; but hist ! she
-tarts—her lips part— sh- speaks—listen !
"Jim, j,on na-tv tool! Q lit scratching that
pig's back, or I'll tell marm."
ELECTION OF COUNTY SUPCK INTENDENTS.—
The triennial elections for County Superin
tendents of I tie Common Schools, take place in
the several counties of the State on the first
Monday in May next. The Jaw provides that
these elecSions shall b- held at the county seat
of each county: and we call the attention of
Directors to the fact, that merely a maj>rity of
the Duectors in Convention lor the purpose of
election is required, and not a majority of the
Directors of the county.
the middle of geography, stand up.
"What's a pyramid ?"—"A pile of men in a
circus one on top of the other." "Where's
Egypt 7 " —"Where it allers was." "Where is
Wales?" "All over the sea."—"Very weil;
stay there till 1 show you a spcciej of birch
, well known in this country."
VOL. 3.K0.36.