i Hr Zr
~ @he Democratic Iatchman,
4 \
VOL. 7.
BELLEFONTE, FRIDAY MORNING, DEC. 19, 1862.
gy
NO. 49.
Seluct Poetry,
UNDER THE SUN.
There are little birds in the sycamore trees,
Toiling and singing the whole day long;
Working with gladness while daylight lasts,
Cheering their labors with merry song,
There are green fields waving in wind and rain,
Telling of labor yet to be done,
Whon the grain shall be ripened aud gathered in
A golden harvest—under the sun.
Under its banks, to the restless sea
Floweth the river all clear and bright
Kissing the flowers which grow inits path *
Dancing along through the pleasant light ;
Rocking the boats on its bosom broad,
Ag into the harb thay gladly run:
Gleaming and sparkling as to the sea
Itfloweth forever down, under the sun.
There are great hearts sighing for honor and
fame,
Chasing a phantom which seems to stand
Ever before them in mockery fair,
Holding a crown inits outstretched hand
There are prisons with windows and doors all bar
red
Making dark shadows that all men shun,
While the prisonefs chained in dreary cells,
Dream of the freedom out under the sun.
Little feet wearied before the time ;
Little hands folded upon the breast ;
Bright eyes closed ere the sad tears came,
So go the little ones unto their reat.
01d men lying their strong staff down,
Close their eyes on the race all run.
Death is an angel that leads the way
Out of the shadow down under the sun.
Grave yards spread over hill and dale,
Graves far down in the deep blue sea.
Tell where our hopes and our joys lis hi
Safe in the depths of eternity.
But whether the flowers bloom over their graves
Or the waves sing over the treasure won,
Their angel look out from the heavens above,
And watoh those who love them down under the
sun.
There are pain and labor, and sin and woe,
Like dark clouds hovering over the way,
With hope and happiness shining through all,
Th sunshine making the pleasant day.
But a time will come when theoares will cease,
When we weep no more—but with work all
done
Fold gladly our hands o’er our quiet hearts,
And rest from all murmuring under the sun.
Piscellangons,
Carrie Armand.
BY C. MONTGOMBRY,
Think beloved, time can break
The spell aronnd us cast ;
Or absence from my bosom take
The memory of the past.
My love is not that silver mist,
Pron summer blooms by sunbeams kissed
To fugitives too fast ;
A fadeless flower it still retains,
The brightest of all its earlier stains.
ANONYMOUS.
Beautiful, bewitchingly beautiful thou ait,
with thy soft beautiful eyes, and golden
ty. Beautiful creature! who can describe | Avondale. She is arrayed in no cestly vel- | wildest mood, followed, admired, and ca-| extend to them the same protection, and ac- the Democra:ic press of the country has no
graceful form.
ing from her bait a white rose-bud half un-
folded.
+I will look at this when alone, and think
of the far lovelier flower,” taking it and
earnestly pressing the hand that gave it,
while those dark eyes beamed upon the
young girl with a light so eloquent with
love and truth that his heart beat with new
and undefined emotions.
« You will not forget me entirely when I
am gone, Carrie #’ said the young mao in a
sad tone.
« Forget you, Earnest !” replied the fair
girl, quickly, ‘oh, never !’
¢ Bless you, bless you, for these words,’
he answered. ‘But time flies, and the long
shadows of the trees tell me that I must de-
pert.’
¢ So soon, Earnest,’ said Oarrie Armand,
sadly. ‘But will you not sometimes think
of Avondale 2’ ‘And of tlee, Carrie,’ in
terrupted her companion.
¢ Yes ; never shall I forget the blissful
hours that I have passed in this quiet valley
and wherever I go, the vision of a beaute-
ous face will ever haunt me. Farewell Car-
rie.’
He took her hand, held it between his
own and gazed earnestly upon that sweét
face aud downcast eyes.
+ Farewell,” murmured the young girl, in
a voice scarcely audible.
¢ Adieu, sweet Avondale. Shall T never
again listen to the music of thy purl.g
old trees ¥
lips, and the next moment he was gone.
in a passionate flood of tears.
or the rustling of the winds around her 7—
avowal of love that dwelt in the hearts of
both, Gone—perhaps, forever !
the shades of night were falling, ere Carrie
arose from that damp earth, and pursued
mansion are two young girls. One is stand-
berthe of rich Brussels lace falling around
aiamonds that gleam amid the braids of her
light of those large melting eyes.
brow shaded by her little hand.
from a reverie. She lifted her head.
upper saloon.
atteation.
away to join the dancers.
up one of Struss’ most inspiring waltzes,
Round and round floated the charmed cir-
cle, and Carrie beheld the queen-like form
of Tda encircled by the arm of Earnest Fair-
fax !
dark eyes were bent upon that face radiant
in its own beauty. Poor Carre! a faint-
ness came over her as she gazed.
Yet what was Earvest Fairfax to her ?—
Maybe she was entirely forgotten.
raised her head proudly, and smiling on
Clifton Macauley$she suffered him to draw
her gently among the waltzers.
the fairy feet.
Carrie Armand sunk down upon th. earth | up-
ian marble mantle, is a sylph-like form ; her | less.
The flush upon the young girl's cheek
deepened as these praises fell upon her ear,
and with dewncast eyes passed on to the
The music again sounded,
and the floor was rapidly filled with danc-
ers,
Suddenly a familiar voice attracted her
She turned and beheld Ida led
The band struck
Her breath fanned his cheek, and hi
Many were the eyes that followed tha!
form, for the soft enchanting grace with
which she moved, fascinated the beholder.
Faster tripped
The dancers almost flew.—
Carrie saw that Ida and her partner had
withdrawn from the floor, and were stand-
10g in the recess of a deep window. She
felt that his eyes were upon her, and a thrill
- of joy pervaded her frame.
Like a Peri she moved—she scarcely
touched the floor. At last the music ceae-
stream, or linger beneath the shade of these | ed. Clifton led her to a divan, and seating |... missing man was not produced within
himself beside her,
He pressed the little hand fervently to his | brow.
Faster played the music.
¢ Carrie,’ said a sweet voice.
+ Earnest,” murmured the swete girl.
She
fanned her flushed
She looked
‘I'here stood Ida, and by her side was
Earnest Fairfax, his beautiful dark eyes bent
What cared she for the musie of birds ; | fuil upon her face.
¢ Miss Armand, Mr. Fairfax,’ said Ida, in
She withoat confessing or receiving the | her easy careless manner.
¢ Carrie,’ said that well remembered voice,
and the half extended hand was warmly
The sun had long since gone to rest, and | grasped and—retained.
RETALIATION.
Jefterson Davis has instructed the Confed-
erate commander in the Missouri Depart-
ment to demand the surrender, by the fed-
eral authorities, of Gen. McNeill, and in
case his demand is refused, to hang the first
ten federal officers that fall into his hands.
This is done to retaliate for the execution
of ten citizens of Mason county, Missouri,
by Gen. McNeill. As che demand for the
surrender of McNeill will probably be refus-
ed, we may expect to see Davis’ order car-
ried out to the letter. The circumstances
attending the act of General McNeill, which
has brought on this result, should be fully
understood by the public, as they form one
of the blackest stains upon the escutcheon
of the United States. They were recited in
the public press some time since, but the
details of the transaction were 81 horrible
that few were willing to credit them, and all
who cared for the honor of our country, or
its claim to civilization, were shocked and
mortified. It is true, however, that a few
blood thirsty Abolitionists gloated over the
deed with a ferocious glee such as a canm-
bal might exhibit at the sight of the fast eb-
bing life blood of his fallen vietim.
A Union man of Marion county dieap-
peared very suddenly from his home, and
his friends were unable to obtain any clue
to his whereabouts, Thereupon General
M:Neill caused the arrest of ten secession-
ists of the same county, and announced that
t
a given time, the ten prironers would bo
shot. The time expired without bringing
the missing man. General McNeill proceed-
ed to carry out his flendish threat. The
ten citizens were taken out to a vacant lot,
placed on their knees besides their coffins,
a platoon of soldiers drawn up in front, and |
the terrible tragedy was enacted. To add
to the horror of the sceue, the soldiers did
their work go bunglingly that only four or
five of the victims wero killed at the first
fire The officers rushed forward and de-
She replied not, and he continued. ‘Once rpatched the balance with their revolvers.
her way homeward. Earnest was gone ;— | more do I behold the little valley of Avon-
and he: bright and blissful dream was over. | dale, and the leafy boughs of that old syo-| i poen certainly ascertained to this day,
. amore. Oh! Carrie, have you forgotton oy vor the missi ts dead or Hiving.
In the splendid dreseing room of a ecity | that bright autumn ?' WHSLIST 136 MW SS\LE IAN 8 de 8
Clifton and his sister exchanged glances,
+ Will you dance, Carrie ’ raid Earnest
ing with her delicate loveliness ; while the | ers.
Clifton Macauley stood apart from the
He turned from her, and his gaze fell with
that living intelligence that compels the be- | yet, or sparkling jewels ; but a garment of | ressed by all.
holder to look ! to recolles
dreams. And iu the distin
thee in the visions of the 1
and find thee gone, thou:
the wcmory.
the day
To wake
fixed forever in
sweetness in thy countenance—a mystery
in the profound sensibility of thy nature,
that fascinates beyond measure.
gossamer floats about her form. and wreaths
amid her golden curls.
a softer, more subdued light beams in her
before.
Dear Carrie Armand !
Carrie Armand cared but for the homage | the citizens of the other States of the Union, | first the fury of the mob destroyed and
3 to soe | of bright leaves and snow buds are twined | of one fond, trusting heart. Ids Mcauley | yf they were indeed guilty of murder, they scattered with untrammelod iberty, then
would have scores of worshippers at her|ghould have had an impartial trial, and |Céme the damps, vermin and horrors of the
She is as beautiful, as child-like as ever ; | feet. .
Morning had dawned in the grey east ere
Sweet Carrie Armand, thou art & being to | oye, while her manners were more gentle, | the cousins sought the pillow.
worship and to love. There is & dreamy |and perhaps somewhat more pensive than |dresm of new conquests and golden tinted | gible general, Whose thirt for human blood | raving mobs. and bidding the villians cease
prospects of a eplendid future ; the other to | far exceeds his love for the LAWS that
dream of her home, sweet Avondale, with its | po pretends to fight for,—Carbon Demo-
. « How beautiful you are, sweet cousin !’| purling streams, its singing birds and—| c.g,
Art thou gay ! thy beautiful eyes are fill- | gqiq she, as she gazed on the dazaling love- | Earnest !
ed with brightness—thy beautiful counte-
nance becomes radiant with smiles—thy
flows as does light from the sun, imparting
to all around its genial warmth, Truly
thou art the Lily of Avondale, thy bright
valley home ; and never fairer lily lifted its
sweet head beside mea:dering stream, or in
secluded glen. Come with me to the shade
of that forest, that waves its leafy bowers
in the summer breezes.
Leaning against the huge trunk of a tow-
ering sycamore, is Carrie Armand. The
playful zephyrs are nestling amid her soft
curls, and coquetting with the wreath of
bright autumn leaves that bind them from
off her brow. -
Her white robe of fleecy muslin falls in
graceful folds around a form of the most per-
fect symmetry, and a straw Wat, with its
@lken strings of cerulean blue, hangs upon
her round arm. A faint rose color gleams
apon her cheek, and the beautiful boquet of
wild flowers she has gathered, is spangling
the earta with a variety of soft lovely hues,
torn in apparent unconsciousness by that
fair hand.
Befed her stands a young man of some
three sol twenty. He is possessed of a
slight but elegant figure ; and there is a
world of melancholly beauty in that pale
face, with those dark, lustrous eyes, end
warble brow.
One by one the delicate petals fall to the
ground.
*Why Carrie! Why do you spoil that
exquisite boquett that you so care ully eall-
ed? May I keep this, Carrie ¥’ said the
young man, a8 he gathered the torn and
scattered leaves, and piaced them in his bo
som.
o Ob, they are tern and faded—you shall
have somelhing prettier,’ she replied, tak-
liness of [da Macauley.
brew.
witching ‘oveliness will win hearts to-night;
fastidious brother has owned its power—
flower ! loves thee, with a devotion of which
I thought his cold nature incapable.’
rie Armand.
him.’
Ida Macauley marked not the blanched
cheek of the trembling girl tc whom she
was so gaily speaking, but throwing her
rich furs around, they descended to the
drawing room where Olifton was awaiting
them.
They entered the carriage. The blinds
were closely drawn to exclude the frost air,
and they rolled away to a scene of mirth and
revelry.
The magnificent saloons of Mr. Crafton
presented gn appearance of unusual gaity
and elegance. Every part of the vast apart-
ments was bathed, 8s it were, in a flood of
roseat spienddr. A band of music poured
forth continued strains of most enchanting
harmony, and the air was laden with the in-
cense of a thousand flowers of every hue.
The dancing had cessed for & moment, as
Clifton, his sister and Carrie Armand enter-
ed the saloons.
Every eye was turned upon them, but the
reigning belle of the last two seasons passed
unnoticed, as her cousin moved gracefully
along.
¢ Who is she ¥ who is she ?’ passed from
lip to lip.
¢ Beautiful divine !” whispered the gentle-
men.
‘I can never be aught to
for even Clifton Macauley, my own haughty | guard thy slumbers.
The last rays of the setting sun are
and he loves thee, Carrie, my sweet, wild | streaming with all their effulgence through
the stained windows of the little chapel at
Avondale, and resting lovingly upon the
i On, say not 0, dear Ida," gasped Oar- [sunny tresses of the fair being at the altar.
Her white veil floats like a white mist around
her form, clad in snowy robes, and the
bright wreaths of autumn leaves have given
place to dewy orange blossoms.
By her side is a noble and familiar figure
and he meets the love look of those gentle
eyes with joy unutterable. Holy words hov-
er upon the tongue of the white robed priest,
soft responses come from the lips of those
to whom he has spoken, and sweet Carrie
Armand, the Lily of Avondale, was the
bride of Earaest Fairfax. i
How, long years before they had stood
The young creature turned from that gild- | beneath the old seyamore, on that bright
thrilling voice is turned to the highest mirth, | ed mirror, and twining her arms about the [autumn day, when the sun shone, and the
while the gladness that fills thy heart, over- | speaker, pressed a kiss upon her stainless | winds gently kissed the leaves. How he
w placed in his bosom her parting gift, that he
¢ Darling Carrie,’ she murmured, ‘thy |since guarded so precjously.
May the angels
Sleep on, sweet one.
77 An honest Dutchman, training ap hi
son in the way he should go, frequently ex-
ercised bim in Bible lessons. On one ooca-
sion he asked him :
¢ Who vos dat vot would not shleep mit
Botipher’s vife ** .
¢ Joseph.’
« Dat’s a good boy. Vell, vot vos de rea-
son 7’
¢ Don’t know ; spose he vogat shleepy.’
177“ When rigged out in my best clothes,’
said a laboring man, “I am like a pond cov-
ered with weeds—very well to look at but
fis for no useful purpose.”
07” Why is a milkman like Pharoah’s
daughter 7 Because he takes & little, profit
out of the water.
Yet it was not known at the time, nor has
He might torn up to-morrow for aught that
is known to the contrary. Under these ef-
ing before the full length mirrer, sarveying | Ho arose, and drawing her arm within bis{ otances the act of General McNeill was
her form, attired fer an evening party. She [own, ‘hey turned away. But their depart- simply a wanton and bloody murder, of
is very beautiful, and there is a certain high- | ure was not noticed by either Earnest Fair.
bred air visiblein every movement of her | fax or Carric Armand The hours wore on for the rebels to retaliate, the federal au-
—midnight came. Those brilliant 8traivs | 4 orities ought to have arrested McNeill and
Mer robe of pale blue velvet, with its |of music were at their height.
wholesale proportions. Instead of waiting
tried him for murder before a drum-head
court, and —hung him too. If the President
the sloping shoulders, is in admirable kecp- | Fairfax ! and they glided among the waltz-| should even go so far as to respond to the | against the constitution and the Union and
rebel demand by the surrender of McNeill, | publie liberty.
the act would scarcely be more than just.—
dark hair, upon her arching neck and pol- | gay revelers, in moudy silence, watching | The inhabitants of Missouri, however, are|eay that the Union must be restored, that
ished arms, are not more brilliant than the | every movement of Carrie Armand. He| pot amenable to the rebel jurisdiction, and| peace shall not be made on any other terms
bad loved the swect girl, with a wild pas-| ho dewand is ‘‘out of order.” If the ten | that foreign intervention cannot be permit-
Leaning against the elegantly carved Ital- | sionate love, but a love he knew was hope- | ajtizens killed by McNeill had been in the |ted ; that the war is to restore the Union;
She was but a bright vision that] service of the rebel confederacy, the case | that State sovereignties shall be observed ;
: ) The low | crossed his path to leave it gloomier than be | might have been different. As it is, they |and that a dictatorship shall not be estab-
How shall I describe thee, Carrie Armand? | silvery chimes of a French clock awoke her | fore.
were peaceful citizens of a State which is
now, as it alwayshas been, an sally and
We have seen that sunny face before, on |a brother's pride, on the beauteous Ids, who | member of the United States. Hence the
curls clustering round a face of angelic beau- | g bright autumn day, in the old woods of | seemed that night to be in her gayest and | federal government was in duty bound to|in Which abolition tyrants treat and outrage
cord them the same privileges enjoyed by
should have been judged upon the evidence
and not sent off on the long road to eternity
One to} ypon the order of an obscure and irrespon-
Ra A.
ELECTION OF DE. E. B. OLDS,
Dr. Olds was, on Tuesday, elected a Mem-
ber of the Ohio Legislature, by the invinei-
ble Democracy of Fairfield county, receiving
the extraordinary majority of two thousand
five hundred, This is one of the most sig-
nificant results that we have had the pleas-
ure to announce since these perilous and
troublous times camo to afflict the people of
this country,
The Doctor was illegally and unwarranta-
bly arrested at the midnight hour, and for-
cibly removed from the State of Ohio to Fort
Lafayette, now one of the Bastiles of this
administration. There he has been incar-
cerated for four months in & damp and filthy
cell, not knowing what charges have been
preferred against him, nor who his cowardly
accusers are. His repeated demands to be
put on trial have been persistently disre-
garded ; and he is still in prison, or was a
few days ago.
Now the loyal people of his own county,
have cast for him by far the largest majority
for Representative, ever before given there.
a | The result 18 a condemnation, expressed in
thunder tones, of the whole system of arhi-
trary and illegal arrests. His malicious and
cowardly assmlants and persecutors had not
even the moral courage to run one of their
own persuasion sgainst him. This fact gives
the immense vote poled a still greater sig-
nificance. There 1sn't room anough in all
the Government Bastiles throughout the
country, to coutain'even the Fairfleld county
«gympathizers’’ with Dr. Olds.—Coiumbus
(0.) Statesman.
lp Al BA ——
{I= An old ninid, who bas her eyes a lit-
tle sideways on watrimony, says—‘‘ The’
curse of this war is, that it will make many
widows, who will be forced to get married,
snd who will know how to do it. Modest
gitls will stand go ¢hance at all.”
LOOK AT THIS.
The following resolutions were offered in
Congress last week by Vallaudigham and at
once tabled by Republicans :
Resolved, That the Union as it was must
‘be restored and maintained one and undi-
visible forever under the constitution as it is
and the fifth article providing for amend-
ments included.
Resolved, That if any person in the civil
or military service of the Uaited States shall
hereafter propose terms of peace, or accept
or adviee the acceptance of any such terms
or any other basis than the integrity of the
federal Union, and of the several States com-
prising the same, snd the Territories of the
Union, as at the beginning of the present
civil war, hs will be guilty of a high crime
Resolvéd, That the Government can nev-
er permit the iutervention of any foreign na-
tion in regard to this present civil war,
Resolved, That the unhappy civil war in
which we are engaged was waged in the
beginning professedly, not in any spirit of
oppression, or for any putpose of conquest
or subjugation, or for the purpose of over-
throwing or mnterferring with the rights of
the established institutions of the States,
but to defend aud maintain the supremacy
of the Constitution and to preserve the Un-
ion with all the equality and rights of the
several States unimpaired, and was so un-
derstood and accepted by the people. and
especially by the army and navy of the
United States ; and that therefore. whose
ever shall attempt to perv!
war of conquest end subj
overthrow or 1 i
of established
States to abolish a
purpose of desir g or impairing the
nity, tqoaiity = }
will be guilty of au ach of pubae
faith and fa ie wgawst the cen-
stitutioe and tue Union,
Resolved, That whoever shall propose by
federal authority to extinguish any of the
States of this Union, or to declare any of
them extinguished and to establish territo-
rial governments within the same, will be
guilty of & high crime against the constitu-
tion and the Union.
Resolved, That whoever shail affirm that
1t is competent for this House or any other
authority to establish a dictatorship in the
United States. thereby supercceding or sus-
pending the constitutional authorities of the
Union, and shall proceed to make any
movement towards the declaring of a dicta-
torship, shall be guilty of a high crime
So the Republicans in Congress refuse to
lished ! So we g¥. —Ez.
Licenss ror NewspAPerS,—The manner
Bastile. But against thise outrages the
people protested, aye, resented with high
indignation, forcing back the prison bolts,
their anlawful and violent work. The
phrenzied fanatics still feel and dread the
power of the Demecratic press, and, not-
withstanding the people have commanded
otherwise, they are inventing new obstrue-
tion to embarrass and burden it. They no
longer seek to reek their enmity upon it by
barborous and eruel acts, but have adopted
the more civilized plan of purloinery and il-
legal exaction, The following from the
Columbus Crisis is an example of the modus
operandi !
¢ We learn that one of Lincoln's tax col-
lector’s called on one of the sountry editors
of Ohio, and demunded of him to pay =
manufacturer’s license, which is fifty dol-
lars! The jickass who holds the position
of tax collector in thst distric should be
sent to Barnum for a show.
» Reasons- the editor of whom this de-
mand was made, prints 8 Democratic pa-
per.”
The idiot collector’s course was undoubt-
edly obedient to ““orders” from the ‘‘depart- |
meet.’ — Lewisburg Argus.
re AR A re
0" The following is said to have passed |
in a school down east :
+ What is the most northern town in the
—
1a North Pole?
| Wien you sigops, you screich your shins
sir ¥
* What is the meaning of the word carve?
¢ 1 don’t know, sir.’
¢« What does your father do when he site
down at the table 7’
, He axes for the brandy bottle.’
« [ don't mean that, Well, then, what
does your mother do whem she sits down a
the table 2’
«She says she will ring our necks if we
gpill any grease.’
(5* Modesty in woman is like color on
her cheekg—~deoidedly becoming if mot pu
on.
?
w
London Connecticut, in 17—, and set a price
on the head of Gov. Griswold, the lacter fled
to the gown of L
Mrs. Marvin, hid him for some days, ina
secluded farm house.
subtle foe discoveted his fetréat,
sunny afternoon in May, he was routed from
his hiding place by the tidings that & band
of horseman were opproaching to ocspture
him.
His only chance of escape was to reach
the mouth of a little creek which emptied
itself into the Connecticut river, jast above
the entrance of the latter into Long 1sland
Sound. .There he had a boat
with two fait.ful attendants hidden beneath
the high banks of the creek. The distance
from the farm house to the boat was two
wiles by the usual traveled road. But a
little sheep path aercss the farmer's orchard
would bring him to the road only a mile
from the boat, and save a quarter's length
of his fearful run for his life.
Just where the narrow path from the or
chard opened into the road, Hetty Marvin
sat with her dog Towzer.
Thus sat Hetty Marvin, the young daugh-
ter of Gov. Griswold's cousin, when her hun-
ted friend sprang past her iuto the read, to
escape his pursuers.
child of about twelve years; yet thought-
fu! and wise beyond many of hor eldess
ernor’s notice and suggested a scheme to
delude his pursuers.
earnestly, ‘I am flying for my life,’and un-
less 1 can reach my boat before 1 am over-
taken, I am » lost man*
forks here. Now I want you to run down
this way to the river. But you must tel!
the rascals who are chasing me that I have
gone up the road to catch the mail wagon,
which will soon be along you know
they will turn oft the other way.’
‘Oh cousin,’ said the little girl, in
agony of distress, ‘T cannot tell a lie; in |
dard 1 cannot.
which way you were going ?
« Hetty, my child, surely you would not
betray me to death,
ing , I hear the click of their horses frot.—
Oh! Hetty, tell them | have gone up the
road instead of down ; and heaven will bles
youd’
* Heaven never blesses thoss who speak
falsely cousin.
which way you go, evenif they kil! m6; so
1un quickly as possible,’
*1t’s no use; unless I can decieve them, 1
am a dead man.’
¢ Cousin, cousin, hide under my web of
cloth, they'd never think of looking here for
you, Come get down as swift a8 you can.
and I'll cover you, and stand sprinkling my
parallel in ancient or modern history. At | linen.’
‘It'smy only chance, child; I'll get
down as you say.’
to the word, the Governor was soon hidden
under the ample folds of tke cloth.
Angry thet their expected prey had es-
caped from the house where they hoped to
secure him, the six mounted tories, headed
by a British officer, dashed along the road
‘n swift pursuit.
girl in the meadow, the leader of the party
paused,
¢ Child,’ he said sternly, * have you seen
a man running away hereabouts ?’
¢ Yes sir,” replied Hetty, trembling and
blushing.
¢ Which way did he go ¥’
£1
« But you must or take the cchaequen.
ces.’
«I 8aid T wouldn't tell if you killed mo,’
sobbed the frightened girl.
‘I'll have it out of Rer,’ exclaimed the
furious officer with an'cath.
¢ Let me speak to her,” said his tory
guide; ‘I know the child, I believe.
your name lletty Marvin ¢' he asked pleas
antly.
¢ Yes air.’
¢ And this man who ran by you, was
your mother’s cousin wasn't he 1’
¢ Yes sir, he was.’
« Well, we are friends of his.
he say to’ you when he came alung ¥
¢ Ho—he told me—that he was flying tor
his life.’
* Just go, Hatty ; that was very true. |
States §° hot
tiny smosth speech , 80 she answered her
questioner candidly : My cousin said he
was going down this way to the river, where
he had a beat ; and he wanted me to tell
the men that were chasing him, that he had
gone the other way to catch the mail wag-
on.
¢ Why didn’t you do a8 he bid you, then,
when I asked you where he had gone?
thundered the officer fiercely.
+I could not tell a lie sir.” was the tearful
answer.
+ Hetty,” again began the smooth tongued
tory. ‘you are a mies child,
kwows you are a girl of truth. What did
Hetty Marvin.
hen the British snd tories attacked New
, where his cousin.
But at length the
and one
stationed.
Hetty was a timid
your cousin say when you told him you
cguldn’t tell a falsehood ¥'
* He said he shouldn't think I'd betray
him to his death.
~ « And then you promised him that you
wouldn’t tell which way he went, if you was
killed for it 7’
‘Yes #ir”’
¢ That was & brave speech ; and so I sup-
pUse, he thanked you for it, and ran down
the resd as quiekly as possible ¥
¢ I promised rot to tell where he weat
sir.’
¢Oh! yes I forgot. Well tell us his laet
words, and we won't trouble you any more,’
‘His last words were, ‘* it's my only
chance child, snd T'll getjdown, as you say.’
And overcome by the (right, aud the senss
of her kinsman's danger should they right-
fully interpret the language which she had
reported, she sobbed aloud, and hid her face
from sight.
Her tormenters did net stay any longer
to sooth or question her. They had got as
they supposed, the information whish they
wanted, and pushed on rapidly down the
river. Now, ths Governor, had arranged a
signal with his boatman, that a white
cloth by day, or a light at night. displayed
from the attic window of his hiding-place,
which was just visible at ths mouth of the
creek, should inform them if he were in
trouble, and put ther: upon the alert lo help
ACT
abign- | 4
LAL ning to bark
i situps.
© wise forethought arrested the Gov-
* Hetty,” he said
You sce the round
Then
an
Why did yom tell me
Hark ! they are com-
But I will not tel! them
And suiting the action
At the sight of the little
promised not to tell sir.’
Isn't
What did
he won't haveto fly far. Where was
gto try tokide ? You sae |
1 knew me pisns.’
w tact wawnos& whit deceived by
Everybody
|
LO sca.
him. As soon. therefore, az he started for
b's a! floa‘ed from {he win-
And when they saw
ish madly down toward
snd nized the British uni-
ie {eugier, they puiled gwiftly ont
The horsemen reached the shore
only in Sezson to see the boat, with two
men 1t, nearly out of sight, and supposiag
their prey had escaped, relinquished the
pursuit. Meanwhils the hunted victi;a lay
safeand quiet where his little cousin hed
hidden him, until the time cams for her re-
turn to the house for supper. Then he
vade her go as usual to her home, telling
her to ask her mother to place the signal
lamp, a8 soon a8 it grew dark, in the win-
dow for the boatraen, and to send him ther®
some supper, with his valise, which, in the
harry of departure he had left behind:
The signal recalled the boat, which after
twilight had ventured in sight of the shore
and the farm-house; and the Governad
quickly made hie way to the river in safety.
When he rejoined bis father in & secure
home, he named his infant deughter which
had been born in his absence, ** Hetty Mar-
vin,” that he might be daily remindad eof
the little cousin who had saved his life.
mt
S18 gous!
A TInr.—* Dear mother,” said a delicate
little girl, *“L have broken your china vase.
** Well, you are, a, naughty, careless,
troublesome little thing, always in mischief;
go up stairs until I send for you,”
And this a Christian mother’s answer ta
the tearfal little culprit, who had struggled
with and conquered temptation to tell a
falsehood to screen a fault. With dissap-
pointed d'sheartened looks, the child obey-
ed ; and at that moment was crushed in her
little heart the sweet flower of truth, per-
haps never again in years to be revived to
to life. Oh, what were 8 thousand vases in
comparison ?
EN LG aA...
IA country youth having sn unéle fiv-
ing in town, resolved to pay bim a visis;
and accordingly started off oie morning and
arrived at his uncle's Bouse just as supper
was ready. Being very hungry from his
long walk. he had uo’ soonor got seated at
the table than hs comnenced a furious om-
slaught on the éatables right and left,
‘Hold on sir,” aaid his uncle. who was &
pious man, ‘we always say something be-
fore we ost,’
‘Say what you have a mind to,” answer-
ed the boy between two mouthfuls, ‘you
can’t tura my stomach.’
eM QA ernst
Waar 1s MAN ?—Chemically speaking, a
man is forty-five pounds of carbon and nitro-
gen diffused through five and a half pails-
fal of water.
Waar 18 Woaax ?—Woman 18 one hun-
dred peunds of man, two pounds of silk, ten
pounds of cotton, and one pound of whale-
bone, with an indefinite amount of fuss and
feathers, and the remainder in hoops.
Tre GBAVE,—1¢ buries every error, ocov-
ers every defect, extinguizhes every resent-
ment. From its peaceful bosom spring
none but tender reco lections. Whe can
look dewn upon the grave of an ensmy snd
not feel a compunctious throe that he
should have warred with the poor handful
of earth that lies mouldering before him?
§7Two persons who have choses each
| other out of all the species, with design te
be each other's uiutual comfort and enter-
tainment, have in that vory action, bound
themselves to be good humored, affable joy-
fal foagiving and patient with respect to
each others frailties and imperfections to the
end of their lives.
aera —
07 «I say, Pat, what are you about ;
sweeping the room ?"” *No,”” answered
Pat, “I am sweeping tho diri.”
e——— A QP ts.
[7 The timid man trembles before danger
—the coward during it—the brave man
when it 18 over.
v
fg What the people say, don’t believe
balay
what the papers say, belisve.
kL