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sttert ;11 getrg.
INDIAN SUMMER..
There is a time, fast when the frost
Prepares to pave old Winter's way,
When Autumn, in a reverie lost,
The mellow day-time dreams away;
When Summer comes, in musing mind,
To gaze onco more on hill and dell,
To mark how many sheaves they bind,
And see if all are ripened well.
With balmy breath.she whispers low;
The dying flowers look up and give
Their sweetest incense ere they go,
For her who made their beauties live.
Sho enters 'noath the woodland's shade,
Her zephyrs lift the lingering sheaf,
And bear it gently where are laid
The loved and lost ones of its grief.
At last Old Antumn, rising, takes
Again his sceptre and his throne,
With boisterous hand the tree ho shakes
Intent on gathering all his own.
Sweet Summer sighing, flies the plain,
And waiting Winter, gaunt and grim,
Sees miser Autumn hoard his grain,
And smiles to think it's all for him.
an Original 't.crrn..
THE OLD MAN'S STORY.
A. TALE OF LEWIS THE ROBBER.
BY GAY
CHAPTER I
Long ago, there stood a little log cottage,
near a certain road, leading across the Alla
ghenies,l Cottage! yes, log cottage, or hut,
just as you make it ; for, although it was too
dihipiilated looking to be honored by the beau
tifut,narne of "cottage," it also had too much
the appearance of neatness and order, to de
serve-the name of hut.
It stood in the centre of a plot of ground,
comprising two acres, which field was en
closed by a fence, made of poles partly trim
med ; added to this, were several other little
fields, seeining to have been cleared and fenced,
just as the owner found leisure. You could
see that great pains had been taken by him,
to.: clear his - little fields of sprouts, yet his
labor seemed of no avail, they -would shoot
out from the chestnut stumps, " slowly but
surely, in. spite of Fate." The house stood
in a peculiar place, and,fiorn the manner in
which everything about it was arranged, one
could not help but think the proprietors just
as-peculiar ; a large white gate bisected a
fence running parallel with the road. It was
through this gate visitors (if they ever had
any,) found, ingress to the house. A little
barn graced the premises, built of logs pro
miscuously joined together with hickory
wither and wooden pins, built, if anything,
on the same plan as the house ; a rickety
shed ran out in front, affording shelter to a
horse, cow, and several pigs - these, together
with a hound and huge wolf-dog, made up
the sum total of domestic animals, the con
tinual howling and barking of the latter,
made the deep wallies and caverns of the
mountains resound with a prolonged rever
bration.
Whether 'the tenants of the little valley
were made to suit it, or the valley to suit them,
I think proper to withhold my opinion, at
any rate you can best imagine it, by suppos
ing yourself to stand in the inside of a vast
canoe, one-fourth of a mile in breadth, mid
way between the prow and stern ; now look
towards the prow, those high ridges running
at right angles with the road, form the sides,
and that high peak at the extremity of the
valley, a mile off, and into which the ridges
appear to run, forms the prow ; and then the
extremities of those ridges near where we
now stand,,are so, similar, around each the
road appears to wind so abruptly, and to
have the same turn, both in passing and re
passing, we hardly observe the little valley
until we approach its very centre.
Let us math: to the cottage ; we push back
the swinging gate, traverse half the breadth
of the little field, and stand at the door ;
great stone chimney, some almost unhewn
logs, compose the house; but that which gives
it a taint of sweetness, a touch of wild ro
mance is the ivy. It clings to the rude walls,
encircles the door-posts, runs over the clap
board roof of the white-washed porch, and
falls in long beautiful matted festoons to the
ground. We enter the house ; we stand on
an uneven, but white floor. A bright fire is
burning on a great hearth, casting light
enough-to see that the only occupants are an
agecli-1 'Onan-and a boy, whose looks indicate
an age .not,gippler than sixteen. The furni
ture is easily told, four chairs, bed, pine ta
ble, two benches, and a clock with weights
attached to cords reaching almost to the floor;
the. skeleton hands show that it is about to
strike eight. The boy is reclining on a bench
near the fire, and as he gazes into the bright
flames, his imagination generates wild fan
tastic forms of men and things seeming to
come from the bright" red coals, follow the
the blaze, linger for an instant, then disap
pear up the chimney. He speaks.
Mother,are yeti sure he'll sell the house ?"
" I can't say," she answered mournfully,
" when he was here you know, he said he
would have his money, if he should take all
we had; if your father had lived, he might
have borrowed enough to make up the five
hundred ; but to think that he could have a
heart so' hard, as to sell all we have, and
turn us out. into the world, without a shelter
over our heads, it's too bad, too 'bad l" and
hiding her face with her hands, she weeps ;
she remained in this posture till roused by
the low,' hoarse growling of the dogs on the
porch ; first scarcely audible, then loud, fierce
yells, as if in the act of springing. " Run,
Girt, quick, there is some one there," the
boy hastened to the door;
peering into the
darkness; he 'discerns two travelers standing
a few steps from the hotiSe; the great deg with
erect hair, and ehoWing his long, white teeth,
as he 'Walks back and forth, warns them to
stop ; the 'hound -has taken his seat' a'short
diste.neelrom hie superior, resting his body
$1 50
76
50
on his fore legs, and looking at the strangers,
his loud howling is borne far over the echo
ing hills, clear as the" note of a bugle. The
boy after scolding "the dogs away, conducts
them to the door; as they enter let us observe
them. The first is a tall, well-formed man,
dark hair and eyes, rather sober countenance,
and has a cat-like walk ; but the most singu
lar feature about him, is his long arms.—
Why, if he were standing, erect, and place
them by his sides, his hands would certainly
reach below his knees. The other is a pow
erful looking man, low, heavy set, broad
shoulders, deep breast, sandy hair, grey eyes,
and features expressive of a cunning mind.
The former after glancing hurriedly around
the room, addressed the woman in a com
manding, though gentle voice :
" My good woman, we are travelers, tired
and hungry, and as it's full ten miles to the
next tavern, if you will give us something to
eat, and allow us to pass the night under
your roof, besides paying well, we will be
deeply indebted to you."
The old woman brushed away the tears
that were still glistening on her cheeks, and
in a trembling voice, she answered:
"Ah ! sir, all we have in the house is a
crock of milk, a bag of meal, and some veni
son ; when these are done, God only knows
where the next are to come from ; but such
as we have, I'll cheerfully set before you,
trusting to him who careth for the widow and
orphan, and permits not even a sparrow to
fall to the ground without his knowledge."
" It matters not what it is, anything is ac
ceptable to a weary traveler."
"Without giving a reply, she rose from her
seat, opened a little closet door, took from
thence a piece of venison, placed it on the
coals, mixed some meal, and after placing it
on the fire also, busied herself in setting out
the table, and soon invited her guests to par
take of. their humble supper. The tall man
who appeared to act as speaker, had observed
when he came in, that she was weeping; he
remarked :
"Not wishing to be inquisitive, allow me
to ask if you've had any trouble recently ?"
" Alas 1 sir, it's only two weeks since my
husband died. While he was living he man
aged to support us with his dogs and gun,
besides what he raised on our little farm.—
Although his death leaves us destitute enough,
yet if that was all, I would not despair, for
my boy is as skilful with the rifle as his
father was, and between us, we could man
age the little farm. But to heighten my af
fliction, my husband had involved himself in
trouble before he died, by bailing a friend;
and Mr. Sims, the person to whom the money
should have been paid, was here to-day, and
being angry and out of patience, said he
could wait no longer, and next week he would
send the Sheriff to sell off our property to the
amount of the bond, and if it could be sold,
he would take our little home—our only means
of subsistence—for the debt."
"Did you say his name was Sims?"
" Yes, sir. Sims is the gentleman's name
to whom we owe the money."
lie then observed to his companion in an
under tone :
" Con, do you recollect Mr. Sims ?"
" Guess Ido ; my memory ain't quite so
bad as to forgit him already."...,
Mrs. Waters, for that was the woman's
name, over hearing this reply, asked—
" Are you acquainted with him ?"
" Only slight acquaintance—just met him
in the road once."
" Interduced ourselves," added the other,
with a ,huckle, and a meaning look at his
companion.
Their supper being finished, and after sta
ting that they wished to resume their journey
by four o'clock in the morning, the boy lit a
piece of pine, and showed them their bed on
the upper floor. After mother and son had
in vain tried to solve the mystery as to whom
the strangers were, &e., &c., and without com
ing to any conclusion that was satisfactory,
the bright embers on the earth were covered
with ashes, and they, too, retired for the
night, the boy to dream of game and his rifle,
and the mother to weep herself to sleep. The
strangers were up in the morning, had fin
ished their breakfast, and were ready to start
at the appointed hour. Before leaving, the
tall man said to Mrs. Waters :
" My good woman, as a recompense for the
night's lodging, I will give you enough money
to pay off that debt ; tell me how much it is,
though people speak differently of me, yet
do I say truly, that I can never leave any one
in misery, while I have the power to assist.
It is something that was impressed on my
youthful mind by a dear mother," as he
spoke, his voice grew hoarse. She was about
to remonstrate, but without giving her time,
to reply, be continued, " I'll hear no refusal,
as to that, you can take it as a loan, and if
you or your son ever become able to pay it,
you can do it, and if not, I am satisfied to
lose it; for the present, I have more than I
need."
" Indeed, sir, I do not see how we can
ever pay you, and—"
But waving his hand impatiently, he in
rupted her—
" I have already told you I am satisfied
then to lose it; at any rate, you might as
well be in my debt, as that of this Mr. Sims,"
then taking from his pocket a wallet bloated
with gold, he added, " how much is the
debt ?"
"Five hundred dollars, but my husband
had laid up nearly two hundred, and if you
will lend me the money—"
Without heeding the latter part of her an
swer, he threw fifty eagles on the table, again
interrupting her with—
" When is the sale ?"
Not waiting to see the tears of the widow,
whose heart was too full for utterance, yet
conscious of a good deed, he bade her adieu,
joined his companion, and the two, with hur
ried steps, disappeared around the ridge.—
Girt watched their retreating forms until
they appeared like shadows in the misty
dawn, and 'after they were hidden from his
gaze, he rejoined his mother.
" Mother," said he, " wasn't that a kind
man ?t I wonder if it wasn't Lewis, the rob
ber ? You know father used to say ho was
WILLIAH LEWIS,
VOL. XV.
c` On next Wednesday afternoon."
so good-hearted, and you know he said be
Was such a bold robber, and that one could
always tell him, because his hands reached
below his knees, and that man had the long
est arms that ever I did see."
" Hush I hush ! it's some kind gentleman,
who, as he says, can't see any one in misery
without assisting, and then he's too generous,
too noble-hearted, to be any one whose hand
is against every man's."
Girt, though not satisfied in his mind, as
to that, offered no reply, but turning round,
boy-like, he seized Wolf by the ears, dragged
him off the porch, and then 'ran towards the
barn, chased by his trusty, yet playful
friend.
Girt was right—the stranger was Lewis.
At the base of a towering cliff, forming a
side of a deep and dark ravine, in one of the
seven mountains, a cavern may be seen. So
closely is it concealed from the eye by the
hanging rocks, dwarfish trees and vines,
which hide its opening, that it is scarcely
visible at all, although one may be within a
few feet of it; and then not until we raise
the - wild briars, push back the matted under
brush, do we behold an entrance sufficiently
large to admit the form of a man. As we
advance, we see that in some places the cav
ern is at least twenty feet wide, at others,
huge rocks jut out from either side, nearly
blockading the way. The top or arch is com
posed of irregular masses of rock, and from
the manner in which they are arranged, one
cannot behold them without a shudder, al
though they have been for ages in the same
detached-like order, yet the very idea of stand
ing beneath those immense fragments of ap
parently loose rocks, causes a chilly sensation
to pervade the bones, and the blood to flow
less freely. And as we advance farther, the
torch casts a flickering light along the gloomy
sides, making the darkness ahead appear
denser still. Long stalactites hanging from
the dripping arch, sparkle like so many bril
liants. 'We hear the trinkling of water, the
sound appearing to come from the extremity
of the cavern opposite the place of ingress.
But, come along, fear nothing, and we will
traverse the long avenue of the cavern. We
have now walked the distance of twenty-five
steps, and find that it turns abruptly to the
right, and here terminates in a large room,
whose top, sides and bottom, are all free from
moisture. Strange as it may seem, at the
time of which I speak, the cave was inhabi
ted. Here and there through this room un
der the mountain, could be seen provisions,
such as dried beef, venison, &c. Also, clothes
of different cuts, rifles, pistols, and several
other murderous weapons, with accoutrements
for hunting, pouches, powder-flasks, &e., all
lying carelessly around, or placed in niches
in the rock. Two men are sitting by a fire
that is burning brightly on a rude hearth,
formed of three flat stones. The smoke re
volves in great wreaths, circling around the
high cavern, and then escaping through crev
ices in the rock, caused by some terrible con
vulsion of nature, ages before, that had split
the hard rock to the very summit of the
mountain. The smoke slowly ascends through
these interstices until reaching the pine-clad
tops, is blended with the pure air of Heaven
almost invisible.
We want no more than a glance to recog
nize the men before us. They are the same
who, a few days ago, way-worn and hungry,
were entertained so kindly at the cottage of
the poor widow. Listen—
" I tell you, Connally, nothing can change
me. I will go. He'll leave the house some
time in the afternoon, and if I don't overhaul
him and get my money, my name's not Lew
, ~
"But the or chap doesn't travel 'thout
shootin' irens. Anyhow, who knows how
many he'll have with him."
" For the first time in the five years we've
been together, you've turned coward. Stay
then, in the cave, if you will ; but that mon
ey, as I said before, I'll have though I die for
it; and if the old extortioner don't turn pale
when he sees these muzzles, he'll be the first
man." As he spoke, he drew a brace of long
double-barrelled Derringer's from a belt con
cealed by his vest, which, after carefully ex
amining, he replaced again.
" Coward, or no coward, I saved your life
once ; for had'nt I struck away that fellow's
arm when he had his horse pistol at your
head, I don't doubt much but 'fore this, you'd
a been rafted across that black river in the
other world, which or Oko told us about."
" Yes, you did, Con, and I thank you for
it. It's a debt I know I can never pay.—
What I have said, please forgive. I said it
almost unknowingly."
"Yes, Captain, sartinly, as often as you ax
it," he said, extending his rough hand to
Lewis. He then added, "but somehow, Cap
tain, I'd rather not go this time ; a sort
of a bad dream, anyhow."
" Well, if you don't wish to go, I won't in
sist; I suppose I'll return in two or three days,
if everything turns out right."
" I hope so, Captain, I hope so," he said,
as he puffed away at a long stemmed pipe
which he held between his teeth.
Lewis lights a torch, and leaving his com
panion in the room, traverses the long, gloomy
entrance until arriving at the light of day,
he throws down the faggots, pushes back the
vines, and placing his hands upon the rock,
springs lightly up the steep ascent, and once
more stands in the light of day. lie is greet
ed by the resplendent rays of the morning
sun, the gay carols of the many birds flutter
ing from bough to bough, the chattering of
squirrels, everything happy, even Nature her
self, as she casts the radiance of her smiles
through the green veil of Spring, "happy as
the merry peals of a marriage bell." •
As Lewis worked his way down the ravine,
he muttered, "that cave's awful gloomy ;
there's nothing like light, nothing like light;
yes," be mused after a pause, "and in another
sense of the word too," he now strikes a path
which, after traveling about half a mile,
brings him to a little field that has lately been
cleared. Crossing this, he comes to a miser
able hovel, he knocks loudly at the door, cal
ling "Oko hello, Oko 1 get up, Oko 1 Oko !"
HUNTINGDON, PA., NOVEMBER 9, 1859.
CHAPTER IL
THE CAVE OF LEWIS
---PERSEVERE.---
There is a noise within, and a voice not un
like the growl of a wild beast—
" All right, Captain, all right, I was up
'fore light this mornin, spectin you here. I
fed Draco, put the saddle on him, an he's jist
stanin' in the stable waitin' on ye, he! he!"
" Very well, put those saddle-bags on the
saddle and bring him out, as I wish to be a
drover for two or three days." Oko started
for the stable, which was situated a stone's
throw from the hut, he-heing, and muttering
something to himself. He soon returned
leading a beautiful horse, all black from mane
te , tail—black and glistening as a raven.—
Lewis leaped upon' his back and rode away
saying, "Now Draco, for the Alleghenies."
We are once more at the cottage of the
widow. There is a contrast between the
present and previous visit. Before, all was
silent, save the barking of the dogs, or the
answering howl of wolves, or the solemn
hooting of the lone owl, which, from some
tall pine, would break the stillness of night,
with his unearthly hoo hoo! hoo 1 seeming
to be an omen of dread from a spirit of evil.
Now, at least a dozen men can be seen about
the premises, all appearing to be particularly
interested in the property of the widow. The
greater part of the persons present have ri
fles, and some are dressed as hunters. Indeed,
hunting shirt, belt, leggins, and a cap made
of the skin of some animal, appear to be most
prevalent. One group is standing by the
gate near the road, talking very earnestly
about something, but as it don't concern us,
we'll pass on. One of this party observes
two horsemen approaching, and said
" There comes the Sheriff and old Sims !"
" Yes, there they come," added another,
and continued, "I did'nt think any man was
quite as mean as old Sims ; but take my word
for it, if he does sell these things, the little
money he gets won't do him much good.—
For my part, I would'nt bid on a hate, if
they were the only things in the world."
The horsemen drew up in front of the gate,
dismounted, hitched their horses to the fence,
and walked towards the cottage, which, hav
ing entered, Mrs. Waters politely requested
them to be seated, and then made known to
the Sheriff, that through the kindness of an
unexpected friend, she was able to satisfy the
claim of Mr. Sims. Saying this, she placed
the morky in the hand of the officer, who
gave it to Sims, telling him to write a receipt.
He then passed out and made known to the
persons assembled, that there would be no
sale, as the debt was paid.
As the greedy eyes of Arthur Sims viewed
the bright, yellow gold, his miserly heart
fairly yearned for more. Clutching the ac
cursed metal, the cause of so much sorrow
and misery, with the grasp of a drowning
man, he counted it over, tied it up carefully
in an old leathern purse, and placed it in an
inside pocket of his coat. Half an hour af
terwards the Sheriff and Sims took their de
parture.
The road, after passing round the ridge,
lead through a deep hollow. On either side
of the way, great hemlocks stretched out their
drooping arms, occasionally forming arches,
through which the rays of the sun seldom, if
ever entered. For miles the tall laurel and
hazel were matted and twined with a variety
of vines, so dark and dense, that one could
scarcely see ten feet from the road. A little
rivulet could be heard murmuring through
this gloomy place, which, after following the
road for a mile or so, turned off obliquely,
leaving it lonely as the grave. The sun was
sinking behind the mountains, as the Sheriff
and Sims entered the hollow. Riding leis
urely along, they bad just arrived at the
gloomiest part ; they shuddered at the sound
of the horses feet ; they were about to quick
en their pace, when they heard a rustling of
the leaves on one side of the road, then the
bushes were bent aside, and a man sprang
out before them. They grasped their weap
ons, but he, leveling a brace of double-bar
relled pistols, said :
" Gentlemen, if you value your lives, stop.
Down with that pistol," said he, addressing
Sims, who was striving in his agitation to
raise one, "or—"
The sentence was interrupted by the report
of Sims' pistol. The Sheriff, struck dumb
with fear and astonishment, sat like a statue.
He had no power to move, but muttered
through his trembling lips, "It's all over with
us now."
The robber again accosted Sims, as he bent
his threatening eyes upon him, till his agita
ted nerves shook the pistol from his hand.—
"Accursed scoundrel that you are—another
attempt at treachery, and I'll send you to
your last reckoning. Dismount, both of you,
and stand by these trees ; but again I warn
you, beware a second offence. And now,
gentlemen," said he, after binding each one
with a cord, which he drew tightly around a
sapling, and then fastened, "I'll trouble you
for your money."
He then searched the person of Sims, get
ting about six hundred dollars and a gold
watch. Re found nothing of value on the
Sheriff; he then bade them good evening,
started their horses .homewards, sought his
own horse, that was standing a little distance
from the road, and galloped off in the direc
tion of the cottage.
The Sheriff and Sims listened attentively
for the last sound of the horse's feet, as he
galloped over the stony road, and after it be
came inaudible they still remained in a lis
tening attitude for the space of half an hour,
fearing the robber might return. They then
attempted to extricate themselves. Sims, boil
ing with rage at the loss of his money, com
menced heaping his anathemas upon the head
of the Sheriff, " George Downing," he went
on, "if you had done your duty as an officer
of the law, this would not have happened,
but there you sat on your horse, more like a
fool than anything else, while at the same
time you had a warrant for that devilish Lew
is, and a brace of loaded pistols to enforce
your duty."
Downing not wishing to quarrel rejoined,
" I tell you what it is Mr. Sims, I call that a
pretty narrow escape. When be held his two
shooter at me, I just shut my eyes, knowing
the desperate character of the fellow. I thought
my. t r im() had come. If it only had had ono
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11
barrel, I wouldn't a cared, but would have
settled the chap with my pistols, so you see
he had the advantage of me altogether."
" Yes he had," added the other sneering
ly, freeing himself as he spoke, "for you're a
coward, and he's a brave man."
" You'd better be a little careful how you
talk," interrogated the Sheriff, his old brag
ging propensities returning, and who always
was the bravest when farthest from danger,
" or I might let you have the benefit of my
bravery.'
" Well I well I there's no use talking anj.-
more about it, our best plan'll be to get
home as quickly as possible, and in the morn
ing get out hand-bills; for my part I'll give a
a hundred dollars for the villain's capture;
he's robbed me twice now." Saying this, be
assisted his companion, by cutting the cords
with his knife, and the two started homeward,
where we will leave them for the present and
follow Lewis.
When he had arrived at the cottage, he
threw the reins on his horse's neck, saying
" stand • Dram," he then leaped the fence,
and was soon ushered into the house by Girt,
whom he chanced to meet in the field ; his
clothes were so different from those which he
had worn the week before, that he was not
recognized by either.
" It was I who lodged with you last week,"
said he to Mrs. Waters, "have you forgotten
me already."
" Oh I you are the kind gentleman who en
abled me—"
Interrupting her with a motion of his hand,
as was his custom, he said, " That is not my
business here, being hungry, not getting any
thing to eat since morning, I called in to see
if you could give me something for myself
and horse."
" Yes, sir, we can, and happy in an oppor
tunity of showing our gratitude for your
kindness. Girt, go and attend to the gentle
man's horse ; you have corn, give him some."
" Wait young man," he said, turning to
Girt, "I'll go with you, as few persons besides
myself can catch him," and the two started
towards the road.
Girt being just on the verge of manhood,
and having no small opinion of his abilities
at almost anything, thought it strange if he
couldn't catch a horse, he remarked,
"Ain't your horse tied ?"
" No, sir."
" Can you catch him easily ?"
" Yes, sir."
" Suppose you catch him, and let me
try . it ?"
.Lewis walked up to the horse and patted
him on the neck, saying, "stand, Draco,
stand ;'•' he then retired about twenty yards,
and Girt walked towards the horse. When
he came within four steps of his head, the
horse suddenly wheeled round, making his
head the farthest part of him from Girt, and
his hind feet nearest him. In vain, Girt
walked round and round towards his head,
the horse always kept the same position,
whenever he moved, the horse moved, and
when he stopped, the horse stopped. "Come,
Draco, come," said Lewis in a low voice; the
noble animal curved his beautiful neck, and
with a toss of his mane, in an instant was at
the side of his master, who, pulling the rein
over his head, gave it to Girt as he said,
" now, sir, you can lead him to the barn, and
as soon as he eats his corn, bring him out, as
I have a long journey to make yet to-night."
After Girt had fed the horse, they both
walked to the cottage. The savory venison
was frying on the red coals, a cone-like pile
of corn cakes towered on the hearth, these
spiced with the strong and pleasant scent of
sassafras tea, added fresh strength to the
hunger of Lewis, then the little pine table
was set out, covered with a clean white cloth,
the dishes placed thereon, and Lewis was en
joying the hospitality of Mrs. Waters with a
keen relish.
"Mrs. Waters," said he when he had fin
ished his supper ; the widow turned round,
astonished to hear her name mentioned by
one whom she did not know, and whom she
had never seen but once before, " though the
flowers which I planted with my own hands,
have long bloomed and faded on the grave of
my mother, though many years have flown
away since I heard the last tones of her gen
tle voice, as I stood - by her knee when a boy,
and repeated a child's prayer after her. I
hear those sweet words still lingering in my
ears as a dream of yesterday," tears came to
his eyes. Yes! the robber, the jail-breaker,
shed tears in memory of his mother. "Well,
Mrs. Waters, as I was about t 3 say, when I
see you, I see my mother, one portrait would
answer both, and for her sake," said he, ris
ing from the table, " I give you this purse,"
and he placed a heavy purse of gold in her
hand. After recovering from her astonish
ment, she turned to thank him, but he was
gone. When she went to the door she heard
the faint clattering of his horse's feet dying
away in the distance. Girt came running
up, " mother do you see anything of this,
here's ten dollars cash, as sure as I'm here,
and all gold at that; this is what I got for
feedin' his horse."
After the robbery of Sims, a warrant was
issued for the bodies of Lewis and his com
rade, dead or alive. All the officers were on
the alert, posters could be seen nailed to the
door of almost every village store, or tavern,
offering a large reward for their capture ;
but as yet, no trace could be found, whether
they had left the country and sought a refuge
in some place where their crimes were not
known, or retired to one of their old haunts,
somewhere in the mountains, no one could
tell. Thus two years had passed away.
. And now on the shore of a beautiful little
stream, that so much resembles a river in
size, that we can hardly call it creek, are four
men, great trees rise from the dark ledges of
rocks on either side, seeming to vie with each
other in extending their long drooping arms
over the water, the glassy surface of which
casts back an ideal picture ; each of the men
I have mentioned, carries a rifle ; for a few
moments they appear to be in consultation,
quick glances arc uneasily cast around them.
" Here," says one, whom we shall recognize
Editor and Proprietor.
NO, 20.
CIIAPTER 111.
ISIS GRAVE.
as Arthur Sims, "is the place, the boy said
they were when he saw them shooting
mark. There they are now," he said hur
riedly, "they've seen us,and are about to cross
the creek; come on boys, quick," they started
on a full run, and after running two hundred
yards, they halt; two men are hastily aseending
the opposite bank of the creek. " Stop,"
cried Sims, " stop, or we'll shoot you," not
heeding him, they are still scrabbling up the
bank, two rifles are discharged, one of the
robbers (for such they are,) seems to hesi
tate, his hand unclasps the rifle, he staggers,
he falls upon the hard rocks. The other
pressing his hand upon his stomach, gains i
the height of the bank, and disappears n the
woods.
The fallen man is soon reached, it proves
to be Lewis, the bullet has broken his arm
just above the elbow, and he being warm and
excited, the crimson blood flows from the
wound, in a stream. " And now boys for
the other," says Sims, and he and another
man, started in the direction in which he had
gone, while the other two remained, to search
Lewis, stop the blood, and bind up his wound.
They hunted the woods over and over, for
Connally, and were about to give up the search,
when they espied him, not a hundred yards
from the creek; there he lay in the top branch
es of an old oak, that had lately been uproot
ed by a storm, and when they came up, his
rifle was resting on a limb, and although emp
ty, he was snapping it at Sims. " I'd freely
give all I ever had," said. he, " and my life
along with it, if my rifle was loaded, for then
I'd just think I was redden the world of a
curse, and that would console rile in my dyin'
hour."
The ball had passed through his stomach,
and he was fast sinking, from the blood that
was suffocating him ; they carried him to , a
house not far off, gave him medical atten
dance, but he died soon after.
* * * * * * *
Within the gloomy walls of a prison,. in a
room lighted by one window, which is grated
with massive iron bars, lies a man;- the ob
lique rays of the declining sun shines through
the interstices in the window full upon his
face; it is pale and ghastly as a spectre; those
wan features, that wasted form tell of suffer
ing, aye deep, deep suffering, both of the
mind and body, one can breast the chilling
winds of sorrow and adversity, "hoping for
a better day to-morrow," as a hearty travel
er bears up against the storm, yet the an
guish of mind, " as the worm that diethnot,"
wriggles and writhes continually until spent
nature gives way, and with a last great strug
gle, the soul is separated from the body.—
Poor Lewis! his crimes rose as a mountain
in his eyes, that lowered over him, and each
moment threatened to crush him, although
he never murdered, nor would have done so,
but in self-defence, yet he had departed from
the early admonitions of a pious mother, and
led on by the influence of evil companions,
had broken the laws of his country, and was
branded an outlaw. In vain the kind Doctor
insisted on his arm being taken off.
" No, no," he would say, " I feel that my
time has come. I have lived long , enough. I
don't wish to live any longer. I bouyed my
self up with the hope that it wasn't such a
crime to rob from the rich, if we were gener
ous to the poor, but I see when too late, it's
all a delusion; my mind's made up, I'll die
Doctor, die cheerfully, rather than walk the
earth a cripple."
All the good Doctor's arguments were "as
chaff in the wind;" he told him his case; "to
day," said he, " is my only .chance, to-mor
row will be too late. In t*enty-four hours
mortification will take place, and then noth
ing short of a miracle can save you.." • To
this he would answer, "my mind's made up
—l'll die Doctor."
It happened as the Doctor had said. In
two days he was borne away to the tomb.—
To the tomb? No, he was not honored with
that, but was borne away and thrown into
the cold earth—a boon they could not refuse.
Poor fellow ! he had no one to smoothe his
dying pillow, no parent, no relation, not even
a friend to whisper the simple words, "lie is
dead."
"And yonder under that clump of trees;"
said the old man who told me the story, point
ing to a group about an eight of a mile off,
whose graceful tops were gently agitated by
the evening breeze, and occasionally would
turn up their glisteningfoliage to the setting
sun, "well, under them is a grave, or was
once, and that contains all that remains:of
Lewis."
" And what," said I, being interested"in•
the characters of his story, "and what be
came of Mrs. Waters and her boy."
" Bless her dear soul, she has long and si
lently slept in the little green valley by the•
log cottage. Peace to her ashes. She died:
five years after the commencement of my
story, and her son, that is myself. After the•
death of my dear mother, I could not be rec
onciled to stay there alone. I sold the place,•
came here, where I married, and have been
ever since. Two years ago as I crossed the-
Alleghenies, I passed the humble home of
my childhood. Tears filled my eyes when I
saw the change. A noble brick edifice had
risen from the ruins of the cottage, the little
old barn was torn away, and a large white•
frame one in its stead. As I rode along, E
thought of my mother—my dogs—and my
rifle—th ough almost obliterated, I could still.
recognize the places I used to love.. As my
horse walked leisurely along, my mind busy
with a thousand different things, at last it
centered on the two travelers, who once came•
to our cottage, and involuntarily I murmured,.
poor, poor, Lewis."
NEVER YIELD TO RIDICULE.—Never let your'
honest convictions be laughed down. You,
can no more exercise your reason if you live'
in the constant dread of ridicule, than you ,
can enjoy your life if you are in constant
terror of death. If you think it right to
differ from the times, and to make a point of'
morals, do it; however pedantic it may ap—
pear, do it—not for insolence, but seriously'
and grandly, as if a man wore a big soul of
his own in his bosom, and did not wait till it
was breathed into him by the broath of fash—
ion. Be true to your manhood's convictiom.-
and in the end you will not only be respected'
by the world, but have the approval of your
own coscience.
far. The population of London at the pres—
ent time is nearly three millions. She is
now the largest city in Europe, and confident
of her wealth, power, and influence, laughs
at her enemies. Yet the day may arrive; as
M'Cauley has said, " when some traveler
from New Zealand shall, in the midst of- a
vast solitude, take his stand on a broken arch
of London Bridge, to sketch the ruins of St..
Pauls."
par The wind all day preaches a• sermon
upon charity that we hope goes to many
hearts. As you close the shutters and draw
around the cheerful fire, thanking God for.
the comforts and blessing of heaven, think
there are many people in this very town, who
are shivering without a fire,