The globe. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1856-1877, November 09, 1859, Image 1
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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 .i • k l. • •'., •kkk,,, ~,., Ik :A ig uTe• ' .4 1 • 4 . 4t V5-,',- •a!' A.? . .' VI • 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,