TaD2 - 3 MaTZO)
10
(From the Hartford Times.]
Mt Last _Procession. ,
v,houilit at evening I paused,
One cold November day,
vre d r y and grim an 'j'-ash pole stood,'
Like ghost beside the way ; 4
an on mine - ear a wail arose,
(ad slowly 'fore mine eye—
trsh solemn tread a lengthened train,
in fanfgral guisa moved by.
Fi r a'with a face whose depth of gloom
~n t l bition's
file • Mill•bo ,
The chiefe
.tr,J then to , ig get
With symphathetic tear,
with solemn air, so meek and good,
Walked Frelingbuysezt near.
VI 'branding-iron' in each hand,
Fr,ina his far travels come,
1.53111Cel in his deep despair,
&apt) • Roorback,' dark and glum;
Id sadly leining on his arm,.
His old and tender dame,
In ill her weeds of woe arraye•r,
The' Widow Bringhert ' came.
Then 'General.Edwards and his son,'
That 'estimable' pair,
.Iferched:midst a troop of juveniles,'
And dandies withlong hair ;
While d•doroas upon the breeze,
;All wheezing-far
Like his own windy bellows, the
Poughkeepsie blacksmith sighed
And then that • coach expressly built,'
And decked - with sill and gold,
The great embodiment' to bear,
With sullen motion rolled;
And as along . the dusky way
Its darkening.course it kept,
jiesigt it with his Clay -f Tribune,'
-Poor Greely walked arid wept.
Then thronged a long and dismal host,
s 'A thousand men or more,
And each "upon a frowzy sag
A scurvy motto bore;
And colpinteurs' , with • Junius tracts'
crushing, weary load,
Bent town with weariness and wo,
In sad procession trod. -
And sorely on his wounded calf,
tear - drops in his eye.
-The great - god-father of the whip;
Th' immortal Webb limped by,
A doleful dirge Joe Hoxiesahg
Amidst that sorrowing train,
Anil, glee clubs and Clay minstrels joined
The melancholy strain.
And thus they passed in long array,
At evening'g sombre hour;
And ;pier was heavy. on each heart,
With its o'errnastering power.
^Torbroken,•busted,' - ‘gone to pot,'
Exploded, vanished, fled.
The great _Whig party was no more—
' That 'nine old coon' was DELO !
The Lady's Yes.
BT ELIZABETEI B. BABBITT
`Yes !" I answered you last night—
' No !" this morning, sir, I say;
Colors s / cen by candle-light
Canncit look the same by day.
When the tabors played their best,
And the dancers were not slow,
"Lave me" sounded like a jest,
Fit for 44 yes "• or fit for " no."
Thus, the sin is on us both ;
Wes to dancea time to woo ?
Wooers light makes fickle troth—
Scom'of stv. Kecoila on Tor.
- Leirato win a lady's faith I- 2 -,
``Nobly, as the thing is high -
Bravely, as in fronting-death—
With becoming gravity.
Lead her' kom the painted boar&—
Point her to the starry skies--
Guaid her, by your truthful words,
Pure from courtship's flatteries.
By your truth she shall be true,
Eve L true as wives of yore, •
And her " yes,"once said . to you,
Shall be yes for evermore.
[From. Noah Messenger.)
he lovely Woman tilts her saucer,
And finds too late that lea will stain,
What art Will he . al the sad disaster!
Whit wash will make it white again!
the only way that stain-fo cover,
To hide the spot from every eye.
cheat her fother,:mether, lover,
And blind their vision, is to dye.
- Taking Tea.
iitty fellow once was asked—
" Pray where do y'e 'take your teal"
'ICY friend, where else &you suppose,'
got to My mouth" said he.
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The Old Sugar House Prison,
The following interesting sketches
and reminiscences. of the Old Sugar
House in Liberty street, used by the
British• in the Revolution as a prison
for confining American prisoners, and
in which the most painful and appalling
sufferings - were endured, have been
published in .a communication in the
New World, from Grant, Thorburn,
otherwise known as Laurie Todd.
%Vhen ages shall have mingled with
lose who hive gone before the flood,
the spot, on which stood this prison
will be sought for with more than anti
quarian interest. ' It was founded in
1769, and occupied as a sugar refining
manufactory till 1776, when Lord ,
Howe converted' it into a place of con
finement for the American prisoners.—
At the conclusion of the' war for inde
pendence, the business of sugar refining
was resumed, and continued until 1839
or' '4O, when it was levelled to the
ground to make way for a block of
buildings wherein to store Yankee ruin
and New Orleans molasses. pity it
ever was demolished. With reastina
ble care it might have stood a thousand
years, a monument to all generations,
of the pains, penaltis, sufferings and
deaths their fathers met in procuring
the blessings they now inherit •It
stood on The south east corner and ad
joining the grave yard aroundthe Mid
dle Dutch Church, said church being
bdunded by Liberty; Nassau and
Cedar streets. But, as , ii is :9 ai d this
church is soon to become a post office.
The levelliia spirit of the day is root
ing up and destr.oy lug every landmark
and vestige of antiquity about the city,
and it is probable that in the year 2021,
there will not be found a man in New
York who can poincoutthe site where
on stood a pison, whose history is so
feelingly con Q
ected with our Reveltt-
T I
tionary traditions.
On the 18th of June, 1794. 1 came
to reside in Liberty street, between
Nassau street and Broadway. where 4
dwelt forty years. As the events re
corded in this history had but recently
transpired ;1 had frequent opportunities
oiseeing and conversing with the men
who had been actors in the scenes.—
Some of the anecdotes 1 heard from the
lips of General Alexander Hamilton,
General Altirgati Lewis, Colonel Rich
ard Varick, the venerable John Pinion!,
and other Revolutionary worthies, then
in-the prime of life, but now all num
bered with the dead.
Till within a few years there stood
in Liberty street, a dark stone building.
grown gray atia- rusty with age. with
small. deep windows, eshibiting, a dun
geon-like aspect, and transporting the'
memory to scenes of former days, when
the Revolution poured its desolating
waves Oyer the fairest portion - of our
conntry. It was five stories high ; and
each story was . divided into two dreary
apartments, with ceilings so low, and
the light from the windows so dim, that
a stranger would readily take the place
for a jail. Ott the stones in the walls.
and on many of thebricks tinder the
office windows, are still to be seen
and ancient dates, as if done with
a penknife or nail ;. this was the work
of malty of the .American
, prisoners,
who adopted this. among other means
to while' away their weeks and years of
long monotonous confinement.. There
is - 'a strong jail-like door opening on
Liberty street, ,and another on the
south-east; descending into a dismal
cellar, scarcely allowing the mitl-lay
sun to peep through its window gratings.
When I first saw this building—some
fifty yearsago—there was .. a walk, near
ly broad enough 'for a cart to travel,
round it ; but, of late years, a wing has
been added to the north-west end, which
shut , up this walk, where, for many
long days and nights, two. British or.
liessiAtOoldiers walked their weary
rounds; guarding the American prison
ers. For 4hirty years after I settled in
Liberty street,. this house-. Was often
visited by one and another :of that . °
War-tvorn veterans-4men of whom the;
present political middlings are . . net
worthy. I often heard them repeat the
story. of their sufferings and sorrows,
hut alWa‘s with' grateful acknowledge-
Men tit to him .whO guides the destinies
of men-as well as of nations.
One morning. when , retirinerom
the Old Fly .Market; at the foot 'of Maid,
en Lane, I noticed two' of those rilti
soldiers in the sugar house yard ; .they
had only three leke! betweetrilietn—reme
having a wooden leg. I stopped a mo-1
ment to listen to their conversation, And
'as Amy- me . Ving from the
yard. said-I to them,
4. Gentlemen, do either of. you re
member this building!'"
0‘ Aye, indeed ; I shall never forget
Regardless of /Renunciation :front any tivusrleiN-;4ol,4'4Tzni
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VOW,IISTEL.49 031BIEEMIE3 oburssuisrs, TPLo9 SININSCHUNI FAD 4041eGik
its" replied - he of _opt ~leg._ .! For.
twelve months, that, dark"hotiiniant
ing to the cellar. 4 , Was my otitYloine..
And at that door I saw the corpse of my
brother thrown into. the _ deep. cart,
among a
,heap of others, who died in
the night previous of jail fever. While
the.fever was raging, we were let otit
in companies of twenty. for lialran
bout. at a time, to breathe the fresh air;
an4.inside 'we ; were so crowded that we
divided our number into squads of six
each. No; one, stood ten minutes as
chise to the windoW as they could'
crowd. to catch the cool air, and then
stepped back. when No. , two took
their places ; and sn on. Seat we had
none ; and our beds were hut, straw on
the floor, with vermin intermixed.—;
And there," continued he,' pointing
with his cane to a brick in the wall.
is my • kill-time work—A. N. S.,
1777. viz : A praliam Van. Sivkler—
which I scratched with an old nail.—
When peace came, some learned the
fate of 111 , 4 fathers and brothers from
such initials."
My house being 'near by, I asked
them to step tn and take a bite. I n an
swer to my -inquiry es to how - h • lost
his leg, he related the following eireutn
stat.e
‘. In 1777." said he. ..I was quar
tered at Bellville. N. J., with a part of
the army, under Col. Cortlandt. Gen.
Howe had poisession of New York,',
at the same time, and we every moment
13,,,
expected an attack frii'n - Henry Clin
ton. Delay made us les vigilant. and
we were surprised defeated, and many
slain and made prisoners. We march
,ed from Newark, crossing the Passaic
and Haekensnek r i vers in boats. The
road through the Swamp was a "'cor
duroy." that is, pine trees laid side by
side." -
In September, 1795; I traveled this
road, and found it in the same condi
tion.
We were conGned," he continued.
in this sugar house, with hundreds
who had entered before us. Al that
time, the brick meeting house, the
mirth Dutch church,' the protestant
church in Pine street, [where now
stands the custoini house.] were used
a 4 jails for the" prisoners ; while the
Scotch - presbyterian church in C
street, [now a house of Inerchandize]
was occupied- as an hospital for the
Hessian soldiers, and the Middle Dutch
for a riding school for their cavalry. I
well remember • it was on a Sabbath
norning—as if in contempt of Him
whose houses they were desecratinoi—
that they first commenced their riding
operations in said church. On that
same day a vessel from England arriv
ed, laden with powder, ball, and other
munitions of war. She, dropped an
chor in the East river, opposite the
foot of Maiden Lane. The weather was
warm, and a thunder storm came on in
the afternoon. The ship was struck
by a thunderbolt from Heaven. Nut
a vestige of the crew, stores, or equip
ment was ever seen - . after that. The
good Whigs, and Americans, all over
the Country, said that the God of Battle
had pointed that thunderbolt.'
" We were crowded to excess,"
continued the old veteran ; " our pro
visions bad, sestity and unwholsome
and . theleversage,d like a pestilence.,-
For many weeks, the dead cart visited
- us every morning, into which froth
eight to twelve corpses were -thrown,
piled up like sticks of wood, with the
same clothes they had worn for months.
and in which they had-died, and often
before the both!' was cold. Thus.,,eve
ry day expecting death, I made up my
mind to escape, or die in the attempt.
The yard was surrounded by a close
board fence nine feet high. I inform
ed mylrietid here of tity intention, and
he readily-agreed to follow my plan.
The= day previous we placed an old
barrel, which stand in'the yard, against
the fence,, as if by, accident., Seeing
'the barrel was not removed the next
day, We resolved to make
,the attempt
that afternoon:-The fence ' , we humid
etl'to scale_* as on the 'side oldie yard
nearest to the East River, and -our in
tentions were, if we succeeded in. get
ting over, tiOnake ler the river, seize
the first beet we could 'find, and pat
-for Lone . Wand: , •
- • " Two •Csentriel, walked around the
building day and niglitolways meeting
and pissing each Other at the. ends,. of
prison. .They were only aboutone .
Minute out - et sight, and- dining this'
minute • are-mounted the: barrel and
-cleared fence::. dripped_ upon : a
stone.-And ,broke my leg E so;that ;lay
still at the bottom of the fence outside.
We were Miisedirtitnediately. and pue
sued: heiltoppetla Inomeriti.t&- -
amine my leg."and this saved, my friend,
ion by the: time 'they ,reeelmd. the.
ler's edge, at the ,root of Maiden Lane,..
,- hawas stepping onshoreit - BiOoklyn,
and thus got clear. I was carried to
my old quarters, and rather thrown
than laid on the floor, under a showeraf
cameo. ,
'Twenty-four. hoiirat r elapsed ere I saw
the Dootor.. My leg, by this time, had
become so much swollen that it could •
not be set. Mortification imtnediatelr
commenced. and amputation, soon fol
lowed. Thus being disabled from ser
ving either friend or foe, I was libera
ted, through the influence of a. distant
relative, a Royalist. And now I live
as I can, on - my pension and•with the
help of any friends." ,
In 1812, Judgta Schuyler, of Renville
showed me a musket ball Which then
lay imbedded in one of his inside win.
dow-shutters, which was 'edged there
on that fatal night thirty-five . years pre
vious.
Among the many who visited this
prison forty years ago, I one day ob
served a tall thin, but respectable look
ing gentleman, on whose head was a
cocked hat—an article not entirely dis
carded in those days—and a few &men
snow-white hairs gathered behind and
tied with a black ribbon. On his arm
hung—not a badge, -- or a cane or a dag
ger, but a handsome young lady, who .
I learned from him was his, daughter
whom he had brought two hundred
miles to view the place of her- fathers
sufferings. He walked erect. and had
about him something of a military air.
Being strangers, I asked them in ; and
before we parted. 1 heard
THE HISTORY OF THE_ PRISONER.
" When the Americans." lie-began,
had possession of Fort Washington,
on the North river—it being the only
post they held at that time on York
Island—l belonged to .a company of
Light Infantry, stationed there on duty.
The American army having retreated
from New .York, Sir William Howe
determ,ined to reduce that garrison to
the subjection of the British if possible.
Our detachment at that time was short
of provisions, and as Gen. Washington
was at Fort Lee, it was a difficult mat
ter to supply ourselves from the dis
tance without the hazard of interception
trom the enemy. There lived on the
turnpike within a mile of our post, a
Mr. J. B. This man kept a store well
supplied with provisions and groceries.
and contrived to keep himself neutral,
selling to both parties—but he was
strongly suspected of favoring the Bri
tish by giving them information, &c.--
Some of our officers resolved to satisfy.
themselves—and if they found their
Suspicions just, they thought! it would
be no harm to make a prize of his
stores, especially as the troops were
much in need of them. From prisoners,
and clothes stripped from the slain we
had alWays a supply of British uniforms
for officers and privates. Accordingly
three.of our officers put on the red
coats, and walked to friend Ws.. where
they soon found the color of their uni
forms was a passport to his best affec
tions, and .to his best wines. As the
glass went round his loyal ideas began
to shoot-forth in'royal blasts and senti
ments. Our • officers being now sure
of their man, I was one of a party who
went with wagons and every thing ne
dessary to ease him of his stores. .
" On the following evening, that
matters might pass ,quietly. we put on
the British uniforms —.Arriving at the
house, we informed Mr. B. that the
army were in want of all his stores, but
we had no time to make an inventory;
being afraid we might be intercepted by
the Americans but he Must make out
his bill from memory, carry it to the
Commissary at New York, and get his
pay. thklandlord looked rather se
rious at this wholesale . mode of doing
business,ibut, as the waggons were
loading ulp, he found remonstrance
would be in vain. In less Man an hour.l
his whole stock of eatable and drinka- '
hies were on the road to Fort Washing
ton. By the'direCtion we took he sus
pected the trick, .odd alarmed the out
:poSts of the British, army, . In f.fleen
minutes we heard the sound of their
horses, lumfa thnndering along behind
• os .:::..hut they were too late, and we got
htsefe. '- : He got Ins -retb•nge however,
forin,threetdays thereafte r our fortress'
was stormed, by : Gen. 'Estiphausen
.ott
the north, Gen.-Matthews unit Lord;
Cornwallis on the east; and Lortle
cy :antl. -Sterling: on , ._ the South-.
tierce and: successful was Abel !attack:
. that twenty-Aeyen • -hundred of us were
taken prisoners, and numbers of
with myself,, marched to Nevt - Yorkl
and lodged, the Crown street (How
- Liberty street) suear , hontie:• ..•-• •
4 qt'js impossible: l !•he continued,
desatilie the' herroris cif thOprisOn,
was like a healthy man beiNr4ied to
ME
IN
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putrid .ca r ca s s .• 'I made s e veralea attempts
ta - eficape,lbut aivittya failed, and at last
began to $, ield to - despair.' I citight the
jail fever.l end Was . iiigli• unto death.
At this time tbecatneacquainted: with
a young Man among, the prisoners, the
wretchedness of whinie lot tended by
comparison - to - allevtate my own. H e
brave, intelligent and kind.' Many
-
a long and weary, night • he sat by the
side of my bed of straw, consoling my
sorrows, and beguiling the dreary hours
wttli his-interesting history. He'Was
the only 'child of his wealthy and doting .
parents, and had received a liberal edu
cation ; hut despite of their cries and
tears, he ran to the i help of his country
against the might: - rHe had never heard
from his parents since the day. he left
their roof. " They lay near his heart,
but there - . was one ,whose image was
graven there-as with the point of a dia
mond. I He, too, .had the,: fever in - his
I turn ; and I then, as much as in me
lay. paid hack to hini 'my debt of grati
tude. :. My friend," he would say to
me, "if you survive; this deadly hole, 1 ,
promise me you wilt go to the town of
H—i .Tell my parents, and Eliza.
I perislied.here. a captive, breaihing the
most fervent prayers for their hapt&
nem" I tiled tat cheer him by hope.
feeble' is lii was. :•• Tell me' not," he
would add, .• of the hopes of reunion,
there is only one world where the ties
of affection will never break : and there,
through, the merits' of Him who was
taken from prison 'into Judgment for
our sins, I hope to meet them."
.. This crisis over, he began.to re
vive, and in a few days was able to
walk, by leaning on My arm. We
were i standing by one of the narrow
windows: inhaling. the fresh air, on a
certaitr day, when we espied a young
woman trying to gain admittance. 'Af
ter parleying for some time and placing
i
some hing i n the hands of the sentinel , °
site t • as permitted to enter this dreary
abode. She was like atiangel among
the dead. After.gazing eagerly around
for a!moment. she flew to the arms of
her recognized lover, pale and altered
as he' was. It was Eliza. The -Scene
was airEcting in the extreme. And
while they wept clasped in each others
arms, the prisoners within and even the
iron-hearted Hessian at the door, caught
the infection. She told him she re
ceived his letter, and informed his pa
rents of its contents ; but not knowing
how, to return an answer with safety,
she had traveled through perils bylancl
andlwater to see her Henry.
s-,me Hessian sentinel had
served us our rations for months past,
andfrom a lone intimacy with the pri
soners, was alinost considered a friend.
Eliza, who made her home with a re
lative in the city.; was daily admitted ;
by the management of this kind-hearted•
man, and the atriall nourishing notions
she brought in her pockets together with
the light of ber countenance. which
causes) his
. to brighten-.whenever she
appeared, wrought a cure as if by mira
cle'. His parents arrived: but were not
admitted inside In a few days' there 4
after, however, by the help of ounce
arltwo of gold, and the good feelings of
ou Hessian friend. o plan was concer
ted for meeting. them. His turn of du
ty was from twelve till two o'clock that
night. 'The Signal which was to lock
and unlock a certain door iwicc. being
given,. Henry and myself slipped nut
and crept on (Air hands and knees along
the back wall' of the Middle Dutch
Church, meeting the, parents and_Elila
by the Scotch Church in Cedar street.
As Oleic as thought we were on board
a!Aniat. with two men and four oara c im
North• river. Henry pulled for
( bet* I for and the men for a purse,
!so that in thirty minutes after leaving
the' Sugar • linuse we- stood on the Jer
iev shore.
In less than e month Eliza was re
warded forill her trials witli'the'.lieart
and hand OP Henry. :They now live
not far from Elizabethtown comfortable.
and happy, With a hock of olive plants
!around theit table. I spent a day and
!night at their house lasi week, recount-
Int stir . cast 'Barrows-. end present
jogs. ,,
Thus the old man concluded ; sin),
ply adding - that litihiniself now .enjOyed
a foil share 'efeattlity bles*ings. with - a
grateful .heatt to :the:eiver-,91:oll gbod.
It i s well to *snatch from obliviiim
spot io: interesting • Eerolutinoary
tradition, as. ;was the SUgar-honesOtsim
to Litierty street. •AV ithin,:fifiy: feet .to
the- eastward . of the Middle ., Dutch
Church,'ia'htlter spot - On:Which . stood
this hastile;,;jittn . ,iihich Many notetetl,
but from ' whenre returned:; The
hell .*liieltitOtivealla you:tei church ..ia.
the :satile hY.ivittektifoie,tirisonecn took
their of time.- Many, very - man
counted' tWelie as they lay on their bed
s
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El
EDT 1110 - 13* 436411)W111 a DOM,
ER
of.siraw. - It' waa the knell of their de.;
parting hour. efo r e the. belt ' again
tolled for one, they had gone 'to happier
climes.
Since writing the above, the religious
services in this 'church have , come to
a final close. The' workmen are now
engaged in fitting - it up , for a Post
Office. The walls - will probably' -not
he altered ; and fronr„their thiCkness,
and the durable nature of the stone with
which they are,built, under the' foster
ing care of the government the, building
may yet stand many centuries, as a
landmark wherein the English cavalry
kept a riding schen!, and within . fifty
feet of which stood" the Sugar-house
prison, of Revolutionary, memory. •
&MOM
It may not be generally known, but It
is a fact, that editors work for , aiiving,
just as other people'do. One would sup
pose, to t hear the abuse lavished on'news
paper writers, that they were ,a species
of monsters, committing all sorts of mis-,
chief for mischief's sake. Editors are
public property. Every loafer in every
Three cent groggery in town allows his
tongue to run at randoin about Men per
sonally unknown to him,and who would,
not know him for half the world's trea
sury, as though - they - were intimate nc
qaintances. A nasty feeling. of 'envy '
prompts every thick-headed' upstart to
venture his crude opinion neon the me
rits of the editors, to expatiate & their
private characters, to point out their
-weakness, take exceptions to their dress,
ridicule their manners, and lie away
their reputation. All the while these un
fortnnates are writing away in cornerd of
printing offices, driioving on their brains
to fill their stomachs ; day after day,
from the year's beginning to its end, ta
king their seats at the old desks.'toiling
for bread. The mechanic has his prop
er time in which to do specified work,
and when it is 'completed, the critical
eyes of the employer alone can scan it.
But the editor does every thing in haste,
and all that he accomplishes passes un
der the Cold, "fault-seeking eves Of the
public. Some men,• too magnanimous
to bestow censure alone, do indeed award
praise; but the mass love to find fault.
It does gratify„thern to get a chance to
abuse an editor, and no poor scribbler
ever escapes the venom of their tongue.
Then, because-he happens to be an edi
tor, his private affairs are a legitimate
subject for public comment. He half
pens to have some domestic troubles—
forthwith they are noised around. .
The old aiiiid, dabbling her hand in
the step bowl at the tea table, tells the
company all about the sorrows of pror
1 Mr,: So-and-so, without knowing the
origin or the right or. the wrong of the
matter.• Or if the editor possesses taste
enough to dresi with marked plainness,
in these days of empty show, when the
humenccalves wear the finest coats, the
inquiry:is instantly started, whether Mr.
is not dissipated. -\ What can he
do with his money ! -It never occurs, to
these very curious people that the victim
of this malicious remark may have some
claims on his heart more powerful than
all the , haberdashery 'temptations of
Broadway—that young sisters or broth
ers, or it 'may be a widowed mother,
look' to him in honest manhood, and do
not look in vain. These excellent gab
blers,db not allow themselves to suppose
for a. moment that their ill-natured and
continued back-biting had its origin in a
miserable spirit of envy. Why. an edi
tor has a free admission to all places of
public amusement—occasionally lie has
a seat at some public spread—oftentimes
he gets a bow from a . great man. What
a fortunate fellow! and then, too, he ap
pears in type, his name is at the head of
the first cola= of a paper, or looks
&Ain in all the pomp of capitals, from
the top of a magazine article. TO`-the
vnlgar eyes of ignorance these are privi•
leges and honors of great value, and yet
their possessor, not valuing th m a fig.
would give them all, and more, or that
obscurity, which shuts out fromt e hum
ble: hut of the peasant, the pOiag eyes
whose revelation set in motion the di
tracfing tongue.—N. r.Sunday -Times.
Nti
MITE N ----- S
. - ' A
Anyz TRAWBERRVe...- .
Goedwin, Aslifield. Mass.. describes a
kiird of-strawberry which :be tidal:cis
a native of the Berkshire Hills. He
save : 4. It is-larger than The eimmon
field strawberry. verY'hardy. and yields
and a great quantity of fruit, prodring- 3
in succession three or four weeks.—
When ripoit is of a yellowish
contrasting , beautifulli - with the red
titre be '
cry. It hai3,a and
Oben ptcked. cleaves from theliull:"
"t W001:131AN SPARZ THAT THP.U.n.--
&Seamy named fromliParld lately mar
ried,A,Ynnng named Tree. and the third
day after the; wedding the 1 3rutal zeatinP
whipped her. •
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