M
vrav=li =te
TOWANP
1•••••••• - ;
am:to alan!Yuli Int 12, 1851,
Vortrq.
THE WASTE OF WAR.
Hive me the gold that war has cost.
Helm the peace•espanding day ;
Te wafted skill, the labor iost.—.
The mental treasure.throWn away;
Audi will burr each rood of soil
In every yet discovered land ; •
Where hunters roam, where peasants toil.
Where many peopled cities stand.
rn clothe each shivering wretch on earth,
In needful, nay, in brave attire;
Vequire befitting banquet mirth,
Which kings might envy and admire.
In every vale,,,on every plain,
A school shall glad the gazer's sight ;
Where every poor man'a child may gain
Pare knowledge, Ore as air and light.
rg b u ild asylums for the poor,
Hy age or ailment made forlorn ;
And none shall thrttst them from the door.
Or sting with looks or words of scorns
11l link each alien hemisphere;
Help honesPrnen to conquer wrilg ;
Art, Science. Labor, nerve and cheer;
Reward the Poet for his song. _
In.every crowded town shall rjse
Halls Academic, amply grated;
Where Ignorance may soon be wise,
And Coarseness learns both art and taste,
To every province shall belong
Collegiate structures, and not few—
ill'd with a troth-esploring throng,
And teachers of the good and true,
['revery free and peopled clime
A vast Walhalla ball shall stand ;
A mathle edifice sublime,
For the illustrious of the land . ;
A Pantheon for the truly great,:
The wise, beneficent, and just;
A place of wide and lofty state
To honor or to hold their dust.
A temple to attract and teach
Shall lift its spircon every hill,
Where pion§ men shalffeel and preach
Peace, mercy, tolerance, goodwill
Music of bells on sabbath days.
Round the whole earth shall gladly risck-
And one grest,Ckristian song oipraise
Stream sweetly upwards to the skies !
DA DIP ilTill3Nog,
OR,
THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS
DT FRANCIS A. DIIRIVAGE
hve with Came
Tee gods allow too many ; but to die
equal Instep is a hqeuing Heaven
Meet , ' from all the choicest boons of fate,
And with as paring hand on kw bestows.
LaamnAs.
luring the heroic struggle of the modem Greeks
nutapendence,,when the heart of every liberal
netted the world was beating with anxiety for
.ate of the Arlo% the defenders of Missotonghi
themselves leagured bra powerful Turkish
y Moslem cannon had breached their walls;
grosnd about -them had been mined by their
isle ; their ammunition was about exhaust
, their wounded were . accumulating on their
di, and finally, to complete the horror of their
atnn, famine stared them in the lace. -Yet
to vas nothing left for them but to Rumple to
lot, for the foe was merciless, and capitulation
Id only bring death to the men, and a servitude
roe than death to the women.
o the mins of an old church, a.council of war,
summoned, was assembled by torchlight.
n
Bozanie r the oldest living member of a heroic
,iiy, distinguished in the annals of Greece, the
patriarch of Missolonghi t presided at the
.ncil. Grouped around him 'were the wild and
. rd faces at warriors clad in the picturesque
bof their native land. Some were gray haired and
.1 with age—others in the foyer of manhood,
, e rigor of youth, but all bore traces of hard
p and suffering.
Patriarch, with a trembling voice, counseled .
Imo. Succor might arrive—he had no pot&
• throes, but still hope whispered in his ear.—
he enfeebled state of the garrison, fighting was
longer prio ca m e „
ernetriur Pitheads, a young .Suliote, prang to
feet when the patriarch had•Ciincluded.
Father," said he energetically, a I grieve to
er from you• lini - you are old. The snows of
enty winters rest on your venerable 'head.—
i p atio n — fonitude—martyrdom—are the ir.spi
.On or your years; but we of hotter blood cannot
the course you counsel. What] shall' we, in
• flower of life, with arms in our hands, sit here
I starve to death like rata in a dungeon" For
k 'leaven! Forbid it, mu ancestral tame !r—
-e memory of Marathon, of Platasa, of Thermo
speaks to us a different counsel. Our am
ninon is almost gone—but we have our good
Okla Onr ancestors had no other wear:ma--
Ith these a may cut our way through the ranks
Osman, and open a path 'for our aged liknd
wo
nto liberty and life.- Dly voice then is for a
le. Let us take the sacred standard ol the cross,
a this very night attack the foe. Your relative,
noble Marco, father, died in such an attack,
ht died in the arms of victory. Remember
lation.o
Y o ung man, in a foreign uniform, followed
'cola Gerald Falconer was an Ainerican of
el ho had abandonet. the luxuries and en.
' The m' of home, to devote his sword and for
eto the Greek cause. The friend of Demetrius,
s urceNl his opinions and defended them elo.
'WT. The mini, was desided on, and the coun
bra
n , -et v .
" g bill half an hour, a small but resolute band
collected in the shadow of the mined church,
Tole like a vast bulwark against the glorious
met heaven, now beginning to be lighted by
• unclouded rays of the full and rising moon
tb illoy breeze breathed through the groves of
re 1° •l myrtle, and came laden with tho,sweet
' line ' 4 l llowv l It was a night for lovers to
• r •
•
T 7 F ~
.., • •_. •
•
•:
REPORTER.•
~ '
wander arm in arm—it wan a night for quiet eon.
verse-4or peaceful contemplation—tyro:WY hail
willed it to be a night of deadly strife.
Demetrios whispered to his young friend : I
have sought my betrothed, my belifved Ida, but I
.Tound her not. If I sbouhl fill in ibis skirmish of
to night, and you survive me, seek-her out, I pray
you, and tell her that my last thoughts were of her.
More than this ;—yon are rich 84 indepeqttilti
•Ida is a poor orphan—her parents tel in this itnig
gle. When lam gone she will have no one uicare
for her. Promise me, that you will soothe her brok"
en heart—that you will remove her from this scene
of strife, and bear her to your happy land. There
she may cease to weep—happy the can never be
while she survives me,n
Gerald.grasprid the hand of his friend and gave
him the required 'promise. Demetrius thanked
him, and turned to his command.
"Forward, brethren," be said. "Every mo
ment is precious.. Tread silently—and keep in my
footsteps.-when the moment is arrived, I will give
you the signal to strike home. March!"
Silently and swiftly, the little band of heroes, led
by Demetrius and Gerald, issued from a crumbling
breach, and keeping in the shadow of the trees,
and the hollows of the ground, approached the
Turkish camp. Their attempt was so daring that
no provisions had been made against surprise.—
No sentinel was there to challenge. • They burst
upon their enemies as unexpectedly as the light
ning sometimes streams from a single cloud ypon
a dimmer's day. -
At once all was uproar and• confusion in the
camp. Horsemen sprang to the saddle but half
clad and armed—infantry collected in confused
groups—artillerists rushed ' to their cumbrous can
non, halt awake and bewildered—tambonrs, cym
bals, and horns suddenly broke the stillness of the
night—and smothered groans attested the latal fury
of the onslaught of the Greeks. In the midst of the
battle, a rocket fired by the hand of Gerald, mount.
ed to zenith like a shooting star, and then exploded,
scattering its crimson sparkles all over the face of
the heaven. ft was a token to Missoloughi of the
success of the sortie, and warned the inhabitants to
follow the path oFthe victorious troops, and pass
through the Turkish camp.
Striking down a man at every blow, Demetrius
cut his way to the tent of the Pacha, intending to
surprise and - slay him. But the Turk had been too
prompt. Al the first sound of alarm, he had vault
ed into the saddle of his Arab steed, and summon.
ing the faithful by his'powerful rushed to the
charge and rolled back the tide of battle.
The shouts of " Allah !" and " Bismillah !" rent
the air. Before the devoted Greeks rose a tumbling
sea of white turbans, lit by the flashing blades of
scimetars, while on their flanks poured an irregu
lar but deadly volley from the Turkish infantry. -
The standard of the cross was captured, and the
little band of patriots, alter fighting till all hope was
lost, were driven into Missolonghi, which the
Turks all but succeeded in entering. The old men,
women, and children, who were preparing to fly,
filled the air with lamentations, as their last hope
vanished.
Demetrius sought the patri a rch, and throwing
down the fragments of his shatered blade, 'said,
sadly: .
" Father I have sought death, but I have not
found it. When the standard was captured, I could
fain have thrown away my life, but I was borne oil
in the tide of fugitives, and savec against my will"
My child," said the old man, " murmur not'.
against the decrees of heaven. the best of us can
only do his utmost—the result is with a higher
power than man's will. Go to thy betrothed—she
needs thy presence, and doubtless sue, at least, will
not grieve at the failure of thy suicidal project."
Meanwhile the pacha was seated in his tent up.
on a pile of mushions. An alabaster lamp lighted
the rich interior of his military dwelling. Me had
laved the blood stains from his hands; his lalal
scimetar had been returned to its jewelled scabbard
and now, with the amber mouth-piece of his chi
book applied to his lips, he was' quietly inhaling
and expelling wreaths of fragrant smoke, musing
perhaps on the delights of that paradise to which
his fidelity to the cause of the prophet had given
him such an inconteseible claim.
" Well Hassan," he said, addressing an officer
who was standing respectfully before him, with his
arms folded over his glittering ihinkest thou
the infidel dogs will renew their snack?"
" No, Pacha, we have them caged now—their
fate is in your hands. But what shall be done with
the prisoners?"
They shall all die, by the beard of the prophet!
At the hour al high noon to-morrow, see that their
heads be stricken Irom their shoulders. They will
be acceptable present to the commander of the
faithful. So may all the foes of the Sultan perish'!"
"And must all die?"
"All? yes. Why this question.?"
" Because there is one whose extreme youth—"
'• I said all, Hassan," replied the P ! xcha. " But
I confess I should like to see the being who could
move thy pity."
"Shall I bring him before your highness?"
u Ay),
.Haisan inclined reverently and disappeared, but
soon returned, bringing a Greek try of - Right and
graceful figure and exceeding beauty.
. "Slave!" cried the Pacha, as the boy stood erect
and with . folded arms before him, " where is your
reverence t knoW you in whose presence , you
stand ?"
,The e beautiful lip of the boy curled with a ecomfol
em ile.
" I am no slave," he answered, " though a cap
tive. I never quail or stoop belore the f ace of man.
Do I know you! Yes—l know you as the assay.
sin of my race—the oppressor of my countrymen
" Infidel dog !" said the Pecha. Knbw you the
fate reserved for your
" I know not—l am a prisoner of war taken with
arms in my hands—you may, perhaps, shoot me."
" We do not shoot relyls," replied the Paths.—
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUkTY, PA., BY
,E, 031E,ARA GOODRICH.
"It is a waste of ammunition. No! there is a
quickerway. That fair neck and the edge of the
scimetar will be made acquainted tamorrow.—,
Then thy body will be stripped and exposed on khe
public* highway, till the hungry dogs devour it."
A isealden paleness overspread the fade of the
Greek—his dark eye closed, and he would harp
fallen, had not Hassan caught him in his arms.
" Your highness!" he exclaimed—"this is no
boy—it is a woman."
" Ab !" cried the Pacba with kindling eye, "you
are right—and a woman fit to be the - light of the
Sultan's harem. But for my vow-Lbut that I bad
sworn that all the prisoners should die,4 would re
serve her for myself. But she revives." "
The Greek girl, for inielyshe was, recovered the
use of her faculties, and pushing Hassan aside stood
elect again, and nerved herself for termination of
the interview.
" You have betrayed yourself, fair infidel," said
the Pacha, Wit milder tone than he had before as
sumed. " The fear of death will too much for
your nerves."
" You shall see that I know how to meet it with
the firmness of a man. Ida of Athens is equal to
her fate." '
eg Now, by the beard of the prophet! this is glo-
How news !". cried the Pacha. "Thou art the be
trothed of the dog Demetrius, the leader of last
nights onslaught. Wert thou as beauteous as the
prophet's !evilest Loud, thou shouldst die. Away
with.her Hassan; the prisoners die at noon—re
member !”
" To hear is to obey," was the answer of Hassan,
as he led the unfortunate Ida 6m the Paella's
presence.
At the approach of the appointed hour, in the
centre of a square of Turkish infantry and cavalry,
and in the presence of the Pacha and his mounted
stall, a block was prepared, attended by an execu
tioner bearing a ponderous scimetar, the instrument
of death. Within the square, and on the left oldie
executioner, stood the handful of doomed Greeks,
among whom Ida -was conspicuous by the beauty
of her features, her dress, and her heroic bearing.
Before the etrectittoner had received his orders
to commence his savage work, the bugle sounded,
and an officer advancing to the Pacha, announced
the arrival of two messengers from Missolonghi,
the bearers of the flag of truce. The Pacha imme
diately ordered them to be set before him; and in
obedience to the command, Demetrius and Gerald,
mounted on fine horses, rode up to the Turkish
commander. A faint cry escaped the lips of Ida,
as she recognized her !Over.
Pacha," said the latter, " I come to treat with
you for the ransom of yon boy."
The Pacha smiled bitterly.`
" What interest," he asked, "do you feel in that
—that boy ?" -
" He is the don of a friend," faltered Demetrius;
'. I would save litm for his lather's - sake."
"You will be sorry, then, to learn," said the
Pacha col "that on the hour of noon he dies.
Dog fan infidel," he added, fiercely, " do not
thi to blinkme. Yon is no boy—it is Ida of
Athens, your betrothed. Ha! ha! am I not aveng•
ed ?"
" Pacha !" cried Demetrius, as the Cold drops ol
agony stood upon his brow, "you know me well;
I am your deadliest enemy—the sworn foe of your
race. In the cities of tho minarates, the Moslem
mothers are yet weeping for their first born, Plain
by the sword of Demetrius. Only Isar nigh{ I made
your bravest bite the dust, and even yet my leader
ship may save Missolnnghi. Well-1 offer you
that hated life. Liberate .yon captive and receive
me in her place."
" Pacha I be finn ! listen not to his proposal !"
cried Ida.
"I hate thee, Greek dog !" answered the Pacha,
through his set teeth, " but youryleath alone is in
sufficiently to satisfy that hate—l would not have
thee die till thou ham quaffed the cup of Misery to
its dregs. The means of wringing that prOnd sent
is in my power. Your beloved dies. , Rentain and
'Fitness her death, or go back to Missolonhi and
fell them, when the shadows begin to fal l to the
East, Ida of Athens is no more."
"At least," said Demetrius, you will, permit
one last word to the prisoner 1"
"Granted," said the Pacha, "fir it will Only add
to the agony of both. ,But be brief."
At a motion of his hand the ranks opened, and
Demetrius rode into the hollow of the square.
"Ida," he said, .in a melancholy 'voice, "our
days of happiness are numbered. Greece, I fear,
is fallen—our dreams of felicity and glory is dis.
palled. I came here to die for you."
"I could not have purchased life at snch a sac
rifice," replied Ida "Go, dearest, we will meet
in'a better world. Go and tell them at Missolonghi
that Ida is happy in dying for her country."
"Ida! there is one hope," whispered Demetrius.
"This barb is fleet as the very winds of, heaven.—
Your foot and sinews are light as the Fazelle's.—
Spring up behind me and away! They can build!
us—and it will be so sweet to die together."
In an instant the little Greek girl was on the horse,
her arms around her lover's waist. ~,With the bound
of a panther file fleet annual sprang with his double
burden. Gerald was-beside them.
" Fire!" shouted the Pacha, rising in his stir
rups, as he headed the pursuit.
A rattling volley of musketry instantly followed
the command, but the Confusion of the soldiers and
the bounds of the flying horses disconcerted their
aim. Winged as the wind, the Greek horses sped
upon their way, and the lovers and their friend
were soon in Missolonglti.
That night, in the same"ruined church which had
been the scene of the council of war, the patriarch
united the hands of Demetrius and Ida belore the
ruined altar. The ceremony was brief, anip,suited
to the crisis. The bridegroom was armed to the
teeth, and the bride, unveiled and unadorned, wore
yet her Amazon attire. A yataghan hung by her
side, and. a brace of pistols were stuck in rhesilken
rash that encircled her slender waist.
ILENARDLESS OiIiNENUNcLATION - rum ANY QUAIITER.'
"The gates of Missolonghi are opened," said the
patriarch; "the foe wilt soon enter. Go, all , who
are able to meet them. Your only hope is to cot
away through their ranks with your4ood swords—
to remain is to perish."
" But you, fatheir—whit is reserved Ile you!"
arced Demetrius, anxiously.
"The crown of martyrdom, perhaps," replied
the old man.
" Cre with us !" cried Ida. "We will place
you on a horse, and bear you off in safety."
" Daughter," replied the old man, "it were *Ain,
I am tottering on the brink of the grave—the effort
alone would kill me. Leave me here—the chiireb
where 1 worshipped'as a child—where I have min
istered as a priest, is the fittest tomb for Noti Boz
zarias. Farwell, my children, and may Heaven
bless you."
The clash of arms interrupted further remon
strance. Demetrius and Gerald mounted their
steeds, placing Ida on another horse between therti.
Thus disposed, and surrouhded b' devoted friends,
they rushed to meet the advancing foe now pour;
ing into Missolon& through the open gate. A
furious battle limed, but the handful of Greeks cut
their way out into the open country.
Meanwhile the infuriated Moslem immtlated the
city. A few who like the patriarch had refused
to quit the place, retired fighting to the church,
where they arranged . themselves with their venera
ble leader ; before the ruined altar.
a Bravely done, my friends," said the patriarch.
" We have done our utmost—we have struggled to
the last—another blow is vain. Hither come the
oppressors and destroyers of our nation, sacrifice
us at the altar of our faith, where they shall meet
their reward. In the vaults of this church lies a
store of gunpowder. Behold the match is burr.ing
in my hand—the train lies at my feet. Let us
commend our souls to Heaven—tour hour has come."
The patriarch anil his followers was still kneeling
when the Pacha antl,a portion of his troops burst
into the church.
. " Kill every man !" shouted the infuriated Mos
lem. " Spare neither youth nor gray hairs, but
destroy them utterly in the name of the Prophet!"
The church was filled with savage men—rank
on rank rushed into the sacred enclosure—eveni
some of the spat-is pushing their snorting horses
forward in their thirst for blood.
At this moment of anticipated triumph, the
Greeks rose from their kneeling attitude—a spank
of fire gleamed at the altar's foot—a rushing sound
ensued, then an awful burst of subterranean thun
der hurling victor and vanquished, Mussulman and
Christian, priest . antl soldier, to destruction.
Demetrius and Ida had turned to look their last
upon their late abode, when-the earth shook be-
neath them' with sudden thunder, and a vast vol
ume of smoke and flame, filled with fragments,
material and human, told the awful story of the
patriarch's vengeance.
" Now there is nothing left to linger for," said
Gerald. " Ride forw rd, my dear friends. Mis
rolonghi has fallen but her foes have perished'•
Men did Demetrins and Ida; when seated at the
hospitable fireside of Gerald Falconer, recur to this
scene, and when, after the battle of Navarino, they
returned to their country, they erected a simple but
striking monument to the memory of the Patriarch
of Missolonghi.
How To Aorronten.—We must consult the' 'gen.
!lest manner and Bones seasons of address; our ad.
vice must not fall, like a violent storm,bearing down
and making thrive droop, whom it is meant to cher
ish and refresh. It must descend, as the dew on the
tender herb, or like the melting flakes of snow; the
softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the
Jeerer it sinks into the mind. It there are few
who have the humility to receive advice as - they
ought, it is often because there are few who have the
discretion to convey it in a proper vehicle, and cap
qualify the harshness & bitterness of reproof, against
which 't orrupt nature is apt to revolt, by an artful
mixture of sweetening and agreeable ingredients.
To probe the wound to the bottom with allboldnesa
and resolution of a good spiritual surgeon, and yet
with all the delicacy. and tenderness of a friend,
requires a very dexterous and masterly hand; An
aflablis deportment and a complacancy of behavior
will disarm the most obstinate; whereas, if indtead
of calmly pointing out their mistake, we break out
into unseemly sallies of passion, we cease . to have
tiny influence.
How TO BE MISERABLE. -Sit at the window and
look over the way at your iteobor's excellent
mansion,' which he has recently bought and paid
for, and sigh out : "Oh ! that I were a rich man."
Get angry wi.h your neighbor, and think you
hare not got a friend in the world. Shed a tear or
two ; lake a walk in the burial ground, continually
saying to yourself, "when shall 1 be buried kern?"
Sign a note for your friend, and never forge}
your kindness, and every hour in the day whisper
to yourself, " wonder it he will pay the note 1".,.
Think everybody means to cheat you. Closely ex.
amine every bill you take, doubt its being genuine
till you put the owner to a great deal of trouble.—
Believe every dime passed to you is but a sixpence
crossed, and express your doubts about getting rid
of it after...you take it. •
Never accommodate : if you can i possibly help
' Never visit the sick and afflicted, and never
give a farthing to the poor.
Grind the laces and hearts of tne poor and un
fortunate.
Setctoc.—,The bar-keeper of the Troy Dredging
Machine having discovered the infidelity of his
wile, seized a dough-nit on Wednesday last, and
stabbed himself to thekhealt. Unless he get's by
ter, there are-bet faint hopes of Ids recovery.
TOM !foam—The ever truthful and merry
Tom Hood, defines a laugh to be " the felt blown,
flower of ulna' a snide 6 the bud.-
MED. • s., r.
BY YIUNGIS k..DITRIVAGE
"Rob that horse down well, and don't feed him
till he is perfectly cool."
These words were addreeged to an hostler of a
hotel at Brighton, by
. ft handsome middle aged gen
leman, dressed in the bight of tashion, as he alight:
ed from an elegant black horse, and tossed the
reins to an attendant.
"And now," said the horseman, addressing the
-waiter, "show merinto s privateparliaa?._ . I . _
A well dressed man, who rides a handsome nag,
is always sure of a warm welcome, all the world over.
Our friend soon bound himself in a neat, well fam
ished parlor, with flowers in vases on the mantle.
piece, and theblinds, for it was a warm summer's
afternoon, carefully closed, while the open win
dowel permitted a tree current of air to circulate
through the apartment.
The waiter remained standing near the door.—
"Any orders, sir V 3
" No—yet stay; who came in ; that handsome
pony plimurn I saw standing in the yard 7' ,
"A lady, sir."
" A !"
" A young widow, sir."
" Bah!"
" She's very handsome, sir."
"Go along, and shut the door after you." mut
tered the traveller, testily.
"A woman and a widow !" he soliloquized,
I'm glad I don't know her. lam certainly very
fortunate to have attained the age of forty without
any feminine entanglement. Independent pecuni
arily—not ill-looking, I think I must admit that; I
should' make what those busy bodys the match
makers, call a grand catch. But, thank my stars !
I have preserved my independence and content so
far, and lam not likely to succumb now. No, no!
Jack Campion was born to live and die an old
bachelor. And now for the newspapers while my
horse is baiting."
In the meantime another horse:lan had alighted
at the hotel, prom a horse reeking with sweat, and
literally unable to put one foot before another.
The same hostler—an Irishman—made his ap.
pearance.
" I'at F' said the rider, a young man fashionably
attired, " put my mare in the stable, and do the best
-ou can for her."
" Orb ! Mi.ither Traverse, she's kilt entirely !"
" I'm afraid so."
" What the divil made you crowd her so ?"
"No matter is my sister here?"
" Yis, sur. Bill show the gintleman in to the
ladies' parlor ; he wants to see Mrs. Leslie."
"A h, Bell aid the young man, " you here ?"
" Yes," repfki a beautiful,young woman, rising
to 'meet him. "But what is the :batter with you?"
'' Nothing, Bell, nothing."
"Something is the matter. Y!ou look flushed
and excited."
"I've been riding hard."
" That's not atl 0, tell me what has happened."
" i must be brief, then, for I am pursued."
" Pursued !"
" Yes. You k ow that fellow that insulted you
in the coach the tuber day," replied the young man.
.." Well, I have ben on his track )or more than a
week. I met hitn to day in the street, and gave
him a confounded horsewhipping. , I handled him
very roughly, I'm afiaid. He instaptly gat out a
warrant against Tee, and not wishing to be dragged
into court till I was ready, I mounted my horse and
gave the °dicer the slip. Perhaps I'd better have
waited and hassled it out; but , ' having taken this
step, Inri bound to baffle them. Tomorrow I'll
snrrutuleil myself. Now, Bell, it your pony will
take me \ o your uncles in five minutes, lam your
man." \' \ I ,
" Poorlit't.ey couldn't do it," said the lady.
"Theq i make another arrangement. By, by,
Bell; l'lNee 01 1 at the villa."
From the d Wlng room the young man rushe d .
into the enable. \
" Pat," said he\ '1
give me a horse—a good one."
" Soma the her wev'e got in the stable except
this black, and that belongs to a gintleitart who
came here jilt afore ygz. Oeh, but he's agood one,
though, yer unner; 2,40 to a sicond."
" I'li borrow iim," said Traverse, jumping on
his back. "Tell Bell to drive the gentleman to the
villa, and he shall have bim again." _
" But, yer anner," ronnnstrated the hostler.
It was in vain ; Traverse had set spurs to the
horse, and was oil like a thunderbolt.
"Oh, wirra! wine ! wina !" said the hostler,
what'll beeomo of me ? I'm ruined and undone
entirely. !"
Shortly allerwar‘Mrs. Leslie rang for her pine
ton, and at the same time !ii• Campion the old
bachelor, ordered his b i ome. The pony came round
to the front door, and ;the young widoW stepped
lightly into the phmtonl and took the reins.
' "All right give himlhis head," she said nodding
with a smile to Patrick.
• " Och! it'e all wrong, my lady," replied the host
ler keeping tight hold of the reins. " Your car
riage can take two inside."
' Very well. But I came alone."
" You've got to take a passenger."
" What do you mean!"
Och, wirra L yOur brother has been stalin a
horse,".
" Stealing a horse?"
" Iris; this gintleman's, and he said you were to
take him to the villa to get the horse back
but
" Very singular," said the wido w , " but William
was always very eccentric."
At ibis crisis Mr. Campion appeared.
" My horse ready ?"
t• Jump in sir !"
1 didn't come in a carriage."
"In. mil yeez!" shouted the hostler.
"Take a seat beside me, I' yon please, sir s " said
e widow, wills her fascina ting
Mr. Campion appmaehed ihe steps to inquire the
„meaning of ail thifi when the hostler, seizing him
With
. a vi6oroes quint him into the phmten,
. 1
while the pony; startled al the movement, dashed
off at a run.
Poor Captain Campton! Here was a situation I
A confirmed old bachelor bodily abdected by a
fascinating young widow. The captain had inland
his assistance to the lady in managing the pony,
who was shortly reduced to his usual alow and
steady pate, and then, after thanking her Com Pe n,
ion for his assistance, Alm a Leslie told him that in
a few minutes he should be put in' possession of
hie home, which had been borrowed b a gentle.
man. This was all the explariation she vouchsafed.
She requiredilw turn; tobs•inade acquainted with
the name of her companion, after giving her own.
In a few minutes the captain began to feel some,
what more at ease; in fact, he began rather to bke
his position. He had never sat so near a . pretty
woman ►n his life; and he begin to ask himself
whether, if the proximity was so pleasant for a fetter
momennts, a constant companionship-might-trot
prove as agreeable. When tier attention was en
gaged upon her pony, he had an opportunity Id
study her features. Her large dark and luminous
eyes seemed to be literally swimming in liquid lus
tre. Her cheek was as. soft and bloott►ing Millie
sunny side of a yeach. Her profile was strictly
Grecian, and her parted lips showed a row:oftiny
pearls, as `white as snow. The most delicate of
taper fingers, encased in French kid, closed ripen
the reins, mid the varnished tip of a deintji shoe,
indicated a foot that Cinderella - might have envied.
" Do you live far from here madam ?" asked the
captain.
"Not very lar. The pony can mend his pace if
you are in a hurry."
" Not for the world. The pace seems to be
very last one."
The widow turned those witching black of here
upon the old bachelor, and smiled. h seas gIl over
with him. When he sprang out at the gate of the
villa, and touching the fairy fingers of the widow,
as he assisted her to alight, his heart seas iireltiera
bly lost.
A red faced old gentleman in his dressing gown
received them at the door of the hall.
"My friend Capt. Camp / ion, uncle," said the
widow. "Excuse me a moment, sir,"
" Very happy to see you, sir : " said the old gen
tleman. " Walk in—a warm-day."
" Very," said the captain. And ind'eed his looks
seemed to corroborate the statement, for he was
red as a peony.
The captain and the old gentleman were soon
chatting together familiarly, and the former felt him'
self eornpletely . at home. Alter half an hour vent
in this manner, his host eicused himself, end the
old bachelor was left alone.
A dreamy reverie was interrupted by the •ottnd
of voices in the ball. The captain easily recognized
the widow's, and a glance through the half open
door showed him that her companion was a very
handsome_ young gentleman.
There, dear Belt," said the young Man, "don't
scold me any mote. I won't do so again, I prom:
se you. Give me a kiss:l
A hearty smack followed. It was or verOabis,
genuine kiss—the captain saw and beard it. A
pang shot thrfugh his heart.
"The only woman I could ever love ) " he said
to himself. "And she engaged."
The widow tripped into the room. It .he was
pleasing in her carriage dress, she was perfectly bey
witching in her drawing room attire. Campion ,
conj., nova. ..rcr Ora whole Of that truncate tarry Rm.
" My dear sir," said she, "your horse is at your
service new."
Campion rose
" But," she added, "if von will gay end take
dinner with na, my uncle will be very much grab•
lied, and 1 shall be pleased."
" The coquette," through Campicm. "1 am much
obliged to you, madam but 1 have another engage•
men t.'
"Then we cannot hope to detain you sir. Rut you
must allow me first to present you to my brother."
The handsome young man has now made hie
appearancei,and shook hands with the bachelor.--; ,
"That's the horse thief, captain," said the widow,
laughing.
The young man apologised, and explained the
circumstance which impelled him to take the libel.
ty. "I am very sorry," he. added, "that we cannot
imprOve the acquaintance thus casually spade by
enjoying your company at dinner. lam sorry rou
are otherwise engaged."
"Why, as to that," said the captain drawing off
- his gloires, '• Your offer is too tempting, lir. I fell corn.
pelted to accept it."
So his horse was remanded to the stable, and he
stopped to dinner. After dinner they hail music,
fir'. Mrs. Leslie played and sang charmingly. Thin%
he was persuaded to stay to tea ; and in the Over.
ing the family' rambled in the garden, and the*.
min secured a ten minutes Idea fete with the tie.
tow, in a summer house ovetrown with-Madeira
vines, and inhabited by a spider and six earwigs.
hr was ten o'clock when he mounted. his horse to
return to Boston, but it was bright moonlight, and
he was romantically inclined. •
The next morning he repeated his visit, and the
nextand the next. An] in short the episode of
the borrowed horse p►oduced a declaration, and an 4,-
acceptance; and though years have passed away,
the captain has no occasion to regret his ride with
the widow in the pony phaeton. •
Tat Mos A ern- or TI I cWoomi.—The whiskers of
o lion, like those of the common cat, are from point'
point equal to the width of animal's body; from
ing conneeted with the nerve of the lija , they lo
cate through the nicest feeling any obstacle which
ay present e oteiasicvm of h's • I the
prevent the- rustle of leaves and boughs, which
would give warning to his prey Vile were toatteiript
to pass through too thick a bush; and thus, in'een.
junction wiih'ihe soli cushions of his tee!, 'and the
fur on which he treads, -- (the retractile elaws never
coming in contact with the ground,) thity en.
able him to steal towards his victim with a stillness
greater even than that of the snake, %The creeps
Along t h e grass and = not pctcerve4l tilt he.is culled
loam' his ray,
fi;\'*, '
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