g£ DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. TOWANDA: Thursday Morning, October 28, 1858. [From Chamber's Journal.] TUi jiILOTBBAIIS, ]. SKTTISU OCT. The bell rings, the curtain rises and discov ers the actors in our little drama. A middle a-fd. stontlv bnilt man, who would have been pjod-looking, but for the deeply graven itn .,regions of anxiety and hunger which his face ! diihitcd: he was arrayed in an entire suit of flesh-colored tights much darned; round his head he wore a fillet, that hail once been glow in.' lace: but all its lustre had gone, long, joii.' a-zo, and it looked like a piece of dirty tip? : yellow oehred canvass shoes, terribly Craved and jagged, end a pair of faded crimson u .;*vet trunks, on which a tarnished spangle, banging here and thete by a piece of yellow thread, showed that they had once been elab oratilv trimmed, completed his attire. Two ,-tttv pale-faced little boys, dressed, or rather in precisely the same manner, stood [,v. looking on dejectedly, yet listening with interest to the conclusion of a dialogue between their father and a hard-featured, elderly wo man, of whom the whole family seemed to .•and in awe. These formed the group to which 1 would direct your attention. • The long and the short of it is, you'll have to turn out! I could ha'lct this room, times *' often, for three-an'six, an' here 1 only iharge * u half a-crowu an' that you won't I*J.' ■ II n't pay, Mrs. Niggs ?' replied the poor father. • Well, leastways, you don't pay. To be iire oour missis give me her bit of best gowud Tfstmlav, as a kind of security for the rent; bit what's the good o' that t It's nowt but a old merina.' • It was her wedding-gown,' mildly expostu lated the ivonntebunk, heaving a sad sigh as rethought of tne happy sunny morning when fIM the 4 old mcriua' adorned its then gay owner it was Iter wedding-gown, and joor .\gms wouldn't like to lose it.' • Tit may be; but 'tain't no use to ww it'ud O'llv tit a haif-starveil shrimp of a woman like ber." 'But Mrs. Niggs, you've got my watch A trumpery, old-fashioned thing, as big as a warming-pan!" said .Mrs. Niggs. it was dear grandfather's,' sighed the poor man. Tain't worth half-a-.urr/"g,I know,' retorn it • nevolent Niggs; 'an 1 want seven weeks' rent of yon this very day. Now don't ,w no more! talk's no nse; it won't fill my •x-kets: it's M' >iev I want Why don't you with them two lads ? Aou said you nd do nowt yesterday an' the day before for :;ie rain: it don't rain to-day.' 'Why. certainly, it dusen't rain to-day, -aid the father, walking to the window i rubbing a pane of glass with his arm, to he had A warm cloth dress, a large woolen shawl ikrn-hicf, and thick double-soled boots, i biiiii'd. it ain't cold for the time o' year; fine g wiather. 1 call it—make the boys niv to l>e out in it.' But.' said their father, ' they haven't broke tlieir fast yet: and* It's only twelve o'clock.' interrupted the un me landlady, 'an' many's the good chris ten as hasn't had their breakfast yet, let A no mountebanks an' the noeddicated scum, cli I looks on as bathings! What matters whether yon take your lads out afore their or arter ' You shouldn't induig-* " appetites overmuch ' Here the father glanced at the attenuated "us of his young ones, and replied only by a :n,:ul shake of his head—the children star z ea*ne.-rlv at Mrs Niggs, as if wondering • her notions of ' indulgence' might be. A • v> Mtv loaf and a jug of water had been the r lr v .sion within the walls of their wrvtch ' garret for the last four-and-twenty hours; .st morsel of the bread had been demob • i :.>r eap|ter the night previous. I '•ere.* added Niggs. as a single dab was the street door—' there's the gal with > aider and taters from the baker's. I •' k> going. ti>r 1 hate my victuals cold. sa ,Mi r '. ii don't jmy up like a man, afore Thurs - -ut y u go! Take them little creelers >treets. an' see if they can't earn a ■- • a call it—a trifle. as I call it: " way the money's as good. Grumble the weather, indeed! Why, for the time year Drat that gal! she's left the -i ->r ajar, au' the draught conies up tiieui r - eooagh to cut a body in two —u-u-gh.' '"-i :;ng ami shivering. Mrs. Niggs lump 'u. y down stairs to scold the 'gai,' *nd '" ■" : to -olaoc herself with a pint of hot - i a good substantial dinner, the steam ' - ng smell whereof ascending to the -' ■LUiit.k s garret, brought tears into his * he tnrneil awav from his hungry chil *<>t daring to meet their look*. So ho i* room h- people Jo when excited or or nnhappr. or hungry, perhaps; w. ho was all thosae at once. First 1 ked to the dingy window aforesaid, gn 'he heavy clouds. then down at the - b saying mournfully to himself: There to c a downfall, for the pavement's 'Wnp. ami that's always a sign ' Then 1 "* ' v the almost empty grate, pat on the aiaing morsel of coal, fanned it with •""■•.ii .uto a liny flame, titan back, again * dow, laen again to the cheerless fire •geiing about, and busying himself let* nutters as sweeping the hearth - • e -flaky mantle-piece with a remnant Ctowu s cap; ami, finally, sctUug a THE BRADFORD REPORTER. low, ricketty wooden chair before the miserable attempt at a lire, saying, in as cheerful tone as he could muster: ' Mother'll be coming in soon, my lads, and then 7 ' Aud then, will there be bretfas, daddy ?' asked the youngest boy. ' Yes, yes, Midgkins; at least, I hope there will.' Here the poor fellow took the boy on his knee, drew Alfy towards him also, and tried to beguile the time until mother should come, by hearing them repeat the little songs and hymns which that mother loved to teach them. • Now, Midgkins, it's yonr turn,' said the father, after Alfy had gone through his little hoard of knowledge, aud yet no mother, and no breakfast. Accordingly the child began to recite, and prettily too, that infant favorite, The Busy Her, but when he came to, ' with the sweet food,' Ac., his voice failed him, the tears started into his eyes, and he wept loudly and bitterly, with his pale tiny face hidden in his father's breast. At this moment a weary step was heard slowly ascending the cracking stairs. ' Mother, mother!' shouted Alfy who sprang to open the door. Little Midgkius's eyes brightened up; his father set him gently down and hastened to meet his wife and release her from the burden of a baby some ten months old which she carried with great difficulty, for the woman was slight and pale, half-starved, and half clothed. The most cursory glance might serve to inform vou that she was indeed the mother so anxiously waited for; she was so like her boys. The same expression of patient endurance was oil her long thin face and in her meek blue eyes. A girl, who might ha>e seen two summers, toddle! in, clinging to her gown. The child's nose was red, her cheeks blue, and her eyes were filled with water; it was evident indeed, from the apjiearance of both the chil dren, and the mot lit r too, that the morning was intensely cold. Alfy met his sister, took off her lilac cotton bonnet, which, long inno cent of starch. tlap]xx! uneasily ever her fore head.' He next divested her of an old, coarse, brown overcoat, made originally by mother for Midgkins to wear over his fleshings, but which Lucy had on because her own green stuff pe lisse had week been converted into a din ner Strangely enough the lire seemed to burn brighter as soon as mother entered the room ! She sat down: Midgkins climbed on her lap: Alfy took ) >o session of a low stool, seated Lucy on his knees, and began chafing her |oor lialf frizen hands and feet; while father untied baby's cloak and hood—put on certainly more fur appearance sake than for warmth, foul young mountebanks in succession having woru them completely threadbare. ' No nse your long walk, I know, Agnes,' said father ' Very little. The gtiardians gave me a sshillin?, and told me—not gruffly, but as if they were sorry to say it to me, for they look ed pit'fully at the poor baWs—they told me that the turn-out and the lock-out together had made matters so bad that in justice to their own townsfolk, they oughtn't to have given me even that, and that I musn't trouble them nirain' On the mention of a shilling, Alfy quietly filled the small tin kettle, and set it on the now sparkline fire, slipped on his overcoat and cap. ami then nodded to mother, who of course understood him to mean: ' I'm ready to go to the shop.' She flopped the coin into his hand, and away he trotted ou his joyful errand.— During his short absence, what preparations Midgkins and Lucy made! how they bustled about: how they set out the odd cracked cups and saucers, the two battered leaden tea-spoons and the old broken-spouted browti tea-pot!— Father meantime recounted the particulars of Mrs. Niirgs's visit, which grieved his wife, al though it did not suqirise her. Laden with a loaf, tea, sugar, and two red herrings. Alfy returned, and the whole family—in spite of landladies and turn-outs, and the cold weather —enjoved a hearty meal; bahkins (baby I mean] tucking in wonderful quantities of weak tea and sipped bread. Door fellow! the ma ternal nourishment must needs have been but scanty. Rreakfast over, everybody looks more lively: father thinks that, * after ail. the snow mayn't come to-day;' mother fancies * the weather's rudder than it was two hoars ago:' aud the bovs button on their i >ats. 4 Well, well, we must even try onr luck.' snvs the mountebank: we most see if we can't get as far as Eglinshorpe: there's a fair held there to-morrow. It's no use trying the town again; what with the strike and the dearness of food, po r folk"- can't give, and the rich ones never stop to look at us. Keep up yonr spir its. Agnes; jx'rhaps we may make a pitch at some village on the road; and if we do, I'll send v u half of whatever wc get; so look ont for a letter.' S' saving he strapped a dram round his wait over a miserable ragged pray coat, and pinned a litlle square of worn carpeting over Midpkins shoulders; Agnes tied her own cot t*n shawl ronnd Alfy, kissed her boys, said pood-bye to them and father, but still seemed to linger about them; and when they were quite ready for a start, she laid baby on the bed, followed them down stairs, kissed them onee more, thrust the remains of the loaf into Alft's pocket, and whispered to him: 4 lie kind to littie Midgkins T Mother watched her treasures in their progress down the street; and when they were quite out of sight. she turned away with a heavy heart to iter infant charge in the garret. Poor ■other! wAy was her heart so heavy ? Often ami often had she heen separated from her husband ami the boys foe three or four days at a time, while they nnrsnrd their calling. Why. then, was ber i heart so bear? * 11. THE ItOOR. On they wcut— the mountebank and his boys— through dirty, poverty-stricken lane*— on. on. through dark, dejected looking courts and narrow alleys where father thought it just possible they might raise a few pence. Iu frmt streets and bustling thoroughfares, be I was aware that uotse wouiu be tempted to stop PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O MEARA GOODRICH. aud admire their performance. Indeed, had a few spectators been, by some wonderful chance, collected iii any snch locality, the police would certainly have interfered with the customary gruff ' Move on there!' After threading in numerable intricate passages, and tortuous by ways, with which the mountebank seemed j>er fcctly familiar, our little party emerged into a large open square—in former times used as a hay-market—which,being surrounded by work men's cottages, was a place where, perhaps, an audience might assemble; so father began to beat the drum with all his might, Alfred star tled the neighborhood with the clash of cym bals, aud little Midgkins shook his tiny square of carpet, byway of giving ' note of prepara tion' to passers-by. The drum and cymbal overture continued for full ten minutes before any condescended to notice the efforts of the performers. Three or four workmen having just dined, then sauntered to the doors of their respective dwellings; where they stood a while, leisurely smoking their pipes and enjoying the fresh air; a few children, too. attracted by the noise, formed into a group to witness the pro ceedings of the professionals; and a young we.juu with an infant in her arms leaned out of an upstairs window of one of the adjacent cottages. Father cast his practised eyes around, counted heads, and shrugged his shoul ders. He drummed away for another five minutes, and then took auother survey of his audience, but without anj satisfactory result, if one might judge from the rueful expression ol his countenance; however, he muttered to himself: ' We must make the best of it, 1 sap pose; it's the only likely place for a pitch ut this end of town.' Giving a ffurt of sideways nod to the boys, thev took the cne from him with great alacrity, divested themselves of their coats and prepared to dazzle and delight all beholders with the splendor of their wardrobe, and the combined grace and agility of their movements. Un luckily, just as these preparations were com pleted, ding dong, ding dong, went the large Ml of the nearest factory, and. obedient to its summons, away walked the workmen. A mo ment after was heard the tinkling of a school bell, wheren]>on ' with unwilling steps and slow,' as if sorry to be thus deprived of the expected sight, the admiring scholars moved off. Father and boys, perceiving that no chance remained of earning even the smallest pittance, made ready for their departure. Just as they were walking sadly away, the yonng woman at the window called ont: 4 Hide a bit: I've summnt for the little lads.' Presently out she came bringing a jng of hot tea and some thick slices of bread and butter, saying, ' Vou mun eat this, and take this tea before you go any further, poor things! You'll do but little to-day,for it's beginning to snow.and yon can't net in the wet streets. God help you! There! Stop a bit,' she exclaimed, as Alfv gave her the empty jng— 4 Stop a bit!' She ran upstairs and returned with an old scarlet muffler and a green cotton neck-tie, which she gave to the mountebank to wrap round the children's throats. He received them with many expres sions of gratitude—so much kindness was some thing rather unusual. 4 1'se sure you're heartily welcome,' said the friendly giver ; 4 I wish I could do more for you; but my man's one of the turn-outs, and we've now't hot the e lection brass to live on. Gool-luck to you, master, and to your pretty lads, wherever you go Ah! tliere's no knowing what one's own poor little 'uns may come to in this hard world.' Here she hugged her baby fondly to her bosom: and nodding a kind farewell to the street-artistes, she disappeared. Perchance, comfortable read er, you wonder how these children could find an appetite to enjoy a second meal so soon after their breakfast; but, remember, these boys had existed in a state of semi-starvation all thru lives ; and iu such cases the craving for food is incessant. 4 It's useless to go home without money ' thought the poor mountebank. ' I could no more face Mrs. Niggs than I could face a tiger; | so, we'll step on, be-t foot foremost; and if the weather doesn't turn out very bail we enn be at Eglinthorpe by five o'elock. Tom Whit lock's sure to be there with his tumbling-booth; he'il be glad of ns, and pay ns well too. for the fair-day. Let's make a start, boys! Come! Cheerily, ho!" Thus raonologning, ami leading Midgkins by the hand, he turned his back on the town, with little Alfy bringing up the rear. At the outset of the journey, the young sters were lively enough, and prattled on, in childish fashion, about 4 w hat they'd do wiien they were older; w hat pains they'd take with their |x>-turing ami vaulting; ami how they'd get a situation in some graml circus, where an immense amount of salary would be theirs; and how joyfully tiiey'd give it all to father and mother, who sliould never be ragged or hun gry any more.' Ti: • mountebank smiled on thm compas sionately as he listened : he remembered that long years gone by. nr. too. ban in their calling ; but his career had heen an unsuccessful one ; and though it would have been the pride of his affectionate heart to have cherished the declining year< of his aged parents, it was not to be; and, as I said before, tbey died in the workhouse 4 Clieeriiy. ho, Alfy ! Give me jour hand, and I'll help you along.* So father led bo'.h boys : and when they had walked nearly five miles, aud begun to look tired, bv their great delight he opened his inexhaustible budget of oft-repeated tales, to lighten the tedioo* uess of the journey. First, lie related the anecdote of Alfred the Great and the bnnietl cakes ; then the story of William Tel! ; after these came the fable of the shepherd boy ami the wolf—all of which, though heard for the twentieth IIUK at least, awakened iu the juve " RESARDLESB OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANT QUARTER." Nile auditors as warm an interest as ever ; and many were the sensible remarks and per tinent questions to which they gave rise.— Formerly, when the children were too young to be amused in this manner, the mountebank, in providiug for a business excursion, would purchase some comfits or peppermint lor.engers, and, after walking so long, that symptoms of weariness began to exhibit themselves in the .slackened pace of the little pedestrians, he would scatter sweetmeats here and there o:i the road at short intervals, aud the children, for getting their fatigue, would follow quickly to secure the tempting prize ; and when the stock of confectionary was exhausted, tliev would race with as much eagerness after a ball thrown by father in their ouward path, as ever was maniiested by jockey when conqieting for the Derby. Latterly, tales and songs had taken the place of the comfits and the ball. The sixth milestone was greeted bv the youngsters as a friend, for it told them that half their journey was accomplished ; but fa ther ap|>eared uneasy : he looked with dismay at the heavy black clouds overhead, and at the thickening snow ; it had fallen gently all the afternoon, lnt now it began to assume a threatening aspect. He stopped suddenly in the most interesting portion of The Tk.ifting llrir, which he was relating, and felt irresolute whether to return even then, or to go forward. After a brief pause, he clicse the latter alter native, for as he argued mentally, to return without having any part of the rent to proffer to Mrs. Niggs, would only provoke her to carry into immediate execution her threat of turning all the family into the streets ; whereas, if he went on to the fair, his wife and the vonnrc feeble liecame the boy's steps ; and Midgkins nestled in his father's bosom, overjowered with the extreme cold, fell fast asleep. ' Come, my boy, step out and let ns get under cover ; it's going to be a fearful niu'ht! Lucki ly, the first house we come to in Kgliiithorjc, is the Traveller's Rest: ami a kind hearted U>dy is Mrs Da v.son, that keeps it : she'll not re fuse to let you and Midgkins sit by the kitcheu fire, while I look for Tom Whitlock, and settle matters with liiin. Walk a fast as you can —Ethere's a good bov !' This the mountebank said in an anxious, husky tone of voice, for the blinding snow pre vented his discerning anything likely to prove a guide ; a thick darkness was spreading all round, and the unhappy man felt a dire fore boding of evil. 4 Indeed, father,' feebly replied the child, I 4 I do walk as fast as ever I can : But I've ! hand convulsively,and still endeavored to urge him forward. In what direction they were going he knew not. yet hoped for the best. At length, after wander ing about on the desolate, snow-clad waste for : nearly two hours, without meeting a living ! creature—the fury of the storm increasing.and | the cold, as the day wore on, becoming vet lucre intense, he yielded to the faint entreaties of pe>f Alfy, ' to sit down and rest just a lit , tie while.' He sat down with both the chil ' dren on his knees, Midgkins still -lumbering ; but not peacefully, as happy childhood >leep<: his teeth chattered, he moaned incessantly,and trembled from head to foot. Alfy was paie, footsore, exhausted. In this terrible strait, w hat was the bewildered father to do ? .Shiv ering as he was with cold, the agony of his mimi caused streams of perspiration to roll down his careworn countenance. Short time sufficed for deliberation : he rose, took off his coat, wrapped it around his boys, ami placed them in a sitting jxHture, sitting against the drum. 4 Now, Alfy,* said he, making a painful ef fort to speak cheerfully, ' I inn-; leave you for a while. Von know 1 etui walk very fa-t : and I'll try to find my way to the village, and get some one to come and help me to carrv you a id Midgkins to the Traveller's R. 4 But. father, yon musn't go without your C'>at : see what iarge flakes of snow are coio- ing down.' 4 Dou't heed w, love,' replied the father : 4 but try to stay awake, aud keep close to your little brother' 4 Yes, father, and I'll say my prayers. Mo ther always told me to pray to Gml to take care of us if we should be in trouble.' The idea of mother at that moment almost overcame the mountebank ; but bo -truggled manfully with his feeling- ; he embraced lov inglv, again and again, Alfy and the uncon scious Midgkins. lie conhl hardly persuade ' himself to go ; yet to stay, was to bring cer tain destruction on thciu, for the snow still fell, ami the darkness still increased. Alone ami encumbered, he might reach Eglinthorpe very soon—nay. perhaps, at that moment he might be close upon the village, although the darkness obscured it from his view. These cheering hopes he tried to encourage, as if to brace his nerves for the approaching trial A trial it was, and a heavy OIK-, to leave his yoang onrc in otter darkness on that dreary H>>r ; Imt it m**t be. Tie father yielded to stern necessity, ami with war- of agony, t.-re himself from the spot, ami walked away with rapid strides. It w.i all gu.-- wo:h as t> • !u.*h way he was going—all haphazard—it ' Ixiug By thio nuiv jo Uaii that, to aac a com mon but expressive phrase, ' you couldn't have seen your hand before you.' 111. THE TRAVELLER'S REST. The door of the Traveller's Rest always stands hospitably open, as is becoming in a roadside house of entertainment. On this par ticular stormy night, the snow came drifting in furiously ; and the wind, whistling along the wide passages of the old fashioned public house, disturbed the whist-players, who were enjoying their usual evening rubber in the lit tie bar-parlor. Mrs. Daw ton, from her sennr turn (the bar,) where she sat in attendance on the customers, observed this, and called out to the servant: ' Ret, my lass, thon mayst shut the front door : wc shall lia' no more visitors to-night for certain ; no laxly would venture out in such a storm ; so get thy snpjier, and to boil wi' thee—thou hast to rise early tomorrow. If the morning turns out fine, wc shall ha' lots o' fair day folk here by seven o'elock.' Hetty went to ol>ey her mistress's orders.but immediately rushed back, screaming with ter ror, and crying out : " A ghost, a ghost !'' she took refuge in the kitchen, slamming the door after her, to keep the spiritual iutruder at a respectful distance. 4 A ghost ; why what docs the silly wench mean V said Mrs. Dawson, as she put her knitting down, and came out of the bar to as certain the cause of this extraordinary conduct. On arriving in the passage, she might have echoed Hetty's cry—that is, if she, too, had been given to a belief in ghosts—for there, leaning for support with one hand on each doorpost, stood a figure ghastly to behold ! a man, gasping and struggling for breath ; his eyes bloodshot, and glaring wildly around ; his hair matted and dishevelled : shoeless ; and, in such a bitter night as that, wearing oi.lv the thin garments of a street-tumbler, and these saturated with snow. At last, the mountebank had reached the Traveller's R'-st whose friendly lamp had guided him to the door. ' Hless me !' cried the landlady, ' here's a poor chap that looks as if lie was dying. He's one of the show-folk, I see. Come in, good man ; don't stand there—come to the tire ; thou seems perished. The mountebank essayed to accept her hos pitable invitation ; he staggered forward a few steps ; uttered, in a horse whisper, the word 4 water.' when a stream of blood gushed from his mouth, and he fell heavily, face downwards. The was all astir directly ; therub!>er came to a sudden close, ami, the village doc tor, who was one of the card-players, hurried out to the sick man's assistance. With the help of the other members of the whist-partv, he raised the patient up, and !>ore him care fully into the bar-parlor, where he was de|os ited on the sofa. Joe O-tler and Hettv, too, now that her fear> of 4 the ghost' were dispell ed, hastened to offer their services iu his be half. 4 Blankets made quite hot, Hetty! Warm water aud sponge, Joe ! A glass of weak port-negus, Mrs. Dawson !' Such wa re the doctor's hurried orders ; in compliance with which, t. person addressed disappeared instantaneously, ami returned anon with the appliances above im"d. Ev ery one present lending a hand, tne hot Blank ets were quickly .'{trend, ami the insensible form of the mountebank enveloped therein ; his mouth and eyes were sponged incessantly for many minutes, but no sigus of returning consciousness appeared. 4 I'm afraid the poor fellow's gone,' said the sympathising Mrs Dawson 4 No. no,' replied the doctor, * but he's iu imminent danger . lie has burst a blood -vessel, from overexertion, apparently. We'll try the effect of the negus ;' so saying, he slowly {tour ed a small portion of it down the )aUent's throat. With much difficulty, the latter con trived to swallow it. It somewhat revived him for presently he ojtened his eyes, and gazed in quiring!)* at the anxious faces assembled round his couch ; the doctor took this opportunity to administer a second dose : and having laid the Granger in as easy a pasture as he could, began to make his arrangements for the night. Taking the patient's dangerous condition into consideration, he resolved to sit up with him all night. Mr. Dawson ami Joe Ostler volun tiir i to watch t-x> : ami it WAS agreed up MI that, at six in the morning, they sh<>ahi le re lieved by the other mem'iers of the party.— Fain would the good-natured trio of the card players have remained all night : but this the doctor would by no means allow ; so, with many kind wishes for the invalid's speedy re covery. they took their de-xirtnre. Hetty re tired to rest ; and Mrs. Dawson brought the d >r a >t:ff tuiuUer of h> favorite beverage braadj and water, hot ;aboafiuutlMMW nun pinch for Joe, ' to help him to watch.'— It di ir.T produce tin* desired effect though; for Joe, tired out with a hard day's work—he was rMit r, boots, gardener, and waiter, too, some times—after tossing off the steaming pition, h in d back in his chair, ami fell fast asleep. Mrs Daw>oii employed herself in knitting a Mocking, sipping green his fe t on the fender, was soon deeply immers ed in newspaper politics ; ami the mountebank slumbered uneasily. This was the state of affairs in the little bar parlor until three o'clock wh**n suddenly the puient started up, seized a chair which stood near him, waved it over his head, and finally balanced it ou his fort head by one leg, exclaiming in a horuea voire: 4 Bravo, bravo. Alfy ! A captial po*e that ! Ha. ha. ha ! We dial! soon eelip< R : , a leT and Sons ! Bravo ! Now, little Midgkins, it's -• nr turn ! Now for a somersault ! Here goes!" Sti ting the to the word, he was aliout to preeiptatc the chair across the room, am! through a large looking gLvs which hung over the inaiillqwiT : when the doetor, Mng nn the alert, woke Jont, aroused Hetty to assist her, and between them they quickly prepared a capital breakfast, to which all pre sent did ample justice. As the meal drew towards a conclusion, the monnte'iank slowly arose, and assuming a sitting-postnre, survey ed the room and its oecnpants with unfeigned astonishment. ' Well, my man,' said the worthy doctor, * you've had a tolerably long nap ; now, take take this enp of coffee, and if yon can, eat a slice of bread and ham; it will do you no harm. The poor made no answer, for he was com pletely bewildered, but, mechanically, he took the cup in his hand, staring vacantly around until he chanced to see the portly form of the landlady who was presiding at the breakrast table, when with the speed and force of light ning, yesterday's incidents rushed in a crowd npon his memory. ' This is the Travellers' llcst, then,' said he. ' I>on't you remem'ier me, Mrs Dawson ? You o-ed to call me Hel phegor. because, like him, I was a mountebank and, like liirn, had a pretty wife and a family.' 'So it is, I declare,' replied Mrs. Dawson ; ' it's the father of them two lovely boys as were here last fair.' At the mention of his boys, the sick man's face la-came absolutely livid with fear, am] his lips quivered as he gasped forth : 'My chil dren—art thry sift V There wn< a dead silence, for the dreadful truth flashed upon every one present. The father had been compelled to leave his darl ings on the ni'H>r, exposed to the fury of that terrible tempest, while sought aid in their lie half. The doctor was the first to speak 'We'll hope so. my good friend ' ' Ibpt ' Are they not krre ? Speak?— qnick ! quick ! quick ! You won't answer me. O, my loys ! Dead !—dead ! Wretch, —in- human !' A gain the l enevolent doctor was the spokes man; he hastened to assure the unhappy father that immediate search should be made--trietl to cheer him by expressing a hope- which he certainly did not feel—that theehildren would be found safe, and promised that every thing p>ssible should be done for thera. It's my delight, of a shiny night, in the season of tlie year !' roared ratlter then sang a rough, good natured voice, as its owner drove to the inn-door in a light cart. ' There's Tom Wbitlock !' exclaimed the mountebank, and, exerting all his strength, he gathered his blanket rour.il him, rushed out of the room, and opened the street door. ' Whoy, Jtenj, lad, lie taat thee ?' crieil the \ orkshirvman: ' 1 be reet glad to sec thee, mum ! lint what's up ? Thee looks mortal pile and thin ; hast been badly V ' Your cart—it's empty, isu't it T was the horriod reply. ' Ay. for sure.' said Tom. ' I unloaded it * good* dowu't fair ground, and now I'in for put ting Topsy intot' stable lit re.' The party, having fo lowed the pitient to the door, now, rapidly explained matters to Tom, alio with the eharactistic kindness of his countrymen, immediately {►laced his Tehielc at bis friend's disposal, resumed the reins, and would at otice have set forth in search ot the little ones; but that the divtr insisted on the mountebank's having some refreshment before he started, kat he could not; so he and Tom were e c i supp ied with a drain to keep out the cad : the exciseman lent a large blue cloak to father ; the schoolmaster supplied him with a thick woollen comforter ; Joe (fcst t< r prolnced his Sunday boots a r d stocking*, and a warm Jeered-waist-coat; and Mrs. Daw sau contributed a pair of trousers and a hat that had b-longed to h.r late husband. The (few-tor having declared that nnlcss his patient consented to pit these things on, he shoold lie detained by main force, the mounteUnk re luctantly ronscntcl to allow Joe to eipiip hiiu in tiieiu, although his impatience during the operation amounted to agony. In a few min utes his hasty toilet was completed ; Joe as sisted him into the cart ; the dw-tor furnished with wine ami other restoratives, took his scat; and the rstler threw iu a bundle Ol horse dot h.< ami a sjiadc. 'Now, Topsy.oW lass.a* .juirk a* thee caast !' shotitcil Tin; >ut the ilcptli of snow rendered *|wcl impossible. AH the inmates of the Travellers Rest. except its mistress, followed; not a worn was spifcen ; tnspnsc is generally siicnt. Tlie traveller* had {iroeceded nearly four miles without finding any trace* of those whom they sought, when stiihleuly the neumte *va.k, wln> had hitherto lecn jwrfectly motiow —'f we except a quick, nervous twitching aliout the corners of his mouth—hastily dutch* ed the doctor's arm. whispering, ' Sec ! see'! there ? The doct or looked in the dtrtrtioa indicated by his {atHiit. I*ut *hra gray of the morning presented noth rag to bis gage but one unbroken •anfj.-e %( >3o*. his u.-;ou waj not :iiaqwwd by [oreuUl