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A:. lc. Ocriitsti.ll;_:Vropittirr.
LOVE AT TEE WOOD-PILE;
"BORN FOR BETTER THINGS."
BY E. A. - Mr. 11.
. tall boy of fifteen, with a pale,;bigh fore
head, large hazle eyes arra lustrous brown hair, i
may be seen in -the kitchen:yard : di. respecta
ble farm house, his slight figure swayingto
and fro with the motion of a wood saw. 'His
acarde more than baby hind looked sadly
out of , place -encircling that huge :brown
handle, and the knee that rested upon the
tough hickory stick trembled in its attempt
to steady it properly as he toiled bray
i•
°ll l;tit a pleased dZi4ession rested- upon his
fine countenance - , for directly opposite, upon
another fog, sat a young girl, who smiled
iipoiz.him sweetly as be worked, and at every
pause of the saw cheered him with pleasant
words. -
'The white muslin swept -- the grothrd, her
straw gipsey lay roiiing to and fro upon a
pile :of newly -he*n chips, While her- light
brown curls floated gracfully over polished
temple Ind ivory neck: Just ,now her large,
liquid, blue eyes swam in tears, which tallied
not with the sweet smile upon tier - lips, and
her clear, musical voice assumed a soft, low
undertone, as it continuously, addressed the
young laborer at each succession of the ever
lasting, discordant saw.
"I say; Eddy," she said soothingly, as his
slight ahest rose and fell with the quickened
respiration occasioned by over action, "you
were 'not - always what you seem to others,
not me, to be now. There -is a something in
-your - face and form-that tells of genteel birth,
of early intelleatual training. -Look here,
Eddy, I am two years your senior: the world
cal% me a young lady;' I am. what she is
pleased to call 'educated and accomplished;
the daughter of a ,New York aristocrat, Paul
- McClure, Esq., With sundry other titles stitch
,a upon his coat. I am here visiting my aunt
Sophia;-Iris respected country sister, who is
not-a whit the less aristocratic for being ac
cidentally settled upon_the finest, farm in the
country;; but I profess to have common sense f
to knoW nature's nobleinen when I meet them;
to appreciate moral worth under the brown
frock, and - to detect the fire of genius under
the ashes of. poverty. But, now saw on, since
it must be so for the present, for I see my
most proper' Runty_ is peering, over he spec
tacles through the window,.. wondering no
. doubt, that her lads neice should prefer the
'woodpile to the: clean, 'cool parlor, and
Godey's last.;
•
An the young lady restetrher -head upon
her hand, and waited for another -cessation of
• exhausted..strenztti, then proceeded— *
" And- 1,,,Ed.d -- y, have been sent to this said
.. .Collins farm, by the Ruler of all destinies. to 1
see and feel :'or you; to speak rfesi*ara-,71n:
g.,
ID your youn tried heart; tb co:ingid4o:-our
sondition, and devise some plan for. your es
cape-from • the burthens which, should be
borne-by stouter :tacks. Eddy, this evening
shall take my usual, stroll alone, away down .
.by the brook; where-the willows
.meet over
water, and the one. plank - forms a frail,
footbridge, when I see -you coming as usual
for the, cows, I -will meet you and walk with
you and who knout. the result. Your consent
my brave boy!"
He answered with a low, "I thank you,'
and a -gash of - tears, and lifting , her gipsey"
frem the 'chips at her feet, she arose'and
. .
walked slowly to the garden.
A ,new ligikkindled in the of Edwin
Mole, gliminering like sunshine through the
rain drops, the light of hope settling' in! rain
bow tints upon the.:Clouds of sorrow which
had ldng hung darkly- over his young life,
unbroken by a single golden thread.-
".She is very beautiful," be said musingly
to-himself, "but-what can she 'mean con
sidering my condition,' Ind devisina some
way . of escape., fo - r me;' A probably slie *e±-
_pects to be married, and have great house
noon,
and she will give me a home in it.'as a
rind of, genteel servant, and make my work
and give me books to- read, Ah, me!
it would be pleasant to servo her only; but
her husband; I fear I shoidd hate him, and
lily heart would swell altnost- to bursting
when I met his proud scornful looks. Would.'
td God that Iliad died long,- long ago, that
I were quietly sleeping besides my dear moth
er, for no matter how kind the master, or`how
beautiful and good the mtstress,it is Still hard
to be a slave. \V et did she say 'about the
fire of genius under the ashes of poverty
Yes, yes, I know that I am talented; some
unseen power continually whispers in my ear,
`you were kern for , better things; those Wbo
rule over you now, making your life bitter
ness are tint your equals; courage, courage; ; "
none - but the - craven skid despairs. Edwin
- " Hale, your name-shall - live after you.'
"My. father laid his white hand upon my
. head, hot with that-last fatal- fever,- and
blessed 'his poet - child; and my own beatiful
mother prayed with her dying link' that God
would preserve her darling boy from the
' shafts-of malicious envy; that his highly in
tellectual gifts might 'be the especial care of,
Him ..who lovei the orphan. Yes, ..I know that
I am talented, but what,availkthis -knowl
edge! . • • .
" What avails it he, repeated aloud,
",everything!
.It shall! -shall-avail!" and
he sung aWay the saw indignantly, his task
naw nuished, and throde,away with the air- of
a prince. . •
A few hnrs later found Urn' in a happier
mood, with the clear l*lit of hope-in his eye,
and' a sweet smile uptin his lips i ,.weraling his
way towards the meadow where the willows
'interlaced each other Over the braok,.and the
qlie ...plank formed a rude foot bridge, and
While yet many - a rod away; he caught a
glimpse of her white muslin moving about un
der the trees, and her straw gipser swinging
upon a branch.
With a bounding pulse•and a quickened
pacehe went forward, and in another minute
she diet hini with both han extended, reas
suring him by her sweet sisterly welcorTne.
!` And "now May, sit 'down," she- said,
right here upon tbe turf beside me, for I
Lave, much to say,-and Wt little time to say
it in KO if If• Lou! be long away; that
model 'aunty of mine might imagine me
guilty of an impropriety, tie thousand forms
•of which she understands so well, and send
the maid, after me in hot haste. •
Well,' Eddy, I. have begun in earnest
Dow you will excuse me WI talk-too-fast
for dignity. You are inisplaced,ill treated,.
crushed by Tour position, and•you:shall be
removed into a more congenial sphere: I,
Mary MeCiiire,`say it, and now how tsliall
this be done What Say you; Eddy t has
•
rour.boy intellect any suggestion to offer!
If not will you bear and obey your affection
te sister!"
" Dear lady, you are kind and geod, I will
do whatsoever you command. Now I' am
but a poor weak lad, and no one cares for
me, no one loves me, lint if ever r grow u 2
to . be a man, and you in. turn should need
a friend,l will go to tlarends of the earth to
serve you; only write me, that's all."
" Spoken ;like a true knight, and noble
man as you are now, for such as you know
no childhood save in physical dimensions.
1 will remembii, dear brother, for doubtless
my life-path will lose its sMashine, sorrows
come to all.
"But hear me. To-morrow I alien leave
the farm." '
- "SO soon r
Yes, darling, -but you are to go with
me."
"Me!
"Yes, sir, you.",
"Bow can that be, without money , or
clothes, and am I not bound to Mr. Collins!"
-" Never mind that. Just fifty miles from
this farm upon another, quite as good,
though occupied by. iless'aristocratic fami
ly, I shall set my city foot at three o'clock to
morrow.
4 ` I shall say, to my aunt Sophia at break- help 13416 Tinimake bay, andruzi`after her
that I have decided to curtail my visit ries; and who is this, your companion I you
with her and go to my - uncle Tim's, lest he are welcome, my boy, walk right in—glad to
may think hard of me for not hastening - to see you pall," and Uncle Tim chattered away
se.e him, as well as herself,
.and now that I while the trunk was duly deposited upon the
am become an accomplished young lady, low vine wreathed portico.
with my college diploma, in my pocket— , Eddy! looked at his simple brown frock and
hem ! and she knows that lam fitful and un- coarse shoes, and then at the plainly dressed
steady, and always take my own way when I farmer before him, and felt be was now in the
'cannot get it,otherwise ; and she will not ob- presenc4 of a true man who would not under
ject. - -tate him pn account of his poverty.
"Well tha depot is three miles Off, and old , Maryiwhispered to Eddy, and he sat down
James, the overseer; willlave to drive me out; upon the porch, while.she followed Uncle Tim
and you cannot go in the same carriage, of into thelparlor. .
course. But you know old black Ben, who Shouts of merry laughter rang out upon
drives the little brown -mule to the truck the stilllair, and every now and then heavy
wagon, and brings, fish.,, fruit, and all kinds of footeteo weiittramping over the floor. Tears
summer commodities to our country _ folks; rolled over the-cheek of the sensitive listener
Hatter' myself I have succeeded- in getting upon the. porch, for he felt that he was in
the right side of Ben, so that be would not some say connected with those unusual
refuse me a favor, if anywhere in the boon& sounds. I Uncle Tim was in extasies, and Ma
of reason, and I will step over to his house ry, silliest provoked at his levity, was never
to-night to inquire after his sick mother; theless at intervals constrained=-to add her
poor old Hannah, I' have Watched with her treble to his astounding bass. - .
many an hour—and then I will call Ben to "You are right, Mary," he said at last, de
the door and < tell, him the whole story, and murely,l" the first glance I had of that boy's
ask him to . take you there twenty m - m- fade I knew that he was hot born to be the
utes in advance, and stow you, away slave of Hiram Collins, and my august sister
safely; Until James shall have politely seen Sophia . ; he is a-child of genius; poor boy I ( mgr
,me . . on' board the cars, and then, let them
_b o y. And an orphan ! oh what a world 'of
whistle at the farm. suffering -that word calls up; dome, let us
"Uncle Tim loves me: He is N an old call him in—l love him already. - You were
bachelor, living all alone with a- housekeeper my 'only elild and heiress, dear Mary, but
and one servant ; I will. go in a few steps irto i; since it is your -will, I will take this lit
advance. Ai.° ''...'-
# • ..t street, New Yt, .- , it I
—.(l ien " -" ' f6 - vr'i. --T t' bird of genius to my . bosom, and
ne as toy own son." ,
c.t . ' I; '..1. - ...,,t -t ~....- oemb u t...a.a..,...tatn„. ac I l , C 0...- i
- 4 n'! 4 ; .-e , ...,t a...y r .. 4 ,, ,-.7, 1 ,-,,,_,,, .....0ur.. , 0,..-. ~. 1 :.- 3it 1);., • i.,)&l , tus neck and wept for joy,and
heis, be will hid yt.ll welcome, and takerk.:.. 'Then th6y summoned Eddy.
I .
steps in your behalf as will greatly amelior- 't I knew it Eddy. hold you he was kind
ate your condition. -and godti k myaown blessed Uncle Tim," said
"NoW, Eddy, you start with the cows at Mary, dtasping both hands of his in her own,
the usual time, and, if`you do not see old and then transferring his to her uncle's.'
black Ben before you reach the meadow, you , "An I will be your uncle, too, my dear
may set me down in your dictionary as no hop from this day forth forever, so help m,e
plotter. - -.- God," 4nd good Uncle Tim-clasped the poor
"There, now run for -the cows , and to- ,
• , orphan ?.o his bosom.
morrow' Uncle Collins' will whistle for his Edwin Hale - had found a second father.—
.
cosys'and boy too, II opine; if I change my_ 'Variou emotions, joy, hope, gtatitude, and a
arrangements I will notify - you after I see old
N strange subdued sorrow swelled his heart: al-
Ben. . - - Most to burstit.g now, and he wept.
: .
And home she went; that city heiress,
with her heart full of love and-good will to
wards the poor orphan boy.
-" What—out -so late, dear ! the dew is
falling, and besides it is hardly proper for a
young lady to walk out so often. alone—re
marks might be made."
" - Dear me, Aunty, I -would not outrage
your views of firopriety for the world, but
such- . a thing as.a bean proper doesn't vege
tate pn Collin's farm, - and I hardly tffink
Uncle, with his , gouty foot would • be willing
to gallant me; but—will you pardon the
whole truth—l had sor escort a part of the
way in the person of Master Eddy, who wits
on his way, to the cow pasture."
" Eddy—the cow pasture, ha! ha! ha!
welt, - niece, I cannot scold you now for
laughing., A young latly, just graduated ht
one of the first Institutions in America, taking
'a romantic stroll to the cow pasture, ha! ha!
ha! allow me - to take your hat, madame !"
And aunty Sophia enjoyed the thing im
mensely.
, .
At four o'clock next day. all was confusion
and consternation at. the farm- Eddy Hale,
the bound - boy *had not been seen since early
in the morning. The family had arisen some
what earliq than usual, that Miss McClure
might breakfast and arrive at the depot in
time. And James'had driven her out in no
very-gracious mood, -"Tor," as he said, " it,
was just the' busiest season of the sihole fear,
and be couldn't space the tithe, no . how."- •
Ed ly had partaken of his second table re
past and started away with the cows, and that
was - the last of Mal fOr that day:. He had
certainty met - . with some accident, or some
mischievous person had_ decoyed him away.
" A nice handy' lxiy, and no harm at all in
him," said UnCle Collins tb aneighbor who
offered to aid in the search, 4 1 did think at
' times, that be was a little-uneasy and flighty
in his notions, and once or . tit-ice Mrs. Collins
found some silly poetry' in his roonis, compos
ed by himself, (be went to school steadily so
long as his mother lived' ai4 then ho was'nt
very strong, but be was itiick at his Chores,
and honest, and. could buy an assortment of
groceries and settle for them like`a man.—
Upon the whole I believe I would rather have
lost one cifmy best horses than that same-Ed
dy -
. .
"lee wonderfdl strange where he's gone to,"
- . said old black Ben, elevating his "ey,ebrors
till his forehead was but a narrow beleof
wrinkles, " very curious indeed Massa Caine-,
I'm sure.l see'd him g.oin' away early with
the tows, and, he hollered otit di he ellen;
does, so pleasant like, ' good mornin' Benja
min' Well it's lwarkable sartain. He was
a putty lad, and everybody liked him, 'spec- .
ially them that know'd his father and mother
afore him. His father was a good man, a
turney at law by trade, but be was kind to
,the poor and guy away so much that he-soon
run .through with all be had. And his moth
er, well she seethed more like au angel than
a Mortal woman. And he died Of fever and
she of the long consumption, and the cbilit
was left without a cent, and so he had to be
pat out to work. s But be allers had perspirin
- notions like, and read the criterions 'and
.lectricity books that come ititis way. Well
Massa.Collins, if you want the hi,
draAged
or the well dove down into,4 can - do it (Or
WEARE . ALL EQUAL BEFORE WD AND THE CONSTITUTION.rames Buchantei.
unfroze, , nzquellannit (11,onntg, Pun t a, - (C . ftrstran ji °ruing, A - tbruarg, la, 11150.
you, for consideratiou, bui I guess as how
ornoluse,it r s for Eddy could swine like a
duck, a* as for the well, he was'nt no fool
to juttip tight down into it heels over bead;
guess better to beeal, , Massa Collins.—
send iy Bill to fetch your critters night
•and nkornin , and saw wood, fora considera
tion?. I •
And Ben touched the flanks of his brown
mule, anti walked on beside his fish wagon.
"It's no use to look after him any more,"
said neighbors one, two and three, "he's run
away likhly, and just at this busy season; pity
neighbor Collins," and so they returned to
their homes, and the half-a-day's wonder was
over.
"Frog Pond," sang out the conductor at a
little wayside depot, and Miss Mary McClure
and Eddy Hobe stepped out upon an -unshel
tered platform. A stage was there which
passed /he house of " Unele Tim," rind a
ride of tares miles landed them safely at his
1 door.
-- A hale, lnown - skinned man, in a clean blue
trowsers; nankeen vest, and eotton shirt, with
out plait or stitchibg on the bosom came forth'
from the low, old fashioned building, folded
the youdg girl to his heart and imprinted a
*kiss nob her lips.
"Mary dear, you have come just in time to
That! feeling - was- contagious, Uncle Tim,
Mary BO the housekeeper who had entered
unobse r ved, her errand to summon them to
tea, all sobbed like children ;,, and poor Eddy
srnothe ed his emotions as soon as he could,
for the sake of the dear friends around him.
One eek from that date Edwin Hale, with
a largahandsome trunk full of new,well fitting
clothes; was set down at the door of a respect
able Inititufe for boys, and " the new scholar"
soon }tame the pride of the teachers and the
favorit of the students.
Ten years later there was a social party at
Uncle Tim's farm house. A beautiful and .
stately (bride was there, and a tall, noble man
with dark lustrous eyes and sombre locks,
gazed ownd lovingly into her upturned eyes,
sayingj "Mary, all that I am, all that I hope
,for, hal been the result of your own unselfish
kindness. Next .to your own sweet self, I
honor ! and admire dear, generous Uncle
Tina..." I'
"Ad I, oh successlul attorney, brilliant
tl
- orator, and famous. poet, am fully repaid for
all my early solicitude in your behalf by the
pricelets tteasnre of your love." -
"Sister Sophia McClure Collins, please to
walk this way,"` said Uncle Tim in a loud
voice for he was a privileged charaCter,
g lhavin been - settled permanently inAis chair
for the! last year, in consequence of an obsti
nate attack of rheumatism.
"And you too, brother Paul McClure, and
sister Sarah," and they obeyed.
"Nw, sister Sophia and brother Paul, you
hare.boas aristocratic as if you h benad en
barn ith royal blood in your veins, and you
/
-
are bo Li •us proud of the -new accession-to
I your family as if you had become related to
all thforegn sovereigns of the world.
"It ow then, that yonder tall, intellectual
person se, who is just now gazing down so
fondly into the eyes of the very sweetest wo- 1
man ho ever wore white bridal slippers, was
ten mists_ ago the little overworked, bound'
boy ofl one Dirain Collins, of Collins farni,and
that eyed angel at his side ran away with
him, and brought him out here 'to her Uncle
MeClifra,lbe plain old baChelor; who happen
ed to hitie a heart under a rough jacket.—
And now, brother Paul and sister-Sophia, I
have i6iiited you to meet here, that we may
have n pleasant merry making at the old hoine
stead pon the occasion of the late marriage
of my niece. You will be happy to hear, no
doubt } that Edwin P. Hale, Esq.. has been
educated and maintained, until recently, by
plain ')ld Thin; and if he-continues to Walk
uprightly until Tim lies-down to rest in that
curtained - chamber which will only be opened
to let ; i n the light of the morning of the restir
rectio be will find himself heir to the round
sum of fifty thousand dollars. Do ! Eddy,my
hoy, dome up to kinds Tim's old arm chair,
and lii us bow it happened that you did'nt
term he-Coivs i
/
titoihe pasture of a certain Mr.
- Colli 6, of Collins farm, on the morning of the
third iif August, ten years'ago,f l '
, Mrs. Collins blushed,' and Mr. Collins
1" aliemed," Mr. Hale smiled; his bride covered
I her mischievous face with her fan, and then
there lyres se embarrassing silence of several,
i mcinidirts; for Edwin was more puzzled to know
`what Ito say Man if be bad been suddenly
called ts
out to address an audience comp6ied
of On at*/
Just in time:A) relieve him - of the dilemma,
Uncle Tim bud forth into one of his great,
grand, honse-eaking laughs, that rattled the
very china in to pantry, and rocked the four
tall sperm cadles on the mantle•piece; at
least it Po seered to the guests, who caught
the contagion istanter, an 4 if the chins and
candles only speared to rattle and rock, the
illusion was thwesult of .their own personal
vibrations.
" Uncle Tins rheumatism was greatly
mollified by threnjoyrnent of that old - fash
ioned " home begin," and in a few weeks
he was runnintabont the farm again.
Uncle Tim es never induced to visit New
York, for he ha a horror of all cities, but his
niece spent may weeks at his house every
summer, and Ir husband rode out often dur
ing her stay. is seemed to yearn for their
society the ma as his steps faltered on the
extreme westa slope of life; and although
he never lost li cheerfulness, he , smiled more
pensively at tht parting moments.
One cold Mch morning-a letter arrived
at their city hoe, subscribed by the old house
keeper at the tm. It contained the painful
intelligence th her employer was sick unto
death.
They set oufor his residence immediately
and only arrive to receive his last look of
love and see thlight of intelligence fade out
from that benimat countenance. .
"I
-have loceuim even more than a father,"
cried Mary, wih s l burst of grief, bowing
her head upon e bosom whose beat of life
was gone.
"And I, whoad no other earthly parent,
have lovedlihroii, how intensely. I never
knew the depth! my attachment to him un
til this sad morat.".
Arid the strooluan kissed the pale lies of
his silent beuefaor, and wept—a veiy child
again
Wha world were this,.
•
[low pnendurabl4s weight, if they
Whom death hattundered did not meet again."
The Robb . of the Wabash.
A THRIIING ADVENTURE.
In the swum of 1832, I was engaged
with a young sn named Lyman Kemp
in locating lanthts alOng the Wabash,. in
Indiana. I had Oe out partly for my -health
and partly to acmodate one -who had ever
been a noble frie to me, who bad purchased
a great deal otgenarnent land. At raven
port be was tall', sick,..and after Watching
him a week, i bpes tbat be would soon re
cover, I foun tnt he had a settled fever ;
and, as the by icon said be would not be
able to univOtt nuder a month, I determined
pus h ° otiose.
to So I. obtained a good
ue i ri Oaling sets thm my friend 'would
n ha T :e 'rAvc:thing necessfiry to his comfort,
which_laony cOuldprocure;l left him.
10 goo"foriJile biavia ;•
a party oix men bound on the very route
that Lwrffoing, and waited one day for-the
sake Zeir company. At length we set
out, vii three pack-horses to carry. our lug
gage, .4 I soon found I lost nothing by
waitinifor my companions were agreeable
and eutairlisg. They were going to St.
Josephybere - they had lands already locat
ed, anwhere they had mills upon the river
intend to get out lumber the remainder of
the sears..•
On 1. third .day from " Logansport we
reachedValton's Settlement, on Little River
—havirleft the Wabash on the morning of
that da: It was well on into the evening
when wrenched that little log built inn of
the settinent, and we were glad enough of
the sheh, for, ere we were fairly under the
cotter, tl rain commenced to fall in great
drops, al thickly, too. And more still I
had to Ithackful, for my horse began to
show alueness in one ofhis hind legs, and
when I liped from the saddle, I found that
his foobained lam very much, as L could
tell by .imsnner in which he lifted it from
the growl. I ordered the ostler to bathe it
with col water, and then went into the
house, were we found a good substantial
supper, nd comfortable quarters fur the
night—lint i, comfortable quartets for that
country a tht time.
About en 'clock, just after I bad retired,
and just as I was falling into-a 'grateful
drowse, I w astartled by the shouts of men
and barkingf dogs, directly under my niti
dow. As thinoise continued,l arose, threw
on my cloth; and went down. "What is
it 1" 1 askedif the landlord, who stood in
the entry-wa.
"Ab ! don, you know, stranger ?" said the
host, returrug "You 2 ve heard of Gnstus
Karl, perhapi'
•
Who, in de west, at that time, bad not
heard of hie—the most reckles, daring and,
murderous nbler that ever cursed the coun
try. I told the host that I had heard of him
often:
"Well," hi :entitled; "the infernal villain
was here onlythis afternoon, and murdered
and robbed span just on the river. - We've
been out afte• him, but.he's gin us the slip.
We trackell fun as far as the upper creek,
and there hefame out on the bank, fired at,
us, and kills one of our horses, and then
drove into th woods. We set, the dogs on,
but they losthim."
"And . yoUve come back fiorseless 1" I
said.
"Yes," flu landlord growled. "But," he
added; with :a knos : ting shake of his head,
"he can't minicar much longer. The country
i 6 s r i t n .e. a d rzs i , pd atd .,, he'll either leave these huntins
"What i sat of a Man is be 1" Laskud.
"The verylast man in the world you would
take for Gus Karl. Ile is small—not a •bit
over, five felt six ; With light curly hair, a
smooth Whie face, but pot very stout. But
Lord love ye he's quick as -lightning, and
his eye's got fire in it.—lle dresses in .all
sorts V shapes, but generally like a - conunon
hunter. Oho! he's the very devil, I do be
lieve."
After the tub full of whiskey and Water
which tbeloat hnd Proyided,. was.all drank,
the crowd began to disperse,
and - shortly
afterwards I went up again to bed; and this
time I slept uninterrupted till morning.
"I bad just eaten my breakfast; and had
gone out the front door, when a. horseman
came dashing „rip to the place, himself and
withal all covered with mud. It had been
raining all night. The first thing the new
causer did was to inquire for Me. I answer
.ed at once to the name, and be then informed
me that Lyman Kemp could not live, and that
be _wished to see me u soon as possible.
"The doctor says he must die," said the
messenger, "and the poor fellow only asks for
Life Fong enough to you."
't/ , re
"Poor Lyman!" I murmured to myself.
''So young sohopeful—with 'so,many friends
and fond relatives in his far-off horne—"i and
taken down to die in a Btrano land.', I told
the man I would set but on my 'return as
quick as possible; He ate some breakfast and
resumed his journey, being, bound as far up
as the Pottawattotnie bordei.
I settled my bill, and thee sent for my
horse; but a bitter disappointment awaited
me. rfound the aniriaitl's foot swollen very
badly, and it pained him so he could•hardly
step upon it. llad the road been good, I
should have been tempted to try him; but I
knew that in some places the mud would be
deep. I went to the host and asked him if be
could lend or sell me a horse. Hoicoula do
neither. _His only spare horse bad been shot
by the Wabash robber. There Al's not a
horse in the place to be obtained for any
mount of money. I returned, to the stable
and let out my horse, but he could not even
walk with any degree of ease. I could not
use him. I was in despair. s
"Look'e," said mine host, as I began to
despond, "can't you manage a canoe."
"Yes—very well," I told him.
"Then that's your best way. The current
is strong this morning, and without a stroke
of the paddle, %would take you along as fast
a horse could walk through the mud. 'You
Shall have one of my canoes for just what it
is worth, .and ye can sell it again at Logans
port for as much."
I caught the proposition. instrintl for, I
saw it was azood ones -
"rf you daren't shoot the rapids," added the
landlord,. "ye can easily shoulder the canoe,
and back- it around. :['isn't far."
I found the boat to be a-well fashioned
"dugout," largo enough to bear four men with
eaae, and at once paid the owner the price—
ten dollars-and then had my luggage brought
down. I gave directions about the treatment
of my horse, and, then put off. The current
was quite rapid—say four or five miles an
hour—but .not at all turbulent,. and I soon
made up my mind that it was far better - than
riding on horseback. The banks of the river
wore thickly covered with large trees,' and
saw game in plenty, and more than once I
attempted to file the contents of my pistol
at the boldest of the "varmints," but I bad n
time, so I kept on. Only one thing seethe
warning, and that was a compaiiion, but - I
was destined to find one soon enough.
It was shortly after noon, and had eaten
my dinner of bread and cold - meat, when I
came to a place where the river made an ab
rupt bend to the right, and a little further on
I came to an abrupt basin where the current
formed a perfect whirlpool. I did not notice
it until my canoe got'into it, and found my ,
self going round instead 61 going ahead. I
plied My wood paddle with all my power,
and soon aucceededja shooting. out from the
- re'ndlg in '" . '' I II ; 11 Tett yre,
the low san . -Ana e ort a al e
ma not a little, and as I found myself thus
suddenly moored, f resolved to rest a few
minutes. • • .
I had been is this position some ten min
utes when I was startled by hearing a footfall_
close by me, and on looking up I saw a man
at the side of my -boat.- lie was a ybutig
looking person, not over two-and-thirty, and
seemed to be a hunter.—lie wore a wolf•skin
shirt, leg,gins of red leather, and a cap.of bear
skin. t .
. "Wlr ‘ ich way are you bound, stranger 1" he
asked in a pleasing, tone. •
"Down the river' to Logansport," I re
plied. _
"That's fortunate. I wisfi to go there my
self," the stranger restrined.f "What say you
to my taking the other paddle and keeping
you company."
• "I should like it," I told him frankly; "I've
been wanting conipany."
"So have I," lid the huriter. - "And I've
been wanting_soirie better mode of conveyance
than those worn out legs through the deep
forest."
"Come on,",t• said ; and as I spoke, be
leaped into th canovind having dispositedhis
rifle in-the bow, he took one of t'he paddles
and told me he was ready when I was. So
we pushed off, and were soon,clear of the
whirlpool:-
For an honi we 'conversed foely. The
stranger told me his name was Adams, and
that his 'father lived at .Columbus. Ile was.
out on a hunting and exploring expedition
with some companions, who had gene on to
Logansport by horse, and having got separat
ed from them in the night, and had lost his
horse into the 'bargain. Ile said that he - had
a great sum of money. about his person, and
that was one reason why he disliked to travel
in the forest. .
. .
Thus he opened his affairs-to me, and I
was fool enough to be equally frank, I admit
ted that I had some money, and told him my
business, and by a most unpresuming course
of remark, he drew from me the fitct that
rl had money enough to purchase -forty full
lots.
Fiaally the conversation lagged,_ and I be
gan to give my, companien a closer scrunity.
I sat-in the stern of the canoe, and he was
about midships, and facing me.—llis hair
was of a light, flaxen hue, and hang in kit'
curls about his neck; his features were regular
and- handsome; and his complexion, very
light. But the color of his face was not what
one would call fair. It was a•cold; bloodless
color, like pale marble. And for .the • first
time, too, I now looked particularly at his
eves. -They were gray in color, and had the
brilliancy of glazing ice. Their light was
intense, but cold and glitteting like a snake's.
When I thought of his age I sat him down
for not much over thirty.
Suddenly a aharp,e,cold shudder ran through
my ftame, and my. heart leaped with a wild
thrill. As sure as fate—l knew it—there
could be no doubt-1. had taken into my
confidence, Gustus,Karl, the Wabash Robber.
For_ a few'motuents I feaded my emotions
would betray me.- I looked carefully Over his
pers'on again, and I knew I Was pot mistaken.
I could look backnow and see how Cunning
-1y he had let me--,on to a confession of my
circumstances—hpw 6 had made me tell
my affairs, and i reveal the state of my
finances. What a fool. I had been f But. 'it.
was too late to bink of the past. I bit&
enough to do to ook out for what was evi
dently to tome, 1 .
I at length managed to overconie all my
outward emotions, and then I began to watch
my companion more .sharply: and
,closely,.
gy pistols were lio,th headband I knew they
were in order, for ,I had examined their both
! in the forenoon, when I thought :offiring at
seine gaine:
They were in the'breast pocket of my coat,
which pockets had been made on purpose
for them, and I could reach them at any in
stant. Another hour . passed away, and by
that time I had become assured that the rob
ber would snake no attempt upon me until
after nightfall. He said that it would be
convenient that. we Were together, for we,
could run , all night, as one could steer the
canoe while the other sldpt.
" Ay," I. added, with a smile, " that is good
for me, for every hour is valuable.--2 would
not miss meeting my 'friend for the woild."
‘93h, you'll meet him never fear," said my
coMpaniop...
Ah ! be _spoke that with a meaning. I
1:1141e rti tood it well I know what that sly
tone, and that stratste gleaming of the eye
meant. , He meant that ne would put me on
the road to meet poor Kemp in the other
world! I wondered only now that I had not
detected the robber when I first saw him,
for the.expression of his face was so heartless,
so icy—and then 'his eyes had such a wicked
look—that the most utilsraOced physiogno
mist could Uctlsive Failed to detect the vil
hats at once. _
frankly eoo
d During t
.sseboeemnt
e le
that
,autbp r e uto z hti t ie n
an o vo f the iiitni
ae
soi afternoon als,sf_iireeeyeeysspoke,a.ns
,eb were
cons
versed
nond roeithen
lie seemed inclined to avoid my direct glances. I
These movements on his
,part were not stud
ied, or even intentional . ; but they were in
stinctive; as though his very nature led him
thus. "At length slight came on. We ate
our supper, art& then smoked our pipes, and
flintily my companion proposed that I should
sleep before ho did, At first L thought of
objecting, but a few Minutes reflection told
me that I had better behave as though he
were an honest men; so I agreed to his pro
position. Ile took my seat at the stern, and
I moved farther forward and having removed
the thwart, upon which my companion had
been sitting, I spread my .cloak in the bot
tom of the canoe, and then having placed my
valise for a pillow, I lay down. As soon as
possible I drew out one of my pistols, and
under the ,cover of a cough, I cocked it.—
Then I moved My body so that My right arm
would be at liberty, and grasping my 'weapon
firmly, with my finger on the guard, I drew
up my mantle, slouched my hid; and then
settled down for my watch.
Forttinately fur me the Moon was up, and
though the forest threw a shadow upon the,
yet the beams fell upon Karl, and I could
see his-every movement. We were well into
the Wabash, hqing .entered it about three
et:lock. •
"You will call - M . 6at T said
•
drowsily.
"Yes," he returned.
'Good night: 4 '
"Good night—and pleasant dreams.— I'll
tiara you furtheF on your way than you think
"Perhaps so,"• tneugiti. -
lowered n4y bead, and pretendedto lower my
self to sleep.
For half an hour my companion steered the
canoe very well, and seemed to take hutlittle
notice of me ; but at the end of that time I
could see that he became more uneasy. I
commenced to snore with a long, regularly
drawn breath, and on the instant the vinain
started as starts the hunter when be bears the
tread of game in the woods.,
But hark ! Aha—there was before one ling
eringfear in my mind that I might shoot the
I wrong man ; but it was gone now. As the
'fellow stopped' the motion of the paddle, I
I distinctly heard bins mutter :
"0
-ho, my dear sheep—L - 3'ou little dreamed
that Gus Karl was your companion. But.,
he'll do you a.good -.turd.---If your friend is
dead, you shall follow him, and take your
traps to pay your passage to heaven.",
I think these were, the very words. At
:thy rate, they Were their drift. As he thus
spoke he noiselessly drew in the paddle and
rose to his feet. I saw him reach over his
left shoulder, -and when he brought back his
hand, he had a huge bowie-knife in it. I
could see the plade gleam in the gale moon
light, and I saw Karl run his thhmb along
the edge, and then feel the point I My heart
beat fearfully, - and my breathing was hard.
It was with the utmost exertion that I could
continue my:snoring, but I managed to do
it without interruption. Slowly and noise
lessly the foul wretch proceeded to approach
We. Oh! his step would not have awakened
'a hound—and his long; gleaming knife ta gs
half rated. I could hear the gratin" , of his
teeth as be nerved himself for the stroke. p
The villain was by my side, and measured
the distance from his band to my-heart with
his eye. In, his left batidi.lie lold a thick
handkerchief all wadded up.. That was to
stop my mouth with, Every, nerve in my
beady was now strung, and my heart still as
death. (if course my snoring ceased, and at
that instant the hhge knife was raised above
nay bosom! quick as thought I thought my
pistol up--the muzzle was within one foist of
the robber. heart :—he uttered a quick cry—
I saw the bright blade quiver in, the moon
light, but it cause not upon me. I pulled the
trigger; and the last - fear was past. I bad
thought that the weapon might miss tire,
but it did not. There' was a sharp report, and
as I sprang up and backed, I heard •a fietce
yell, and at the same time the robber fell
Forward, his-head striking my knee as it. came
.
down.
Weak and.faint I Rank back, but a sudden
tip of the canoe brought me to my senses,
and I went off and took the paddle. As soon
'as the boat's . head was once more right, I
turned my eyes upon the form in the bottom
of,thc . .canoe, and then I saw it quiver—,only
a slight spasmodic movement—and then nil
was still.
• All that night I sat there at my watch and
steered - my little bark. I had, my second
pistol ready, for I knew not surely that the
wretch was dead. Ile might be waiting to
catch_ me off my guard, and. then shoot me.
But the night passed sloirly and drearily_
away, and when the morning broke the form
had not moVed, Thou I stepped forward and
found thataustua Karl was dead': He had
fallen with his knife true to its aim, for it
struck very near - the, spot where my heart
must have been, and the point was driven s..
far into the solid wood that: I had to work
hard to Pull itout, and larder, still to unclasp
the marble fingers that were closed with dy
ing_madoess about_the handle,
Swiftly flowed the tide, ' and 'ere the-son a
gain Sank to rest I had reached Logansport.
The authorities knew the face t of Gustus Karl
at, once, and wlnat I bad told them my story,
tlieY poured out a thoudand thanks upon my
„„. 4546 L
.1'
tiotAmt 15, _ 7.
head. A pave. - was 'raised, and' the offered
reward put with it, And ten ered .to me.
took simply the reward fro .n- the, generous
citizenq,while,.the remainder directed ihould.
be distributed among those Rtro had' suffered
mot from the Wabash rOhbeeridepredation.
I found Kemp sick and miserable. He Was
burning with fever, and the doctors had -shut
Win up In a room- where a Well titan . must
soon have suffocated. ,
"Water--water l In God' name; give me
water l" he gasped.' 1
"Haven't you. had any IP I tsked.
He told me no. \I threi op n the windows;
sent fur a pail of 'ice-wat r, and_was on 'the
point of administering hen the old doCtor'
came in. lie held up . hi hen& in horror,
and told me ft would kill theliie.k man.. But
I forced him back and Ke p.drank the,gmte ;
ful beverage. Ile dran deeply and then
slept., The perspiration • .ured from him like'
rain, and when he awoke thei skin was moist,
.and the fever was turned In eight'days be
sat in his saddle by my s
Little Riser. At Walton
my horse-wholly ricover,l
ed to pay for his keeping
nothing. The story of n i
river leached there idle
was the landlord's gratit,
'ork Mercury.-
SACRIFICE;
D'VOTION.
7
BY LIEUT.
• From tho
THE TERRIBLE
OR A DAUGHTEIti
in a neat, tasteful dice,
pf the Hudson, lived th.'
her only daughter -4 yo .z
—aud her sou, a Bina!'
of alp.
In the year 1830, abr.,'
the date at which our si
body of Mrs. Gray's luta!):
lying.a short distance 'fr
theemarks of vtolence ups
of Mr. Gray, who was a
of the city, produced a
meat, and several•persor,
were arrested on su‘
witted the deed. The. were; hOwever, soon
discharged, when an o d gipsey woman living
in that vicinity appet red and made the fol
lowing staterrient,• to .is effent t . ''' ' •
That while. sitting under the shailetif an •
old tree, on the night of the ;murder, she ob
served a man leave he Ironic of Dr. 8.--LL---, •
whom she recognized as the deceased: After
leaving the house she observed him leisurelir . -
approach the spot where slie . .iat. On casting
her eyes towards . - the "Louse t the same mo
ment, she saw another figure stealthily leave .
the premises, and swiftly and quietly follow
the foctsteps of Mr. Gray; and, when within
. c. 0... 5 ,...,1, of him, arnaeli ticwn holhind so - roc,
bushes skirting the path..iAll at ()rite she
l_. La,' al.. LI, •..i..- 5 :. f ... ~v n ...Ifni a rariSaSl7. ldr.
the nest moment a matiri_ishp.d by her wtth a .
piStel in his band—thatman she could take
her oath, was Dr. B. • TliW. was the giPsey ••,
woman's statement, and it appeared the more • ~
plausible, as Dr. 13—;*- 1 =- had disappeared from.
the premises in a mysterious Irnanner, and had
not as yet been heard of. 'llte servants were
questioned, but they could give no account of
their master's whereabouts. , A vigorous
,*
search was made by the authorities, which; -
however, proved ituitless; ino trace of the.
—_
murderer could be found. 1. . . .
Dr: B---,nt.the tittle of his disappearance;
was a young man of twent:,l-five, and_single:
lie had already obtained considerable.celebri-,
t'y in his profession, and was; known t'o be re- . -
maikably skillful in the• ente Of fevers. It
was known that be had led - a
very •extrava-. -_
gant life, and had borrowed large sums of
money from Mr. Gray, which the latter, a few
weeks, before his decease,, bad often called
upou liltti to pay.. It was, therefore, general
ly Conjectured that: the young physician had .
murdered him, in Order to get rid of a troti
blcsothe creditor. 1 . .
The death of her husband had Linen a se
vere blow 'to Mrs. Gray, add it was thought
at that time that she would( become insane;
but she finally recovered ,from the dreadful,
delirium Which had at, first threatened her
life. her whole affections *ere then centered
in the offspring of the unfortunate man; and .
'as hs had left her comparatively wealthy, she
spared no means in the bringiug up of hei
two children. -
As I previously remialkedi, Ellen* was now
seventeen; and little Willie; Ityr„,* brotlker,:ii
years of age..
_END was 1:1044 affection- •
ate in manners, and as be4ut . if4 asshe - was •
good. It is not to be supposedlkot so fair a. -
flower could long esdape then prying eYes..Of
those,btainless fops who - go - about in search
of treasures-of this description. But Ellen
looked upon all these miSeritblo specimens of
men with the utmost contelnpt, arid bad at
tained the ago of sixteen w contempt,
experienc
ing, in the stighte4 degree,l the heavenly in
spiration of love. - I • .
This state of thingsilowever, was - . destined
not to last 'much longer. Thereat' length
came one whom Ellen bored with all the af
fection of her young and trustful-heart. This"
individual was . a young slls* siciari named '
Charles Reynolds, who 'tilts; rapidly attaining
celebrity in• his profession: 1 In personal ap
pearance,he was very prepatessing, at, least to
._
Ellen. Not above the infdium height,. his
figure was gracsful and firm ; his lititbs* well
rounded, and bis'frame compact; his forehead
wsis broad and high, and llis large grey eyes
continually gleaming with the restless fire of
a poweri;nl intellect-- To 'Hen he confided
1,, ..
all the inspirations and ho ~s of the honorable
ambition which tired his sOul; and she , listen:. •
ed to him with pleasure. Iliad interest. One
day, as they were both sloltly walking tow
ards the house, they met a 1 tall, dark looking
stranger, Who, as they passed him, looked
keenly at Ellen.:
• " Did yod ever see that ,t3nt. l e nian before?"
inquired Reynolds, - afterl they had passed
him. ' .
"No, I don't recollect s that
\ I ever did."
answered Ellen. "Mrs i r is something • eVil
looking in his eye." ; - •
"Depend upon it, lie lis -banging about
these premises for no good ri answered ,
Rey
nold. _,. .
When. Ellen and Iteynolils entered the house
they found that little Willie had been taken
suddenly sick with a high fever. Rey noldit
instantly prescribed such remedies as, he
thought would be most:. likely -to cheek its
course, and then bidding them adien, took
his departure. Little Willie - ' hewiiYer, gOrr
worse and .worse, each (14 hid breathing bi.;-
(Contipued - ortfeuurth 7 .o7) . . •
Mi2l
MNMEI
de, jand started for
settlement I fodnd
!d, ehdwhen I iitTer
the ' l host would take
witenture bn the
,d of the, and this_
•
-on the bant'S .
Widow Gr-tv- with
•
i ngindy of seventeen
boy about six„years
• .
,ears prior to
ory'opens the dead
tnd had been fund
na the house, ith
on The mu er
sell known merchant
great deal of excite.
sin the neighborhood
eien 'of having cam-