a T fk A. C. U. BUISHI.ER.
vou'rit—at
EM'M=3
wakiumE wit
AT PRIVATE SALE.
HE subscriber of f ers at Private Sale
'"'the FARM, on which he resides, sit
uartil
in Liberty township, Adams county,
(Carnin Tract,) lying upon the public
croup-roads, leading from Gettysburg to
Wayneabarg. and front Biumitsburg to
Fairfudd. tatopining
300 altra4sto
more or less. of patented lend, of which
200 Acres are cleared and in a good state
of cultivation. The balance is covered
with the very best Timber. There is a
good proportion of Meadow. The jut
itig
' provements are a two-story
ROUGH-CAST
Dwelling I louse,
wi the bsek-bullding attached, a • large
Barn, (put lame and part log) wagon
shed. corn-crib, and other outboildinp.—
There is a never-failing well of water, with
a pomp in it. convenient to the door. The
farm is well supplied with running water.
The lei:mingle good, and the farm is in the
very beat order.
JOSEPH HUNTER.
Ang. 24, 1849.—tf
FARM AT PRIVATE SALE.
THE subscriber will sell at private sale
the FARM on which Huniav Has
sum jr., now resides, situate in Franklin
township, Adams county, adjoining lands
of King Wilson, Andrew Iltinuelman,
and others, containing
11,416
more or less. The improvements are a
TW O-STOR Y
afti Frame Dwelling Douse,
a first-rate LOG BARN, with a
Spring of good water convenient to the
dour. There is a fair proportion of Tim
ber and Meadow on the farm, and an ex
cellent Orchard. Persons wishing to as
certain the terms, which will be reasona
ble will sail upon the subscriber. The
property can be viewed on application to
the tenant
HENRY HERSHEY. Sen.
Franklin tp., June I, 1849.—tl
FARM FOR SALE.
THE subscriber o f f ers at Private Sale
on advantageous terms,
eti 1.P44.111/11?
situate in Franklin township, Adams coun
ty, adjoining lands of Robert Slid:ly, Wm.
Bailey. and Wm. Hamilton. within three
miles of Gettysburg, containing
184 Acres and 91 Perches.
There are about 50 Acres of Woodland.
and the rest under gooti cultivation. There
are two
Dwelling Houses
on the Farm, a double LOG
A ' , newly covered. with sheds around
it; two wells of water, with a pump in
one of them; a sufficient quantity of Fruit
Trees, such as Apple, Pear, Peach and
Cherry. There is Meadow sufficient to
make 00 tone of Hay yearly. About 1500
bushels of Lime pave been put on the farm,
and about 2,000 Chesnut rails.
This would suit to be divided into two
Tracts. both of clear and wood land.
Any person wishing to purchase, wil
be shown the farm, by Henry Trostle, re
siding thereon. GEO. TROSTLE.
July 27, 1849-4 m
AT THE OLD STAND,
RUT ixa MEW SINOP :
J. G. FREY
ItENDERS his acknowledgments to
his friends for past favors. and has
the pleasure of announcing that he is again
located at the old stand:on Washington
street, one square south of Thompion's
Hotel, where he will be prepared. as hero
tofore, to do all kinds of •
( 'mob, Cloth, 81, Sign Pain ing.
NcreARRIAGE REPAIRING dons
at short notice. and on reasonable terins,
for which Country Produce will be taken.
The subseribir is thankful fir past fa
vors, and hopes. by attention to business,
and a desire to please, to merit and re
calves continuance of public patronage.
J. G. FREY.
Gettysburg, Jan. 12, 1249.—tf
TILE TWO EXTREMES PROVI.
DED FOR!
BATE; ate . OA PO,
ateiso4l6 4ttlighoo
Wit. w. PAinitt
111:enanitneed the BOOT &SHOE
4 , Diiiiieres, with HATS & OAPS.
as . wikewn hand* a large and coal
plioleriortmenteff
HATS. AND CAM BOOTS AND
SHOES.
.of very description, suitable for men, wo
sawn and obildreo, which he w ill p e w it
Nol►"pdees for good pay. Call and exam
iqtribe Stook of Goods. It is not neces
.i )'to describe minutely, for—Remember
that every article that can make the head
and.lest Comfortable and handsome, in all
seitsoss of the year, can be had at his
Store, two doors below the Post-office.
'lgtrVery superior New York and
Pkdadelphia Silk and Beaver Hats con
stantly on,hand.
Gettysburg, Oct. 10, 1849.--.-tf
Plain and Figured Clasps,
STtZL BEADS. Purse Twist, Tassels
Silk Canvass, and Reticules,constant.
y en band and for sale at SCHICK'S.
GIMP FRINGE ! SILK!
14. SCHICK has just received a
• • fine assortment of Gimps and Frin
ges, and a [veld article of els* Bilk.
ANNUALS AND GIFT BOOKS
FOR O. H01,41A4.11*
AN BINANT ASUNITMENT
BUFFILIFTR
11AR just received a large addition to his
stock of Books and Stationery at his
Drag and Book Store In Chambershurg
street, Gettysburg, Ineluding the largest
and most elegant assortment of
Albums, Annuals & ehoicegi
Gift Books,
ever opened in this place. Among them
will he found
The Women of the Bible,
Do. of the Testament,
Beeps in the Live of the Apostles,
Do. Life of the Saviour,
Gem of the Season,
Gift of Friendship for 1850,
Apples of Gold in Pictures of Biker,
It Levees of American Poetry,
Beauties of altered Literature,
Friendship's Offering for 1850,
The Snow Flake, Christian Keepsake, Christmas
Blossoms. the Ruby, Floral Offeriag for 1850, the
Pastor's Wife, Mon Rose, Ladies' Gift. Amansmb,
Garland, Forget-memot, Keepsake of Friendship.
Hyacinth, Opal, Brilliant, Romance of Nature,
Evergreen, Willis' Poems, Female Poets of Amer
ica, Tupper's Philosophy, Pilstim's Progress Bry
ant's Poems, Lady of the Lake. Childs Harold.
Lolls Rooke, Pilgrim's Progress, Poems by Amt.
Ossian, Tann, dm., dec.
AU of which are elegantly bound and
embellished, and will be sold at the salty
LOWEST PRICER.
Gettysburg, Dec. 14, 1840.
TAILCDRIVa.
R. MARTIN.
Al the Old :-t - and,
;arile ire.o Corner of
the Diamond,
GETTY-BURG.
'ENDER their thanks to
mit customers for their
oast favors, and respect-
Illy inform the public
that they continue to
Cut and Make all Garment*,
in the best manner and on reasonable
terms. The Cutting done, as heretofore,
by ROBERT MARTINI. Fashions regularly
received. and every effort made to secure
a good fit and substantial sewing. The
subscribers hope. by their long experience
in business, and renewed efforts to please,
to merit and receive a continuance of the
public 'patronage.
lICPThe Fall and Wittier Fashions
have just been received from the City.
111CrAli kinds of Country Produce ta
ken in exchange for work.
E. & R. MARTIN.
WANTED, immediately, a Journey
man Tailor. Also, an Apprentice
to learn the Tailoring Business. One
from the country would be preferred.
E. & R. MARTIN.
Oct. 19, 1849.—tf
Collectors, Take Notice.
THE Collectors of Taxes in the darer
ent Townships ofAdams county, are
hereby notified that they will be required
to settle up their duplicates on or before
Tuesday the Ist day of January next, on
which day the Commissioners will meet
at their office to give the necessary exon
eration..
JACOB Km,
J. G. NIORNINOSTAIIy
JOHN MURBBLIIAN j r.,
Attest— [Commissioners.
1. AvoxiNasuou, Clerk. [Dee. 7.—td
IMPORTANT DISCOVERY.
rIMIE subscriber has in his possession
an invaluable receipt for making
SOFT SOAP, which he now offers to the
public at a very iusignificent and extraor
dinarily low price. A very superior and
elegant article ol soft soap can he made by
this receipt, without Fat, Ashes or Ley.
and one barrel of it boiled in the incredi
ble short space of ONE HOUR., and at a
cost not exceeding Seventy:five Cents to
the barrel. This Soap will be warranted
superior for washing and other purposes,
to any made in the usual manner. and if
not found as warranted, the money will
be refunded to all win, bought receipts.
Heads of families and others will do well
to give this tastier their attention, as it
will prone a great saving of labor and ex
pense. No person will be permitted to
sell receipts unless authorized hy me.
JOHN MEIXEL.
Price One Dollar.
1 Crßecetpte can he had of
SOLOMON POWERS.
Nev. 28, 184 V. Gettysburg.
FOIL iLJi Pr.
A 811Abli FARM,
Stoat. tit Gertiteuty fp., adonis Co., Pa.
GEO. ARNOLD.
tidV. 23.109.
STOVMS.
fIN hand and for , sale,ehetpa lot
of STOVES, among which int a
few HATHAWAY COOK STOVV.I.
Sept. 7.—tf GEO. ARNOId).
FANCY ARTlCLEB,Cologne,Sosps
Hair Oile, Tooth Brushes, Toilet
Brushes, Tooth Powders, &e., &c.. for
sale by B.H, BUEHLER
proTtos
LETTERS of Ail minittration 'on the es
tate of CHRISTIAN ZECKER,
late of Gettysburg, Adams county, tlee'd,
having been granted to the subscriber re
siding in same place, notice is hereby
given to those indebted to said estate to
make payment without delay, and to those
having claims, to present the same prop
erly authenticated for settlement.
JAS. F. FAHNESTOCK,
Dec. 7. 1840—at Ader.
ONS'CANTLY on hand alio, tlasps,
V) Steel Beads, Rings ind taitioN,
Tirietk• ett., Hy J. L. 0011101 C.
GETTyskpßiii EVENING,.DECEMBER 28, 1849.
THE LYNCHERS.
• RearlNaorarr.
CHAPTIta T.
Daring the troubles with the famous and
daring Chief, Black Hawk, when the in
habitants of our western frontier were ne
ver safe from the depredations of his tribe
curl allies, American citizens, dwelling pe
en at a disunion from the seat of war,
were frequently' annoyed by unfriendly
visits from the red MOP of the forest ; con
sequently, many families in the eastern
and northern parts of Illinois, were led to
desert their homes, and seek safety by
banding together and retiring to fortified
places. Few, however, at so great a dia.
tanee from the disputed territory, suffer
ed from the attacks of the Indians; after
their first panic had in a degree subsided,
even when the struggling band of plunder
era were scouring the country, the inhab
itants, for the most part, returned to their
deserted homes.
, Stephen Moron was a brave, resolute
settler, whom nothing could intimidate.—.
While many of his neighbors fled to' torts
for security, he calmly went to work to
fortify his own house, which he was de
termined not leave. Ho knew that such
flying parties never stopped to lay siege to
a place, and that if he and his son, a bold
young man of twenty-five, could, with he
assurance of his wife and daughter, keep
the Indians at hay for a season, there would
he nothing to fear.
With wife and Mary," he used to say,
..to load our rifles, George and I can pick off
a few red skins, I am thinking, before they
can do much harm to us."
So Moxon and his family remained at
home, while all his neighbors fled. To
these, however, there was an exception.
There was a young man living close'by,
who could not think of deserting the neigh
borhood and leaving Mary Moxon behind.
Accord*ly he resolved to remain, and
would have made the house of Mown his
home for a time had he been on good terms
with Mary's family. As it Wittl. there ha-
ving been a quarrel between hint and
Moxon, the brother of her he loved, he
chose rather to shut himself up in his house
alone. than form any compact with the
family.
Notwithstanding this difference. between
Richard Waits and George Maxon, Rich
ard and Mary were betrothed : for their
love and confidence in each other were un
bounded.
After the first panic, occasioned by the
depredations of the red men, had subsided.
many who had left their homes in the
neighborhood, learning that Stephen Mox
en's family had not been molested, resolved
to return and follow his example.
It was then that Richard Watts would
have made Mary his wife, notwitstanding
her brother's opposition; hut she prevail.
ed upon him to delay his claims until
George could be brought to give his con
sent. With regard to Stephen Moxen
himself, he was neither for or against Rich
ard, but left the young men to adjust their
own differences, and Mary to do as she
chose.
Thus time passed on, until, one day, it
chanced that George and Richard were
hunting in the same piece of woods, and
met near the banks of a stream, close to a
large and deep mill pond.
We will not describe the interview, nnr
dwell upon its consequences ; suttee it to
say that George did not return home that
night, and Richard, although he was seen
by several of the inhabitants withoutgaine
of any deseription,Was spotted with blood,
and that he had received a knife wound in
his shoulder.
On the following morning the neighbor
hood was alarmed and search was made
for George Moxon. It being in the au
tumn, there were many leaves upon the
ground, which enabled the young man's
friends to discover near the null pond, a
spot where a struggle had taken place ;
and where some dead body had evidently
been dragged away, and thrown into the
water.
Added tothis, the hunting knife which
Richard 'Watts wsiknovin to possess, war
found near the spot, erusted/rith blood.
"This." said Elti'Ethan Moxonourning
to the friends who accompanied him-;--end
as he spoke his eye flashed revengefully,
his features were • pale, and his firm lips
contpressed--"Thip, gentlemen, smells of
murder! My son has been killed!"
"And Richard Watts," added his friends
with ope accord, "is the murderer! Re
venge 1"
s tt the time of which we write, and in
that portion of the country in which the
IMMO of our story is laid, but little law ex
isted, except the law of force ; and indi
viduals were but too apt to take upon
themselves the revenge of their own pri
vate wrongs.
The Moxode had powerful friends
throughout the settlement, many of whom
were ready to consider the quarrels of
that family as their own, and to act accord
ingly. In consequence of this,.aa anon as
it was known that George Moton had
been killed, and that•Riehard Watts.wes the
Merfleier. there iiriesi conixthiticin among
"FRARLEI3B AND FREE.
the friends of the deceased, to decide upon
the course which should be pursued.
An old hunter my: ed Ford, a shrewd.
rough, impetuous ehinicter, puchimaelf at
the head of George's friends. determined,
as he said, to see that, the right thing was
done, and vengesneabe taken when due.
It was rightly deigned that it would be
a difficult task to_ capture Richard in his
own house; and Pod accordingly. having
given his accomplice, all necessary tutu°.
tions, proseeded to Richard's alone.
The young man Met him at the door.
and greeted Ford as he had always done.
The latter, roughs' he was, could play the
hypocrite, and did,so, not desiring that
Richard should musioci the object of his
vied..---
ollave you beard sows, Dick r—
isked Ford. ;
“What .ewe 1"
, "That's it; what hews I It is herd to
sly it, but I must coii4lss 1 believe it—"
"What r. intem4ed Richard.
4
"That George M 0 ' n has been murder
ed," said Ford, look his companion full
in the face. if
Richard turned dealthly pale, but soon re
covered himself and4nswered calmly :
"How—and when!? I had not heard of
Ford described till spot, and added that
the murderer had evidently tied some hea
vy object to the body and thrown it into
the mill pond.
Richard's perturbation was visible.
"I am sorry to me replied Ford, "that
some have thought you—"
"I!" echoed Ilichaid, with a start.
"The fact is," pursued the hunter, "cif
cumsiinces are against you, and it will be
necessary for you to explain where you
were last night, what has become of your
hunting knife, and how those spots of blood
came on y ou r dress, considering you brought
home no game."
"Tbis is a dark piece of business," said
Richard, turning pale. em innocent,
but there may be some difficulty in ex
plaininuthese things to the satisfaction of
all. I believe you are my friend—what
would you advise me to do f"
would say. go at once with me to
Moxon's house, and give what explanation
you can on the subject. If you are inno
cent. which I shook', be sorry to doubt, it
will be easy to prove yourself so."
Decided by this appearance of friend
ship in his visitor, Richard resolved to fol
low his advice, and set out to accompany
him to Moxon's house.
On arriving there, he was surprised to
find 801118 half dozen stout, resolute men
assembled apparently awaiting his arrival,
while neither Mary or Mrs. Muzen were
in the room.
"Here," said Ford, "is the place to give
your explanations, and recollect that your
life depends upon your words. We believe
you killed George Moon, and we are his
avengers."
"Villain 1" muttered Richard, turning
fiercely upon his betrayer, and seising him
by the throat, "take that for youa treach
ery I"
In an instant the young man was horn
down by the friends of George, and bound
like a culprit. Finding resistance vain, he
submitted patiently to his fate.
“Now,” said Ford, you hare ■ny
thing to say, we will hear it—but be brief."
have nothing to say before a mob like
this," replied Richard. indignantly ; •`take
me before some acknowledged authority.
and 1 will tell all 1 know about the matter.
Let me warn you. however, to beware how
you treat me. for I am an innocent man."
"You murdered George Muzen I" said
Ford, "we, his friend., are his avengers.
We will give you until to-morrow morn
ing to prove your innocence ; when, if you
fail to do so. you must suffer the penalty."
Richard eyed his accusers sternly and
in silence, but opened not his mouth as
they led Mill away to a clot*. narrow a
partment. which was chosen as his place
of confinement.
CHAPTER U.
Under the nme roof with Msry Mog
en. Richard was not permitted to see her
face.
"Does she know that I mu here I" he
said to himself: "Does she know that lam
accused of taking her brothates life—and
am I a murderer in her eyes t Would I
could speak with her."
From this the prisoner fell to reflecting
on his probable fate."
"That cursed mob ! they will lynch me
before I am proved guilty 1"
Richard was spirited and had little fear
of death-.-yet: the thought of the horrible
destiny that threatened him, clotted him
to shudder. He could only hope for some
escape.
He was alone in a distant room, the
window of which vu fastened on the out
side as well as within, and the door of
which was guarded by the "avengers , 1
blood." Richard could, therefore, think of
nothing but submission to his fate.
W hen the prisoner was least expecting
it he received a visitor. •
, It was Mary Maxon I Tito friends of
Clabrie had given bar permission to ass
him. hoping that she might induce him to
confess, In order that their proposed deed
of blood might bear more the appearance
of justice.
Mary was scarce eighteen, tall, well
formed and beautiful. On the present oc
casion she was very pale, and her •ryes
and fair cheeks oho wed the trace of recent
weeping.
Richard advanced sad Would have ta•
ken her in Warms, but site repalsed
not angrily nor harshly, but with an ap
pearanCe of solicitude and sorrow.
»Touch me sot," said she. "until I know
whether you are innocent of this horrid
crime, or guilty. Tell me now, truly,
Richard," continued rho), Being her dark
eyes upon hit own, "tell me before God—
did you kill my brother 1"
"Mary," replied Richard, folding his
arms and regarding her with a took of tan
dems, and pity. "•if you do believe that I
took your brother's life, you do right 'to
spurn me—l blame you not if you shudder
and grow sick ■t the sight of me. But
have you so mean an opinion of me as to
credit the false reports you have bean'?"
"Then you are innocent I" said Mary,
eagerly.
"As innocent as yourself,"
"I knew it, I felt it," sobbed the girl.
hiding her face in her hands.
Was it the strength of love that over.
came every other feeling, or knew sh not
what she did. She who shunned the pris
oner a moment before. now.sank into his
arms and dropped her head upon his bo
som.
And Richard strained her - to his heart
forgetting. for the moment, that he was
charged with shedding her brother's blood.
But the transport was soon passed, and
Mary recovering her self possession, ask
ed him if he knew nothing of her brother.
°Nothing," replied Richard, °more than
this. We met in the woods at the spot
where they say I killed him, high words
passed between us, and Slows ensued."
Richard," groaned the young girl.
"In the struggle I dropped my knife from
my belt. He seized it and gave me this
alight wound in my shoulder. I had not
thought this of your hmther, Mary -t- • and.
with a feeling of deep sorrow, I bared my
bosom. and bade him strike. if I had ever
given him cause to hate me thus, to death.
He seemed touified, and flung the knife tip
on the ground, but was too proud to ac
knowledge his error. I would not stoop
to touch the blade that had been used to
wound, but turned away, leaving him there.
This, Mary, is all I know of the matter.
as I swear before the all-seeing eye of
heaven."
"Richard," murmurred Mary, "I cannot
but believe you—but they—can't you
bring some proof of your innocence ?
They will not credit you words unless
you can prove what you say. 0, Rich
ard I I shudder to think of the result I"
At this moment one of the self-styled a
vengers came in and informed her that her
time was up, and led her away, regardless
of her tears and distress.
•What did he say to you 1" asked her
father, in the presence of Ford and two of
his companions•
“That he is innocent.”
"What more r
With tears and frequent oohs the poor
girl went on to tell all Richard hall said.
olio," cried Ford, "he owns, then, • loat
they quarreled. What a lame evasion to
say George struck him with a knife, and
that he did not return the blow. What
say yon friends 1"
"He must die," was the response of
all save Maxon, who regarded his agonised
daughter in silence.
Mary passed a night of unspeakable an
guish. and Richard one of anxiety and
Impel( sa sorrow. Yet •he was calm, and
slept severe! hours before the light of morn•
uing stole through his window.
Breakfast wee brought to him by Ford.
who. at the same time informed him that
he had but two hours longer tolire. Such
is the rash. merciless haste of the lyncher.
Two hours passed away.
It Was a beautiful autumn morning, al.
though there was a pervading melancholy
bri•thing hi the drowsy, 'smoky air far
dif f erent from the brightness of a summer
day. It seemed a morning heaven never
designed to witness a deed of deliberate,
bloody vengeance.
Yet Richard was led out to suffer pun
ishment fur the crime he was charged
with having committed, and it was by the
light of that morning's sun that he beheld
the preparations for his execution.
It was on on the border of a grove. On
the one side was a beautiful woodland, and
on the other a broad expanse of prairie,
undulating like a troubled sea with its
billows, and stretching as far away as the
eye could penetrate the hazy air.
Mary, wild with despair and crushed
by sorrow, remained at home while her
lover was led to execution, and her father,
stern and stoical, was with her, choosing
rather to witness her grief, than the death
of George's murderer.
The execution was to take place under
the direction of the blood-thirsty Ford.
Richard was to be hung. Already a
strong rope was attached to the lowest
limb of a stunted oak that stood out from
the rest of the Purest vpae ? and a temps
rary staging was erected fur the devoted
youth to stand upon while the cord was
adjusted to his neck.
' , Now, Dick," said Ford, "et us see
your agility—jump upon that block."
"Untie his hands," said another, "so that
he Can die like a decent man.
NA. ynn say," returned Ford.
And Richard's hands were accordingly
set at liberty. He then stepped boldly up.
on the waging, and looked around upon his
executioners.
Ford would have moanted with him to
adjust the rope.
_ "Ney. be not at that trouble," said Rich.
ird with an air of dignified authority, which
awed the old hunter ; will tie the rope
myself." But just hear me say a few
words for the benefit of your consciences
after you have murdered me. I know
yon will hang me. and that in half an
hour !shall he a corpse ; but even now,
on the point of dropping into eternity. I
swear that you are murdering an innocent
man. My blood is upon your heads." '
•s'Phit is a bold lie," said Ford with a
grim smile. _
..insolent Itiehnrd—
"to insult a dying man. But know I can
resent an injury still."
The words hnd scarcely escaped his lips
when he leaped likes tiger upon Ford
and hurled him to the grouml. Then, be
fore his companions could recover from
their surprise, he daubed through them,
and bounded down the declivity like a deer.
CIRAPTIIIt
...Shoot hiM down ! Shoot him down !"
cried Ford, springing to his feet in a rage.
But two of the company had rifles
with them. ind as it woeld'appear, neither
of them chose to take the intliival rearm
bility of Richard's death; for while the
fugitive was in full view, they fired their
pieces, with no more effect than if they
had been loaded with dust. With a curse
upon their unskilful hinds, Ford dashed
down the gill in hot pursuit of Richard.
The woodland was between Richard
and his would-he executioner, end not
daring to attempt reaching it, he shot
boldly out on the prairie: Ford and two
of his companion. followed — him, - while
the remainder stood upon the declivity
watching with intense interest the pursu
ers and the pursued.
Richard was fleet of foot, hut the . grass of
the prairie, at dry and loose, was so long
that it impeded his progress, yet it did not
give his pursuers the advantage.
He was sometimes lost to sight in the ra
vines and hollows, and then he would ap
pear on the summit of a bold elevation
stre,chiug away towards the hazy, iodic
tinct (militias of the distant hills.
The Fugitive gained ground upon his
pursuers, but they seemed loth to give up
the race. Richard approached a squatter's
hut far out on the prairie. The spectators.
of the 'strife watched him closely, but
soon another object attracted their atten
tion.
A horseman! Be was approaching the
same hut, but he was far beyond it, and a.
he spurred his charger to his utmost speed,
it seemed that it was his object to reach
the hut before Richard. But he had ten
timelithe distance to compass, and Rich.
and was already rounding the acclivity
on which the cottage stood.
W hat could be the meaning of that horse
man's terrible speed I
- Ile might well lash his horse, for, in
hot pursuit behind him, were two daring
savages, mounted on animals fleeter than
his own I
Seeing the dinger of the horseman.
Richard forgot the peril he himself was in.
Swift as he had run. he now quickened his
pace. not to sore himsell; but to rescue his
fellow:man.
He dashed up the hill, burst unceremon
iously into the cottage, snatched a burning
brand from the hearth. and issuing forth,
waved it above his head.
The horseman was now close to the
cottage and the savages were not Lir be
hind. With unerring haste Richard plun
ged the brand into the grass, and trailed
the fire in a long line access, the horse
man's path. There was a strong wind
blowing towards the savages, and tho dry
grass or the prairie caught the flames like
powder. Tile flying horseman leaped
his steed over them at the moment they
started up, and sunk with the exhausted
animal to the ground.
111 art instant, a broad sheet of flame shot
upward, and swept away the prairie, grow
ing fiercer and larger as it flew careering
over the earth. The savages saw them
and wheeling their horses suddenly about,
struck out in a broad circle to avoid the ra•
ging names.
Hall an hour afterwards, all that expanse
of prairie was eitherblack and bare, or burn
ing ; and far away to the right at a distance
the eye could scarcely attain, might have
been seen two dark specks moving slow
ly along the earth. These were the two
who had bacely ,escapod the hre.7
But so rotate to die turrsosoad.
TWO DOLLARS MR 4,11/1401:.
I NEW SERIES-NO. 15L
At the moment his horse overleeped
the names, both hill. as sold Wine. td tbi
ground. Ina meows BMW woo ht
his side, and to avoid the tame. boot
began to creep through the crackling grog
against the wind, dragged him to a spites
of furrowed ground that sourrounded
squatter's hut.
At the moment Ford and his &napalm
ions mime up, Richard was assisting the
Mien man to rise t and not wititstandlog
the exciting scene they had Just witnesed,
they had not forgo; to seise their escaped
prisoner.
"Murderer 1" exclaimed Ford salting
him by the throat, "I have you now I"
He had scarce spoke when a strong
hand lashed him aside.
"Hands al" cried a well known voles
"for he is not a murderer, but my deliver
er!"
The astonished lynchers looked at the
man who had now recovered from the
shock of his fall..
It was George Moxon.
Mary was awaiting in terrible suspense
the return of the lynchers. She had
faint hope that her lover might, by some
interposition of Providence, escape—.may,
it'was the dim shadow of hope.
At the moment she wee expecting the
awful intelligence that Richard was dead.
who should bound into the cottage but her
George I In an instant she was in his arms.
but the joy of seeing him again was turn•
ed to bitterness by the reflection that
Richard had probably suffered for his sup•
posed murder.
The next instant, however, her fears
were at an end. Richard was before her.
With a shriek of delight she sank from
her brother's arms upon the bosom of her
lover.
We need not attempt a description of
the joy occasioned by this meeting—the
joy of the two young men who had been
enemies. but now were friends, of Mary
and of the stern old man, tier father.
George corroborated all Richard had said
concerning their last interview in the
woods and their quarrel, and gave a full
explanation of his disappearance.
lie had been captured by a band of saws•
gee, which had been prowling about the
neighborhood for several days ; and from
whom he had escaped by breaking his
bands and mounting one of their horses
when they were least expecting such a
bold attempt.
When he had finished his naration.
he placed the hand of Mary within that of
Richard, declaring that nothing would
please him so well as to see his friend
his brother.
Let the reader imagine the rest.
Dimwit Bootc.—l► is very,luelty for an
Editor, or, in fact, any business man, to
dream of musquetos ; it betokens csutom
ers that will settle their bills.
If a "fashionable lady" dreams that she
was asked to sing, it is a token that she is
undoubtedly catching cold.
if a printer dreams of starving to death.
it foretokens an abundance of
For a tailor to dream of being imprison.
ed, is a gentle admonition that his lot of
cabbage was altogeth'er too extensive.
POPIIING THZ le common
for girls when they give their consent to
say totlieir lovers, "Go ask my father."
A bachelor recently got acquainted with a
pretty woman, to whom he very soon pop
ped the question, to which she replied.
"Go ask my husband !" Ho supped
her to be a spiuster.
Where the Cincinnati Dispatch picked
up the following, deponent smith not—how.
ever, it will pass :
"Mother sent me over to see if you
couldn't lend us a lad fithin," sad liula
girl down Soutl►, in ►he Ractiesack region,
to an old lady who was considerably both•
erect by these neighborly calls.
"No. my darter," said the old lady, rait
ing her spectacles, and pretending not to
know that corn meal was the article asked
for. "I should like to oblige your mother,
but we aint got no little Injiit. 'fell her,
however, she can have our lithe nigger boy
any time she wants to borrow him."
The trading on borrowed capital was
broken up after this.
i.Shon," said a Dutchman, "you may
say what you please 'bout bad "neigbors
I had to vorst neighbors as never wise--
Mine pigs and mine hens come mu dere
ears split, and todder day two of 'em emit
home minim."
"Are you a methodist t" ws inquired
the other day, of a fellow who had sought
the side wall of a meeting house to steuidy
himself by. •"( lean that tray," replied
the chap, with the most imptirturttabls
coolness. We concluded the fellow
wasn't so very drunk, after all.
Here is a rather a neat epigram on a
pale-fared wile. Read ii, all who ua to.
porously inclined :
Why is it thu on Emma s cheek
The lily blooms and not the rose?
&gaups the rose hes gone to seek
A place upon her husband's ease.
ileenna, did you ever enjoy the atesteliet
bliss of courting r
. 6 , N0, I can't say as I frier dive,
'You didn't 1 Then you'd NOW . 110$
a little gal-an-try."
Hz who wishes to pay sweat," pin' tent.
more for his goods than they sty *Op
•slwuld go to those who do not ifivictiinA.
Bloom! ere they who do net Olieetikws
fee they shell rarely be noebled id& tie.
16M.