1
4
iti
'WE CO WHERE DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLES POINT THE WAY J WHEN THEY CEASE TO LEAD, WE CEASE TO FOLLOW.
BY JOHN G. GIVEN.
EBENSBURG, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1850.
VOL. 7. ISO.
4.
St
J II II II I
II l
- II I III
MISCELLANEOUS
From the Olive Branch.
EDWARD SHELDON;
Or, Tic Wayward
XV
i:e.
BY ELIZA S. PRATT.
CHAPTER I.
It has been my lot, during my past life,
to be frequently thrown into the society of
the newly married, and to mark, with much
interest, the difference which they exhibit
in their deportment towards each other,
their style of living, habits of industry or
ease, frugality or evtravagance, and the
consequent effect upon the happiness of
the married couple; andhowever much or
often the husband may be at fault, I can
but admit, as far as my observation ex
tends, that the wife is moie frequently the
cause of Uiscontentand misery at the Ijome
fireside, and even of broken fortunes, than
the husband himself, who, however much
he may have striven to keep his baik
afloat, is nevertheless obliged to bear upon
his unoffending head the whole weight of
evils which their downfall produces. The
want of that cheerful acquiescence in those
habits of industry and frugality which the
early career of every man obliged to mike
his own fortune demands from the wife,
has discouraged and crushed many a man
of good talents and bright prospects, ha3
teen the ultimate cause of ruined fortunes
and disappointed hopes.
For the better illustration of the princi
ple I have advocated, I will give my read
ers a story, hoping that us moral may not
be without a beneficial effect upon some
beneath whose eye it may chance to fall.
Edward Sheldon was a young mechan
ic of a persevering and ambitious turn of
mind, industrious, intelligent, and highly
respected in his native village. He was
one in whom ambition was an active prin
ciple, leading him to foreign countries in
the spirit of enterprise; and though fortune
at times favored him with success, he was
often overwhelmed with leverses, and
obliged to commence anew in that struggle
for independence upon which his eye was
set. But nothing daunted, he would a
gai et himself to work, and at the age
of 30 he returned to his native village snc
cessful and prosperous and there establish
ed himself in business.
It was then that he cast his eyes about
him for a companion, a wife, to share his
solitary hours and render his home inviting
and happy; and fortune so will it that a
gay girl of seventeen should lead him
captive, and without reasoning upon the
-disparity of their ages, and the consequent
incongruity of their sentiments for love
never reasons he led her to the hymenial
altar, and their destinies became insepara
ble forever.
For a time things went on smoothly,
for a tolerable lucrative business enabled
him to indulge in fancies, and humor the
caDrices of his young wife, who seemed
to look upon life as but a holiday, and the
t .l ri 1 . .1
creaming 01 ner wants as uui wi mcuium ;
of their fulfillment. INothmg was denied
her, public amusements were made a
source of frequent resort, and Edward la
bored hard to supply the folly and extrav
agance of his wife, who, in dress, strove
to rival the wife or daughter of a million
aire. But it could not last long; and be
fore twelve months had gone by, he found
to his surprise, that his expenses had far
exceeded his income, and to add to his
perplexity the birth of a little daughter
promised greatly to enh?nce them for the
future.
How to remedy the evil he knew not,
for the most remote hint to his wife upon
the subject was met with sullen discontent
or open rebuke; and instead of limiting
her expenses within reasonable bounds,
ihey seemed rather to increase with each
day, and every morning and evening poor
Edward was obliged to gratify some nsw
demand, or bear the unkind retort and ill- 1
humor of his spoiled wife. He strove
hard to keep on firm footing, and . would
have racked his very sinews to save the
annoyance and trouble which the gentlest
refusal was sure to bring him; but as
month after month went away, notwith
standing all his effoits, he found himself
daily sinking in debt, his property mort
gaged, and ruin, staring him in the face.
Racked with anxiety, he knew not which
way to turn, and scarcely two years had
elapsed since his marriage, ere Edward
Sheldon felt himself a doomed man.
One bright morning ia January, after
a hasty breakfast, Edward kissed his little
girl, a beautiful child of somethiag more
than a )ear old, whose sweet smile and
innocent prattle was his chief source of
comfort, and taking his hat and cane pre
pared to go out to his usual task. There
was a look of anxiety on his brow and a
light compression of the lip as he cast a
hasty glance at his wife, who appeared to
have arrayed crself for a promenade, and
now stood before a" 3SS smoothing her
hair, but without uttering a word he was
making liis exit, when she caught his re
treating form reflected back from the mir
ror and instantly called him back.
"Wait a moment, Edward," said she,
and taking a purse from a drawer she ex
amined the contents. "I am going out
shopping, this morning, and have not half
money enough to make my purchases.
You must give me some, for I have quite
a number of articles to buy."
''What have 3 0U to buy?'
"O! I am going to get a new dress,'
said she in a careless tone,you know that
beautiful cashmere which Jane Roberts
wears; I think I will get one like that, it
is so pretty, and I may as well get baby a
frock while I am about it; and must gel
some new ornament for my neck, too, I am
tired of this gold chain, aud think a string
of coral beads would be much more be
coming they are quite fashionable now.
And there's that silver comb you gave me
a year ago; it is getting quite out of date,
and I must have a new shell one, they are
more genteel. Let mo see with what I
have got I think I can manage with twelve
dollars to-day.
During this rapid enunciation of intend
ed purchases, Edward had stood with his
eyes cast down, and his cheek blanched
with emotion. lie had hitherto never re
fused his wife in her demands upon his
purse, however unreasonable they might
be; for possessed of a kind and affectionate
heart, he shrunk from discord as from the
deadliest ill of life. But suddenly a new
spirit seemed to possess him, and raising
his head he betrayed a flushed cheek, as
he hastly stepped to her side, and stood
with her confronting the glass.
"Ellen, ' said he in a clear lone of voice
"which should dress the better, a man or
his wife?"
"Neither, to he sure," replied she, re
garding him with a look of unfeigned as
tonishment; "they should both appear alike
in that respect."
'And who is dressed the better now?"
said he glancing at his clothes, which were
his best, and though of good materials worn
and thread-bare , then at her rich velvet
shawl and satin dress "who is dressed
the better now, pray?"
'And whose fault is it that you do not
dress better?" said she in an ironical tone
of voice, in whose chords not the least
blending' of kindness could be detected;
"It you do not choose to dress better, I
am sure I cannot help it. I did not
marry you to dress you, but expected
to be dressed decently myself without all
this fuss. You owe me fifteen dollars
now?"
Sheldon turned his dark, penetrating eye
upon the face of his wife, and gazed till
her own sank beneath his look and a blush
of shame crimsoned her cheek.
s owe you, do I?" said he at length
with a heavy sigh, as he threw himself in
to an arm chair, and resting his head a
gainst the back, seemed for a moment lost
m thought. "xes Ellen, 1 did stipulate
U) give a hundred dollars a year for your
. 1 . .1
personal expenses, iignieen monins ago.
but then business was far better than it is
now, and our expenses were less. Then
I was free from debt and comparatively
happy; now, let me toil as Imay, I cannot
meet our accumulated bills from week to
week, and from month to month the debt
is growing heavier rpon my hands. Look
at me 1 have not spent ten dollars for
clothing the last year, and prefer now to
appear in this shabby suit, rather than
leave my creditors unpaid, while you in
sist upon the payment of the whole sum I
have promised. Our last three months
board is yet unsettled, and it is but a few
days since that you warned me that our
washerwoman's bill had run up to fifteen
dollars. You might, Ellen," he continued
and his voice grew husky with emotion as
he rapidly proceeded; "you might aid me
in the struggle. Our expenses might be
immediately curtailed one-half, if you
would consent to keep
house and do our
worK; I could hire suthcient room lor us
to live comfortably at a moderate rate and
by frugality and industry on your part,
we might be saVfid from this continual
downfalf which wilt ultimately ruin us.
If instead of one dollar a week for wash
ing, you would cheerfully do it, and spare
at least one-half from your, personal ex
penses, which, with the other plans I pro
pose would bring our expenses within our
means, we might yet be prosperous and
happy."
While speaking, Sheldon had drawn his
chair towards his wife, and taking her del
icate hand in his, with that kindness and
gentleness of manner, which was his wont
when unrepulsed by coldness or severity.
Now a tear had risen to his eye, which he
hastily brushed away as unmanly; but his
lip quivered with emotion as he finished
his appeal.
I know not how woman's heart could
resist language like that, uttered as it was
with that indescribable earnestness of man
ner which romes from an overburdened
heart. But Ellen's heart and temper were
if not spoiled by self-indulgence, soured
and disturbed. She drew back coldly,
and with an angry gesture, which repelled
all 'the warm feelings that were ebbing
from the heart of the husband, petulently
replied:
"I can't help it, you know I can't work,
I don't know how; besides I am sure it is
enough for one to do to take care of baby;
and as for dressing less, you can do as
j'ou please, but I don't intend to appear
more meanly clad than at present. Come
I'm 1n- a liirrryr will J you 'give me the
money."
"Yes, I will give it to you," replied he
in a deep guttural tone of voice, which al
most startled the insensible wife; and any
one who had observed his countenance as
lie opened his purse, might have seen that
something unusual was at work at his
heart. "I'll pay you what I owe you."
and he counted out the fifteen dollars and
placed them in her hand. "Is that all I
owe you?" and liis voice grated strangely
as he asked the question.
"That is all," replied she carelessly,
and donning her bonnet she left him with
the same cold unconcern that had always
fallen like ice upon the warm impulsive
feelings of her husband.
She had no sooner left the apartment,
than he caught his child to his bosom, and
pressing her soft downy cheek to his, burst
into tears a torrent of unchecked tears
which came from an agonized heart, lie
had hoped hoped beyond reason, to soften
the heart of the being he called liis wife to
wake her to a sense of duty that they might
yet be happy. But now all hope was lost,
his last and boldest effort was repulsed,
she liaci turned away callous and unsofi
ened from an appeal that might have touch
ed a savage heart. He had done all in
his power to do, and as hope went out in
his heart, a firm and settled resolution, a
new-born purpose rose ap and precluded
despair.
"She has no friends to support her,"
said he, casting his eyes around the a part-
t ment which was richlv furnished by him
elf, "a poor orphan I brought
her here,
and no more than such shall I
Her uncle, who reared her in
leave her.
charily, is
dead, and she will be obliged to earn her
bread a severe lesson, but a necessary
one; she must yet learn to help herself,
or she can never be what I hoped to find
her." So saying, he left the child in the
care of a little girl and went out.
It might have been two hours after the
above-mentioned occurrences took place,
that a cab drove up before the door of the
house in which Sheldon and his wife
boarded, and a moment after he stepped
out, bringing a large travelling trunk,
which, with the aid of the coachman, was
placed on the top of the carriage. He then
went back to his room, and immediately
returned, bearing his little daughter in his
arms, neatly dressed in a little hood and
pelisse, and prattling in high glee at the
prospect of a ride. A moment more the
door closed, the carriage wheels rattled
oer the pavement, and Sheldon had left
his wife and home, that which he had so
eagerly sought, and deemed as the highest
felicity of life perhaps forever ! But his
child was in his arms, or on his heart, and
though the. burning tears rushed to his
eyes, he was still half happy in the inno
cent caresses of his beautiful and idolized
child.
CHAPTER II.
Five years had elapsed since the com
mencement of our story. Again it was
January, cold and biting, and a stormy
evening was closing up a dull and lower
ing day.
Alone, in an humble and poorly fur
nished apartment, in an obscure part of
the city, by the side of a diminutive coal
fire, sat the wife of Edward Sheldon. She
was busily engaged in sewing, and as she
rapidly plied her task, would now and
then pause, rest her head upon her hand,
apparently engaged in deep thought. Once
she dropped her work, buried her face in
her hands., and while her frame trembled
with emotion, the tears trickled through
her fingers, and fell fast and thick on her
lap. But there was no sound, or murmur
of complaint; it was evidently the grief of
a contrite heart; and only till she had
subdued her emotions, and taken from a
littie ebony box the miniature of her hus
band, did she give vent to her feelings in
words.
"Oh, that I could recall the past !" said
she at length, in trembling accents, as she
gazed on the faithful resemblance of him
who should have been more to her than
life itself. "Oh, that I could recall my
past wedded life, and rc-live again those
days which should have been the happiest,
but were, alas! the most wretciied of my
life ! That proud, selfish heart of mine
was wearing the very life-blood from his
generous heart so kind, faithful and for
giving ! I could have made him happy,
I could have been happy mypelf, but alas !
it is now too late; I have made him an
exile from home, and entailed upon myself
a life of loneliness and misery!" and
again she buried her face in her hands,
and wept long and bitlerl'.
And well she might weep, for she had
merited her sufferings, but was now an
altered woman; she had passed through
the bitterest ordeal it is woman's lot to
bearshe was a deserted wife; and tha;
very desertion had proved a bless ing to
her- (
E-yiing, upon the departure of her hus
band, to find any clue to hi3 residence,
farther than that he had left in a steamship
for Europe; and believing, like every one
else, that he had left her forever, she im
mediately set herself to work, and by the
necessity of toil, soon learned the value of
that money she had before so foolishly
squandered. Nor was this all, the effect
upon her mind and temper, for grief had
touched a chord of love which prosperity
had never done. Her child, too, her beau
tiful, but lost how, in her loneliness, did
her heart yearn for that sweet one, on
whom she could have lavished a
eper
i'd in
lountain ot love man had ever welled in
her heart when it lay on her
1 1
uusum jiiu
was cradled in her arms! But the dear
one was lost to her lost, perhaps forever
I- and she was alone ia the
rripf nnil
agony of her heart.
1 Why did the ringing of the door-hell at
that late hour of the night, so startle the
i lone one? It was often rung at that hour
I and she heeded it not, but now she started
' from her dreamv posture and pressed her
j hands upon her heart which throbbed al -
moai iu imrsuiiu. rvgam 11 waa rung iixuva
j MuiL'imy man ueiore, anu again me lomr ges OI ?arn m:gnty Cities, and tne labours
: forsook the cheek of the wife, and the : of such advanced civil. zation, as the his
j breath seemed stayed on her parted lips, tonans of the c mquest relate as existing
j as with every nerve awake she stood in 'at the beginning cf thesixteenth century,
j mute posture of suspense. There was j These glowing records were doubtless
j something in the peculiar manner in which made, partly to swell the importance of
' ,1.. .i. 1 : 1 . I . 1
ine cnoru was puiieu mat was associated
with memory of days gone by, as the last
sound died on the air, she drew her breath
with a quick sigh, and murmured.
"How like his ring!"
Again, there was a quick step on the
stair a manly tread and soft feet fol
lowed mingling their echoes with the
heavier ones. That step O ! how could
a wife mistake the step of one who had
been the lord of her heart although five
.
weary years had rolled between her heart
and his ! It nearsnearer, and nearer , question Spanish authorities, or to meas
and now it is on the threshold, and as the ure old Spanish literature by the standard
door swirgs back on its hinges, with that
same impulsive turn it always took from
his hand, the wife sank back in her chair
without the power of motion or utterance.
But the kind familiar voice of the lost one,
breathing accents of love, and mingled
with the clear, sweet voice of her child,
aroused her. and with a heart full of peni
tence and gratitude, she threw herself into
his arms and wept tears of contrition and
thankfulness.
N eed I rwhl ll:r spmial in mv strtrv- or.
. . ... 7
will any one doubt if the restored husband
aud wife were happy ? Will any one
question if she longer hesitated to conform
to what necessity and duty demanded?
or repined if every wish was not gratified ?
No ! a lesson of forbearance and self-denial
were graven on her heart, too deep to be
erased by time, and with cheerful and
earnest will she performed the various
duties of life, and became from that hour
a blessing to her husband and child.
A Knotty Question.
A sucker, being put to it for a glass of
the critter., went into a grocery store, and
commenced the following dialogue:
'Mister, I'll take fourpence worth of
crackers.'
Yes, sir,' replied the grocer; and the
crackers were accordingly bagged up.
On second thoughts,' says the sucker,
'I'll take a fourpence worth of gin, and
here's your crackers.'
The grocer received the crackers, and
the sucker received the gin, which was
speedily drank, and sucker was about
departing.
Here,' says the grocer, pay me for that
gin!'
Pay ycu, says sucker, 'din't I give
you the crackers for the gin?
True,' says grocer, butrou didn't pay
for the crackers!'
In course not,' says sucker; I didn't I
keephem! Hain't you got your crackers?
You don't want a man to pay for what
he didn't have, do you?'
Sucker departed, leaving grocer en
gaged in the process of scratching his
head!
Ali ens who have been three years in
the U. S. and who did not arrive under
eighteen years of age, in order; to be
qualified to vote at the Presidential elec
tion, in 1S52, must declare their inten
tion to become Naturalized on or before
the seventh day of November next other
wise they will loose the priviege of vo
ting on that ccension.
SERVICE WANDERINGS.
BY AN OFFICER OF ARTILLERY.
CHOLULA.
Who has not heard of the Pyramid of
Cholula represented by a wood-cut in
the primergeographies, as a truncated
pyramid, with a long, four-sided base,
and regular steps on every side, to the
famous temple of the more famoas Quet-
zalcoatl at its summit' Or what reader of
Prescott does not recall the thrilling me
moriesof the' massacre, by Cortez and the
allied Indians, of thousands cf the natives,
in the town at its base, in retaliation of
their treachery?
The story is not doubt exaggerated, and
the child's wood-cut is as like actual re
ality as "Hyperion to a satyr." I say
the memories are exaggerated; for Pres.
cott draws his materials from the Spanish
historian and it has passed into a pro
verb among the Spanish, that of what
historians and travellers relate, we mav
believe "a ?nilad de lamitad" But even
j when this quartering process h?s passed
; upon the story of Bernal Diaz, there still
- - . . ...
remains enough at tne ir.idir. nm thp
; remains enougn 01 me irasric ana tne ro-
1 mantle in tho ti-r, rllrMon nf ihnt n'rtnr.
! esoue srot. to invest it with necnii.ir in-
.1 1 i
teresl to the traveller.
The impression, I think, which is
forced U!)on the mind of one i jurn-jving
in Mexico, is, that the numbers, the mag-
l nificence, the civilization and the virtues
of the race which Cortez met when he
marched into the tablelands of Pueb'a have
! Leen strangely
exaggerated. Sufficient
time has noteCans-d to destroy the vesli-
r a r ... -
: me littie Land ot conmierors. part v to
. , - j
please tne young and m:gnty emperor
who had just ascended the throne, and
who regarded the new discoveries as giv
ing a glorious celebrity to his reign, and
partly, loo, in accordance with the literary
fashion of the times, which borrowed from
the stage meretricious ideas of ornament
and nrtifice, and which considered, oft
times, the accessories mere important than
the truth.
1 1 - ,
But without
undertaking
farther to
of the present age, iet us speak of Cholula
as it is now, divested, by the testimony
of an eye-witness, of the romance of his
tory, and the story-telling of pictorial
geographies.
It was in July, 1S17, while the army
was resting from the labours of Veia Curz
and Cerro GrJo, and gathering its en
ergies for the Sampsonian
task of taking
j the gates of Mexico; when action had been
i diatui bed, and we were left in the ner-
vnne nriYinnc trtto nf
vous, anxious, state o: suspense which
none but a soldier can realize; it was at
this tune, and under these circumstances,
that parties were formed to visit all the
lions of Pueb!a. First in order come the
curiosities within the city. We explored
the Cathedral, of which mortals had built
the walls, and w hich angels had capped
with a mighty dome, of a symmetry and
perfection in stone-work unequalled, of
course, by human builders. In gratitude
to the supernatural architects, the city has
since been called "La. Puebla de los An.
gcles."
Then we went to the foot of the storm
mountain, Malinche, and some of the ad
venturous climbed to its summit. In the
afternoons we had bull-fights, and in the
evenings a wretched icatro, to keep up
the excitement. With these aids to kil
ling time, (which peaceable occupation
we were obliged to substitute for killing
Mexicans,) we postponed Cholula, as one
often keeps a gratification in prospect.net
w ishing to destroy the pleasing anticipa
tion. rtt last, hovVever. the bull-fights ceased
to excite, the theatre was a prodigious
bore, and the time had drCidly come for
enjoying Cholula.
On a beautiful morning in Juh', with
latitude and elevation conspiring, by their
contrary efforts, to render the weather de
lightful and the air baimy, twenty or
thirthy officers, escorted by a squadron of
1 dragoons, set out upen the level road that
stretches over an almost treeless plain, to
Cholula.
The pyramid hove in sight" fis soon
as we le't the city, looking, at a distance
of seven miles, like a little hump-backed
mound of earth, covered with a luxrinnt
vegetation. But let us advance with the
party. They presented a motley but pic
turesque appearance. The dragoons n
close order, but the officers galloping
hither and thither, some in full undress,
others with the soldier's jacket straw
torl Cr1T 1V2, tit'on in T - U
' Cerro Gordo fought in April".
hats, felt hats, of all shapes, sizes and color
beards the tear lung, or cut into gro
tesque forms some carrying portfolios to
"take a likeness" others provided with
mathematical instruments to determimi
the height some practising wiih pistols
and others imitating the gravity of tha
children of the country by quietly smo
king their puros, and keeping their cog
itations to themselves no.ie, I venture
to say, concerned absut lhecha.ncea cf the
war, and nil eager to see the queer, old,
dumb chronicle of long ago, among the
Tollecs, orvn their predecessors in the
(and. As for the Aztecs, they were yar -venues
to the pyramid. What a j.i:y
Memnon had a fabulous voice! Who can
lock upon arelic of ages, like this, with
out having the simple thought pasa
through tne mind, "What this could tsl!,
if it had a tongue?"
We galloped up to the base of the pyr
amid, which stands near the entrance of
the town, and many of the officers dis
mounted, to make the ascent on foot. A
horse can go almost anywhere; relying
on this principle, I kept rr:y seat, and wan
paid for my venture by finding myself,
safe and unfatigued, in the grounds of the
Chapel of Our Lady of some queer name,
which has happily replsced that horrid
old temple of human sacrifice, which
marked the ignorant devotion of a bar
barous people to their "unknown Uod."
Who can blame me for not remembering
one name among the thousands which
Our Lady chooses, in the countries which
nationally acknowledge her manifold
claims ?
Bat my readers are not prepared to
reach the top so summarily, and without
j taking a survey as we approach the pyr
amid.
It was originally a frustum of a right
pyramid, with a rectangular base, "one
thousand four hundred and twenty-three
feet long twice as long as that of th
great pyramid of Cheops. "t Its base
covers forty-four acres, and its summit i
more than one acre in area. These di
mensions have not been appreciably al
teted, but the edges have become roundedl
by constant attrition, deep fissures have
been cut by time in its faces, and the road
which winds around from one side nearly
to the other at the top, has been, by de
grees, excavated so as to present a wall of
well-pressec, usiburnt brick on each side.
In all the clefts, as well as in the parapets
of the road, i: appears that it vra3 built of
unburnt brick, and as deep as it has ever
been penetrated, the same formation ia
evident.
Most of us agreed with Humbolt in the
opinion that three was a natural mound,
which was taken as the nucleus, and which
the builders covered, and thus brought to
its present shape. Be that as it may, it is
still a stupendous work, and covered as it
now is with a thick growth of centuries,
it bespeaks age, grandeur, and a consecra
tion of the mighty, the immense, and the
eternal, to their fearful but revered dity.
We reached the summit, and without
waiting to see the magnificent spectacle,
we rushed into the church, and ascended
to the belfry, to gain, if possible, some
thing by the additional ninety feet of ele
vation thus afforded. In reaching the top,
we passed up a spiral staircase, which
might architecturally define "the blackness
of darkness," as there is no window in
the whole ascent. It is, however, a fine
preparative for the view upon which we
emerged the most magnificent panorama
which has ever greeted my eyes. A pure,
thin atmosphere, and a cloudless sky,
were indeed necessary elements of the
view, and these we had. Around, iu every
direction, we looked upon a beautiful
champaign country, irrigated with canals,
many of which seemed to falsify the
mathematical axiom that parallel lines, if
produced, will never meet; here and there
a cluster of houses, w ith their plantaia
irees, and little curling wreaths of smoke,'
La Puebla in clear sight, ar.d every spot
of the road between us so marked, that
we could almost
compute
distances as
upon a map.
But thf-se were all last i:i our wraot
contemplation of the mighty volcanies.
Far away to tha west, and vet so clearlv
defined as to be apparently v. id. in pistol
shot, Popocatepetl and lziecfihnatl "Ac
fire mountain and lh. dead ioi?nan'"X
the one with it3 smooth, conical top, nni
the other with iis unevenly cat outline,
rise boldly from among the surrounding
hills, and pierce the clouds.- At their ap
parent basf they partake of t!i3 common
verdure; a little higher, they become brown
and wintry to the limit of vegetation, and
then presenting a parallel st.-atuin of baie.
rock, as far as the limit of perpetual snow.
"Hijos de!
called, . .
tPrescott.
pais, as the natives sre
t l he lat
ted ouiline
er to colled becr.u?e
its scrra-
the appearst::
ot a
I human body.
1
J