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"WE GO WHE2E DEMOCEATIC PMNCIPLES POINT THE "WAY ; WHEX THEY CEASE TO LEAD, "WE CEASE TO TOLLOVT."
VOLUME IX.
NUMBER 14.
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From the Louisville Times
( TO COl'SIN M ILL.
EV J5i:S. A. 1.. ECTER PUFOLK.
Oh ! I could love thee as the flowers
The crystal midnight dew ;
My soul could fold its wings in trust,
Thy kindred soul to woo.
Eut human sympathy and love,
No more can c"er be mine ;
No more the withered flower may bloom,
Beneath the darkened shrine,
Vet I may love thee for thy soul
My trembling one has met;
And'by thy strong ethereal love,
Ilas'softened its regret :
IUs breathed in accents soft and low,
True sympathy's pweet words,
"Which ever more will gently thrill,
My spirit's mystic chords.
Oh ! rarely do congenial souls
Their sister-souls here find ;
And oh! how very few does Love
Forever truly bind.
Cold looks and colder tones are all
In Life's drear paths we meet:
The throng tread scornfully the heart
Of Love, beneath their feet.
From maze to maze it wonders on,
Through labyrinths deep and dark;
No gentle spirit's soothing smiles"
Beam o'er love's lonely barque:
But if perchance some kindly word,
Is softly, sweetly spoken,
A chord within the lone heart thrills,
That never can be broken.
Then will Hove the Cousin dear,
Will claim thee near or far;
To soar 'mid realms of thought and love,
By blossom, sun, or star.
And in the hush of eve's soft hour.
Full oft thy soul will meet :
And with thy lofty spirit hold
Affections converse sweet.
THE HIXTER'S REVEXCE.
A WESTE3N LEGEND.
BT MABK riXDEIX.
CHAPTER I.
A few years since, while wandering in some of.
our Kentucky counties which border upon the Ohio
river, chance eaused mo to pass the night in the
house of one of the oldest surving pioneers of
"the dark and bloody ground." The sight of
ruch men relics of a departed age, and mem
irals of that state of infancy from which our
countty has grown iuto its now glorious man
hood always possesses for me the highest in
terest. I listen to their words with reference
and delight. L.never tire of their simple loqua
cy, for I feel that it is from their stores of tra
ditionary learning, than from the dull pages of
historic lore, that we can become fully aware
of the peculiar and. distinguishing , features of
the spirit stirring times . in which they bore a
part. . '
lie, to whom I have alluded, was a fine speci
men of his class. Though his once stalwart
form was somewhat bent, and his white locks'
hung thin upon his broad temples, yet his body
and mind .were still active and vigorous. Ilis
cheerful laugh',' the Tuddy glow; upon his cheek,
and the quiet gleaming of his clear, blue eye,"
that told the good effects of an early life of tem
perance,' and active manly toil. In the oppo
site chimney corner- sat the grey haired matron
whose love had cheered him through the toils of
youth and manhood; and who now shared the
' peace and contentment of his age. ' ' '
'I soon, fonnd, to my pleasure, that the old man
both remembered .well and loved to speak of the
scenes of 'his early" days" j and never had -story
teller oMTbf youiig,&'niore pleased . and atten
tive listener.- It was .a cold, stormy, blustering,
winter night. ' Th winds howled around the old
farm house and drifted the snow wreathes against
the window - panes with a fury that made the
greatfir&of logs, that was throwing its cheerful,
flickering blazer pver the room, doubly welcome.
As the night 'grew colder, we drew our chairs
closer around the . hospitable hearth, and while
" the young folks-were -enjoying the winter store
o$ apples andjriuts, and the old ladj quietly
knitting and the.' h.ouW dog slumbering1 on the
floor.-my. venerabieXack woodsman detailed ma
ny a thrilling anecdVte of the daring of the hun
tV and the vengeance, of the red man. ..
' At Jength, 'at "the earnest request of the young
folks, told us a story which I will endeavor
to repeat accurately, though, without hoping to
convey the charm imparted to it by the simple
ordi and manners of thenarator. ;
Without further preface than a preliminary
punch at the great backlog, which sent a cloud
of sparks up the huge chimney, yawning like
the mouth of a cavern, and roaring as if in de
fiance of the storm without, the old man pro
ceeded somewhat as follows :
' "For several years after the interior of the
state had began to settle up, and was becoming
quiet, this part of the country remained contin
ually liable to incursions by the wild, roving
tribes of Ohio. Companies of Indians, some
times consisting of thirty or forty, sometimes
of only three or four, were constantly crossing
over in canoes at night, setting fire to bnjns
and fields of grain, stealing horses, and some
times carrying off women nnd children. True,
there was one jDetty 'station' not far from where
we now are, but the scant, though valiant garri
son could do little for the defence of the fron
tier, beyond protecting the families immediately
within or aiound the walls, and by chasing re
treating parties of the enemy to the river. It
was about the year 17 , that the Indians, ta
king advantage of this defenceless state of the
border, increased their depredations to an alarm
ing extent. And it was in the spring of that
year that there appeared at the station I have
mentioned, a man, whose character and actions
seemed for a while to infuse new spirits into the
desponding frontier men.
' Who ' he was, or whence he came, no one
knew, though his singular habits and appear, j
ance called forth many inquiries. Tall, sinewy, j
and raw boned, with sunbunrt countenance,
seamed across the forehead with a deep scar, i
deep sunken-eyes, which in moments of excite- j
mcnt g'camed with a strange, lurid fire, and
dressed in the wild, half Indian costume of the
times, he presented a rather remarkable figure.
In spite, however, of his looks, his -dress and
his accoutrements, there was somethuing in his
conversation j.nd manners, which showed that ;
he possessed an intelligence and a breeding J
above the rude, unlettered men among whom j
he moved. j
The most prominent feature of his character, ;
the one thought of his Soul, seemed to be dead
ly, uncompromising hostility to the whole Indi
an race. In his ordinary intercourse with men
he was shy, taciturn and retiring. Eut in mo
ments of the chased and the conflicts, he seem
ed changed, transformed, and filled with a mys
terious fire, which rendered him an object of
wonder even to the bravest of the old hunters
who locked upen his reckless daring.
Thus uniting to supt rior intelligence, uudaunt.
ed cuurnge and lirce energy of purpose, he ac
quired at ence, and without appearing to seek
it, that ascendency over the minds of the sim
ple backwoodsmen, which such qualities must
ever gaiu in any community. Yet he seemed,
as much as possible, to avoid mingling with his
fellows. He refused to live in a stockade fort,
but built himself a little hut upon the summit
of a hill about three miles distant, where he
passed most of his time with no society save
that of his dog. j
But whenever the alarm was given that the ,
foo had crossed the river, he was seen at the
station, eommardirg, organizing, and planning;
a self appointed dictator, to whom all yielded
implicit obclienc?. In the pursuit and the con.
flict he was ever foremost. He sought to make
no prisoners ; death to the enemy was his watch
word and his only object. When the fight was
I over, he was heard claiming no booty, disputing
with no man about his share in the conflict ; but
j silently and unnoticed he stole back to his mount
; ain but to resume his solitary life. Thus the
woodsmen came to regard Mai with awe and al
most with superstitious reverence, and the in
quiries concerning his past life, checked by
his stern and austere manner, gradually died
t away. .. . .
There .was but one living being, besides his
dog, for whom he seemed to entertain any feel
ing of interest or affection." This was a young
hunter living at the station, and who had once
in an Indian battle, saved the old man's life at
the risk of his own. This boy he sometimes
suffered to join in hi3 hunting expeditions, and
to share his frugal meals. But even to him he
never spoke of his past history, and the boy was
to discreet to allude to it.
. " CHAPTER II. .
Months had passed' since the stranger made
his first appearance at the fort. Spring and
summer had come and gone, and autumn had
thrown his rich mantle of bright and mellow'
hues over the landscape, when one evening, a
few hours ere set of sun, the hunter and his
yonng companion might have been seen ascend
ing and descending the long, green hills which
skirt fhe chores of the Ohio, on their return
from one of their long and lonely wanderings
among the recesses of the mountains. Descend
ing the slope of a thickly wooded hill, they came
to the bank of the river, where a .sudden, bend
in the stream formed ai little cove; known as the
horseshoe. As they were about to cross the lit
tle pebbly beach in order to reach the hill which
rose in front of them, the hunter's attention was
attracted by the unusual and uneasy motions of
the dog, running higher and thither, rsnuf5ng
the air, and. pushing through the bushes ; which
skirted the bank, with a sharp, quick bark,;
,'Ua ! old Snarl ha3 snuffed something in the
wind. That dog's never wrong, Ilcre,. Snarl,
down, .down, old fellow, before the red skins
hear you !'
The dog came back and crouched at his mas
ter's feet, while he stepped cautiously forward,,
looking carefully about for 'tracks,' and peeping
anxiously into every thicket. .
'There it is, at last,' said he, suddenly, point
ing to the ground and turning a significant look
towards his companion. Sure enough, there were
too footprints in the sand. They were half ef
faced, but the keen eye cf the hunter could de
tect at once that they were quite recent, and had
been made by a moccasin. After a few mo
ment's scarcbithey found, snugly hidden beneath
the thick undergrowth that skirted the immedi
ate bank of the river, an Indian canoe, contain
ing a bag of parched corn, a little venison and
some powder.
'Well,' said the old hunter, after a few mo
ments' reflection, 'I'll trap the red scoundrels
this time.'
'How is that ?' asked his young friend.
Why, you see the canoe is so small that not
more than two or three can be in the party.
They must intend to return BtJon, or they would
have brought more provisions and hidden them
in a better place. Sol judge they intend to
commit their- deviltry to night, and be off be
fore day. Therefore, I'll just come down as
soon a3 the moon rises, lay in wait until they
get here, and then I think that Black Ee:s and
myself will answer for two or three scalps to
hang up in the cabin. In the meantime, I want
you to go to the fort and put the boys on their
guard, or some of them may be picked off be
fore they know what hurts, 'em.'
Well,' said the youth, 'I'm willing to go to
the fort and warn them, but you must let me
return and stand guard with you here. TI ere
may bo more Indians than you expect, and two
liUts are better than one anyhow.'
'No, no, boy ; do just as I tell you. There's
no chance whatever of there being any more of
3m ; and if there was, why, my old scalp is
is worth notingr-at any rate ; but you know
it won't do for you to get hurt just about this
time.'
The old man chuckled, and the young one
blushed in spite of his sunburt cheek. He was
to be married, in a few days, to a young girl at
the station.
His friend, however, paid no attention to his
blushes, but carefully replacing the canoe, and
erasing their own foot priuts, he led the way up
a rugged path which lay before them. This path
wound along the si la cf a narrow gorge, shut
out from the river by cliffs, and rendered gloom
y by their eternal shadows. After a tedious
walk of half an hour, the rocky path brought
them to the summit of the hill on which the
hunter' hvt was built.
CHAPTER HI.
The hut wa? rf the rudest and simplest con
struction, and almost hidden by the thick growth
of young trees, wild vines and bushes which the
hunter had left undisturbed. In front of it
stretched tho green sward for a few yards, and
then the hill went abruptly down, forming an
almost perpendicular precipice, at the foot of
which it sloped off again to the river's bank,
which was thus a considerable distance from
the hut.
As the two hunters gazed around from this
lofty eminence, the scene spread but below nd
around them was one of almost J indiscribablo
beauty. Far as the eye could reach, stretched
a sea of hills, more or loss abrupt, and covered
from bnsc to summit with a mantle of foliage
rich with all the varied hues of autumn. West
ward lay a level expanse of forest, over whose
tops arose the curling smoke of the distant sta
tion, the only visible sign of human existence.
At their very fact, apparently, flowed the broad
Ohio, rolling on in sluggish mnjesty, undistur
bed, as yet. by the keel of the steamboat or the
snort and whistle of the engine. And now, the
setting sun, in his dying glories, poured a rich
flood of light over the whole scene, making the
ripples of La Belle Riviere'-' seem a flood of
molten gold. " - - ;
i .The prospect was Indeed gloriou?, but the
yOung1 hunter in vain endeavored upon that
evening to make his friend participate in his
feelings of delight and admiration. J During the
whole day he had seemed unusually gloomy and
taciturn, and as evening advanced, a deeper me
lancholy settled upon his brow. Now he sat
upon the green grass, with face buried in his
hands, and returning brief, often incoherent an
swers, to the Trords of his companion. At
length, as if endeavoring to Telieve himself from
his own meditations, he raised his head and said,'
with an evident effort to be cheerful : - -
'And so, my boy, you are going to get mar
ried soon, they tell me ? Well,'well, you needn't
blush so Molly's a good girl, and wilU make
a hunter like you a first rate wife. Uut these
are trouble some' times to be 'marrying and gir-
en in marriage.' Ah! I remember '"'
"He paused, and his.'mihd seemed absorbed in
painful xecollection. . , ,
i ': What is' it that depresses ,yon .?': said ,'the
youth, coming nearer,' and laying his-hand gent
ly upon the old man's shoulder.' ' ' ' .'(' :!."
. 'Eoy,' he answered, at length, this is the fifth
anniversary of ay sorrow; that which made
me the outcast, wandering hunter you sec me
now. Never Uefore have I sought for human
sympathy-. But I love you a3 a son, and some
thing seeris forcing me to speak. Five sum
mers agoJtMs very hour, that same sun looked
down upon a happy home in West Virginia. It
was an humble log house, it is true, situated in
a lonely spot, amid hills and woods, but it was
full of comfort and happiness. That ! home
was mine.' For years, all went well with me.
My crops, my cattle were unsurpassed. ' But
above fcll, I had a wife who was an angle upon
earth, and two babies, a boy and a girl, who
would have made a desert happy with their
sweet laughter and their childish sports.
. 'Though remote from any human habitation,
and though the Indians were occasionally seen
and heard of in tho neighborhood of my dwel
ling I yet felt no fear. I had never, wronged
them, but on tho contrary, had often fed and
clothed half starved straggles from the tribe,
who would wander to my door, and blindly I
trusted to their magnanimity for the safety of
all I held dear.
Well, a little later in the day than this, just
five years ago, I was seated by my hearth with
my children on my knee, while my wife was bu
sied in the preparation of our evening meal.
The sun went down, and darkness came on, but
the air was so pleasant that I left the door open
to enjoy the fresh breeze that seemed making
music among the branches of the great caks be
fore the doer. I had lent my dogs to a neigh
bor fur a hunt, and there was nothlug to give
warning of danger save the melancholy hooting
of an owl in the neighboring forest. More than
once my wile spoke of the dismal effects that
sound had upon her feelings, but I laughed nt
her fears. & nddenly as she was crossing the
room, I hctrd her utter a scream of terror,
I turned, and beheld a dozen dusky forms crowd
ing into the doorway. Even now I can see their
white teelh chining as the fire light flashed up
on them. Springing from my seat, I was snatch
ing dowu ltty-Vinft which always hung-over the
fire place, when I received a blow from a toma
hawk, which made that scar upon my forehead.
A thousand Iigh(s gleamed in my eyes, and hor
rid sounds echoed in my ears as I fell insensi
ble. Severe as was the blow, I soon returned
to consciousness, owing, no doubt, to the exces
sive flow of blood. How awful the sight which
I beheld ! My wife standing bound in one cor
ner of the room, the little children sobbing and
clinging to her knees as if for protection, while
the fiends were heaping all my little furniture
into the centre of the room, evidently with the
intention of firing the house. Making a des
perate effort to rise, I gained my feet, and stag
gered forward a step or two, when the blood
gushed over my eyes, and I fell helpless and
blinded upoii the floor. The shrieking and sob.
bing of my wife and children at this pitablc
sight, were mingled with a laugh of derision
from the savages, who supposed that I was dead
at last. At this moment one of their seutinels
rushed in, exclaiming in their own language,
Fly ! fly ! the whites are coming.'
'I heard a few words of consultation. Then
command was given in tones I shall never for.
get. Then came blows and shrieks. They
were murdering my children ! Oh, God ! how
I writhed and struggled, in vain, to rise ! In
a moment their infant cries 'were stilled in
death. Then came a crashin blow, a fall, a groan,
and all was over! They had murdered my
wife ! Yes, they were all gone 1 all all! not
one left !"
The big tear-drops fell like rain through the
old man's clasped hands, and his strong frame
shook with agony. The young man said noth
ing, but wept. At length the hunter calmed
himself, and proceeded : .
"I became again insensible. A party of hun
ters who happened to be in the neighborhood
came in time to snatch my body from the burn
ing dwelling, but not soon enough to take ven
geance on the murderers. No, thank God, that
task was left for me !
"I was taken to a station. I was nursed and
tended mct kindly, but for weeks I lingered
upon the brink'of the ' grave. ' I wished to die,
I was delirious not only with pain and fever,
but with grief and 'rage. . But, at length, good
treatment and my own iron constitution proved
victorious. I recovered my health and strength
of body, but there was a fever at my heart wlich
no time, no medicine could cure. I came forth
twenty years older in feelings and appearance
My hair was grey and my face wrinkled, as you
seem them now.
But my change in body was nothing to my
change in soul. I, who before was too kind
hearted to have harmed a worm, wa3 now a ti
ger, thirsting for human blood. I thought of
nothing, prayed for 'nothing, but revenge ! I
sold my land, ' and swore never to rest until the
last of that band had fallen beneath my hand.
I have nearly , fulfilled my vow. Though I saw
thein butmce'f' each "of their features was burn
ed into my brainarid I could not mistake them.
Day and night,' Eummer and winter, alone - and
with bands of men, over' rivers and mountains,
.through forests and morasses, in all shapes and
in all disguises, I have1 tracked and followed
them. They made me a demon, and the demon
has turned against and rent them. In their
tents at midnight with their wives around them,
in the battle-field, and alone ia the dark forest,
I have met and slain them! One after another
they have fallen, and still one remains the
most subtle and ferocious of them all; and I
have followed lam here. He leads a band upon
the Ohio side, and I have watched and sought
for him day and night. They call him the Black
Wolf of the Prairie. You have heard of him be
fore; but when w e meet you will not hear of
him again!"
The hunter clenched Lis rifie fiercely, and
was silent. His companion sat mute and motionless.
CHAPTER IV.
Tho boy had not sat thus many minutes, how
ever, listening to the low hard breathing of his
excited friend, when his attention was attracted
by the sight of a familiar object floating upon
the river. It was the large boat belonging to
the station, and rowed by an old faithful negro.
The fluttering of a female dress in the etern of
the boat, revealed the presence of his sister
and his betrothed. They had come oiil to meet
hiin on his return from the chase. Jumping
from tho grass to hail them, his step was arres
ted by an occurrence which struck him at once
with terror and amazement. The river bank,
far below him, was lined with a thicket of young
trees, matted together by a luxuiient growth of
vines and creepers of every description. From
the thicket he beheld a thin curl of smoke arise,
followed by the report of a rifie and a single
wTar-whoop. Before he could move or speak,
the old negro had fallen heavily from his seat
into the water, and two' savages were seen to
spring into the river, and with their rifles held
above their heads, gain the boat, now drifting
with the current.
With a cry of horror the young man grasped
his rifle, and rushing forward, would have
plunged over the precipice, had not the strong
hand of the hunter, laid upon his shoulder, ar
rested his steps.
"Stop, rash boy, or you will ruin every
thing!"
"Hands off, old man, I say! My sister and
Mary ! I must save them !"
"You must, and you shall. Follow me at
once ! If the Indians sec you, they will push
across the river, aud they will be lost forever."
By this time the Indians had placed them
selves in the bow and stern cf the boat, and
were sculling her along, keeping her in the cur
rent. The boat was large nnd heavy, and their
progress was not rapid. But the young man
saw at a glance that his companion was right ;
and, accustomed to yield implicit obedience to
his dictates, he turned reluctantly and followed
him down the same narrow pass which had bro't
them to the hut.
"Back, Snarl! stay here, sirrah!'' said the
hunter to the dog, who would have followed
them. "And now, my boy, look to your tools,
we have work ahead !"
Away, like bloodhounds on the trail, they
started down the rocky path. The sun had set,
and the twilight glimmer which was left served
only to throw strange, dark shadows over their ;
rugged pathway; but with the firm, unerring !
tread of the hunters "in a mountain land," they
dashed forward at full speed. The contrast be
tween the two was great. The one, furious and j
half demented at the idea that those he loved
best on earth were in the hands of the brutal
savages, grasped his rifle with a very death-grip,
and with clenched teeth, sprang and bounded like
a wild deer startled from his covert. The oth
er, older and more accustomed to restraining
outward signs of emotion, went as swiftly, but
with the long, measured tread of a pursuing
panther, taking care, as he went, to look to the
priming of his rifle, and to loosen his long hunt
ing knife in his scabbard. Few were the min
utes (though they seemed like hours to the youth)
ere they emerged upon the smooth level bjach
of the cove. It was, as we have said before, a
little, pebbly place, a few yards square, with
hills coming gently dawn to it upon three sides.
On that side furthest, but only a few yards dis
tant from the shore, lay a giant oak, which had
been uprooted in some ong prvious storm, and
which now reclined, like a fallen monarch, in
stern and silent majesty, with its giant arms
still lifted up towards heaven. Behind this nat
ural rampart the two hunters placed themselves,
with the long barrels of their rifles supported by
its trunk, t : .. '.,., .
The harvest moon had 'now risen in, all its
splendor, shedding a glorious flood of light over
tho scene. The river seemed ono bed of liquid
silver. The fog was rising, and the distant hills
stealing out through their hazy azure mantle,
seemed like ghostly sentinels or mountains in
dream-land. The nearer forests, as they seem
ed to clamber up the steep hill-sides, .were hero
tipped with silver, here wrapped in impenetra
ble gloom; A little ridge which ran out into
the river from one end of the cove, giving it its
peculiar shape, was crowned by a bristling ar
ray of yoang forest trees that stood out with
strange distinctness against the clear ble sky.
' "Be still, boy P eaid-the old man, in a whis
per, as' the youth moved uneasily in his posHk-n:
"They will be here soon." All was still, indeed.
The river did make a low, rippling, splashing
noise among the bushes that hung down into its
waves, and an owl in a neighboring tree sent
forth his long and melancholly hooting, but all
else was calm and noiseless.
"Curso that owl !" muttered the old man, for
getting his own inductions ; "it was just that
way he hooted this night five years ago.
Tho young man shuddered as the tale of hor
ror ho had listened to was thus brought to hia
mind, and made him reflect how soon th
same fate might fail upoa hi3 sister and his
Vride.
A moment more and the low splash of oarg !
heard ; another and the boat swept rapidly
around the projecting point which formed tha
upper end of the cove. In the bright moonlight
every figure was plainly discernable. In the
stern sat a small Indian, steering, and occasion
ally speaking to the two girls ia the middle of
the boat, who, with terrified countenances, lay
clasped in each other's hands, as if for protec
tion. In front stood a tall and magnificent lock
ing fellow, in all the war-fincry of an Indian
chief, with scalp-lock, feathers, paint, and silver
bracelets. He, too, handled an oar, while his
rifle lay at his feet.
As the boat came near enough for them to dis
tinguish the features of those on board, the old
man started as if an adder had stung him.
"By heavens! 'tis the Black Wolf! Thank
God, the hour is come ! Don't move," he whis
pered between his clenched teeth, "until I say
the word; then fire at the smaller Indian."
The youth feit excited, also, but by a stron"
effort, quelling their emotions, the two lay mo
tionless as statues, while the polisLed tubes of
their rifles gleamed like fire in the moonlight.
The boat strikes the shore. The chief steps
out, and order the girls to rise and follow him ;
but, insensible with grief and fear, they neither
hear nor heed his command. The smaller Indi
an, enraged at their obslinac, rises with an
cath, and stepping forward, clutches Mary by
the arm, as if to pull her from her seat. Tho
young man can contain himself no longer. A
quick, clear report rings out upon the air, and
the smaller Indian, with a single cry, leaps up
and falls dead in tho boat. The old hunter, ta
ken by surprise, fires hurridly, and a half-smothered
groan from the chief, as he springs back
into the boat, tells that he is wounded, but not
mortally, lie seizes an oar and pushes the
boat from the land. Quick as thought, with a
bound like that of a tigress robbed of her young,
and a terrible shout of vengeance tho hunter
has sprung into the boat, and grappled with hia
last and most deadly enemy!
But th warrior though wounded, is not con
quered. The long, keen blade of an Indian
scalping knife gleams an instant in the moon
light the next, it finds a sheath in the hunter's
breast. But there is no time for a naennA Mm
the hands of the Avenger are at the chief
tain's throat. The cry of "Blood for blood,"
rings in his ears ! The boat rocks with the ter
rible struggle. They totter, they fall with a
heavy splash, and go down in the terrible em
brace of death. A sullen wave, a few bubble
and the dark waters of the Ohio roll over tho
hunter and his Indian foe. Such was the JIun
tor's llevenjc !
"And were their bodies never found ?" I in
quired, when the old man had finished his story.
"Yes; long year3 afterward, when the wa
ters were unusually low, in a bed of driftwood
which must have lain upon the bottom for half
a century, two skeleton forms were found by a
startled fisherman, still locked in a last embrace.
They have been buiied upon the summit of the
hill, where once stood the huuter's hut, and
there they repose side by side."
"And the young hunter what of him?"
"I am he, and there is his young bride,''
and he pointed with a smile to the grey-haired
matron, in the opposite chimney corner.
I looked up, and saw the eyes of the old cou
ple filled with tears. Columbian and Great
West. . "
A writer in the Wilmigton Herald, says the
following rule Jiavc been aoopted bv hiiddla
aged married gentlemen, when they assume thr,
privilege f kissing their young and pretty c.r,a
sins. They certainly seem to have formed a ve
ry accurate conception of the proper manner
in which this innocent luxary shoul d ie en
joyed: ' ..."
Of course you must be taller rhaa la(y
you intend to kiss ; take her right haud in
yours, and draw her tightly to you, pass your
left arm over her right shoulder, diagonly down
across her back, under her left arm, 'press her
to your bosom, at the same time she will throw
her head back and y 0u have nothing to do bu
lean a little forward and press your lips to hers'
and the thing is done; don't make a noise over
it, as if you were firiog off percussion caps, or
trying tho water cocks of a steam engine.., nor
pounce down upon it like a hungry hawk upon
an innocent dove, but gently fold the damsel ia
your arms without deranging the economy of
her tippet or rude, and, by a sweet. presr
when r;er mouth revel in the blissfulncos of vnr
situation, without sraackinc vour llrs on it a
-yu trould over a roast duck ' " ' ;
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