North Carolina Newspapers

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C.KXXIS 1I..VII,KY,
WIT.MAM' D. COOKR. ' V
LY TTEIiT'O N WADDELL, JR
.1
A FAMILY X E W SPA? E E -T E UTPi A L II POLITICS.
EDITORS.
TERMS;nWO DOLLARS
PER ANNUM.
tpaitis to all tfo Sntercatg of florrt) Carolina, ucatiott, ntulture, ktmtMtm, ftc Jarfcts,
.Sad
1BU
roi,. n-m. 38.
SELECT POETRY.
NOTHING IS -LOST.
BY J. C. PRICE.
Nothing is lost : the drop of dew
Which tremb'es on tho leai' or flower
Is but exhafed, to fall anew p
. In Rummer's Ahunder-shower ; .
' Perchance to shine within the bow
Thut front the1 sun sit fall of da-
Perchance to fparkle" in the flowe ;
Of fountains far away. ' - '
Nought lost; for e'en the tiniest seed
By wild birds borne or breezes blown.
Finds omeihing suited to it need
V7herein 'tis sown and grown ;
Perchance finds sustenance and soil,
In some remote and desert place,
Or, 'mid the crowded homes of toil,
Sheds usefulness and grace. '
- V i -
The little drift of common dust,
liy the March winds disturh'd and tossed,
Hiougli sc itier'd by the fiiful gust,
Is changed, but never lst ;
It yet may bear some sturdy stem,
Some provd oak battling with the blast,
Or crown with verdurous diadem
Sotuerui'it of the past.
The furnace quench'd, the flame put out,
Stid di-g to.earth'Wr soar in air ;
Transform'd,' diffused, and blown about.
To burn ayiin elsl-where:
Iln'ply to make t lie beacon hlaze,
Vhieh gleams athwart the briny waste,
Or light the social lmp, whose rays
Illume the home of tasie.
The touching tones of minstrel art,
The breathings, of the mournful (lute,
"Which we have heard wish list ning heart,
Are no! extinct hen mule :
The lanjru'ag' of some household soncr, '
" The perinuie of some -cherih'd flower,
-' Though gone from outward sense, belong
To uicmury's after hour.
So with our words, or h irsh, or kind,
Ut crM, they are not ail forgot;
They leave their influence on the mind,
I'a-s on, but-perish not. ' i, '
- As they are sp"ks n,"so .they f-ll
t'pon the spirit .spoken to
Scorch it like drops of burning gall,
Or sooth like jhoney-dew. -
' .
So with our deeaV, for good or ilf,
They have-a power scarce understood;
Then let us use our better will
, To make them rife with good.
Like circles on a lake they go,
Oh. ih it our deed were fa,hion'd so
1 That they might bless id way !
THE IDIOT'S IVIDENCE.
t :.. A KEMINISCENCE.
AVtjOEVEB has happened to visit the pleasanrlv
situated vi lage of IIue Anchor, Bridgewater Buy,
nomersfctshire, (Eng.) can hardly have failed to no
tive! ou its extrjm:ty a pretentious sort of cottage.
rtrnii in iIa fll.l.-.,,-. . . . . . 1 ....1.. n S..ni..l
riie in :the
ej)er-l)ox-loukiiig structure at the gate
entrance,
ligiiified bv tlie'maine of "Porter's Lodtre." Tltis
fedince was buiit by a Mr. Waiuwriglit, of Betlmel
jLiren, Loiid'iu, who having, in the course of half
a century of saving, industry, and single-blessed-
iess, scraped togetlier a handsome competency,
jpuddenly determined .upon exchanging his busines
aud his. bachelorhood for the retirement of Blue
'Anchor, near which he was born, aird "marriage
with a good-looking widow of less than half his
own. age, but. amply dowered with Tfive small chil
dren. Wedded bliss did not seem to agre with
Ir. Wain wright, for after, the'aehievement of La-
bur3um Villa left' him nothing on eartti to do but
v I Jr.. ,.,:....u.: i. . .
iu ta on ccw ujiauiuiiin, tie. ailpr miitiinof l hrnnir r
lout six months of restless lifesatik with entire
esignation, the minister said, to his final rest, leav-
Snw Mrs. WainwHfrhfc. bv a will niaa in tl.a J-f
fveek of tye honey-moon, absolute mistress of some
twelve thousand' pounds in tlie funds, in addition
!to Laburnum Villa and its appurtenances of ave
jything. in short," of which he had died seized or
)'o!sesse4. We of Hiue Anchor, had but brief op
Jportunity of noticing how-the widow of her second
4 O ' D ' ' LIIV, tll.Tt
jliusband bore her sorrow, one little' month only
avmg passed" away before she took her departure
forIxndon; and a painted board, stuck in the
front flower-garden, announced that Laburnum
ia and grounds were to be sold: further par
ticulars obtainable of Mr. Holford, Blue Anchor
jpending which ultimate disposal of the property,
a Deutly-liamed card-id 'the lodge window, gave no
tice, that fnrnisliAd anartnieniVKli aTtenaarree,-
mig' t le obtained ty application within.
Wr. iioiford was; my father, wno, naving ni
some slight acnuaintance with Mr. and Mrs. ain-
wrio-ht. had undertaken to keep an eye upon me i
inperty, as well as over Joel barton, me gaie
ketper, and Mistress Fanny Denvir, or Bennett
tlxre' beingj in some persous' opinion, considerable
tot upon this point the youthful liousekeepei
M - Z ' . . . a r i I , I t.t
t in charge ot the interior ot uoumuiu
Jutl was a parish boy, having been' born, bred, ed
ucated that is, taught to read without mucu
sn hnor and to -wnt mtp ur-.b v to nersons sKUiea
in paligraphieal litfieulties in the woi khouse. tie
liaid but pne relation, a decrepid, almost bedridden-
BUiiher : and. in other respects, was emphatically
life child of calamity. In person he was -greatly
def.rmed, and his large, ' coarsely-f-atured head,
S'iuat. as it were. uiun his broad shoulders, and
protruding back and breast, would have presented
I . 7 . . . -II- '
an altogether repulsive aspect, but tur the hue dark
6y?s-which I have often seen ki die! into lustrous
expression of sad eloquence when words of kind-
nessor sympathy'iell upon his ear. Ihe untortu-
nate lad's intellect too, was unsound unsettled, I
som.-tin ftw-infrhL mi'frht be the truer description ;
by the bov-rabble '.of Blue' Anchor he was al-
ays addressed pnd spoken ot as "roojisn, or .uau
Joey." The taunts and torments, to which he was
exposed on account of his 'mental infirmityceased
at about his fifteenth vear his remarkab.e strengtn
oft arm, ponderosity of fist, and fierce courage, at
mat a'a pflWtimlk- nrntectini? mm iroui oci
noyance. Nevertheless, he did not cease to be
spoken of.asia half-crazed, sullen, dangerous p.
'n, whom, spite of some good 'qualities, such as
v v. fidefitv. trutlifiilness. it was prudent to,
W possible, avoid; and -there cottia uc uo
SELECTED STORY.
tossible, avoid;
- Ri
dofcbt that the persecution to which he liad bee-,
so many years exposed had quickened and exaspt
rated whatever of sinister predisposition was lat
ent in his imperfectly-developed cranium. With
the exception of his mother and Fanny Bennett, I
was about the only person for whom 'be ever man
ifested confidence or respeci, from my having been
able to render him' some trifling services. Fanny's
influence over him was of a very different charac
ter, and incomprehensible, I believe, td himself, ofr
teu confessedly , wondvrina I "waslsure he did,
why it was that ber brigbt face and igentle voice
inside his pulse beat, and the dark chambers of his
braiHn lighted with a troubled, "half-fearful joy.
And the child-beauty herself could at that time
have little dreamed that the words and looks o..
co'i passionate kindness which she bestowed upon
Foolish Joey would thereafter have so marked an
effect upon her own destiny; that herlown life-experience
would furnish a striking illustration of the
wisdom of the injunction set forth iri; her dame
school copy-book : '"Scorn not the afflicted nor the
outcast, for they also are God's children."
This Fanny Bennett was another of our village
notorieties I had almost' Written calamities -forasmuch
that at. the period of which I am now
speaking, it would have been hard to decide which
of the two, the house or gatekeeper at Laburnum
Villa, had been most unfortunate in tlie lottery oi
life. Of very humble parentage -her father iwas'
a journeyman market-gardener Fanny Bennett
was one of those rare flowers scattered here iaud
there over the bleak wastes of the world, whose
fresh, rustic beauty possesses so mighty, if but mo
mentary charm, for men -palled with the trained
graces -the cultivated attractions of the lilies and
roses which adorn the gorgeous parterres of high
society.. A good girl, too gui.eless,, affectionate,
and dutiful ; and, spite of fb,e inflation of vairity ,
which the constant breath of even village admira
tion could hardly fail to generate inj her young
brain, might have kept her feet and the even tenor
of her .peaceful way, had it not unfortunately
chanced that a fashionable lady of Bath whom it
is unnecessary to name struck by her appearance
and natural elegance of manner, offered totake-her
into her service as "companion," educate, and pro
vide for her.' The temptation was irresistible, and
Fanny, who had just turned her sixteenth year,
left Blue Anchor in tlie great lady's "carriage. The
promise of the lady -patroness w as so far fulfilled
that she was taught so much of superficial accom
plishment, as might be-useful, or agreeable to her
mistress- hair-dressing, che k-painting, embroide
ry to play-the piano sufficiently well to accom
pany her own voice in the simple ballads she sang
so sweetly, and to read with1 uough of; skilled em
phasis to render a novel or a newspaper intelligi
ble to jyjfjadcd lis te n er..AJfllvt th ree rea rs had
thus passed when her mistress died. rather 'sudden-,
ly, and the pretty protege 'found .herself provided
for to the extent of fifty pounds, and a mourning
ring, to be worn as a memento of the deceased la
dy's virtues and munificence.
Thus portioned with rich beauty, vain pretence,
and fifty pounds in cash, Fanny Bennett, after a
fruitless attempt to procure another situation-as
" companion," returned to fret away her youth,
with vexation and disgust amidst the meanness and
monotony of her father's poor home and its drudg
ing duties, as she had learned to consider them.
Changed in temper, puffed up with pride, impatient
of her humble position, the young ; morning of
Failny Bennett's life seemed already darkened with
the prophetic shadow of a sinister catastrope, if 1.
might believe -the.ptetendediy careless post-criptun
of a letter addressed to ipe at Bristol where I
was at the tiu!e on a vis't to a relative by my
father.- I had never hinted a serious thought re
garding her to him or any one else, but had -long
since, notwithstanding, asJ clearly discerned as he
strongly disapproved the feeling towards the beau
tiful maiden which had seemed to grow with my
life in Constantly-increasing strength and virility.
From my earliest recollection 1 had dreamt dreams
associated with P'anny Bennett, and my father's in-;
tejligence producing a contrary effect to what he
intended, I invented an expuse for hastening home
at once, though with what precise purpose I hard
ly knew myself. Whatever it might have proved,
no opportunity was afforded me of putting it in
action, for the very day bfctore I reached Blue An
chor, Fanny Bennett left; it in company with a
Lieutenant Denvir a -young and dashing gentle
man, of attractive exterior to be married, j the
village folk reported, with a sneer and a titter, at
Bath. The stranger, whd was passiug a few days
at Hiue Anchor, had chanced to meet her about a
fortnight after her return home, and the result just
related had ensued. It seemed to have taken no
one by surprise ; neither did her retur,n, after about
wo years absence, ill,, "'ejected, her beauty dim
med by grief and disappointment, accompanied by
a young child, her -son. j She had not, it seemed.
ived with her husband, as she persisted jn calling
llll HUH 1- i i in" 11 '" " "",', '". ' .
since when she had dwelt m obscure lodgings in
London, barely supported by occasional remittances
from Mr. Denvir. inese ceaseu ior -fi.ro
hftr return home, and a letter; reached i her,
purportino- to be subscribed by a solicitor, out mere
ly dated London, May 19, 1836, by which she was
;.fArml that "the irentleman trom
allowance she had received was derived, having
died rather suddenly, it would necessarily be dis
continued." I write, at her 'father's request, to the
h faet of bis:deceasei and
war ouii.T, iu tv-.v -.
a curt oflkial repiy. informed me that if I had con
sulted any army-list, I should have seen that no
Theodore' Denvir held a commission in his Ma
jesty's service. This was decisive, and no further
doubt remained of the nature of the villanous ar
tifice to which, aided by her own rash folly, lanny
Bennett had fallen a victim. J ,
Falh.n thus low from the imaginary height she
S had attained, the future of the. young wife and
I motto-there was no doubwe ascertjinedhat
i Uie ceTemonv of marriage had been performed be
tween her and the fellow calling bimsetf Lieuten-
i ant Denvir
seemed a dreary, weu-nrg" uv,-
' one ; and Mrs,
Wainwright, who, whatever uer
other qualities, had a large share ot womanpv ..
pathy and compassion, left her in charge of Labur
num" Villa at a fair salary and liberal lard-jwages,
.mil .T.Mil till tlio fin-jl disnosal of the property,
was coufirmed in his office of gate-keeper. Nothing,
isfortunes ot
in pfmneoti.-in with tVi fortunes and misfortunes
Fanny Bennett, or , Denvir, came to my knowledge
till four or five months subsequent to Mrs, W am
wright's departure. It was a delicious afternoon ;
the tide was out, and I had. been for some time
strolKng about on the broad sands of Bridgewater
Bay, chewing. the end of sweet and bitter fancy-
LEIGH, NORTH CAROLINA, SATURDAY, AUG
the latter flavor, as I remember, strongly predomi
nating when Joel Barton, whom I had observed
busy about a pleasure-boat, in which h j frequently
accommodated the lodgers at Laburnum Villa with
a row or sail, came rapidly, and with seeming pur
pose, towards me. His face, as he abruptly stopped
and intently reconnoitered my couiftenance, wore,
it struck me, a peculiarly malicious, or, at all events,
mocking, as well as it usual indecisive wavering
expression Lhav1fbcMB he
-began, thoving the boat out towards low-water
mark, so' that she may fleet soon after the tide
rises : our house-keeper and Mr. Churston are croing
out together for a sail not for the first time,
'either."
. " Your housekeeper and Mr. Churston !" I tartly
rejoined, vexed that I could not conceal the hot
flush which instantly made my ears tingle, my
eyes flash, and face feel like burning coals. "What
is that to me!"
Joel laughed, and I was about to make some
fierce and therefore foolish reply, when he said,
with quick seriousness of tone " I always go with
th em, Master Iloltord, alwavs. Do aou know," he
added, peering; with his dark, uncertain eves close
. , iZ7 J "
into my face "Do you know that only yesterday,
when they were out together, the little boy Theo
dore would have been drowned but for me ? Mr.
.Churston let him fall overboard into the water bv
accident, of course, you know entirely accident,"
and Joel laughed again with a bitter mocking hi
larity, incomprehensible to me. " I fancy our
housekeeper will be married again soon," he pre
sently added, finding I made no answer.
" Married again ?'J I blurted; " be' duped again,
you mean." .
" Yes, duped again, that's it, Master Holford;
but not quite like as before. Mr. Churston is rich
an'd .respectable. Lawyer Page.. of Bridgewater,
answers for that. And see, Master Holford,' he
added, with abrupt vehemence " Foolish Joey, as
thev call him, will soon be rich and respectable too
look here !"
lie extricated, as he was speaking, a canvass
bag from his browsers pocket, containing, perhaps,
a dozen sovereigns, emptied it into his hand, and
contemplated his riches with fiercS exultation.
For saving .Master Theodore," he exclaimed, ;as
soon as he could withdraw his 'fascinated gtare
from the gold ".Mr. Churs.ton's reward for saving
Theodore - ha ! ha ! ho.! ho I
Before I could say a word, the restless humpback
started off, and strode away some thirty or forty
yards. He then stopped abruptly, paused as if in
doubt fr a minute, hurried back to where I stood,
and' said "Mistress Fanny hates, detests, loathes
this man as she might a spotted toad.- I -never
heard her say so ; but I know it for all that. I
observe many things that wise men' .don't, foolish
as L am. ; -
" What,'then, is to induce her. to marry him ?"
"The. fear of poverty, the dread of want, not for
herself, but for her boy ; that she may else live to
see him pine for lack of food. The house is sold,
and we have had warning to leave!"
" Well, Joel," I replied, "I can do nothing in
the matter, and-it's useless, therefore, to worry our
selves by dwellina: upon it. An infernal business,
I admit,-though not exactly yours or mine."
Ihe wild, eirat.c intellect ot Joel who, I was
convinced, had been drinking, though, to do him
justice, tins was not an ordinary vice ot his seem
ed to determinedly steady and concentrate itself as
I spoke, and after a slight hesitation he said "I
know you better, Master Holford, than to believe
thoe words-' eome from your heart;' and I am al
most sure I could trust you ; an I yet, perhaps, you
would not have the courage to to
"Courage to do what, in the devil's name ?"
" This, Master Holford, I know I am sure of,"
resumed Joel, with resolute calmness. " that this
marriage would never take place if of her boy was
once well out of the way if the -child was.
uead!" '
These words, slowly distilled, as it were, from
Joel's lips, aiid accompanied by his maniacal inqui
sition of in y countenance, seemed to arrest the
current of my blood. " Good Heaven !" I, after
awhile, found breath to exclaim, " what diabolical
thought possesses you ? You surely would not- .
But I see you have been drinking J,o excess, and
hardly know . . .
" Drinking!" fiercely interrupted the wayward
man- "and what if I have, it dosen't' so often
happen ; and you; who are so sober and wise, not
to have seen I was jokieg a fool like me would
have known I was only making fun. But the boat
is fleeting, I see, and I must be off to warn the
wife and husband that are to be. Good-bv, Mar
ter Holford." . .
I immediately turned homewards, in about as
savage and perplexed a mood as ver I rememb
er to have experienced. Mr. Uhurston, who. I
was aware, had been lodging for several'weeks at
tofty-! once or twice at a
of age; and ir..? Agues9ed, about fifty y ears
throw herself away upon a fellow old ehougn to
be her father, how could I help it ? And what
right, moreover, had I to feel angry thereat? I,
who had never, that I was aware of, given the
slightest intimation of Bah ! Let her marry I
Beelzebub if she would what was it to me? And
that crazed and drunken Joel, what might there
be of seriousness in the dark fancies floating in his
distempered brain ? Surely he could have no real
intention of murdering a child whose life he boast
ed -of having yesterday saved, with the absurd
view of removing what he supposed to be Mistress
Denvir s inducements to marry Churston ? It could
scarcely be, and yet when, thus soliloquizing, I
reached home, I could not refrain from imparting
to my father the substance of Joel's ravings; He
was chief constable of the district- a honorary
office in ,thots;e days and might, I thought, speak
to Joel in a tone of authoritative- warning. He,
however,Lmade very light of the matter ; was quite
sure Joel must have been tipsy to have uttered
such .folly, and was, I saw, not in the least put out
by the news of Mistress Denvir's approaching mar
riage. About the very best thing she could do,
he calmly observed, "and a lucky chance withal;
for," added he, looking steadily over his spectacles
at his only son, " what respectable young man, of
independent meaus, would marry Fanny Bennett,
or. Denvir, or whatever else her legal name may be,
after all that has come and gone ?" A brief, en
lightening sentence leapt to my lips, and would
have passed them, but for a. resolute effort for
what coujd such a declaration now avail, except to
greatly irritate my father? To avoid temptation
1 1 Waruptlr left the room. 4
We heard nothing further of the inmates of La
bu rnum Villa till the- following Sunday evening.
The month was September, and the equinoctial
gales of autumn had set in with unusual violence,
as the howlings of the wind round the gables of
the bouses, and the booming of the tumbling surf
in the bay, unmistakeably gave tokem The storm
which had sddenbr risen was. at its height about
eVht o'clockiear wjiich time a loud knocking,
ii'Py repeated at 'the outer door, startled ritjy
father and myself from the dozy though tfuiness in
duced in us both by the warmth of the fire within
and the roaring of the tempest without. The door
was answered, and the next minute Joel Barton
staggered into the room, his face white as a sheet,
his eyes on fire with excitement, and his hair and
clothes dripping with seatwater.
"I I want," he stammered in answer to our
mute questioaing, "I want somebody you, Master
Holford -to go and break the bad news to to to
Mistress Denvir."
"Bad. ne s? What news?"
: ".That little Theodore is drowned."
" Drowned ? murdered you mean, wretched vil
lain !" shouted my father, at the same moment
rushing up and seizing Joel. - .
"No no, drowned 1 say," persisted the hunch
back. " Let hie go,will you? The, tiller of the
boat," he went on to say, after ridding himself of
my father's grasp, and looking the while unquietry
at me "The tiller of the boat in which I had ta
ken him for a sail snapped when the storm came
on, the boat shot up into the wind, and the flap
ping of the mainsail swept him over. 1 tried to save
him, but could not."
More passed, but : suffice it to say, that spite of
his protestations, my father conducted Joel to the
cage or temporary lockup-house, and then proceed-. t.
ed to break the terrible tidings at Lajburuum Villa
i accompanied lum as tar as tlie gate only, tor the
purpose of delivering the message Joel had charged
me with to his mother. She had become so ex
tremely deaf, that I could hardly make her under
stand that Joel was unexpectedly detained from
home that night." "Oh, ""ah !" she at last muttered.
" I understand ; -Au't you have nothing for me ?"
And the bleary eyes of the old woman rested ea
gerly on my hands, as if she. thought I had money
for her. "Nothing," I bawled, and came away.
My father did not return home till near two o'clock,
and had, as I anticipated, passed through a very
distressing scene. " I have also had, Charles," he
added, "a rather loug conversation with Mr. Chur
ston, and it is certain that the death of the boy has
broken off the expected marriage. Mr. Churston
frankly told me, that upon mature reflection, he had
made up his mind- deuced suddenly, it is clear
that tbe'tinioh could hardly fail to be an unhappy
this." ' j . r ' - '
" There is, indeed ; and Joel shall, as I faithfully
promised him, be informed of that fact as soon as .
it is light. This terrible business is not yet fath-
omed, depend upon it." .'
My father agreed and went to bed ; not however
to sleep at least I did not and by six o'clock '
Joel Barton received my message. The reply was
an earnest request to see me and my father imme
diately. We were with him in less than a quarter
of an hour, an'd fairly knocked backwards by a
blunt declaration orVcoufession", the instant we en
tered the place, that he, Joel Barton, had drowned,
murdered little Theodore Denvir, at the instigation
of Mr. Churston I' " I have only had a small part
ot the promised reward, added the wretched felon,
" which I showed to Master Holford the other day,
and now he thinks to throw me over, but he shan't.
You don't believe me perhaps. Well,.ail I can
say, only just examine Ids paper before he gets
away, and if you don't find out why he tempted
me to commit the dreadful deed, say that I bear
false witness !" ;
We could scarcely believe our ears, but as.. Joe
sullenly persisted in his statement, it ai my fath
er's duty, under the circumstances, to act with de
cision, and off we presently set towards Laburnum
Villa, Joel caremily guarded by two constables.
We were but just in time, as a fly was at the door,
and Mr. Churston' just about to-step into it. He.
started and changed color at seeing us, but iu reply
to my -father's requestito speak to him privately,
answered boldly enough, that he could not lose the
time, as he feared missing the coach already.
4C:You must spare the time, Mr. Churston," was
the stern rejoinder. " You are my prisoner."
"Prisoner! God of heaven! And upon what
charge!"
" As an accessory before the fact, to the murder
of Theodore Denvir! Ah ! I see that it is an in
telligible accusation Here, steady yourself by my
arm, and let us go into the house."
We all followed, and as soon as Mr. "jChurston's
effects had been brought into the room, my father
fastened the door on the inside. Joel then repeat
ed his previous statement, but avoided, I noticed,
during the recital to look Mr. Churston in the face.
As he went on. that gentleman seemed to recover
burst out into a funoils vituperauuu x mc aiw.ug
witness, whom' he very liberally qualified as a lying
felon, a slandering lunatic, &c, and at last' wound
up a fierce and indignant tirade, by asking my fath
er what possible motive he could have had ia com
passing the death ot the child J
"that 1 do not know;vbut the prisoner, Kel
Barton, avers that the examination of your papers
will unfold iU" . : "
The reviving confidence of Mr. Churston fled at
once on hearing this, and he was again deadly pale
and trembing in all bis limbs. " Who wilt dare,"
he gasped, " to meddle with my letters or papers ?"
" The' nearest mag'sti ate will, be assured ; and
we had better seek hhu at once. Come, further
parley would be usels."
"One "moment, Nr. Holford one moment!"
exel ai med Ch urston, iupon w h ose w h i t e fore head
larf e leads of agony arere standing. " Let me re
flect: I am as innocent of this horrible charge as
yourself. Still, thereare circumstances there are
papers, which, unexp dned, might suggest. Yes,
I will be frank "with ou, and state, unreservedly,
the exact position in hich I am placed."
'VAs yon please, nly remember that what you
say may be used agailst you hereafter.
"Of course of carse. Well, then, since the
truth must out, I anj the uncle of Mrs. Denvir's
husband. No won you exclaim, but hear me
out. His name waiChurston, not Denjir. He
died about six weeks Igo only, of a fall from his
horse but he lingeret
long enough' to repent him
of his conduct toward
bis rustic wife, and his last
will defises his propy, about 300 per annum ,
20, 1853.
to her, till his son, by her, attain his majority, when
it will pass to him, charged with; a life annuity of -200
to his mother. This testament was a terri
ble blow to me. I am not richvery far from it
indeed, though I contrive to keep tip appearances,
and by" an agreement with Mr. Peacocke, the soli
citor, of Furmval's Inn. . who drew the will, to the
effect that I would seek out the widow and child,
I obtained an opportunity oriolicUing "her in tnar
riagfc befote the change in her circumstance could
be known. The death of a child, of which, by my
hopes of salvation, I am entirely innocent entire
ly changes my position, as in that case the proper
ty wasjdevised to me, scharged with the widow's
annuity only. This is all the crime of which l have
been giailty. .
A knock at the door interrupted him. It was
the unhappy mother, who came to ask'if any tid
ings had been heard of her child. She had not, of
course,; the slightest idea that he had been murder
ed. Upon my father answering the question in
the negative, sire sank into a chair, hid the pale
oeauty ot In r lace-in her hands, and sat there sob
bing convulsively, and deafly inattentive to what
else was said.
"Even-if4 you have told the truth, and all the
truth, Mr. Churston," aid my father, in a low
voice, ' the matter must be judicially sifted, and we
had better begin at oncei'
"But this will be ruin, Mr. Holford," returned
Mr. Churston, in the same tone "ruin to my char
acter t all events, and this, too, upon the unsup
portedevidence of a malicious idiot."
"No, no, not unsupported, Mr. Churston," repli
ed Joel, with suppressed but evident exultation ;
"the ijjiot has evidence to bring forth that cannot
be contradicted. Here, Master Holford. cut this
button off my coat; now -let a constable take that
and show it to my mother at the gate; and' when
he returns we shall see what-Master Churston has
to say: for himself." i ' .
This was done, and several minutes of wonder
ing, expectant silence passed, broken only by the
moaninga of the bereaved mother. The footsteps
of the constable were then heard returning along
the narrow path, and no -other sound that I couid
hear but the mysterious instinct of the mother
was more keenly appreciative, for at once the sob
bing ceased, and she sprang, up In an attitude of
intense listening attention, which seemed to become
more "absorbed and eager with each passing mo
ment. The door' was flung open, and a wild rap
turous scream, .almost a maniacal outburst of ma
ternal joy, was ' simultaneous with the entrance' of
her son, the reputedly drowned or murdered-The-odore
!
My head seemed to spin round like a teetotum,
and so I imagine did those of others, but a glawfe
tlnwitU the mocking! words which followed, e?:-
piamea me whole mystery r .
1 say, Mr. Chuton,- the idiot has spoiled y.o"ur
wedding for you, and wormed out your secret over
the market. Did'n.tyou ever know, sir, or had you
forgot, that in the long run the knave is no match
even"for a fool !'
What thorough Ir sane brain could have hit upon
and successfully carried through such an audacious
ruse?. When we had time to look about us a little
calmly, Churston we found had slunk off, and pre
sently Joel sidling up to me, said in a whisper, as
the excited ranny the oidy name I seem to know
her bv left the room with her child : "There 11 be
a chance for you yet, Master Holford, and you
won't forget,' will you that' kindness may some
times be repaid even by a poor half-crazy outcast,
such as I am ?"
There was a chance a blessed one, leading to
a day of which the joy-bells have never ceased to
ring out their musical gratulations in. one of the
happiest homes in al! broad England.
Kentucky regard for fair play.- In . the
year '38 I was travelling with a strolling theatrical
company, and arriving at a small town in Kentucky
it was resolved to treat the inhabitants to a bit of
the legitimate:' A. suitable place having been
secured, notices were stuck up informing the public
that on that evening would be pe; formed, by one
of the best theatrical companies in the Union, the
admired and popular drama of "William Tell, the
Heroic Swiss.
Night came, and the room was crowded by an
anxious audience, many of whom had never witness-'
ed a theatrical performance. The piece passed off
very well, eliciting much applause, and enlisting
the sympathies'of the audience jn behalf of Tell,' as
they took several occasions to cheer the patriot on.
V hen the shooting scene came, great excitement
was manifested among the group of the hardy
sons of Kentucky they began to think ' that, the
thing was real. At that moment when 1 fell re-
monstrates with Gesler for having picked out the
smallest apple, and the tyrant says :
" Take it as is : thy skill be greater if thou hit-
test it.
wbuM Tell renlies :
one chance to save mv 5ov I"
One of the group I have mentioned a hardy
saphng
who would measure full six feet two inches
in his stockings sprung upon the stage confront
ing Gesler, and shouted :
" Give him a fair chance ! I vow to snake it's
too mean to make him shoot his son ! 'spose I
let him shoot one of my, niggers ; or if that won't '
do, I,'ll let him have a crack at me, provided he
puts a pint cup on my head instead of that cussed ,
little apple !"
It is almost useless to add that this caused a
scene especially as three or four of the Kentuc
ian's friend jumped upon the stage to back him
and side with TelL
It took seme time to pacify and assure them
that it was a play.
" Well, stranger, we won't 6tand any foul play
in these diggins, and seein'as how it's only a show,
why, we'll step out," and the valiant Kentuckian,
as well as his friends, resumed their seats. JV. Y.
Dutchman .
May is considered an unfortunate marrying month.
An eastern editor says, that a girl was asked not
long since to tuuite herself in the silken tie to a
briijk lad, who named May in . his proposals. The
lady tenderly hinted that May was an unlucky
month, formarrying. "Well, make it June, then,"
honestly replied the swain, anxious to accommo
date. The damsel paus? d a moment, cast down Jjer
eyes, and said with attuib," Wouldn't April do as
well?" - - :'
WHOLE NO. 90
QUI
EHTES
Is it unj body's business,
If a gentleman should choose
To wait npon a lady,
If a lady don't refuse !
Or to speak a little plainer,-
That the meaning all may know,
Is it anybody's business,
,,If a lady Jiaa a tou
Is it anybody's buMioess
When that gentleman does call.
Or when he leaves that lady, .
Or if he leaves at all !
Or is it necessary
That the curtains should be drawn,
To save from further trouble
The outside lookers on ?
Is it anybody's business!
But the lady's, if her beau
Rides out with other ladies
. And doesn't let her know ?
Is it anybody's business
But the gentleman's, if she
Rides out with other ladies
Where he doesn't chance to be !
If a person's oa the side-walk,
Whether gireat or whether small,
Is it anybody's business
W here that person means to call?
Or if you see h person
- As he is calling anywhere,
Is it any of your business,
What his business may be there ?
The substance of our query,
'limply staled. Would be this; .
Is it anybody's, business
What another's business is! -
If it is, or if it isn't, ; t
. We would really, like to know,
For we are certain if it isn't,
There are some who make it so.
If it is, we'll join the rabble,
And " act the nobler part"
Of the tattlers and defamers
j Who throng the public mart; - .
But if riot, we'll act the teacher,
Until each mt-ddler learns
It were better for the future
To mind his own concerns.
"A little semi-pagan, who for the first time was
receiving some sort of religious instruction from a
female friend he was 'visiting,, found some difficulty
in'understanding that Sunday had anything re
markable in it over any other day. At last, by dint
of 'line upon line, and precept upon precept,1 he
was made to comprehend somewhat the sanctity of
the day.'
i Unfortunately, however, soon after he began to
understand things, coming from church one Sunday,
y t - . - r r i J ' T "p" "' '
acquired'Woral sense received terrible shocy, and
he entered into a very orthodox denunciation of
I the unconscious compounders of simples. 'But,' he
was told, 'the druggists must kep open on Sunday,
so that the sick people can get medicine.' '"Why!
do people get sick on Sunday?' 'Yes, just as on any
other day.' 'Well, good people dou't di- on Sunday,
do they. 'Cerrtainly!' 'How can . that be? Does
heaven keep open on Sunday?' It is needless to .say
that all futher grave conversation on the subject
wa impossible.
The Dog that Loved his Mistress. An amus
ing story is told of a ycung Parisian- artist, who
lately painted a portrait of a Duchess, with which
her friends were not satisfied declaring that it
-was totally unlike. The painter, however, was
convinced that he had succeeded admirably, and
proposed that the question of resemblance or no
resemblance be left to a little dog belonging to he
Duchess, which-was agreed to. Accordingly, the
picture was sent to the hotel of the lady the next
day, and a large party assembled to witness the
test. The dog was called in, and no sooner did he
see the portrait than, he sprang upon it, licked it
ail over, and showed every demonstration of the
greatest joy. The triumph of the painter was
complete, and all present insisted that the picture
had been retouched during the night ; which was
actually so the artist having rubbed it over with
a thin coating of lard J The dog's nose was
sharper than the critics' eye.
Hibernian Consolation.- Recently, a small
party of Patlanders obtained admission to the jail
at Durham, on a visit to their countryman, M'
Cormack, who had to take his trial on a charge of
murder. Having intimated to the prisoner that
they had collected a sufficient sum to retain counsel
for his defence, they were about to take their leave,
when one of the party, shaking the accused by the
hand, administered this truly Hibernian piece 'of
consolation : "Ah ! thin Martin, my boy, keep up
yer spirits ; it's no consequence whether ye'er hang
ed or transported, so long as ye get justice, done
yez." Poor Martin, unable to appreciate the fores
midst of which the comforters took their leave.
He was subsequently found guilty of manslaughter,
r,dn:enced to twelve months impnsonment.
A Good one. lbe ew-lork topiril 01 the
Times teils a good joke concerning a verdant limb
of the law, who resided upon Nanticoke Creek, and
in times of the absence of the pastor of the "district
meeting," acted as clerk. He had a strange way
of manufacturing. a word when at a loss for the right
one.. Well, upon a certain occasion, when he dee
med his services in request, he undertook to ''give
out a hymn," in which the word doxology occurred ;
but, as he couldn't get hold of jtbe'word.he requested
the congregation to sing " four verses and a sock
dologer" a
A Farmer's Wife in the Oldew Time. Sir
Antony Fitzherbeth, Chancellor to Henry VllL,
thus describes a model farmer's wife : "It is a
wy ve's occupation towinnoweall manner of cornes,
to make malte, to wash and ironyng, to make hay,
shere corne, and in time of nede to help her hus
band to fill the muckwayne or duDgcart, drive the
plough, load hay, corne, and such other. And to
go or ride to the market to sell butter, cheese,
egges, chekyns, capons, henspigs, geese, and all
maimer of comes."
A little miss about fourteen years of age, attend
ed a writing school, and had made considerable
proficiency in her chirography. The master set her
copies alphabetically, and a'ter finishing the word
"Union," which was given her, she artlessly looked
up in the face of her teacher, and inquired if he did
not think she would be able to make a pretty good
TNiotf in the course of a couple of .years I I ra
ther think you will,"" waa the reply.
-:
r
V.
    

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