_ ‘down on the door, drew up her knees, and em-

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Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, Wednesday, June 22, 1853.

I New Series. No. 44.

drank the water, and looked earnestly

. Bassiarvrs Gazette. "N 1

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07

linens roie’s OAIIN. can-. rifiuv. 0. ch t Th ' is ' ari .v _:.§rtiu ’.v'v?itlSi:?ilt”Rehi:?ly—Tti’ni’s Bible ,p‘iu—8assy’s Story—lnith and Despair. ;‘_‘I‘ the tears ofsut-Ii as were nppscaeed: . °' *".';;‘:..:‘. ‘.'i'.’I..‘li’.'.'..'.'°.f:.'.".°.’..‘...;'?:..'."’.‘.I.f.'.‘ thin the living which are yet ulivt-."—E«l. iv. I. 2- l.‘.'.‘.'.'-' ‘'''i.‘.‘.‘‘'‘‘'‘' ‘“‘l.tT.‘.’.‘.‘.‘i.’ “’°""““.”.i.“ s , in an 0 en room 0 e git-bo.Ii.se, among ' s of br en nI_l0hinery, lies of denipd cot ii, and other rubbish which had there accumulated. _ The night was damp and close, and the thick air swarint.-(I with inyriads of mo nitos, which incense the restless torture of is wounds; whilst a burning Illlllir-—I torture beyond all others-—Illsd p the uttermost measure of

physical angIa‘ieh.

" 0 good rd! Do look down-—give me the victory !—-give me the victory over all I" pray- ed r Tom, in his anguish.

footets entered the room behind him, and the ' t o a lantern fleshed on his a es.

“ he's there! Oh, for the Lor ‘s inaesy, please give me some water!"

The woman Cassy-—l'or it was she-set down her lantern, and, pouring water from a bottle. raised his head and gave him drink. Another and another cup were drained, with feverish

eagegiess.

_“ rink all e want," she said; “Iknew how it would It isn't the first time I've been out in the night, carrying water to such as you.‘

“Thank you, Missis," said Tom, when he had done drinking.

" ‘don't call me inissie ! I'm a miserable slave like your self--a lower one than you can ever be!‘ said she, bittcrl . “ But now," said she, go_ to the door, and dragging in a smell

Iliasse, over which she had spread linen clothe wet wit cold water, “ tr , my poor felhw, to roll yonrselfon to this.’

wounds and bruises, Tom was a long time in eegomplishiug this movement; but when done, ho\felta sensible relief from the cooling application to his wounds.

The woman, whom Ion practice with the vic- tims ofbrutality had inn c familiar with many healing erte, went on tornake manya licaticns to"I‘om’s wounds. by means of w c he was soott somewhat relelved.

"Now," said the woman, when she had raised his head on a roll of damaged cotton, which served for a pillow, " there's the best I oando for you,” _ _

‘hm thanked ha : ,and the woman, sitting

wit her arms, looked ilxedl behrn , with a bitter and painful expres- ' tenance. Her bonnet fell back, and long wev streams of black hair fell around

her sin r and melancholy ikce. no use, my poor fel ow," she broke out, atfiast : “ it's of no use,this ou’ve been ttying tt_'i do. You were a brave fe low—you he the rim on your side ; but it's all in vain, and out 9 s nestion, I‘ r you to struggle. You are il'e hands; he is theeti-ongesuand

‘<

yo rnuet vs u ." up. and had not human weakne and phytial a whi t before! ’l'om

‘niela hol I , ed to M :gedihsnt of” the Ie;opl,s.tit)'i.i—vvith which Is: rest

been I . hililnrdt 0130 2" hegroensd,"how can

"nit:-o"s no use calling on the l.ord—be yiefer hears ” ntidx woman, filly.‘ 'I‘l'i'ere -66! v '3 , ere e’s

edee aipinst vie.‘ Aofl goes sgnir.i,‘st us, van and eerthimlfiivgything is pushing us

. . II

‘,andeuddered atthe

into hell dei‘a.Idetic . "= stay?’ all the woman, "yea don’t absa .

no make an tssthYeI3t&,- ifI should only I seen and been kpowin to here—and We gg ' Did live with him’! 1 ti“ delicately bred! and hi

I-

lived with him these evefihflnt

you the first time they got a chance. They are of ‘cm as low and cruel to each other as there's :0 us: in your sul'sr- g t eni. ’

i

‘am cruel’! And ifl give out, I shall tused w, little by little, just li a ’em! No, no, miesis ! I've lost everythiug—wifc, and children, and home, and a kind ’r—-and

. me free, if he'd only livede I‘ve lost every thing in this world, and it's clean gone for ever—-and now Icevi‘¢ lose heaven, too : no, I cau‘t get to he wicked,

“ But it can't he that the Lord will lay sin

to

charge it to us, when we're forced to it ; He'll it to them that drove us to it.”

: “ but that won't keep us

hearted as t at ar Sambo, and as wicked, it “II. I0 won't make much odds to me how I come to; it's the Lain‘ so—tbat ar‘s what I'm a dreadin’."

The woman fixed a wild and startled look on Tom, as if a new thought had struck her ; and

. wit gl‘0tI::, she fell on the shed and writhing under the extremity of mental anguish.

There was is silence awhile, in which the breathing of both parties could be heard, when Tom iiiintly said, “Oh, please, missie 2"--—

’I‘lu- woman suddenly rose up, with her face oom posed to its usual stern, melancholy expres-

" Please, niiseis, I saw ‘em throw iuy coat in that or’ corner, and in m Bible—if misses would please get it for me.”

Cassy went and got it_. Tom opened at once passage, much worn, of_the e -of i

“ If mises would only be so good as read that er'—it’s better than water."

Cassy took the book with a drv, proud air, and looked over the passage. S e en aloud, in a soft voice, an with a bean of

uliar, that tone ing «flit? glory. Often, as she read, her voice fnltered, and sometimes failed her alto ther, when she would sto , with an ' posure, till she be mastered came to the touching words. " Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do,” she threw down the book, and, bury- her face in the heavy masses of her hair, she sobbed aloud, with a convulsive violence.

Tom was weeping also, and occasionally ut- a smothered ejaculation.

“ I we only could keep up to that ar’ !” said to come so naturalto him, ht so hard for't ! 0 Lord, Lord Jesus, do help us I"

“ Misses," said Tom, aftera while, "I can rquite ‘have me in every- thing : but there's one thing misses might learn

sa

sides against us because he lets us be ’bnsed and knocked round; but ye see what come on his own Son—the blessed Lord ofGlory. Wa’n't he sl’eys poor! and have we, an on us, yet come so low as he come I The L0 han’t for t us-I'm ssrtan o’ that ar’. If we eufir w Him, we shall also reign, Scripture mys; but ifwo deny Him, He also will on us. hey all sufiei-—tlie Lord and all His! It tells ow they were stoned and eawn asunder and wandered about in sheepskins and tekhi and was destitute. afllicted, tornien . 8u£r- in‘ en’t no reason to make us think the Lord's us; but jest the contrary, if we Id on to hint, and doesn't vs up to sin." But wli does He put us ere we can't help but sin! said the woman.

w seen all their doings; I can’t bear all they'll bringyou to—-and they'll

t at last . ." said Tom, “ youucilltakecare ofmysonli 0Lord, 0 Lord !—don‘t letme give on . ’

“ 0, dear," said Cassy, “ I've heard all this crying and preyin before ; and yet they've been broken down and rought under. ’l'here’s Im- g to hold on, and yoa’re n biit wha use! You must give up, orbs

“ We I, then, I will die!" said Tom. “Spin it out as long as they can, they can't help m dying some time !-and after that, they can t more. I'm clar! I'm set! I I-note the I.crd'll help me, and bring me through-"

The women did not answer; she sat with her black eyes intently fixed on the door.

" Ma heit’s the we ,” shemurmnred to her» at those thstliane given up, there's no

grow loathsome, till we loath ourselves! And we don't dare to kill car- no

girl now--just as old as was. You see me now," she said, speaking to Turn very rapidly‘, " see what I am. Well, I was brou t up luxury. 'I'he ilretlreniembarle la ngoaboat, hen I was a child, in‘ eplendd per iirs-- whsal was kept dressed up likes doll and ,compeuy and visitors need to praise nie. 'I‘hsre ' fromtlio saloon windows;

II“ VI! lie.‘ gig is he‘? Ald yIfI'Vs ‘ ynhi e-and-gcceek. under I

W liartsemcasie . hineral. He died very suddenly, and wha the

ropsry same to D settled,~tliey aid that In hokonlnven of the rty. Ives fibrin In it. My

my Ides had always to est me tree, but he Ed-net-dtneit, and so I was sstdown in the IK. I'd cl“ neve thnfis

..'a°i§l’”i'I,"'e2§i.'.."'..'2§ I"‘.'.'.'ii ""

bee doleee cases in New Ii-leans. -hflesl my theft wtfifijev

children, and went up to her father's plantation. I thou t they treated me sbsugely, but didn't

now. here waea young hwyer whom they left to settle the business; and he came every day, and was about the house, and spoke very po itely to me. He brought with him one day a oung man, whom I thought the handeoiuest I had ever seen. I shall never forget that eve- ning ; I walked with him in the garden._ [was lonesome and full of sorrow, and he was so kind and gentle to me ; and he told me, that ho had seen me before I went to the convent, and that he had loved me a rent while, and that he would be m friend an protecotr. in short, though he idn‘t tell me, he had paid two thou- sand dollars for me, and I was his property. I became his willingly, for I loved him. Lo- ved!” eeid the woman, stop iug, -‘ Oh, how I didlove that man! How I eve him now, and always shall while I brfltlial lie was so beauti- 'gh, sonohlo! lie pltt me into a beauti- ful house, with servants. lmreeii, and carria s, and furniture, and dream.-s. Eierythiiig t at money could buy he gave me: but I didn‘t set any value on all that, I only cared for him. loved him better than ni (iod and my own soul ; and, ifl tried, Icoul n't do any other way from what he wanted me to .

“I Wllllbtl only one thin I did wgnt him to marry me. I thought if fie—love«l me as he said he did, and if I was vvlnt lll‘ accused to think Iwas, he would be willin to marry me and set me free. But he convince me that it would be impossible; and he told me that if we were only aithful to each other, It was marriage before God. If that is true} waen’t I that man's wife.’ Wasn't I faithful I ‘or seven years didn't I study every look and motion, and only live and breathe to please him. lie had the yellow fever, and for twenty days and nights I watched with him—I alone, and gave him all his medicine, and did everything I‘

d Torn, “what made

women; “He won't

If I get to be as hard-

I-w

on ‘s k the truth! Oh

coat- at is my

or him: and then he called me his good angel, and said I'd saved his life. We lied two beautiful children. The first was a boy, and we called him Henry ; he was the image of his father-—he had such beautiffil eyes, such is forehead, and his hair hung all in curls around it—nnd lie bud all his father's s irit, and his talent to--. Little Elise, he said, ooked like me. lie used to tell me that I was the most beautiful vv.-nuin in Louisi- snna, he was so proud of me and tlw children. need to love to have me dress tlwin up. and take them and me about in an open carriage. and bear the remarks that people would make on us . and be used to till my ears constantly with the fine thin that were said in priiisc of me and the chi] reu. Oh, those were happy da s! I thought I was as happy as any one could be; but then there came evil times. lie had a cousin come to New Orleans who was his r- tienlar ii-iend—he thought all the world of lllm ; but from the first time I saw him, I couldn‘t tell why, I dreaded him, for I felt sure he was going to bring misery on us. Ilc got llciiry to going out with him, and often he would not come home nights till two or three co'lock. I did not dare say sword; forlienry was so high- epirited, I was afraid to. lie got him in the

min houses; and he was one of the sort t w on he oncegot a ing there. there was no holding back. nd on ie introduced him to another lady, and I saw soon that his heart was ne from me. He nevcr told me, butl sew t—I knew it day after day. I felt my heart breakin , but I could not say a word I the to buy me and the chil- dren offlsnr , to clear on‘ his gambling debts, which stood the way of his marrying as ho wished—and he sold as. He Id me one day tht he had business in the country, and should be gone two or three weeks. He spoke kinder than usual, and said he should come back; but it didn't deceive me ; I knew that the time had come; I was just like one turned into stone; I couldn't ak nor shed a tear. He kissed me and kisse the children a good many times, and went out. I saw him get on his horse, and I watched him till he was quite out of si ht; and then I‘ fell‘ down and iiiinted.

“ be earns, the cursed wretch! he came

in by whose stripes

dtook

if

Didn't

it," mid To

to e possession. He told me that ho had

bought me and m children, and showed me the

parses. leur him before God, and told him ' dis secnsr than live with him.

" ‘Just as you pl ’ said he; ‘ but if you don't behave reasonably ll sell both the children, where you shell never see them again.’ He told me that he always had meant to have me, from the lint time he saw me ; and that he had drawn Henry on, and got him in debt. on purpose to make him willing to sell me. That he oi him in love with another woman; and that might know, after all that, that he should not give up for a few sire and tears, and things of that sort.

ve p. for my hands were tied. He had

in 0l|:t‘Il’Ql'I; whenever lrceisied his will any- where. he would talk about selling them, and be madame aseubniissivs as he desired. Oh, what slife it was! to live with my heart breaking, every day-—-to keep on, on, on, loving, when it was only misery - and to be bound, body and soul loose I hated. I used to love to read to Henry. lopls to him, to walls with, him, and sing to him; but everything I did for this one was a per- fsst drag--yet I was afraid to rsfueesnyiliing. was very ivapeiious and harsh to the children. wsn‘a timid little thing; but Henry was

bold and high spirited, like his runner, and he had never been brought under in the least-by any one. its waI always Iadiag fault, and qssfrcllng with him; sad I used is live in daily dread. I tried to the child , , fnl-I tried to keep them apart, for I held as is those children like death; but it did as geed. & sold tetlithpecclildrcn. Hstosk ls'to,rlds one day, and wheel came

sold them; he showed no the money, the of that bleed. Thea it seemed as if all foreeok me. I raved and ciireen—eu dad and man; aisI,gi:s while I bslisvehe really ‘M dime. hedidifi ivegp t ‘ were so _ t is i 'iafl.:geisJe V as ' ‘ ., I saisri _ "uylhiy pith a woman wkssysl. aeeheeektldees-‘lactate-est!» ‘til 3'3." "' ":""‘...u" w . . as as l:t'==wed at sea he

We live in Ilth and

' no hope !--his

d brothers ind sisters. here I leaned niedc

mu about it.

he he-at-ennui

was out walking, sad passed by the eelsbsoae; I saw scruwd ebosi the gate,'nnd heard a child's voice—nad suddenly my Henry broke away from two or three men who were holding him, and sea, screaming, and caught my dress. They came up to him. swearing dreadfully : and one man, whose face I ehafl never forget, told him that he wouldn't get away so; that he was going with him into the the enlaheoee, and he'd get a lesson there he'd never forget. I tried to beg end pleed—tbey only laughed ; the poor boy screamed and lookedmio my face, and held on to me, until. in tr.-nring him off, they tore the skirt ofiny dress hnlfnwny : and they carried him in, screaming ‘Mother ! mother ! mother ! ’ There was one man stood there seein- cd to pity me. I ofl‘ered him all the money I had if he'd only interfere. He shook his head, and said that the men said the boy had been impudeni and disobedieut, ever since he bought him : that he was going to break him in. cries for I turned and ran; and every step of the way I thought I heard him scream. I got into the house, and all out out of breath to the parlour, where I found Butler. I told him, and begged him to go and interfere. He only laughed, and told me the boy had got his deserts. He’d got to be broken in—ihe sooner the better ; ‘ What did I expect! ’ he asked.

“ It seemed to Inc something in my head snap- ped si that moment. I felt my head dizzy and furious. I rehieniher seeing a great sharp bowie- knife on the table; I remember something about catching it, and flying upon him! and lben all grew dark, and I did'nt know any niore—-not for days and days.

" When I came to myself. I was in a nine room but not mine. An old black woman tended me ; and e doctor came to see me, and there was a great deal of care taken of me. Alter a while I found that he had gone aivuy and left me at this house to he sold ; and that's why ihev took such pains with me.

“I didn't mean In get well. and hoped I shouldn't; but, in spile of me, the fever went all‘, and lgiew healthy, and finally got up. Then they made me dress up every day; and gentlemen used to come in and stand and smoke their cigars, and look at me, and ask questions, and debate my price. I we! so gloomy and silent ilisi none of them wanted me. They threatened to whip me il'.l waea’: gayer, and didn't take some pains to make myself agreeable. Al len ih, one day, came a gentleman named Stuart. file secmeil to have some feeling for me; he saw that something dreadlul was on my heart, and he came to see me alone a great man times, and finally persuaded me to tell him. e bought me at last, and pro- miscd to do all he could to find and buy back my children. He went to the hotel where m_v Henry was ; they told him he had been sold to a planter up on Pearl River ; that was the last that I ever heard. Then he found where my daugliicr was: an old woman was keeping her. He olfered an immense sum for her, but they would not sell her. Butler found out that it was for me he wanted

grasp; the rose angry. and .2... to collect

her; and he sent ms word that lshould never have her. Captain Stuart was very kind to me ; he had a splendid plantation, and look me to_it. In the course of a year lhsd I son born. Oh! that child !—lio\v I loved it! How just like my poor Henry ilie little thing looked! But I had made up my niind—yce, I had, I would never again let a child live to grow up! I look the little fellow in my arms, when he was two weeks old, and kissed him and cried over him; and then Igsve him laudsnuln, and held him close to my bosom while he slept to death. How I mourned and cried over it! and who ever dreamed that it was anyihin but a mistake IIIII had made me give it the Iaudanuml but it's one of the few things that I'm glad of now. I am not sort to his day; he, at least, is out of pain. hat holler than death could I give him, poor child? After a while the jeholera came, and Captain Stuart died; everybody died that wenled to live: and l—I, though I went down to deaili'e door- ] lived.’ Then lival sold, and passed from hand to hand, till I grew faded and wrinkled, and I bed a fever; and then this wreich bought me, and brought me here—snd here I am "’