+

eckly Honrnal

* This is truce Liberty, when I

Vol. \X.

‘'asharp cheery significance. My “ Madawaska Cariole,” a sleigh which is the perfection of Jocomotion, is not Jess per- fection than the fiery steeds, with their siuews of elastic steel, which I drive.

Driving sleigh-tandem is the easiest thing in the world, when you are used to it. YT wasa member of the * Tandem ub.” and reckoned a crack hand, of course. I exulted in ‘thy skill now, as [ bore my rosy companion flying through

Literature.

— teate

THE CANE-BOTTOMED CHAIR.

-_

ny W. M. THACKERAY.

—_—_——_—rr nN

In tatter’d old slippers that toast at the bars, And a ragged old jacket perfumed with cigars, Away from the world, and its toils and its cares, Tye a snug little kingdom up four pair of stairs.

barrel going off, and the sweet bells sang and chimed. “Oh! sweet echoes of far distant wedding bells,” I thought--and the crisp snow was split and shattered into diamond dust under the grinding of the hoofs and the attrition of the “ runners;” and with an exhiliration I could not repress, | gave a vigorous “ burrah !” which conveyed itself to Lota, wrapped ap in moose and bear-skins, and warm as toast. A sweet, girlish laugh echoed my exu'ting shout.

“ You appear to enjoy this, Mr. [arding!” she said.

“Tf I don't .” © Orick—crack !” filled up the hiatus.

lo mount to this revlm is a toil to be sure,

But the fire there is bright and the air rather pure ; And the view I behold on a sun shiny day,

Is grand throug the chimuey-tops over the way.

This snug little chamber is cramm’d in all nooks,

With worthless old nicknacks and silly old books,

And foolish old odds and foolish old ends,

Crack’d bargains from brokers, cheap k friends.

‘like down the steeps of heaven! The wily [thacan never “ raised” euch cattle when he cleared the stables of Rhesus Old armour, prints, pictures, pipes, china, (all erack’d) | of his horses!‘ Criek—erack!” and the horses neigh and Old riekety tables, and chairs broken back’d ; tess their arching necks, and the bells are chiming and tink- A swopenny Srossnty: terete hay 1 end me ling, and the mad, exulting rush uplifts one like wine. Ve I remark. to myself, that the sky has deepened into an intense, still darkening blue—darkening with a strange, un- earthly, tenebrious inkiness, betokening a coming snow-storm. ‘No matter—“ Windy-gap” is right ubead, and the welcome lights will blaze out of the casements soon, for the afternoon ig wearing.

On we yo—but I do not see them yet; and yet—but no —it’s all right !

No better divan need the Sultan require,

Than the creaking old sofa that basks by the fire; And tis wonderful, surely, what music you get, from the tickety, ramshackle, wheezy spines.

That praying rug came from a Turcoman's camp ; By Tiber once twinkled that brazen old lamp ; A Mameluke fierce yonder dagger has drawn :

"Tis a murderous knife to toast wuffins upon. ‘ yo : . ‘ turning to look at the rosy, exquisite face peeping forth with

Long, long through the hours, and the night, and the so much furtive coquetry from its encadrement of white i cosy furs.

“Ob! so comfortable,” she answered, with a nestling ‘movement, and a smile which made my heart leap joyously upward,

But my attention was called away to the creeping, crepus- cular inkiness of the sky. It was light, yet not day-light, but blue light—to coin a word; thet wintry hue of livid

'darkening steel always the precursor to a fierce change in ithe weather. This ouly made the long level plains of snow gleam with a lustre the more dazzling and intense. I re-

chimes, , flere i talk Af eld books, and old friends, and old times ;

‘As we sit in a fog made of rich Latakie, This chamber is pleasant to you, friend, and me.

But of all the cheap treasures that garnish my nest. There's one that I love and I cherish the best ;

For the finest of couches that’s padded with hair,

I never would change thee, my cane-bottom’d chair.

‘Tis a bandy-legg’d, high shouldered, worm-eaten seat, With a creaking old back, and twisted old feet ; But since the ‘air morning when Fanny sat there,

1 bless thee, and love thee, old cane-bottom’d chair. | Semen.

If chairs have but feeling in holding sach charms, “ honest as the akin between your brows;” as she was in fact) A thrill wast have passed through your wither'd vldarms!, —[ had never said “ dear Lota” before, and the words were I look’d, and [ long’d, and I wished in despair ; yet in mine ears like a sweet old burthen. T[ loved her with I wished inyself turned to a cane-bottom'd chair. all my heart and soul, but I had never told it. © [ yearned to tell her so now; but [ thought it scarcely fair—not up to the mark of my manhood—to take what seemed an ualair ‘A smile on her face, and a rose in ber bair, (advantage of the protection [ was supposed to extend over And she sate there and bloom’d in my cane-bottom‘d her. I magnanimously resolved to wait—choking down the ebair. words—but not for long. Meantime, “ Grick-—crack ! went the long whip, and stil] “ cling—eclang” went the chiming bells, and the borses held on with unabated pace and splendid vigour, but—where bad “ Windy-gip” gone to all this time, for tiuie was up, aud we should be there by this? * Goodness!” exclaimed Lota, all at once, “ how strange the sky looks; we shall have more snow—a heavy fall too.” « T tear so,”’ I replied, “but 2 importe, we'll soon be out

It was bat a moment she sate in this place, She'd a scarf on her neck, and a smile on her face!

And so I have valued my chair ever since,

Like the shrine of a saint, or the throne of a prince ; Saint Fanny, wy patroness swect, 1 deelare, : The queen of my heart and my cane-bottom d chair.

When the candles burn low, and the company’s gone, In the silence of night as I sit here alone — 1 sit here alone, but we yet are a pair—

My Fanny I see in wy cane-bottom’d chair. of it.”

: , “nda fe ceach a + We are very long, [ funey.” she continucl, reflectively ; | ot 2 pas’ d revisits my reom ; -" ° 2 z. : :

She eonse How Me par ae : \“ you have driven there quicker than this before, Yh,

She looks as she then did, all beauty and blow ; So smiling, eo tender, so fresh and so fair, A.d youder she sits in my cane-bottom'd chair.

Leaver!” she cried, with the suddenness of a revelation, ‘can we have lost the track ?”

The blank question harped with a horrible jar on my most vivid fears. Now or never was the time to be quite cool,

“ No, I think not,” [ replied, with assumed carelessness ; ‘we shall come to our landmark presently.”

* A clump of firs—an old mill, farther ou ; yes,” she added, “T recollect ; but we should have passed thew long ere this Oh, I fear we are Jost !” |

A cold chiil seized me as [ tactily admitted that she was in the right. J could not account for my error, if such was the case. L looked roind the horizon, but beheld no friendly sign; it was only a circle gathering closer, and growiug

: -y | darker the while. } , he fir-forests are clasped in a shadowy, ai : less country. . x ath! ar Suddenly my brave decr-hound lified up his head, and shostly slumber, Far away on our right are those pathiess | 7 te E . r,, uttered a low grow). The horses gave a startled swerve just | funeral groves where the wolves congregate io hundreds. To x . she Left haen @ 41das of Wills Mud Glue C0 the vider, which |=? SOOdesly.” A strange, lagubrioas, ‘Vat eppalling son? | is lock 1 up in the iron mauacles of the Winter King. | °*™° all at once from windward, wailing like a death-cry— | 1s locket , e x ' ie P ; . iowa cnheduhataO¥ 0 ite | atin, saline before us<-whither we are bound—orer |* prolonged, awful, groaning discordance—over the white waste, and plain, and clearing —lies a snug) y-sheltered village, the head-quarters of the * lumberer” aud the voyageur. Our destination is not quite so far. lait This said destination is a broad!y-spread, low-lying, farm-}°" | ‘ ‘ ‘ ore | « What is that?” as t shaddering whispe stead, with its almost namberless outhouses, consisting of | 7 vr + ae — Lota, in a shuddering whisper, 4 . * é & . sue I t . cattle-sheds and dairies, corn-stores, roofings for winter fod- |** i % a ‘ m oS der, woodestacks. and other concomitants surrounding the | ae dwelling, all pailisaded by zig-2ag Sonaets ANTONE: SAS | a And we do not go near the forest,” she said works to protect the comfortable citadel. Within it, warm | “— ae Gh aie as wii Ms : — fires blaze and sparkle from the huge aud odorous logs | ea . ~ - crackling on the broad, bounteous hearth. In the great|, “)° ae rl eed a. aaalan chamber, raftered and picturesque as an antiqae | Proke forth; clearcr—nearer, Lt increased; it multiplied ;

: : \ the horrib'e crescendo, howling, shrieking, aud ravening, was gothic hall, are warm hearts and flashing eyes. ? g, shrieking g, wa

-arded | : ur. Bear ‘not thatef the wind this time.

men and fair women are there—laughing matdens and strap- |. Nigieiful (lod 1” gasped Lita; “ The Wolves!” ping young hunters, who bave just shaken the snow off their | : : ; ote 7 teas furs at the portals. Despite the stern yet musica! barritone | of the snging wind, as it goes by, stinging cheeks, biting | noses into purple, and making tne blood tingle, shouts of © a nd ee an

: ace ger i ls t the game

; cree Rate thé % sf our {2g excursions, faced wy danger and played ou g

mirth and laughter rise above the boreal blasts; and ou a a ig ny Hn le de

‘ : 4s ieeulal » mnejc | Manfully. Jeaping sleigh. gliding—flying along rather—to the music’ An instant I was numb and dumb.

of the soft musical beils, is fast, fast approaching its terminus. | the wolves ! and Jota ! , «Im the mean time,” asks the®reader, “ who occupy this | ‘It was troqilimerer. The severity of the weather, the sleivh 7” 1 basten to answer. migration or 8 y of the animals on whom these unclean First, there was your bumble servant, the narrator, Dick | creat res preyed, had made their hunger a raging, devouring Harding by name, but a few months back from the banks of | madness. . Taney were encroaching on eivilised ter ritory, and the Isis, with the “ bar” in prospect, my “ governor” having | losing their usual characteristic and craven cowardice—were @ snug interest in the India Efouse. I add a few of my | approsehing the habitations of men, —s village and personal items. Rather good-looking ; a fair shot ; a stun- jsettlement. Woe to those in their path! ning “ stroke oar ;” can hit with wonderful vigour straight y | ge , ted out from the shoulder; am five-feet-ten and—growing ; can aera neigh of far, and I guided them—Leginning to recover play the fiddle, a game of pool, and bave the temper of an | myself—in an opposile direction, while * Terror,” my noble angel, I had been one of a party of venturous sportsmen, | hound, stood up with every fang bared. aud every hair erect, * going in” for something worthy of Alexander, and, with | Waiting for the enemy he had already scented.

fishingtackle, spears, and “ shooting-irons,” had done no in- |

-——o + a

HOW I TOLD MY LOVE.

BY EDWIN #. ROBERTS.

Oh, the glories of a sleigh ride in the sparkling, bracing air of a Canadian winter! The sky clear and exhilirating —keenly bright, but with a different degree of lucidity from that of a bright summer's day. Broad expanding plaius— the city receding behind us, as the horses, leaping onward to the music of their chiming bells, make for the broad, bound-

Theshorses halted tremblingly ; only the shivering twinkle gy y g

essence of literal, deadly horror might :nean.

own bod and picturesque fastnesses. | panting pursuers. Enoyh of myself. Now for my companions. /ealm. felt proud of her, though it was certain that if we Plac aux Dames therefore—for nestling by my side, | escaped not speedily the brutes would iua us down; and

wrapper up in rugs and warm furs, is Lota d’A:ville—a then, horror of horrors! what a fate for her!

bright-ged, rosy-lipped, laughing Canadian, as lovely a| [ had two rifles, a revolver, ammunition, a spear, and a

girl-wotan of seventeen as glance of man ever rested ccm-| wood hatchet in the sleigh. I conveyed my intention to Lota.

placenth upon. ‘The Canadian mother and the Freneh father |* Can you load these weapons with those cartridges ¢” I)

were express | in her name. Her playful lambent eyes had | asked. exercisd their sorcery upon me ere this; and the modula- tions 0 a voice unequalled for its low, soft sweetness, com-|a ‘ Manton” with true hunter’s skill. 1 took one rifle— pleted se young Syren’s triumph. ‘This by the way, for we looked back—the pack was increasing. I fired, and Lota

had exeanged no confidence as yet on a subject very near loaded ; aud one after another fell, to be devoured by their | reached a safe piace, and then ¢itner creep over aud shoot theology.

‘ravenous comrades; and stil! the horses sped on.

to my bart. We ere bound to a merry sleighing party at Windy-gap

curled t his great body at our feet, and aided to keep them | warm. [ hed known hor brother—a young officer in the | none but you! Canadia Riflee—had killed “ bar” at ihe * Salt-licks” with | bim ; bi met Lota and her family on board a St. Lawrence | echo them. You have my heart. Richard ” steamerind was now & t at their house, enjoying their | “ Ob, Lota! best beloved! what a moment to confess ; fravk a1 bounteous hospitality. and I kuow not if I feel pain or gladness most.” * Huah! Through the keen, sonorous air, sleizh oni » There are now no sccrets between us,” said Lota smiling ; | horses wand along! Cling—clang!” ge the chiming ,* take this rifle; give me—the pistol ; one kiss—syb! they | bells. Crick--crack !” goes the long-thonged whip, with{come, Save me from them at any cost,”

}

I tell you now. if | may never again.”

“Are you warm—quite snug, dear Lota?” said T, half| my Love.”

{ had never (familiarly as we had grown, and I was) J

\uf a gentleman, save that his face bore those hard eruel marks | which an observing man canuot mistake for anything but the ‘mind ye, my revolver is ready for ye, the moment you show | index to a villainous disposition.

| the | tenance was familiar, and 1 merely wished to know if I was ‘broad day light. ‘of the bells broke the death-silence that fell l.ke eclipse over | eyor acquainted with him.

“ Lt is the wind sighing, and dying away in | his identity. ‘the pine ferest,” [ answered. a “wy oie VT

‘Hark ! jalarm at one o’clock, I went to sleep.

Again the indeseribably hideous and lugubrious sound |

I never understood, till that moment, what the concentrated | I never ex- | perienced the shock before or since ; and I have, in my bunt. |

As the infernal | ‘howl! rose lingeringly again the horses darted away with a |

If my good horses had gone on so admirably at first, they man in my cart! eonsideable execution among the denizens of the Canadian | sped off now like arrows trom the bow, for the madness of | | felt puzzled.

woods ind sounding “ rapids,” and huuted the bear in his! fear added wings to their s;ced, as that of hunger did to our \taken this method to obtain a ride ; but I soon gave this up,) ~~ I was growing cool; Lota was pale but | for I kuew any decent wan would have asked me for a ride. |

* Yes,” was the answer; and she loaded a “ Faller” and | course he supposed I had some money with me.

The accursed things were, for all this, gaining ground. | Farm—stensibly to a hunt upon a vast seale, whieb accounts | Doubts, fears, bopee, tremblingly were at myheart as [ turued for mywo 1ifes and ammunition lying in the sleigh, and | to the sweet giri whose life or death were all in all to me, have seeu a great deal of the world, and [am preity cool for the oble deer-hound, the third « individual,” who had | aud said: \and clear headed under difficulty. “ Lota! if we die together, rememler that I love you— | amy resolution wus formed. jin the mud, and i knew | could slip off without noise. Kill mé'first,” she whispered ; “{ hear your words; 1} drew my revolver, [ never travel in that country without ose jsoner's soul. It follows very hard upon their conversion 5. | —L drew this, and baving twinéd the reins about the whip | usually in about a fortmghr.

of Politics, Literature, and

“yeeborn Men, having to advise the Public, may speak free.”---Euripides. pe z I

Charlottetown, Prince Edward stand, Tuesday, February 14, 1860,

its place by a bit of pive—-se that a slight force from within |

— — —— _~ I thought my ears would have split at their dreadful yells, could break it. My wheel wrench hung in a leath or bucket

| for they were now upon us, opening out to surround us; and ,thoagh the heroes held bravely on, I dreaded, every ‘ustant; ‘that sheer terror would paralyze them. — [t is scarcely pos- | it into the staple, the fron handle just sliding down. sible to conceive the unutterable horror that was circling us! ‘ Now L had him. My cart was almost new, made in a) both; young lovers with beating hearts, for ever, from that |stont frame of white oak, and made on purpose for hard ‘hour, interchanged with each other. I did not believe any ordinary man could break out.

| usage.

eae ecient ee et aaa

Alews.

—_ — $$ $$$ A A A NE ne Aen

AN Cw Se ries,---N 0. De

ed to the other world by the sword, or more slowly dismissed by the fire, of the finisher of the Imperial Roman law. Theve

on the side of the cart, and I quickly took it out and slipped _Temarks are suggested by the reported account of the execu*ion |of Charles Normington, at York, for the marder of Mr. Brongh-

ton, at Rounday, The murderer, a jad of 18, had battered av old man’s skull to pieces for the sake of what hs pockers might chance to contain ; an amount of booty which was com- prised in a watch. To deny to a ruffian, formed under such

| With lolling tongues, eyes of flame, hoarse, deep growls, | I got on to my cart noiselessly as I got off, and then urged | conditions, the hope that is conceded to those whose innocence

‘the air, and the whip went “ erick —erack !” Jike a double. | they had ceased to bay and howl; they were closing in upon | my horse on, still keeping my pistol handy. I knew that at | of crime may be due solely to more fortunate circumstances ,

‘us. I remarked one huge monster in advance of the rest ;| the distance of half a mile further [ should come to a good | would be unrensonable as well as uncharitable and presumptu - ‘his object evidently being to leap into the sleigh from bebind. | hard road, and so I allowed my horse to pick his own way | 0US: Out surely the less fuss that is made about his celestia}

'{ fired—and missed him! ‘The next moment his huge bulk | through the mad. About ten minutes after this I heard a ‘came scrambling over the back ; his paws were on me; his | motion in the cart, followed by a grinding noise, as though ‘fiery breath on my cheeks; and I éxpected, as I murmured |some heavy foree were being applied to the door. I said |® short prayer, to feel the fangs of the abhorrent brute in| nothing, but the idea struck me that the villain might judge imy flesh. A flash !—a craslt!—a gush of blood—and the! where I sat and shoot up through the top ef the cart at me, ‘creature tambled backward, shot through the throat, to the |so L sat down on the foot board.

spine, by my brave Lota! Then I plied hatchet, and split] ‘ Of course 1 knew now that my unexpected passenger iskull after skull, while the sleigh tore on; but I was giving |was a villain, for be must have been awake ever since |

|

around, and troops of dogs and hunters came swiftly to our |in this particular place, The thunping and pushing grew ‘aid, and—and we were saved. | louder and louder, and pretty soon [ heard a human voice.

| Providence had direeted the sleigh to “ Windy-gap;” owr| ‘* Let me out of this, he cried, and he yelled pretty firing reached the hearing of our friends, and brought them | loud.

out in hot haste to aid us, We were saved; and as I bore! ‘1 lifted up my head so as to muke him think I was sit- ‘her-fainting fornr into the hospitable hall, and clasped her|ting in my usual place, and then asked him what he was ‘tenderly to my breast, you may guess how sincere was the | doing there.

| gratitude I breathed to Heaven. | * Let me out, and [ will tell you,’ be replied.

| It was the prelude toa wedding, which occurred soon | €Tell me what you are in there for ? said 1. afterwards; and you may be sure [ never forgot my fight, “ ‘I got in bere tosleep on your rags,’ he auswered. ‘with the wolves, bow pluckily my noble Lota backed me, or, = **" How did you get in? L asked.

ithe somewhat original but apropos mode in which“ I Told) “* Let me out, or 1’ll shoot you through the head,’ he | yelled.

sheerertniaet ane | ‘Just at that moment my horse's feet struck the hard AN UNWELCOME PASSENGER. ‘road, and I knew that the rest of the route to Jackson would ea ‘be good going. The distance was twelve miles. I slipped | A cold winter’s night found a stage load of us gathered ' back on the foot boards and took the whip. I had the same ‘about the warm fire of a tavern bar-room in a new Kogland | horse that I’ve got now—a tall, stout, powerful bay mare— | village. Shortly after we arrived a pedlar drove up and ‘and you may believe there’s some go in her. ‘ordered that his horse should hes abled for the night. After she struck a gait that even astonished me,

nn ED DS = Be

| @xpectations the betier. Now, a great deal of unnecessary and tmischievous fuss of that kind is made in nearly every case in | which a murderer is hanged. The narratives of almost all ex- ,ecutions are alike, in reference to the devotional last dying Speeches and acts of the criminal. In the present instance we | are informed that “since his condemnation Normington has | uniformly manifested a proper demeanour, and showed signs of /a religious epirit, The state of mind which the religious in- | struction imparted to the culprit had produced was %pparenily

eepsakes from | What a pair of beauties! Phoebus Apollo never drove their | up all hope, and turuing round-—Oh, Heaven !—to spare my started, and nothing in the world but absolute villainy would | of a very satisfactory character, and he evinced great penitence ‘darling a nore hideous fate, when shots and shouts rang have caused him to remain quiet so long, and then start up|

ang earnestness in his last moments to prepare for death. At (9 oclock on Friday evening he asked one of the officers im charge to read to him the beautiful and touching Scripture | narrative of Joseph and his Brethren, after which he knelt down and appeared to be engaged in earnest prayer for forgiveness.” | Normington himself coud neither read nor write. What good can we corceive him to have proposed to himself in asking to | have read to him the story of Joseph and his Brethren? It is

very pathetic and touching, no doubt, but in what respect may. | it be supposed hkely particularly to interest a man who is gomy | to be hanged? It is quite easy to understand how a priest or | bishop of the early Church, on the eve of his martyrdom, might | find spiritual selace in a portion of the Bible not at all concern- |ing his personal predicament; but we must be allowed to question the ability of a penitent murderer, uninstructed im

everything but religion, and the eatechumen of a fortnight only } as to that, to derive unaffected pleasure or consolation either | from the mere abstract natural beauty or the mystical teaching }of Holy Writ. Subsequently, we find the prisoner asking to have read to hin the loih chap. of Luke, ** containing,” as the _report informs us in a parenthesis, ** the beautifa! stories of the lost sheep and prodigal son.’? These, to be eure, were some-

} ’ i

At any rate} what to the purpose ; bat the reporter’s repetition of the word She had received ‘* beautiful’” in appheation to them, excites a suspicion that

‘we had eaten supper we repaired to the bar-room, and as | good mess of oats, the air was cool, and she felt like going. the ‘ satisfactory” mental state ascribed to the prisoner may

| Several anecdotes had been related, and finally the pedlar was ‘at a keen jump.

asked to give usa story, as meu of his profession were gene-| “* Finally he stopped, and in a few minutes came the re- | rally full of adventures and anecdotes, [le was a short, | port of a pistol—one—two—three—four, one right after the |

jevidence of great physical strength. He gave his name as | been on my seat, one of those balls if not two of them would Lemuel Viney, and his home was in Dover, New Hampshire. | have gone through me. I popped up my head again and | | ‘ Well, gentlemen,” he commenced, knocking the ashes gave a yell, and then | said~* O, God save me, I’m a dead! from his pipe-and putting it in his pocket, “ suppose [ tel! | man ! Then { made a shuffling noise as though [ were fall. | you ubout the last thing of any consequence that happened i ing off, and fiually settled down on the footboard again. I! tome? Yousce [| am now right from the far West, dnd | cow urged up the old mare by giving her an occasional poke ‘on my way home for winter quarters. It was about two With the butt of my whip stock, and she peeled it faster than’ months ago, one pleasant evening, that I pulled up at the | ever. door of a emall village tavera in Hancock County, Indiana.) “ Tie man called out to me twice more pretty soon after [ said it was pleasant—I meant it was very warm, but it this, and as ke got no reply he made some tremendous endea- | was cloudy and likely to be very dark. 1 went in and called | Vors to break the door open, and as this failed him, he made) for supper, and had my horse taken care of and after [ had iseveral attempts upon the top. But I had no fear of his) ‘eaten [ sat down in the bar-room. It began to rain about doing anything there, for the top of the eart is framed in| eizht o'clock, and it was awful dark out of doors. with dovetails, and each sleeper bolted to the posts with iron * Now, | wanted to be in Jackson carly the next morning, ibolts. L had made it so 1 could carry heavy loads there. | i fur | expected a load of goods there for me, which [ intended | By-and-bye, after all else had failed, the scamp cominenced | to dispose of on my way home. The moon would rise about (to scream whoa to the horse, and kept it up until he became | widuight, and [ koew if it did not rain, F could get along | «quite hoarse. All this time L kept perfectiy quiet, holding | very comfortably through the mudafter that. So I asked the | the reius firmly, and kept poking the beast with the stock. landlord if he coald not see that my horse was fed about| = “ We were not an hour in going that dizen miles—not a | |inidvight as [ wished to be off before two, Le expressed bit of it. 1 hadu’t much fear, perhaps | might tell the truth some surprise at this, ail esked me why I did not stop for and say that L had none, for L had a good. pistol, and more | breakfast. I told hia L had sold my Jast load about all out, than that, my passenger was safe; yet [ was glad when 1}

and that a new lot of goods waited fot me at Jackson, and | came to the flour barrel factory that stood at the edge of

L wantel to be there before the express again left in the Jackson village, aud in ten minutes more I hauled up is morning. ‘There was a number of people sitting round while front of the tavern, and found a couple ef meu in the barn

{ told this, but £ took but little notice of them; one only | ¢lzaning down come stage horses, arrested my attention. I had in my possession a smal) * Well, old feller,” said L, as L got down and went around | package of placards which I was to deliver to the Sheriff at ‘0 the back of the wagon, “ you bave had a good ride haven't |

| Jucksun, and they were notices for the detection of a noto- | ye?”

rious robber named Dick Hardhead. ‘The bills gave a de- «+« Who are you?’ he cried, and he kind of swore a little, scription of his person, and the man before me answered very | t00, as ke asked the question.

well to it. Iu fact it was perfect. He was a tail; well! “* Iam the man you tried to shoot,’ was my reply. formed man, rather slight in frame, and had the appearance; **' \Where am L? Let me out!’ he yelled. “« Look here, we’ve come toa safe stopping place, and yourself, Now lay quiet.’

“When f went to my chamber I asked the land!ord who| “ By this time the two hostlers had come up to see what that man was, describing the suspicious individual. He said | Was the matter, and I explained it all to them. After this he did not kuow him. He bad come there that afternoon, and | 1 got one of them to run and rout out the sheriff and tel! intended to leave the next day. The host asked why I) what [ believed L'd got forhim. The first streaks of day

gleaming snow; aud then it died away. | wished ta know, and I simply told him that (he man’s coan- light were just coming up, and in balf an hour it would be

In less than that time the sheriff came, | T resolved not to let the landlord |and two men with him. I told him the whole ina few| into the seeret, but to hurry on to Jackson, and there give words—exhidited the handbills [ had for hin, and then he} information to the sheriff, and perhaps he might reach the made for the cart. He told the chap inside who he was, |

jinn before the villain left, foa IL had no doubts with regard to and if be made the least resistance be’d be a dead man. Then |

‘

{ slipped the iron wrench out, and as I Jet the door down | “T bad an alarm watch, and having set it to give the/the fellow made a spring. I caught hia by the ancle and I was aroused at the | he came down on his face, and ina moment more the officers proper time, and immediately got up and dressed myself. had bim. 1t was now day light, and the momeut | saw the Wheo I reached the yard I found the clonds all passed away chay L recognised him. He was marehed off to the lock-up, ‘and the moon was shining brightly. The hostler was easily | aud 1 tofd the sheriaf L should remain in town ail day. aroused, and by two o’clock L was on the road. The mud) “ After breakfast the slieriff came down to the tavern and was deep and my borse could not travel very fast—yet it | told me that | had caught the very bird, and that if L would struck me that the beast made more work thau there was any remain until the next morning, L should have the reward of | need of, for the cart was nearly empty. ” l two hundred dollars which bad been offered.

“ However on we went, and in the course of half an hour \ * t lourd "7 goods all sale, paid the express agent fur’ { was clear of the village. Ata short distance ahead Jay a ora nS them from {ndianapolis, and then went to work md large tract of forest, mostly of great pines. The road led aor reat & ae em She bulles pane senate in| directly through this wood, and as near as [ could remember, | ibe tap of, ay velsioln gash as i edpoeted, x0 Duey wate’ oi the distance was twelve miles. Yet the moon was in the | line about live inches wpart, and had { been where I usually east, and as the road ran nearly west, L should have light (Sit, UO of the:n would have bit me somewbere about the | enough. I had entered the woods, and had gone about baif | Sma! of the, bask and paced epwerd, for they wore: set) a mile, wheu my wagon wheels settled with a bump aud jerk | wish a. danny sthage agents, Sab -to gene aeae benty inte a deep hole. 1 uttered an exclamation of astonishment, | °° . : . but that was not all. I beard another excla:nation from | ‘On the next morning the sheriff had called oo aud | amathiiepidcinged? |paid me two bundred dollars in gold, for he had made him- |

“ What could it be? T looked quickly around, but eou!d jae. f sure that he had got the villain. 1 afterwards found a/ see nothing. Yet [ knew that the sound tliat L heard was | os in the post cflice at t ortsmouth for we, from = sherifi | very close tome. As the hind wheels came up { felt some- of Hancock county, aud he informed me that Mr. Dick Hard: | thing besides the jerk of the liole. I beard something tumble |

bead is in prison for life.” . > od tap’ i from one side to the other of my wagou, and I could also | So ended the pedlur’s story, In the morning I had the, feel the jar occasioned by the movement. It was simply a}

curiosity to look at his cart, and found the four bullet holes! [knew this on the instaat just as he had told us, though they we:e now plugged up with | At first [ imagined some poor fellow had |’

Of course |?" al corks,

|My next idea was somebody bad got in to sleep; but this | passed away as quickly as it came, fur no man would have brokea into my cart fer that purpose. And that thought, | ‘gentlemen, opened my eyes. Whoever was in there had | broken in, “ My next thoughts were of Mr. Dick Hardhead. He ‘had heard me say that my load was all sold out, aed cf}

Gleanings from late Papers. —

MURDERERS.

/

The highest aspirations of the early, if not the primitive. | Christ.ans were directed to the crown of martyrdom. Death in| testimony to the faith was aa immediate pesiport to heaven. | The ery of © Christianos ad leonem!”’ may have been weicome | ik to the ears of saints who had been sinners, and who might 4 ppos ! u this be | orefer the claws of a beast of prey to those of a fiend, ‘The was right, for LT bad over two thousaud dollars. 1 also) pegular crown of martyrdom amy be regarded as an object in- ‘thought he meant to leave the cart when he supposed I bad | comparible wish the ideas of modern civilisation and reter.ued A species of that diadem is, however, still, even in| "All this passed through my mind | these Vrotestant British domimons, the prize of certain cand.-! ‘dates for celestial glory. hese are not saints in the aid eccle- | siastical sense of the term. Vhey die, indeed, bearing w iness | iv the truth after a fasmon; but their death is got the conre-, quence of apy act of faith which bas incurred the condemnation | Lo a very few moments of 4 heathen tribunal. itis, on the contrary, the peualty of | My horse was now knee dee» lv.olation of the sixth commandment, awarded by a Christian

| me, or knock me down. ‘by the time I bad got a rod from the hole. * Now, [ never wake it a point to brag of myself, but I

So 1! judge, who concludes bis sentence with a prayer for the pr-|

Its antecedents are, tiercture, | altogether different from those of the seif-saerfice of a Polycarp

stock, L carefully slipped down in the mud, and as the cart : : “ vra-Cypnan. Cutting a man’s throat, or beating his brains

passed on I Went behind it and examined the hasp. font, i quite another thing than refusing to bura a pine of |

Tae door of the cart lets down, and is fastened by 2 '| frankincense. teowever, the maityrs who are launched inte| hasp, which slips over @ staple, and is then secured by a pad- eeraity by the hands of Calcraft appear to enter upon that un-. lock. The padlock was gone, and the hosp was secured in| known state with all the confidence of those who were digpatch-_

soon as t-e ice was broken the conversation flowed freely. | In fifteen minutes we cleared the woods, and away we went |

The chap inside kept yelling to be let out. | misd rather more frequently than in awakening the mcral sense,

/or implanting any distinct ideas of theology.

have mainly consisted in that mandlin sentimentality which prison chaplains, perhaps, succeed in developing in the eriminaly

We can only hope for the best when we are told that on Saturday morning

. ; sth « ya sriig ividea re ire . ’ . | . . . : marked this, but with a momentarily divided and wavering | thick set man, samewhere about forty years of age, and gave. other, and I heard the balls whizz over my head. If IL bad) the clergyman again visited the criminal and remained with

him, imparting religious instruction. ‘To a certain extent the amount of Normingtcn’s spiritaal proficiency may be conjectu:- ed from two letters which he addressed to his parents by the lielp of an amanuensis. ‘The first of these epistles, sent to his

mother, thus commences :—** My dear mother, { send you these few lines, and ( sincerely hope they will find you in good

health, Lam glad to tell you that lem quite well, and my inind is qu.te easy, and Lassure you that I do not fear my fate for | put all my trust in the Lord Jesus Crist. In Hn I hope to fiod rest and pardon forall my sins.’’ Afier mere in the same stiein, the convict continues:—I can assure you I feet very happy in my mind; I hope and believe that I shall very soon be in eternal happiness and rest; for believe me, I fear nothing, trusting entirely in the Lord. [hope you will pray unto Him, and that you will be saved and ecjoy eternal hap- piness.”? The converted crim:nal turns preacher, and sermon- ises luis mother. Tle lectures his fa'her im terms quite author. tative. When Charles Normington tells bis mother that his “mind is quite easy” in the prospect of the qallame, e-dic~ plays a coutdence which exceeded the hope of a Semael John. son. The just man, who believes that he shall scarcely be saved, can hardly feei that assurance upon his death bed which the uurderer dec'ares himself to experience on the scaffold Does the laiter really experience any such thing? [as * the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns * not any terrors for him Is he sure that in that © sleep of life’ into which he will be plunged with a halter there will be none but pleasant dreams for bin? If so, the more secret his bliss- ful expectations are kept the betier, It is not for us to set bounds to that mercy of Heaven on which we must al! rel Yet it dves not seem politic to preach and tesch that the “Suin's’ Rest’ is secured by a condemned-cell repentince. if this is sound doctrine, and if itis to be held and prc claimed ihen abolish the gallows, “If to live as en ord-nary mortal is lose, and capital punishment is gain, do away with capital punishment or else carefully conceal the really advantagcons nature of that ugly looking infliction. ‘To send a crimnal