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About The Albany register. (Albany, Or.) 1868-18?? | View Entire Issue (May 28, 1875)
i'-1 cgistet. c o llTvan CLKVE. ALBANY, OREGON. .XL. DEAD. BY THOMAS BVtUnK BJW .lIW-,-yw r-aCT, The loom is cheerless, chill and dark; One candle on toe mantel placed. Within the grate a smouldering spark Oofi ooets too much want comes from mate. Yonder the pallet woos my frame; But slumber from my eyes baa fled, And Peter Garnett that's my name Sits, breathes, and yet the man is dead. I'm ninety-two but that's not old My hundredth year I yet might see; , They say I only lore my gold Why not t What else is left for me t I had a wife and children twain. Born ere my manhood had been sped; ; I had a friend ah, neTer again ! Wife, children, friend, they all are dead. There was my wife ah, let me see I married Mary Bond, yon know; . She died when I was thirty-three That's nearly sixty years ago. . . . Mary a blessed name they say The Magdalen had it we were wed How can one's self one's self betray 7 and yet she left me she is dead. friend I thought I had one gained, 1 ' In manner frank, in language fair; 1 learned that f riendahis might be feigned. That words were only stricken air. Be was my idol I had trust i In everything he did or said ; The idol shivered into dust feme day he did it he is dead. And children Helly, at my knee, 80 fair, so loving onld I fear : Bhe might be ever lost to me. Think on me less, be held less dear T Her husband was a boor a wretch; The love she sought grew hate instead; ; Ho child of hers survives to fetch Her features back and she is dead. My son a proper boy was John Made money he was born to thrive; Keen as his father -he is gone; Be died last year at sixty-five. Bichea were born of thrift and care ; My long life was his only dread ; And yet his father was his heir He never married ; he is dead. A wife ! why, that's my store of gold ; A friend 1 long rows of houses tall ; My children ! they're the lands I hold My riches have outlived them all. I hoard I have no heirs who'd strive To clip the old man's slender thread ; The wealth around me is alive. But he who scraped it up is dead. Harkt what's that noise? I surely dozed. Ah ! there's some bonds not put away Palsied my limbs yon chest not closed Some thief by chance this way might stray. The Are is out, my hand is numb; The candle flickers is that a tread ? "Who's there? Speak, stranger! are you dumb?" Jiothing. I cannot stir. All is dead. GRACE MORTIMER : OR, The Heroine of Sherwood Forest BY MAURICE SILTSGSBY. More than fifty years ago a farmer named Atwood, a widower and childless, resided on an extensive farm on the bor ders of Sherwood Forest, on the Not tingham road. His residence was iso lated, being two miles distant from any human habitation ; and he, though now on the verge of threescore years, was as hale and hearty, to all appearances, as the generality of men at forty. Inde pendently of this he was reputed wealthy, having constantly in his employ some three or four sturdy field laborers. At the time of his wife's death, and some two years preceding the incidents em bodied in our story, he had taken home to reside with him two orphan nieces from Shropshire, named Grace and Alice Mortimer. Grace Mortimer, the elder sister, was a young lady of handsome features and commanding figure ; every expression of her . face .bespoke intelligence, courage and decision of character: which last dualities were the admiration and boast of the kind old uncle, Farmer Atwood. Alice, on the contrary, though possessed of pleasant and agreeable features, was nevertheless shy and retiring, and in every other respect quite the reverse of her sister. 'The uncle, having in lease several hundred acres of land, had always been largely engaged in the raising and traffic of cattle, and on tne occasion oi lairs, whether at . Nottingham or at other market towns, was quite sure to be in at- , tendance with a larger number of fatted -cattle than any other dealer for miles around. On these occasions he usually required the services of his men to drive the herd, while he rode on before to the market town to look up and prepare his customers, leaving his nieces quite alone and unprotected at the farm-house. " Grace," he would say, " is equal to any emergency. She's got the tactics of ban hofficer, nan the courage of a squad of sodgers to the bargain I How far the uncle's opinion of the niece was correct will be shown in the course of the narrative. The farm, as I have said, bordered on the Nottingham side of Sherwood Forest, and at this time, as in the days of - Robin Hood and , his merry outlaws, it was infested by a band of reckless desperadoes, whose dar ing; exploits had. rendered them famous for leagues around, and whose cunning and stratagem had equally protected them from all attempts at detection on the part of the authorities. Up to this time Farmer Atwood had never been molested. He always kept a supply of fire-arms in the house, and when return ing from the market towns was usually accompanied by some of his farm la borers, who were always armed and ready .. for any emergency. ; :yz:. ,:v .. One morning, about two hours after dawn, the men had started for the fair, leaving the sisters, as usual, sole occu pants of . the house. Alice, who at this time was alone in the sitting-room, the elder sister being engaged in domestic duties in other parts of the house, was . suddenly startled by the rapping of some ' one at the hall door. She hastily arose, and casting a timid glance out of the - . wiiidowdiooveredanoid woman, coarse ly attired, standing alone on the steps. She remembered the precaution of her ancle never to admit a strange person into the house during his absence ; but ! the forlorn and weary aspect of the ap l&eant so excited her benevolence that he could not resist the impulse toad jnt the poor old creature to their hospi- Itles- So she hurried to the door, and nrning the key invited the old woman , to enter and rest herself, and partake of wne refreshments. The crone was pro iTV ack?"wiedgement8, and Alice, Kte80 "3Eng, hurried into the noban to acquaint her sister with what she had done. Grace upbraided her xtot only wife the improrie but the danger of adrmtog strangers, and would Ai crone, attracted by their oonversa m iaon, suddenly appeared in their midst. - x-aroon me, young 'omen," said the intruder, " but I scented a savory smell famished, it maun prove too tempting for an old "oman like me, wp a gripe ' the hungers, so i come in wT ye. . Oh. bel it was the bacon that I smelt !" ad ded the old woman, glancing at a flitch . jf pork suspended from a cross-beam overhead. "Gi me a slice o it, maun' it please"ye. young misses, wi a"cup of warm tea an a musm I And raisins; her bent form, she Tin- hooked the flitch of bacon, though it would weigh more than ten 'stones' weight, and laid it on the table, appar ently with as much ease as an ordinary woman would ' nave 'removed the same bulk in feathers. She next seized a carving-knife lying near at hand and oommenoed slicing , off , from, oiie end of. it toll she had obtained enough to fiU the annaoe 01 large gridiron, inmng tins operation, the sisters, who could not fail to observe the strength and masculine proportions of the crone, stood looking on with much alarm depicted on tneir features. " What shall we do ?" whispered Alice, sorely trembling with fright. Grace did not answer, but going to the old. woman offered to broil the bacon and prepare the muffins agreeably to her wish. .' ' Do you drink ale?" she inquired, turning again to the crone, and glancing in the direction of a gallon pitcher which stood temptingly displaying itself on the dresser. The restless eye of the old woman fol lowed hers till it rested on the bulky vessel, when she eagerly exclaimed: "I maun taste a drop o ale, young misses. Ale is werry 'olesome before eating, 'tis said. I'll take a drop an it please ye; just a drop, now, before eat- I ing." Grace took the pitcher from the dresser, and hurrying to the cellar, drew it about one-quarter full: returning, she handed it to the old woman, bidding her at the same time to drink all that she desired. The crone, eager for her pota tion, raised the pitcher to her lips with out ceremony, the mouth of which cov ered her eyes completely front observa tion, and began drinking with the greatest apparent relish. But what was the astonishment and terror of the younger sister when she beheld Grace seize the carving Knife, and quicker than thought draw it across the throat of the old woman, severing the head nearly from the trunk. The next moment, pale and trembling, with the bloody instru ment of death in her hand, she sank fainting to the floor within a few feet of where the old woman had fallen. Alice threw herself frantically by the side of her sister, and raising her head, almost screamed in terror. KJ ttrace, Grace ! what have you done? Why did you kill that poor old woman r The next moment Grace opened her eyes, and gazed wildly around her. "Don't blame me, Alice, for I killed him in self-defence? I killed him to save your life and mine. It is not an old woman, but a robber in disguise. I saw his coat sleeves when he took down the flitch of bacon, and knew in a moment that he came here for no good. Now, Alice, we must act with decision," added Grace, suddenly aroused to a sense of their peril, " or the rest of the gang will be upon us before we can barricade the doors. I am certain he is one of the Sherwood robbers, and there are more of them lurking at no great distance from the house awaiting the signal of their companion. We must barricade the doors this instant !" And springing to her feet, she bolted one after another, and with the assistance of Alice filled the spaces between them and the partitions with chests of drawers and other movable furniture, after which the heavy window shutters were closed and securely barred. The sisters then ascended to one of the front chambers, taking with them loaded musket, a brace of field pistols, and the carving knife which had just been used by the elder sister with such signal courage and presence of mind. Grace took up her position at the win dow, and watched for the besiegers with a palpitating heart. Scarcely an hoar elapsed before she discovered two horse men in the distance galloping in the direction of the house. " They are coming,'' she said turning to Alice, "and we must now resolve to meet them with unflinching hearts, and destroy them also, if necessary to our self-preservation, You must use the pistols, Alice, while I use the musket, and when I bid you fire you must fire at the nearest one, while I take aim at the farthest." : " While this advice was being given by the elder sister, the two horsemen had been rapidly approaching, and in a mo ment after they were 'both seen to wheel up into the yard. The foremost rode straight up to the farmhouse door and I gave three or four sharp raps thereon with the butt end of his riding-whip. Grace Mortimer raised the sash with a firm hand, for the danger and the dispo sition to sell her life dearly, now that the hour of peril had approached, gave her additional courage, and . she demanded in a resolute tone what the business of the intruder might be. "I am in search of an old woman who was seen to enter this door about two hours since. If there has been foul play in the matter we are determined to know it. Therefore I advise you to unbar your doors as speedily as possible, or we shall be under the disagreeable necessity of forcing them !" 5", : "It is useless to parley words with them" said Grace, speaking in a sup pressed whisper to Aline. " You take deliberate aim at the one who has just spoken, and I will bring down the other. Stand back a little is the shadow, Alice, so as not to be observed. , , Are you ready, dear sister! Keep up good courage, now, a steady hand, and fire !" A simultaneous report of the pistol and. musket was the only answer, and when the smoke cleared away from the window the sisters beheld the further horseman writhing upon the ground, while the nearest one, who had already wheeled back and remained standing some yards from the house, was apparently unin jured by the discharge of the pistol. Two of their enemies had fallen ; but vet the present was no fitting time for COngTatttiHtlons, lor tile ne hiwwhd uw remaining one, who was seemingly the leader, put spurs to his horse and dashed forward with fearful velocity in the diree tirm of the house. Before either of them was made aware of his intentions, he had leaped his horse high in the air, and vaulting from tne sauaie at me stune mo ment, had caught hold of the window frame of the cnamoer in wnicn tney were stationed, and was now striving with all the strength he could muster to raise himself still higher up and secure a firmer hold. With great presence of mind Grace caught up the carving-knife, for the second lime, and, raising it aloft, dealt the miscreant such a blow upon the wrist as caused him instantly to relax bis hold and sink down, uttering at the same time such terrible threats of vengeance' as would have caused many a brave heart to quake. , .,-. ' The assailant, - who could not fail to perceive the extent and danger of his wound, did not think proper to banter , words with the opposing foe, but seizing the bridle-rein of his . torse led him to where his fallen companion was lying, whom with much difficulty he succeeded in placing upon the crupper, and then 1 mounting himself' dashed madly off in rrr ..v ; i, v. . " .. thefdireiJtion Sherwood Jo?est, fol lowed closely by the well-train d steed of the' other. But no sooner were they gone, atitl the? imminent "periFssyer, than Grace sank down pale and" trembling, with scarcely strength enough left to cheer .and encourage Alice, who had slreadV fallen upow tt or morwdead than aiive, and wno was , now moaning i and sobbing with fright" - " ? A - 'iQiearn dear Alice," said, Gsacel than alive, and who was . now tu leagiu, wiuouig uer arm soothingly around the trembling form of her sister. " I think there is no longer any need of fear ; I have reason to think that all immediate danger is now over ; but O Alice, 'we have met with a most provi dential escape! Come, now, let us seat ourselves by the window and watch for the approach of some one who will ren der us such assistance and .aounsel as our strait demands." The sisters accordingly took their stand by the window, and after an hour's . 1 . 1. . - -I 1 - - - - . - " 'T anxious watching, they beheld two men approaching with a loaded, team. When they came opposite the lane, Grace shouted at the top of her voice, and asx soon as she attracted their attention, she eagerly beckoned them- to approach. The men left their horses and came for ward in answer to the appeal. In a few minutes the sisters succeeded in remov ing the barriers from one of the doors, and admitted the two men,' who were patiently awaiting them at the steps. The sisters soon made them acquainted with all that had happened, and the men volunteered to remain with them till such time as the uncle should return from the fair. They then adjourned to the kitchen and commenced a careful exam ination of the person of the brigand, whom they soon disrobed of his female apparel, finding underneath it a com plete suit of male attire. They also dis covered in his belt a brace of pistols, a dirk knife, a powder flask and pouch ; and in his pocket a purse of gold and silver coin, a robber's whistle, and a can teen of whisky. ; . . Some two hours after these discoveries were made Fanner Atwood and his men returned. They listened with the ut most astonishment to the story of the sisters, and when they had done the uncle ordered one of the men. to take a fresh horse from the stable and ride as quickly as possible to Nottingham, and make a full disclosure of the facts to the Chief of Police. He afterward rewarded the two men for their kindness in re maining with his nieces and protect ing tli em from further danger. About twelve o'clock the servant re turned, accompanied by a sheriff, two policeman, and the coroner of Notting ham. They soon arrived at the conclu sion, after a brief examination, that Grace Mortimer had acted only in self defence, and a verdict was rendered ac cordingly. The next morning the body of the brigand was removed from the house, and properly interred per order of the coroner. From this time forward Farmer At wood never suffered his nieces to remain behind on occasions of his visiting the fair, without leaving them a sufficient number of his men to insure their pro tection ; but of tener he took them with him, thereby rendering precaution doub ly sure. On one of these occasions, at Notting ham, Grace made the acquaintance of a dashing young silversmith; who pro fessed to be carrying on a large business in Manchester. He paid the most flat tering attentions to her during the two days they remained at the fair, and fin ally asked permission of the uncle to a j visit them at the farm; which proposi tion was tne more readily acceded to on account of some hints thrown out by him in regard to his own personal wealth and family influence. Agreeably to arrangements, some two or three weeks after this, . Mr. Joseph Pennington, such was the name given by the Manchester suitor, made his appear ance at the residence of Farmer Atwood, and was ' cordially received both by the old gentleman and his niece. ; During his stay he made rapid advancement in the confidence and esteem of the family, and used frequently to take long rambles with Grace through the adjacent coun try. On one of the occasions they had extended their walk to the very border of Sherwood Forest, .when, he turned suddenly upon her, .and with a terrible meaning ' flashing from his dark eyes, spoke as follows :(- : ; ! . . " Grace Mortimer, is it possible that I am so changed that you do not recognize me?" ... . Grace gazed up into his face with a vague expression of alarm, but made no direct answer to his appeal. ; -1 : 'XiOok at me, wretched girl ; ay, look at me well ! ' Look at this maimed arm, the. work of your own cunning hand 1" And rolling up his sleeve he displayed a frightful scar just above the wrist. ; In an instant the terrible truth flashed home -upon the - poor girl's mind, and with a cry of helpless . terror, such as might have awakened the pity of a fiend, she sank swooning at the brigand's feet. , Without using the least effort to restore her, to consciousness, he caught her in his arms and bore her, into the forest. When Grace recovered from her swoon, . she found herself in the midst of a riot ous company, in a low vaulted apart ment, lighted by a miserable oil lamp and a single wax taper.. The room was of ample dimensions, and seemed to have been partially dug from the solid' lime stone rock. ' 'Mf -'-"? "' . . It "was the ' shout ' of triumph which greeted her' entrance into the cave which first aroused her to .consciousness, and as she lay on the rude bundle of straw upon which the brigand chief had seen proper to place her (how ' different from her own quiet room at the farm-house), she could not fail to catch every word of the conversation which ensued. Grace, cast her eyes around her ' for a moment, just long -: enough to take ; in the ' sur rounding objects, and beheld on every band a heterogeneous collection of stolen Sroperty carelessly scattered about, her. a the center of the room six men were sitting around a table playing at cards, while her false lover, Pennington, was busily occupied in changing his fashion able garments for the coarser description worn by the robbers, j When he had completed ' the change in his toilet, he walked up to the table where the' men were seated, and said-:,-i ?a .,y.l7.s - .'. Come, my hearties, pour , us a glass, of brandy, for I j tell you I "am blessed near blowed in lugging that infernal she devil so far. M Who would have believed I could have trapped the cunning jade so easily ? I am infernally tired though; but for all that I am to-night the 'jolliest ; fellow in existence. There, pour us but another glass now the last one was only a priming;', :t!;-" : - V ':-..- A boisterous shout from the company followed this sally, ' and Grace trembled so violently that sue learea tne ruuuera might notice that she had recovered from her swoon. .. . " , a.' Come, . boys, we must prepare the stone crib for our lady guest," said Pen nington, taking up the taper and leading the way up a night of stone steps. " I shall suffer her to rest in quiet to night, but to-morrow-" - The rest of the sentence was drowned by the heavy tramp of ' ascending feet. In a few minutes Pennington descended, and taking his victim in his arms bore her up a rude flight of steps to the small room which he had designated as the " crib." Grace still feigned insensibil ity, and suffered herself to be borne to a heawof -trwin one corner- , "fNow, my men, said Jfenmngton, afteV relieving himself of his fair burden, and pointing to where she lay, " remem- . -r-a - ber that she is mine. Remember that I have periled my life for this hour; and remember, also, that if one of , you but dare as much as to touch the hem of her garments, you shall die like a dog; for I do so hate and love her at the same breath that I would seU my soul to be revenged upon the hand, other than mine, that dared to molest her. Is there one of you who will object to my decree ?" 1 " Not one, not one t Long live our Captain !" was the universal response. . They 'then passed out of the room, leaving the taper burning on the floor. Grace heard them lock and bar the door, and soon after pass down the steps. She then opened her eyes for the first time since her entrance into the " crib," and gazed eagerly about her. It was a small cell-like room in which she found her self, with a - stone floor, and stone all about her. A few old boxes were heaped up in one corner, and a musket and rusty saber lay not far removed from them. It was three or four ( hours be fore the sounds of revel beneath her ceased, and when in the silence and solitude of her narrow prison she noted the swiftly consurninsr taper grow fainter and fainter, till it finally expired altogether, leaving her in total darkness. It was a long time before she could ac custom herself to the change. At first she closed her eyes and tried to devise some method of escape. Bhe called to mind all the various accounts she had read of similar cases, and the usually al most remarkable escape of the innocent party, and she .began, in spite of her seemingly helpless situation, to enter tain some faint hopes of her being speed fly . relieved from her present confine ment. Once more she opened her eyes and strove to penetrate tne darkness, She raised ' herself to a sittinsr posture. and at that moment she detected for the first time a minute ray of light resting on her hand. She removed her hand. and all was again darkness ; 'she restored it again, and the welcome ray of light was stall there, one now became fully satisfied that the outer world was not verv far removed from her. She accord ingly, arose, trembling with fear lest her nope might prove a disappointment, and groped her way to where she had ob served the boxes before mentioned, and carefully removed them, one after an other, heaped them up so that by stand ing on them she could examine the aper ture from whence the lierht proceeded. On examination she discovered a sr.all opening in the rock overhead, of about a foot in diameter, upon which rested a flat stone, placed there no doubt to con ceal the aperture from observation. She strove to remove it with her hands, but the stone seemed firmly planted, and the sudden hope of escape which had just now animated her grew fainter and faint er. At length, in her almost frenzied en deavor, ner shoulder came partially in contact with the obstruction, and she felt it move move just enough to satify her. that it micrht still be moved further if she had the strength to do it. Tins gave her courage, and she recommenced her task with renewed vigor. Gradually the obstruction yielded, and she could now get her arm and t part of her shoulder through the open ing. Now was the moment of her triumph, for with one almost superhuman effort she succeeded in removing the barrier so far aside that she found no obstacle to her escape. Trembling with fright and exhaustion, she crept through the open apace, and, throwing herself on the bare rock above, her beautiful face upturned in tue clear autumn mooniierht. she fer vently thanked God for her unexpected ! deliverance. She next looked about her, and per ceived that she now stood on the summit of a vast ledge of limestone, with huge forest trees around her springing out of the mossy fissures of the rock. She was satisfied that the entrance to the cave was somewhere below, at no very great distance from where she stood. She ac cordingly crept along the surface of the ledge till she came to a spot where it sud denly terminated in an almost perpen dicular descent of some twenty or thirty feet, and was densely skirted by an al most ' impenetrable growth of under brush. In a moment she became satisfied in her own mind that the entrance to the cavern was just beneath her. Not far from this spot she also observed some thing which convinced her that she might be able at some future time to dis cover their retreat. It was a gigantic tree, with one 1 huge limb stripped en tirely of the bark. She. carefully noted its appearance, and the general disposi tion of things around her, after which she crept off in an opposite' direction, and 1 after : much difficulty succeeded, finally, in making her way through the forest till she came to a traveled road. It was then just in the gray of morning, and in a1 few minutes after she met a young peasant, who was bearing a bundle on his back, and whistling in high glee as he went. ."Is this the road to Not tingham ?" she inquired. ; " No, missus," answered the boy, star ing at her in stupid wonder, "'tother is the Nottmliam road, as comes second, after following the next one a long way to your right. , I . 'ope you ben't lost, young oman i ..',,. - "I hope not," said Grace, faintly, as she hurried along. In a few minutes she reached the turn of the roads, t It was not yet very light, and she found the road she must take would lead her once more in the direc tion of ' the forest. ' For some moments she stood, uncertain what course she had best : pursue, -when at length her atten tion , was arrested by the sound of ap proaching wheels, and she made up her mind to appeal to the person, whoever he might be, for protection. At length the team came up, and Grace accosted the driver. She stated in as few words as possible who she was and what had happened" to her, and begged him to conceal her if possible somewhere in his wagon, for fear that Pennington and his associates mitrht follow and overtake her. No sooner did the driver understand that sue was a niece of Farmer Atwood's than he asked her if she did not remember him. . " x uo, now r- cried uraoe, with a thrill of. pleasure. "You. are one of those' very persons who came to our re lief at the tune they attempted to rob my uncle's house." v , f The same" answered the driver ; and to own the truth,; I have thought of , you a" great many times since. : I should be a flat then, shouldn't I, see ing's my name is Sharp, to let you go all the way to- your ? uncle's house, on foot and alone, and like enough the Sherwood robbers on scent of you at the same time. No, that won't do, as long as I have got a double brace of- pistols all loaded in the box beneath me. No, young 'oman, I'll spill every drop of Hinglish blood in my veins but I'Q protect ye from the Sherwood robbers. So ye may as well clamber into the vehicle now as at an other time, and so give us an hopper t unity to conceal you-from conserva tion' - J Grace thanked theloquacious but kind-hearted driver, who now f8 her in mounting to the cart, the body of which was filled with a great number of boxes, baskets, and casks. A. whisky barrel, with one of the heads knocked in, seemed the only unoccupied thing in the wagon ; and Mr. Sharp, with an aptness worthy of the name of Sharp, hoisted it up with the remark that the bunghole was in the other end. "Now. vrainir 'oman. if V0U don t mind it. I'll iust cover you over with this wniBKy Darrei, so ll any one wm- " see the sound head witn tne oung oui, an' they'll think I'm iust taking it to the market to be filled. A pretty good idea, young "oman." Grace assented, and sunereu ner pro tector to place the empty barrel over her head. thnmninr it two or three times as he did so to be sure that it gave forth the right sound, after which he resumed his seat once more and drove on. He had not proceeded far, however, when he apprised Grace through the bunghole that two horsemen were in pursuit oi them, and that she must keep up a good heart and lay snug. In a few minutes the clatter of horse's hoofs was distinctly audible to her above the rumbling sound of the heavy vehicle. The next moment Bhe heard the strontr voice of Penning ton commanding the driver to halt. " By what right, an't please you, do you delay an honest man on tne King s querulous voice, as though nothing in the world had happened. "By the common no-lit, answered Pennincrton. " that one man has to make inquiry of another. We are officers, and in search of a young female pickpocket who has iust made ner escape from cus tody. Have you seen one on the road answering that description ? Remember we are officers, and you must conceal nothing from us." " Well, then, bein't you're hofficers," rejoined the driver, submissively, " I'll tell you all about it. There was a boy I met with a bundle " Verv cood. We nave iust Ques tioned the boy, who says he met her just before meeting you. iriease proceed. Well, then, twas only the boy met. I didn't see the young 'oman at all. an t please you. "Look here, my fine fellow, "cried the other, now speaking for the first time, " I believe vou are trvinar to Jew us. I believe you have got her concealed some where in your wagon. Suppose we search it, and by that means satisfy our selves r Oh, you can do that, an' welcome, answered the driver. "And as 1 m in a hurry to get onto Nottingham, I'll just assist you in doing it. " Very good ; we'll trouble you first to give us a peep into the box you are sit ting on. " I'll do it ; but I can tell you before hand you won't find nothing there but some parcels, an' my double brace of pistols, as I carries in self-defence. There, ben't you satisfied now ?" ' So far, we are ; but what have you got stowed away in your boxes there, and the baskets V " Oh, you can examine 'em !" said the driver. " I don't fancy you'll find 'em contraband. There's heggs in some, an' butter in others : fleece, an wepre tables. an' hother similar truck in all the rest of 'em. We'll look 'em over, an't please you." " Oh, no !" returned Pennington. " there is too much work in that. - But what have you got in that barrel?" he added, giving it a smart tap on the head with his riding-whip. , " An't please you," quickly returned thej driver, " it's a whisky barrel I am taking to market to oe niied. ' xi tne young 'oman be there, you are in search oi, she must nave got turougn tne bung'ole some'ow!" :' "I think if she was in there she would find her way out." answered Pennington, with a meaning laugh. " But evidently she has taken the other road, and as time passes, we must bid you a very good morning, Mr. Driver. And with this Pennington wheeled his horse and drove off with his companion, well satis tied that they had sold the driver, instead of being sold themselves, j The driver cracked up his horses, and began to whistle as though nothing had occurred. When the team reached the brow of the hill he stopped his horses with a sudden jerk, and clapping his hands to the barrel raised it up, and then pointing down into the valley, said: "See, Miss Mortimer, there be a host of men there, and Farmer Atwood at their head 1" With a thrill of joy she recognized her uncle, and springing to her feet before the driver could restrain her, waved her hand aloft, and shouted with all her strength. In a moment the people be low saw and heard . her, and a simulta neous shout went up from the valley. When they cam together, she told him in as few words as possible the story of her abduction and escape, and her friends eagerly forming themselves into a tri umphal procession, the cart being in the center, marched to the office of the mag istrate at Nottingham. Again the story was repeated; and, on being assured by her that she could guide them to the place, a young baronet, named Hapgood, who had taken much interest in the af fair, as well as in the handsome, vivacious face of our heroine, volunteered to lead a company of cavalry to the spot, if Grace would accompany him on a palfrey and point out the way. To this Grace assented, and about three hours later the cavalry started on . their expedition into the forest. They had but little difficulty in finding the cave, and still less in forcing an en trance, and arresting four of the gang who chanced to be within.. 'Among them they found a constitution and by-laws. with eight names attached to the docu ment. A dot of blood was prefixed to one, signifying that tne person had been murdered or dealt with foully. The four were immediately taken into custody and carried to Nottingham, while a guard was stationed around the cave to make prisoners of the , others on their return Pennington and " two of their number " not ' yet ! i:, having been taken. . They were trapped, however, that very night, and returned to Nottingham with their fellows in the morning to await their examination. Some weeks after this they were brought up before tne assizes, and on the testi mony of Grace and others they were duly condemned to transportation for life. ' From-this moment Graoe Mortimer was the rage and admiration of every one, even to tue noDiuty. one was petted by the old men, and toasted and flattered by the young : and if report be true she became the innocent cause of more than one duel among the chivalrous 'squires of the neighborhood. But when a few months later it was proclaimed she was to be the bride of the young baronet, Sir Andrew Hapgood, they had no further occasion to quarrel among themselves, and were rendered but too happy .by being present at their marriage fete, and witnessing the handsome dower f. which Farmer At wood bestowed upon his niece. As re gards Alice, in whom some of you, with out doubt, have taken a secondary inter est, I will just state, for the srratification of such,' that about three years later she j Decame the wife of a small rector, with a still smaller living. ' The Original of Colonel Sellers. . The Evansville (lad.) Courier says : " The Colonel Mulberry r Sellers in the play, although the same Sellers, is not Mulberry in - the1 novel. But when Clemens (Mark Twain) and Warner is sued their first edition of the Gilded Age,', they called him Eschol Sellers Colonel Eschol Sellers." Now this name is, with many of our citizens, a name of familiar. sound, as it belongs to an indi vidual actually in the flesh, who is well known to many readers of the Courier. The prototype of the renowned hero of the book is proprietor of a large coal mine and mineral lands on the Lower Ohio, below Shawneetown, 111.; in which enterprise Philadelphia capitalists, among whom ex-Secretary of the Navy Borie is most prominent;' are concerned with him. it is said that mark j. warn met mis gen tleman in the Fast somewhere, and from the pecularities of the man was induced to appropriate nis name, vvnen tne fact became known to Mr. Sellers, through the distribution of the first edition, he immediately went Fast and protested against the unauthorized use of his name, and the . authors were compelled to change the name so far as to substi tute Beriah for Eschol. and at a cost to them, it is said, of 815.000. as part of the second edition was then under way; and had. to be destroyed. No doubt the observing eve of the novelist must have detected much of that in the man Sellers which the Colonel Sellers in the book expresses so forcibly and aptly in the short and pithy sentence, xnere is millions in it 1' Mr. Sellers, of Sellers s Landing, is an inventor, and all the world knows that inventors are, and must be, idealists and enthusiasts. We, of the every-day. routine of life, can hardly appreciate the inner, feelings of the inventor and poet; and their vaga ries, to our dull eyes, seem but too often vain vaporings and . bubbles, while to them they are realities the children -of their brains of each one of which they feel justified in declaring to everybody seeking investment: 'There are mill ions in it.' A number of years ago Mr. Sellers erected a paper-mill in the knobs of Hardin county. 111., overlooking the Ohio river, opposite the town of Casey ville, Ky., built a small town, and estab lished a postoffice, and . called, the place Sellers's Landing. The paper-mill was built at great expense, after an invention of his own. The material out of which paper was to be made was cane, such as grows in the bottoms of the Mississippi river and its tributaries; and the cane, to make it fit for paper and to separate its fibre, was to be shot, as it were, out of big iron guns in" that mill, and there was to have been millions in it. But, alas! The mill has gone to decay, Ben Bolt,' and Sellers's Tending, like Stone's Landing in the book after failure of the Salt Lick and Pacific railroad, is desert ed, and grass grows in its mufl-paved streets. Mr. Sellers, however, is a man of culture and refinement. He is of old Quaker stock, and the name stands well in the city of Philadelphia." How Ladies' Handkerchief s Came Into "Style." A wart on Anne Boleyn's neck made a certain neck-lace fashionable; and now we are just told that Josephine's poor teeth introduced nice white handker chiefs to. the bcau-monde. A correspondent of the Paris American. Jieffixter writes : I have so often heard French persons criticise the unwilling ness of English and American ladies to name certain articles of ' the feminine toilet that I was delighted, a few days ago, in pursuing some chronicles to find out that it was possible for the French to be quite as prudish as we. Until the reign of the Empress Josephine a hand kerchief was thought in France so shock ing an object that a lady would never have dared to use it before eny one. The word, even, was carefully avoided in refined conversation. I doubt if even to-day French ' elegantes would carry handkerchiefs if the wife of Napoleon 1. had not given the signal for adopting them. The Empress Josephine, although really lovely, had ugly teeth. To con ceal them she was in the habit of carry ing small handkerchiefs adorned with costly laces, which she continually raised gracefully to her lips. Of course all the ladies of the court followed her example. and handkerchiefs nave rapidly become an important and costly part of the fem inine toilet; so much so that the price of a single handkerchief of the trousseau of the Duchess of .Edinburgh would make the fortune of a necessitous family. i? s, "h Conundrums. How did Queen Elizabeth take he pills? In cider. .At what time of day was Adam born A little before Eve. Why was Eve created f For. Adams .express vjompany. ' . Why is it better to be burned to death than to have your head cut off? Be cause a hot stake is better than a cold chop.! "... . .. What, is the longest word in the En glish language ? Smiles. Because there is a mile between the first and last letters. ' .. What is the difference between the death of a barber, and a sculptor? One curls up and dyes; the other makes faces and busts. Why should i be the happiest of all the vowels? Because it is in the center of" bliss, while e is in hell and all the others are in purgatory. What is the difference between a fool and a looking-glass? - The fool ' speaks without reflecting and the lookinc-rinss reflects without speaking. , . What is tiie difference between Noah's ark and a Mississippi flat-boat? One is made ; of, uopner wood and the other is made to go for wood. Poor spellers should not feel very bad about it. Andrew Jackson was a very poor speller. It was charged, among other orthographical 'peccadilloes, that Old Hickory began the word congress with a A. " It is trus," said Randolph, " Jackson cannot spelL The reason is that he ,was fighting the British while Webster .was . making spelling-books. Jackson cannot write because he was not taught. Nor can i Adams either write well. The reason is - that he was " not teachable. ' Jackson is ignorant, but he could have got over, it, if he had only had a chance. . Adams had a chance, but he was a natural born fool, and he never could get over it ' Randolph's reward was being sent as Minister to St. Peters A State-House on Fire. The janitor of the Qapitol at Des Moines recently discovered a small con flagration in the Representatives' Hall, happily in time to extinguish it, and thus save the State a loss of seventy or eighty thousand dollars.- This is the T6ur1dme1e" C&pitoriial "been on fire, and the State Begister gives $he follow ing account bf its previous 'harrow es capes from destruction j n "The first fire -took place in lew, and connected therewith was an incident, as providential as the conversation of the. geese that saved Borne. One evening distinguished member of the" House' was. seized with an irresistable desire, about, nine o'clock, to visit the scene of his. daily labors. SA6c6rdingly(;he wended, his way to the landing at the head of the. stairs, . tried the tdoorV !and found it locked. Then the desire became stronger. He did not suspect tayfhing wronff inside, nor. did he have., any particular busines there, but for . some unknown reason he thought he must .effect an en trance. While he-was studying over the . matter, another. Representative came on the Rtoitnd, and the two forced open tne door. They found .-the room filled with smoke and in ' front' Of the" stove was a hole, ! about two ? teef across, " burned through the matting and floor. The janitor, was a 'gentleman from Bohemia, and a worshipper at the sanne oi uam- brmu.Vf When ne nad rmisned ms tass. of sweeping and dusting it was his wont to Worship as aforesaid. After filling the stove fall of coaL and opening the door, on the night in question be repaired to the place where ALT. uambrmus was, and loaded up with, lager. , A- chunk, jof coal, noticing that the Speaker was, not pres ent to enforce order, tumbled down, and started a conflagration, - which the1 two wakeful Representatives extinguished. The third fire occurred in 1872, and in that stately apartment known as the Sen ate Chamber. ; The Senate was in session, and most of the members were awake. One Senator tradition says it was the one from the Madison county district stood by the stove, w-arming that part of his legislative anatomy turned up for . feet,, and smoking a cigar for his corns. When he . completed his fumigation he tossed the stub of bis cigar away, and hastened to his seat to vote on a bill for -settling the title to a ' huckleberry marsh on . Mount Washington. . Suddenly a commotion was heard and 'an ''alarm of fire was given, very mildly. The mat ting surrounding that Senatorial cigar stub was ablaze. The lames . were mounting upward at least half an inch when gome Senatorial brogan sat down on them like an elephant on a pissmire. The Capitol was saved." , A Persevering Author. Chambers' Journal says : "Some forty years ago, it is said, a lady called upon Mr. Longman, head of the pub lishing firm in Paternoster Row, and Ctded: Give me the subject of a k for which the world has a need, and I will write it for you.' "Mr. Longman asked: 'Are you an author?' " I am a poet, was the reply; but the world does not want poems.' t - . " The publisher remarked a little du biously: Well, we want a good cookery book! "'Then,' said the lady, 'you advise me to write a cookery book ? '"Cautiously the publisher rejoined, 'I, should advise you to do so, if I were confident of your ability to write a good one.' "'Well, years went by : and. during those years, cooks and epicures and housewives in all parts of England' were , besieged for recipes to be forwarded to the address of a certain lady. -The lady s own nattering letters Or. persuasive speech elicited from the cooks them selves the information required, or en listed the cooks' masters and mistresses l - a ii v uu i?r tuue ; huu mo result oi uer exer tions, carried on for, many years with equal resoluteness and good temper, was the Modern Cookery m ail iter li ranches, Enblished in 1845, which continues to old its place in the esteem of house wives.' Its author was Miss Acton, who derived from her one ''great work an adequate provision for the remainder of her life.' """ -' ' '4 . .?-.. ;.;. Benedict Arnold's Boyhood. An old proverb says, "The child is father of the man; and ' experience proves that the habits of early, years go with one tlirough life. Benedict Arnold , the only General in the American Revolution who disgraced his country. He had , a superior military talent, in domitable" "energy, and a courage equal to any emergency, iha capture of Bur-. goyne'sarmy was due more , to , Arnold than to Gates; and in- the fatal, expedi tion against Quebec, he showed rare powers of leadership. , Had his character been equal to his talents, he would havo won a - place oesiae . w asmngton and Green, inferior only to them in ability and achievements. "'-. But he began life badly, and it is net surprising that he ended it in disgrace. When a boy he was detested" for selfish ness and cruelty. He took delight in torturing insects and birds, that he might, watch their sufferings. He scattered pieces of glass and sharp tacks "On the floor of the shop ne tenaea, that the barefooted boys who visited it. might have sore and bleeding feet. The selfish cruelty of boyhood grew stronger in manhood. It went with him into the army. He was hated by the soldiers, and distrusted by the officers, in spite of his bravery, and at last became a trai tor to his country. . ' ' " - Hygiene of the Sewing Machine. Dr. A. K. Gardner, of New York, a. well-known practitioner, "who has made female diseases a specialty; gives it as his opinion, based upon many years'' study of sewing machines of all patterns, Ati . V Jnnanfmn ia fK.' -vr, . ..... t the nineteenth century, especially to woman, and that without any appreciable drawback. --He avers that no miurions effects whatever ore caused by it beyond the exhaustion which, is felt from this as from every overwork. Finding, he says, -no proof that physical disease originates - from, or eyen aggravated byihe use of the sewing machine, I am forced to believe that in the moderate use Of the muscles of the lower limbs the an&lorrv holds good in this as in every other f orm of labor, that use strengthens the organs -that, while the use of half the body is" not so conducive to health or to the equal development of the ehtir body, as if the whole frame were exercised, "it is -certainly better than no exercise at all, which falls to the lot of the confined hand-sewer. j , -;' t . Cemsnt Coffins vs. Wood. -Tim fecture of the Seine has at -nrpjumt-. m,. consideration a new invention' in connec tion with the burial of the dead namely, the substitution of cement eofiins for those made of wood. J The thictnesa of the shell would not exceed three-fourths of an inch, and they would cost about the same as very common material, and far less than oak. The corpse would, it is argued, be more perfectly preserved, and lor a longer period, and all raephitic exhalations would be prevented. .