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. .