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*7 h“ All? Also. Licensed Auctioneer. s "Botmcnot, ’lthG STREET EAST, TORONTO. n. inanimate Eircctorg. M 'DRJJAMES LAN STAFF, ‘ Itichmmul Ilill. ‘IIIIO. 185'. gJ-wy. JOHN GRIEVE, CLERK THIRD DIVISION COURT. Office. Richmond Hill. lune. 1857. JOSEPH KELLER, AILIFF Second and Third DIVISION Court. Office. Richmond Hill. June. l357~ fi-l-Wy. G. A. BARNARD, MPORTER of British and American Dry I Goods. Groceries. Wines. Liquors. Oils, Paints. 6w.- 6m. Richmond Hill. June. 1817. g. l -wy. g- 1 'wy. P. CROSBY, ' nY GOODS. GROCEIUES. .AN v . -A‘ c- _.\. s»_.-/\.r/:, , D ,. _ :, Wines. Liquors. Ilardwnre.&c. . Richmond llilt, June. 1857. gJ-wy. VOL 1 A n J THOMAS SEDMAN. Carriage, “’aggon & Sleigh .M A K E R , Opposite the White Sivandiin. Richmond Hill. June 10. 1857. EJ'WY' sfiELSER & BOWMAN, Licensed Auctioneers! FOR THE TOWNSHIP!I 0! Markham & VVhitelitircli. RILEIDIHCES :â€"-Henry Smolsor. Laskay. King : Thos. Bowman. Alinira. Markham. October 15. 1857. 319-1 JAMES MCCLURE, NNKEEPER. Licensed Auctioneer for the Counties of York, Ontario and Simeoe. Corner of Yonge and Bradford streets, Holland Landing. November. 26. 1857. édmfimo \VIIO ARE THE FREE. Who are the Free ? They who have scorn’d the tyrant and his rod, And bow’d in worship unto none but God; They who have made the coiiquoror’s glory dimâ€" Uiichain’d in soul. though niatiacled in limb ; Unwarp’t by prejudice. iinawed by wrongâ€"- Friends of the weak. and fearless of the strong. Thoy who could change not with the chang- ing hour The self-Sumo man in peril and in power ; True to the law of iiglit. and warmly prone To grant another‘s as maintain their own ; Foes of oppression wheresoe’er it beâ€" These are the proudly free ! “'ho are the Great 'I 1 boy who have boldly vontur’d to explore Uiisoiinded seas. and lands unknown before ; Soar‘d on the wings of science. wide and farâ€" Measur’d the sun. and weigli’d each distant star ; Pierc’d the dark depths of ocean and-of earth. JOHN HARRINGTON, JR., “'0 Miles North of Richmond Hill, _ dealer in Dry Goods, Groceries, Wines. Liquors. llardware. Glass. Earthenware, September. 23. 1857. gIG-ly CALEB Lunroin), Saddle and Harness Maker, ’l‘llORNHlLL. Thornhill. Nov. 16. 1857. A“ A. GALLANOUGII, EALER in Groceries. \Viues and Liquors. Throttliill. C. W. Choice brands of Teas, Sugars and Coffees on hand. genuine as Imported. An assortment of Bread, Biscuit and Cakes. constantly on hand. Thorniiill. Sept. 25. l857. WELLINGTON HOTEL, And brought uncountcd wonders into birth ; Rt-pell’d tlie pestilence. rcstrain'd the storm. And given new beauty to the human form : “'akcn’d the voice ofroason, and unfurled The page oftruthfiil knowledge to the world, They who have toil'd and studied for mankind. Arous'd the slumberiiig virtue of the mindâ€"â€" Taught us a thousand blessings to createâ€" These are the nony Greatl g‘JAI-tf “'ho are the Wise 7 They who have govorii'd with a self-control Each wild and baneful passion of the soul : Curb'd the strong iinpiilne of all fierce desires. But kept alive atfection‘s purer fires. I‘hey who have pass’d the. labyrinth of life. “'ithout one hour of weakness or of strife; Prepared for each change of fortune to endure gl'l-li' TEAR the Railroad Station. Aurora. . p . Careful Hestlers always in allendnnce, lliimble. though richâ€"and dignified. though C. CASE. Pm” ‘ Proprietor Skill'd in the latent movements oftlie heartâ€" Jauuarv H. 1858. 132 Learn’d in the lore which Nature can tnipart; 'l‘enching that sweet philosophy aloud Which secs the “ silver lining” of the cloud . Looking for good in all beneath the skiesâ€" Theso are the triin ‘Vise ! MANSION IIOUSE, “ARON. Attctitive llosdors always in t attendances J. KAVANAGII. I’roprlt-tor. [3'3 “'hn are the Blest ? They who haro kept their sympathies awake. And scattor’d joy for iiioro than custom‘s sake ; Steadfast and tender in the hour of need : Gentle in thoughtâ€"benevolent in deed : \Niiuso looks have power to make dissonaion January l-t, la‘fifl. MESSRS. J. St W. BOYD, Barristers, &c., ' N0. 7, WELLINGTON BUILDlNGS. V A KING sr, TORONTO, June ‘20. l857. CLYDE ceaseâ€" “r'hosa smilrs are pleasant. and whose words are peat o. They who havo lit”d as harmless as the (lore. Teachers of truth and ministers oflove ; g.3-wy. HOTEL, Love for all moral power. all menial graceâ€" l.ove for the lininblcst ot the human raceâ€" Lovc for the tranquil joy that virtue bringsâ€" l.ove for the Giver of all goodly things ; TOOD Stabliiig and Attrittii'e [Iostlerx 1' JOHN MILLSQ l’roprietur _ Julio, l357- g.|ri\'.\‘. 'l'riie fol‘owt-ra of that soul-uniting plan Which Christ laid down to bless and govern man. [55, YORK STREET. They who can calmly linger at the Inuit. TORONTO, C. \V. 3’ Ill. MORRISON. Agent. Toronto. June l2th. 1857. Survey the future and recall the past ; And. with that. hope that triumphs over pain. Feel well assnr'd they have not liv'tl in vain : l- 'y. g “' Then wait in peace their hour of final matâ€" ‘ â€" ' â€"- ‘ ‘ , ‘ 7 These are the only Illcst ! ROBER 1‘ J. GRII‘ 1‘1 I II, ‘ LAG. Ilunner and Ornamental Painter, Elizabeth Street. Toronto.â€"Over \V. Grif- fith’s Grocery Store. I? Coats of Arms, mid every description 0 Herald Painting. executed with despiitclimnd a reasonable charges. June. 1857. >o< THE WAYFARERS. From the first pcep of dawn. I had been wandering on the banks of g.lwy. , , the Carra. a little sti‘camletin Corn- J. VERNnr, gout and Shoe Maker. PI’OSITE A. LAW'S. Yonge street. R icli- mend Ilill. Ladies’ and Goiitleineiis’ Boots and Shoes. made after the latest sly lcs. August 6. l857. wall, in pursuit of my favorite amusement, angling, and was only cmnpellcd to relinquish it, from the sky being without a cloud, and a summer sun pouring almost vorti- g9~6m. Cally his rays upon the waters, rcn- during their speckled tenants cau- tions to a fault, and myself languid and listless. 30] CHAS. POLLOCK, 03] M [‘0 [IT HR ofBrilisli, French German and American. Fancy and Staple Dry Goods. No. 80. City Buildings. King Street East. [Iposite St. Jaines' Cathedral. Toronto. C. \V Nov. 5. 1857. g22-t WILLIAM HARRISON, fiddle and Ilal'nt‘ss Maker, Next door to G. A. Barnard’s, Richmond Hill. g. l-wy, Ithci‘eforc, resolved, fora few hours to seek shelter at the nearest habitation, which, fortu- nately. at no great distance. pre- sented itself in the cottage ofa mil- ler. The scene was one Of peculiar beauty. partaking of a mixture of the sylvan and rugged features of nature, sueh only as are to be found in “ Merry England," and more June. 1857. JOHN COULTER, Tailor and Clothier, Yonge St.. Richmond Hill. especially in the counties of Corn. wall and Dcvonsliit‘c. ‘ lune. 1857. g.l-wr. GEORGE DODD, r - N \ eterinary burgeon- ' (Lot. 26. 4th Com, Viiuglian. ' HORSE 6; FARRIER" INN. the cottage, stood the mill ; those picturesque objects, almost in- HENRY SANDERSON, Veterinary Surgeon, AUCTIONEEK Corner of Yonge and Centre Streets, RICHMOND H ILL. limo. 1857. as frotn the ravages of time and tempest. The Carra, which swept swiftly g l.wy. J. N.REID, HYSICIAN & SURGEON Corner of Yonge and Centre Streets. leruhill. ‘ \ugust H. 1857. 2104f ROACH’S HOTEL, OIINICR. ofFront and George s'rccts. one block east of the Market, Toronto. after lost to the view in the bosom Ofa deep and verdant valley. As I reached this spot my notice was attracted to a group of sun JOHN ROACII. Proprietor. March Ii. 1353I tag ! l lthcir friend the terrier. At the, streamlct. Their iiabiliincnts wercl ‘ Poor mother died about a your upon his stall; his frame became ‘ while their whole wealth, apparent? ly consisted of a little can.ne com-j panion, that lay cozin couched bc- ’I‘o the opposite bank. one of the party had crossed, a bluff, and a ruddy looking twecn aboy and a girl. lad, who stretched at his full length: upon the mossy turf, with his head over the stream, was. in the palm of‘ his hand, gi'ccdily conveying the cool and sparkling waters to his lips, with a relish that never did bats-1 chanalian enjoy in the richest‘ draught drained from the ripest vine that ever bloomed beneath Itzilizi's‘I sky. My person being Observed by him he uttered a shout to his compan- ions, which was responded to by at short bark and surly growl. from same time, the youngest of the} party, a rosy checked and smiling] girl. about seven years Of age, came timorously towards me, and drop-i ping a courtesy. iii a bashful man- ner solicited my charity. Drawing from my pocket a small piece of silver, I held it up to her I view. Her deep blue eyes sparkled , with delight. and again courtesyingfi she extended her tiny hand in the hope that I would drop within its palm the coveted treasure; but I, was anxious to make her acquaint-l once a little farther, and still retain- ing the coin in my possession, I said. “ \Vhat is your name, my darling f” " Patty, good gentleman,” she rc- plicd in ti soft and silvery voice. i ‘ And the other little folks, are, they your fricnds'!’ Iconiinucd. l ‘Oh, no sir,’ she answered smil- ineg, ‘ they are only my brothers and sistcrs.’ ‘ ‘lndccd l’ I CXCluimcd. ‘ Oh, yes, Ilcre ! ch_ George, Mary !’ shouted the little! beauty, and waving licr bonnet for sir! them to approach, they did so in a meek and respectful manner, that at once bctokcned that they were not tlictutorcd Offspring Of the mendi- cant. ‘ And whither are you journcy-, l ing, my pretty ones 1' Little Pony looked enquirineg at bet sister Mary, the eldest of the, party. whose face became deeply» crimsoned, and her eyes filled with tears. Twice she cssaycd to speak, but utterance failed her. and her, answer only found its passage in at" deep drawn sigh. I kindly took her hand, and in: words of encouragement, repealed, my question. The poor girl by dc- gi'ecs mastered her grief. and in a melancholy voicc, repliedâ€" ‘Alas, sir, it is ditlicult to tell.” ‘ Where is your home, my pretty . one 'l’ I continued. ‘ The world, sirâ€"the wide ondi heartless world, sir, was her replyâ€" and she turned aside and wept bit- ‘Tlic little fellow was off like an ar- tei‘ly. , The grief of the girl gave great , pain to the others, who now clung closely around her, and by IllCll‘dl'f-l less endeurments, and affectionate1 words, endeavored to soothe and share her grief; even the little dog,, showed a feeling in the scene. and‘ Y0 ll’ TH OR lVITHOUT OFFENCE TO FRIENDS 012 FOES, RICHI‘IOND HILL, F ed intolligcncc Of father’s dcatli.’ ' And where did he die 1' ‘ In France, sir, on the plains of \Vatcrloo.’ My heart beat heavily in my bo- smn,â€"-â€"adimncss rose before my 0} 05â€"1 drew my hand across them; they were filled with tears. ‘ Bloodsstaincd Waterlooâ€"grave of two mighty nations#dreud altar of man’s ambition alas! how many' homes hast thou rendered desolate? how many widows and orphans hastl thou cast upon the cold and heart- lcss world ! ‘ But tell me have you no friends, â€"â€"no one to whom you can apply for support and protection I' ‘I have a grandfather, sir, but poor mother told me we had nothing! to hope from him.’ ‘ \IO! and wherefore l’ ‘ Because. it appears, she had .lis- obeyed his commands in marrying father. and he had driven her. for- cver, from his heart and homc.’ ‘ But,-n.y poor girl,’ I continued“ ‘ the human heart is not so callous as to be deaf to the appeals of its off-- spring; and you are assuredly the children of that Old man's blood. llc dare tint, refuse you.-â€"-. cannot. Where does he i'csidc ’l’ ‘ That is strange. Have you no remembrance Ofaught that ever fell ' from your mother’s lips, that can‘ lead to a clue of his discovery !’ ‘ None, sir ; I fear there remains for us now, no home but the work- house. My mother, my dear ino- Illet‘, let me again behold the grave, and I will pray to your blessed spi- rit that my heart may break beside it.’ And she fell almost fainting at my feet. At this moment a laughing, ruddy boy, came bounding from the mill- cr’s house towards us, with a basket tilled with his mother’s bounty, but the \Vafarcrs were too busily cm- ploycd in condoling with Mary, to observe his approach. ‘Gn child,’ I Said, taking the basket from his hand, ‘and tell your mother a strangcrdcsii'cs to see licr.’ row, and in a few minutes the dome stood bcfotc me. ‘My good woman. can you favor me, by affording food and shelter to these poor orphans that you see be- fore you, until the morning! I am willing to i'cmuncratc you for what- ever trouble they may Occasion, andâ€"J I was about to proceed in my rc- qucst, but she gave me a look that at mice showed I had mistaken liei' chai‘actcr, in mentioning it recom- pense for an act thospitality. I felt i‘cbukcd, and was about to stammei‘ out for an apology, but she gently waved her hand to forbid reply, and gazing affectionately upon the chil- dren, I saw that the fount of pity was SWclllng in her breast. ‘Such asl have, sir.’ she answer- ed ‘thcy are Welcome to. I am a parent myself, and God refuse me support, when I refuse assistance to the orphan and needy. ' Herc. Al- frcd.’ she cried to her little son, ‘ go BK BUNGG’ ‘ "<‘ «‘M“ I SKE TC'II RIDAY, MAY 28, tears that began to course i‘zipitlly‘ down his furrowcd face. I ‘ This gciitlmnnn,’ continued the2 good woman, ‘informs me they t'tl'C, orphansJ andâ€"~’ ‘ Then they are doubly welcomc,l damc,’ said the miller, interrupting her. “Come in my pretty onesâ€"j come in, wifcâ€"wc shall make this an1 idle day. Iliuve stopped the mill,l because there is no wind, and no more work shall be done. Neighbor IIOdgcs is the only one who wants his flour, and I know he has enough in his bin to last him till morning. I. shall rise with the lark, and got all! in readiness, and he trolled out the following verses that wclkin ring :â€" niade the t " The lurk in the morning as ho rises from his iitat. And me iiits to the sky will] the dew on his breast : ' Antl ho whistles and he sings to the jolly heart- cd swaiii. _ And at night he descends to his nest again." ‘Come in, come iiiâ€"a mug of :ilc. Jessie, our young friends must be thirsty 3’ and lifting up the little girl in his arms, and kissing her heartily, led the way to his dwelling. The old man remained. His head had fallen upon his breast, and his eyes were fixed intently upon a little locket, .which the girl had dropped, as the miller had caught her up in his arms. Twice he cssaycd to lift it,’but his strength failed, and he hung trembling above it. ‘Cau it be,’ he muttered to himself, ‘ can it be the Very bauble which my own hand placed upon the bosom of my daughter? No, no, she was un- worthy ofthe name. She forsook father. kindred. home, to \\'Ctl with the moi-of my hatred; and yet, I cannot be mistaken ; it is the same. ‘O God, these children; perhaps , they are The word was choked in its utterance, and be full' upon the tuif. The scene was observed by the party from the window of the cot- myâ€" tagc, and the miller and his wife came quicklv to his assistance. As they raised, one hand held with a‘ desperate grasp, thc locket, and with the other, he pointed towards the house. They were at a loss to comprehqu his meaning. till he eja- culated, ' The children, where are The! good damc last no time in CXCCUiItlgi thev 'lâ€"Uriiig them to nie.’ his wish. Scalctl on the ground, the Old man rcccivud thc W'nyfarcrs. ‘ Como near mc.’ said he, faintly. to the eldest. The girl shrunk hack‘l alarmed at the wild and anxious look be cast upon her. I ‘(Iome neui‘ inc, Isay !’ he i'c-,I pcutcd ; ‘ what fear you? I will not‘ harm you,â€"-â€"do you know this 'I’ bet continued, holding before her llicl locket ' Yt-s,’ cxulaimed the girl, it is my sister l’atty’s ; it was placed aroundI her neck by poor mother, oti the: evening of her (lcatli.’ t ‘ Your niotlicrâ€"â€"tc|l incâ€"-yi:t bcl certain-ado not deceive meâ€"-yttur; mother, she was c:illcd.-â€"â€" i ‘ Huntly. sir; Alice IIuntly !’ l The old man uttered a shriek, and ,mxrv ..« x 1’0 UR ll'OIt’, lof On a gentle acclivity, not for from ‘ your tearsâ€"t one 0f, in moâ€"perhaps I may be able to al- digenous, (ifI may be permifidkor the expression.) to this part of the} country, with its white sails, and' for mVselrI w - . . . - t rough conical bod). glow" gray I" see around mo,’ and she cl . ' - t the serum of genelallons. as WU” , latter to her breast, l round the base of the acclivity. af- 1 certain, but of age and strength suf. tcr shooting in a dire“ “"0 for a ficient to earn a subsistence ; but few yards. like a line of molten ail-, they, God bless “mm are helpless! ver, passed under a little bridge. (If; with a cold world before them, and ti rude stone arch may be so pom-l no pously designated.) and W115 Shortly ‘ guide their footsteps.' browned urchins, reporting on the privcd of your parents, my good soft greensward of the banks of the girl 1,‘ whincd, and leaped about the sot-itcll Jessie to prepare the dinner ;’ rowing wayfiircrs. ‘ Weep not, my poor girlâ€"dry up akc comfortâ€"confide and assisting to raise the unhappy girl we proceeded to the house. As '; we approached its porch, a man, the snows of whose head told he had leviatc, if not entirely relieve your. l'0\\'s’ Icheei‘ingly replied, ‘Heaven bless you. sir ; it is not numbered more years than are usu- ally allotted to the span ofhumtinity, come forth to receive us, and at the same time the jelly miller having stopped his mill, joined the party. ‘Look, husband,’ said the wife, 'I have brought a few friends to dinner with usâ€"I am certain you will bid ccp, but for those you aspcd the covering her rosy and innocent face with kisses. ‘It is for these sir,’ she continued, . - , , . . that I sorrow. I am young. it ,5 “mm chCOInC_a ‘ Ay. that I will,’ said the manly yeoman, good humour and genero- sity mingled in his countenacc. ‘_and I know that Mr. Darville,’ placing parent, no friend to guard and his hand on the old man’s shoulder, ‘ will also make them Welcome ; he ‘ You are orphans, then,v I hcsi- tatingly inquired. ‘ Alas! yes, sir.’ ‘ And how long have you been de- is always a friend to the poor and distressed.’ The old man replied not, but it was evident that something had struck a chord that sounded strange- ly in his bosom. He leaned heavily claSpcd the girl frantically to his bosom. ‘I was not deceived; here are her features; yes, yes, the blue eyes. the sweet smile. O God, forgive me for dcserting my daughter. soft i . 1 Children, come to ' e!” and as they hung around him. he wept aloud in the agony of his heart. The sequel is soon told. Alice. the old man's only child, as has been already narrated, had given offence by marrying with a poor, but honest ycoman. and from that mo- ment had been discarded from her father’s home and affections. After ten years of sorrow and suflcring, in a fatal hour, William Huntlyl enlisted in a regiment on the eve of1 cmbarkation for the Pcninsular" War, where, after acquainting him- self with distinguishcd bravery, he‘ iwas doomed to lay down his life on‘ ,thc decisive and sanguinary field of Waterloo. l mcâ€"kiss A L\' LI) XA CTL I" 1 [8-58. f l l'ld. ‘ . ‘ . . . ‘ About :1 year before this event, those 0 tie c ii ten of povcity ;,stncc, and three weeks ago I i'ecciv- ‘ agitated. Hml pressed his whithcrcd ‘Alicc hnd departed to another and ‘liantlui. ' ' . . . - ~ , tot his eyes to impede the ,bcttci world, Icavmg her offspring to thc faint hope, that her father might yet return. Through the kind ()fllt‘CS of a few of the inhabi- tants Ofthc villugc, lllU children were supplied with the meagre tic- ccssarics oflifc, till the intelligence IIunlly’s tlcnth i'cndcrcd that living tomb, the woi‘kliousc, their only slicltcr, But the pretty Mary, in the pride of her heart, determin- ed, that with her brothch and sis- tcrs, she would rather trust to the uncertain bread Ofeliarity, than be' ‘CUanllIO inmate of its walls; and it was their journeying oii their pil- griiiiagc of poverty, that God, in His inscrutable wisdom, had discov- ered to them their grands-ire, who now sought to make atonement to the orphans, for the suffering he had cost upon their parents Some years after this meeting, chance led me to the scene again. The honest miller and his spouse were still in the same abode. On I found that the pretty Mary had bteri wedded to a young and industrious yeoman, and with her brothers and sister, Ned, George, and the cherry-checked Patty, the otherjuvcnilc characters, ititzuiri‘, . . were living happily, on a small, but farm, purchased with the that old Dtii‘villc had be- qucalhcd to them at lzis tlcccasc; an event that transpired five years after his meeting with his grand. children. fertile wealth In company with the mil- lcr and his wife, Ipaid thcma visit; and I need hardly add, that I was. kindly received, and hospitably en- tertained by the family of the W'ay- fitters. COURTING IN FRENCH HOLLOW. ‘ Courtiii’ is all slick enough when evcrybody’s agreed, and the girl aint got no mischiefin her ; but. when an extensive family, old maids, cross daddy, and a romantic old mommy, all went to ptit their fingers into the young iiu's dish ofswcct doin's, and the gal's fractious besides, why, a fclhii‘ that's yearnin' after matri- mony is mity likely to get his fires! dinnpeiicd, or burst his biler.’ Thus reasoned Tom Bent to a se- lcct party ofrivcrcronics. who were scaled around him upon the boiler deck of a Mississippi steamer, as she . spctl along one bright night in June. somewhere in the neighborhood of Bayou 'I‘cchc. The subject was courting, and on question Tom was considered an or- acle, for, besides having a strong penchant for the fair sex, he had run many risks to ingrtitiate himself in their affections. Tom was now fast falling into the serc and yellow leaf of bachelorism, and although he had vowed unaltcrublc affection to at least one fair one in each town be- tween the mouth and the rapids, he still remained in unblesscd singlcncss. ‘llmv about that afurr of your'n with old Fcchu's gal, in St. Louis,‘ ‘ Tom 1' inquired one of the circle. ' \Vliat, that little French gal l‘ in- quired Tom, with a grin ; ‘wcll, that thar was a sultry scrape, boys. I T G OJL‘N.â€",If‘i/r0n. that particular. @rthnm, GAZETTE. . . v _ ~v»-~’ r- v-Vafi/ . . towin’ side and side together, she Ef I warn’t snagged at thisI wouldn‘t let her marry an American ! say so. The old fcllzii' wur a sittin' on a bench smokin' and lookin' on at the dance, and I just .- islicd him a hot bci'tli for a short spell. ‘ Well, Maric.’ sad I, ‘ch melt the old man down, will you gin in 1’ 'Oh, says she, ’ you so vuir strong at dc vat you call was, Ishnll not know how to my von lcctel no.’ ‘So haviii’ fixed it all her smooth as a full freight and a June rise, I drew up alongside of the old with follar, just as he had cleared his chimlcy for a fresh draw of his pipe. Old Focho had been a mountain trader, was strong timbcrcd, not much the worse fur wear. and look- ed wicked as a tread bear. I fired up and generated an inch or two to have her cracked up, {cause he thought her ci‘eation‘s finishin’ touch,â€"so did I! ‘ Oui, sair, says old Fecho, ‘ she vaii' fine lcctel gal, von angel wizout dc wing ; she is, sair, mine only Von fille.‘ ' ‘ Well, she is a scruugcoj,’ ansvver- cd I, ‘ a perfect hiin pressure, and- no dispute !' ‘ ' Vat you mean by him, eh.’ vat you call s-c-r-r-ouge, ch'l vat is he, ‘Iairf my lcetcl gal no vat you call » von s-c-r r-i'-ougc, sair !’ and here old Fcclio went off into a mad tfit‘. jest as of I'd called her bad names. I‘ tried to put dntvn l.is ‘safety valve,’ but he would blow offhis wrath, and workin’ liimsclfinto a parlect freshet of rage, he swore he would take the. little gal ofl'homc ; and I'm blessed ef he didn't. Ad soon as I eyed the old fcllarsoitin'l got in his wake and follcrcd him, determined to find out whar be located ; and arter an eternal long windin’ through one street artcr another, down he dived into French IIolIow. Jest as he wur about to enter a house built agiu the side of the hill, the old fellai‘ heard my footsteps, and turnin’ round in the darkness, he shouted. ‘Ali. lltll von sneak Yankee doodel, vat call my lectcl gal von s-c-r-r-r-ougc, I shall cut you all up into von leetel piece VlthIll von wliole.’ ‘ You know, boys, I ain’t easy skcer‘d, but I own that old fellat‘ did kind a make me skeery; they told sich stories about the way he used to skin Ingins, lllttt I gin to thinkit was about best to let him have both sides of the channel cf he wanted it, sol ditln’t durr go to see Marie fura long .spcll. One day I felt a strong hun- kcrin’, and jest strolled along the boiler to git a glimpse on her, and sure enough that she wur, a leanin’ out o’ winder, smilin’ like the mornin sun on a sleepin’ bayou. I slided up to the house, and asked her of I dat'i' cum and sit up with her that cvcniii'. I told her I was jest frit- ,tcrin’ away all to nothin‘ thinkin' on ll(‘l‘. and a small mite of courtin’ would spur me up umazin’; and then I gin hcr scch a look, that she llluttered into consent as easy as a mockin’ bird whistles. told me that her old daddy \vuuhln‘tg _‘. the house stands, and I wur particu- larly near floppin' into it sevem A piece of candle in the titties. ‘wiudcr lighted me to whar the little gal was a waitin'. and when I tap- ped at the door below, she patterrcd down and piloted me up to the sittin’ room, whar we sot down and took a good look at each other. Sheloolt- ml pooty enough to tempt afel'lar to bilu a piece out on her. I had all sorts of good things made up to say when a chance offered, and here the chance wur, but cuss me ef I could get out the fuel mutter. Whether it wur skeer at the idee of the old Frenchman, or a bilin’ up of affec- sliun for his dartcr that stuck my throat so tight, I’m unable to swat, but thar I wur, like a boat fast on a sand-bar. blowin’ some, but making mily little head-way.’ ‘ Vat is de mattair wiz you, moun- sccri' said Marie; lyou look vair much like dc leaf, in van grand storm all ovair wiz do shakc!’ ‘ Well,’ says I, ‘Ido feel as of I wur about to collapse a fine, orbust my bilcr, for the fact of the mortar is, Marie, they say your old daddy’s a tiger, and CH get caught here thar’ll be suthin’ brokeâ€":1 buryin’ instead of :i weddin’ ;---not that I’m the least mite ekccred fur myself, but the old man might git hurt, and I should be fretted to do any sech a thing.’ ‘ Oh, man ami, nevair be fear fur him. he is von great, strong as vat you call dc gentleman cow,â€"â€"von bulkâ€"but man Dicu! what shall I do wiz you, suppose he come, ehf He will cut you into bits all ovair 7.’ ‘ But, my angel,‘ ses I, ‘he shout ketch me. fur l’ll streak it like a fast boat, the moment I hear steam from more steam,and then blcw offathim. his scape-pipcâ€"the old man might ‘ That’s an onconscionablc slick gal as well try to catch a Mississippi of yourn. mounsccr,’ says I, :to be- catty with a thread .linc, as git his gin with ; and it did tickle his fancy fingers on me.’ I had noseoner said so, than bang went the door below, and old Fecho, juicy as a lemon, came feclin’ his way up stairs, mut- terin’ like a small piece offat thunder, and swarin’ in French .orfully. L.I know’d that warn’t much time to spare, so 1 histh up the winder and backed out. .Jest as I was about to drop, Marie says to me, 'Oh, man 135m! don’t drop into :de vell!’ and instanter'shut the winder. My liar i'iz on ecnd in a momentâ€"4 don’t drop into the eelll’ I‘ll tell you what, boys, a sense into the Missis- sippi in ice time warn’t half its cold as her last warnin’. made me. It was so eternal dark that’I cOhldn’t begin to tell which side of thejbuild~ ing I wur on, and that war an all important pertieuler, for it. wur just three stories high on one side, to- wards the Hollow, and it warn't only ne on the side next the hillâ€"in course, all the chances wur lilfflVQ-l‘ of the well bein’ on the lovv: side. I'd gin all I had then to know which side was waitin’ below fur me. 'I looked up, as I hung on, to see of thar warn’t a star shinin’ somewharc‘ jest to give a hint of what was be- low, but they'd all put on thar night caps. and woul’ln’t be coaxed from under the river ; then I’d look below and listen, until I made sartin in my mind that I could hear the droppin’ of water somewhere aboutfiftyfret below me. Old Fecho was a’teai'in’ through the room, and a i'ippin’ out French oaths in an oncommon rapid manner. and declarin’ that he lillt‘tV some one had bin that“, fur he’d bin told so. Two or threetimcs be apâ€" pcarcd to be ,i‘ushin’ for the winder, and the little gal would coax him back agin, and then he’d cuss the Yankee doodles, and grit his teeth most owdat‘iously. Well, efI worn: in an oneasy situation all this time. then I'm more than humanâ€"my arms jest stretched out to about a yard and a half in length, and gin to cramp and git orful weak. I couldn’t fur the life ofme think on any prayer I’d ever heard-«at last, just as one hand was givin’ way its hold, I thought ofa short one I used to say when I was a younkcr, and mutâ€" terin’â€"' Here Idrop me down deep, [pray the Lord my bones to keep !’ I sot my teeth together, drew a long breath, shut my eyes, and let go !â€" whiz Iâ€"r-r-r-ip !â€"â€"bangl I wentâ€" and though the laugh is agin me than l ‘ Oh. (mi, you shall come sometime I’m blessed if I don't give you the dis night, when moi: pore is gone to sai‘cumstince.' So Tom sqnarcd'dc Cllfltli't't" but you must be vair liimsclffor a yarn, wct his lips with ‘ quiet us run leetel rat, vat dcy call a little cornjuicc, t0u|t a small strip dc mouse, and go vay before he 1come back to de maison.’ ‘Iii course I promised to do jest I kissed my hand to reignei‘. I ever took ashutcartcr; licrrhcr, and said our ruvoir, as the eyes jest floated about in her head French say for good-bye, and then like a star’s shadow on a Mississippi l paddled ofl‘ to wait for night. I felt wave, and her motch was as trim as, wuss than oneasy untill the time or- the steamer Eagle ; 'sidcs, licr, riv', and when it did git round I gin paddles wur the cleanest shaped fit- 1 to crawl all overâ€"--I swar I was :1 ins’ that ever pt‘Opcllcd anythin' hn- lcctcl skeercd. HOWs’cver, it warn’t man, and her laugh rung likc nt:ltttl-, manly to back out now when the lcngc bcll ona ‘ fast. trip’~â€"it couldn't 1 gal was cxpeetin' me, so I started be beat. She run into my atl‘ccshimu. 3 for the Hollow. I think a darker and Icouldn't hpr it. Itlnnr‘cd with night was nevcrmixed up and spread her at some of the balls in French-,nvcr this vearth. You remember. town, and thur I gin to edge up and, Bill, the night you steered the old tnlk tender to her, but she only liagle square into the bank at Milli- langhcd Hi my swcci‘nin.’ Artcr a kcn’s bendl well, it wur jest a mite spell, when I cum itstrong aboutaf- darker than that! A muddy run of Missouri weed, and ‘lct out.’ l ‘That gal of old Fcclio’s wur‘, about the pootycst creatur, fur a {0- as she said. as I supposedâ€"about fifty feet; and didn’t I holler, when I ‘lit and rolled over, and the water souscd all round me! ‘Murdcr! 0h, git me out, oh-oâ€"o-O, murder! The purple came a rushiii’ out of their houses, with lights, and Siclt another jargon of questions as they showered at meâ€" askin’, all together, who’d bin :1 stabbin’ me? what war the matter? and who’d hit me? I opened my eyes to tell ’cm I’d fell from the third storey, and broke every bone in my body, when, on lookin’ up, thar war the old Frenchman and his tlarter, grinnin’ out of the top win- der. about tcnfrrt above me! The fact wur. boys, I’d dropped out on the hillside of the house, and jump- ed down jest fourfct’t from “her my toes reachedâ€"1 had lit on the edge of a water pail. and it flowed about me when I fell over! Artcr old Fecho told them the joke. they pretty nigh busted a lzii‘fm’ at me. I crawlel off, arlcr firin’ a volley at old Mounseer. of the hardest kind of cusses; and from that day 10 this I hain't gone a t‘out‘lin’ HI French lIollow!‘-1“rmzz SCCRt‘)‘ ta ‘fccshuu, and the uccdccssity of winds along through the ravine whar flu' Far li’cst.