LAG. Banner and ’Onmmenml Painter. ‘ Elizabeth Street. 'l‘oromo.â€"-0ver \V. Grif- ï¬tl’s Grocery Store. C? Coats of Arms. and overydescriplion of L Humid Painting, executed with despalcll,nl)d a! resonnble charges. June. 1857. ngy. M. MORRISON. Agent ,Ta-onlo. June 19th. 1857. gl-wy. HENRY SANDERSON, “assortment ofhread, Biscuit and Cakes. constantly on hand. The Subscriber has also opened a Grocery QELLINGTON HOTEL, W0 Miles North of Richmond Unll, dealer in Dry Goods, Groceries, Wines.l.iquors, Hardware. GlasS. Earthenware, 6L0. IL? Also. Licensed Auctioneer. . EALER in Groceries, Wines and Liquors. Thronhiil. C. W. Choice brands of Teas. Sugars and Coï¬'eas on lurid, genuine asA lrggprled. ‘ JOHN HARRINGTON, JR., September. 23. 18574 JIIII‘ 90. 1857‘ gmecï¬o. Corner of Yongo and Bradford Directs. Holland Landing. Hammer. 26, 1857. g25-lf Saddle and Harness Maker, THORNHILL. NNKEEPER. Licensed Auctioneer 'or the: Counties of York, Onmio and u,,; Thornhill. Nov. 16. 1857. The Subscriber has also opened 1: Grocery nnd Provision Store on RICHMOND HILL. which will be conducted by Mr. C. SHEPHERD, from the ï¬rm or the late Thoma 6L Parsons. Thornhill. Sept. 25. 1857. gl7-IY June. 1857‘ PPOSITE A. LA “"5, Yauge street. R:ch- mond Hill. Ladies’ and Gentlemons’ Boots and Shoes. rude afler the Inlost styles. foods. No. 80. CityBuildinés. King Strleat Ens; oposite St. James’ Cathedral, Toronto. C. W Richmond Hill. June 10. 1857‘ J. VERNEY, Boot and 51100 Maker. Algusl 6. 1857. 59] CHAS. POLLOCK, SO] CORNER ofFront and George sweus one block east of the Mark?" ’ Torongo. JOHN ROACH, DR. JAMES LANGSTAFF, MPORTER of British and Amer' D Goods. Groceries. Wines. IJiqugfstllOil: Paints. &c.. &c. Richmond Hill, June. 1837. g.l-wy, THOMAS SEDMAN, Carriage, Waggon S; Sleigh TWIPO RT ER of Brilish,French German i 904-1‘95'59'239cv as)! Sjavlevrr U Oflice. Richmond Hill. June. 1857. DJOINING the Wesleyan Methodial. ’ ’Chlpol. Yonge Street. Richmond Hill. Achoice aelecï¬on ol' Gemlemeus’. Ladiw‘ ‘14 Children.’ Boom and Shoes constantly on {and- Ind made to order on the Shortest No- a. W “Wines. Liquiï¬s. Hardware. 61c Richmond Hill, June. 1857. gJ-wy. Corner of Yonge and Ceml1 Thoruhill. \ugust I4. 1857. [ET All killle Shoemaker: Findings for unlo‘ Rchmond Hill. June 12m, 1857. mlwo'. Richmond Hill. June. 1857. g ’ Yong-e St., Richmond Hill. Inn. 1857. g Nov. 5. 1857. runo. 1857‘ January M, 1855‘ Bottled Ale Depot, 65, YORK STREET, T O R 'O N '1‘ 0, C. \V. January 1-1. 1858 Barristers, &(~., No. 7. WELLINGTON BUILDINGS, KING ST., TORONTO. V 00D Stabling nnd A‘lOIEI‘i‘V'e'11VIOISEIe M nrch 5. £858 MESSRS. J. 8: W. BOYD, HARON. Allenlive Hosllers ‘ attendance. ROBERT J. GRIFFITH, 3311mm†Eiccctorg. GEORGE DODD, Veterinary Surgeon. AUCTIONEER. EAR the Railroad S‘lntion. Aurora Careful Hosllars always in attendance. LERK THIRD DIVISION COURT‘ Lot 26, 41h Com, Vuuglmu. " HORSE 5L FARRIER " INN ROBERT SIVER, Boot and Shoe Maker, HYSICIAN JOHN COULTER, Tailor and (‘lmhicr’ ‘ CALEB LUDFORD, Veterinary Surgeon, ‘ornex of Yonge null Qeqtre Streets. n1nu "A" MANSION HOUSE, A. GALLANOUG H, Opposite the While Swan Inn JAMES MCCLURE, ROACH’S HOTEL CLYDE HOTEL, KING STREET EAST, TORONTO. JOSEPH KELLER, JOHN GRIEVE, ---\u vcuuu mcuï¬buu mum MAKER, .RY GOODS. GROCERIES. L N: REID, . BARNARD, P. CROSBY, AND J. KAVANAGH, Proprietor JOHN MILLS. l’roplietor gJ-wy. C. CASE. Proprietor entro Streets. SURGEON PFDPHBIOL always in g.3-wy 2.1 -wy g l.wy. g9-6m g.1 -wy gJ-wy g‘l4otl' ulO-xf I39 and Pickled Meals. l’ouluv, 510.. always on hand. Families supplied on tho shortest nnlice. Saddle and Harn ess Maker, W. H. MYERS. SADDLE AND IHRNESS MAKER, Juno. 1857 BLACK HORSE HOTEL ll-‘ORMERLY KEPT BY WM. RDLPHJ ORNER of Palace and George streets, east of the Mmket Square. Toronto. Board $1 pgr day: 6006 Slabling {and allantive Hcsller§ mm“ W] EMPIRE and Iron Plato Works/s, and Furnishing lronmnugerx, Panies givnng this house a call will ï¬nd their orders puuclually utlended to. and the lowest prices charged. .LV eXChange_ The shove 'is [he olï¬est and l’roviflon Store on the June. 1857 Grocery & Provision Sto 1' RICHMOND HILL. 0 CREDIT GIVEN. Prot‘uce taken in exchange. STAGE runs from \he abova Hotel m Toronto every momiug, starting from (he Elgill Mi Is at 7. a In. and l'elulniug at 7, p m. Fare 25. 6d. each wan GOOD ACCOMMODATION FOR TRAVELLERS. PALACE 51‘. (onesn‘r‘. 'rm: TORONTO. Meals 20 cents each. and ion for Farmers and others. Toronto, June ll, 1858. AS always on hand a large assortment of BOOTS and SHOES. which will be sold at prices to meet the times. Richmond Hill. June 17, 1858. 54-1)‘ Always. in aueudance.‘ A“ omnibus m and from the Railroad Station. ‘ Richmond Hill, July 2. 1858 June 2. l858‘ 66, King Street East, Toronto. Particular attention given to the regulation of Children’s Teeth. Toronto. Junc. 1>67 ESPLANADE HOTEL, BY G. TURNER, \ FOR 000 Watchoa.Clocks. Jewelry. Mela Electra Ware. Silva: Spoons. and S clel to suit. every sight. I]? Watch Clubs in Operuion. Wu Clocks from 203 upwvd. Toronro. June. 1857. Thoruhill. March 19. 1658 July -2. 1853 Richmond Hill. June 1853. Richmqu Hill, June 17. 1858. Toronto. Feb 26. 1858‘ Cnnsnhnlions Free. and a“ “lurk “'arranted TWO DOORS SOUTH OI" THE TRIBUNE OFFICE AGENT FOR. Darling & Aitchison‘s COMBINED WILLIAM HARRISON, THORNHIL L. Richmond Hill. Feb. 17, 1858. 137-131 ï¬ll kinds of .Mixecl Paints Oils, Glass, and Putty. PAINTERS, GOOD WORKMEN SENT TO ANY PART OF THE COUNTRY. Grainos, Gilders, Glaziers, and Paper Hangers“. July 23. 1857. RICHMOND HILL HOTEL Vol. II. No. 6. U 'I‘ C H E R, TIIORNHILL. Fresh EDMUND GRAINGER, MORPHY Ornamental Painter. WARD & McCAUSLAND, ALL \\'()1{K WARRAN'I‘ED J. W. GRIFFITH, DAVID ATKINSON, HOLESALE and Retail Cfpper._'l‘i11 MARKHAM VILLAGE, C.W‘ JAMES JENKINS’, Next ‘door 10 G. A. Barnard’s. W. HODGE & Co. Hausa. Sign and Ornamental MA CH AYES, Richmond Hill; T. MJCBETH, Jinn. @ritigb JAMES HALL, (.ARRIAGE, SIGN. RICHARD NICHOLLS THOMAS PALMER. â€"â€"ANI)â€" BROTHERS SURGERY. W.C.ADAMS DOCTOR e~tablished Grocery Hill. OLD ms wonxs) good accommoda- Dental W'ITH 0R WITHOUT OFFENCE TO FRIENDS 0R FOES, Richmond Hill. g.l-wy. Proprietor. t38-1y Proprietor . 55-ly Wurranled Melodeons g.1wy Specln‘ 53-1y 141 54-ly 55-ly 52-ly \\' y .tu ‘ To-morrow,’ observed Mr. Suth- erland, ‘is the anniversary of the melancholy death ofour dear Henry, to-morrow it will be ten years since the vessel in which we sailed, was tlost, and all on board perishedâ€"all, Vall.’ ‘ Alas,’ exclaimed the wife as lthe tears coursed their way down lhcrcheeks, ‘to-morrow will be a melancholy day. Indeed it will, for to-morrow this house, which be- longed to my fatherâ€"the furniture lwhich time has made, as it were. a part of ourselves, and associated with many a pleasing event in our Ilives, is to be soldâ€"-torn from us by the unrelenting hands of creditors. ;Bnt thank Heaven, misfortune. not crime. has reduced us to this stage of poverty.’ ‘No my child, I hope with what little money a friend :loaned me, I can secure a few ar- ticles. Ellen, my dear, take your pencil and put these down ; ï¬rst the side board. two beds, chairs and kitchen things. The side board, it is true, will be to us;a superfluous piece of furniture, but it belonged to my mother, I cannot, and will not part with it.’ But my piano pa !â€" must itgol The wife sighed, the father cast his eyes towards the flickering ï¬re, and the daughter was silent. The fate of the piano was decided upon, a melancholy â€"Hausdwl:[ W'urlls. THE FORCED SALE. It was a tempestuous night. the winds whisiled fearfully â€"â€" and hailstones whose size threatened In demolish the windows, rnttleti against them with :1 pertinacity‘ as if to test theirstrength. In the pur- lnr of an old fashioned house, besitlc rather a comfortable ï¬re on Stll'll a night, was seated the family at. Mr. Sutherland, consisting of himself. wife. daughter, and a faithful muitl servant. A heavy gloom, more of sorrow than of anger, resth 0.. each brow ; not even excepting that of the maid servant alluded to, from whose eager glances ever and anon cast towards the family group, it close observer would have no- ticed the deep interest she took in the cause of their grief. The pic- ture was :1 melancholy one, for virtue in distress has no light shade to relieve; all round is dark and sombre. The sensitive artist would have thrown aside his pencil if the subject had been presented to his View as we have described it, and his heart would have received an impression which could not be transferred to canvass. And yet the silence strange and still, The air of sadness and decay" The moss that rows upon the sillâ€"â€" Yes. love an hope have gone away Adown the slope a slender shape Danced lightly with her flying curls. And manhoods deeper tones were hleut \Vilh the gay laugh of happy girls. 0h stolen meetings at the gate ! Oh Iingerings in {ho open door ! Oh moonlight rambles long and lalo ! My heart can scarce believe them a And strolling down the orchard slope (So wide a likeness grief will crave.) Each dead leaf seems a wilhemd hope, Each mossy hillock looks a grave. So like. so like a worn-out heart. Which the last Ienanl ï¬nds too cold. And leaves for evermore. as they Have left this homestead, red and old. They will nbt hear me in call; They will not see these fears that start; ’Tis autumnâ€"autumn with it allâ€"- And worse than autumn in my haart. Oh leaves, so dry. and dead. and sere ! I can recall some happier hours. ‘Vhen summer’s glory lingered here. \Vhen summer’s beauty touched flowers. Poor empty house ! poor lonely heart ! T’were \vell ifbravely. side by side, You waited. U“ the hand of Time Each ruiu’s mossv Wreath supplied. I lean upon the Gate. and sigh; Some bium-toars will force their way And then 1 bid the place goodâ€"bye For many along and weary day. 1 cross the little ice-bound brook (In summer ’lis a noisy stream). Turn round and lake 3 last fond look, And all has faded like a dream 1 [see the farmhouse red and old. Above the roof iLs maples sway ; The hills behind are bleak and cold; The wind comes up and dies away I gaze into each empty room. And as l gaze a gnawing pain Is at my heart. In thought of those Who ne’er will pass the doors again A TALE OF REAL LIFE érlrriinnm. GONE. AWAY‘ AND YORK RIDINGS’ GAZETTE the pause in the conversation Dial-“1w A. gentleman remarked that the told how severe were the feelings a“ was a COM heartless one. of its victims when exacting the ‘ Wasit?’ sm‘caslically asked Mr. penalty of a bond. ‘Cliflbrd. ‘then sir, why did you not '()n the morning of the contem- plnlt‘d sale, there were to be seen crowds of' people flocking to the house of Mr. Sutherlandâ€"some out of sheer. heartless curiosity, friends of the family, who come with mock- ery on their lips, and empty purses. others with an interest to purchase; but not one among the crowd show- ed the least desire to aid, assist or sympathise with the distress of the family. This is, the world; we laugh at the misfortunes of our l'ellow creatures, and everadd to their distress, by witnessing in sil- ence their misfortunes. The auc- tioneer was now making his alâ€" rnngements by flourishing his ham" mer, rolling his eyes, and using his tongue. The motly crowd gath- ered around him. The house was put up ï¬rst. it was accurately des- cribedâ€"free from all incumbrances, and subject to very small house rent. It was started at five thouâ€" sand dollars. There were several bidders, all of whom seemed desir- ous to purchase it. ‘ Go, Mary, and request the She- riff’s ofï¬cer who is watching the property. to walk into the parlor; he is only doing his duty, no doubt it is as painful to him as it is distress- inf},r to us. Let him share :1 seat at our ï¬re. for it is a severe night.’â€" ‘It is indeed a fearful night,’ ob- served Mr. Sutherland. ‘ and we have behaved rude to this man.’ a ‘ Father, it wasâ€". Mary returned with the ofï¬cer. a polite. gentlemanly man. for such should be the character of men who have to perform a part in the drama of lil'eâ€"â€"unlike that ofthe in- quisition of old, whose ix was to torture by the rack ; with this dif- ference, however, theirs was a phy- sical tortureâ€"ours a mental one, administered with all the nicety and precision of legal justice. The ofâ€" ï¬cer politely accepted the invita- tion, and endeavored to cheer his vir‘tims by enumerating many cases of a similar kind, equally poignant and distressing. Thus the evening passed heavily and cheerlessly' n'l\Vi1V. Mother, I have made a ï¬re in this room, where heâ€"bulâ€"‘ speak nut chiH-it was with the last stick.’ Seven thousanl ï¬ve hundred dol- lars was at last bid, upon which he dwelt for a moment. Mr. Suther- land compressed his lips together and muttered to himself it cost my I'alhcr ï¬fteen thousand dollars.’ Seven thousand ï¬ve hundred doiâ€" lars, goingâ€"once â€"twicc â€" three timesâ€"for the last time goingâ€"â€" ‘ Eight thousand.’ Thank you, sir. going at reight thousandâ€"once, eight thousand, twiceâ€"eight thousand. three times, going, gone! What name 1 Clifford, was the response; and all eyes rested on a tall, noble Ioolt- mg man, who had remained silent during the rapid bidding of the speculators, and who, as the whisv per went round, was a total stranger. ‘ It is gone,’ whispered Mr. Sulliâ€" erland to his wife as he pressc] her hand in silent grief, ‘ we have no home now.’ Now,gentiemen, said the auctionâ€" eer. we will sell the side board, in regard to which, I am requested to say by the creditor, that it is an old famin piece, and itis the wish of the owner to retain possession of it if possible. I merely mentioned it, as it is known to you under what peculiar circumstances the things are sold. This had the desired effect, no one seemed willingto bid against the unfortunate man. who stalled it at ten dollars. Twenty was bid by Mr. Clifl‘ord; twenty-ï¬ve by Mr. Sutherland; ï¬fty from Clifl'ord si- lenced the parents, and the family piece of furniture was knocked down to the new possessor of the house. RICIIDIOND HILL, FRIDAY, JULY 16, [$58. ‘Mr. Clifford, I am not so old but that I can resentaninsult, nay. I will ifyou carry this arrogant, and to me, strange conduct. much farther. That poor girl has been to me and mine, the best, and I may say the oldest l'rieutl ', she is not to me as a servant, but one of my family, for there is, thank heaven, no such base distinc- tion in poverty that ex‘sts in the state elblesscd wealth. Here, with no- thing but what we have upon our bat-ks, the master and servant are equal. She is a part of my family, and] will protect her from insult. That lrunl? is hers, and who dare take it from her? Not you, sir !' ‘ Was it ?’ sm‘caslically asked Mr. Clifford. ‘then sir, why did you not buy it for him ?' Mr. Sutherland was much aflccled by this incident. ‘He liule knows how he has Iaccraled this heart.â€" BulIwill purchase the piano for my child.’ He stepped up to Mr. Clifl'ord and told the desire he had to purchase the piano for his daughter, and he hoped that he would not bid against him. ‘ Sir,’ said the stranger, ‘ as much asI respect your feelings, and the sympathy of this good company. I cannot. nay, [ will not alter the dc- terminnlion made when I ï¬rst en- tered this house.’ ‘ And pray what may that be 1’ ‘ To purchase everything in it, and by heavens I’ll do it, though I pay double the price.’ ‘ Slrungc.’ muttered Mr. Suther- land, as he found his family in an- other part of the room. After the sale was over, and the company had retired, Mr. Clifford requested the auctioneer to go with him into an adjoining room, alter the lapse Ofa few moments, they both returned to the parlor, where the family still remained. The auction- eer looked around and gave them a knowing smile. and as he left the room was hea d to say, I never heard of such thing; it perfect romance. Ha I .ha l ha! ‘You are nuw,’ observed Mr. Sutherland to Clifford, ‘ the owner of this house and furniture; they were mine once, but let that pass. "1 am, sir, for the time being, your landlord.’ ‘Iunderstamly011.sir, but I will not long remain your tenant. I was going to observe, however. that here are a few articles which I am anxious to purchase. That side board for instance is a family relic, ‘ It is painful to me. young lady to refuse CVcn this. I will sell no- thingâ€"not even-[the wood-saw in the cellur.‘ ‘ Then Mr. Clifford,’ said Mr. S., ‘ we have no furlher business here. Come my dear Ellen, get your bon- netâ€"that is your banLl-boxâ€"lcx Us quit the house; We are not even free from insult. \Vherc is Mary T ‘Smp, my girl, melhinks I pur- chased that trunk,’ cooly observed We stranger? The stranger fulfilled his promise, and actually boughteverythiungom the house itscll, down to the very wood axe in the cellar! anxious to purchase. That side board for instance is a family relic, [ will giva you ï¬fty dollars, the price youhpaid for it, and I lecl as- sured, under the circumslances, you will not refuse me this one fuvor.’ ‘ I cannot take 1!, sn‘.’ ‘ Obdurale, ungrateful man I’ ‘ Will you not let pa buy my piano sir'l’ humbly asked Ellen, ' he \Nlll give you the price at which it wus sold.’ ‘I am here, sir, the key of my trunk is lost, and] um fastening it with a rope.’ Mr. Clifford arose, cast his eyes upon Mary. who at that moment arose from’ the floor; for a moment they gazed on each oxher in silence. ‘And she, you say, has been to ‘Indeed she has, a kind and nobie one.’ you ‘Mr. Sutherland, stay one mo- ment ; my good girl put down that trunk; take a seat, madam; permit a friend 7.’ SKETCH YOUR IVORLI) EXACTLY AS IT GOESâ€"Byron @rihnnt, me. Miss, to hand you a chair ; Mr. Sutherland will you be seated? I have yet something more to say.â€"â€" V’thn you requested me to give up the wish I had to purchase that side- board, I lold you it was my deter- mination to buy it, and Itell' you now that I will not sell it.’ ‘ This. Mr. Clifford, needs no rc- pctilion.’ ‘ Aye, but it does; and when that young lady made the same request for her piuno, my answer was the same. Stop, sir. hear me out; no man would act.so without a motive ; no one,parliculurly a stranger, would court the displeasure of a crowded room, and bear up against the frowns ofmany. without an object. Now, [had an object, and that wasâ€"~be seated sir; Madam, your attention â€"â€"thnt object was to buy this house and furniture for the sole purpose of restoring them to you and yours again l’ ‘Sir, is not this a crueljest'l’ ‘Is it possible 7.’ exclaimed the mo~ ther and daughter. Amazemcnt [00k posseSSion of Mary, and her trunk fell to the floor with a crash, causing her small stock of clothing to roll out, which she quickly gathered up and thruslback, without any regard to the manner in which it was done. ‘The auctioneer, continued Mr. Clifford, ‘ has my instructions to have the matter arranged by the morrow. In the meantime you are at home, Mr. Sutherlandâ€"you are in your own house, and I the intruder.’ ‘Intruder, s'r? Oh, say not that! I will not tell you what a relief this is to me, but I am yet to know how I am to repay you for all thisâ€" and what could have induced you. a total stranger, thus to step forward. Ah. a thought strikes meâ€"â€"graeious heavens! Can it be! Look on me, Mr. Cliflbrdâ€"nay. start not.’ The stranger actually recoilcd from the glance of Mr. Sutherland’s eye.â€" ‘Look on me, sir; has that girl-â€" that innocent girlâ€"who stands trembling there, any interest in this generous act of yours? I speak, sir, that I may Spurn your 0561‘, re- sent the insult.’ . ‘I will not deny, sir, butshe has. ‘Mc, fatherâ€"dear father! [never before saw that gentleman’s face !’ ‘Sirâ€"Iâ€"indced father, lâ€"~â€"’ ‘ Remember ten years buck ; call to mind a light ltuil‘ed buy. whom you C:lllcdâ€"’ ‘ Brother I’ ‘Graeious heaven! Henry, my boyâ€"’ i A BELLE AMONG THE ALLIGATORS Need we addmorcl Ourrcaders can not readily jmagine n more chccrf'ul ï¬re blazing on the hearth, and Mary. the faithful servant, was not forgotten in the general joy which prevailed on the occasion. ‘ 15 here son.’ Where your ever down on the Red River, in Arkansas. reatlerl “not all of the “elephants†that you've seen, lacked the ivory. My ï¬rst experience there was pleasant. veryâ€"I may detail it perhaps, for you, some time or other. It oeeur- ed in consequence of an advertise- ment for an editor for the “ Alex- andria Gazette.†on the Red River, stating as an inducement, that the salary was large, pistols. ammuni- tion and howies provided. and only six editors had been killed in the previous ï¬ve months. Whether I accepted the situatibn or not, has nothing however, to do with this story. But it was only a few weeks after that advertisement met my eyes, that the same eyes were blessed with a ï¬rst “ sight†of sweet Clara Bâ€"â€"â€". dear Clara B , And as a first sight almost always brings a dead shot, so I go- a plumper right into my heart when I saw hcr. The glossicst of curls danced about the rosiest of cheeks, and DY COL. CEO. “I CLARA B I am your long lost CROCKETT My heart was fairly in mv mouth now. for I did not dare to speak to her the slightest nervousness (r mix-step would be. sure to preei} i- tate her down to the dark waters where the great ravenous fresh- l water sharks lav, looking at her with eager eyes. perchancc {ant-y- ing what a delicious morsel shc‘ would make. But grasping my oft‘ tried rifle in my hand Iadvanced to‘ the edge of the bank and almrst breathlessly watched her progress. All went very wellâ€"her step as free and ï¬rm as ifit had been upon the flowery Sud. until she had reach- ed a point nearly two thirds of the way across. Then the crackling of some of the top branches on the oth- er shore causod the tree to waver and settle. She became alarmed, lost her self-possession and the next |instant, with a wild scream of ter- Ah 1 Clara. Clam, how could you be false to one who loved you so ! And one who did for yog thwhich is “ hereinafter stated,†as the law- yers say I down upon shoulders as white as magnolia leaves; the most ki5sable of rubient lips, opened to reveal the pearliest ofteethâ€"her eyes twinkt led like dew-drops on a sunny June morningâ€"her voice sounded like the cooing ofa dove when it an- swers its mate, her form was plump yet fairy-like in its proportions, her dear little foot encased in a guitar boot was annexed to a faultless an? cle, in short, Clara wasa beauty and "nothing shorter." She was the life ot'n ball room, the queen of the parlor and on horseback, why “ Di Vernon†would have wilted before her, I mean the Di V. of Sir \Vulter Scott -â€"â€"not your own gifted correspon- dent. Fond of equestrian pleasure, as I Was, it need not be wondered at that I often volunteered to ac- company Miss Clara on her rides. and, hunter born and bred as I am, it need not be thought strange that I should frequently take my shoot- ing rifle along. the more especially as our rides were through a “ game†country. in the literalsense of the word. Many a fat buck and many a prime turkey fell before my unerring aim in these rides, even though my hand trembled the more that she was by my side, and many a pretty doe bounded away in safety because Clara asked for its life. One day. how well I remember it, Clara and myself took a long wild gallop away up aiong the banks of the Red River. and only paused when we reached a deep and slug- gish bayou which extended up from the river some ways. and here in the shade of sodas ta†magnohns we dismounted so as to rest oer horses which had come at full speed for miles. Like most of the bayous in that section. this was l'ull of alligators, which lay lazily snoozng here and there upon the water, some of them halfout on the cozy banks where they could ï¬nd a sunny spot to "lay of?" in, like a Wall street broker watching for a streak of luck in the wake of a crisis. Across this bayou to the opposite shore a most dangerous bridge ex- tended, at least a perilous one to an inexperienced foot, for it was along and slender pine, nearly branchlcss, which had been toppch over by some hurricame. ‘Thcn the more pleasure for me !’ she cried, starting up from the mossy bank wheron she had reclin- 'For the Lord’s sake, 'stop, Miss Clnrn!‘ I cried. “just look at the alligators in the water I’ "Wouldn’t I create asensalion amongst lhem!’ she cried with a silvery laugh, and before [could prevent it, she was on the fuilcn tree and advancing“. ‘ What’ll you wager that I dare not cross on that pole 'I’ said Clara, as she glanced at the slender tree. ‘1’“ wager all that I possess that you’ll not make the attempt in my presence !’ Inreplicd. ‘ It would be as foolish as It is dangerous!‘ Whole N0. 58. I had been scared before, had been in some trouble when I was sur- rounded by over twenty yelping Camanrtltes, and had to light my way out alone, or die in my tracks, but was never quite so much ‘ put out’ as now. I was in the act of springing into the water to her res« one when I saw that drowning Was the least danger which menaced her. Sevural of the huge and hideous all- igators wore moving towards her with open jaws, for her clothing prevented her from sinking instant- ly. [had no time to lose. In a second my rifle was at my shoulder and a ball from its muzzle penetra- ted the eye of the nearest monster. But scarce had it plunged down in- to the foaming waters, when an- other was almost upon her. An- other hnllet shot from my rifle and it, with a horrible bellow went down. Another and another fol- lowed until the water was red with blood, and lashed into foam by the wounded monsters, and worst of all my last charge was expended, and there was no time to reload. ror. losing her balance, she fell into the water. Clara had ceased to scream, but she was now sinking, for her clothes had become saturated and nolonger served to buoy hcrup. One glance at her sweet pulc face, and her im- pluring eyes, decided me to go in and either save or perish with her. So I threw down m\‘r rifle, loosened the bowie in my belt, and rushing out upon the gut}, plunged into the water by her side. But there we were‘ full ten miles from home in a pretty condition to “see company.†limb of our horses gone, for they had broken their bridlcs and fled teniï¬ed almost to death by \he hideous noises which they had heard. Forluuulely for us both, my heavy weight brought the tree down to the wafer, and when I rose and clasped her by the waist, it was within my reach. Fortunately, [ may say indeed, for the water was now fairly alive wiih the hideous creatures, which maddened‘ with the smell of blood! made the forest echo wilh the dismal bellowings. How I got her up on the fallen tree, and' how I clambcmd after her. or how we reached (he bank, and there, covered with blood and slimy mud. sunk exhausch upon- the earth, is more than I am able lo tell, or erur fully l0 comprehend. ‘1)[dn’l I create a sensation among those alligators 7.’ she asked. ‘I think lllls no time for joking. Miss Clara !‘ said [ half angry at her lcvxly. ‘You have escaped from the very jaws of death 2’ ‘ From the jaws of the alligator, you moan !‘ she cried with another laugh. ‘Wlmt a ï¬gure you are, colonel, you look as ifyou’d bzen swrmniug lhrnugh a battle!’ ‘ If my appearance displeases you, Miss Clara?! hope you will excuse my furlhcr mtcndence!‘ said I, now as cmnplclely rilwl as the bayou was. And I started up to leave. ‘ Forgive me, Colonel,’ she cried. and a sad look usurped the smile on her pretty face. ‘ I’m so full of fun it seems as if nellher water, blood (1‘ mud, or even the presence of death can dampen, or chill my spir- ilsâ€" forgive me, dear Colonel ; I shall never forget thatyou have sav- ed my liveâ€"never, NEVER !’ And the ï¬rst thing which that wimh of :1 girl did while we lay there, was to burst out in a ï¬t of laughter. Did] forgive her? Did a don- key ever refuse hay. or a born to- per turn away from u julep’l I did forgive her! More than thatI knelt down there on that flowery sod, in all the glory of my muddy habili- ments, and swore thatI loved her harder than an untamed mustang could kick. swore that I would live for her, or die for herâ€"angel that she wasâ€"and sheâ€"sheâ€"whnt do you think she said while there I knelt and held her little hand in mine? That she reciprocated my pas- sion? No. sir! she didn’t do any such thing! She only saidâ€"‘Col- one], couldn’t you say it better if you had dry trowsevs on ?' J I cauedf What I should have done, I know not. but jast then a darkie hove in view who had caught our runaway horses. and the ight nflhat nigger snved me from any immediate act of desperation. We remoumed and Iescorted the lady back to town in humor on a par with my condition. . Just a momh nflerlhat lreceived an invitation to attend Clara’s wed. cling with Ketchmedad Trowsejr- ers, a mongrel Creole, half French and halfAmerican, that wasn’t ï¬t. to carry curl-papers for her hair, when compared w me. But who can account for woman’s taste? Not I, nor will 1 try! only should one of your fair readers fall in love with a rough hunter likeme, I would he astonished l and perhaps agreea- bly soâ€"â€"for I’m tired of following the [rail of life without any music to keep step to!