The Orangeburg news. (Orangeburg, S.C.) 1867-1875, August 26, 1871, Image 1
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SATURDAY MORNING, AUGUST 26, 1871.
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SIORE TRUTH THAN POETRY
HOW / III ? II AIX ST ON GOT
IMS WIFE.
>' C &}&C JOANNES.
' ! _
Pl?ii Tt.n v.. jj
The events ro"?vrd.id. i 1 ' secoifi j
eVayrter arc s'ill. fre-'i i:i Iii.; yiinds of i
rva'lyr. . jgg \
It wiil be remembend Mi it II a^ati^
Artliur had uvu\-\ iirnincreninnls Iii setlb*
lb<:ir ddVi.\ii!(y in an irlj lining Si ite, tIio j
Jhy ;?jih>iiil?J f?r wTiieh fiund ?.ur hero !
and bis friends uflbn I ho spot th it h il '
/Vit I"- ' j
been Kidecied. Kjjjht u*el iok til t?c ?
?it ton Wis tlie hour. Arthur had :
? ? M ? ? i
waiting fir rt>:i!'iM!?! fur Ins an? I
t?''Oiii.st. It w.ih 10 nVl.urk . 1 ilO ll.id I
tint made his jijipcjtfjiuc.o,. yet. .Eleven
und twclvo CnluQ ifid ?rj.il without
bringing hiiu.
'v.'uivly," Arthur .s.iid tu Iih friends,
"there must bo something the mat
ter with Clcnry. I wonder if the cou
founded oftWrs of the jaw have got in
tcUigonco of the affair here, too, und
have arrested him ?"
S>Rut nfthis moment n gentleman?one
pf'jtohry'e. friends?was seen in th<> dis
tance. Presently he armed where Ar
thar*wns, and without saying anything
other than good morning, handed a let
ter to one (if our hero's frionis.
tf'l* Was from Henry's second, to Ar
hur'.i own, nnd stated tliat tho furincr
takon very ill, iiud was, of
a/comtnt.
i? ASitke ibtelitgohcc wns communicated
to Aiduur, an expression ol* disappoint
ment clouded Iiis face.
Ho^apjjeftrcd to regard it as ouly n
prolongation of the day that was to set
tle his destiny.
There was no other alternative left
jtim now, but to return home, and wait
for the recovery of Henry.
?5 '
^V^eo ??bur and his friends rclorucd
to Claytufn, thoy pledged their eternal
frlflnd.shi|><'nod' service to each- other.
#e buds 'thetn good-bye with tho under
Standing that they wcro to inform him
as slum ns Ti*enr!y rocoverod, and make
? nrrangemnntH for the third tinjo for the
Isettlcoient of tho aflaii
nc called at tho (dork's desk iu the
hotel, and asked' if there wcro any let
ters,for him, in reply to which ho was
handed' t-hrco or four from the letter
boas.' t? 1*6***, ." {
W"' * *a*J?
Ho glauocd hastily ov?r tho sup ?rscrip
tioiis, and repaired, to his room.
There vfns o'no'of the number addross
cd in U lady's hand.
'?Can UU Kfff/? v" Arthur wondered.
When he got lo his loom, he made
liaMo to hfenH ittopsij, and oh, joy!
ibuitd that ifiljfefrotn the fair heroiue
of our atoi^-^^Bfc^ ?
It seems that the morning after the
interview botwoen Eliza and hor father,
she had beard of the difficulty that oc
curred belweuil Arthur- and lloory upon
the street, and their determination to
carry the affair further.
Tho news greatly grieved her.
If she wept tho night preceding that
morning, tho poignnucy of her Borrow
was ten fold stronger wheu thia intelli
gence reached her.
Oh ! tor one dear friend at that mo
ment to have sympathized with her. Hor
sister, Jessie, was aw.iy. and there was
no ono else she could look to for Bolacc.
Her brothers did not partake of her
grief, because thoy too were noxious to
havo their sitdor marry- Henry.
In this mood she sat down nod wrote
in a nervous hand the letter to Arthur
which he received upon his return.
It contained an entreaty to him to
avoid an encounter with Henry.
She told hlih that she hnd heard of
nil, and begged hi tu as ho regarded her
happiness, to leave Cl^yburn immediate
ly; that perhaps her father would
change bis mind-after awhile, and be
come reconciled in her attachment to
him.
Any Vow, it was h?r desire' that the
affair should not ho made to gain any
further publicity.
Other usior.'tnces wef?.givoti in ttyc
letter to Arthur of her |?Vu iV-r htm.
Aflvr rei iin:1. it. over stild .?vor s- vnrul
titueS, '?e f :l'/:d-d it, arid placed it in Ilia
,^mkrt. ? . > "
', )?? would Hki?* fm ituythiu- if be
c u:'', h.ive aeon her yo.sl on o in -ru be ?
t'tleaving.
Hut that c mid not !).?.. lie knew t!i.?
old uetitloiiriu would kep a close look
nut 'fur hi hi, and tfcnt if was scartjly
n ?>}lj!o for h'.t:i to even got a li.itd to
uei'.
So ho coticlu -i d to act in part tipn
her advice, iuirj depart for homo.
Three daya' travel brought hint to
that p\ace. A'tor exchanging greet
! ings witli hid father and the remai.oUur
Lof the family, ? and entering into :?
I leuglhy cxplantttioil of the cause of his
delay, he begged to bo excused, and re
tired to his chamber.
Here he wondered for the hundreth
time, what would he the result of his
love.
He almost longed for the moment to
[ come when a decisive issue would be
made between himself and Henry.
Auylhiug to sottlc the muttof.
His life was ono of misery to him, and
each succeeding day only added to it.
tortures.
The sapper hell aroused him from his
reverie, nnd he went down stairs.
At tho tahlo a thousand questions
were vapidly put to him by hia anxious
sisters, but his mind being id no tit abate
to hold a converse with any ono nt
that time, he hurried through supping,
and betook himself to his room again.
Hero he seated himself by a window
where ho had sat many, many night:? in
his more youthful days.
There was one s',p.r in the far-off vault
h
I of Heaven that ho singled out from all
? he rest, and wntehod it until he had
filled it with the image of Eliza.
For hours nod hours he gazed upon
it, as if anxious to learn from its silvery
bcauiH his destiny.
After awhile he fell upon the bod
and tried to sleep; hut there was no
such thing for him that night.
Wlron morning came, ho rose with
(bp fij'^t appaifAtie.! of the grey dawu of
day, and dressed himself
Tho wholo of that day was whiled
t\v?iy in a dreamy listles-i moo 1.
He was no plcisuro to. h/mvsclf or
nvy ouo elhi .
JUays j a'.s, d on, ami the all pervading
thought of his lifo--Eliza-?hung with
ju.it u:> touch bjfffViitpc* uoou his mind,
as he felt when fir*t separated from her.
At length a letior came from one of his.
friends.
That brought tho news thai Henry
was no better ; and that it wus thuUght
by hia physicians that he would "bevor
recover.
Kl'za had not been seen.
Her father blamed hor for Henry's
sickness, and sho confined herself to tho
house.
Arthur couldn't staud the idea of
Eliza's father blaming her.for a thing
for which ho whs wholly responsible, and
not her, so he addressed him u letter.
If it was ever received, uo mention
was over mado of it.
Tho next letter ho wrote was to Eliza
herself.
In it ho entreated and begged her to
be faithful j that ho would never chaugc;
and that he hoped nil things would yet
work out right, nud result tft. making
them happy.
11c asked her to remember the last
word she had uttered to him, a lid be con
stant; that ho would dare all things?
brave all dangers as long as he had the
consoling reflection to cheer him?that
she had told him to Utfpe.
Weeks passed on, and Arthur received
no answer to thi.> letter.
At lej^th hi wrote fcWSecond one,
and theo a month had elapsed ore ho got
a reply. ?
k was e if h. d in. thoTulldwttig lan
gt! ig? :
Cl.AYr.UUN,? ItT?. gv .
Mit AJ & ii?:> : ?
II 1 hivu VOttnd *1 y ? ? by :i <L r-ody
lug if v..-j. i tier c -.ritcr^ lJ * i - ?
me. Fno-thought t-tSt i W ? lei- on ?
particju yf y?Vitr e.-:e'?vii liy th ? urihnor
in which I h jvo acted, WjtiM ei m nij
intense piin. N i doubt my 1 >og silency
is ouve'..p.-.t i it iaj s'ei v fo v'iit. II;h1,|
I acred a* n.y heart .1 ufdt * 1. 1 w i :: I
ha v.* answered your lottdrs as sm:i as
they were roooiyed. Vnt 1 could qqt d ?
as I -a Uhod.
Girc.umstttuccs ovof which T liud ni j
will, forbade my carrying out tho promp- j
ting* I nij regard lor ynof happiness
Would to God that'you could properly
realize tho keenness of the anguish thoy
linve occasioned mo to f. el. You would
not thou d. cm h irdily . f uio. QllOO, dear
Mr Ainst n. 1 thonghtit a I'-ai lul tiling
todi?, but ir w I thi: k it hivre fearful
to live in n world so full op wickedness,
and surround.'d by hear s ho deeply
dyed iu sinful und sordid selfishness.
1 will norvo myself at once However,
to the hitter reality. And I may as
well be plain with you. It is with an
awful feeling of sorrow though tin'. 1
approach tVc subject. Hut I am I'orced
to consider you as one lost to me for
ovor ! In 4hat future wht-ro I had so
lately hoped to spend my lifo with you,
I see no uther alternativa now, but io
drag out my days iu misery, lint tlmsi
who forgo this choice upon nie, .shall
never rejoice over my uuhappine s. 1
will assume a charactir antagonistic to
my uatore, and keep my sorrow fast
shut up in my own t-ilont heart.
Perhaps the olian<rina scones aid vi-'
c'asitudcfl of Ufa will soon Hud for you
an oblivion of mo. He it so. I would
rather have your cnmpl-tc forgotfulnoss
ol irysolf, than to have you a par
taker in tin woes that overhang my
dreaded future. 1 Mouse think of my
father kindly. Ma^bc ho wi'l unc day
see his errors but it will bo too lato fur
nie, since all will soon be- ovor with me.
except some yo: r.s to hide deep in my
poof heart thu mjserj that i.s tube forced
upon ine, in my union with a man whom
I despise. May a kir.der fate than the
ono which has fashioned mine, so direct
your dcfct'ny as to h ad you to thai
felicity ol which I have ('.reamed iu vain.
Please do not writ ; to U?0 again.
Ymir sincere friend;
VAA'AA tiOYElt;
[ro.ntjnl'Kn in Dill m:\t i.ssi k]
A patent medieinc vendor in a couu
try village was dilating to u crowd upon
the Wonderful cflloieiwy of his iron bit
tors. "Why," said he, "Steve .Jenkins
had only taken tho bitters one wook
when ho was shoved into prison for mur
der, and what does he do but opeu a voiu
in his arm. take iron enough out of his
blood to make, a oiowbar, with which ho
pried the gates open und let himself out.
Tuet."
^LRp out of jymnm.
IJY JEAN IN cjk LOW*
Who is this 7 A careless little mid
shipman, idling ' about in a great city,
with hjs pockets full' of. money. lie
was waiting for tho^eoach ; <Jt comes up
presently nnd he gets on fcljc top of it,
and begins to look about hiui.
They goon leave the cTvmiicy tops
behind them ; his eye wanders with de
light over the harvest ftedds, ho smells
the honey-suckle in the hedgogrow, and
he wishes he was down arflong the ha
zel hushes, that he. might stfip them of
the milky tints; then. ho _#oe3 a great
wain piled up with baricyvarid h ? w'sh
ea ho was on the top' of ft; then the
checkered shadows of th?^. trees lying
across the white road, aid tl e 1 the
squirrel runs up a bough, and he cannot
forbear to whoop nnd hallo,' though lie
cannot chflso it to its nest.
The. other passengers 'jgffia delighted
with his simplicity and *?Slldlikc glee :
and they encourage him to titlk about
tho sea and tho ships, especially Her
Majesty's?wherein ho had the honor
to sail. In the jnrgi.ns of the aeas, he
describes the many perfections*.nnd en
lurges upon her peculiar advantages, he
theu confides to them h >w^a certain mid- ?
dy, having been ordered, to the ntest
hend as a punishmoot, hau seen, while
sitting on the top mast effcss-treo, gome
thing uncommonly like tho sea serpent.
hVtt fihdiug this hiot'T'efwved with in
credit! >us smiles, ho ? > ?"Ins to tell them
l?i?w lio'hopes that, sortie day. ho shall
bo pronu ted t i !; iVe eft iraq of the 1 oob.
TJiu passengers hope that he will .have
tft?l honor ; they h urn no doubl ta>t ho I
deserves it Ills t !i .-eks lhi-di with
pl.:hv.l.v to hoar t If em ittyjlfeo, and they }
ii.:V ? no tioti j.i in -wh it . oth.i. honor'-' ?
^TV?r^^**^^*?Ts^^rT^^^^^^^F^^^^^^^^^^ % ^^^^
Ttra b ?abh s't?pfi* toe ml-lsliipmin, I
with his liVdvli in his p->ck?Sta, gits rat
tling !ii-> :u mey a 11 singing. There is j
:i p ? kVbui iti standing by t '.ii d x?r of j
the village i ; t; -h- looks Careworn, and. !
Willi so'! ui iv. fir in the spring her bus-'
b.ihd went up to London to seek fur!
wo k. lid ;j ' s lor work, and she \v::s j
expecting soon to join bint there, when. '
a! i- ! a fei: > v Work tuen wrote her word i
how heTi'i.d 1,1 *-v11 ii an accident, how
lie vVafl very b:id and wanted his wife to ]
coma and irtrso him.
She docs not think of bogging, hut
seeing the boy's, eves attracted to her.
i he tvhhcs aco^ivtcgy, ami he withdraw,
his hand throws her n dois?ii sovereigns".
Blic looks at it with incredulous joy.
Mid Uie'i J-'ne looks at him.
'?It's all right,'' he says, and then the
coach starts up again, while fuli of grati
tude, she hires a cart to take her across the
country to the railway, and the next night
she mnysit by the bedside of her siek
husband.
The midshipman knows nothing about
that?and he never will.
The passengers go on talking?tho
little midshipman has told them who he
is. and win-re he is going. Hut there is
ono who has never joined in the conver
sation ; bo is n dmk looking ami restless
mat), be sits apart, ho sees the glittor o!
the boy more closely than he did In fore.
lie is a strong man, resolute and do
tormincd ; the boy with his p ickots full
of money will bo no match for him.
lie has told tho others that his lather's
h luso is the parsouage at V-, tho
coach goes within five miles of it, and he
meu'is to get cut at the nearest point,
and walk, or rather run over to his home
through tho great wood.
The man decides to get down ton, and
go through the woods; he will rob tho
"little midshipman; perhaps, if he cries
out and struggles, he will do worse.
The boy, he thinks, will have DO thulines
against him ; it is quite impossible that
he tan escape j tllQ way is lonely, end
the sun will be down.
No. Tlo to seemed indeed little
chunci a of escape. The hnlfdlodgoel
bird just fluttering down from his nest
had no tuoto c ha oca ngain.-i the keen
eyed hawk, than the little, light-hearted
sailor boy will have ugaiust him.
And now they reach the village where
tho hoy is to alight. He wished the
passoilgors good evening, and runs light
ly down between the scatto'red hotfscs.
The man has also got down and is fol
lowing.
Tho path lies through the village
church yard; lliete is evening service,
and the door is wide open, for it's warm
The little midshipman steals up the poreh
lovk j iu and li.ilcua. The cUrrymaii has
just risen from his knees in the pulpit,
;md is giving out his text.
Thirteen" mouths have passed, since
tho boy was in a home of prayer; ond
a feciing of pleasure induced him to
stand and listen.
Uo hoars tho opening sentences ?jfHhc
sermon j and then he remembers his
home and comes softly out of tho porch,
full of cahn nnd serions pleasure. The
clergyman has reminded him of his
father, and his careless heart is filled
with tho echoes of his voice and of his
prayers. Ho thinks on what the cler
gyman said of the care of our Heaven
ly Father for us; he remembers how,
when he left homo, his father prayed
that he might bo preserved through
every danger; he docs not rcniomber
any daugcr that he has exposed to ex
cepting in tho great storm, but ho'is
grateful ho is come in safety, nnd he
hopes whenever he shall ho in dangor,
which ho supposes he rholl be some day,
ho hopes that then the providenco of
God will watch over him and protect
him. And he presses onward to tho en
trance of the wood.
'?Arc not two sparrows," ho hears,
"sold for a farthing? and not nnc shall
fall to the ground without your Father's
notice. Hut the hairs of your head arc
all numbered. Fear not, therefore, ye
arc of more value than many sparrows."
The man is there before him. Ho
has pushed into the thicket, and cut a
heavy stake; he comes out, falls Into
the path and follows him. It is too
light ist present for his deed of darkness
and too neor the entrance of the wood,
l ot lie^knows that shortly the path will
brauch "'I into two. and tho right one
I'm- ilie boj to take will be dark and
lonely.
But what prompt? tho little midship
man, when not fifty rods from the
branching Of iho pith, to break into .1
* si'. fton rh iiT '-iris not ' fc af?htr'ifdvcr
dreams i'*f danger, {v?mo. sud lcu im
pulse, ar (some wild wish for home makes
hin? da.di off suddenly from his saunter,
with a whoop a. d a bound. On he goes
as if running a rare; the path bonds
sod tho man loses sight of him.
"Dot 1 Miall oatch him yet," he
j thinks; -he ChilUOt keep up tho pace
long." 'J he buy has nearly reached the
place where the path divides, when ho
' puts up a white owl, th.It can scarcely
. fly and it goes whirling on, close to the
, groumi before him. Ho gains Upon it.;
anolhor tnoment and it will be his. Now
h i ts the start again ; thoy come- to
the branching ol tho pntllSj and the bird
gnoe down the wrong one.
The temptation to follow* it is too
strong to he resisted; he knows that
somewhere deep in tho wood, there is a
cross tiack ho has left ; it is ouly to run
a little faster nud ho shall bo home
nearly as sonn.
On he rushes; the path takes a bend
ami he is just out of sight, and his pur
suer comes where the paths divide. The
boy has turned to the right?ho tikes
tho. left, nnd the faster they run the
farther they are asunder*.
Tho white owl still loads him on ; the
path gets darker uud narrower ; at last
ho finds that ho has misled it altogether,
and his foot arc on the soft ground. He
flounders about among the trcea and
stumps vexed with himself, and panting
after hit race.
. A. .^ . ..v. .?<??
nnd pushes on n-? fast ns he can. The
ground begins sensibly to descend; ho
has lost his way?hut ho Keeps bcari..,,
to his left ; and though it is now dark,
ho thinks he must must roach the main
path sonnr-r or biter.
Ho does not know this part of the
wood, but runs on. "Oh, little mid
shipman ! why did you chase that owl;
if you had kept the path of the dark
mac behind y*m, there v.a chance that
you might outrun him ; or if ho had
(ivertaken you, some passing wayfarer
might have heard your cries, and como
iu save you. Now you arc running
straight i n to your, death, for the forest
water is deep and at tho b ttom of this
hill. O that tho nii'on might come out
and show it to you !
The ino?n is under n thick canopy of
heavy black ohm Is, and thero i? not a
to glitter on ?ho w>tor ntu} maka it
. visible. Tho fern is soft under his feel
us ho runs and slips down tho slooping
hill. At last he strikes against a stono,
stumbles a.:(I falls. Two minutes more
und he will tall Iq?o the black water.
lleydcy !'' cries the boy, "what's
this? Oh, how it tears my hands 1 Oh,
ihifl iso thornbush i Oh. my anus ! I
can't get free 1"
[Jo struggles nnd pants. "All this
conies of leaving tlio path," he says;
"I shouldn't have cared for rolling down
if it hadn't been for this bush. The
fern was soft enough. I'll never stay
away in a woods nt night agaiu.?ThorO,
free at last I And my jacket -nearly torn
off uiy back."
With a good deal of patience and a
great many.scratches, he got.free of the
thorn that hud arrested his progress
when hia foot were within a yard of the
water, manages to scramble up the bank,
and makes the best of hin way through
the dark dreary wood.
And now, as the cloud* move slowly
onward, tho moon shows her face on the
black surface of the water, and the little
white owl comes and hoots and flutters
over it like a wandoring snow drift. But
is io the wood again, and knows nothing
of the danger he has escaped.
All this time the dark passenger fol
lows tho main track, nnd bclievos that
the boy. is heforo him. At last he hears
?a crashing of dead boughs, and presently
the little midshipman's voice, not twenty
yards before him. Yes, it is true; the
boy is in the cross track. He will pass
the cottago iu the wood directly, and
after tnat his pursuer will come upon
h i m.
The boy bounds into the path, but as
ho sees the cottage, he is thirsty nnd so
hot. that he must nsk tho inhabitants if
if thoy can sell hi u a gla-s of alo.
Ho enters without ceremony. "Ale?"
says the woodman, who is sitting at his
supper. "No, we have no alo ; but per
haps my wife can give thee a drink of
milk. Conio in."
So he comes iu and abuts the door,
and while; \q 18 waiting for tho milk
(oobvtcni pass.
Thoy are the footsteps of the pursuer,
who goes on with his stake in his hand,
angry and impatient that he has uot yot
Oume up with. hhii.
Tho woman goes to the dairy for the
milkr nnd the boy thinks that she is gone
a long time. Ho drinks it, fliauks her,
and then takes his leave.
Taster and faster the man runs after
him. It is very dark. but. thore is a yol
. Io?/ streak in the sky, whore the moon is
plowing up a furrowed mass of grey
cloud.* and on?i or two st irs are blinking
through the trees.
Fast the boy follows, and fast the man
runs on, with tho weapon in his hand
i Suddenly he hears the joyous wdioop?
uot before, hut behind him. He stops
and listens noiscsly.?Yes, it is so. He
pushes and raises \\\< Make, when the
boy shall p;>9S. On ha comes running
lightly, with his hands in his pockets.
A sound strikes nt the same iustant on
the ears of both; and tho boy turns back
from tho very jaws of death to listen.?
It is the sound of wheels, aud it draws
rapidly nearer.
A man comes up, driving, a gig.
"Halloa," ho says, in n loud, cheerful
voice. "What, benighted, youngster?"
"Oh, is it you, Mr. D--?" says the
boy. "No, I'm not benighted; or, at
any rate, I know my way out of the
woods."
The man drew back farther among
the bushes.
"Why, bless the boy," says the farm
er, "to think of our meeting in this
way 1 The parson told mo he was io
hopes of seeing thee same day this week.
in. ? . ?u . - .' tik\ ** mi. f."- - .1 -.
H *?;--??-? - ? ?--?? 4 r -
to bo in this time of ni^ht."
"Lone?" says tho boy laughing. "I
dou't mind that; and, with you the way,
it's ns safe as the quarter deck."
So ho gets into the farmer's gig, and
is once more out of reach of the pursuer.
Bui the man knows that ?!><? farmer's
house is u tpunrtcr of a mile nearer than
the parsonage, and in that quarter of a
mile there is still a chance of committing
robbery.^ He determined ?tili to make
tho attempt, nnd cuts across the wood
with Buoh rapid strides that he reaches
the farmer's gate just ns the gig drives
up to it.
"Well, thank you, farmer," says the
midshipman, as hs prepares to get down
from the wagon.
"1 wish you good night, gentlemen,"
says the man when ho passes.
"t.Jood nicht, friend," the farmer ro
plies. "1 say, my bo\, it's n dark bight
enough ; I have a mind to drive you on
to tho parson. and hear the rest of
that long tale of yours about the sca
scrpcut.
The little wheels go on again. They
pail the man, and he stands still in the
road to listen till the sound dies away.
He flings hisstnko into thehedge,and.
?uo* back again. 11 ii uvil pu*pOM| have
??=.-^-j?.i f wt ? 'wiBir:wa ? , '
all been frustrated?the titoughtless boy
baa baffled him at every step,
And now the little midshipman Is at
home. The jojful meeting has taken
place, and when tbey have admired bis
growth, and decided whom he 2? like,
aud measured 1. in height on tire window
frame, aud seen htm eat his supper, they
begin to question him about bis advei*
tun?, more for tiro pleasure of hearing
him tslk than from aoy curiosity.
'?Adventures 1" saya the boy, seated
between his father and mother on the
cola. "W by, ma, I did write you aa ac
count of the voyage, and there is noth
ing else to tell. Nothing bappened to
day?at lernst nothing particular.''
"i'ou came by the- coach we toid yoV
of?" asks his father.
"Oh, yes, papa; and when wo got
twenty miles, there en me ups beggar
while ve were changing hor*esr tad I
threw down (as I thought) a sUHfigr;
but as it fell, I saw that it was a sov
ereign. She was very honest and showed
mo what it was, but I didn't ta&e it back
for you know, mamma, it is a long tine
since I have given anything to say*
body."
"Very true, my boy,his mother ao
swered, "but you should not be earilsss
with your money, and few beggars are
worthy objects of charity."
"1 suppose you got down at.Lao cross
roads V says the cider brother*
"Yes, apd went through tho wocds. I
Should have, been home sooner if I had
uot lost my way."
"Lost yonr way I" says bis motherr
alarmed ; "my boy, you should not have
left tho path at dusk."
"Oh, ma,77 says the little midshipcan,
with a smile, "you*re always thinking we
are in danger. If you could see we
sometimes sitting at tho jib-boom end, or
across the main top-mast-cresa-treey ye?
icoulil be frightened. Bat what danger
can there be in a wood ?"
"Well, my boy," she answers, **I don't
wish tobe over-anxious, and make xaj
children uncomfortable by my fears,
W hat did you stray from the path? for V
uOnly to catch a little owl, raorasoa ;
but I didu't catch her, after all. I got
a roll down from a bank aud. caught say
jacket on a thorn buab, wbieh was rather
unlucky. Ah! throe large boles I see
in my sleeve. Aud so I scrambled Up
agniu and got into the path, and asked at
the cottage for some beer. What a long'
time the woman kept me to be sure. I
! thought it would never come. Bui very
I soon aftov Mr. D- drove up in Us
gig ; and ho brought me on to the fpk&J*
"Aod so, this account of yoar adven
tures being brought to a dose," Us
father says, "we discover that there was
uo adventure* to tell."
"No, papa nothing happened, noth
ing particular, I mean."
Nothing particular. If they eouhS
have known, they would have thought
lightly in comparison of :he dangers of
the jib-boom's end and the main toy
wort-cross-trees. But they did not know,
any more than we do, of the dangers
that hourly beset us.
Some few dangers we arc aware of,
and we do what we esn to provide
against them; but for the greater por
tion onr oyos behold wo cannot see. We
walk securely under His guidance, with
out whom "not a sparrow CtUeth to the
ground;" -nd whoa we have had es.
-.... ?I..., .1. -......),- ? 4i?h ' 1 a*
we come and say, perhaps, that nothing
has happened-?at least nothing par
ticular.
It is not well that our minds should
be much, exercised about these hidden
dangers, since they are so, and so great
that do Immun nrt or f<rra*i<rn.t n?n ?r*
vent them. But it is very well that we
should reflect constantly on tho loving
Providcoco which watches every foot*
step of a track always balancing, on tines
and uternity ; and that such reflections
should mako us happy and afraid-??
afraid of trusting our souls too mtsch to
any earthly guide or seourity?happy
from tho knowledge that there is one
with whom we mny trust them wholly,
and with whom tho very hairs of oar
head arc nil numbered.
Without such trust how can we rest
or be at peace; but with it wo may Say
with the Psalmist. "I will both lay ne
down in peace, and bleep, for then,
Lord, only ma k est mo dwoll in safety V*
A city lady who wont into theeonntry
to beep bouse this summer, wanted to
dyo some yarn, aad on being informed
that Mrs. Jones died with dyptfeeria ehe
sho went to a drug store and seked for
l2n ass worth of dipihaiia Ui dje