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n Advance.A V . SR I DVTiDTSOTENRIGHTS, DEMOCRACY, N~EWS, LITERATURESINEADTEARS . WM-l. J. rFRANCIS, Proprietor. 44 6010-41 IDI InjtV Advance.' VOL. V. SITRITEIIVILLE, SO 'Us M1AY 14, IS51. The Factory Girl. BY T. 8. ARTHUR. There was something wrong about the affairs of old Mr. Bacon. His farm, the best tilled and most pro ductive in the neighborhood, began to show evidences of neglect and un fruitfulness; and that he was going behindhand in the world, was too ap parent in the fact, that, within two years lie had sold twenty acres of good meadow, and, moreover, was under the necessity of borrowing three hundred dollars on a mortgage of his landed property. And yet, Mr. Bacon had not laid aside his habits of industry. le was up, as of old, with the dawn, and turned not his feet homeward from the field until the sun had taken his parting glance from the distant hill-tops. A kind.hearted chcerful-minded man was old Mr. Bacon, well liked by all his neighbors, and loved by his own household. His two oldest children died ere reaching the age of manhood; three remained. Mary Bacon, the eldest of those who sur vived, now in her nineteenth year, had been from earliest childhood her father's favorite; and, as she advan ccd towards womahilood, she had grown more and more into his heart. ft t In his eyes she was very beautiful: and his eyes, though partial, did not deceive hin very greatly, for Mary's face was fair to look upon. We have said that Mr. Bacon was a kind-hearted and chcerful-mninded man. And so lie was; kind-hearted and cheerful, evqn though clouds were beginning to darken above him, and a sigh from the coming tempest was in the air. Yet not so uniform ly cheerful as of old, though never orthechange hatas in progress, the change from prosperity to adver sity, lie did not seem to be pabi'lly conscious. Yes, there was something wrong about the affairs of old Mr. Bacon. O A habit indulged through many years, had acquired a dangerous f influence over him, and was gradually destroying his rational ability to act well in the ordinary concerns of life, As a young man, Mr. Bacon drank "temperately," and he drank "tem perately," in the prime of life and now, at sixty, lie continued to drink 'teinperately,' that is, in his own estimation. Thiere were many, however, who had reason to think differentlv. But Mr. Bacon was no bar-room lounger; in fact, lie rarely, if ever, went to a public house; It was in his own homes and among his household treasures, that lie placed to his lips the cup of confusion. The various temperance reforms had all found warm advocates aniong his friends and neighbours; but MAIr. Bacon stooud aloof. lie would have nothing to do in tiese matters. "Let them jo temperance socie ties who feel themselves in danger," was his good natured answer to all argiment or persuasion addressed to himii oin the subject. ie didi not opp)ose notr ridicule the movement, le thought it a good thing; only, he had in it no persoital interies t. Anud so Mr. Bacon went on drink ing "temperately,' until habit, from claiming a mnodera.te indulgence, he gani to make, so it seemed to his friends, rather unreasonale demands. Besides this habit of driniking, Mr. Bacon had another habit, that of in dustry; and, what was unusual, the former did niot abate the latter. though it must be (owned that it sadly interfered with its elliciency. le was up as we have said, with the dawn, and all the (lay hc was busy at work; but. somehow or other, his land did not produce as liberally a~*s in former timecs, and there was slowly creeping over everything nround him ant aspect of decay. Moreover, h1 did not mranuage, as well as formierly, thto selling part of' his business. In fact, his shrewdness of mind was gone. Alcohol had con fusod his brain. Gradually he was retrogradhing; and( while more thtan half conscious of the rutin that was in advance of him, lie was not fully e enough awake or sjseriously alarmed, as to begzin anxioimly to seek for the cause of imponding evil, And so it wont on until Mr'. Bacon suddlenly found' himself in the midst of real troubILe. "T'1he value of his -farm, whlichi, aifter partig with the twecnty acres of meadow land, contained bul twenty-five acres, had been yearly diminishing in consequence of bad culture, and defective management of his stock had reduced that until it was of little consequence. The holder of the mortgage was a man named Dyer, who kept a tavern in the village that lay a milk distant from the little white farm. house of Mr. Bacon. When Dyer commenced his liquor selling trade, for that was his principal business, he had only a few hundred dollars; now he was worth thousands, and was about the only man in the neighbor. hood who had money to lend. His loans were always made on bond and mortgage, and, it was a little re markable, that he was never known to let a sober, industrious farmer or store keeper have a single dollar. But, a drinLing man, who was grad. ially wasting his sutstance, rarely ipplied to him in vain; for he was the 1unninig spider watching for the silly ly. More than one worn out and run-down farm had already come into iis hands, through the foreclosure of nortgages, at a time of business de >ression, when his helpless victims :ould find no symnathizing friends tble to save them from ruin. One day, in mid-winter, 3s Mr. Bacon was cutting wood at his rather )oorly furnished wood pile, the avern-keeper rode up. There was omnething in his countenance that ent a creeping sense of fear to the teart of the farmner. "Good morning. Mr. Dyer,' said me. "Good morning,' returned the avern-keeper, formally. Ilis usual mile was absent from his face. "Sharp day, this.' "Yes, rather keen.' "Won't you walk in and ~tako PAN"Uis yos. I -h--nm! There was a pause. "Mr. Bacon.' The farmer's eye sunk beneath the :old steady look of Dyer. "Mr. Bacon, I guess I shall have o call on )you for them three hundred lollars,' said the tavern keeper, in a irm voice. "Can't pay that mortgage now, Jr. Dyer,' returned Bacon, with u roubled expression; "no use to think & it.' "Rather a cool way to treat a main fter borrowing his money. I told rou whlen I lent it that I uiglit want t at almost any time.' Oh! no, Mr. Dyer. It was under tood, distinctly, that from Four to six nonths notice would be given,' re lied Mr. Bacon, positively. "Preposterous'' ejaculated the avern-keeper. "Never thought of uch a thing. Six months notice, mdeed!' "That was the agreement,' said BIr. acon, firmly. "Is it inl the bond?' "No, it was verbal, between us.' Dyer shook his head, as he an "iNo, sir-! I never make agree nents of that kind; the money was to be pmaid on dleimnd, and I have riddlei >ver this mornmiing to make the de' md!' "It is midwinter. MIr. Dyer,' was replied ini a husky voice. "Well?' "'You know that a small farmer like me, canmnot he ini possessionm, a this season, of the large sum you de manrd.' "TIhat is your affair, Mr. Bacon, I want my money now, and must hmav< it.' There was a tone of menaee in th<n wvay this was saidl that Mr.. Bacot fully understood. "'I haven't thirty dollars, muiel less three hundrcd, in my possession, said lie. "Biorrow it then.' 'Impossible! money has not heel so scarce for year-s. Every onei complaining.' "Yon'd better make the ellert, Mr Bacon, I shall he sorry to piut you tI any trouble, but my money will hav to be forthcoming.' "You will niot enter uip thme mor gage?' said thme farmer. "it will certainly come to that ui less you can pmay it.' "Tihat is what I call oppression rneturned Mr. Bacon, in momentar indignation, for the utterance t which he was as ciickly repentant. "Good morning," said Dyer, nudden ly turning his hrorse's head, an riding off at a brisk trot. For nearly five minutes, old Mr. Bacon stood with his axe resting on I the ground, lost in painful thought. Then lie went slowly into the house, and sitting down before the fire, let his head sink upon his breast, and v there mused on the trouble that was closing around him. But there came no ray of light, piercing the thick darkness that had fallen so suddenly. Nothing was then said to his family E on the subject, but it was apparent to all that something was wrong, for i the lips that gave utteranco to so c many pleasant words, and parted so a often in cheerful smiles, were still I silent.' "Are you not well, to-day?' asked I Mrs. Bacon, as the family gathered p around the dinner-table, and she re marked her husband's unusually so ber face. "Not very well,' he replied. "What ails you, fathier?' said Mary, with tonder concern in her voice; and her eyes were turned upon him with aflectionate earnest- t ness. "Nothing of much consequence, child,' was answered evasively. "I k shall be better after dinner.' I And as Mr. Bacon spoke lie poured 1 out a larger glass of brandy than i usual-he always had brandy on the table at dinner time-and drank it a off. This soon took away the keen c cdge of suffering from his feelings, la and lie was able to affect a measure of cheerfulness: But he lid not de. t ecive the eyes of Mrs. Bacon arid s Ma r v. "I wonder what ails father!' said Mary, as soon ,as she was alone with t: her mother. "I don't know,' answered Mrs. f< Bacon, thoughtfully, "he seems trou- b bled about something.' tl "I saw that}-. Dje!!Lt morning. 0 "You did!' Mrs. Bacon spoke With a new manifestation of interest. in "Yes; and I thought, as I looked s, at lin out of the window, that lie e appeared to be argiy about some- g lhing' Mrs. Bacon did not reply to this b remark. Soon after, on meeting her hitisbanid, she said to him. It "What did Mr. Dyer want this morning i?' "'Smnething that lie will not get,' v replied Mr. Bacon. IT "The montey he loaned you?' a "Yes.' "it's iipossible to pay it back r now, in the (lead of winter, saidI Mrs. v Bacon, in a troubled tone of voice, "lie ought to know that.' "'Anid lie does know it.' "What did you tell him?' 1 "'I'lat to lift the mo#rtgage now was out of the question .' "\on't lie be troublesoie? You remeinmbr how lie acted towards poor old Mr. l'eabodv.' ",1 know hjs a hard-hearted, selfish man. i don't beleve that there is a spark of humainity about him. But he'll scarcely go to ex treities with me. 1 don't fear that.' ' Iiii Ve thireatent: 'Yes. Thit I hardly think that lie was in earnest.' H ow far this last remark of old Mr. Bacon was correct, the f'ollowintg brief coniversationi will show. It took p~lac'e between I yer andu a mtiserable pe'ttifo'ggintg lawyer, in IBrookville, 'I've gilt a mortgage on old Bacn's farm that I wish eniteredl upl,' said the taveinu-keeper, on calling at the lawyer-'s of lice. 'Can't lhe pay it ol?' inquired Gr iant "Of course not. ie's been runingi( down for the last six or seven years, and is now on his last legs.' 'Atnd so you meani to trip him up b1 efore Ito falls of himself.' Tlhe lawyer soein an uinfecliung tone and with asintister smiile. "If you please to say so,' returned Dver. 'I've wanted thtat jform of huis for- somie time past. Wheit I took the mnort gage on it my ohjeet was fist a simpl1e intves tmetnt at legal interest; you knowv that I can do better with -money than six per centt a year.' "I1 should think you could,' responded the lawyer-, with a chuckle. "When I loaned Bacon three i hundred dollars, of course I never expected to get the sum back again. i- I understood, perfectly well, thmat di sooner or h.ater the mortgageo would huave to be enitered1 up.' 'And the farm becodes vyurs fut ialf its real value.' t ' ai ly' "Are you not stri:.h:r too soon? uggested the lawyer "No.' 'Sorme friend m'y 'an him lithc iMount.' Dyer shook ,is heid. 'It's a tight tiami . Brookville.' 'I know.' 'And still better'qr mly purp's, aid Dyer, in a low, ?neaningii, voiec drunkards have few friedl; nlue [I fact, willing to ri- their mon11ev in them. Put the rgens ti) Eae .nd his farm will droi into my hald ike a ripe cherry.' 'You can harolyicall 'Lieon . )runkard. You neier see hihl sag. ;ering about, nor buiging in bat 'Do you remember 1is farm Eevell ,cars agro?' 'Perfectlyv well.' 'Look at it iow. 'There's a difierenje, certainly.' Isn't there. WhAl the reas*i 01 bis?'/ 'Intemperince, Isuppese.' Drunkenness." said the tavern. eeper. 'That 13 the riglt word. Ie don't spend muchlin bar-rvn. ut look over his stoiebill aid yuu'T nd rum a large iote0' 'Poor Bacon! 1;e , )id Sor A man,' remarked the lawver. 'I an't help feeling soriy fur him11. H lc3 is own worst eneng9/L 'I want you toiih, this rattei irough in the (llCO Apussible t im, lid Dyer, in a sha'-'irmi vfice. 'Very well. Id y V sin . 'And I know mi 'eturned thc Lvern-keeper. On the nextd .,Bacon wa rnally notifiedt ceedings had !en instituted a tion o1 to mor'tgag It er t see. U)ser. 'You cannot ran to press this atter on to the utmost extrenity id lie, onl meeting' the tavern-heep r, the hard vspect of w hose featrce :iae him little ro'pm fmr hoe. 'I certainly mean to get my tin1 undreddollairs.' was repliecl. 'Can you not wit until after niex arrest? 'I have Aiiehdy tld vu that I ant ily morff iow,' sacl I yvi ith affected anger. '1f you can) "' e, well; if not, I will 'et my own 1 id of the Sheritf.' -That is a hard sayvingj, Mr. Ier, ettirned the fainrull, in a si oice. 'Nevertheless, it is a truel onice liern(I Baenn, true .; ;-,l t,!.' 'I haven't the mUciyii, V16 Cn.11 orrow it, Mr. l)ver.' 'Your imtisfor't mi e 1:nt imtine. Thou1 mu11st say, it i.- :I little strn;e 'What is stranlge' 'That a nui w L", lived in tl,* ommunlllitke as inne! :1,.z h~v, a lid a fieri l w ill12i; t 1 " 1 hlu h undrel doillirs t. :.. idi fIt-m fl he SleitffU. Thees s .methiar n w niore dleel .1y thim eve. .n eeb'lle elf crt at rmcniiance ni. tim to Grtanit the I: av'er, who hi Loutti diiot i1ohh.1 -M hat to do so wiou'd be u..l rb lleguilar lioie s nt enL 11)0n for tlIe setlement i~f*.- ,i peedlily ais polb~.le. It wa a~lli 'aini that Mlr. iaeun sought to b 'r in his firm, anl liht hht e :.u. 'ewv had tmney ti ate, andith. whlo oiuild have adlvanceel the smt whtere there' was littl' hpie if' :1u the amuounit hel; ag~ain exi''1- by e eeuticin ant sale. For~ \lr. lIe all his naeighburs knew it. TheL e'ffect of. this triubihli (n t l li ceerf'ul teimpieri gav plIIace to si lont moiod uiness, weni int .arti states of sohnuetv. which were now rare occen ee, and lbe lost all int est in things aroud himit. A great part of his timei was1 tspent int wanti ing restlessly about his hiouse or fani but lie put his hand to scarcely mt work. 1)eenly ditennecd wcro Mrs. 11 Con and1 Mary. Each of them had c:aled, at dif'rent tines on Mr. Dyer il the hop e of moving him by persua sion to turn froin his purpose. But only in one way would lie a1g, r"Ie to an1 m1n'aCble settlement, and that was, by taking the firm for the m ortqrage and tihree 11111(1Ired (1011 cash ; by which me1(anls he wouldi come int4)os-ession of' property worth fr-om twelve to fifteen hundred dol lr3. Thii offer lie repeated to Mary, who was the last to call upon him in the h ope of turning him from his pur. 'No! Mr Dyer,' said the young :,iirl firinly, even while tears were inl le2r lles. My father w':l not let the p!ace go at a thind its real vahic.' 'Ie over-estiiates its worth,' re plied1 Dyer, with some impatience, 4.1, 11 I 1i fill thzi. out when it comes und.-r ihe hammenr.' 'Y'ni will not, I am sure you will not, sacrific : my fiather's little place, the liime o hii children,' said Mary, i a aa "Ippenllhug. voice. 'J shall certainly let things take their c'mrs., replied the ti' vern.-keep er. 'Tell your Iather, fromui me, that lhe has nothing to hope for from any chane ini imy p urp5O, maln that lie It ' I u11. . V) iure el,6rts to inifli. 11e. 1Ce. I w\ill buy the place, as I ai 4 fr !4ix in ilredl dollars, its full * alue, or wil 'ell it for iliy claim.' A .a:Ing thi' tie Iman left, ab. uly, i, : mwlieb his initer. v'''u:1 AEn-y was held she lI I. o ining any iunpressiion on hi' 4 lin<-, Ir ' 0111 retired from t'. hi , ::zinii with a sad heart, hir wav Lonward. Never before l154 .Mry', a gentle-hearted, quiet, retiring girl, been fore d into such rough egitat with the world at any i his eso iOintercess' for ed Mary as 0 10 apple of his eye., ani i he h.ved hiin with a tender sel doed mt etion T) him, .he we a e I and bautifil lwer', aId evei tht ughJ hl; u Lnahil becOmle, Inl 1 I Crn'. li r.: degrad ed and debas dl b' intim;.erance tlhere 1as in it a peik iinet4 o pi,to'etionm when any thi '4 r ' i be his5 clS hibl. S; iI tioughit fidly, wi th her Ill m '[I W.. he 11;1-un . did MarV Em upusu herwayhomneward; m:1 he ws ni;t aware (I the ap im11 o f tes bhiId her, until mi 41 iY her si1e and pro n u t''e:I hIle' liaine. r. i reen:' said she, in momerita I uI 4i', auin:; as she luoked up . ( h4i was a farmer ill easy e t.w e elegant and nve 'ra.n her fathier's resi aphab 4i:l, thle rieh 1 .14 a theneibhhodofBro . Ix I c i I I li y I f in aIl00 - 4r1 . li r. 1 -l in w l ' - :u 5 .a :im for aii hi'tIi- ex b ' A h i'' had dr ii . t ait 'u'' h'~ isr v141 j~~ he d taken ltnee ('a44 t4 l rather sh aily forl~ one d Th' cli r' ut 'ed 11 qu iil or , Iuv a :i'he laue, and lfte hen eI a the ci nti nnceof 4r ree Th Dt :4 Ihe had been thinkinu 14 t him, and. just' atl ein e hii~~'I I iin i'e t ' .i , h4hfully mad e ~2! il her In t cal upoin thim'blef.r he it I 'her he1~iii. '41i 5 re.d,4' bu sheLI%' enli . "1 ' Cin m.ve oni1 stillSbei Co cr~ Is 'hiSr iaid were Gree -5 44 i l or \lber in i'i, iuble . I t 0uH oni N ' ~ 1.04. 31arykiO% with. ~~tots ut 1I . iiizleen, in a Voie t'''hie 1 a ralhe enoug. tn otd. . h \el,3ay w aiity ther's place for three hundred dollars, and is going to sell it.' 'Mr. Dyer is a hard man, and your father should not have placed himself in his power, remarked Mr. Green. 'Unhappily, he is in his power.' -So it seems. Well, what dd you wish me to do in the case?' 'To lend me three hundred dollars;' said Mary, promptly. Thus encour aged to speak she did not hesitate a moment. 'Lend you three hundred dollars!' returned Mr. Green, rather surprised it the directness of her request. 'For what use?' 'To pay off this mortgage, of course,' replied Mary. 'But w'io will pay me back my mo ney?' inquired Mr. Green. 'I will,' said Mary, confidently. 'You! Pray where do you ex. pect to get so much money from?' 'I expect to earn it,' was firmly answered. Mr. Green paused, and turning to wards Mary, looked earnestly into her young face that was lit up'with a beautif'ul enthusiasm. 'Earn it did you say?' 'Yes, sir, I will earn and pay it back to you, if it takes a lifetime to do it in.' 'Iow will you earn it, Mary?' Mary let her eyes fall to the ground, and stood for a moment or two. Then looking up, she said, 'I will go to Lowell.' 'To Lowell.' 'Yes, sir.' 'And work in a factory?' 'Yes. sir.' Mr. Green moved on again, but ic silence, and Mary walked with an anxious heart by his side. For the distance of several hundred yards th assed along and not a wod was ary Wi re pond, an t conitin ued until they came to a point in the road where their two ways di verged. 'IHave you thought well of this, Mary?' said Mr. Gieen, as lie paused here, and laid his hand upon a gate that opened into a part of his farm. - Why should I think about it, Mr. Green?' replied Mary. 'It is no time to think, but to act. Hundred of girls go into factories, and it will be to me no hardship, but a pleasure, if thereby I can help my father in this great extremity.' 'Is lie aware of your purpose?' 'Oh, no sir! no!' 'lie would never listen to such a thin'..' 'Not for a moment.' 'Theni will you be right in doing what lie inuist disapprove?' 'It is done for his sake. Love for him is my prompter, and that will bear me up even against his displeas 'it lie may prevent your going. Mary.' Not if you will do as I wish.' 'Leu'l me three hundred dollars on try proiis.' to y on that I will imme dliately go to Lowell, enter a factory, tand remain at work until the whole sois paid back again from my earn III'S. 'Well.' 'I will then take the money and pay otT the mortgage. This will re Slease father fromu his debt to Mr, l Dyer, andi~ bring me in debt to you. 'I seeC!' 'Father is an honest and an hon j ouralc tman.' -lie is, Mary,' said Mr. Green. 1 llis voice slightly trembled, for lhe was touched by the words of the gen S|tle girl.' ale to no vou th< of ho h~ee e u~uY SiStat'es frit et and the BbritIsh Nigat ' Macedonian, wvasjgtten by an ,ob d sailor, an Englishman, who was. -e hoy on board the Britiskt ship at th - Itime of the battle. His namne'l ISamuel Leech, andi. lia simple, truti a- fmul narrativo, poassss' greatei. d4 gree f 9fterestthan the mor bor. pa efttt of rofessional autbors Tib& bath 'came, and breght with ,iCT stittAreeze. We usually mad .eisorif Violiday of thiared day. After breakfast, it was' C m mon to muster the entire crew be spar deck, sometimes in blue Jackets and white trowsors;- and, at ether times in blue jackets,.. scarlet vests, and blue or white trowsers, with our bright anchor buttons'gliancing irthe sun, and our black, glossy hats, or namented with black ribbons, and the name of our ship' painted on them. After muster we frcquently bad church service read by the captain; the rest of the day was - devoted' to idleness. But we were destined to spend the Sabbath just introduced to the reader, in a very different man ner. We had scarcely finished .4akasi before the man at the mast 'head shouted. 'Sail ho!' The captain rushed upon ddck, exclaiming, 'mast head, there!' 'Sir?' 'Where away is the sul?' The precise answer to this ques tion I do not recollect, but the cap tain proceded to ask, 'what does she look like?' 'A square rigged vessel, sir, was the reply of the look out. After a minute, the captain shout ed again, 'mast head there! 'Sir?' 'What does she look like?' 'A large ship, sir, standing towards us. -By this time most of the erew 'Were on deck, eagerly straining -4eIr eyes to obtain a glimpse 'of te' ap proaching ship, and murm eir opinions to each other onli ble character. iTh Cae the 'A large frat6 tbeanud upon us, sir. A whisper ran along the crew that the stranger was a Yankee frigate. Thkthought was confirmed by the command of 'All hands clear the ship for ac tion, ahoy!' The drum and fife beat to quarters I -hulk-heads were knocked away the guns were released from their con finement-the whole dread parapher nalia of battle was produced-and after the lapse of a few minutes hur ry and confusion, every man and boy was at his post, ready to do his best service for his country, oxcepA. the band who claiming exemption from the affray, safely stowed themselves away in the cable tier.. We had on lv one sick man on the list, and he at the cry of Lattle, hurried from his cot, feeble as he was, to take his post of danger. A few of the junior mid shipmen were stationed below, on the berth deck, with orders, given in our hearing, to shoot any man who at tempted to run from his quarters.' Our men were all in "good spirits; though they did not scruple to ex press the wish that the coming foe was a Frenchman rather thian a Yan kee. We had been told '.by the Americans on board, that~ frigates in the A merican service carried more and heavier metal than ours. This together with our consciousnes of superior-ity over the Freneh . at Ben, led us to a preference for a Thaech The Americans, among Anom her, felt quite disconcerted atthepue ce.ssity which compelled there to fight against their own artrymeniNiOne 't of thoem, named Jo1 Carde 1#rave a seamen as ever trod a p~rl en tured to present himself to te cap tan saprisoner, franikly M4etaring is objecions to fight. The cephin, - very ungerouisly, ordered hhitto 'his qjuarters, threaten lhtohiE if he madle the. ~~~g p or.. fellow! he ob~j ~ ~ '~ujt m mand, and w.~ lcihI fn - his own cointryup le t4~ ~ - more difiaceful j s at 4u ~~ Macensman, thae m A mari aozerwas at4 amende - ~m'~ or, was ihe e5n k% r Every pod6ib1M d' )~~ 3 lighte tfor1th9g B rn~ishe4 ith U1~t ate ~I~ e . are . y ide- wit