Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, South-Carolina) 1852-1852, May 18, 1852, Image 1
THE CAMDEN JOURNAL.
VOLUME 3. CAMDEN, SOUTH-CAROLINA, MAY 18, 1&52. NUMBER 40.
/ THE CAMDEN JOURNAL, "
published semi-weekly and weekly by
THOMAS J. WARREN.
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From the Editor's Table of the Knickerboc-'xr.
THE BEREAVED.
Wbitten in 1588.
Onetime my soul was pierced as with a sword,
Contending still with men untaught and wild,
When He who to the prophet lent his gourd,
Gave me the solace of a pleasant child.
A summer-gift my precious flowet was given,
i\ very summer irdgrmice woonom^,
Its dear eyes soothed me as the blue of Heaven, 1
When home I turned, a weary man of strife.
With unformed laughter, musically sweet,
How soon the wakening babe would meet my
kiss,
With out-stretched arms its care-worn father greet
Oh! in the desert what a stream was this!
A few short months it blossomed near my heart,
A few short months, else toilsome all, and sad ;
For that home solace nerved me for my part,
And of the babe I was exceeding glad!
Alas! my pretty bud, scarce formed, was dying!
(The prophet's gourd, it withered in a night:)
And He, who gave me all, my heart's pulse trying,
Took gently home the child of my delight!
Not rudely ca'led, nor suddenly it perished,
But gradual faded from our love away ;
As ifstill secret dews, its life that cherished,
Were drop by drop withheld, and day by day. g
c
My blessed Master saved me from repining,
So tenderly He sued me for His own;
So beautiful He made my babe's declining, c
Its dying blessed me, as its birth had done. e
And daily to my i?| nn/tn anrt pvcn, L
Our fading flower I bade his mother bring, c
That we might commune of our rest in heaven, ^
Gazing the while on death, its sting. ^
And of the ransom for that baby paid,
So very sweet at times our converse seemed, *
That the sure truth of grief a gladness made, 1:
Our little lamb ofGoo's own Lamb redeemed! s
8
There were two milk-white doves my wife had t
nourished, ]
And I too loved, erewhile, at times to stand,
Marking how each the other fondly cherished,
And fed them from my baby's dimpled hand. 1
So tame they grew, that to his cradle flying, J
Full oft they cooed him to his noontide rest; <
And to the murmurs of his sleep replying, ?
Crept gently in, and nestled in his breast. ,
'Twas a fair sight the snow pale-infant sleeping, 1
So fondly guardianed by those creatures mild ;
Watch o'er his closed eyes their bright eyes keep- '
i"g?
Wondrous the love betwixt the birds and child! <
1
Still as hesickered seemed the doves too dwining, |
Forsook their food, and loathed their pretty play; ]
And on the day he died, with sad note pining,
One gentle bird would not oe amen awuy,
His mother found it when she rose sad-hearted,
At early dawn with sense of nearing ill;
And when at last the little spirit parted, i
The dove died too, as if of its heart-chill. I
I
The other flew to meet my sad home-riding,
As with a human sorrow in its coo; ,
rTo my dead child and its dead mate then guiding,
Most pitifully 'plained?and parted too!
1 'Twas my first present, my first pledge to Heaven!
And as I laid my darling 'neath the sod,
Precious His comforts?once an intant given, i
And offered with two turtle-doves to God!
THE INCENDIARY.
The wind howled dismally through the narrow
streets of the city of T. The storm King
was out on his airy flight, and lashed the earth
in fury. The rain pattered upon the pavements
r and a thick darkness settled around, unbroken
save by the street lamps, which cast a pale and
'fitfa'i glare .on either side as they battled with the
imps of darkness. The bespattered watchmen,
f weary und drenched, had sought refuge where
they might be in some measure sheltered from
(the bristling storm, which seemed to gather
strength as it continued; while a thick log settled
in gloomy silence around the city, as if to
shut it out from all conmiunicatiou with the
.world.
The hour of one |>ealed from a distant clock,
.as a person crept slyly along the avenue which
Jed to the house of Mr. Lester, a wealthy merchant,
who was at the time snugly ensocnaoed in
, 'his bed?little dreaming of harm <sr danger.
13ut'how little we know of the/ate which awaits
us ! When the heart feels most secure, danger
?ay, death itself may be knocking at the door
:to summon us away.
'Cautiously the person whom we have introduced
proceeded, gazing around, as if he feared
some unseen eye might behold the deed he was
about to commit Suddenly he stopped, as if
he caught the glimpse of a person turn a corner
upon the opj?ositc side of the street, and disap- !
^ par. ?
Breathless, he stood a few moments, till feeling
sure he was unobserved, he hastened on, and disappeared
in a small wooden shed adjoining the
house of which we have spoken.
A few moments and he returned, while a
small streak of flame was observable through
the door f.om which he had issued. Hardly
had he cast his eyes around ere they fell upon
a person, whom he too well knew had been an
observer of the crime. Quicker than thought
he levelled him with the earth, and hastened
away. A moment, as if struck by some thought,
he returned and searched the pockets of his victim,
and turning, fled.
Peal after peal rang from the bells of the city,
and the cry of ' fire! fireP resounded from eve****
Tb? f lrt/1 inki\bi*onte U'OPO COOtl
ly uutuiuu. luc st.m?cu iwiuiujwihui ?^iv
leaving their house?, and hastening in the dircc
tion from which the flames ascended; the extreme
darkness of the night rendering them so
brilliant as to raise the impression that a large
portion of the city was in flames.
Soon the hardy firemen were engaged in their
work of mercy. But nought could stay the angry
flames. Suddenly a cry, most heart-rending,
burst upon the ears of those gathered around.
Twas a mother's sliTiek. 4 My daughter! my
daughter!' which was heard above the uproar,
4 save ! save my daughter!'
A shudder passed through the crowd at that
cry; for who in the city knew not the lovely
and accomplished Miss Emeline Lester ? And
to know her was to love! Just bursting into
womanhood, she was almost a perfect specimen
of all we admire. Although flattered and caressed
by all who knew her, she possessed a
mild and gentle disposition, while her mind
ihone forth like some rich diamond upon the
x>ronet of a king. Such was she whom it now
>eemed must perish in the flames.
At the moment, Mr. Lester stepped from the
:rowd which had gathered around him, and with
i calm voice, while his face showed all the agoiy
working within, made known that his daugher
was in the third story of the burning buildng,
and offered any reward within his power to
>estow on the person who would rescue her from
lersituation.
A erroan of aconv ran through the crowd.
vhich told the father that sympathy was all he
ould expect from them. The stoutest heart
[uailed at the thought of the iminent danger
vhich would be incurred in attempting a rescue.
The father again appealed in the most moving
trains, while the mother swooned in the arms
>f a friend.
Suddenly a young man burst through the
rowd and stood before the father. 4 If I perish,'
xclaimed he, 4 you will inform my friends, whom
ou will find by means of this,' and he raised
uliar shape, and brownish'iiue. A* nfofneirfaWl
ie was buried within the burning pile. The monents
wore away. Agony was depicted upon
very face, and each heart trembled at its own
houghts. All labor was suspended. A deathike
stillness reigned around, broken only by the
ullen roar of the flames, as they shot upwards,
treaking the sky with a vivid light, or the fall
>f a timber, as it came down with a heavy crash.
Hie roof was seen to tremble, as if it shuddered
it the awful abyss into which it seemed about to
?lunge.
Suddenly a cry of joy echoed around, as a
lart of the wall came down with a tremendous
irash, for, ere it reached the ground, a figure was
seen to leap from the flames, bearing a burthen
which he placed in the arms of the father and
nstantly disappeared.
The morning dawned brightly upon the ruins
:>f the proceeding night; and with its first rays,
i person in the well-known hotel, near the centre
:>f the city, rose from his couch, upon which, if
his looks were to be credited, he had obtained
but a small portion of rest. Hastily dressing
liimself, he sallied forth to breathe the morning
air, and to invite the early breeze to play around
(lis burning temples. An hour elapsed before
his return, and in the mean time his room was
tilled with a crowd of people, who apjn'ared
somewhat disappointed at his absence. Unable
to account for the excitement which seemed to
exist he hurried forward and entered the room.
Here he was addressed by a person who stepped
forward to meet him in these, words :
' Have I the honor of addressing Mr. Augustus
Montague ?'
4 That is my name, sirP returned he.
4 You are my prisoner,' exclaimed the former,
seizing him roughly by the arm.
Had a thunderbolt opened a path at his feet,
Montague would not have been more surprised
than he was at these words. His face was, for
a moment, overspread with a deadly paleness,
which was quickly construed by the officer into
an evidence of guilt.
4 Come! march my boy P exclaimed he, rudely
seizing Montague by the collar, 4 your face
shows plainly we have made no mistake in the
person!'
4 Why am I thus rudely treated ?' exclaimed
Montague, indignantly shaking the officer from
him. 41 am ready to accompany you ; but why
am j. awesieu s
x You are quite forgetful,' was the reply. 4 But
come'!' and :tbey <inoved otf together, followed
by a score of ragged loungers, who had congregated
around them.
'W.e will not follow Montague through his examination,
but leave him in prison, awaiting his
trial for the crime of arson.
It was a beautiful morning. The sun rose
clear and undimmed by a single cloud. The air
was as pure and fresh as a new blown rose, and
it swiftly bore upon its wings the sound of a
well known bell, which sent a thrill through tire
heart ot many a person connnea wiinin tne
strong walls of the City Prison, around which a
crowd had now collected. Slowly the massive
gate swung back upon its hinges, and a prisoner,
with a proud step and lofty bearing, issued from
the walls, attended by an officer, and proceeded
toward the Ilall of Justice. That prisoner was
Augustus Montague!
As he entered a general hiss ran through the
crowd, which expressed their feelings toward yo
him but too well. Although there were some
present who gazed upon his fine form with ad- by
miration, (and amongst these the females,) yet wi
none gave vent to these thoughts except it Were fir
exclamations of surprise, that one of such noble foi
bearing should have been engaged in 60 enor- ha
mous a crime, as that of arson. dii
None appeared to doubt his guilt, and all
seemed to rejoice in the detection of one whom erl
they believed to be the author of all the alarm, all
on account of the unusual number of fires that lin
had taken place of late, which bore upon them- tei
selves the marks of an incendiary. JDid 1 say re1
all believed him guiity ! There was one among
that company who would not believe the noble
being before her, could have been guilty of so
dreadful a crime as that charged upon him, and ini
this was the fair Emeline Lester! The moment ab
her eyes fell upon him, a thrill ran through her
frame unknown before. That face, that form, th
seemed familiar to her, but where she had seen cn
him, she was unable to say. A thousand be- Tt
wildering thoughts passed quickly through her an
mind. There was a secret chain that linked that
form to her mind, but in vain she strove to dis as]
cover the key by which she might disentangle
its intricate folds. Unsatisfied and perplexed, m<
she strove to dispel the subject from her mind,
but her efforts were only succeeded by its roots wc
becoming more deeply implanted. on
But to proceed with our story. We will not a <
follow the Court through the many ceremonies noi
prescribed by law, and sanctioned by justice, I a
i .. 1 . - ,t 1 I 1 1a _ _ A. _ I. ! t_ . _ #
out nasien 10 me eviaence aaaucea 10 esiaonsn 01
the guilt of Montague. vie
The chief witness that was brought against an<
him, having taken the oatli usual on such occa- an<
sions, deposed:? ' rot
4 That passing the building destroyed, a few wit
moments before the alarm was given, he perceiv- Th
ed a person suddenly emerge from the door of pre
the shed, adjoining the house, and hastened to- ]
ward the hotel where the prisoner lodged. Sus- I b
pecting some foul play, he had followed and tha
overtaken him. That a smart struggle ensued to
between them, in which the prisoner had drop- cha
ped a pocket-book, which was now before the noi
Court, bearing the prisoner's name?and which pie
he had declared since to be his?and which he tha
has owned he lost upon the night of the fire." kej
The servant of the Hotel, who also declared i
that Montague had left the Hotel at about 11 pui
o'clock and had not returned until after the ing
alarm of fire. These circumstances, with some yoi
others of minor importance, were deemed enough woi
to warrant the Jury in returning a verdict of me
4 Guilty.' When called upou for defence, Mon- hai
tague arose, and addressed the court as follows :
.1 iiave. JDK, defence^in this case, trot
yon aright. Of the charge laid against ine, I am abl
perfectly innocent, and 1 am willing to trust my- chf
self in the hands of a wise and just God, knowing
he will not let the guilty go unpunished. tio
Sitting alone in my room, upon that evening, gei
the events of which have placed me befote you, red
a low whisper in an adjoining room attracted my ral
attention. Curiosity prompted me to listen.? be<
l'lacincr myself near the door, which was partly
open I soon caught the theme of their conversation,
which was no less than a plot, the effect are
of which you have witnessed. I had not heard
enough of their plans to take any effectual meas- he
ures for their defeat, ere the persons left the room am
and disappeared; but not till I marked them both, fac
The love of adventure has been implanted in my tal
breast from my early youth, and the only reason his
I can offer for keeping what I, overheard a sc- vei
cret, was the novelty of the adventure which I
anticipated, and the fear of its being overthrown, he
Determined, however to prevent the designs of to
those plotters, I immediately repaired to the ke
house of which I had heard them speak, and re- th<
inained in its vicinity till long past midnight, rie
without hearing anything from the villians I wan- ral
deredsome distance from the house and had just of
returned and stood opposite the door of the th<
shed which has been described to you, when I co
perceived a light near the inner edge. Stopping foi
to make of the fact, I caught a glimpse of a fig- ini
are behind me, and before I could turn I was to
struck down by the villian who must at that wl
time have taken the book from my pocket, either
for the purpose of implicating me in the th
" ^ 11* ? mirrkf l\a nf VD
crime, ur lur me guppu^muu mat it tui^itu v. j value.
I soon recovered from the blow sufficient- he
ly to rise and walk to my lodgings, where I soon be
recovered entirely. I then hastened back to the
burning building, where I arrived just in season
to hear the appeal of a father for the prcscrva- te:
lion of his daughter. How well my heart an- ar
swered to that appeal I will refer you to this'? na
raising his arm, which he had bared, and disclo- ali
sing to his ast.nished hearers the idenitical spot 111
which many of them had witnessed upon the night va
of the tire, and which now seemed to appeal to be
every heart and disclose the innocence of the pri - T1
oner. ta
A joyful cry here burst from the crowd of la- di
dies, and the words, 'It is he!' burst from the lips
of the sweetest maiden present. Memory had tw
done its work, and Eineline Lester, in imagina- th
tion, again stood within the burning building; Bl
again the shadow of a rescue burst upon her w<
closing eyes as she swooned away in his arms; ta
and iii Montague she now recognized that shad- tr.
1 1 ?--J -- 1 ? ? in hprhroasf Bl
ow wnicn nau ?o iohjj; siumwivu
Nothing could exceed the excitement caused
by his words, and ifthere was a person who was to
before convinced of his guilt that same person fo
now had not a doubt of his innocence. When st
sufficient order had been restored for him to pro m
ceed, Montague continued: 01
'Whether I have been justly confined as a
prisoner I leave you to decide; but I would this la
time point out to you the real incendiary, and al- re
so his accomplice.' di
Raising his arm slowly, he fixed his piercing si
eyes upon the chief witness against him, and de- of
clared him to be the man. Then turning to a P
person who had been one of the loudest to de- la
clare the guilt of the prisoner, he exclaimed:
'You, sir are the man whom I over-heard in
iur conversation on the night of the fire.'
Trembling with guilt and fear, and goaded on
a guilty conscience, the former stepped forard
and confessed himself the author of the
e, and that he had charged it upon Montague
the purpose of obtaining the^reward which
d been offered for the detection of the inceniry.
Suffice it to say, that Montague was set at libty,
and in a short time, was amply repaid for
his troubles, by receiving the hand of Emcie,
while those who had so basely made an atmpt
a: his honor and his life, received the just
ivard of their crimes.
Better to Work than to Beg.
Let no poor boy, after reading the following
teresting fact, ever despair of making a respectle
living.
A gentleman was once walking down one of
e streets of P , when a beggar loudly
ived " a few coppers for a night's lodging."
te gentleman looked earnestly at the poor man,
d inquired:
"Why do you not work? You should be
Earned of begging."
"Oh, sir, I do not know where to get employmt."
"Nonsense!" replied the gentleman, "you can
>rk if you will. Now listen to me. I was
ce a beggar like you. A gentlemau gave me
;rown piece, and said to me, 4 Work and do
t beg; God helps those who help themselves.'
it once left P , and got out of the way
my old companions. I remembered the ade
given me bv my mother before she died,
J I began to pray to God to keep me from sin,
I to give me his help day by day. I went
ind to the houses in the country places, and
II a nni*t nf mv fivo stiillirirrc Vviiirrlit nlrl ranra
... _ J ...J ...? ? ?.v.
esc I took to the paper mills and sold at a
fit.
[ was willing to give a fair price for the things
ought, and did not try to sell them for more
m I believed they were worth. I determined
be honest, and God prospered me. My purtses
and profits became larger and larger; aud
v I have got more than ten thousand crown
ces that I can call my own. On great thing
it has contributed to my success is this, I have
)t from strong drink and tobacco.
Ajs the gentleman spoke, he took out his
se and drew from it a crown piece, and handit
to the astonished beggar, he said, M Now
l have the same chance of getting on in the
rid that I had. Go and work, and never let
sec you begging again! If I do, I will
id you over to the police."
if ears passed away. The gentleman had for:ten
the circumstance, until one dav, when
e looking bookseller's shop, m oraet* to pur
ise some books that he wanted.
He had not been many minutes in convcrsau
with the book seller, before the latter, ea ly
looking into the face rf his customer, itiqui1,
"Sir, are not you the gentleman, who, seveyears
ago, gave a five shilling piece to a poor
;gar at the end of the street?"
"Yes, I remember it well."
"Then, sir, this house, this well-stocked shop,
ithe fruits of that five shilling piece."
Tears of gratitude trickled down his cheeks as
introduced the gentleman to his happy wife
il children. He was regarded as their benetor.
When gathered round the table to parte
of a cup of tea, the bookseller recounted
i history from the above eventful day. It was
ry similar to that of the welcome visitor.
1 __J J I.... ..CaJ'U
i>y inuusiry, noncsiv, ana uupouueuwuumuu o
lp, he had risen step by step, from buying rags
selling papers and tracts in the street, theu
eping an old book-shop, and ultimately to be
3 owner of one of the best circulating libras
in the place. Before the happy party sepa:ed
the large family Bible was taken down, out
which a psalm of thanksgiving was read, and
en all beut round the family altar. Words
uld not express the feelings of those who
med that group. For some moments silence,
termingled with sobs, evinced the gratitude
the Almighty Disposer ot human events
ii? h was ascendir g to heaven.
When they rose and bade each other farewell,
e bookseller said, "Thank God, I have found
ur words to ^be true. 'God helps those who
lp themselves.' 'It is better to work than to
g'
An Accomplished Female Swindler.?Yesrday
afternoon an officer of the mayor's police
rested a female about tvrenty one years of age,
>med Ann Eliza Burns, alias Shaw, alias Black,
as Spindler, on the charge of perpetrating nuerous
impositions and frauds, and committing
.rious larcenies in Philadelphia and the ncigh ring
towns of Pennsylvania and New Jersey.
ie prisoner was taken into custody at a respecble
house in Market street, where she was boarnfi
- . !.!* i?i
It has been ascertained mat wiuum mc uui
ro or three years she has taken to herself no less
an three husbands, (their names are Sbaw,
lack, and Spindler.) She married only two
?eks ago. Ho is a young man of very respecble
in Lancaster county. She has been lately
avelling about, and last came to this city from
elmont. Pa.
Her native place was the vicinity of German
>wn. She has been in the House of Refugt
r early improprcties. In that inst tution she
aid only a short time before winning a card o
erit. At the age of thirteen she was bouuc
it, but did not remain long at service.
Her criminal career has been going on for tin
st seven or eight years. Among the false rep
sentations she made at different times and t<
tiercnt persons hero and elsewhere were, tha
io was the heiress to large fortunes on comiiu
' age, and owned a number of fine houses ii
hila'io'iphia. Some of these buidings she tool
dies to see, and point- d thein out as hers.
"When she wedded Shaw, one of her husbands
sbe refused to let hira work, saying she had plen
ty of means, which she would very soon have the
exclusive control of.
The impostor is an exceedingly shrewd little
: woman, full of l'un, and remarkably quiet in her
demeanor. Her appearance is specious, and
her manners wonderfully free from suspicion.?
Two larcenies have already been traced to her,
one of them the robbery ofa Mrs. Bell. All persons
who have been swindled by her should call
at the mayor's office.?Philadelphia Bulletin.
Emigrattaa.
Among the most remarkable social phenomena
of our day the extensive emigrations now in
progress are destined to exercise a permanent and
all pervading influence. If the tide that sets from
the shores of Europe to those of the United States
were the only form of this movement ha results
would be brought more within the limits of rational
conjecture, in relation to the results, but
there are such numerous affluents to the great
stream, with some counter currents, that the mind
is bafled in any attempt to foretell the cousequences.
The usual relations as respects emigration
between Europe and the U. States?
restricted space and under paid labor, contrasted
with cheap land and high wages?enable us to
deduce the ordinary effects from the kind of emigration
of which the impelling motive is to better
physical condition. The only difference between
former periods and the present, in this respect,
is the more intense desire by which the population
of Europe is impelled to emigrate. But
within three years an entirely new element has
entered into the emigration movement. The
discovery of gold on tne shores of the Pacific
has aroused iu the human breast every latent passion
of avarice. The full consequences of thk
are not even faintly shadowed forth by present
results, or inferrable by comparison or analogy.
There is no similar conjecture in human affairs.
Wars and religious persecutions have driven
large masses off into distant countries, and although
great social changes have nsulted by the
fusion of different races, the circle of these effects
was circumscribed by time and place. But a
commercial emigration that embraces people
the wildest asunder, geographically and socially
?that includes the Englishman, the American,
the Chinaman?people of every latitnde and
lineage?disposes the mind to contemplation as
to the tendencies and results of so singular a
social phensmenon.
The mere naked fact, that one hundred and
fifty, or two hundred millions of dollars may be
added annually to the existing stock of the precious
metals, is only one and the least important
aspect of such an event as the transfer of so much
labor from one department to another of human
effort and enterprise. The economic effects may
tne pecuniary renutonaw nwmuw mnnauu f*'1 - ? ?
tions of mankind. No such shifting of large
musses of men under the influence of a powerful
incentive, assuming the intensity of passion, can
take place without an almoet general derangement
of human affairs. It is already felt, that
the demand for those commodities, and the
means of transport necessary to feed, clothe and
shelter the laigc number which have emigrated
to California, has produced serious inconvenience
to commerce; but if Australia draws off in the
same ratio, adventurers, the means of feeding
them, shipping. <fcc. how is fhe ordinary business
of the commercial world to proceed, except
at an accelerated pace in correspondence with
these new movements and developments ?
The arrangements of trade have for their existing
basis that permanency which is founded
on the nearly stationary geographical condition
of the race. A moderate emigration is not incompatible
with general prosperity, for it is not
hostile to gradual improvement, feut the sudden
transfer of the instruments of production?men,
machinery, capital, art, science, from places of
permanent location to opposite quarters of the
J world, must leave a large void in some places as
others are filled, which is destined to exert a
great moral, as well as economic influence on the
fortunes or* mankind. To what extent the interests
of society will be affected, is yet in the indefiniteness
of the prospect, among the inscrutable
things of our remarkable era, but one such
El Dorado as California was quite enough in the
same century.?Evening News.
Thr Chances or Lire.?Among the interesting
facts developed by the recent census, are
some in relation to the law that governs life and
death. They are based upon returns from tho
State of Maryland, and a comparison with previous
ones. The calculation k is unnecessary to
explain, but tbe result is a table from which wo
gather the following illustration :
10,208 infants are born on the same day and
enter upon life simultaneously. Of these, 1,243
never reach the anniversary of their birth. &,025
commence the second year, but the proportion
of deaths still continues so great, that at the
end of the third only 8,183, or about fouidifths
of the original number survive. But during the
fourth year, the system seems to acquire more
' strength, ana the number of deaths rapidly decreasing
until twentv-one, the commencement of
. maturity and the period of highest health. 7,1!
34 enter upon the activities and responsibilities
of life?more than two-thirds of the original
number. Thirty-five comes, the meridian of
' manhood; 6,302 have reached it. Twenty years
' I more, and the ranks are thinned. Unty 4,7*7,
f' of less than half of those who entered life fiftyI
five years ago>? are left. And now death comes
more frequently. Every year the ratio of mortal,
ity steadily increases, and at seventy, there are
* not a thousand survivors. A scattered few live
j on to the close of tins oeutury, and at the age
j one hundred aud six the drama is ended. The
r last man is dead.
c Weeds that grow unmolested around the
fences, stumps and stones, scatter their seeds
I, over the farm, and produce a crop of trouble,