,»
. for accommodations.
',!1:~tt tiles for wood and iron; iiu se rnsp-.«; jitlltftll
" [,lOl.T‘lS.-\Ll~I and Retail ll(3illt'I'lll1‘:Ul'I)-
’ -M311 ,_mg;¢ly_state that you will find almost every
'1‘!-IE NORVVALK: GA.ZE'l‘TE.;~‘ ’ i
'4 IS PUBLISHED EVERY‘ WEDMESDAY MURMII/lG,.
overt no n_-‘s sronz.
W'est side the Brzdge.
~ TERMS.-’I‘w0 dollars per acnum. payable "7
advance-$2 25 at the end of the year. _ ,
- Ttvsubseribers who‘ live out of the_ Carriers
district and call at the dollicedfnr tlteirupapersq
1 50. er ear 2' ai in a ounce--o erwise
:2 willp beyclitirg/ed. Mail subscribers $2 Per
a'nn‘nin,‘payable in advance. .N00lh€l'S attend-
ed ;o,’amj no subscription recgivpd for less tliati
one ea.-_ To companies o .921? or more. re-
ceivizg theirgapers by mail, 3151 50, payable all
to ether in (I vance.
gIg‘.xeciitor's and Administrator's Notices. 3 in-
sertions. $’l—Con'ttnissiouer's notices, $1 25.
Yearly advertisers. one square, $10 per annum.
payable quarterly in advance. The privilege
of yearly advertisers is limited to their own im-
mediate business—all extra advertisements will
be char ed at the usual rates. All other adver
tisemenTs at the rate of $1 per square for 3 inser-
tions. and25 cents for each subsequent insertion.
03- All casual advertisementssent to this Of-
fice. should be accompanied by the cash. No
others will be inserted.
.D_©lE‘=3 Pli8[llNlTF'lllNJ©,,
OF ALL KINDS,
’lflEATl.Y EXECUTED AT THE GAZETTE 0FFlCE..
NEW’ PUBLIC HOUSE
At Old Well.
THE subscriber has taken the
house formerly kept by him. but re-
.___-,_j cently occupied by Charles Patrick,
- --.- '15- at the Steam Boat Landing.‘ Old
Well; and will "be happy to wait on all his old
friends. and such strangers asiitay call upon hitu
Hetrusts by a sedulous
attention to the duties of a Landlord. to ren-
der his house an agreeable stopping place for
all who inav favor him with their patronage.
Horses kept iii the best ui.mnt‘i', and on the
most reasonable terms.
HARRISON DAVIS.
Noiwallt, May I. 1839. ’ W112
IIARD PVARE STORE.
‘IVILLIA M J. STEE'I‘hasjust replenished
his stock in trade, by adding many articles
in the line of his business. He has the follow-
ing enumerated articles and many others, in all
a good assortment for .1 country store.
Knives and forks, a large. assortment; Brit-
taui.-t. table atid‘teu spoo_ns; German silver. do
a sup:-rior nrtit-le; German «lo bntterltnives, do
«In: butt-in-r. lJl’C.‘.‘t‘-l, carving, pocket and pen
on ‘rm-z DOCK
ll
TWO DOLLARS PER .ANNUM]
“noN"r Give U!’ nu; snip.”
[PA 124 BLE IN .41) VANCII.
voL. XXII.
NORVVALK. CONN. TVEDNESEDAY. LVHAY 22. R8539. :
{T 1 hits‘
‘T—~%
9:? The following Ode, by BRYANT, was
sung at the Fiftieth Anniversary of the In-
auguration of Gen. Washington, which was
celebrated on the 30th ult. by the New-YOI‘l€
Historical Society:
5‘ ODE.
Great were the hearts. and strong the minds,
Ofthose who framed. in high debate,
The immortal league of love that binds
Our fair broad empire, state with state.
And ever hallowed be the hour,
When, as the auspicious task wqsdone,
A nation's gift, the sword of powers
\Vas given to Glory’s_unspoiled son.
The noble race is gone; the suns
Of‘ fifty yeajrts have risen and set;
The holy links those mighty goes
Had forged and knit, are brighter yet.
\Vide—as our own free race increase-
\Vitle shall it stretch the elastic chain,
And bind. in everlasting peace, .
State after state. a mighty tram-
From the Soul/tern Literary Messenger.
TIIE VENTRILOQ-UIST,
on THE rononn wtLL.
hilyjfriend and chum, Tim Jocelyn, pos-
sesseclrw an astonishing degree the singular
power of cent-r'i'loqu.ism. We had entered
college together-—I was his room-mate——and
manv were the times that my friend, while
we were sitting together of an evening, after
all had retired to rest, had given me proofs
of his astonishing faculty, by filling the gar-
ret with the screams of turkies, the squealing
of pigs, and different imitations of the hu-
man voice, which he would convey away to
some remote distance, and then gradually
bring it nearer, until it reached the place
where we were sitting. It was not known
Jttiivi-s ofall kinds"; largo and small shears and
N-i~t.~mr:-. suiiie quite. t-lcgant; brass and troti cuti-
dl.-giit-l~::<; liriitutiitt ll!i'lHl tea puts; lirass and
iron ltc:‘.lt‘-: frxitig puns. liztrigtiig pane and
,.,,‘,,|,.r,,; sflll imiis, ltnliuii tl-t; colli.-c mills.
nnrljfung, patent gritliroiis, .~'llt)\'t>'f~‘ and ttitigs.
’['r1',-nnun__t1.t‘fl1r Bu.‘/(I'i1I_t_rs.
' C;irpenter's 73 and 2)’ bolt ltwliw‘ of V:lt'lt)llS sizes;
¢1.,2.l., rim tl.i, wtiutl plate lntzits illltl rrttphoartl. do
Norfolk and Aim-iittatt. lzitcltt-.-a ofzill .sl7.«‘>'; butts
and screws, in lnrgp Zl\‘.~‘i)l'l:ll(.‘lll ; cupboard fast-
enings and knobs; window and shutter fasten-
to any of the students except myself,_that Tim
Poss.-sseil this power, and be exercised it on-
lv on a few occasions while at college, and
in one instance, made it subservient to the ac-
complishment of at least his own good, and
ll]\\'ttl‘l€(l the purpose of villamy.
Tim was humorous, yet a frank and noble
minded fellow--—an excellent scholar, and
much beloved by his classmates. There was
a fellow in the Soplioinore class, oftbe name
of Benson, the son of a wealthy land-holder.
who possessed little talent, but had that su-
iugs; flat. square and round bolts; also, car-
gmtitt-r'.s=tt-iuls ;;-fc\'t:ry tlcscriptioti ; j:ir~l<. Sttttwllt
and fore pl:t'ics, plows.j-nitiu-rs and niateltltt
‘-.,|;..,¢,-; hollows and nvtititls; litetids ofrll sizes I
jryiug squares and l)u\'l~lS; l’t'.'/l2Ztltl_'_'. ft-rtitcr. until
mzislt t‘ltl.s't‘l5 of all sizes ; bench screws; liani-'
’m¢,r3 untl attgvrs; plane ir-ms; back. panel.
.1,-oinpass anzl littntl saws: steel and iron squares
Iron tutu.’ Steel.
Enzlisli. Swt-ties. and Ainericati. of all lttuds.
round. square and flat; cast slt.‘t‘l round and
mjtiure, all sizes; Lierrtian and I-luuits-Ii hlistt-r
steel ; crowbars, waggou and cart boxes of all
sizes; also, cast steel and iron shovels. and
_.spades; mill and cross cut saws of the best
American riianufacturc.
» Paints and Oils, .§'r.
Linseed, whale. and lamp oil ; extra and no.
.1 white it-ad; V. red. Fri-ticli yellow, and
Spanish brown; Litlicrage and spts. ttirpt-ii-
sine; chrome yellow, and green ; vet-tligrzs,
xcrre decena. Prussiat: blue. lamp black, red
.le:.id. copal and Japan varnish.
Nails. Glass, and Sttsltcs‘.
\Vrotiglit and cut iiailsof all sizes by the keg
or less quantity: horse Shoes; Germain, Ren~
stiellaer, and Waterford glass from G by S. to 16
by 2:»), by lllf: box or retail; sashes of all sizes
l'runi6 by 8 to 11 by 16.
Guns and Pistols.
Just received" it good article of‘ German quits
at 85 each, and pocket pistols‘ of various lillltla‘
and prices.
- Sundries.
Chest. trunk, and pad locks of various sizes;
borax, chest and strap fringes; lu(.'liS and spurn-
bles: bed screws and keys; Sttsll curtl: paint
and varnish brushes . steelyards; brass ox
knobs: bur:-'. saws; trace and halter chains;
.g__-1]) l|.u'c.~l: :_'l'tll‘!l(‘lS. <:ho_npiti_t_r kitives. shot belts,
and powder flask-; 3 .-qtiure and llllll saw files;
.b;illiiuces, die. die. dcc. . /
Nurwnllt. April ____
NE W SPRING GOODS.
'1‘. S'l‘EVENS.
peaii. lndizt ’ltl.l American Dry Goods.
No.2 Burrall‘s Buildings. a few s’t'tH \V€‘st of
,_:he Bridge, of 2 doors East of the Post Ollice.
Ladies and Gentlemen. as you are passing by,
At this numberyon will pleaseglaiicc your eye;
For at this Store, you shall find,
Articles cheap of every kind.
[would respectfully .tnfo.rtn my customers.
.and dealers with this market in general. that!
ha-.ve now in store of recent purchases, a full and
. general assortment ofgootls adapted particularly
_ioihe approaching season. and beg leave also
to state, that I have in view to keep up my stock
through the Spring. by daily-supplies from new
jmporiaiions. so as to embrace nearly all the de-
desirable staple and fancy goods in myline;
among which-may be found—100 pcs. English.
French and American Broadcloihs, wool dyed,
blue,,bla_cl;. invisible. olive, and rifle green. dab-
lia, olive and- London. browp, claret. drab, Ox-
.£Jrti.steel..and cadet mixed, just bought at auc-
tion, warranted 20 per cent. cheaper than be
bought at any othersliopin the County. Cassi-
.g-feres and Satiuetts, the best assortment in the
place. at prices very much reduced ; 200 pairs
gum elastic suspenders, embracing every style,
color and quality.
I -have 300 pair of ladies‘ base,
I -make no doubt will please their beans;
-With gloves so pretty to fit the hand
-Have just arrived bysea and land.
' erchants, in general, who’d live and thrive,
' ‘ gihonld please their neighbors and their wives
‘With smaller profits be content.
And lower their prices ten per cent.
. - » -time will notjpertmit me tojenumerate ar-
giclesin this, you will find them in the next. I
-- ,' , -1' f b siness; and as I buy at
a.:’ci,.;,.l,’;.in¢;3’i;ah’$r(ices,uI am enabled to sell so
”")h“p',.sj;o fiqfy competition from any source
.No abamment in prices.‘
' ACCORDIONS,
pc1‘llCl1).l and insolent contemptuous bearing
iwartls all the students, whose circumstan-
ccs were inferior in wealth to his, that ren-
tiered him deservedly unpopular among the
class—-vet, notwithstanding as he was the
son of Maj. Benson, who was an aristocrat of
the old school, and who was desirous that
his son should be placed in the highest rank
of academic honors, the tutors, (as in duty,
or rather in interest, bound.) made much of
David, and did not scrtiple to exercise a lent-
encv and forbearance towards him, which
they did not extend to others; and although
dozens of tlie'farmer’s sons, among whom
was my friend 'I‘itn, out-stripped him in study,
and the attainment of science, still there was
evidently a desire on the part of the tutors to
put him ahead, and to prophecy that he was
destined to become the greatest scholar of
them all. This misplaced favoritism,'added
to the insolent and consequential demeanor
of Benson, produced for him the unanimous
dislikes of all the inmates of the school, and
many were the pranks that were played off
upon him. David affected a_sentimentality
and romance, which was in litm perfectly ri-
diculous—--and would sometimes perpetrate
tlo-zgcrcl, which he submitted to the criticism
of ‘the tutors and sometimes to the students--
dcficicnt in meaning or measure, except
where he had stolen entire snatches from
Byron’s “Hours of Idleness,” which never
ftiled to gain him the sneers oftbe school in
the same proportion as his verses were com-
mended by the teachers. ‘On one occasion,
he appeared at the adjoining village, with a
Copy of b_is last effort tacked to the skirt of
his coat, which some mischievous student
had pinned there during school hours and
before Benson’s departure. _ _
During a summer vacation, a ball was gi-
veu at the neighboring village, and Benson
and Tim among other students, who remain-
ed during the vacation, were invited to at-
tend. Among the young ladies in attend-
ance at the ball, was Eliza Ayres. a beauti-
ful girl of 18, whom report said was a great
heiress. She was an orphan and under the
zguardiansliip of her uncle, a miserly old fel-
-low, whose tyrannies though'often extended
over his household, had as yet been withheld
from his ward. Benson was here introduced
to Miss Ayres, and exercised ‘the whole of
his powers, to render himself agreeable to
her. Tim was also introduced—and before
the evening drew -to it close, it was easy to
discover that the intelligent and beautiful girl
had drawn in her own mind the difference
between the two young men. She seemed
annoyed at the va id tom-fooleries of Benson,
while she listened) with respectful attention,
and with a smile to the conversation of Tim.
The amusements broke for the evening.—
Tim was standing by Miss Ayres, who after
some remarks as to the happy manner in
which the evening had passed away, conclu-
ded by inviting Tim to call upon her at her
Uncle’s. Before she had finished this sen-
tence, Benson came up, and politeness offered
no alternative but offer the same invitation to
him. He was about to offer to accompany
her home, but Tim had been too quick for
him there. Tim-accompanied the lady home,
and Benson returned mortified to his room.
He however formed the determination of
visiting Miss Ayres, feeling the full assur-
ance that Tim would come of second best,
when it became known that Tim was but the
son of a farmer in moderate circumstances,
while he was the son of Major Benson._ with
a fortune at his command. He accordingly
often called on Miss Ayres; and her uncle,‘
for reasons which will hereafter be explain-
ed, encouraged -his visits, and exerted litm-
. ;_BFA:Uv1-']'pUL Musical instrument, for
1.,,fe1,y L. Cum: ‘db Co.
,..-gg-‘prttao. tflll
self in his behalf, as a suitor to his niecc.--
Benson was fairly in love, and as many lovers
do, be assumed a virtue and amiability of de-
portment, which was but ill» feigned, and his
real character would often appear in spite of
himself. ‘Tim also had availed himself of
Eliza’s invitation and often visited her. A
mutual attachment was the consequence,
which soon ripened into an affection between
the two—-an exchange of vows, ~ and a pro-
mise of her hand were won from Eliza.-—
Benson under the encouragement of her un-
cle, still continued his suit, proposed, and
was rejected. He now grew amazingly
melancholy, or at least affected to be so; and
would wander in this mood tothe banks of
the river, and gaze upon the stream, proba-
bly contemplating an acquaintance with sui-
cide—and giving his body to the fishes for
dissection. But Benson was not such a fool
as that, either.‘ His disappointment became
known at the college. and numerous were fit‘,
gibes and taunts the poor fellow got frotri
those whom he had so insolcntly dominc~ei'ed
This, of course, did not tend to add much to
the amiability of his temper-—-and on one or.‘-
casion, be showed his magnanimity and
courage by knocking down a. brig_ht.eyetl
lad, some five or six years his junior, for say-
ing-—‘ That a -fellow who had been in the
habit of taking airs on himself, ' had found
Ag/res that could not be easily taken.’ ' Titri.
who stood by, saw this exhibition of Bensoti’s
courage, and in return gave him a blow un-
der the left ear, which sent him reeling to
the floor. At this the whole school shouted,
and Tim was ever after hailed by the
youngsters, as a protection against the tyran-
nies of Benson. - '
But Tim himself was not entirely at ease
on the score of Miss Ayres. The old uncle
had frowned upon him, as he entered the
house, and had given him sundry hints that
Eliza was not for him; while at the same
time be had attempted to lay his commantiis
upon Eliza respecting her acceptance of
Benson. The uncle's name was Pell. He
had been made the sole executor of the will
ofEliza’s father, himself having the profit of
the large estate of the deceased gentleman, af-
ter supporting and educating the daughter,
during her minority. or until she should
marry. An item in the will to this effect—-
that if Eliza married it man of moderate for
time, the whole estate, amounting to sixty
thousand dollars, was to become hers, on her
marriage day, or when she became of age-—
but if her husband was himself heir to thirty
thousand dollars, half the estate became the
property of her uncle—wh-ich sufficiently eit-
plains the anxiety on the part of Mr. Pell,
that Eliza should marry Benson, as he
would thereby become possessed of a snug
little property.
her in tears. On his inquiring the cause,
she informed him that Benson had that day
repeated his suit and had again been rejected
-——that on learning it, her uncle had come in
and upbraided her, and threatened that ifshe
did not accept Benson to dispossess herof her
property, alleging that he possessed the
means of doing so, as nobody had ever read
the will of her father except himsclf—that
the subscribing witness did not know the con-
tents——th-at probate had never been taken of
it—and that it was in his power to insert
therein rt clause requiring that ifshe married,
it must be with the consent of him, as her
guardian and the executcr of the will,’ and
then ifshe married Tim it would be without
his consent, and she would thereby become
disinherited forever. _
‘ Can’t you get possession of the will?’ in-
quired Tim of Eliza.
‘ I should think-'-it impossible, as my uncle
keeps it well secured in an iron safe.’
‘ I’ll manage it, my dear,’ replied Tim,
‘and will get the will from the old tyrant, or
I’ m- no conjurer. You have told me, I think,
that your uncle was very superstitious '3’
‘ He is,’ said Eliza.’ ‘ He imagines often
that he hears the voice of Mr. Jones, and
other of his former tenants who are now dead
—and no wonder, for his oppression were
the ruin of these poor men.’
‘ In what part of the house does your un-
cle lodge ’l’ inquired Tim.
‘ On the first floor of the wing at the ex-
tremity of the building,’ she replied.
Tim bade her good evening, and then went
to consult Mr. Fletcher, his attorney. Af-
ter somc time spent in the consultation. Tim
departed, and was wending his way in a
brown study towards his boarding house,
when he was accosted by Peter, the black
servant of Pell, with
‘Fine evenin,’ Massa Jocelyn; I want to
peak to you.’ ‘
Tim stopped, and turned round to the ne-
gro. He was a stout, humorous looking fel-
low, somewhat aged. and approached Tim
very respectfully. He had been brought up
by Eliza’s father, and was a favorite domestic
of that gentleman in his life time. Peter
‘commenced-
‘ Look here, Massa Jocelyn ; you not know
what has been goin’ onat Massa Pell’s since
[let you out de gate dis evenin’. Dat fel-
ler Benson, he come again to see Missus,
and she scamper off to her room, and sh_et
herself up, and den Benson went away.-.-—
Pretty soon Massa Pell he wicked ole chap,
Massa Jocelyn) come an call young Missus
out, and tell her she muss marry dat Benson
in a month. or he turn her out door. Poor
young Missus cry, and take on so dat I
could’nt stand it, and so I fell a blubbering
too—,-caze, you see, she my ole Mas_sn’s dar-
tnr, and l carry her in my arms when she
little piccariinny. Dat ole Massa Pei.‘ very
cruel, Massa Jocelyn, and he so 's she hub
no property if she not marry Bens it. Now,
Massa Jocelyn, what to be done ? . Can’! you
lick that Benson? Besure youean.’
Peter was here interrupted by Tim, who
finding from. the toneof the riegro’.s conversa-
tion that he did not like his present master
over much, and would therefore be of service
and fright depicted in his countenance
Tim visited Eliza one evening and -.5-nun;l._,
to him in furtli‘ering the plan he was about
to propose, asked him where he slept?
‘In little room in de wing, close by Massa
Pell’s bed room. He make sleep dare, ‘be-
cause lie ’fraid and sometime he talk in he
sleep and say he see ghost ; and den he call
me sit up all night wid candle.
Titn here informing the negro of the cir-
cumstance relating to the will that he was
anxious to obtain possession of it for the pur-
pose of llaVlll0’ it pioved and recorded,and then
it would be oiit of old Pell’s power to injure
his 'ounrr mistress. Tim, I have said he-
3 a . . . .
fore was a ventrtloquist. He explained this
to Pcter—and they together formed the pro-
ject of frightening old Pell out of the posses-
sion of the will. It was arranged that Tim
should come to the negro’s room at about
twelve o’clock that night——-and their pre-
concerted management when there is now
about to appear.
It was five minutes of twelve. o’clock.——-
The night was dark, and the wind howled
over the to s of the trees, and creriked the
l frih ‘ Old P ll 1 d
stutters o e mansion. e in re-
tired to his room, had undressed himself, put
_on his night cap, and was busy in mind re-
specting thethirty thousand dollars he was to
obtain if Eliza married Benson. He went
to the iron safe, and took out the will, read it
over, and thus soliloquised: ‘ The jade must
be compelled to submit-——or she gets. no pro-
petty. Here IS a blank in the will suffi-
ciently large to insert what isflnecessary-—
and as I drew it originally, it wiil be the same
handwriting-—and never detected. So l’ll
just insert here, where it says Eliza is to be-
- come possessed of her property on her mar-
riage day——proi:ided site marries witli. tiie
consent of_Sam1tel Pell, whom I have consti-
tuted a guardian, and sole executor of this
my last will and testament.’ Pcter’s room
was adjoining that of old Pell——there was a
glass window in the door between them, and
there was one who had been an attentive ob-
server and listener to the conduct and
soliloquy of Pell. The old scamp had dip-
ped his pen in the inkstand, smoothed out
the folded parchment, and crooked his elbow
to writc—-when— '
‘ Forgery l’ cried zi deep toned, hollow, and
supernatural voice at his elbow. ‘Forgery l’
reiterated the same voice in another pa rt of
the room; and again the horrible word
‘Forgery !’ was slowly pronounced, and its
tone gradually sunk in the earth beneath the
floor.
Old Pell suddenly dropped the pen, and
shrunk back pale and trembling with horror
Hav-
ing a little recovered from his astonishment,
he looked around his apartment and under
the bed. Nothing was to be seen. He
listenetl Nothing was licard bttt the snor-_
ing of Peter in the adjoining room, He he-
gan to think it an illusion—was first recover-
ing his courage——and was about to take up
the will again, when as soon as he had plac-
ed his hand upon it—
‘ Forgery I’ again cried the voice in a tone
of thunder. '
Pell drew away his hand as if he had re-
ceived an electric shock, and leaving. the
will on the centre table, ran into Peter’s room
and awakened him.
-"What’s de trouble, Massa Pell '1' asked
the negro. _
‘Get up,’ said Pell shaking with fright,
‘and come into m room’ Peter went in
accordingly. Pell conti-nued—-
' Did you hear nothing, Peter P’
‘ No, Massa—what you hear that scare
you so 2’
" No matter, I want you to stay with me—-
and keep a candle burning. I’l_l go to bed.’
Pell accordingly prepared to turn in, but
he bethougbt hitnself that it would be best to
put the will again into the safe before he re-
tired He advanced to the table for that pur--
pose, and was in the act of taking up the
parchment, when the same unearthly voice
exclaimed-—
‘ Let the will alone, old Pelll’
He started back with so much force as to
upset Peter, who falling against the table-
upset that also—the candle on the table be-
came upset and extinguislied, and all was
total darkness
‘ VVhat in time ail you, massaf’ asked Pe-
ter—‘ whatscare you dis time 2’
‘ Did’nt you hear a voice, Peter 3’
‘ No massa--' hear nothing.’
During the darkness and confusion, Tim
slipped into Pell’s room, and with a hos-
phoric preparation, wrote on the wal , the
ominous word ‘ Forgery l’ in large gleaming
characters, picked up the will, and made his
exit back into Peters room. If any thing
could have added to the consternation of the
already horror struck Pell, it was beholding
that terrible word, blazing and twinkling on
the opposite wall. He swooned away with
fright. ’ Peter raised his master in a chair,
threw some water in his face. and religbted
the candle. Pell -soon revived, and was
about hastening to bed, after inquiring of
Peter if he saw nothing on the wall, to which
the negro replied that he saw ‘nothing but
ma.ssa’s cloak hanging dare ;’ and charging
Peter to stay with a lighted candle in the
room all night, he parted his curtains. pre-
paratory to a leap into the bed.
‘ D_on’t come in here, you old sinner l’
shrieked the same voice, issuing from the
bed clothes, but Pell had already thrown
himself upon the bed, where he swooned
again.
Peter threw some water in his face, and
Pell again revived ; but he was so exhaust-
ed with his numcrous frights, that he was
fast sinking into a sleep, when the same voice,
in a singing strain, exclaimed :
‘ Good night, good night, old Sammy Pelll
And recollect ‘twill be as well"
That nought of this night's scene yotuel_l_.'
Tim tiow made his escape from Peter’:
room. and went home. The next morning
he called on Mr. Fletcher, and after due cor_i- -himself; in the "good graces of Mrs.;_‘Wi_n-being so disobediept, and yet,’ he added, turn-
NO. 115.
sultation with that gentleman, the subscribing
witness to the will, a Mr. Sampson was found
and before night the will was duly proven,
and put on record. ’
‘ Do you intend to keep the will ‘I’ asked
Fletcher. .
‘No,’ replied Tim. ‘I intend to return it
There is no fear of forge-rv now, since it has
een provcu and recorded.’
Fletcher laughed. Tim bad of course,
confidentiallycotnmunicatetl to him Illl the
particulars as to the manner in which the
will had been obtainrd. Fletcher rcplit-d
that Tim would make an excellent lawyer.
Pell rose the next morning after his noc-
turnal scene, pale, and troubled in mind.
Peter, in answer to his numerous inquiries
stoutly contended that he had neither seen
or heard any thing the night before, except
the accident of upsetting the table and ex-
tiuguishing the candle.
'It’s very strange,’ said Pell.
On looking for the will, he found that it
was gone l and be no longer doubted that it
was the apparition of the deceased testtitor,
who had visited him the night before as be
was in the act of rtiutilaiiiig the instrument
by forgery, and had spirited it away in a
miraculous manner‘. He kept his room
most oftbe day, gloomy and moody; and re-
collecting the apparition’s parting warning,
he was silent on the subject of the last iiight’s
scene. Night carneion and he retired to
rest. He ‘made Peter sleep in the same
rooin, but allowed him to pi.it out the light.
Nothing occurred during the’ night to dis-
turb his slumbers, but what was his astonish-
ment in the morning on finding that Peter
had left him, and was snoring awav most [It].
musically in his own room. Ifvthis little
fact surprised him, how much was his con-
sternation iucreased by finding the centre to-
ble upset, the candle lying on the floor, and
the will also lying a few feet from the pros-
trate table, all in ‘the same situation as they
probably were, when in his fright he had
overturned the table the evening previous to
the lastl
Old Pell now cautiously approached the
will as it lay on the floor--fiist touching it
with his cane, and then listening, but hearing
D0 110150. he grew more-bold, and at last
grasped it up. and hurried it into the iron
Safe. locked it, and put the key into his
pocket. He next went into Peti.-r’s room,
and after awakening him, asked him, ‘ what
he meant by leaving him and going into his
own room to sleep, when he had been charg-
ed to the contrary.’
‘ I no uuderst-.nid you M.-tsszi Pell.’ _
‘Why, you black scoundrell did’nt I tell
you to sleep in m_v room last night--and
ditl’ut I go to bed, and leave you sitting
there 2’
‘ No, massa 3’ replied the negro, ‘ how could
you tell me det, when you have been asleep
yourself, cbbcr sijnee wig/rt befiare last I’
Pell opened his mouth in wonder, and ex-
claimed, ‘ what do you say Peter? Have I
been asleep ever since iiightbefore last 2’
‘Yes you liab.’ answered Peter, ‘and I
found it impossible to wake you all day yrs-
terday.’ ‘
Pell scratched his head. The fright
which be had endured. bad in a measure
affected his senses, and having but an indis-
tinct recollection of the scene he had passed
through, finding himself contradicted by Pe-
ter in every thing which he attempted to de-
scribe as liaving taken place, and withal, not
a little willing to believe that the horrors
which he had suffered were imaginary. he
finally settled down upon the conclusion that
it was as Peter represented—he had ‘been
asleep thirty-sis: hours, and he had been
d-rea-mirtg--and that was all. He now re-
solved more firmly than ever not to be
thwarted in his designs respecting Eliza, so
he goes to the safe, takes out the will, and it
being day ti me, he felt frarlt-ss. He sat down
by_tbe table, took up his pt-n--and after some
trembling, finally inserted the clause therein,
the purport of which the reader has alreadv
seen. He then wt-ht to Eliza, and inlorrned
son within a month, hinting that it would be
useless for her to protest against it, for if she
should persist in marrying Tim, she would
thereby forfeit all claim to her father's pro-
perty. Eliza had seen Tim only a few hours
before, and she had been told every thing re-
specting the obtaining possession of the will,
and of its‘ being proved and recorded, and
that henceforth it was out of her unclv.-’s
power to do as he had threatened. ‘She
therefore wore it cheerful countenance. when
Pell made the above auuounct merit, and
said--
‘ If I must be married so soon, uncle--as
it is summer, I should prefer that the Wetl-
ding should be at my aunt VVintbrop’s in her
beautiful mansion at Farmiugdell Park. It
will be so delightful to get married in such a
beautiful retreat, and it is only eight miles
distant, I'm sure our friends would be glad to
accompany us.’
Pell, who expected another-shower of tears
and complaints against his cruelty in com-
pelling her to marry Benson, was overjoy-
ed to find her-so seemingly tractable on this
point. and in the exuberance of his joy,
promised her that the wedding should be at
her aunt’s. It was therefore arranged that
Eliza should go to Farmingdell Park, there
to remain until the day of her nuptials. The
arrangement was soon communicatetl by
Pell to Benson, who was, of con rse, exceed-
ingly elnted at his coining prospects, and
consequently put on an extra degree of su-
ercilious behavior towards his‘ classmates,
and rubbed his hands and laughed when he
saw ’ Tim. ‘Let them laugh tliiit win,’
thought Tim, btit he said nothing.
Tim paid but one visit to Eliza and her.
aunt Winthrop at Farmingdell Park before
the evening of the. wedding. How well he
played his card when there by insinuatingj
_._<
her that she must be prepared to m;v.rry Ben-
tbrop, and the result of the consultation had
witli the old lady and her niece, Will be
shown in the sequel of our tale. It is suff-
cient to say that Mrs. \Vinthrop liked Tim"
and hadalways disliked old Pell. Tim com-
municated this secret to mc—_—and requested,
4 that I would appear on_ that evening dressed
as a grooms,ma_n
The day of the nuptials arrived. The.
elite of the country rotind. and of the college
were invited to Farmingdell Park. ~ Tim
anti myself were dressed in the extreine of
fashion, and also procured a coach still more
splendid, at which every body wondered,.in
which we vended our way to Mrs. \Vin-
tbrop’s in advance of Benson and his party.‘
cnnsisfng of old Pell and his groonisrnan.
Having thus taken the lead of the train, by
the application of the whip to our horses, we
found ourselves at the Park some twent(y
uaiuutes before the re_st of the party arrive .
On entering the parlor, \\e found MYS-
TVintlirop, Eliza in her bridall dress,_aiid her
cousin, Mary Winthrop, as bridesmaid; and.
also lllr. Strong the clergyman. to the latter
of whom, Mrs. \Vint_hrop introduced Tim 88
tlte britlegroom, and myself as his grooms-
man. It was arranged that as soon as the
party arrived, and had properly assembled,
tbatlthe bride and bridesmaid and Tim and
myself should take. our stations at the l!pPt‘P
end of the parlor, when the clergyman
should perform the ceremony.
The whole party arrived soon after, and
were a- ranging themst-lves for their appear-
ance in the parlor. Benson, on his arrival.
asked Mrs. \Vintlirop for Eliza, tindwas an-.
swered that she chose not to appear till the
hour _for the ceremony bt-gait, wliru she
would enter the room from the wing adjoin-
ing the parlor, withlier bridesmaid. In less
than an hour, every thing was in readiness
for the ceremony to commence. Pell had
seated liimselfncar the upper end of the roorp,
and Mrs. \Vinthrop was stationed near him.
Eliza and her bridesmaid, made their appear’-
ance from an adjoining room, Eliza led in
her cousin to the place where we uere to
stand. VVe had just arranged ourselves, when
B’-znson with his groomsman came tip and
here considerable confusion ensued. Benson
offered his hand to Eliza, who did not extend
hers. but waving it and curtesying, requested
him to be seated. as there‘-was an unoccupied
scat near her uncle Pe_ll. Tim could hard-
ly contain hiinselffrcm laughing outright,
while Benson was so staggered with surprise.
mortification and disappointment, that be on-
ly moved a few paces back, and looked the
very picture ofdespair.
The lovers joined hands, and the minister
commenced repeating the ceremony when old‘
Pell, who had cast his eyes towards that end;
of the room, discovered what was going on
and screamed out—‘ I forbid the bonus l’
The minister stopped-—-‘I forbid the bonus l‘
repeated old Pell, his teeth gnasbing with
rage ‘ l have never given my consent.’
‘ You have no consent to give.’ replied
Mrs. Winthrop. ‘lVill you please to pro-
ceed with the ceremony, Mr. Strong. Mr.
Pell, this is my niece’s wedding, and in my
own house-—I therefore hope you will take
the hint, and let us have no more of your in-
tciruptiorts.‘
' lsay,’ replied Pell, ‘ tis written in her
father’s will. that she cannot marry without
my consent.’
‘Forgery !’ cried the same supernatural
voice, which Pell well recollected. It came
in a smothered tone-—no one heard it but
Pell and Miss VVintbrop. Old Pell grew
pale-——and said no more. The ceremony was
now finished without interruption, and Tim
and Eliza were pronounced ‘man and wife.’
Then there was titteriiigand la ugbing all O\ er
the house. The students of the college on-
joyed it much. The idea that Tim had so
out generalled Benson in this bvinepial
cainpaignwas too good, and thry laughed
together an hour. Benson -only waited for
the pronunciation oftbe St ittt-rice that Tim and
Eliza were‘ ‘men and wile’-—he then ruslieti
out of the door, followed by his groomsman
and old Pell, and called for his back. Ashe
came rushing out, the students hissed and
hailed him with ‘Benson bow urigallant you
are, running away from your bride.’ His
carriage was soon get ready. and in jumped
Benson, groomsman and old Pell, driving off
at the rate of ten miles an hour.
After their departure, the evening passed
off merrily, the good fortune ofTirn, andtho
discomfitnre of Benson and old Pell ft:rnisl~.-
ing matter of ecn'.'ci'saticn and laughter for
the whole party. The assembly broke up at
a late hour, ant-'.‘:= departed for thtir rcspective
bomcs. .. ' 2 ‘
The next morning the servant annottncetl
the arrival of Mr. Pell at I-‘armingdell Park,
accotupzinied by his lawyer, Mr. Ridgely.
Pell directed the servant to summon Mrs.
Vlfintbrop. 'I‘iin and Eliza to the Parlor.——-
'I‘he servant c'epai'tcd for that purpose, and in
a few minutes they entered the parlor, where
Poll and Ritlgely bad seated themselves.
Eliza broke the silence. ‘You have come
early, uncle, to pay your respects to the bride.
You can’t tell how much I feel gratified and
honored by this mark of your friendship and
soliciludc for my happiness.’ As she said
this, she b(‘ltl an eye full ofrogneish meaning
on’ Mrs. Winthrop and her husband. ‘
Old Pell’s wrath was up. ‘I’ve come to
tell you, madam.’ said be, addressing Eliza.
‘that you and your husband are beggars!
By your disobedience to me, you have forfeit.
ed all claim to your father’s estate, which, by
his will, has now become my property. You‘
and your husband will please never-.,-jsliew
your facts at the Homestead l’ ‘
Tim replied. ‘If you were not an old
man, my only answer to your insolence would
beby softly banding you intotbe street. Asit
is, I have to reply. that unless vou yourselfitn-
mediately quit the Homestead. and render up
as executor, the possession of my wife’s estate,
you will meetwith trouble of which you may
not be aware.’
Mr Ridgely spoke. I have examined tb-.
will ofyour wife’s father, Mr. Jocelyn, and
find the condition in the will, that she was
only to he possessed oftbe property by mar’-
rying with the consent of'Mr. Pell the Execu-
tor of the will, It is therefore needless for
me to sa_v—that any attempt on your part to
litigate so plain a feature, in the instrument,
would involve you in ‘costs. and the‘ mortifi-
cation of failure.’—-‘ Madame,’ continued he,
tnrnin_g to Eliza, ‘you did very. wrong in
by Tim, and-I had the. honor of conducting '
Norwalk Chronicler