. ....P~“t'i.l’p:l:is ll ed ‘
z¢xvvvvv
,....- NIIMBER - 236,-NEW SERIES.
NORVVALK, CT.
Jr. a
ED,
-\
“E-335
ESDAY, MAY 22, 1844.
VOLUME
L
.:\/‘V-VNJ
27—NUMBER 21.
T
Terms of the Gazette.
Village Subscribers by Carrier-per year- -. .$2 00
IVIail do in advance do do.---- 2 00
Office Subscribers, or those living otit of the
Carrier’sdistrict, and who call for their pa-
pers at the ofiice . . . . -.- . . . . .._.._ . . . . . . . . . . 1 5
oiii anies of 5 or more l'eCClVll1"‘ their ia-
P . . . . o 1 ,
Pei-s by mail, ifpaid in advaiicc.. .-.- - .--. 1 a0
Rates of A(I1'e1‘Ei§i_l:g.
One sqiiare—-1Gliiies or iznder—1 lIlSCl‘llOI1.- - 0 75
Two insertions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . -. 0 87
Three iiisertioiis...-. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . -- 1 00
Each following iiisertioii . . . . . . . . . . . . . . -. - 20
Executor’s and Adiiiinistr:itoi"s Notices. - - - - - 1 00
Coiniiiissioiier’s notices . . . _ . . . _ . . . . _ _ _ . _ . _- 1 ..-5
Gtiardiaii, Divorce, and other notices .... -. . 1 00
the square.
Yearly advertisers, on sqii-are, _ _ . . . . . _ . . -. .10 00
payable quarterly. The privilege of yearly ad-
vertisers is limited to their owiiimiiicdiate biisi-
ness.
Casual advertisements sent to this Office, MUST BE
41cco.\ii*ANizn BY THE CASH T0 INSURE INSER'I‘l0i\'
m
.i§'rtlt, t§'zzlt.
60 bushels of Grey Rock Salt, received
by the subscribers,and for sale at their
factory. at the foot of Mill Hill, ground, or in
the lump. The ground Salt willlbe sold in
lfllllia OT neatly put up in Sacks‘aiid Boxes, of
lt'0m_ 4 quarts to half a bushel. for the use of
families, either for the table or the dairy. As
they have entered largely into the business,
they contemplate supplying most ofthe stores
of the County, where the article will be kept
for sale. This salt is thoroughly screened, and
will be put up with particular‘ regard to clean-
ncss. E. PRICE & SUN.
Norwalk. Feb. 21,1814.
@airpci.s° ! Crzrjpcts .7
L. &J. R. Peck liasjust received a large
0 assortment of Carpeting, and will be
sold at prices that will pay those who are in
want of the above, to cail and examine quali-
POETRY. j ,
For the Gaz (5.
MY FATHER.
; l
_ “_Talent and worth, are the only trite gro (ylguineag
.(llStll]Ctl0l1.ill‘ll0l1g men; to these IIC-r’.lV0llllZ1S;ll.\‘(?
its everlasting patent of iiobilitv.”—Mrs. Sec vicl.
“The l'l"‘lltG0l1S shall be l1i1(.l‘Il1 everlasti
5 [lg
braiice.” i
“'_I‘hey shall be mine in that day, when I mltc tip
niyjewcls.”—Bible. '
t
[10111-
. "4
Oliaslr me not his lineal decent,
As if some bliistcring cion, I would sing l,
l\Iy pcdigree—or trace my name to soiiie '.
I’r.oud ancestry, 0, no! I scorn the tlioijglit
It is enough of glory, that lie was, ’
Of this free soil-——a free maii—aiid
Of native bi1'tli.
It is not riecdfiil, that
To worth we add, an adventitious funie.
* * He was my Fatlier;
And I loved him, with a depth offeeling
That I may not tell. And yet, I would not
JOB PRINTING,
OF ALL KINDS,
Execiiiteql at the Gazette (Bflice.
Iy rind price for themselves.
sold unusually low by TL (8; J R Pi,-gig,
South Norwalk, May 1. 18-14.
J. GRUMAN can‘t be beat in selling cheap and Good Goods.
’ l"’bl'° “We "“l.Y 10 (‘all Md ex-ttiiiiie the very cxicnsive cheap and clcgantassoi't-
For proof of this the
merit of Spring and Summer Dry Goods now offering
as @. ed
f/I/Est End {the B/"irlgc, .f‘v79r~zt-a],7;. Cf
24 7 ’o
Merchants and ‘ll tl . ~ - ~" ' . . .
‘l 0 “"5 “ho *"-‘ll l0 tlbtflln ‘be greatest bargains ever (tIIl’.:’C(l in this State.
are requested to give me a call.
in q’.1‘ll)lll_\_I and cheapness.
miles to trade with me as many do.
10 ps Chameleon striped Silks, very rich
10 “ Plain Colored and Figured “
6 “ Plaid Chameleon “
‘Vi t . - . - - .
I i y s .or_e.lias bgen ooiililcil in size, as well as my stock of goods
, _ am "°“3‘V’”.’-5 (100dS tltrcct from the Auction Rooms in New
‘ . 5 * ‘ ‘..’
Xork, and will sell good goods much less than they can be purclvycil in [mg [0 .
less than they can be bought in any othcrstore, to pay m-,.- Cm, H H’
_ For proof '
nothing for examining tiiy Good:=,nor urged to buy.
Sift-gs for:
and eiioiigli
_ -7t‘l.lC‘l‘:i for the trouble ufconiiiig 50
0fllttS.gi\'e me ii call. for you will be cliargttl
I he following are but few efrny new Goods,
.
JSr3”53f€2.
-9 i .- . . .
1-_[‘:SI"ltlltl. Black. from 56 cts to $1
1'7"’ "‘ l->lL_I<’. l3ll<.hg'iired and plain
13 " plain gro do units for 375 cts.
It
.. _
_ . .. , _ .__ .4. _ ‘a“El‘ ° E,
A Spicndid ./%ssor°tin-.ei.s.a. of East t駒iElisaS.
An elegaiit assortment of Neapolitan, A maz-in, Tuscaii,Riitla'iitl,Leo[,.,,-,, and Si,-aw 13,,” new -
Ladies Dress goods of all kinds. qualities and prices; Shawls of all kinds; Blillinery (}0OdS
in the richest profusion—very cheap; the very cheapest a<5.,m,,em ,,fj3,U.,d Cloths eve, Ogcrcd
. . , ., _ ‘ L '
in this State, Summerstulls for Men sauel Boys wearofall kinds
The best and cheapest assortment in this 0 mi _
. - . C l I)’
Prints, bleached and tiiiblcaclicd M llzsllli, by the civic. little, piece 0. y.-ml.
We have here glanced at a few of the more pruiiiiricrit articles, but our assortment comprises
every thing that can be called for in our line.
Our thank are due to our friends and cu sionisrs for their liberal favors for the past year.
F ruin
the facilities which we have now of meeting the wants of the public. in a much increased stock,
and a va riety never before equaled in richness and beauty, we trust tlicv will find it to their inter-
est aud agreeable to their inclination, to keep up their past business l'€l.(-lllt)llSl')l]).
I10-WAS EASTON, S“ goon aim}
ltlechailical Dentist, respectfully
nforms the citizens of Norwalk. that he has
taken an Office in the upper room of Curtis’ new
building, opposite the store of James Mallory cc
Co. where he will be happy to attend upon those
who may stand in need of his profcssioiial ser-
vices. All kinds of teelli inserted in the best
manner, either single or in sets; filling done
wit~‘n gold; decayled portions removed : ir*cgii-
lar teeth remidie .
Dr E. is recently from the city of N. Y.
where he has been in the practice ofliis profes-
sion for the last ten years. No pains have been
spared in perfecting himself in its various de-
partments. Particular attention will be given
to correct the irregular growth of teeth in chil-
dren and young persons. which with proper
treatment may be made even and beautiful.
Careful parents will give this subject the consid
eration it deserves.
Rqfcrcnces.—Rev. Edwin Hall. Rev. J.J.
Woolsey, Rev. S B S Bissell, Hon Clark Bis-
sell, George St Jobii. Alfred Mallory. Wm. K.
Lewis, George Meeker, George Hoyt, 2d. Wm.
C. Street, S E Gruman, C J Grumati, George
Marvin, Andrew Turney, Capt. W J Merritt,
all of Norwalk; Sullivan Moiilton. \Vestport.
Terms reasonable, and all operations war-
ranted .
SADDLES,-'IEi$RNE3SSES, &c.
HE best and most varied assortment of
Harnesses, Saddles and Bridles, Trunks,
Valic-es, Carpet Bags, Martingales, Halters,
Carriage and Riding Whips. 560- €'C- lltfll. has
ever been kept in this place or vicinity, may
now be found at the Store of the subscriber,
nearly opposite the Norwalk Hotel.
This is no empty boast as any one may see
by calling. For workmanship and beauty, as
well as service. the work which he offers can-
not be surpassed. Also :
Saddle and harness Trimmings of all kinds,
Sad(ller’s Silk, and a general assortment of
articles usually called for in establishinents of
this kind. _
Also. a good assortment of Elastic,and Webb
Braces of his own manufacture, made for
durability as well as convenience.
The above articles, the undersigned pleuges
himself to sell, as low as they can be found
elsewhere. The patronage of the public is
respectfully solicited. _ _ _
N. B. The strictest attention paid to all kinds
of repairing. \ViLi.iAii1 B. SWAN.
Norwalk. May, 8, 184-1. 19
NI O'I‘lCE.—Whcreas my wife Hannah,
_'_ having willfully left my house and board,
without any just provicatioii, this is, therefore
to forbid any person harboring or trusting her
on my account. as I will pay no debts of her
contracting from this date. LEMUEL BROOKS-
;qo,waii., April 30, 1§t4_-ti .30
Regular Line Pas/gets,
Eloisa Jbficeo E/aortic.
Sloop Mary A. Scl-
leck, Capt. J. Eyxliee
_ leaves Norwalk every
.::,_;___T{_T5-f’;‘_;;'I‘l)CS(l21y evening frir3-
James Slip, and rcturiiin;-; will lmive New York
every Saturday. The Sloop Domestic. Capt.
T. K. Mcrrills. leavc-sNorwalk every Saturday
and New York every Thiirsday.
The above Sloops are nearly new. and on
the liighyn-cssztrc yariiiciple, and will sail as fast
as any other m:iii‘s Sloops running as market
Boats. \Ve are glad to get aiiyttiing to carry
either way that. will help pay expenses, and
do:i’t expect any hody’s custom if we can’t
accommodate them as well as any one else
along shore. Come and try us and satisfy
yoursclf. NOAH SI-:LLi~:cK,
West side the Bridge.
Norwalk. March 15. 18-14. 12
For e/‘Ween Eforlc.
-\ THE fine fast sailing Sloop
‘fir J u l i a, Captain Grumman,
has comrrieiiced her regular week-
ly trips, and will contintie to leave
the landing at Five Mile River every Tuesday
evening, and James’ Slip, New York, on Sat-
urday, through the season. Freight and Pro-
duce of every description conveyed on the most
reasonable terms. All orders tliankfiilly
received and punctually attended to. Apply
to the Captain on board, or at the Store at the
Landing. The subscriber returns his thanks to
the public for their liberal patronage during the
past year and hopes by a strict attention to all
business entrusted to hint to merit acontiiiuance
of their favor. VV. C‘ SAMMIS.
March 6, 18-14.
Elam Jbfecso Eforfe.
Trips for the Season.
The fast sailing Sloop, 1‘?Ial'y
‘Willis, Capt. VVillis J. Merritt
will commence her regular tripsto
..,,m,,,,.,_,,,,,,.,,Nexv Slip. New York, on Tuesday
next—lcaving Norwalk (East side the Bridge)
every Tuesday evening, and returning will
leave New York every Saturday throughout
the season. All kinds of Marketing and freight
will be received on accommodating terms.
Capt. Merritt tatiders his acknowledgments
to his customers and friends, for their patron-
age during the past season, and solicits a con-
tinuance of their favors.
Norwalk, Marcli 1, 1844.
AlLS.—-100 Kegs Cut Nails assorted,from
2d to 6 inch, for sale by STREET 6:. Cmiir.
Regular
Ur; . '-.-
Also. a handsome lot of Rugs. which will be
Call him back, ifat my beck, the spirit world
V/oiild yield him up. I
Such was his deatli——
So calin—so peaceful, and so very like
A dying Stiiiiiiicr’s day. ’-‘ *
* * Long years a gone,
\Vheii l was yotiiig, my saiiitcd Motlici' died,
And then, tiscciidcd tip, with dying breath
A p1'ayc1‘ to I'It:tt\'t2ll—‘G0(l bless iiiy iiifiiiit lio_y
'l-:00)'0t1l!g to \\‘eep—to fell my loss, too_voiiij
’I>‘0i' could Ikiio\v,wliy otlici'lic:ii'ts should blec
I_was their I felt a Fat'ner‘s fond caress,
Vt‘ hile his wariii tears, fell thick iipon riiyche’
And 1l‘lllll_)’ r'1te1lflCl' fibril of my soul,
Has citing zirotiiid my Ftitlier for those tcars.,~'
But niziny years have iiitervciicd. and time
\'l'ith tireless wing hath borne me on, till now
§l.-‘-iillllil in iii.'iiiliood’s riiggcd path and stout
ioisteroiis citrrciit—:iiid its tide, alone.
The flowers, that in my lifc’s spriiigtinic I cull.
Are witlici"d all, and strewn along my path '
A11fl.ll'l0SC that stiirtetl with me in tlievrace,
Tho’ light of licart, but few with me l‘t:1‘.1t1li1 ;‘-
I’et iiieniory comes, and like a crystal foiiiit
She liiihlilcs tip, from the dark chambers of l.
The stricken soul, some fresh iiiciiiciito of l
The btiricd past.
And here, my Fatlicrstaiidj
Upon her tablet graveii true to life,
I see the very form he iised to wcai'—
His figure, beniliiig ’iieaLli the weight ofvcars—i,
His forehead \vriiil-zlcd with :1 weight ofbtirc "
His locks toiicli’il by the hoary hand oftiiiicj
His eye hezitiiiiig with kiiitliicss. and his voice,‘
So iiiilil——:<o c:iliii——iiishot‘t, so like liiiiisclf.
It is my l"at.lici', and a sacred clitirni,
Attends each l't}l11l!1l>‘CC1lCC as it comes.
0, Mcniory! thott woiidrotis power ! lsccm
To stand in thy tzl-ear light and see the honic. .,
The liiil-sidc—:iiiil the little gi'ove—:iiitl ll(?Xl7,,l
The iiplitiid, \'.'ith the village Cl!l'.l'L'-ll-—?ll}'.l then
My eye is diiii—-—iiiy heart is fttll_, and I ;
Detliiiik me, this is htit a dreaiii.
Fzirewcll—-
My Fatlicr is NO moat-2 .'—hc died in peace.
I wotild not call him back, if the cold grave?
Obcdiciit to my voice, coiil-:l yield her dead-
Biit I will come, and lay myself l)£¥:s‘l(lt)
Hitn soon, and we sllilll sweetly sleep.
Nrit't\':illr_ .“.?':iy lst. 194.1 A ‘-
1 .
.
itiiscinl LlL_.~.lli§i§r.
QUAl(l3l’i. AND I-]lGlI\VAYMA.'\l.
Toby Simpton, a pattern to Qiiiikcrs, an-
hiibiied a neat little liouse in Lontlon,bcati-
l.lfit'.'d by the prcsence of his tliiugiiter ll/I:-try.
She scarcely scrcritceti, ii bcaiitiful blond
with blue eyes and poss-xssing as niticfi ws-
tloiri as l)l‘itlliy, was sotiglit after by all tilt’
voting men of lief f.itht-r’s acquaiiitiint:e.-
Those of the iieighborhood tried in vain to
vin a smile. Mary was no Coquette, arid so
fur from turning to account the effect produ-
ced by her chiirir.s, she felt so much al'}l's:f')yt?Cl
by it, tli-it she Ct)llltl hardly treat with civility
her many admiri-rs—only one—Etlvai'd
\'Vcrsfnrd, a young artist who was inti‘ ate
with lrniily. ’
A simple OC(‘.t]l'l‘C‘l]CG \\’t1Sll')('¢ cause oftliis
intitnicy, Preriiature death had taken awiy
the wife of the Q‘ltll{9f, still in her youth and
he wishing to prwprztiiate the memory cfpnc
so dear to hint, bud called :1 painter to thcr
r'e.ith-bcd. It was there, that Edward first
met the afflicted tlziiiglitci‘--—tliei'e bctivieri
the tears of one, and the sacred employiiiut
of the other, grew up a serious flllilclllllffll.
The year passed since that L'V(‘nl. only set'v_-rl
to strengthen the band formed undcr suzh
Cll‘CUmS;i.ttf2L‘t‘S, and the young mart hadEil-
i‘eriily ventured to declare his hopes and fe-
sires. Toby had no reasons for opposing he
inclinations of the young people. ‘Withuit
being rich, Edward earned by means of lis
brush and pal‘e'.e, enough to honorably sis-
tain #1 family. His father, Mr. VVersford,tn
old city merchant had retired with an iro-
riiense fortune; a rare example of repeated
success in speculation, so rnpid however,
that few persons had been able to follctv
them. Mr. Wersford being of aqtiick stern
diposition, lived alone, in the west end of
London without troubling himself about his
son, and leaving him to shift for himsclf.i—-
He was one of those obliging egotists, W o
trouble no one, in order not to be troubled
tbemselves—one of the most perfectly coni-
plaisant. provided nothing is asked of them.
Edward had nothing then to hinder his
courtship of the fair Quakercss, knowing
well that her father would not oppose bet‘
marriage. The situation of the lovers was
most prosperous and honest. Toby wtiitrd
for nothing to fix the wedding day, save the
back rents due on his farms, intending to set
apart that income to defray the expenses of
the occasion. lVith this view he left for his
country sent, a few miles from London, in
order to arrange his affairs. He was absent
but a single day, and returning at night on
horseback, be perceived a little in advance,
a horseman who "blocked tip the road. He
stopped for a moment, uncertain whether to
proceed or turn back. VVhile in this predic-
ment the stranger advanced towards him.——
It was too late to think of escaping, and put-
ting the best possible frice upon the affair, he
started his horse again. As he approached
the troublesome stranger, be perceived that
he was masked, an unpleasant iiugiiry of
what was confirmed. The unknown drew
, this money.
jflllantllflg his purse. The Qiiukcr was not a
coward, but calm in character, tinolfensive in
ya-ligion, and unable, unarmed, to resist an
armed titan, so he drew from his pocket with
great coolness his purse containing twelve
The highwaiyman took it, counted
the money, and let the poet‘ devil pass, who
\belicving l'iiu.self clerirt-cl, qtiicked bispace
I
llo a trot.. But the highwziyirian seeing how
;-little resistance had been offered and hoping
for more booty, soon t‘t-joinctl honest Toby,
\ and again blocking tip the wiiy and pointing
his pistol, cried out—-—_your watch.
The Qiirilrer, although surprised, did not
show it in the least, and cooly taking out his
'g'\'.’t1lCli, and noticiiig the time, placed the
ljewel in the hand 0lll’1cll1lt‘f,S£‘tyll‘lg—-
Nosv I pray you let me go home, for my
daiighter ulll be uneasy at my absence.
One iiionicnt, replied the masked cavalier,
growing more hardened at his continued
'docility, swear that you have no other sum.
I never swear, replied the Q.lli1l{t‘l‘.
Vift-ll, uflirui then, that you have about
you no more money, and upon the word of
highwayman who will not resort to vio-
lence towards a ini.ii who yields uith so
tiiucli grace, I will not furtht-r molest you.
Toby l‘t.'ll3ClL‘(I a iiioineiit and shook his
head.
Whosoever thou art, said he gt‘-tV‘.’ly, you
liave notici cl that I am ti Q.!1t1l(€i", who would
not conceal the truth, although at the risk of
my life. In my sadtllc-Lag I have the sum
of two llllll-1ll'L‘(.l poutids sterling.
Two llllll-f.ll‘t.'tI pounds sterlingl cried the
, higliwnyiiian, tvhose eyes glistciicd throng-lr
his mask.
If you are good, if you are humane, re-
plied tlie Q.'lttl{C‘l‘, you will not take au_'a_y
My daugliter is about being
ff1ill'l'lt‘?(l and this sum is necessary for the
occasion; it would be 8 long time before I
could get l0g€l.llé_’l' tt si llllul‘ one; the dezir
child loves her intended, and it would be a
t.‘.l"l1(.‘l)tl'lln_'_I to delay their union. You have
:t lica.-t. “You liave loved p0|’l1‘-195, Y0”
would not, you cannot, do so wicked an ac-
tion.
‘v'liat has your dauglitcr, her love, or her
€lL'll'l'li‘tJe to do with me? Fewer words and
3‘ more promptness! Give me the money.
Toby, sighin, i'-.iise.‘l the saddle bag, took
out :1 heavy sack and lianded it slowly to the
masked mun. Tlicn attciiipted to gallop ofi.
Hold on, my Quaker friend, siid theothcr
sziziriq the bridle. The moment of your
ai'riv.il _vou,\\'ill denouiice me to the fvliigls
“flue; ‘luv-,1 is usual, and I IIJEVC IlOllllllg ll)
S.) V; but I iiitist at lr-rist be beyond pursuit
to night. My mate is feeble enough and
what is more, she is fatigued; your liotser
on [hp comr-,1ry, appears VlgOl‘0llS, lol‘ the
we-ight ofthe sack did not cncuinbcr hiiii;
tlismotint, give me your horse, you may take
mine if you wish.
It was too late to think of resisting
althottgli the increasing demands were of at
nature to heat the bile of the most patient
t’l’l‘.ll'l, good Toby disinoiirittzd, and with resig-
nation took the sorry jade that was left in
t;-xchiinge. Had I lriiown this, he contented
himself with thinking, Ishould have run
-iwiiy whcii I first met the rascal. and
certainly he would never have overtaken
me with his coursci‘.
l\‘le:iriwliilc the masked man. llianking
him ironically for his compl.:is=.tnt:e, burying
his rowels, disa ,r-peairtd.
Bi.-fore arriving in London, the pltinileretl
traveller had time to reflect upon his situa-
tion, and upon the tlieappointmcnt of the poor
young folks, who loved each other so much
and whose happiness would be postponed.-—
The stim taken from him was irrecoverably
lost; there was neither means to find or
recognize the audacious thief; nevertheless,
as though struck by a sudden idea, he stop-
ped short: _
Yes, cried hc,I may succeed by this
means. If this man resides in London, per-
haps I shall be able to find him. I’Ik‘ttV(’D
lins, doiibtlcss, dcterniined thatiie should be
iriipruclent.
A little consoled by the thought. Toby
went home witlioiit. appearing in the least.
troubled, and witliout speaking of his adven-
ture, he did not go to a magistrate, but ‘em-
braced his dziiigliter, who doubting nothirig,
retired and slept soundly. Next morning
he bethought himselfto invoke. the aid_ of
Providenceinmakingresearches. Bringing
out the tnare from the stable where she had
passed the night, he placed the bridal upon
her neck, hoping that the animal, guided by
habit, would naturally go to her master's
house.
He let. the unchecked beast go free in the
streets of London, and followed her. But
be overrated her instinct; for a long time
she walked about making a thousand turns
and curves, without object, without direction.
stopping, then starting in a contrary direc-
tion. Toby dcspairing. he thought the
thief never resided in London. How silly I
was not to notify the magistrate before it was
too late, instead of depending on his animal
to find the vagabond.
He was lnlt-‘l'l‘ltpte(.l in his reflections by
the cries of children who had been nearly
trod upon bythc mare; a moment since so
quiet, ‘she now started to run. Stop her, stop
her, cried every one; let her go cried the
Qiiaker, in the name of Heaven don’t stop
her. '
And following with anxiety the course of
the animal, he saw her enter a half open
gateway of a splendid residence at the ‘Vest
end of London.
’Tis here! thought the Quaker, raising
his eyes to Heaven in thanks to Providence.
Then in passing before the house, he saw a
servant in the yard patting the beast and
and conducting her to the stable ; be then ask-
ed the first man he met, the nariie of the
proprielor ofthe house. What are you a
stranger in this part ofthe town,tliat you do
a pistol and pointed it at the traveller, de-
!not know the residence of the rich merchant
l Wersford ?
The Quaker stood petrified.
Werslord repeated the man, bi-lieving him,
.sclf iriistinderstood; you know well the man
i who has made so great a fortune. Thanks
my friend, thanks. replied Toby.
He \\ as unable to recover himself.-
Wersford. Edward’s fatht-r—-a respectable
iiia'n—he my thief!
He believed himself
dream and wished to return liome. Never-
theless he called to mind several iiistanccs
of respectable men; who had been connected
with the bands of malt-factors: than his im-
mense forirnc, the source of which was so
uncertain, ll’.t:'l’l this more which seemed to
be going to her master. Toby resolved to
solve the mystery.
He wcnt boldly into the yard and demand-
ed spei ch with the master; although it was.
nearly noon, was still in bed——aiiother iridi-
cation ofa night of fatigue. The Quaker
insisted on being intrcductd immediately.
and soon found himself in Wersford’s bed-
cliiimber. He had justau-alced.and rubbing
l.is eyes, asked a little out of humor; who
are you sir, and what do you ivant.
The sound of his voice awakrned the
Q,'1at ker’s recollection, and completed his
conviction. Qiiietly taking a chair be post-
ed himself near the bed withotit removing
his but. You remain covered .7 cried the
surprised marchaiit. I am a Qiiaker, repli-
ed the other, with much calmness, and you
know that such is our usage.
At the first word of the Quakci‘, Vlfersford
sprang up anil closely exatiiiried his visitor
\'t.7itliout doubt he recognized him, for he
lt)l‘I'iH(.l pale. \Vell, asked he, stamiiiering,
\\'l'l-’ll. is if you please thtv—————
tilt‘ Subject which brings you tliithei°’.?
I ask p.ll"ilUl'l for liiiving shown so much
haste, replied Toby, but among fit. iids it is
not usual to stand tipon cerciiiony, and 1 am
come, without form, to ask for my watch,
which yeti borrowed yestt-i‘tla_v.
Tliv--—-—-i\-atch !
I valurd it much, it was my poor‘ wife-.’s
and I cannot do without it. My brother-iri
law the Alderman would never pardon me
for letting «'1 jewel which recalls to mind his
SlS'.t’I‘. piss out of my hands for a day.
The name of the Alderiiian seemed to
make some impression upon Wcrsford, and
witboiil waiting a reply, Toby cotitiriiii-d. ’
You will oblige me by rcturningtliosc
ton guineas which you borrowed attiiosiiiiw
time; neverthv-less, if you’re in want of them
I consr-nt lending them to you, on condition
you give a receipt.
The CO0lnt‘SS of the Qtiaker so much dis-
concertcd the merchant, that he dared not
deny posses-ion of the stolen articles, but not
willing to acknowledge it, he hesitated to
reply and Toby added:
1 have told you of the projected niiirriage
of my daughter M:-try. 1 had reseiwd a
sum of two hundred pounds sterling for the
bride’s portion, but I have_.‘ met with an ac
cident last evening on the London ro:id,I
was complt-tely robbed, so completely that I
am come to pray you to give your son a
iiiarriage portion, which had it l-Ol. been for
that, [should never have asked you.
My son.
I-It-bl Yes; don’t you know that it is
him tliat is in love witli Mary, and that he
is to marry her.
Ed \Vitl'€lI cried the merchant, throwing
himselfat the foot of the bed.
Edward Wersford, calmly replied the
Quaker, taking a pinch of snuff; let us see,
do something for him. I should dislike to
lt-t him know what has passed to night, and if
you do not furnish the sum I have promised
it will be necessary I should tell him lioiv I
lost it. W/ersford ran to the Secretary, took
out a box with a triple lock, opened it, and
placed i_n 'I‘oby’s hand, his watch, the
purse, and his sack of money.
Good, said the Qtiakenon reccivingthem,
I now see that I was right in depending up-
on you.
Is that all you wish? said the merchant
in a brisk tone.
No. I require something further of your
‘friendship.
Speak.
You must disinherit your son.
How?
I You must disinherit him; I do not wish
it said that I have speculated upon, your for-
tune.
And finishing these words, the quaker left
the chamber.
No, murincred be, when alone, children
are not bound by the faults of their parents.
lMi.iry shall marry the son of this man, but
touch his stolen money never!
‘/Vhcn in the yard again: Ho my friend,
cried he to I-Versford, who was looking‘ out
ofthe window, please to order my horse to
be brought out.
A few moments after, Toby, ivell mounted
carrying behind, his bag of money, and pro-
vided with his watch and purse, at a moder-
ate. pace, regained his house.
Ihnvejiist made my marriage visit to
your father, said he to Edward. whom he
found there. I believe we shall be able to
agree.
' Two hours afterivard Vt’ersfoi'd arrived at
Toby's house, and taking him aside—Hoii-
est Quaker, said be, your proceeding has
touched me to the bottom ofthe soul; you
might have dishonored nie—havedishonorcd
my son. ruined me in his eyes, and made
him unhappy in refusing him your daugh-
ter: you have acted like a wise man and a
mart of heart; I wish no longer to blush in
your presence ; take these papers—good bye
—voii wiil never see me again.
He then left—the Quaker opened the pn-
pers. First. there were checks for large a-
mounts on the first houses in London; then
came a long list of names, and by the side of
each name was placed the amount (if larger
the butt end of a
or smaller siims—a note was ntljoincd to it.
uponwbich the Quaker read as follows:
.‘Tlic~:;e are the names of those who have
been robbed: the figures, the amounts which
ought to be returned; draw the money from
my bankers as though for the purpose of
foreign exchange, and then make. yourself.
the restitution secretly. All which rcrnains
will be my legitiinate fortune. - and your
daughter will some day be able to accept
my inheritance.’
.,, The next morning Wersford had left Lon-
don, and till believed that he had gone to
live on his income in France.
On the marriage day of Ed ward and Ma-
ry, the Qiiaker assembled ii large company
ofjoyous friends, among whom might be no-
ticed a number of persons rejoicing them-
selves uith the proceeds oftlie,,London, thief
who by the interference of Toby, had been
induced to return them all their lost property
with interest.
IIUMAN LIFE.
Our life is biita changing dream, _
VVhicli flies like moriiiiig’s golden beam.
. Sitodgrass.
How changed and Vflfltd are all the scenes
of human life. Our years are the mere
sport oftiine. Our happiness is almost con-
tinually pcisoned by some earthly alloy-—
and the sweetest pfeasures we ever experi-
ence, 8fl0l'(l but zi momentary realization be-
fore they are past and gone. The changes
and alterations of this passing world inces-
santly taking place upon every side,—and
no less so in respect to ourselv« s. than the ob:
jects we behold around us. Theirresistable
wave oftimc, r-v-.~r and anon nears our dwell-
ing, and bears from us in the icy arms of
death, some dear Lbj ct of our affi ttions.——
Our morning’s joyoiisness may be changed
to eVt’nlDg,S1St1(lll€SS. And our most flatter-
ing prospects, darkened in an unexpected
hour, by uuwelcoini d adversity. To-day
otir society he courltd by the devotees of
ft]Sl‘il0l’l. wealth. or fame, and shine in all the
gilded trappings of luxury——and ere the set-
ting ofto uiorrow’s sun, otir bodirs may be
rack» d with pain, and writhe beneath the cold
grasp of pt-miry and want.
How often do the iricantaticns of to day,
presage the sorrows ofan tinhiippy liercaftcr
Our calculations are (3'\'€l' liable to be frus-
tmtt-d,—and often are plains which we have
.l«‘ll(l with rntzch anxiety and care, for the con-
siimmation occasioning us only disappoint-
fl'l(‘[ll and remorse. Many of us are widely
seprirated from the companions of our youth
native land, and all the endetirments of child-
hood’s happy home. Between us and some
of our endearing and affectionately beloved
friends, wide oceans roll, and others are
screened from our view by the sable curtain
of the tomb. Such is hiiiiian life in all its
peregrinntions.frorii giddy youth to venerable
a,qe——alike in the ll0lI‘tt‘lt’GS wanderer cloth-
cd in rags, and the princely 0(‘('|tpurii. of the
marble palace, attired in the habiliments of
wt'.'tllli and treasure.
So it is with all surrounding nature. Vile
siivake at early dawn, and stroll abroad to en-
joy the healthy fragrance of the new born
air. Everything we hear and see aflords its
pleasure and dc.-light. The verdant wood-
lands of nature are vocal with the songs of
their native \varblers,—the sweet scented
fields are laden with golden grain,-the
meadows are fresh with renovated bi‘-iitities,
-—while here and there, amid the folded
blades of grass, may be seen the modest lily,
and inviting rose. The babbling brook is
now loosed from its wintry chins, and the
whole aspect of nature seems to wear it smile
of indescribale lovliness. Again we awake
and take another view, but lo, those charrris
are gone. Those delightful objects we so
shortly beheld, are seen no more—the bab-
bling brook is now hushed in fr-tters of ice
——the lily, and the rose. no longer bloom-—
those fragrant fields are new bleached with
t.=noiv—-and our sweet singing birds have
sought a more congenial homo bentiih some
sunnier sky. Such is earth. Such are the
scenes which are daily displayed in the
great drama of human life. To day is sun-
sliine-—to morrow the dark tempest bowls,
and chills otir existciice. The ingenious
painter will almost make the senseless can-
vas speak, but the lines of his pencil soon
grow hitn. The euxiiiosly enquririg student
of nature, curious to see and explore the un-
bounded wonders of his God, roams this wide
world o’er, and at last leaves, like it Howard
perhaps, his bones to be buried by the hands
of strangers, in a foreign land. The ambi-
tious hero, thirsting for martial fame, lays
waste the peaceful cities ofltlie earth, and fills
an innocent world with suffering and hu-
man woe, and at last dies like a Napoleon,
perhaps, in the soriibrous shades of solitude,
far from country, home and friends. And
the declamitory politician, brilliant scholar
8l'ld.fi(‘.COmpllSll(‘d statcsmamafter having won
the brightchaplets of their country's fume,
and enjoyed all the honors which a grateful
people can confer, are in a few short years
the unconscious tenants of the silent grave.
such is the mournful history of human life.
This solves the enigma of man—-he was, but
is not. To day he gives laws to nations, or
controls the destiny of empires--to marrow
his body cankers in the lowly dust. And in
view of this. how beautifully has one of our
own native bards exclaimcd—
“’Tis well—for little would I care
To swell the rolls of high renown;
’Tis fondness all for empty air-—
The Prince shall moiilder with the Clown.‘
But amid all the changes and transmuta-
tions of earth, there is one thing which re-
mains unaltered. lt is a flower of immortal
bloom. Its betiuti-. s never fade,—but like
the priceless diamond. increase in brightness
as they increase in age. Its name is_Virtue
—a name that will live when the aspirations
ofgenius have fallen, and the proudest mon-
uments of earth shall cease to be.
Norwalk Chronicler