‘I’;__'Attorney and Counselor at Law
.
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I’UBLISH
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NUMBER 293---NEW
D EVERY TUESDAY MORNING, BY
3 L 3 gtfniiiilgp Eiebapajiir.---digiitutth tn Ztnuil items and jijiitiiisti, Cfénirrzil Eiittlligeiiti, Efittuit
A. HOMER BYINGTON,
lift, Zijulitits, itgticiiltiiri, Eitlitljziiiics, tip ‘Art
AT TWO DOLLARS PER ANN UM-‘--IN ADVANCE.
it
SERIES.
NORWALK,-‘CONN. TUESDAY, AUGUST 9, 1853.
5, Q::Ill't_tli.lllll, iffc. tit.---Qfistziiilislgeh in 180121.
VOLUME XXXVI.---N UMBER 32.
9: cassava.
an
.1‘..-
L78 Q SSW]
A H BYINGTON,Editer& Proprietor.
Ofiire ii‘.-xi sun» the Bridge 7'" L"°"“"3"
BziiIdi‘ng. aver store‘ 0f F- St‘ J°""”‘
SUBSCRIPTION RATES :
\'I‘.l-age Subscribers by Carrier, per year, - $3
do‘ When not paid in zulvancrf b _ _ . , - o
Ev Mail and Post Riders do. same as it owe ‘ “_
Those living out of any Cai'riei"s.I)lS'fl‘1°t: “ml ‘-5! mg] 5
at the Dllicc for their Papers, in ad:-aiife-_ 2 00
Wlien not paid in advance - - ' ‘- ‘V
153* A liberal rcdiiction made to Llubs.
ADVERTISING RATES.
. .-
~ . . .. ~ -' ' n 40
One Square, 16 lines oi less. oi Breiier, in5€£1° 5 88
. do, do do (I0 ‘l0 3 do 1 00
do do do do do_ ‘ 1 00
'Per month. for continiiauce, tlicrontter - 1- m lte '
. - . . _- - - mi :
Xearly mlvcrtisers, l'Pattlcl1(!Ll1l0 their pi:\\ pw:.,‘_mr 1,)
b ' x ' e : unre lll(' nc in-r pap ', . j:
. . \ h 3 -- - - t
rp1,,,l:,s,|3:!\.?.’.,.I,i-,,:-,:ii <,,,.:’ ,.t.,,,.1;u£;1.1\-or-tiseiiieiit do 1.: 00
. . . - 60 00
One Column per year, subject to 4 tli.ii_13f” , 1 00
Special or l£ditoi'ial .\v0'[ll.'E‘.>‘, pei'_V>'tl1'-1‘3“.°E(£';:efi;Te mu,‘
Obituary .\otices, Resolutions. i\c. c iaig
_...__._ —~————————
BUSINESS l)lltIi}C'l‘lVlIiVY¥-NW
J. I‘. roorn.
Attorney and Counselor at Law,
OFFICE OVER .711./iLLORY’S STORE,
No1'\\'alk, (E;
V.
I 0. S. Ferry,
N orwalk Conn.
JOHN us'1-ears
niautniiia nouns
Over 1). 8;. N. D9130‘-
NOR.\VALK-
L i k e n e s s e s
I/Vavmn,terl to -plmse all Goorl Judges.
Norwalk Post Ofiice.
.Mail Closes—Wus'r, 6.45 A. n.,
“ “ EAST, 8.45 A. 31.,
.Moil
P
P
Due-—WES'l‘, ' M
“ EAST, 7.30 .i. .\l., 2.45 . M.
R. A. WILLIAMS, P. M.
Dental Gard.
R. HILL, will continue his professional
business at the old stand, over C. J.
Gruman’s Store, foot of Main Street.
N. B. I)r. Hill is prepared to supply on a
new plan, some of the most beautiful, and diira-
ble specimens ofAi-tilicial dentui-cs, i-.\'e.r exe-
cuted in this country; -.in<l, by an 1ll‘l‘itllg'0-
ment, with one of the best .\li_-chauic-.il I)}‘lltlSl.‘
in the United States, he can ensure toliis pat
rons, some of lllC"IIl0.\‘l (.'07)L])ft‘f(.’ and pczjrcl .117‘-
tifieiul .Den!ist-ry in the I-Var]:/.
Silver and Plated spoons.
THEY :10 Say that (Ila/-Ir has tlielargest and
best assortment of Silver and Plated
Spoons. Forks, Butter-knives, Sugar-sliovcl.s_.
Mustard and Salt-spoons, ever before offered in
any case in NOl'\\’:Lll(, and that he does sell thc_m
very cheap and cngravcs the name on them in
a very superior manner. If there are any who
do not believe it, let tliciu call and be coiivin
ced, at No. 2 Skiddy’s Block, Sign of the Red
‘7aIch.
STEEPLE CHASE‘.
Tl-lb} proprietors of the OLD CONNECTI-
CUT oxsn store _woiild reply to the iiiqui-
ries, put by their friends during the past week,
that they are located here permanently, and
their goods are all new. The stories which
have been put in circiilatiou to the effect that
we have come here “just for a __fl_i/e-r".from
New York, to sell an ‘~ old stock of goods" are
base falsehoods, and known to be so by those
who originatml them. Our goods are all new
and beautiful stylcs—-at least our customers
think so. ' _
We are satisfied there are “old goods in
town” and "' old styles,” but they are not at
the “Old Connecticut” cash store.
PLATT tit NASH.
Among our stock of “fig:-d Dry Goods’;
may be found a splendid stock of ladies’, gents-
and children’s hosiery. _ P. X7 N-
‘ Norwalk, June 11. 18.33.
Looking Glasses, Willow Ware, sic
QUINTARD dz SONS have at their ware-
Eg rooms a t'cw rods east of the bridge, a
large assortment of cabinet furniture, consisting
in part of sofas, centre, card, book, tea, work
and kitchen tables of various kinds, mahogany
and black walnut marble top dressing bureaus,
plain drcssin g bureaus, common bureaus of all
prices, some as low as $5 50. Mahogany, bl’k
walnut and maple bedsteads of various pat-
terns and prices, some as low as S2 I_’atent
bedstcads that can be put up in three minutes
and without a key. lilahog-any, curled maple,
bl’k walnut, kitchen and windsor chairs.——
Cliildren’s table and low chairs. Willow wag-
ons, cradles and" chairs. Looking glasses of
all sizes and prices, from 25 cents to 310.
Spring matrcsscs, the best and cheapest beds
in existence. We will .deliver any furniture
purchased of us (to the aiuount of 510 or over)
in New Canaan. Wilton or Darien free of charge
and free from damage.
Ready .Made (,'ojflns.——We have constantly
on hand from 100 to 150 coflins of niahogany,
black walnut, cherry and whitewootl of £11151’!-GS
and descriptions, which can be furnished ata
few minutes notice. We also fnrnlsll ShI‘011(l9
and everytliiug necessary for the interment of
the dead, and will see to the digging Of £?1"1V?5
when i-eqiiestcd_ We will attend fnneI‘3-15 In
Neiv Caiiaaii, Wilton and Darieu, without extra
charge.
45“ E. QUINTARD & SONS-
N. B.——PQ1‘S(illS wishing to purchase burial lots
in the Norwalk Ceinetcry may make application
to us. -
—--—-w-—%—.__. _ __.._—-————-—"‘
N. YORK CITY, FASHIONABLE
i /
BIILLINERY.
IiUO.\l:; A'l' .\lo'r'r l’i..ici«:, SECOND FLOOR.
“IV [SS PlLGRl.\I would announce to the La-
J. dies of .\'orwnlk and Vicinity, that She
11-'13 .rl1St_ returned from New York, with the la-
test -S_1iriiig Styles. both for Hats and the Mate-
1-ialslqr inakiiig them ; which she will open this
week for iiispcclioii and sale. Those wishing
5'~"““'3 ”!9_‘i“'°tl- Will please present them the
week previous.
1\'ori\'alk, .\l-.iy 3Ulll, 1853. tf13
. _Lace Goods &,c.
Ti~IE richest, lziigest and cheapest agggftment
lot Iligzia (:i()0\(l.K', l’.l\‘l!.lS0l.S, Summer Dress
[us ins, cc., in fin-wu ,,—, 1-0..‘ -. -
.ne One Price Casi) Store. L“! U1 this any at
. 1’l-A'l‘T & NASH.
,5 “1ALCl.\'l3l) l’lastei' and Cem_cnt.W-1t
J G. l-I()L.\lE,s & (30_
"T. )OWDEll and Sliotin any qiiiiiitiiy. at _
.- G. I*lOL.\lES & C0.
. Napkin Rings,
,_ ILVER and Plaleil, a new lot, and cheap
at DISBJi()W’s, ’
VOODEN Warc,—Eipc, W
IKE, at _“
LOGIC WOOD’S_
r
i,’ JORT MONNAIES! Port Monnaies, at
,1 CLARl{’S, Sign of the Red Watch.
Pure Vegetable Hair 011.“.
‘2_', -OR preserving, beautifying and giving
gloss to the hair. Good for ladies, gen-
ieii and children. We know its good qual-
W. E. BISSELL
OULD invite the attention of this and
the neighboring community to his vast
stock of goods, (to which additions are weekly
being made,) comprising a full and general as-
sortment of
FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC DRUGS,
selected with the greatest care, and from the
best which the New York market will afford.
He has also a choice selection of
Perfumery,
Including Lubin’s extracts of all kinds, cologne
water in a variety of styles, etc. His stock of
PATENT MEDICINES,
Comprises an immense variety, principally of
articles which have gained a reputation among
the people, and are valuable medicinal prepara-
tions. ,.:
He would invite the attention of-‘the ladies to
his FANCY GOODS,
which are too numerous to particularize, and
which for taste and elegance are beyond all ri-
valry in this vicinity.
Very particular attention is paid to preparing
I’HYSICIAN’S PRESCRIPTION S,
and supplying families with pure and unadulte-
rated medicines. His prices will compare fa-
vorably with those of any other establisment.
Pure Wines, Liquors, Scotch Ale and Porter,
selected expressly for uicdicinal use.
LACKING as is Blacking. It need only be
applied to the leather with a sponge or
brush. It needs no ru':bing, but makes a fine
polish, will not injure the leather, but makes it
soft, and is a good preventive in wet weather.
For sale at LOCKWOOD’S.
Ilratches.-Jewelry, Silver and
PLATED WARE.
AM happy to say to the public, that my
new Jewelry Store at No. 2, Skiddy’s Bl’k.,
is still in successful operation, and the very lib-
eral patronage bestowed is proof positive that’
goods are sold very cheap. '
I shall open on Monday in addition to my
present large assortment, another much larger
stock fine Gold and Silver Watches, Watch
Chains, Seals, of kcys,ladies’ ear rings and pins,
finger rings, &c., together with a large lot of
Yankee Notions. ‘
I will sell Gold Lcpin Watches 18 carrot ca-
ses, for -0
Gold Anchors, 13 jewels, 25
Silver Patent Lovers, 20
“ Patent Levers, full jeweled, 25
3%“ Anchors 13 jewels, 12
“ “ jewels, hunting cases, 15
“ Lcpincs, 4jcwcls, warranted, S
“ 4 jewels, hunting cases, 12
And all other Watches in proportion. chains,
seals, keys, rings, &c., will also be sold less
than can be bought in N orwalk.
Silver spoons made niider the direction of
Mr L. Clark-—w:irraiited piii'c and fashionable.
Plated Spoons and forks in any quantity
haiiilsonicly engraved. Knives, scissors, port
monies, razors’ tea bells, Sc. plated and britan-
nia ware, cake baskets, castors, the.
Watch repairing, engraving on spoons, collin
plates, rings, &c., will be done by i\lr. L. Clark,
who gives his undivided attention, and the con-
stant increase of -Wittcll work, engraving, job-
bing, &c., is sure proof that the public appre-
ciate his skill and punctuality.
‘ 0. S. CLARK.
Be sure to, call at Clark’s New Jewelry
Store, No. 2 Skiddyis block, sign of the red
watch.
Norwalk, June 24-, 1853.
New York & Liverpool U. S.
MAIL STEAMERS.
THE Ships composing this line are the fol-
lowing:
A'rL.ix'ric. Capt. West. PACIFIC, Capt. Nye.
Ancric, Capt. Luce. BALTIC, Capt Comstock.
ADRI.-\'l‘lC, Capt. Grafton.
These ships have been built by contract, ex-
pressly for Government service. Every care
has been taken in their construction, as also in
their Engines, to insure strength and speed, and
their accommodations for passengers are unc-
qualed for elegance and comfort. Price of
passage from New York to Liverpool in first-
class cabin, $120; in second do., 370; exclu-
sive use of extra-size state rooms, $300; from
Liverpool to New York, £30 and£20. An ex-
perienced surgcon attached to each ship. No
berth secured until paid for.
PROPOSED DATES OF SAILING.
FROM xi-1w roux. 1-‘non i.ivEnPooi..
Sa.turday..July 9 Wedncsday..July 13
Saturday..July 23 Wednesday-.July 27
Saturday.. .Aug. 6 | Wcdnesday..Aug. 10
Satui'day..Aug. 20 Wednes_day..Aug. 24
Saturday..Scpt. 3 Wednesday-.Sept. 7
Saturday . . Sept. 17 Wednesday. . Sept. 21
Saturday-. Oct. 1 Wednesday"0ct. 5
Saturday..Oct. Wednesday..Oct. 19
Saturday . . Oct. W educsday . . Nov.
Saturday . - Nov. Wednesday . . Nov.
Saturday..Nov. Wednesday..N0v. ‘
Sa.turday..Dcc. 10 Wc(lnesday..Dec.
Saturday..Dec. 24 Weduesday-.Dec. 28
For freight or passage apply to EDW’D
K. COLLINS &' Co., No. 56 Wall-st., N. Y.;
Buowx, SHIPLY & Co., Liverpool; E. G. Rou-
ERTS 8: Co., No. 13 Kiug’s Arms Ynrd,London ;
Jonx Muxnon its Co., Rue N orte Dame dcs Vic-
tories, Paris, or Gi~:o. H. DRAPER, Havre.
The owners of these ships will uotbc account-
aable for gold, silver, bullion, specie, jewelry,
precious stones or metals, unless bills of ladiug
are signed therefor, and the value thcreofthero-
in expressed. 3y
15
29
I2
26
EW WATCHES and Jewelry, a fine lot
this week at DISBROW’S.
NORWALK
READY MADE CLIDTIIING
E M P O R I U M !
UNDER CONN. HOTEL.
Cheap ! Cheap !
[]:?Quick sales and small profits, is the
motto, at SLOMAN & TURK'S.
Without a"ny Humbugcry,
IIOLMES dz CO’S Grocery is tlic place
. calculated for people to go to gi:t good
groceries at prices with small prolits iittaclied
to them, and purcliascrs will always Iiiid their
goods to be as represented, if anything contrary
from this, they may be returned and the money
refunded. Children are always paid pa‘ 'ticular
attention to, when sent to their store.,,‘ ,
Goods delivered within a reasonable _ stance.
A T C HE _
Brushes, Lanips, Girundoles and J. ,
We have a very large stock of Watch-"
and all sorts of-Jewelry, pla-
ted goods in any qnantity,the largest astortment
of stand and other of laiiipswcliai'c,evg1- of.
fcred ; a great variety every kind of goods usu-
uany offered in la Silvcrsmitli’s Store, New
. ever wee '.
Goods yy _ WORK.
THE subscribers health now upcrmits him to
give his personal attention to‘ Watch rt.-pairing,
Engraving and general Jobbing ; we. know that
every kind of work will be’ done to the entire
satisfaction of 3,ll_Wll0 call. We know we can
afford to sell goods cheap. we leave it lor our
customers to say wethcr we do. . _
Go to DISBROW’S. near the Bridge.
Lightning Rods.
THE subscriber is prepared to furnish a new
and very superior Rod for the protection of
buildings from injury by Lightning. Adapted
to buildings of all sizes, and put up at short no-
Goods. _
es to select ll'0II1:
xx.-v-vs.-.-...z.,\.\../vvxzxzxrsmac-.\,v. »'\\*\Iv\/\/~/\f\
F or the Gazette.
Agriculture.
FRIEND BYINGTON :——There is no oc-
cupation, in which mankind may engage
that is more in conformity with health,
happiness and case than agriculture. In
fact, it is one of uature’s “manorial gifts”
to nature’s nobleman — the Farmer.”
And this “ Heavenly gift” is destined to
resign as “nature’s acknowledged King”
till this planet shall cease to pursue its
revolutionary journey. And as year af-
ter year are numbered among the things
that were, this avocation will rise high-
er and higher in the scale of perfectin-
progresses, as it were, practically
and theoretically, has a higher mission
than that of supplying “ the million”
with food. It cannot end here. If it
did, the songs of the “muses”—the lauda-
torial praises offered to its shrine by the
orator and prose-writer would be super-
fluous, There would be no propriety,
then, in such a case, for the poetaster
and naturalist to wander in the realms
of “imaginative fancy” that they may
acknowledge its magic charms. To
judge a tree by its fruit, it must be ad-
mitted that this rural occupation does,
and increases to exert an influence over
the minds of men; and that its ultimate
mission is to eunoble them materially
and spiritually to throw its angelic influ-
ence around them; and, as it were, be
their guardian angel to the “ spirit land."
As things exist with the farming com-
munity at present, this “ naturalistic av-
ocation”does not exert that elevating in-
fluence that it might. The fact of this
is, that the mass pursue this as an end
—-not as a means. They seem to per-
form their part upon " the stage of ac-
tion” as though they had nothing to live
for but to accumulate property, and, as
a consequence they neglect to elevate
themselves physically, morally or spirit-
ually. Iu my mind’s eye, methinks that
God designed that they should follow it
as a temporary means to support nature’s
physical wants, and, after having done
this, they should cultivate their intellec-
tual and spiritual nature, with view of
preparation for a future life.
A man while engaged in agricultural
pursuits, has many facilities to gain a
practical knowledge of some of the
. most important sciences, while pursuing
his daily avocation. These are Geolo-
gy, Chemistry, Botany, Zoology, and
Ornithology. Most of them would
prove a practical benefit to him in a pc-
cuniary view, as from these, he would
learn the productive properties of his
soil, and also obtain information as re-
gards the kind of grain that would flour
ish on his land. And this is not all.-
While pursuing these studies he will ac-
quire a more extensive knowledge of the
laws that God formed to govern vegeta-
tive nature, their harmonious operation,
which would irresistably impress upon
his mind the wisdom_ of the Creator,
and alove of the Creator's works—at-
tracting him ultimately to heaven.
How it would cheer one’s drooping
spirit, to see our agricultural friends, ma-
king efforts to elevate themselves physi-
cally, intellectually and morally. If
such were the case, one would natural-
ly think of that time of which Christ
spoke, when peace and purity will reign
triumphantly throughout the world-
when it would be the joy of angels to
visit our sphere. I anticipate, and that
in strong faith, that that era, will at last
assume its angelic and welcomed power,
though it may he centuries before it is
consummated, and my desire is, dear
reader, that we may live and act our
part in such a manner as to hasten that
welcomed hour.
I was educated, practically a farmer,
and although I do not follow that occu-
patiou now, I love to see that class pur-
suing a progressive course, and my sym-
pathies are with them in all their under-
takings. Aiid, Mr. Editor, if you sho’d
deem my correspondence worthy of
publication, I would be pleased to ad-
dress you and your readers alternately,
upon agriculture and other useful sub-
jects,and, if by so doing, I suggest an idea
or ideas that would be of any practical
benefit to you, I shall feel amply rewar_
ded for my labors.
A. K12i.Lr PHASE.
Bridgeport, Aug. 1, 1853.
Cm'cuZ2'0.——S. Maxwell, J r., commu-
nicaies to the Greenfield Republican,
the following discovery: .
“ I have within a week discovered a
factiabont the curculio, which was new
to me, and have also found it new to
others to whom I have communicated
it. All those who have had fruit bitten
by the curculio, have probably noticed
a little brown spot on the inner edge of
the crescent shaped puncture. That
little brown spot covers the egg left by
the bug, and the puncture seems to be
made for a place of safety for the young
worm when hatched, and also to facili-
tate its operations in boring into the
fruit. Persons having plum trees, and
leisure, and wishing to preserve a few
of the fruit after it has been bitten, can
1;. i and warreut evciy bottle, at
-. -;i.,'-_
tice on reasonable terms. _
' -\I. C’ '
‘I .sv,‘.-Hi .
-".I' l! -
voint of" iv‘ '" **:-.=i' I aim-
. Y -.
~~~.-.. - . :
, -._i . , ....,i. ..
bility. This science, (for it is one) as it,
POETRY.
/V\r\\.v\/‘Iv vv~.vv~.~
vvvvv.
nr\r~/\/\r vxvvx.
The Song of Steam.
BY.» GEO. W. CUTLER, OF‘ COVIXGTOX, KY.
Harness me down with your iron bands-
Bc sure_of your curb and rein ;
For I scorn the strength of your puny hands
As the tempest seems a chain.
How I laughed as I lay concealed from sight
For many a. countless hour,
At the childish boast of human might,
And the pride of human power!
When I saw an army upon the land,
A navy upon the seas,
Creeping along a snail-like band,
, Or waiting a. wayward breeze ;
-When I marked the peasant faintly reel,
‘ With the toil which he faintly bore,
As he turnedaway at the tardy wheel,
Or tugged at the weary car.
When I measured the painting courser’s speed,
The flight of the carrier dove,
As they bore a law a. king decreed,
Or the lines of impatient love!
I could not but think how the world would feel
As these were outstripped afar,
When I should be bound to the rushing keel,
Or chained to the flying car!
Ha! ha! ha! they found me at last!
They invited me forth at length !
H1u‘1‘ah! hurra! the waters o’er,
The ocean yields to my strength!
Tiiuc, space, have yielded to my power;
The world—the whole is mine !
The giant streams of the queenly West,
And the Orients flood divine.
The ocean pales where’cr I sweep,
To hear my strength rejoice,
And the monsters of the briny deep
Cower trembling at my voice.
I carry the wealth and lords of the earth-
Thc thoughts of godlikc mind ;
The wind lags after my going forth,
And the lightning is left behind!
In the darksome depths of the fatliomless mine
My tireless arm doth play-
Where the rocks ne’er saw the sun’s decline,
Nor the dawn of glorious day.
I bring carth’s glittering jewels up,
From the hidden caves below,
And I make the fouutain’s granite cup
With the crystal gush o’erflow!
I blow the bellows, I forgo the steel,
In all the shops of trade ;
I hammer the ore and turn the wheel
Where my arms of strength are made ;
I manage the furnace, the mill, the niint—
I carry, I spin, I weave;
And all my doings I put in print
On every Saturday eve.
I’vc no muscle to weary, no breast ti) decay,
No bones to be “laid on the shelf ;”
And soon I intend you may go and play,
‘ While I manage the world myself!
But harness me down with your iron bands,
Be sure of your curb and rein;
For I scorn the strength of your puny hands
As the tempest scorns a chain !
ANNIE MAY.
Gone from the hearts that love her
Gone from her home away ;
Gone in her childish beauty,
Little Axxin DI.-\Y.
Gone like the moon-1ight’s glimmer
From off the rippling stream :
Gone like the joyous pictures
Of childhood’s glowing dream.
Gone as the flowers of tearful spring,
Gone as the dew at morn ;
Gone like the songs of summer birds
Fled as the stars at dawn.
But in a land of beauty,
Of never-fading flowers,
Where care and sorrow come not,
(A holier clime than ours.
She dwclleth now, and kneeleth
Beside the throne of God,
In praise to Hm who raisetli,
The spirit from the sod.
MltS<l§Eiyb.ftN'Ef.
From the IV. Y. Organ.
THE GREOLE WIFE.
A Romance of the West.
By MRS. M. A. DENISON.
The strange earnestness with which
she spoke the last word thrilled his
heart; his allusion to his buried wife
unmanned him; and then the pallid
whiteness of that sweet face, so dim in
the gloom ; the earnest gaze of those un-
earthly eyes. A great temptation beset
him. He was sure that if she knew the
truth, in her present excited state, it
would be her death, or worse—destroy
her reason. How could he withstand
her imploring glances-—how behold her
perish before him? .
guish of his child, as she asked repeated-
ly, “Is it true, father '3” weakened his
resolution. He yielded to beggar his
soul yet more, and in a husky voice mur-
mured, “Believe it not, my child.”
“It is all false—it is cruelly false,” she
whispered, twining her arms about the
neck of her parent, and drawing his
clammy brow towards her lips.- “Some
enemy hath done this; it is all false.”
“But, father, do you know how strange
your manner was?” she murmured, after
:1 short pause. "And your eyes looked
so, and your—your—-”
“Say on, my child.”
" “Your breath, fatl1er—it was wine. I
tremble when I think of it, for don't you
know what you have said so often '3”
“VVhat have I said, Grace '3" he asked,
abstractedly. '
"Why, father, do you forget '3 That
you would never d are, in the greatest
sorrow, to drink deeaply of wine, for you
knew it would master your reason, and
For a while he resisted; but the an}! _
“Father, father, you are in that dread-
ful mood again. I hardly wonder;
it almost killed your poor’Grace; but it
is a resort so dreadful. I don’t know
why it is, father, -but I can't bear the
thought—of your tasting wine, I mean,
you know.”
“Grace, does a thing so trifling troub-
le you, my child E” asked the judge,
mourufully.
“Oh, my father! trifling! Is it trifling
to become a by-word, a reproach-—a——a
—I do not like to say the word, father,
for you never will be one; but strong
minds have fallen; and do you remem-
her, you have told me I am your:good
angel ; is it wrong for me to warn you '3”
"Wrong! my good angel? Yes, you
are my good angel; my very idol, I
fear,” he exclaimed, suddenly rousing
himself. “Was it the wine'3 Oh, the
wine ! Do you fear for me, my child .9”
"Yes, father,” said Grace, softly and
earnestly.
“And would you have me promise
you, my child, my good little, protecting
angel; shall I promise you never to
touch this enemy 3"
“Oh, if you please, father. Come what
may, whatever disappointment, don't
touch it. I have often wanted to ask
you, at dinner, when sometimes it has
made you act so wild-like ; but I had no
courage. Oh, father, will you promise
me '3”
“I will, Grace.”
“Never to touch it—not even to sip
it !”
“Never to touch it——not even to sip
it,” repeated the judge, solemnly. “My
dear Grace, the habit was gaining on me.
Thank God ! you may save your father
from crime more than once yet.”
“From crime !”
“I mean You know I speak as
all men do, Grace. We are liable, in
strong temptation, to do wrong, and let
those thank God who have an angel
daughter, as I have, to put forth the
protecting hand.”
Had Grace beheld the quivering lips,
the tears rapidly chasing each other
down those furrowed cheeks, her sensi
tive heart would have taken the alarm
instantly; but she was sweetly resting,
her head half on his bosom, half on his
arm, delighted that she had found cour-
age to ask the momentous question, gra-
tified at her father’s promise. Her faith
in him was unbounded, and she never
questioned his sincerity.
It is not the first time that an innocent
child has been the instrument of saving
II: is not the first—-
an erring parent.
will not be the last.
Silence succeeded for one little mo-
ment, and the judge answered, “It is
false.”
“I knew it,” she exclaimed, exulting-
ly. "Oh, my father! who would wish
so wantonly to bruise my poor heart?
I knew not that I had an enemy. That
terrible, terrible letter ! I remember
nothing of its contents, save one thine.”
“Never mind it now, Grace ; but sleep,
love, sleep.”
“If it had been true, father, I should
have gone mad, 1 do believe I should.”
“I doubt it not,” he replied, moodily.
"Oh, dear father, it is so sweet to feel
relief from such a burden. Now. father,
go to your own rest. It is late, is it
not? You can leave me; I shall sleep
soon.”
“Not till I have seen you in dream-
land,” he murmured, in his own playful
manner, though his very brain was
burning, as though coals of fire had been
literally heaped upon his head.
She smiled, and soon sank into a gen-
tle slumber; but the wretched man did
not leave her room. All night he knelt
in the same place, almost motionless,
finding in a kind of stupor the relief that
sleep denied,
The next day, early in the morning,
Grace, calm, but pale, followed her fa-
ther into the study, and hesitating as he
sat down by his writing desk, she said,
very softly, "Father you will forgive me
that I put any faith in that letter yester-
"day; I am afraid I said some strange
things.”
Judge Stanton started, and turned his
keen eye upon her.
“You look so very sick this morning.
dear father, so pale and haggard, indeed
it must be very hard, very, to be charged
by your child with such, such a crime, do
forgive me father, I think I was hardly
in my right mind, indeed it all seems like
a dream, like a painful dream ;” she mur-
mured, striviug to smile.
She had but ceased to speak when
Sheriff Courtney entered the room hasti-
ly in company with a lady, closely veil-
ed; he looked extremely agitated, and
approaching Herman, said, “My dear Sir.
this is very painful to me, pardon me,
and above all, explain the meaning
of the strange situation in which
I find myself unexpected placed. I say
it with reluctance, sir, butI am forced to
3 arrest you at the instance of this lady,
who perhaps you recognize.”
Grace, half fainting, had sunk back
upon a chair; the judge sprang from his
seat, stamped upon the floor, and gazed
that it would not take much to make you
. . ,_n :, ‘_.‘._n.,
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~.;-
"'~.'vT"V§~?H.‘l?:-iz»n~v.
fnriouslv around him.
terror. “Why is the sanctity of my
home invaded, and the feelings of my
child made sport for your reckless farces?
Am I the judge of this‘ community *2
the tool of every foreign imposter that
chooses to blast my fair fame? I warn
you,” and his lips, deathly pale, were
covered with froth; his eyes gleaming
with maniac fury. “I warn you that I
will not abide this mad sport iuuch lon-
ger.”
Rosa, alone dared to face him ; she
threw back the thick veil that clouded her
beauty and fixing those glittering eyes up‘
on him till he quailed, she said, in low de-
termined tones, “Do you dare call me an
imposter? Look again upon my face--
these garments; and her shawl failing to
the floor displayed her mother’s bridal at-
tire.
Grace flung herself at his feet, and
grasped his knees. "Dear father,” she
exclaimed, “who is this strange woman?
oh! my poor head is so dizzy—\vhat is
with me, father?
Ol‘
the matter with you '3
why has the sheriff come '3 why do they
persecute us thus? they surely will not
take you to prison, dear father they can-
not make me believe my father is a crim-
inal;” and she turned her eyes full of
tears towards Sheriff Courtney, who hard-
ly less in the dark than herself, looked on
in surprise.
‘ I only know, Grace, that I have or-
ders to indict the judge,” he said in a less
steady tone.
“Oh! you will not take him from me.—
VVhat has he done ? not that—not that ;’
she said wildly, her mind for a moment
referring to the cruel document. of yester-
day. Father, i‘on’t glare so, if you hnew
how it distressed me, oh! what an awful
hour it is, father speak, don’t glare so,
you make me fear you father
“\Vhat, my wretched child '3"
“ VVretched—wretched—why am I
I am not wretched except
'9!
wretched '3
that I know not the cause of this cruel
treatment. ’
“Fathei'," exclaimed Rosa, in a deep
voice, while Grace looked at her with a
anguish she did not try to conceal; “Fa‘
ther for such I must call you, though you
have forfeited all right to that holy title,
unless you confess me your child by an
honorable marriage, before this young
woman, your disgrace must be made pub-
lic. You cannot avoid it. Your poor
wife still lives, and there are clouds of
witnesses ready to testify to the fact 0,-
your desertion. Tell her, then, it is all I
ask, that I am your lawful cl1ild,notslie '3”
Grace relaxed her hold upon her fath-
er’s knees; an awful pallor overspread
her face.
“It is false,” muttered Stanton, fierce-
ly, feeling everything at stake.
“False!” exclaimed the excited woman
“Do you so dare to perjure your own
soul? Did you not marry Lelia Velas-
quez, iii Cuba, and desert her three years
afterwards, before I was born '3 Did you
not marry again, when God and your con.
science said no '3 And is not this child of
yours illegitimate?
During this speech Grace had slowly
crouched down to the floor; her
fair hair sweeping the carpetin rich inas-
ses; her hands clasped till the veins seem-
ed bursting; her whole attitude one of
the most abject shame. Crushed, hu-
miliated most cruelly, a strong sense of
her fathers guilt weighed heavily upon
her.
long
“Save yourself, father,” she whisper-
ed, averting her head; “never mind
me. Oh! father, peril not your soul for
my sake. I will be calm. I will bear
it. God will support me. I will try to
bear it. Confess, father, do confess !—
I—will—not love you—any the less, you
will still be my fai.her,”she faltered.
The haughty ‘Vest Indian stood look-
ing with astonishment upon that noble,
fragile creature. Hu\V she could thus
hear so heavy a trial, was far beyond her
comprehension. She would have up-
braided him, she would have cursed him
nay, been tempted by the hot, impulsive
temper that her poor mother had be-
queathed lier, to have silenced him for-
ever; and she shrank from the white, an-
gel-like face, as if it was too pure for the
gaze of one so much less hallowed.
“Father, father,” again said the plead-
ing voice; “do not peril your soul for me
do not,” wliispered G-race again. “Oh, I
entreat you, listen to me. Father, con-
fess everything, if it will save you from
public disgrace—sucl'i a disgrace 3"
“Then may Heaven forgive me 3” 5:11.
tered the wretched man, suddenly awa.
kening to a sense of the enormity of his
double crime. “Yoi1 who have brought
the keenest anguish to a father’s heart—
you, daughter of Lelia, Stanton, are my
lawful child ; and you, dear Grace,
whom I love better than anything else
on earth, better than my life, my blessed
my adored child, you are the offspring of
an unlawful marriage. Now curse me,
and let me die!”
“No, no; I cannot curse you ! If all
desert you, I will not; and rising hastily
she flung her white arms around her fa-
ther’s neck, while the stern judge wept
like a child.
“Are you satisfied with the wreck you
have made '3
Does the misery of this
s..-.‘ .. 1"-.l 'J.Z*!‘.‘.‘E’.' 1' '" ~ " ‘
soon to be united with an honorable man
allied to a proud family; but now that
my name is sullied, how can he wed her
0! ‘my God! is justice satisfied ?”
Lifting her hand with a deprecating
movement, Rosa only murmured. “My
mother!” then, with branched cheek and
streaming eyes, she left them abruptly.
“This will be a secret with me, Judge,”
said the sheriff, much affected.
“Thank you from my heart, Courtney;
but it will out. The girl, if she has the
diabolical temper of herinother, will leave
no means untried to make it public.——
But I deserve it;” and he wrung his
friend’s hand; “I deserve it, Courtney,
and for myself I could bear the shame;
but that sweet child must suffer for her
father’s sin. It is a hard thought.”
‘*VVe may suffer together,” whispered
Grace. Poor child, she was scarcely
conscious she lived.
CHAPTER VII.
“In the dread hour, how the frantic soul
Raves round the walls of her clay tenement.”
Rosa urged her steed at a rapid pace
down a dangerous declivity. A most
beautiful ravine had tempted her rashness
and the chancellor, more gallant than da-
ring, had followed at the risk of his-
bones.
Her delight was unbounded, and her
lover felt amply rewarded by her expres-
sions of intense delight, as she surveyed
the little enchanted spot.
“It revives my fairy-tale days,” she
said, jealously. “There is just the spot
for the tiny creatures to hold their court
in, and I am almost inclined to come here
some moonlight evening and surprise
them at their revels. By the way, I am
getting in love with this wild western
life; what do you say to a winter’s so-
journ? It will be a novelty to me, you
know, to see hill-top and tree-top spark-
-ling in their crystal robes.”
"You will perish !” replied her devot-
ed lover, reining up his steed as the bean-
tiful v/oman paused for a moment.
“Not I,” she answered, laughing mer-
rily. “I verily believe that, among the
Arctic regions, my heart would keep my
body warm ; don’t you '3” and she gazed
archly into the chancellor's face.
“I would willingly go that distance for
the sake of possessing such a heart,” said
he, gallantly.
Her reply was a ringing laugh, and
he dashed on with such eagerness that
her companion, who bestrode a heavy
and somewhat dull animal, could with
difficulty keep pace with her.
the judge '3” she asked again, turning her
brilliaat face towards the chancellor.
“Only that he keeps himself in seclu-
sion, and has resigned his office.”
“Is this affair generally known '3”
“It appears to be. I learn that you
father is making preparations to move
further back."
“That will be well,” said Rosa sighing
unconsciously. More than once the im-
age of that fair-haired girl had intruded
itself between her and happiness; more
than many times she had felt that the
gratification was a bitter one; but she
satisfied her conscience by saying, “He
shall sulfer till I think proper to release
him. He deserves all.”
Grace was still pale and silent; she
conversed but little; she was drooping
daily. Herman saw the change, and
with a stocial determination prepared
himself for the worst. Grace had receiv-
ed a letter from Horace, full of the most
endearing terms, yet manly and consist-
ent. He deplored that he must delay his
return, perhaps till spring. His honored
father had deceased, and left his affairs
much embarrassed. He wrote as if full
of trouble, and lamented his loss in terms
of the most heartfelt grief.
It came like a sad foreboding to the
desolate spirit of the suffering girl. Alas
how had her young life been suddenly
darkened! This, then, was the substance
of the shadowy soul. 0, how sad it
seemed that she, the gentle, harmless
child of a saintedmother, should feel con-
stantly such bitter, intense anguish, so
terrible that at times she longed for
death.
Nor yet did she for once find it in her
heart to hate the author of her misery.
No, her pure love turned with a steady,
undying flame for the guilty father. The
more his heart was scathed with fires of
remorse, the more she yearned towards
him. But she had grown so sensitive
that she secluded herself almost constant-
ly; her drooping eye was seldom raised
in mute reply to the thoughts of another;
she shrank from contact even with her
dearest friends, all of whom sought her
society for her own sweet sake, and with
the affection of olden times. Every day
this gloom and melancholy increased.-
She became sensible of a peculiar nerv.
ous dread at the sight of her nearest asso-
ciates ; and so painful was its nature that
her whole being thrilled with cold horror
and she would often fly to some dark cor-
ner and weep unrestrainedly.
The letters of her lover, impassioned
though they were, would send that unde-
finable shudder through all her veins,-—
the same mysterious, creeping awe, the
same fainting at the heart, and she would
._ ..i .
,-‘fl-,i ~ " -- "
. .,
V‘ l.‘n.
“Have you heard anything further Of‘
These impressions or forebodings——calI
them what you will---gained fearfully up.
on her. The scarcely perceptible tinge
faded wholly from her check, leaving it
marbled and thinner ; and a.__line of pm-
P39» in "0 W33’ mamug the Sikeetness of
her youthful face, had settled amund her
eyes.
“Grace,” said Herman Stanton one
_day, as he sat watching the poor gg~1’5
white fingers, busy with her work ;‘~._
“would you like to go back in the woods
where we might live by ourselves mime
return of Horace? Could you bear the
seclusion of a forest life '3” '
“Oh, father! if you will !” exclaimed
his daughter, clasping her hands, and ga-
Zing‘ fixedly upon him; “I shall be hap.
py again,” she would have said; but the
words died in heart, and she murmured
instead, “Since grandfather died, I have
longed to go from this place.”
“I was looking at a very comfortable
little cabin last week, some ten miles from
here, eastward. It is owned by Hartley
and muclidilapidated, but can be repair-
ed, and made quite a convenient resi-
dence.”
“Let us go, father.”
“And when Horace comes back.”
Grace shuddered, percepibly; her fa.
ther hesitated, and did not resume his sen-
tence.
Both felt a vague and uncomfortable
fear, which neither dared divulge to the
other. , As they sat in silence, there came
a sound of liorse’s feet tramping furious.
ly over the ground.
They turned to the window; a high
mettled steed dashed past, his reins dan
gling after him, the thick foam dripping
from his lips, his wild eye distended and
glaring; on he fled as if a legion of pur-
suers were after him.
A lady’s saddle hung dripping from his
reeking side.
“He has thrown some one, father,“
shrieked Grace, in terror.
“See,” was his answer, pointing to r
crowd gathered a few feet from their
dwelling.
There was a great uproar ; Jtltlgn
Stanton’s name was vociferated, “Yes, t--
Judge Stanton’s,” chimed in a dozen of
voices. Grace looked trembling from th.
window; two or three men were Iiftin
the body of afemale from the ground; the;
bore the burden on, and paused at thu-
Judges entrance.
“Bring her in,” exclaimed Herman
hastening to the door, while with fac-
half averted, Grace stood timidly near.
They bore the woman up the steps.-
Her long black hair all unbound, hung
in spotted masses over the face, near];
hiding its outline. They laid her, help-
less and moaning, upon the low study
couch, and Grace, with unsteady finger-
aiid nearly closed eyes, loosened the cor-
sage of the rich habit, and then shrinking
at the grasping breath of the sufferer,
crept from the bedside to make way for
the Physician.
had just entered the room as the doctor
parted the matted hair, and threw it back
from the ghastly face upon the pillow.---
VVith one look, his own face blanched,
he shut his eyes, shuddered, and breath-
ed a whispered groan. Grace heard it;
her quick woman’s instinct divined the
cause. She moved slowly by the side of
the physician; a suffocating weight op-
pressed her brain as she beheld the nev-
er to be forgotten face of Rosa, her fath-
er’s child. Even in her distortion of fea-
ture, the pale woman was very beautiful
and for an instant the thought intruded
itself, how could he desert one whom she
must resemble? In another moment a
sense of utter forlornness cameover her
and when she saw Herman bend above
his insensible child, and even press his
hand upon her pallid forehead, when she
marked the expression of tenderness that
lighted up his sad countenance, and the
large tears shining in his gloomy eyes,
her strength left her, her sight grew dim»
she heard only the beating of her own
heart, and shrank into a seat, lost in pain-
ful reverie.
Not that she was jealous for a moment
or feared that the beautiful stranger would
become an usurper; it was a feeling of
utter desolation.
“O! that I could die,” she mentally
ejaculated, again and again.
A faint moan parted the lips of the suf-
ferer, and with effort unclosing her eye-
lids, she whispered, "Where am I?”
"You are safe,” answered the physi-
cian, motioning the Judge to stand one
side, but not before she had detected his
presence.
“Carry me home; I will not stay
here,” she exclaimed, faintly.
“Your wounds areserious ; at pres-
ent you cannot be--removed.”-
“Carry me home; I had rather die
than stay here I will not stay here,”
she exclaimed, again rallying all her
strength for' the effort.
“Come and speak to her,” murmured
. the physician to Grace, thinking that he:
face, all gentleness as it was, would sub
due the haughty creature; he saw by
the rolling eye of.the invalid, that deliri
um was near. , ,- !
Grace, scarcely qonscious of what 3])
'..- .;
Judge Stanton, he still bore the prefix -
Norwalk Chronicler