m, LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. S]].clf.::/.£. UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. p: ?mw. MeYskistei. riest Itoateiliei NO. I. OSAWAGAH'S MARRIAGE ; OR, THE rRHHISTORIC INDIAN MAIDEN. NO. II. MARY MORELAND; OK, SUCCESS WRESTED FROM DISAPROINT.M ENT. NO. III. LOU POM ROY; OR, AN INNOCENT OIRL SAVED FROM THE GALLOWS. NO. IV. HUSBANDRY; OR, "CAT( IIINO FISH ON L(H''rV HILLS." HENRY IVISON, Publisher, XO. gy GENESEE STREET, ACRURX, X. Y 1884. L, 35 im^boMQ WblsBen ^^ Pesm Meiskttsi, BY / mimQT. \ ♦ » //^A7e V I VI SON, Publisher, NO. gy GEXESEE STREET, AURURX, .V. V 1884.. 1'^ I-2ntcrcd according to Act of Congress, in the year 1884, by HENRY IVISON, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. V CONTENTS. PAGE OSAWAGAH'S MARRIAGE - - - . 7 MARY MORELAND -..--. 17 LOU POMEROY ...... 33 HUSBANDRY . - * - . ^ - 49 PxHEFACE. OF tho sweet delicious GiiiseuLi' That Inisks in Heaven's sweetest smiles, Hestowiiig its mite of sunshine To cheer the rugged ways of man, Few are they who live at this day >\'ho know its histoi-y and fanic Or wh}' it e'en a price should bear. l)ut steam from the singing kettle Helped Robert to run his steamboat Against the rivers rushing tide — To astonish nations "round him And by Washington place his name. And so this trembling Ginseng plant Helped an Emperor to his bride, Led to lives of joyous sunshine And l^ecame souvenir of jo}'. Its home 'mong the Dakotas and the .Sioux Where the dense forest shuts the sun from view, On the baidvs of each wild murmuring stream That wanders like a restless poet's dream, There, 'mid tufts of moss and the adder tongue, Hath it flourished, unhonored and unsung. The pale-face behoklcth no worth in thee. No virtue, no vahiable quality ; But far, far away, on another shore, A nation Avho boasts w^ealth in ancient lore. Sees in thee treasures with vahies nntoUl More precious than pearls or rubie?? or i>oIn>n>;iiul And souii'ht to find an undiscovered land, Where, far to the ea!*t of the Chine!h()uhl adoj'c. Days, weeks and uionthrs passed wearily away. But their hearts were hopeful, joyou?^ and gay^ Though oidy tlicii' ships in th" tiough of llic sea And sweep of heaven were all tlicy could see. One day as the king sat ui)on the (U'ck, Looking at his tlect in disttuicc a s[)eck, A strange bird caiue careening o"cr his h-ad And caught the mast as though its strength was spc;!. The Kiuff shot forth an arrow stiai<»ht and tlci-' And brought down the bird d} iiig at iiis i\>et. In the bird's stoni;:ch there rc})oscd a ling — And ftistened to the body "neath the wing. Lay folded, as if done by woukui's [)owei', A beautiful pearl like a Ginseng flower. On the leaflets hieroglyphics M'cre seen. And ne'er seen before, none knew what tliey ni* n;i. Small hieroglyphics the ring also ])ore, In a laniruaire he'd never met before. OS A ) I : ] GA H ' 5 MA RRIA GE, i \ From this circumstaiK'e he took hope agaiR And si^ed onward over the troubled main. Other days -and others still came and Avent Till Ms soul within began to repent That he'd started upon a trackless sea To solve the mysteries of eternity. But one fair morn the sun in beauty rose. Bringing to the heart the bliss it bestows. And to their joy, their eyes could now explore And see cities resplendent on the shore.* E'er Aniericus Vespucci the famed — He, after whom America was named, Loiig ages before Columbus was bora. Or hmded on these shores sad and forlorn. While yet the Rocky Mountains were a plain. On which were grown vast tields of golden grain. This ancient folk, as antiquities tell, Came to beini?, i:.randl3^ flourished and ((AX. ^^Thc reader must permit a digression, necesaary to establish from his- lorv certain circumstances, corroborative of t!'.e subjects discussed in tl'.e elaboration of our story. The Aztecs were a race of people supposed to h,ave come across tlie ased upon mind. Who were skilled in science and arts relined. This clan th' flower of the Asiatic race, Lonor strove to free from slavery and disufrace. The neighl>()ring tribes, who through brutal force A\'ere crushed down by n)ilitary resource. This [>eople, their souls could brook no restraint — Nor bear the laws their freedom could attaint ; And at length, they in mutual conclave Deteriuined on a plan themselves to save Froui unjust taxation and tyranny 'I'lieir government htid forced in irony. From the eastern cape of Asia, a fleet Was manned and her equipments made complete, Which started east other lands to explore And discover some hospital)le shore, >\'here they could tind a home and peace and rest, M'here all, alike, with freedom should be blest. A fev,' days' sail they found Alaska's shore Where the foot of man never trod before. What is known on maps as the Behring's Straits Was the channel they crossed— led by the Fates — OS A WA GAH'S MA RRIA GE. 1 3 Led to a land where flowed honey and oil, Where Freedom springs eternal from the soil. A few shoi-t years passed rapidly away And this fair clan became a colony, And from a colony they mnltiplied And grew into power and laudable pride : Established manufactures and schools. And youths were taught the usefulness of tools. Their government was based on equal rights — And moneyed aristocracy — that l)lights And shrivels up the conscience and the soul, Was left behind for some meaner clan's goal. Intellect, genius and education AVore the base on which to plant a nation, Virtue, Liberty and eternal Truth Were for aye, to perpetuate its youth. And tiio' the nations were swept ofl' the land. Yet, by Allali's infallilde commajid, Brotherly love should forever prevail, And the springtime of Freedom never fail. The}^ settled first around the Behring Sea But owing to climate, passed a decree. That theyd leave the straits for a future race To esta!)lish m its historic grace,' A tunnel extending from shore to shore Through, which the rail car yet should hiss and roar; And upon which the new world's lusty braves Should ocean cross to their ancestors' graves. From this, migrated to more southern clime Where they found all nature in youthful prime ; Paternal sunshine, warmth and pleasant showers, Nutritious roots, fruits, and delicious ii iwers. Here on the borders of the great occa 1 They made theiv homes mid prayer aivl devotjon. 1 4 OS A IVA GAH' S MA RRIA GE. And grcu" to l)ecome a niiglity nation Satisiicd in peace and situation. At this e])och the little Cbinesc lleet Guided by ilsviiangti's son so discreet, Crossing the unknown Pacitic ocean, AVere greeted witli fraterntd devotion. They were met as they hmded on the l)cach AVilh all the parade that nne arts could teach ; And escorted to the court of th' nation Where the-}' enjoyed a most grand ovation, llwhangti made known the grandeur of his hirlh — That he controlled the grandest realm of earth — A\'hose people were like .the sands of the sea Ijut hound as slaves and knew not liberty. Gradually he unfolded the great scheme That took origin in the wise men's dream, Then showed the ring he so strangel}' possessed And the bright pearl that nestled to the breast Of the strange bird, that his future unfurled, And predicted nearness to the new world. lie w\'is introduced to t :e maidens fiir — Fairer than those his own land cocld com[)are. And they vied with each in most v\insome w:i\s To be attractive to his thought and gaze. One of the wise men had a fa'r daughter, Who from bright eyes was called " Ltiughing Water.'' Of all the maidens of that beautiful land She was most l)eautiful, loving and bhuid. The young Emperor's heart ta'en by surprise Fell deep in love with her beautiful eyes — And hoping Fate had marked her for his own The diamond ring to this fair maid was shown. 3he explained how a falcoii, her o'au pet, OS A WA GAH'S MA RRIA GE. 1 5 Had wandered away to her great regret — And bore a rich pearl attached to its breast Which was her sainted mother's hist l)eliest. The gem bore the initials of her name — And the name of her mother known to fame, As she was the danghter of Lodaguah, And, in childhood, named her Osawagah. Whereupon the }'oung King produced the pearl, Together with the ring, and the fair girl Rejoiced to receive her treasure once more, But wept at the news which the stranger Ijore Of the strange death of her ])eautiful bird, And its strange wanderings which she mutely heard. Said he, " Osawagah, the Fates decree That more than the bird I must bo to tlice. I read in this and in tiie skies above That we were designed each other to love. I offer thee my hand, my wealth and crown And positions of honor and renown, If you will consent to become my wife And from your heart give sunshine to my life. So 'mid th' eclat of the realm they were wed — And once more the little fleet homev/ard sped ; And received congratulations at homo Without ever a desire more to ro:un. Rejoicing in the fame of ancient Mcng And the bUvs^inff of Fatoa over Ginnienji'. MARY MORELAND, OR SUCCESS WRESTED FROM DISAPPOINTMENT. A STORY OF THE REBELLION. |T a period during the progress of the Rebellion ■which was inaugurated in 1861 in the United States, there was received at the Dead Letter Office in the city of Washington, a letter, which hadofoourso failed to reach its intended dfstln. ation, and upon being- opened, which was the custom, it disclosed certain circumstances which had already become a part of history ; and my ft'iend, then Chief Clerk in that office, knowing of the fact of my acquaintance with the parties, it was entrusted to my care. There existing at this time no reason for its further suppression or secrecy, I lierewith transcribe the letter, and tinally proceed to associate with it the subse- quent and singular history of the persons interested : D^ar A/aiy: Ten years ago this May-day, while the bethroot blossomed j.i the wood, while the song of happy birds blended with sweet perfumes was wafted over the earth on balmy breezes, and the morning-glory at your win- dow welcomed with smiles your early rising, happy as the lambs that gamboled over the plains basking in the bl^ss of sunshine and young life, you and I, hand in hajid, in youthful innocensc and mutual trust, sought beauty among MA R Y MO RE LA ND. the flowers, pleasure in soajj, contentment among the lambs and happiness with each other. Oh, would that I was a boy again. When life seemed formed of sunny years, When your voice and smiles dispelled each pain .\nd dried the fountains of my tears. But the happ)- dreams of youtli have passed away as do other dreams, and many sad changes have thwarted my hopes and thrown llieir chilling shadows across my pathway since then. I have grown to manhood, achieved honors as a student, have been flattered and neglected, praised and blamed, sought and avoided. Notv.-ilhstanding these mutations and the change in my aspirations for distinction, wealth and fame, changed in my heart also, I trust, and my soul's longings brcrght into harmony with that great Soul which pervades all space, and is near unto those who call upon Him, yet, my heart is sad — it weeps over empty space — an aching void that pleads to be filled ! In my developing boyhood it was not needful that I confessed my love for you — the acts of my -childhood had disclosed this, and as I grew older and when my trembling heart would have confessed it, your eyes seemed gazing away in the distance, like one watching a distant ship over which brooded some dread fate. Shyly you introduced other subjects of thought, my heart would grow quiet again, and I tried to forget the object nearest to the con- summation of my happiness, which was an expression that you loved me in return. Once, I handed you some stanzas; but in reading them you smiled, and would not look sober, so I hid the sentiment away in my heart v.-hich I thought might introduce the precious subject, and the. manuscript I afterward con- signed to the flames. It ran thus: " Woman ! Thou'rt surely the bright light that cheereth Each hour that we pass in life's dreary waste, And he who without thee his gloomy way beareth Must tire long before his journey is traced. For who, when the toil of the day overtake him. Can lighten the cares that press on his brow, And lean on his breast v,-hen all others forsake him And bid him in sorrow be liappy ? 'Tis th.oii," It will doubtless be news to you to learn that I have just graduated from the R. Theological Seminary; have entered the Union Army, and hold a com- mission as Chaplain with the rank and pay of Captain. I hope to be of ser, vice to those who have left the endearing associations of home and society and gone forth to struggle with the nation's assassins. I would rejoice if you would condescend to send reply to this letter, and say that I might address you with the hope of renewing the pleasant acquaintance of the past, and that perchance some day when my government shall not need my services I MA R V MORE LA ND. 1 9 may return and renew the friendship of former years; a friendship that with me ripened into love that can never be satislied until I know it is reciprocated. Ever Yours, ROBERT J. GRAVES. Poor Robert never received an answer to his affectionate letter. Though oft he gazed toward the rising sun As though his rays were to bring him one. Oft in day dreams did he sadly say: "How soon faded from her life away !" . Sad and weay, his soul long unblest, Me watched the sun as it sank to rest, Saying: "Oh, could I gain a single word That sh.ould speak a joy so long deferred. "1" v.'oulil transform bliss out of fiercest strife And lend a soul to my souUess life. Ah, could we renev/ the ioys of the past, What soul vv'ould not buffet the whirlwind's blast !" About twelve months subsequent to the date of this let- ter, Robeit obtained from his commander a furlough. To c<)nf<\ss the ti-uth he was unhappy in his situation, and whereas P(;pe says : " Hope springs eternal from the human breast Man never is but always to be blest. " Thus our young" chaplain tilled the prediction as relative to the unrest, but in tlie other respect he was despondent and nearly hopeless. However, having gained the privi- lege of al)sence, he determined to start out in some direction, and that he might travel more securely he dressed himself in the costume of a private soldier, and ■with knapsack packed he started for his boyhood home on the Hudson. Arriving at Chicago he took passage on a .steamer up Lake Michigan, around Sault St. Mary, into Lake Huron to Collingwood, thence l)y rail to Toronto, Canada. Arriving in the twib'ght of evening he took a ramble about the city, contrasting the architecture of the 20 iMAR V MOREL A ND. buildings with their high projecting roofs that met his gaze at eveiy turn, with those of his own native laud, signally reminding him that he was in a foreign country. Interesting himself here and there, looking into the brilliantly lighted stores, hotels and saloons, turning hither and yonder for new discoveries, he at length found himself in a narrow alley but diml}' lighted. Meeting a well dressed gentleman he enquired the direction to the Plant- er's Hotel, where he expected to spend the night. The man seeing him arrayed in Uncle Sam's habiliments, said ; " You are a stranger here I doubt not?" Robert replied affirmatively. " Soldier, " said the man, "I have use for a stranger, and you Yankee people seem famous for performing most anything, even to making wooden hams, and leather boots from chatf and sawdust. Do you suppose, now, that you have genius enough to perform a marriage ceremony?" " I reckon I might, for enough sine qua no7i," replied Kobert, in the slang of the border states. For Robert's quick thoughts had already comprehended a deep sc'iemo of evil contemplated, for which this gentleman was acting as a liveried tool, and hoping to learn more, he said : "Yankees, from dwarfs like Tom Thumb Lip to the greatest giants, like Washington, always like to know what they are about and what is expected of them. When we know what is wanted we invent our own machines for its accomplishment. " The Englishman shrugged his shoulders at the name of Washington, doubtless recalling snatches of history. Well, to explain, this is it, my mm, a gay young nol)lc- man stopping in our city has become enamored of a beautiful country girl, has courte * and promised her fal)ulous wealth and exalted social position to marry him. This l)it of innocent fraud is to I)e performed to-night, and I am to procure a private citizen, who would like u MA R V J f ORE LA ND. 2 1 little fun, that has got head enough to perform the cere- mony. " " And make it a farce, a deception?" replied Robert. "Ton maintain the Yankee's reputaticsn for good guessing — but Avhat is your price for this service?" At tirst thought, Robert's soul painfully recoiled at such dastaydly conniving, and he was about to say that none but an escaped convict would be likely to place a price upon such an act, or take [)art in the consummation of such a crime, -when another thought came into his mind — the thought suggesting the possibility of protecting innocence, and averting the crime by reason of his official and minis- terial relations. lie therefore replied, "After due consid- eration, I Avil! perform this labor for twenty ponnds ster- ling." " Very well ; go witli me to the great wardrobe and change your rig in a twiidding, for in Uncle Sam's clothes you make a shabby ministerial apperance. " Robert stepped in, selected him a suit appropi-iate for a particularly fastidious dominie, adjusted his new Avhilc cravat, put on his spotless kids — in the mean time had his soldier's rig placed in a satchel — and when he stepped out npon the pavement he received distinguished adidation from his new and very kin.d accpiaintar.ce -who paid for the transmutation. " I doul)t if the whole Presbytery could make a ca[)ital minister out of very conmion material as quielcly as I have done, " said the trickster, complimenting his own genius. " All right," said Rol)ert, " noVv place in my hand the twent}' pounds and I am olKnlient to your sei'vice." The money was transferred to the new pockets, and tlie journey was commenced. After a few minutes walk, they entered a hack and were driven on until arriving in tlic centre of the city. Thc}^ were halted at a commanding edifice l)eautifullv illuminated. Enterinij:, Robert f )Ilowcd 2 2 MA R V MORE LA ND. the trickster through halls and passageways, up staii-s and down, and finally into a small but splendidly furnished room. There sat the " nobleman " on a rich sofa, a man a])out thirty years of age, possibly not over twenty-five, of pleas- ing countenance and genteel address. Had he been familiar with the names of some indigenous plants, and could have conversationally utilized the names, telling of eiqiatoreum, belladonna and rltuH laxicod,endron, he would have successfully passed as a quack doctor, and Avith the advantages of w ealtli and genteel suavit\', though even this may have been the extent of his abilit}^ yet, doubtless, fame would have been emblazoned upon his es- cutcheon. At a little distance from him and on one side of the room sat two ladies, one richlj' clad, a bridal veil hanging in rich folds over her face, of which only a vague outHno could be distinguished. The other was introduced to liobert as a sister of the trickster, Miss Rodney, who like her brother, so called, was like their liege lord, at this time also actimg the part of " nc)l)leman." hi the pasty complexion, tawdry dress, lascivious e^'es and general d(>portment, Robert saw in the " sister," none other than a genteel sal()f)n dancer. Robert being introduced as Rev. Dr. Graves, he mo- tioned the twain to stand upon their feet. The " nobleman," stepping forward, grasped the hand of the trembling girl as though he had been accustomed to such advenlures, and drawings her toward him placed her arm in his. As Rol)ert arose to begin the ceremony, a stra}' zephyr stealing in through the latticed window blew the bridal veii, exposing the most beautiful and angelic countenance that he ever beheld ; and oh, it seemed so natural — Like one transii.xcd and paralyzed Robert stood aghast, JlfA R V MO RE LA ND. 23 -1 ».i *- and tuL-niiig deadly pale, he staggered toward the saying "No, no, I can ncvei- — " but before he could i!niili the sentence he faulted. ^ Me was soon resuscitated, however, ])y placing hiui in ;i horizontal })osition and administering a dose of brandy. When he was suiiiciently recovered to conipreliend the conversation, he was assured that somebody was to per- form the service that night, and whispering in his ear, tiie "nobleman" notified him, "if he did not want to read his own obituary he had better jiroceed." After a moment's re- llection llobert summoned his strength, once more arose, and proceeded slowly and solemnly to perform tlio cere- mony at length, pronouncing them husljand and wiie, say- ing lastly, "what God in his incomprehensible providences hath determined to be, let no man strive to controvert." Sitting down at the centre table, he wrote out the mar- riage certiticate, and handing it to the young bride, he 'pinched her finger as he did so, warning her to cautious- ness. Instinctively she immediately placed it in her bosom, after having seen that it was drawn in a proper manner. Being notified that praj'cr as usuall}' offered on such oc- casions would in this instance be dispensed with, owing to limited time to reach the train that was to convey them to Europe, upon their wedding journey, liobcrt was prcs- cntl}^ shown down and out of the apartment, and into a carriage waiting to convey him to his hotel. Once seated in the vehicle he burst into tears, wildl\' muttering to himself, "There, my only childhood pla\- mate, my own little Mary ^Nlorcland, the only being I ever loved, she to whom I wrote that long foolish letter, the most beautiful being on earth, I have p?rf)rm3d t!ie cerj- moiiy that has wedded her to another man, and he a vile wretch so unworthy ! Oh God, how strange thy provi- dences I" Robert returned to his hotel in a state of mind better 24 MARY MO RE LAND. imagined thiui expressed. Part of the time he IViamed hiinseU" for aiding in tl.o nefarious scheme, a.idjet he foresaw that whatever course of opposition lie miglit .have introduced, intended to tliwart their objects, by an ovcrwhehning majority of op- position tliey would have still succeeded in deceiving the innocent girl, and at last, accomplished their purposes in a way perhaps much more to her detriment than a legiti- mate marriage. "And yet, selfishly enough," he argued, "what interest have I in this whole matter, after all ? And what business is it to me, since she passed by my letter unnoticed — in which I had couched the acknowledgement of my affections for her. Truly "they that sow to the wind reap of the whii'lwind." The people to-day thai arc led astray By position and the glitter of gold! Deep sobs that arc huslied and affections crushed, And the misery and antjuish untold 1 Wc must now reproduce an item of history. In the St. Louis, Missouri, Itejnihlican, in one of its weekly issues in Juiy or August, 18G3, will be found an article containing the following facts : " The Paj'master of the U. S. A., in I)cing escorted by a detachment of C(d. ]\Ic. F's command, from Sedalia, JNIo., to some tov/n in the interior counties, was attacked by a gang of rel)els under (^uantral, resulting in killing several of our men, and numerous horses, nndes, and other valuables stolen. The mules that trans[)orted the paymaster's trunks were un- hitched from the wagon and driven off, leaving the money behind, it having been over looked." The article contin- ues : " Among the prisoners taken was an army ch:ii)laia "who, in comp&ny wi'Ji the command, was proceeding on li.is way in obedience to orders to proceed to Lexington, Mo." 3fA R V MORE LA ND. 2 5 Footsore and weary, and prohibited from riding, he was forced to walk before the horses, one being ridden on either side. Atlen"-th, his strength o-ivino' out, he be^'an perceptably to hig, whereupon one of the iiends by his side shouted out to him: "Hurry np tliere, parson, or you'll find the devil you preach about closer than you ever thought of. " " I must soon faint unless you permit me to ride," was the reply. " Stand one side till I shoot him,'' said Quantral to his left hand man. The poor, exhausted man threw lip his hands, imploring mercy, but that instant there was a sharp report from the demon's rifle, and the chaplain fell to the earth, the horses trampling upon his body as pell-mell they hurried onward. Fortunately, the bullet had missed its mark ; and when out of sight the weary, wounded pilgrim extricated himself from the mud, and followed the trail back till he joined his strao-gling comrades. The Author was familiar with tliis circumstance, reported the facts substantially to the press, and can certify that this was Robert J. Graves, v/ho was on his way to join his regiment. The war went on, and the time sped on, but at length peace was promulgated throughout the land, and upon re- ceiving honorable discharge from his country's service, the disconsolate chaplain, his soul refusing to 1)e comforted only in experiencing the severest trials for his Master, he made application and ol^tained an appointment to a mis- sionary field in China. Arriving at Hong Kong and presenting his credentials, he was appointed to an important station in the interior, to which be immediately repaired. On arrival at his station he found many things which were inviting, and which aftbrded him encouragement. A town of several thousand inhal)itants, several good schools 26 MA R Y MORE LA ND. in proijress, and a lai-o-e coni^res-atioii who ii'avc him cor- dull welcome. Peace once more, rest again, and with lal)or sought for, to interest liis thoughts and soul, bespoke for him now a future with exemption from vicissitudes, but the unknown and multiplex changes incident to our lives keep up continual warfare with monotony and steadfastness, and thus it transpired, that ore he had been there a week, he was summoned to the bedside of one of the teachers who Avas supposed to be dying. Upon being ushered into the presence of the sick lady, in the beautiful futures before him, the chiseled eyebrows, lofty forehead and smiling lips, he instantly recognized the one and only being who forever haunted his soul, the once loved and beautiful Mary Moreland. The brilliancy of her eyes, which is the index of health, of vital power and intel- lect, was now rapidly fading by the progress of disease, her hands were tremulous, and in a low, muttering delir- ium — She told of the river and its sunlit shore Where in joy she'd wandered in days of yore — On that fair bright river laden with ships While the name of Robert died on her lips. Then her mind wandered to realms in the sky- Pleading — Savior, when at last I shall die, When my soul shall take wings upward to soar May I meet Robert of childhood once more! Robert summoned a physician as soon as possibk', who upon careful examination pronounced the case an attack of pneumonia of great severity. Wonder and astonishment were depicted in the ch;iplain's countenance, and days and sleepless nights he watched over the stricken being who had once been all the world (o him. Oft he was reminded in her ravings of the scenes of their biissfuU childhood. The purling stream beyond the hill, where together they caught the speckled trout, tiie four stumps in the pasture around which they placed fox AfA R V MO RE LA ND. 2 7 and geese, and of the cool spring water that in a tiny cup which he gave her, from which they alternately slaked their thirst. The physician was skillfull, and applied with discretion the remedies which the experience of ages in the hands of educated and wise men had been demonstrated to be of value in such cases, and with the watchful care of her sis- ter teachers, by whom she was greatly beloved, health in due time returned, and with it came back the dimpled cheek, the rosy lips, the brilliant eyes, the beautiful com- plexion, the joyous smile and all her pleasing ways. One afternoon, as the pastor sat with her in the parlor, she was rehearsing the kindness that had been bestowed upon her during her illness, and said; "I learn, my dear pastor, that I am quite as much indebted to your care and interest for my restoration, as to any one, the phy- sician himself not excepted, for which you will please ac- cept my deepest gratitude." " I feel that I have done no more than my duty under the circnmsiances,'" responded Robert. What expectations, what blighted hopes, what dreams, what disap[)ointments, what misery or happiness may l)e expressed or enshrouded in that long word, circumstan- ces. It is circumstances that have made beings famous, and by which their disgrace has bfcn made apparent ; borne them on the wings of prosperity, or sunk them in the slough of adversity. Circumstances, under varying conditions, afford hope and peace, also their antithesis, misery and want ; so in this case, Robert Graves meant more than was expressed in the simple expression, "under the circumstances." Miss Moreland replied: "I do not know how it is, but in the present, and in previous conversations with you, I have often been reminded of an actjuaintancc of my early o-irlhood. Your sentiments are so much like him — a pure, 28 MARY MORELAND. noble, boy ; I often think of him, nnd though in later years I have lost all knowledge of him, yet I Avculd give a great deal to see him, and doubtless, if I should meet him I "would not know him now, but, strangely enough, I otten look out in expectancy for him as though I expected to see him unchanged. Yet, I know long ere this he is crown to be a no])lc man, if so be he is living, and possibly, like myself, sadly changed by circumstances and rebulfs." " Did you ever meet him, my kind })astor? His name was Robert J, Graves." " Yes, Mary Moreland, I myself have the distinguished misery to be he, disconsolate and unhappy." HER IIISTORV. You remember my father was a ship builder. About the last tidings I ever had from you, about the time you entered the high school at S , he had bai-gained to build ships for a company in Canada, and moved to To- ronto. I was jiermited every oportunity to acquire an education, and with all became proficient in music. It was also said I possessed a beautiful voice for singing, which I also cultivated under the instruction of t':e best masters. Entering society among the elite in canada, and being flattered and. courted b}' rich noblemen and their sons and daughters, my mother, a high spirited woman, had contemplated what Avas to her great hopes for my future. This was nothing jess than to l)ecome the wife of a nobleman, in the English signification of that term. Among those who sought my company and favor was a nobleman's son, who, after a short acquaintance, offered me his hand and fortunes, all in good faith as I supposed from his protestations. Keluctantly I at length accepted him. I say reluctantly, for my heart could never be his. In secret it had already been given away, and, as I be- lieved, had l)een responded to in my girlhood, as 1 had already read in the expression of your ej'es, and never MARY MOREL AND. 29 and never could I elian<>'e. Yet I never heard from you after we moved ; indeed, I did not know but you had quite forgotten me now — or at least, rememl)ered me only as an acquaitance or a friend. I confessed all these facts sub- stantialh^ to this young man, but he declared his life de- voted to my happiness, should win my schoolgirl love back to him. Finalh', convinced against my uill I at last consented, and the day was set for our nu[)lials ; But he exacted a pledge from me that I was not to mention it at present, not even to my nearest aud dearest friends. In a fewda3's he came to me, and said that the opposition of his jjarents would preclude the possiljility of making our Avcdding public, tor a while, but tliat, when united and our destinies irrevokably fixed, his father would overlook what would seem to be an unav(jidal)le fault, and forgive him. I de- murred at this, told him I sliould consult my parents, that in mv iudo^ement a «irl should never risk an action where exi)erience is required, without consulting her mother. But he persisted, and persuaded, and promised it should forever l)c all right — said he could not live without me, that his happiness in fact depended upon my acquiescence in his plans. I tiually permitted mj'self to be led astray. I consented and accompanied him to his residence, Avhere, as I supposed, at the hour of eleven at nii>ht I was married to him. The O clergyman, tis 1 took him to be, gave me a certiticatc of marriage — here it is, (drawing it from her bosom,) saying, I've carried it ever since. No sooner than the cleriryinan, with the attendant, had left the room, two masked men entered from the rear of the building, and with drawn revolvers confronted us, saying : "Lisp a sound and you shall die I"" One of the men, step- ping toward my husband said : "Ignoble wretch, remem- berest thou poor Helen who by your liendiDh acts sank into 30 MA R Y MO RE LA XD. a premature grave, broken hearted? I give yon one min- ute to eonless your crime on this fair girl, or your 80ul shall awake in pandemonium, where it rightfully belongs." The cringing wretch, my husband, stood up before me, and confessed our marriage had been only a farce — that he had intentionally deceived me, and that he had been conniving to accomplish my ruin. lie would have said more but I sprang to leave the room, the other man how- ever, interposed and said, "Xo, wait a minute, and you shall go in safety." As I turned, the foremost man was standing over the cringing parasite, my husljand, and applying a box and a little strap to his forehead, I heard a sudden click, and when he removed it there was l)randed with an indelible iidv acres? his forehead, the unmistakable letters: "SCOUNDREL.' "There," said the man, "go thou, with the curse of inno- cence, with this label, that you may henceforth be under- stood and known, suffering the well merited fate of every person, whose poisonous l)reath defames the character of \irtue and true uorth."" This done, the man stood aside and 1 tied, reaching my home at a (juarter to twelve. I never divulged the secret to my mother, for I knew what \y\\\\ it would give her, and how depressing it would be to her proud spirit. I im- mediately made ai)[)lication to pro[)er authorities, who fur- nished me transportation to this heathen land, as an in- structress ; here 1 am, tiie bride of a minute, tlie cajoled ot an im[)ostor, with a lieart lonely and em[)ty save the niche which I trust Christ occupies. Robert scanned the certiticate of marriage. "Yes Mary" said he, "you are to-day the lawful wife of that despicable man ; that certiticate bears my own signature, it was I who married you. I robbed myself of you to save you." "God protect us," exclaimed the trembling woman. MA R V MO RE LA ND. 3 1 "what other dreadful thing can foUow in this train. I'll go to London ininiediately and telegranli to know it' tint miscreant still snrvives.'' The first ship that sailed, her name appeared npon the register. Arriving in London, she sent a cablegram, and was informed that the man she sought, Lord Virmifiige, was dead, and at that moment, lying in state at his own residence, having died suddenly of sun stroke. She immediately dispatched a letter to Robert Graves, to hasten to Toronto as witness to the leg ilit}^ and verity ( f her marriage. That same day, a steamer was to start for America, and upon it she took passage. Arriving tinally in safety in Toronto, she remained with her parents in great seclusion until Robert arrived, whereupon she presented to the authorities her certificate and also the testimony of the clergyman Avho performed the ceremony. The evidence was conclusive and salisfjictory, and shorth' after the Cana- dian papers announced thatl>y the death of Lord Virmifuge his beautiful young wife, who had been traveling m China, had become heir to a million live hundred thousand dollars, besides many farms in the vicinity of Toronto. The next issue of the papers contained the record of the marriage of Lord Vinnifuge's Avidow to Rev. Robert J. Graves of Hong Kong, China. LOU POME ROY, OR HOW NEAR A BEAUTIFUL AND INNOCENT GIRL CAME OF BEING HANGED ON CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE, AND WHAT CAME OF IT. A I'OEM OF MODERN TIMES. (W W^'^ ^youthful friend wns thoughtless as the sparrow pXy>K ' That culls to-day nor thinks of the to-morrow. <^^'l,X^ As wild as the gazelle on its native plain, ^ K^ji- ^ Nor dreamed ot sorrow or ns withering pain. Her soul was free from guile as the timid fawn, And beautiful as pure. Beauty's magic spell Was ne'er unlocked to adorn one half so well. A celestial blue dazzled in her bright eyes, And her features, like one had drop'd from the skies Her voice as silveiy as the harp's sweetest strain When thrummed to unite in a true love's refrain. I had loved her long — when children together Soul met soul and we were "birds of a feather." But as the ^-ears rolled by, I thought 1 could see That Lou's whole heart was not centered upon me. Fair fortune had crossed the threshold of her door, But deserting me had left me very poor — Or, riithcv , found me poor, and ne'er sought the joy 34 LOU POMEROV. To elevate to wealth a poor orphan boy. I had for Ion o^ been Lou's father's "riMithand man" — It "took me to execute and him to plan." /desired to plan, and sought many a way That I might become his son-in-law some day. To Lou, on the sly, I lived true devotion — And longed for the day of hoped for promotion. One day as we sat in the parlor alone, Had been talking about the strange telephone. I said, if she was absent, far, far awa}', And was listening, [ had something I would say. Well, she replied, let us play "l)eyond the sea ;" Then, like in childhood, you can be more free. Then I told her how I loved her, How precious she had been to me How my life was centered in her Since hap[)y hours of childhood glee. How I'd hoped she might love me. With the devotion of her heart ; If so, how blessed my life would be To bask in bliss her smiles impart. That happiness was not for me AVhcn separated from her side — And that, I'd hoped, 'twas God's decree To give her to me as my bride. "Ah, sir, there are mountains between thee and me, Aii impassible gulf — spanned by the sea. My father is proud of his long honored name. And desires me to wed for riches and fame. A young man has ottered, a stranger to thee, And my father awaits an answer from me. True, in }onth we were happy and united, And it seems sad tl at our hopes should be blighted. LOU POME ROY. 35 But pa tells nic, 'there is policy in war — ' But who sees policy in what they abhor? Yet. perchance, it is better that I obej-, Gain a father's blessing and go not astray." "But, Ah, dear Lou, now tell me true, Did you not love me when a child? When I and you roamed the woods through And 1)V strange tales vour fears beguiled? O, confess that 30U loved me then ! 'Twill lend joy to my future thought — 'Tsvill cheer me through many a fen To know my dreams were not for naught." "Yes, Charles, I then loved }'()u with a childish love — We chose the same stars in the heavens above — AVe thought alike, dreamed alike, and hoped the same, And ne'er gave a thought to future wealth or fame. Like the busy l)ee who springs from flower to flower So we sipped pleasures in every passing hour. Day by day, hand in hand, w^e walked side l)y side. Nor e'er know of distinctions of wealth and pride." " But, dear Lou, love comes down from God — Heaven above its native sphere — It rules with an uiis\ver\iiig rod, Eternity is but its year. If you loved me as I have thee Your soul can ne'er bo drawn away — Sever the chain nor set you free From Love's eternal changeless sway. O, Lou, seek down deep in your heart. And see if there's will to sever, And say to me, for aye depart, To see me no more forever !'' 36 LOU POME ROY. "O, Chiirlcs, I can not, will not, lot thcc go I As the waves on the ocean .shnll ehl) and How And the stars slir.ll shine in the deep azure blue, So will I be devoted to thee — and true." Then I caught the maid to my heart — I pressed her treniblinii' li[)s to mine — O God I that we could never pait ! 'Twould 1)0 heaven and bliss divine I Well, the weeks and months wore rapidly away — Ah, how evanescent is youth's golden da^- ; In rapid succession the year follows }ear, Whither our lives arc sad or lilled with good cheer. Thus the bright si)ring days of my youth came and went, And few of them all in Lou's presence were spent: But there was a beautiful forest hard by, Where the birds l)uilt their nests on the boughs so high. And sang through the summer days so joyfully. They oft caught a vision of sweet Lou and nie. But there was a sad day coining by and by, When my heart should be weary, longing to die. The young stranger of whom sweet Lou s[)oke to me, Was pressing his suit each day more ferventl}'. And Lou's anxious father did oft' heave the sigh, In awaiting so long his daughter's rc[)ly. One day I had wandered awa}- to the wood Where I had oft' met Lou, so pure and so good. And I saw a man as I gazed through the leaves, Now plucks the wild tlowers, and now blcndingly weaves. lie stood on the spot where I had often stood — And seemed longing for what had l^een my soul's food. By some chance, he'd seen Lou cross over the Held, And, longing to know what the chances might yield. LOU POME ROY. 37 He'd declared by the Iienvens and stars a])ovc, That here should be the place he'd confess his love. Think of poor Lou's sad plight and consternation^ On reaching the wood in deep pnrturbation, Instead of her Charley, another was there, Wild hoping her love and aftections to share. I heard him tell her of all his love — How he had prayed to God above — How he had offered his wealth and life If she would only become his wife. How he thought her l)eautiful and fair, That, with his iiowers, she did well compare : How he loved to gaze in her blue eyes And behold fair heaven in disguise. How through the day and nightly dreams She through his dazed restless fancy teems. That, if her soul she could not give He had lost desire henceforth to live. "Young man," she said, " you can be no more to me Than the fiu'thest stranger whom I never see. My heart and soul is plighted to another More precious then friend or father or brother. I pray you desist this fatal, futile strife. For it is fixed I shall never bo your wife." At this juncture she was about to depart But he caught her — would have pressed her to his heai't, And there ensued a struggle — my Lou was brave, Grasped a missile and threatened him with a stave, Told him she would have him arrested for crinio And for living a fool on death's purloined time. 38 LOU POMEROY. Then, hopeless, like u nuulniiin in dispair, He raised aloft his arm — tlung hack his hair, Placed a revolver to his wand'riug brain, Shot, and fell back, and never spoke again. Poor Lou, quick retraced her steps in wild alarm When he raised his weapon with flourishing arm — Nor dared to look behind, for in the tierce strife, Siie thought hi>' intention was to take her life ; Tiiat, really, the pistol at herself \vas lired, When thwarted in the hopes his dreams had conspired, For myself, mid doubts and fears I shied away, And hid in the ibrcst till the close of day. When night arrived I crept softly from my lair, And half in hope and half in wild dis[)aii-, I placed as many miles 'tween that place and mo As stalwart will and and struggling limbs ould decree. When I emerged from the wood, a man I see. But I wandered from him and he fled from me. At last, I arrived at shore of the ocean, There, paid my darling my last sad devotion. Kefered to nothing in the past, but our love, And commending her to care of God above On a whaling vessel 1 shipped the same day. The canvas was unfurled and we sped away. Neighbors heard the report of the pistol shot And saw Lou flying wildly across the lot. Then in great numbers they visited the wood. And saw the leaves all disheveled where they stood. Found the revolver a fev/ feet tVom his side. And the barrel stave which L^u had stern applied. The dead man's parents were notitied in haste. And opinions were expressed to each one's taste. LOU POMEROY. 39 Many wild ravinos mid muny suspicions Were thought ^ukI expressed, tind the kno^vn positions That obtained between the tsvain— his devotion— And her apparent hick of love's emotion ; The great interest her fatlicr took in his suit, These were the evidences brought by the astute, And urged with vehemence wo: thy of the pit Where wild winged devils are said to howl and flit. One who to vast\lep'hs of wisdom did aspire, Claimed "that where is so much smoke must be some Just then, by direct, but some mysterious power, The sky was o'ercast by a miniature shower, And a thunderbolt from Jehovah came down, An.l smote that wise, great man with a deadly irown. Lou explained all, as well as her poor heart could, But to no parp:^sc— she was not understood : And despite her claim, and most piteous wail. Arrested for murder, was dragged to the jail. On board a whaling ship is little joy. As the human soul can reasonably employ. Each sailor is expacted to know his place, And if he dont know he'll hear with fiendish grace. The arrangement, on board, was, "each for himself: And all to shair equal, in the general pelf," Then each gives his share for the captain and boat, For a certahi sum, as long as they should float. We had not been many days from the homo shore When we discovered a dozen whales or more. Then commenced the fray— and all the live long day We flung the spears, and pursued them on their way. Days, weeks and months passed wearily away, 40 LOU POME ROY. Sometimes, depressed, at other times, all gay. But much like ordinary life on the shore, More downs than ups by full many a sad score. But the Lcrd was kind, I'm free to confess- - And the Avhales often came on treasures to bless. A congenial chum on the ship I had found. And \vc each in the bonds of friendship were bound. One day, he gave me a history of his life — (A sailor's land life is "with incidents rife.) And among other things he said : "on the shore. Once he was wandering a fair country o'er, And made it a practice to bunk out at night. Providing with his gun, for his appetite, lie was hunting through a wood one afternoon. And beheld a sight would make a brave man swoon, lie saw a man stand by a beautiful girl. Whose complexion was fair as mother of pearl ; lie tried to persuade her, to give him her heart — That this bliss alone could only soothe his smart. The lady then told him, it never could be — Her heart w!is another's by lleaven's decree ; And as she turned away and sped from his side, lie wildly sent a ball through his brain, and died. I stayed until night in the w'ood's deepest gloom, .Vnd then started forth, if in the world was room For a man, who 'gainst mankind had no ill will, But would rejoice, if all, of joy, had their fill." Come to compare notes, the time and the place, I discovered 'twas Ids outline, I traced On that memorable night, when face to face My life and destiny seemed empty space. His eyes had once beheld my loving Lou I Saw her daring bravery and rapid flight. LOU POMEROY. 4i While there was no being who would pursue To punish or to menace her to fright. "My friend," said I, "I have dreamed a sad dream. I dreamed I saw Lou in a prison cell — I beheld fierce demons around her teem, And gibbering devils fresh liedged from h I've many times wondered if it could be That the poor sweet child could be held for his life ; My nights arc sad — there is no joy for me — My waking moments full of doubts and strife. iNIy friend, something tells me 'take the first ship — Both of you go and set out fbr the shore,' For 'there's many a slip 'tween cup and lip,' And fortune skips Avhen there's an open door.' " That self same day a ship hove in our view, We signalled her as if in some distress ; And once on board, the favorite winds blew, Aud sped us toward lands we longed to caress. Poor innocent Lou, bereft of every friend — No being on earth a friendly hand to lend. Thy father, alone, believes thee free and true. But he, burns with the words "good enough for you ! You might had a husband with millions of gold, But instead, 'your birthright for pottage' you sold ! And at least, indirectl}^ 3^ou caused his death — By refusal, and desertion, in a breath." Month after month listened to Lou's hopeless wail, Incarcerated within a damp, cold jail. The people outside with relentless accord Pronounced her miseries merited, though hard. The news papers took up the deadly refrain, Whether for hoped for fame or fin- golden gain, They claimed if this wild creature was let go free 42 LOU POMEROY. To wreak her vengeuce on every man she sec, Who to her designs a barrier interposed, Then, we might yield np all law and be disposed To let every mnrderer go on "SCOTT FREE," And have no laws to protect our liberty. Men jeered her as she gazed through the iron bars — The heavens above seemed brass, and the cold stars Gazed down in silence upon her anguish deep. While the lone blithe cricket chirped her to sleep. Oft in her wild moans did she tearfully say, O Charley, why did you desert me that day ? Would God that there did one human heart remain Who could sympathize in my misery and pain ! O my mother ! if thou hadst been left to me. There had been one friend left on life's desert sea. Thou Savior of the innocent ! take thy child ; Take me from this sad world with sin so dchled." But at last, the day came, she was to be tried — By a "jury select" and the "county's pride." That is, they were proud to "own some real estate,' But scarcely a thought dwelt in their empty pate. Uneducated as the wild braying ass, Who roams the seared heath and clips the shriveled grass. Men, wise in their own conceit, such as the fool Who thought 'twas God's service to desert his school. "Men who had expressed nor formed an opinion," Brainless, and thoughtless, the devils own minion ! This, the class of men, pure innocence to try — And decide a Christian being's destiny ! Such as constitute many a court to-day, AVhcre happiness and life are frittered away • LOU POMEROY. 43 So, the crier announced the judges report, And poor trembling Lou was brought forth into court. PART OY THE INDICTMENT. And whereas, on the day and date aforesaid, the said Lou Pomeroy, with malice aforethought, instigated by the devil, that evil one, and without fear of God before her eyes, did maliciously, feloniously and criminally, in order to o-ratify her unholy ambition, and to maintain criminal associations with a certain man whom her father dispised, conceived, concocted and schemed, set on foot, developed and accomplished the dastardly act of shooting with a dead- ly weapon, a pistol, loaded with powder, caps and leaden bullets, held in her own hand, and discharged by wilfully pulliu'i- the trigger of the same, without extraneous inttii- encc, and of her own free will, first having pointed the said pistol, with intent to kill, at the head of one David Whiliietree. The bullet entering the right temple of the said Whiliietree just above the ear, and by reason of which the said David Whiliietree succomed, expired and died. To all of which she was asked to reply if she was guilty. Poor, modest Lou, overwhelmed ^with this tirade of al)use and meaningless gabble, Avhilc her beautiful eyes were suffused with tears, in a very demure manner re- plied : "N'o." Lou had a tedious trial — day after day She came in court and heard what men could say. One man testitied "that she conceived the plan Of going to the woods to meet the young man. With the full intent, to take his precious life, Because her father wanted her to be his Avife ! On cross examination, the man confessed. That he had communion with souls of the blessed. That departed spirits from the great unknown 44 LOU POME ROY. Had divulged this case and all its secrets shown. And he was the vessel the spirits had chose In which all its intricacies should repose. Some said he was a crank, but others beleived That 'twas scarcely probable he was deceived." A dozen swore they saw her flee from the wood And saw in the wood where they together stood. They saw the old stave with splinters on the side, Which doubtless he used his safety to provide, Against the missile aimed at his sacred head By the shrewd female criminal " aforesaid." Some testified, that the leaves, Vvdiich were reviewed, Disclosed that a fierce scufiie had ensued. And the final result, all made verj' plain. In the death of a man who had loved in vain. The distance the pistol was laid from the man — A map was shown, which Mas a surveyor's plan : "This of itself, was almost evidence complete, That, after he fell, she flung it at his feet." A tithe of the evidence we cannot adduce : Of the false allegations and low abuse. And though ably defended, 'twas plain to see That prejudice and feeling in great degree Stood vastly against her — and the jury too, Would ([uitc often grin as they looked up at Lou, As much as to sa}' : "ah, my young lady fair, Justice will at last come forth for her true share ; And while you weep and mop y(,)ur eyes with your hair They shall laugh at your calamity and despair !" There was one thing transpired which was thought to be Exceedingl}' pertinent testimony. Where fragments of papers W(!re all gathered up And united once more from the old glue cup, LOU POMEROY. 45 As was thought, led to the deep seherae's exposure, And when read, made the foUowing disclosure : "Whatever is done in this Q 1'^^^*^' "^^^^^ ^^° ^'^ S^"^'^^ secrecy, and without demonstration or observa- tion, as its discovery woukl doubtless be fatal to hopes and expectations. C. Y. D." This was alleged to be a premeditated scheme for the assassination; the characteristic ring or round O, indicat- ing the bullet, and the whole article, indicated that Mr. C.'' V. D. who left about the time of the murder, might have been her accomplice. In Lou'^r testimony, she stated that the round (), or ring, represented the eternal friendship and tidelity they had pledged each other, and that anything demonstrative in the way of manifesting this attachment, would be object- ed to by her father, and Charley would consequently lose his place. At this explanation, the whole court-room rang with laughter and jeers. THE JUDGE'S CHARGE TO THE JURY. "Gentlemeu of the Jury, you have carefully and atten- tively listened to the evidence adduced in this trial. You have heard all the evidence of the prosecution as also that of the defense. It appears in evidence that the defendant was, on a certain day, in a certain piece of forest, and that at that time there was heard the rcpjrt of a pistol. Immediately thereafter, the defendant was s^en to emerge from the forest and run across the held. The forest was immediately searched, and a youug man found there dead by reason of a bullet shot through his brain. The scat- tered and upturned leaves, and the stave, disclosed the fact that there had been a scuffle. You will have to take into consideration, the fact of these two individuals being in the forest at the same time, 46 LOU POMEROY. the DbJGcts, incentives &e. You must also decide if this scuttle w;is between the detendant and the man now dead. You will try to exphiin to your satisfaction, the mean- ing of the restored note of the young man to the defendant. It appears that there Avas a pistol used by some par- ty, which pistol after having })een discharged Avith fatal results, was placed near the feet of the dead man. You are to decide whether this pistol was held and discharged by the defendant, and if you iind this to be the fact in the case; the next question Avill be, if this action was done in self defence or through a malicious intent. On the other hand, you arc to decide whether the man in question was shot by defendant, by some other person unknown, or whether he shot himself. lu the defense we have onl}' one evidence outside of the' testimony of the prisoner herself, and that is, the location, of the wound. It has been ably argued that if a struggle had taken place between the parties, and she had draAvn a revolver, it would be natural for the person engaged in the melee to have been retreating, or standing facing the person Avith whom he Avas struggling, in which case, he Avould have received the shot from in front or rear of the body, instead of the side of the head. All of Avhich arc respect- fully submitcd for your careful deril)cration." When that jury arose, every mui but one, Was ripe for conviction, as Avhen they begun. One man stood out, and said : "he could not see. How that timid girl, known from childhood, to be Free from cA'erj' guile, and never owned fir e-anns, And onlv dan<2:erous in womanlv charms. Could have secured a pistol, and learned its use. Conceived and planned, and the young stranger induced To meet her in the forest, Avhere a tierce strife Ensued, because she could never be his wife: LOU POME ROY. ' 47 And the liual turning of his head to one side, For her shot, a convenient spot to provide : And that bullet ranging i//5?rar(/ through the brain. Instead of downward, or on a level plain. These were questions which he could not as }'et solve And was therefore, not ready to make resolve." At this juncture the telephone bell rang out, And answering the summons, was heard the shout: "All evidence closed in the Pomcroy trial?'' "Yes. the jury are closeted in their room at this time," was the reply. "You are directed to reopen court and recall the jury for further evidence." "Very well, but by whose order?" demanded the judge. "By the Governor of the State, your honor." "Aye, Ayo. ;" responded the judge, through the tele- phone. Again the telephone bell rang, and the question came: "Jury all present?" "Yes," wf.s the reply. "Very well; there are two gentlemen of known probity now in the Executive Chamber, who assert they have personal knowledge of the circumstances attending the death of David Whittietree. They will now testify through the telephone, which you will report word for word to Ihe Charles A^an Dyke, called : Age twenty-two ; was living in the Pomeroy i'amily at the time of the death of David Whitftetree ; was in the woods on the day and at the time when David WhitHetree died; saw WhitHctrcc oticr to embrace Lou Pomeroy, she repelled him, and upon refusal, he drew a revolver, and placing it to his temple, tired, and fell dead in his tracks. Simon Copperfield, called: Age thirtj-three : was at one time Chief of Police in Amsterdam ; got into bad 48 LOU POMEROY. habits, and wandered away. In my wanderings I was in the forest at , on the day and at the time mentioned by Van Dyke; I was there a hunting; I saw the sculHe between David Whitiictree and Lou Pomeroy ; I saw Whiffletree raise his arm, holding aloft a pistol — at that instant the woman turned about and ran from the woods, and Whiffletree immediately brought the revolver to his temple, fired it off, and fell dead. The result of this timely evidence can be imagined bet- ter than expressed. But there arose the Avildest shouts for joy, that ever before or since rang through that court- house. Men shouted and danced, women cried and clapped their hands for joy, and the Judge and jury found ample pursuit in wiping their tearful eyes. Lou Pomeroy was of course pronounced not guilty, and a few weeks after, she was wedded to Charles VanDj'ke, the successful whaler, who b>- acting from the promptings of a dreau) upon his conscience, rescued from the gallows tlie innocent and lovely woman, who finally became his true and loving wife. MORAL. 1st. Extend Civil Service Reform to embrace a Com- mission, Avho, at proper times, shall examine into the ([ualitications of certain individuals, nominated by Town Supervisors, which persons, after passing examination, shall be deemed eligiljle to act, and be competent as jury- men. Phice the standard hi<>h. Maintain the right of choice. 2nd. Attaint no person's liberty, nor abridge his claims to sympathy', or his right to life or the pursuit of hai)piness, or his claim to respectful consideration, by reason of pre- judice. Let every man be deemed innocent tdl condemned by satisfictory testimony by a tribunal competent to judge. HUSBANDRY, OR FISH CAUGHT ON THE HILLS. IIP] glowing hills, the river and ravine, '^ That basks in the sun and moon's silver sheen, And broad green fields, and luxuriant soil. Woos mankind to agriculture and toil. Wealth that the depths of ocean out-measures, With all its bright gems and hidden treasures ; That pales'the Pacific's golden mountains, And the dust in California's fountains, Are the waving fields of wheat, corn, and rye, That, over the land, greets the entranced eye. They afford increase for each hour of toil. And grant independence and golden spoil. They clip the fleece that keeps the nations warm, And aftbrd protection, in clouds and storm. Tj-avelers tell us of the Golconda gold — Of bright, precious ores on the mountains bold, Others tell tales of the dust of Black-hills — And praise the gems that sparkle in her rills. To the hungry, 'tis commonplace matter, 50 HUSBANDRY. Compared with the transformed pan-cake batter, With nice, sweet butter, right fresh from the churn, And maple syrup, that makes the lieart 3earn. There's alike satisfaction, joy and peace, In cream biscuit made with cream and not grease. And poultry — fresh — transformed b}' woman's skill. That says to the appetite, peace — be still ! All the silver ore in fair Nevada. And the sweetest waters of Bethsaida, A starving man Avould exchange — and ask it, For a quail-pie that would fill his l)asket. A controlling share iu the Iron Mountain, And the most stock in Congress Fouutain, He'd almost exchange, all the best tilings of life, For a hot short-cake made by Bradley's wife. Each countrv home has a wife or daughter, As near like '• Brad's " as water is water. Gold-bearing coupons have transcending force. Oft turn the river of fame in her course. Making heroes of gigantic ciphers. And soft brains become their flattering fifers ; But what e'er the value, living or dead. How sadly they pale compared with sweet bread I Fame, Alas I hath her retinue of flies, Sipping its pangs in deceptive disguise — But,iiive me. the shade of the farmer's "'ourd. While I smile in freedom at his cupboard. The culmination of Heaven's toil Was the gardener, who should till the soil. Perchance, He might have made a better man — But we accept His work — approve His plan. Doubtless, Avhcn Time was young, and all things new All humau vocations were in His view ; HUSBANDRY. . 51 Each branch, doubtless, clamoring for fame. For the proud honor oi t\\Q first NAME. But, He chose the Farmer, and called him "good" — Gave him the garden in the flowery Avood — And the sequel, by the sewed leaves 'tis seen. He also gave him a sewing machine ; And Adam as all his sons have been, Sat a world of store by that "machine." I've watched the farmer fresh from his plow, With sun browned hands and ruddy brow ; With his wife, and the boys, and the fair girls, (Who to this day favor Eve in her curls,) In her sweet grace, her lovliness and mien ; And the same will ("to run the machine.") They, with noble steeds and spotless coach, Enter the city ; I've seen them approach The milionaire mercliant, his entire store Is at his command, meets him at the door. The clerks slyly desert the blear eyed snob. Whose nose is crowned with a minature fob. To wait on the farmer's girls, because, Of all success, they're the great first cause. When we cast our eyes o'er earth's extension — Through telescope of imagination, And behold th'wonders of every nation That has existed since the creation, We find ourselves without expectation Lost in revcry and veneration. We trace them back with discrimination, And discern perfect explication. From his hand of exemplification. 52 HUSBANDRY. That, ill fact, he has furnished every means — Fostered each enterprise with pork and beans. The nation's capitol is under his control, His Avife may supervise the nation's poll ; By teaching the boys the way they should go. And when they get grown, "go courting"' we know. What vast public works are built by his cash ! 'Tis for him, specially, savings banks crash ! Shrewdest schemes, and wild enterprises, soon, But for him, would "go up in a balloon." He supports idle scoundrels in the jail — While their families dip in the poor-house pail. Instead of the whipping-post. Reason's plan. Which afibrds such a zest to "act the man." He silently pays the tax on the bond That the millionaire uses as a wand Is used by the conjurer, to deceive; Still, the farmer, does not grieve, But pa\s tax on his farm year after year, And the bond-holder, from taxation clear. Smiles with the farmer and bids him good cheer, Often ivisJdng him a happy New Year. He loves the simmering of the spider And delights to sip the good man's cider Enjoys the eggs and the sweet ginger bread And the pleasure of his soft feather bed. Farmers ne'er make a tear of sorrow flow — His approach is as angels come and go. Few foster literature more than he, And none strive more to maintain Liberty. The Editor welcomes him to his roost, — He knows he's able to give him a boost. But, when the bond-holder comes in to loiter, How glad he'd swap for the farmer's daughter. HUSBANDRY. 5 3 And 'specially, so, if a single man And made up after Heaven's great tirst plan I The Doctor oft is the slave of caprice, Has little joy, independence or peace — Oft his efforts paid by ingratitude. Dispels hope and every beatitude. The pastor famishes on his doled fee, And oft seeks the farmer at evening tea. For ministers are mortal and can feel An abiding trust in a good square meal. Lawyers shear the avooI and divide the ileecc, Create a bedlam and misname it peace. Everybody is everybody's slave All the way through from cradle to grave, Except the farmer, who alone trusts God, Smiles in healthful toil and upturns the sod. And his daughters, free as the wild gazelle, That skips o'er mountains and the sunlit dell. Never schemes or stoops to pander or plot, Nor scarce give a snap if you love or not. She never hoards her money in a can, Saying, ''tJiis, this is all that makes a man I" The city 'tis true, has beautiful girls Lovely and pure as the mother of pearls. They'd make you a noble and splendid wife, And with sunshine, drive the clouds from your life But see the angling city hero, Hie to fields in early autum — To hunt the fish on lofty hills, And catch glimpses of "wandering dears !" How he strives to form acquaintance — "Learn of every l)ird its language, 54 HUSBANDRY. Leiini their nunies and all their secrets." How they spend their honrs in Summer, C.'inning fruits and making garments, Tilling tlowers, sweet and fragraiit, Shedding smiles of joy around them. Making home a very Heaven ! Bids them to his home in winter — Gallants them in spotless Portland — Talks with them where'er he meets them Calls them dears and pretty chiekcns, And at last proud to call them wife ! vj LIBRARY OF CONGRESS i ^ ;ni 016 165 851 W\ » Jrii.-' .