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 THE 
 
 CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK 
 
 S A. Al X' E L C A NTT, 
 
 thought after thought !-u»,ceeded each other in my brain, I was rn'ived by the appearance 
 <>i a little Chip-boy whom I saw coming towards me, with a basket-full of chips upon his back; so 
 > sorrowful, care-worn, and dejected was his look, that it even moved that adamantine 
 substance composing my heart. — See page 9. 
 
 32 r m f nrk: 
 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR. 
 
 W. H. Tfveow, Prmt«r tnA Strrentyj^r, C4 B«»km»n ftrwt, N. Y. 
 
iEx ICtbrtB 
 
 SEYMOUR DURST 
 
 "V ~Tort nt&tiw ^dm/larda™, oj> Je Manhatarus 
 
 When you leave, please leave this book 
 
 Because it has been said 
 "Ever'thing comes t' him who waits 
 
 Except a loaned book." 
 
 Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library 
 en i oi Seymour B. Durst Oi n York Library 
 
THE 
 
 CHIP BOY OF THE DM DOCK. 
 
 3 Inrnl 3Hnrd itnnj 
 
 BY 
 
 SAMUEL C^NTY, 
 
 A MECHANIC OF NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 N B W Y II K : 
 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED FOE THE AUTHOR. 
 
 1855. 
 
.C$7 
 
 according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S55, by 
 
 SAMUEL CANTY, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern 
 District of New York. 
 
 W. H. TDJSON, STEREOTTPEB, 24 BEEKMAN ST., N. Y. 
 
TO WORKINGMEN IN GENERAL 
 
 It is with deep respect that I inscribe this work to you as a co-laborer, hoping 
 that through my poor exertions you may be enabled to while away an evening 
 amid your families, thus seeking a relaxation from the busy turmoil of your daily 
 toil, with your little ones and friends clustered around you, reading to them the 
 story of the Chip Boy. Should I succeed in lightening for a brief hour the cares 
 and heart-burnings attendant on the precarious lives of my fellow workmen, my 
 object will be attained. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 In placing before the public the following work, I have a Strong 
 desire to point out the misuse and abuses applied to the word Charity. 
 It appears to have lost its meaning, and remains but an empty title, to 
 be used by designing men for speculation. The idea of a man standing 
 up in a public meeting, and proclaiming with a loud voice a donation 
 of fifty or a hundred dollars to relieve the suffering poor, is laughable ; 
 when, at the same time, he is buying up produce, bringing a scarcity 
 of an article in the market, thereby raising the prices, to increase his 
 worldly riches, which places it beyond the poor man's means to 
 purchase, and causes thousands to suffer in this land of freedom, where 
 there is plenty for all ; or, for years hoarding up his gold, deaf 
 to the cries of misery surrounding him, when, finding himself fast 
 approaching the grave, he will give large donations to various institu- 
 tions, or found some splendid edifice, that it may be called by his 
 name. What empty honor ! How much more good would his money 
 have done in relieving suffering humanity, and realizing during his life 
 the only blessing worth living for — that of the grateful prayers of the 
 poor. With this short preface, I send my story before the public, to 
 be judged of by them as to its truthfulness. 
 
 The Author. 
 
THE CHIP BOY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE DRY DOCK! 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Residing in the vicinity of the Dry Dock, my attention has ofttimes 
 been called to those little ragged specimens of humanity, termed Chip 
 Boys. These little fellows can be met morning-, noon, and evening 
 with torn and ragged clothing, shoeless, and, in many cases, hatless, 
 vending their stock in trade, with their usual cry of, " Here's your pitch 
 pine chips !" bearing a basket containing pine wood, which they purchase 
 from the different ship-yards at half price ; this sum falls to the share of 
 the workmen, which they term chip-money. Many a silk dress worn 
 by thegayly dressed ladies, seen perambulating the streets, is purchased 
 with the money thus obtained by their husbands, who are employed in 
 the different ship-yards. I have seen very small boys with a basket of 
 wood strapped to their backs, of such enormous weight, that their weak 
 frames would totter under the load. Walking one day in the early 
 part of December, in the year 1853, the weather being somewhat cold, 
 I met several of the before-mentioned little gentry, who exhibited much 
 suffering from the effects of the weather. I observed their destitute 
 appearance ; and, accompanying one of them to his home, a picture of 
 wretchedness met my view beyond description. There I beheld a damp, 
 carpetless floor, a couple of chairs with no backs, a fire-place without any 
 fire, a rudely constructed shelf, adorned with a bowl, a tea-pot without a 
 handle, a cracked cup, some two or three plates of the commonest kind ; 
 a bench stood at the farthest end of the room, which served them for a 
 table, when they happened to have anything to eat ; in one corner there 
 
8 THE CHIP BOY OF THE ■ DRY DOCK. 
 
 was a pile of shavings, covered with a torn sheet, which had once been 
 white ; but, by the appearance of it, the white had all washed 
 out. 
 
 As I entered, I beheld an object which once boasted of being called 
 a woman, but which was so deformed by dissipation, that it would 
 puzzle any quick-sighted man with the best of optics, aided even by 
 the telescope (which is generally seen by the hospital wall), to tell 
 what it was, lying at full length upon the bed ; beside her was seated 
 a man, in the act of drinking something from a bottle. I paused upon 
 the door-step, aud seizing the boy by the arm, I held him motionless, 
 while I gazed at the scene within. 
 
 Before the man could raise the bottle to his lips, the woman started 
 up, exclaiming, " Bad luck to ye, Dan ! don't drink it all ; " aud, 
 snatching at the bottle, she endeavoured to take it from him. In the 
 struggle it fell on the floor, and rolled beyond their reach, the contents 
 running out upon the dirty boards, forming itself into little pools, 
 which emitted an effluvia much resembling camphene, turpentine, gas, 
 and every ignitible matter within the knowledge of man, deposited in 
 one vessel, and sent by the devil, to barter for men's souls, under the 
 name of alcohol. 
 
 When they saw the liquor was destroyed, they began to pummel and 
 scratch each other most unmercifully. The boy observing this, escaped 
 from my grasp, hastened to his father, and, throwing his arms about 
 him, held him fast until his mother extricated herself from his clutches ; 
 when this was accomplished the boy retired, standing at some distance 
 from him, while he continued to curse and threaten his mother. Then, 
 turning to the boy, he observed : 
 
 " Billy, what do ye think? that ould witch has spilt all the drink." 
 
 "Well, father, don't beat her any more," cried the boy. 
 
 "Well, I won't, if ye'll do one thing." 
 
 " What is that ?" asked the boy. 
 
 " Did ye sell ve're chips, Billy V f 
 
 " I did." 
 
 "Then, if ye'll take the money and go ti'll the Dutchman's, and get 
 a drop of the crature, I'll never lay a hand on her ag'iu. Come, now, 
 run away, that's a little man." 
 
 " Father, I think ye've had enough," said the boy, in a coaxing 
 manner. " I wish the Timp'rance min would pass the Maine Law that 
 they talk so much about — I think they would be doing the main thing." 
 
 1 saw it would be useless to remonstrate with a man in his condition. 
 I turned on my heel, and left the house. As I walked along I fell into 
 the following train of thought : Philanthropy had taken such rapid 
 strides in the cause of suffering Humanity. The public papers were 
 teeming with acts of Benevolence and Charity — I was surprised that it 
 had not visited those regions. Was it possible that it did not go aside 
 from the public walks of life to dispense its gifts ; or was it left for 
 some individual, more humane than the rest, to place before the public 
 the misery that reigns in this section of the city ? By so doing, they 
 would have a large portion of their miserable fellow-beings ready cut 
 and dried for them, upon whom they could exercise their charity, similar 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 9 
 
 to the Five Points Mission, well knowing that when onee a stir is made, 
 the papers record all donations ; and if the benevolent donors should 
 happen to be of note, their names are Herald-^ by Bennett, or they 
 bask in the rays of Beach's Sun. Such charities do not suit the Times. 
 They should be sent with Dispatch, by some trusty Courier, to the 
 Tribune, where they would be disrobed of their worldly deformity, and 
 stand forth in their true guise, and show to the world that Charity is 
 something more than a name in this our Empire City. 
 
 I am willing to acknowledge the benefit derived by a large portion 
 of suffering humanity from worldly charity ; or, in other words, that 
 charity which springs from selfishness, or worldly interest. For 
 instance, I have heard of a very benevolent manager of one of our 
 nourishing theatres, who occasionally sends a box of boots and shoes 
 to the Five Points Mission, for the use of the destitute children. But 
 docs he turn aside in the dead hour of the night, and search out some 
 poor, suffering, barefooted child, and place a pair of shoes upon its 
 feet ? He would not need a pair of spectacles to find one, for there 
 are plenty of such spectacles to be met with, in our streets. Thus it 
 is plainly seen that those public charities keep to the broad walks of 
 life, while many an object of poverty suffers, and dies unknown, in 
 private. 
 
 While thought after thought succeeded each other in my brain, I 
 was moved by the appearance of a little chip-boy whom I saw coming 
 towards me, with a basket-full of chips upon his back ; so pale, so sor- 
 rowful, care-worn, and dejected was his look, that it even moved that 
 adamantine substance composing my heart. And, dear reader, I can 
 boast of being one of the most unsympathizing, uncharitable specimens 
 of the human race left unhung. I stopped immediately in front of him, 
 and. with a voice softened to as tender a key as I could assume, I asked 
 him what was the matter. He made me no answer ; but a tear rose, 
 and stood for an instant in his eye, then, finding its way down his pal- 
 lid cheek, it fell upon the sleeve of his torn jacket, as if it wished to- 
 bury itself in wretchedness. 
 
 I pulled my purse from my pocket (which, by-the-by, is generally 
 very light), gave him a penny, and passed on, intending to have it 
 mentioned in the papers, or record it iu my work, so that I might be 
 enabled to reap all the benefit which would accrue from placing the 
 knowledge of my donation before the world. 
 
 Being an early riser, I sauntered forth on the following morning, just 
 at the dawn of day, taking my way towards the river. 1 observed 
 that there were assembled upon the pier at the foot of Sixth street a 
 number of Chip-boys, with baskets upon their backs ; they were stand- 
 ing in a circle, all save one, who stood apart, in a melancholy attitude, 
 gazing upon the waters. Those that were congregated together gave 
 one hearty shout as the gun, proclaiming day, was fired at the Xavy- 
 yard. For this plainly told them that the workmen would soon appear, 
 which would be a signal for them to commence their daily toil. To 
 while away the intervening time, they commenced singing, with a not 
 unmusical voice, the following lines, which were arranged by some one 
 of them, and called 
 
10 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 THE CHIP BOYS' SONG. 
 
 We're a gang of young rips, 
 Who go ped'ling pine Chips ; 
 Through the streets we go trudging, my honey, 
 So loudly we do cry — 
 ' ; Here's pine Chips, who will buy ?" 
 For we have to work hard for our money. 
 
 Chorus. — Here's your pitch-pine Chips, 
 Here's your pitch-pine Chips, 
 Here's your pitch-pine Chips, to-day. 
 Here's your pitch-pine Chips, 
 Here's your pitch-pine Chips. 
 Come and buy, and I will go away. 
 
 As their voices died away t the form of a boy was seen, as the increas- 
 ing light began to make the surrounding objects discernible, hastily 
 issuing from beneath the bottom of a large vessel, which was upon the 
 stocks, crying — " Gooler, gooler." (The name commonly given by 
 those boys for plunder.) 
 
 There was a general scampering towards him, with the cry of 
 " Where ? Where ?" They disappeared, and returned again, bringing 
 out a quantity of tools that some of the workmen had concealed the 
 previous evening. 
 
 The boy who bad remained apart from the rest, now approached, and 
 gently remarked, 
 
 11 Do not. Oh ! do not take these tools ; it is very wrong ; you 
 know that you disobey one of the commands of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ." 
 
 11 Who cares for him ; who is he ?" cried one of the boys. 
 
 Tommy replied (for by that name we will call our little hero) — 
 
 " Him who came upon earth, and died to save sinners, such as you 
 and me." 
 
 " Don't you call me a sinner," cried the boy, going up to Tommy 
 and threatening to strike him. 
 
 " Who told you so ?" cried another boy. 
 
 Tommy made no show of resistance, but meekly replied to the last 
 question — 
 
 " One whom I hope and trust is in heaven — my mother !" 
 
 " Get out I" cried the boy ; " we don't want any of your 
 preaching f and catching hold of Tommy's cap, pulled it over his 
 eyes. 
 
 Tommy, extricating himself from the crowd, retired to the end of 
 the wharf. The boys were about to decamp with the tools, when one 
 of them remarked to the rest^ " that perhaps Tommy would inform 
 upon them, should they take the aforesaid articles." 
 
 Upon this suggestion from the boy, they all ran to Tommy, and 
 cried, 
 
 "Will you tell?" 
 
 " If I am asked," was the reply ; " for I was taught never to tell a 
 lie." 
 
 This reply deterred the boys from stealing the tools, which they 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 11 
 
 replaced in the spot from whence they had been taken. And, as if by 
 way of revenge, the urchin who had attempted to strike Tommy, 
 cried, " Throw him overboard." The rest of the crowd catching the 
 idea, ran towards him, crying, " Overboard with him ! overboard with 
 him I" And suiting the action to the word, they seized Tommy, and 
 before I could reach the spot to prevent them, they had hurled him 
 into the water and ran off, shouting up the wharf. 
 
 Tommy rose to the surface ; the tide was running down at a rapid 
 rate, which carried him from the shore out into the river, he soon 
 found it impossible to make any headway.' In his efforts to swim 
 towards the city, he found himself receding farther from it ; he saw 
 that his basket impeded his progress, and placing himself in an 
 upright position, which the boys generally term treading water, he 
 divested himself of his incumbrance ; in doing so his jacket, which 
 was much too large, slipped from his shoulders, and was carried away 
 with the stream ; he now found himself at liberty, and being an 
 excellent swimmer, he struck out manfully for the pier at the foot of 
 Third-street, which he was enabled, by the greatest effort to reach, 
 and clambering upon the dock, he ran, chilled and shivering, to his 
 home. 
 
 It was a desolate looking home, that of the Chip Boy ; — a place 
 where vice, debauchery, destitution, and misery congregated ; squalid 
 forms of every hue, could be seen in close communication ; if they had 
 the sum which was demanded by the old woman in return for a 
 shelter, 'twas all that was required. 
 
 Such was the home of our little hero, who had been reared by 
 a pious mother, and had been taught from his earliest infancy, 
 although surrounded by poverty, to walk in the straight and narrow 
 path. 
 
 Methinks I hear some of my fair readers cry, " Why did a boy, 
 brought up in that way, dwell in the midst of such vice V 
 
 I will take Paddy's privilege, and answer by asking another ques- 
 tion, " How far Would a poor little ragged orphan, with no one to 
 care for him, without the attentions of a mother to cleanse him and 
 keep him tidy, have to walk, before he could obtain a boarding-house, 
 in this great emporium of the Western World." 
 
 Your answer will probably be, "I never thought of that." Conse- 
 sequently, a shelter must be obtained, even in the low haunts of vice, 
 oftentimes by poverty-stricken virtue. 
 
 Upon the arrival of the boy, who entered shivering, from the effects 
 of his cold bath, he was asked by Mrs. Brown, the person who kept 
 the place, what brought him home ? 
 
 He timidly related the circumstance of his mishap, when he was 
 assailed with a perfect torrent of abuse ; and why ? because every penny 
 that he had been owner of, had been deposited within the lining of his 
 old jacket, which had gone floating down with the tide. Thus, the 
 savings of the week which he had collected to meet the demands of the 
 landlady, were gone at one fell swoop, and this being Saturday, the 
 money was due. 
 
 " Get out of my house, you lazy little imp. You can't come it over 
 
12 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 udd," cried Mrs. Brown ; " I'm up to you ; it's only a trick to cheat me 
 of my just dues." 
 
 " Indeed, Mftdam, I am telling you the truth ; do not be harsh with 
 me ; advance me but money enough to purchase another basket, and I 
 will work doubly hard to repay you." 
 
 " Clear out, clear out ! I'll have no deceitful hangers-on about me, 
 who try to cheat me ; so in this house you do not stay a moment ; so 
 get you gone. Clear." 
 
 With these words she pushed him up the steps and out upon the 
 side-walk ; then going in, she closed the door. 
 
 Thrust out into the open street, shivering with wet garments, 
 Tommy walked disconsolately along for some time. He waudered from 
 one street to another, and occasionally, as he cast his eyes upon the 
 baskets that were hung out for sale, he wished for money enough to 
 buy one, that he might be enabled to commence work, to gain more 
 money. He was on the point several times, as the day began to wane, 
 and the cravings of appetite to come upon him, to beg a basket from 
 some benevolent person, whom he saw at the store-doors ; but as their 
 gaze fell upon him, they wore such harsh expressions, that his heart 
 failed him, for he dreaded a refusal. He had seen several persous 
 carrying carpet-bags and packages, which he humbly offered to carry, 
 hoping thereby to gain a trifle to purchase his evening me*al, but he 
 was rudely thrust aside, with some harsh word ; and thus he wandered 
 on, until night, aye, and long after night. Haviug wandered back into 
 the neighbourhood where he had started from in the morning, the toy- 
 shops and other stores were all brilliantly illuminated. Weary and 
 hungry lie paused and stood gazing into a baker's window in Avenue 
 D., at the cakes and bread so bountifully displayed, but this only 
 increased his appetite, and he was in the act of turning away, when a 
 lady came out of the -door leading by the hand a child, and as they 
 passed him the little girl cried, " Mother, are you not going to buy me 
 the doll I showed you, on Christmas ?" 
 
 " Yes, my dear," was the answer. 
 
 How those words affected Tommy. A sense of loneliness came over 
 him — he had no mother — no friend — no home. He slowly wandered 
 on, turned down Third street, and proceeded towards the wharf. Upon 
 reaching the water's edge, he sat down and gazed into the stream, 
 which reflected back the bright stars that shone upon its bosom. He 
 had often done so of late ; lie would sit there for hours, and muse upon 
 his loneliness, and think of his departed mother. While sitting there 
 this eyening, busied with these thoughts, he fell into a gentle slumber ; 
 lie appeared lobe conscious that he was looking into the water, gazing 
 at the stars, which shone with a dazzling brilliance, creating a bright 
 hulo around a throne of milky whiteness, upon which was seated the 
 great Eternal Ruler. Upon his right hand sat his beloved Sou, tlpe 
 Redeemer, iuteveediug for our fallen race. Numerous happy angels 
 flitted to and fro, obeying his mandates ; ever and anon sweet bursts 
 of heavenly music would float upon the balmy air, borne on by gentle 
 zephyrs, which filled his soul with ecstasy. In front of the throne he 
 beheld the pale face of his mother, who w r as holding by the hand his 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 13 
 
 little sister, who had perished with hunger. His mother directed his 
 attention down to the bottom of a steep descent, where he beheld his 
 poor, lost, deluded father, among many others, writhing in agony in a 
 molten lake of burning tire, casting- supplicating looks upward towards 
 the throne of the Most High. After gazing for a few moments with 
 horror upon this scene, he again turned his eyes upon his mother and 
 sister, when he beheld a white banner floating above the throne, with 
 the following words in letters of gold — '•' Beware of the Tempter " — 
 displayed upon it. 
 
 While gazing on this heavenly vision with holy love and reverence, 
 he was startled by the ringing of a bell near him, which awoke him, 
 and ail the stern, sad realities of life returned upon him with full force. 
 He shuddered as he thought of his desolate condition, and crawling 
 under some boards, he wept bitterly, and endeavored to compose him- 
 self to sleep. 
 
 Sleep on, thou lone one. Weep not, poor boy, thy troubles will soon 
 be ended ; thou art not forgotten ; there is One ever watching over 
 thee, who does not even let a sparrow fall to the ground unnoticed. 
 
 Several benevolent and charitable persons wdio reside in the Elev- 
 enth Ward, and have done much good in the Temperance cause, labor- 
 ing diligently for years, ami whose efforts were blest in many cases, had 
 formed the idea and had organized a Mission Sabbath School and 
 Church, to which they gave the name of the Shiloah Mission, for the 
 express purpose of endeavoring to induce those little ragged boys who 
 might be seen upon the wharves on Sunday, tossing coppers, and other- 
 wise breaking the Sabbath, to go to school. 
 
 The following morning broke bright and beautiful over the city. 
 Twas Sunday, and the first day of the opening of the Mission, which 
 was in Third street, near the river, hi the morning, about nine o'clock, 
 a man was seen talking to a gang of boys on the wharf, using every 
 persuasive power that he was master of, to induce them to go with 
 him, where they would be taught something useful, and hear the teach- 
 ings of our Saviour. His invitation was treated with ridicule by most 
 of them ; and seeing that he could get none of them to accompany 
 him, he looked around, and observed a boy seated upon a piece of tim- 
 ber, near the end of the dock. He approached, and accosted him in 
 the following words : 
 
 11 Would you not like to go to our Sabbath School, 'tis near 
 at hand \ n 
 
 " Willingly, sir, would I go, but my clothing is so bad that I am 
 ashamed to be seen anywhere." 
 
 " .Never mind your clothing," replied the man, "our Saviour does 
 not look at the outside garment, let it be black or white, 'tis the pure- 
 of heart, and love to God, that He requires." 
 
 Poor Tommy finding himself so kindly spoken to, arose and went 
 with him. 
 
 As they proceeded up the street, this benevolent person cmestioned 
 the boy, thus — 
 
 'How is it that your clothe? are in such a horrid state, do your 
 parents drink '!" 
 
14 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 Tommy drew his sleeve across his eyes, wiping away a tear, as he 
 answered — " I have no parents." 
 
 Having arrived at the school, Tommy was placed in a class. The 
 person that brought him there intended to question him further, after 
 the morning service, and if he found the boy was in a destitute condi- 
 tion, to speak to those with whom he was associated in this good work, 
 and arrange matters to have him taken care of. But he was prevented 
 from doing this, by an occurrence which created such an excitement in 
 the immediate neighborhood of the church, that it interrupted the pro- 
 ceedings for the rest of the day. I allude to the arrest of Mr. 
 Parsons, for street-preaching, which has plainly proved that the evil 
 passions of men, have desecrated the sacred name of religion, and 
 have used it for political purposes, as a means to obtaiu their own 
 ambitious views, and self-aggrandizement, which is creating a deadly 
 wxmnd, causing disunion and distrust, which will dissolve all the bro- 
 therly feelings in this Eden of ours, bequeathed to us by the immortal 
 Washington. After the confusion had subsided, Tommy was not there, 
 nor was he found by the men who were in search of him, until the next 
 evening. 
 
 We will now take the liberty to introduce the reader into the humble 
 dwelling of a mechanic, where there was a scene enacting, such as 
 would cause angels to rejoice around the Throne of Mercy, and which 
 plainly proves to the world, that the Redeemer died not in vain ; 'twas 
 a deed of pure heartfelt Charity, such Charity as is hidden from the 
 eyes of the world. 
 
 The room contained five persons ; the first that we shall bring before 
 the reader, was a man well advanced in years, a mechanic, but an 
 honest laborer, having been intemperate in early life, he had followed the 
 sea for many years, but through the influence of some kind friends, he 
 had become temperate, and gave up the sea, was married, and supported 
 his family by his daily toil. He was seated near a stove in which 
 sparkled a bright fire, upon his knee sat a bright-eyed beautiful child, 
 gazing intently upon the operations of its mother, on the other side of 
 whom was standing a boy about eleven years of age, holding a lighted 
 lamp. Immediately in front of the stove, the mother of the family sat 
 busily engaged cleansing our little hero of dirt and vermin, while he 
 knelt before her. Pause, ye gay butterflies of fashion, pause, I say, in 
 your busy round of pleasure — pause in the midst of the whirling mazy 
 dance, bid the soul-stirring music cease, and gaze for a moment, on the 
 humble occupation of this woman, that of washing and comforting a 
 poor orphan. She too, had been one of the giddy throng, nurtured as 
 tenderly and reared in all the luxuries of life ; 'but heaven had so 
 willed it, that she was placed in a humble sphere, through the vicissi- 
 tudes of fortunes ; but, be assured she was happy, in being thus engaged, 
 and a tear arose in her eye which dropped upon the boy's hand, as she 
 thought of his destitute situation, and she inwardly prayed that some 
 kind stranger would do the same kind office for her dear children, should 
 they be left in a similar state. The boy feeling the tear drop upon his 
 hand, looked up into her face, and with a Countenance of heartfelt gratitude 
 exclaimed, " Oh ! you do remind me of my dear mother," saying which, 
 
THE CHTP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 15 
 
 he burst into tears. After he was washed and dressed in other clothes, he 
 looked comparatively happy, seated beside the stove. The infant who 
 watched all the proceedings, appeared to see that the boy was a just object 
 for her sympathy ; she clambered down from the father's knees, and 
 having found her little playthings, brought them to Tommy, endeavor- 
 ing to amuse him. Her brother taking the hint from the child, joined 
 with her, and began singing, while the infant, whose natural genius 
 for music was already developed, began to dance, which soon enlivened 
 the spirit of the boy. While seated here, in the midst of this kind but 
 humble family, he was questioned by Honest Will (as he was fami- 
 liarly termed by those who knew the man, who had been a friend of our 
 little hero), concerning his late misfortunes ; after which, they all 
 retired to rest. He did not go to bed supperless that night, neither 
 did he sleep exposed to the pelting storm ; no ! he had happy dreams 
 of former days, and a mother's spirit hovering round his pillow. 
 
 We will leave him under the kind care of Honest Will for the 
 present, and endeavor to unravel the cause of the destitute condition 
 of that poor boy. What a tale of patient suffering, fraud, villainy and 
 intemperance it will disclose, to do which, we will have to retrace our 
 steps many years in the history of our country. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 How different were the feelings of the residents of our good city, 
 upon approaching the Battery, some years past, from what they are 
 at the present day ; those noble mansions, standing in all thorough- 
 fares leading to that spot of ground which should be dear to every 
 American heart — that spot from whence the British troops took their 
 departure, when they evacuated Xew York ; giving up, as it were, at 
 the last gasp, inch by inch, the land of which they were destined never 
 more to hold possession. Those noble old mansions were inhabited by 
 wealth and beauty. But the march of improvement has marched our 
 aristocratic merchant princes up town, and filled their houses with 
 emigrants and lager beer. Instead of seeing the face of some young 
 and beautiful girl peering slyly from the curtained window, and the 
 sweet strains of music from within, you behold half-a-dozen bare- 
 headed Germans, with pipes in their mouths, staring at the passers-by, 
 and jabbering in their foreign language, which causes the old Xew 
 Yorker to gaze around, and, wondering, he asks himself if he has not 
 been carried by some magic power to another land. 
 
 In one of these houses, situated at the lower part of Greenwich- 
 street, in a room furnished with every luxury of the times, was seated 
 three persons ; it was a cold and stormy night in the month of 
 December, in the year of 1812. Before a large coal fire which 
 burned cheerfully in the grate, was placed a stand and chess-board, at 
 which two personages were diverting themselves.- The elder of the 
 
16 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 two, a Mr. Graham, was a retired merchant of great wealth, who 
 came to this country subsequent to the Revolution, where he had 
 amassed a handsome fortune. He had some years previous buried his 
 wife ; but, among the cares and turmoil of business, it did not affect 
 him much ; having leisure now to reflect upon the past,, the image of 
 her he loved would often rise to his view; the result was, that all the 
 affection of husband and parent were centred upon, his daughter, 
 Charlotte Graham, a lovely girl of nineteen summers, who was seated 
 on the evening we speak of at a piano, turning over the leaves of a 
 music-book, with an abstracted air, while Mr. Graham would,* ever 
 and anon, cast his eyes upon her, as he paused in the game. He was 
 a warm friend, generous to a fault ; but of ungovernable passions. 
 He was proud of his wealth, proud of his child ; but prouder than all 
 of his family name ; — he was the third son of an English earl. 
 Family pride was his besetting sin ; and, well as he loved his daughter, 
 he would rather have laid her in the tomb with her mother, than 
 consent to her marriage with a man who did not hold the same station 
 as herself in society. The third person was a young man, the only 
 son of Mr. Graham's sister, who had died some years previous, leaving 
 him in care of her brother, who educated him. 
 
 The father of George Seten died comparatively poor, but his 
 indulgent uncle supplied him plentifully with money at an early age, 
 which soon drew arouud him those who are ever to be found ready to 
 worship at the throne of wealth. He saw the power of gold ; lie saw 
 the advantage that money gave him over his fellow-men ; and, know- 
 ing himself to be dependent upon his uncle, he conceived the idea of 
 making Mr. Graham's property his own. After casting about in his 
 mind the most plausible manner by which he could obtain his desire, 
 he resolved to endeavor to gain the affections of his fair cousin, in 
 which he was seconded by his worthy uncle. 
 
 He was different from most young men of his time, who were in the 
 habit of indulging in the wine-cup ; he learned from experience, that 
 a man who had a point to gain in life, should abstain from liquor, for 
 nothing gives one man so much advantage over another, as the free 
 use of intoxicating drinks, and he thought with Cassio, "What 
 a fool man is to put an enemy into his mouth to steal away his 
 brains." 
 
 His cousin received his advances coldly. After endeavoring in vain 
 to make an impression upon her, he resolved to change his tactics, and 
 appear simply as her friend, hoping by so doing that he could remain 
 near her, and wait until fortune should point out some other way 
 whereby he would be able to obtain his cherished wishes — his uncle's 
 wealth. 
 
 Chance gave him an opportunity ere long to hope for such a result. 
 Some years previous, Mr. Graham became acquainted with a gentleman, 
 a farmer, in moderate circumstances, by the name of Manvers, for 
 whom he conceived a strong friendship. .Mr. Manvers was one of 
 those frank, open-hearted men, who are occasionally to be found 
 among the American fanners : lie was always a welcome visitor at the 
 house of Mr. Graham, when business brought him to the city. About 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. IT 
 
 two years before the outbreak between the United States and the 
 Mother Country, he brought his only son to New York to complete his 
 education prior to his entering college, his father depriving himself of 
 many necessary comforts, to fulfill his son's desire to obtain an 
 education suited to occupy the position of a minister, which he 
 aspired to. 
 
 On his arrival he was introduced to the family of Mr. Graham, 
 where he often visited. At his father's departure from home, he 
 requested his friend to have an eye to his boy, as he termed William, 
 adding that " youngsters sometimes went astray when away for the 
 first time from their mother's apron string." 
 
 George Seten was not well pleased at first with this intrusion in the 
 family circle, fearing that it would mar his plans for the future ; he, 
 therefore endeavored to draw William into dissipation ; for which pur- 
 pose he introduced him to a set of men, whose greatest boast was, 
 who could drink the most. Such companions and such scenes were 
 distasteful to him, and he soon withdrew himself altogether from 
 their society ; his greatest pleasure was to spend his evenings in the 
 society of the lovely Charlotte Graham. 
 
 Mr. Graham was fond'of his company, for William was an expert 
 chess-player, a game in which Mr. G. took great delight. 
 
 George Seten was much from home on evenings, purposely, for he 
 had conceived the idea that his fair cousin and William Manvers, 
 being so much together, would form an attachment for each other, 
 which would ripen into love, by their being undisturbed. This he 
 most earnestly desired, as he well knew that his cousin would fall 
 under the displeasure of his uncle, and his dark mind saw that, there 
 was something to be gained, should such be the case. 
 
 Two such persons as William Alanvers and Charlotte Graham could 
 not be much together without loving, for they were formed for each 
 other. Young Seten saw that his hopes were about to be realized, 
 when an event happened that checked his bold and daring schemes. 
 At this eventful period war was declared by the United States against 
 Great Britain. 
 
 Mr. Graham was in favor of the Mother Country, aided by Seten, 
 who never failed to agree with his uncle. William Manvers at times 
 had hard work to maintain his ground against them in defence of his 
 country, in a continual war of words. The friendship of Mr. Graham 
 o visibly to cool towards our yoifng friend, who, perceiving it, 
 made his visits less frequent. 
 
 Rumors of battles would occasionally arrive, which young Manvers 
 read with interest. A strong desire entered his mind to go forth to 
 battle in behalf of his native land ; he accordingly wrote to his father, 
 requesting his sanction ; to which he received a reply granting him 
 permission, concluding thus : — " Go forth my son with your father's 
 blessing. The name of Manvers shone brightly in the Revolution 
 T)o not let it be dimmed in the present struggle ; sacrifice all but 
 honor and truth, for your country's welfare." 
 
 On the evening in which he received his father's letter he met Miss 
 Graham on the Battery, takiug her evening walk ; on joining her, they 
 conversed upon the common topics of the day ; the conversation turned 
 
 2 
 
18 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK 
 
 upon the war, when William mentioned his in tended departure for the 
 army, upon which Charlotte turned deadly pale, and would have fallen 
 to the ground, had not young Manvers caught her in his arms, and 
 bore her to a seat beneath one of the trees. With what a thrill of 
 delight did he perceive her agitation ; it plainly told all that his anxious 
 heart would know. On her recovering he seated himself beside her, 
 and, taking her hand, he thus addressed her : — 
 
 " Am I indeed so blest ; or do I deceive myself, in supposing that 
 the agitation of Miss Graham was occasioned by the announcement of 
 my departure V . 
 
 Charlotte raised her eyes to his, beaming with love. 
 
 " It was. It came upon me so suddenly." 
 
 William Manvers drew still nearer to her side, and poured into her 
 ear his tale of love, and found a willing listener. 
 
 How beautiful that young pair appeared as the setting sun poured 
 its rays upon their countenances : the passers-by gazed on them with 
 admiring looks. Unheeded and forgotten were all surrounding objects ; 
 they were wrapt in the embrace of the enchanter — Love ; what was 
 the outward world to them — all, all was forgotten. 
 
 They were aroused by the voice of the servant, calliug upon Miss 
 Graham, whose father having become alarmed at her lengthened 
 absence had sent in quest of her. They arose from the seat, and gazing 
 around, were surprised to find that the walks were all deserted — time 
 had unconsciously flown by ; the moon had risen high in the heavens, 
 and the bright stars peered forth on that beautiful evening,, like the 
 rejoicing eyes of angels from the blue ethereal firmament — fit witnesses 
 to a tale of love so pure and holy. 
 
 They parted at the Northern gate. Miss Graham hastened to her 
 home; William stood gazing after her# until she disappeared from view 
 up Greenwich-street ; he turned lingeringly round, and departed. 
 They did not meet again until the close of the war. 
 
 George Seten, with all his ingenuity and art, could not ascertain 
 whether there existed a stronger feeling than friendship between his 
 .fair cousin and William Manvers. Vain had been his efforts to gain 
 Jier secret. 
 
 As we have before stated in the former part of this chapter, it was 
 upon a cold winter's night, when we took occasion to introduce to the 
 reader Mr. Graham, his daughter, and nephew. The wind came in 
 fitful gusts, rattling against the casements. It was a cold and bitter 
 night — a night on which those who were fortunate enough to have a 
 shelter, would draw around the fire, and shuddering, think upon the 
 houseless poor, who were exposed to the inclemencies of the winter's 
 blast. Charlotte Graham sat turning the leaves of her music-book 
 without noting the music ; her mind was far away ; she was thinking of 
 her absent lover, whom she had not heard from but once since his 
 departure ; tidinga from absent friends were not so readily received in 
 those days as they are in the present. As the happy days that they 
 had passed together recurred to her mind, she remembered a hymn they 
 used to sing together ; she touched the keys of the piano, and sweetly 
 played it from memory. 
 
 Mr. Graham and his nephew paused from their game to listen. 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 19 
 
 Young Seten also remembered heariug then: sing that hymn, and he 
 well knew that her thoughts were dwelling upon Manvers. He was 
 determined to make an effort to gain her secret ; the means employed 
 were worthy of him ; it was a master-stroke. As Charlotte concluded 
 singing, Seten took the daily journal from his pocket, and asked 
 Mr. Graham if he had heard the news, and on being answered in 
 the negative, he continued, "the paper gives an account of a battle 
 fought." 
 
 He gave the paper to his uncle, and, turning his gaze full upon the 
 face of Charlotte, said, " Our young friend William Manvers is men- 
 tioned in the list of wounded." 
 
 Miss Graham felt that she was watched; she- tried in vain to conceal 
 her emotion ; the shock came so sudden, and the news, so abruptly 
 broken, nearly overpowered her ; a deathly pallor overspread her 
 countenance, and dropping her head upon the piano, she nearly fainted. 
 
 George Seten felt happy ; he had gained all that his evil mind 
 wished to know ; he had discovered the key that would open to him a 
 mine of wealth, and make him sole heir to her uncle's fortune. 
 
 CHxlPTER III. 
 
 Charlotte Graham was aroused by her cousin, who, having risen 
 from his chair, advanced to her side, and addressed her in a low tone. 
 
 11 You had better be more guarded, sweet coz, or you will betray 
 your secret to your father." 
 
 Charlotte raised her head, aud gazing upon him with a haughty air, 
 said, 
 
 " What do you mean, sir ?" 
 
 " Oh ! nothing." Then, raising his voice, so as to be heard by his 
 uncle, 
 
 " Cousin, do play something lively ; the air you have just honored 
 us with has given me a fit of the ague ; it was as chilly as the air 
 without," 
 
 Charlotte felt the taunt, but made no reply. 
 
 Mr. Graham, who had been busily engaged perusing the paper, now 
 threw it aside. 
 
 11 Come, George, for another game." 
 
 Seten then seated himself opposite to his uncle, and commenced 
 placing the chessmen. 
 
 Charlotte saw that her cousin had noticed her agitation, and knew 
 the cause ; but might he not suppose that, hearing suddenly of a friend 
 or acquaintance being wounded, would startle her, or did he know of 
 her love for Manvers ? With these thoughts passing through her 
 brain, she endeavored to regain her self-possession ; and, placing some 
 new music, which she had that day received, touched the keys, and 
 commenced playing ; but ere she had concluded the first part, they 
 
20 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 were startled by a scream so piercing, so shrill, so heart-rending, that 
 it caused them to spring from their seats. 
 
 In a moment after, they heard a moaning and a knocking. Char- 
 lotte sprang to the door ; on opening which she was nearly thrown 
 down by the violence of the wind ; upon the door-sill she beheld a 
 small boy ; she caught him by the hand, and hastily drew him within ; 
 on entering the room, they discovered that the child (for he was but a 
 mere child, his age seeming not to exceed four years) was thinly clad, 
 being without hat or shoes ; Miss Graham led him to the fire ; when 
 her father, taking him by the hand, kindly asked him who he was ; but 
 could obtain no other answer than — 
 
 "Me mother — me mother V[ 
 
 " Who is your mother ?" he inquired. 
 
 " Me mother — me mother I" 
 
 The boy's eyes were busily engaged in gazing at the different articles 
 of furniture, when they fell upon the chessmen ; he ran and snatched ' 
 one of them ; he held it up admiringly, and danced round the room 
 whistling. 
 
 " Poor boy ! lie is half-witted," remarked Charlotte ; and again 
 taking him to the fire, she kindly inquired who his parents were. 
 
 The boy, recalled once more to recollection, began crying, " Me 
 mother — me mother." 
 
 "Where is your mother ?" asked Charlotte. 
 
 The boy pointed to the street. 
 
 " She is sleeping." 
 
 " Where ?" asked Mr. Graham. 
 
 '' In the street." 
 
 " Good heavens !" cried Charlotte ; " it was the mother of this poor 
 boy whom we heard screaming ; perhaps she lies perishing in the 
 street ;" and, springing to the bell-rope, she rang violently. A domes- 
 tic soon appeared. 
 
 " Betty, send James and John to me without delay ; tell them to 
 bring a lighted lantern with them. Speed — speed." 
 
 Betty quickly disappeared to obey her mistress' orders. 
 
 Charlotte hastily seized a cloak from off a chair, in which she envel- 
 oped her person, and left the room ; before she had gained the outei; 
 door, she was joined by the two men, who led the way into the street. 
 
 Scarce ten paces from the house, they perceived something lying 
 upon the clear, white snow. On approaching the spot, they saw it 
 was a human being ; but apparently lifeless. 
 
 " Poor creature !" involuntarily burst from Charlotte's lips ; "raise 
 her carefully." 
 
 The men, obeying her orders, gently raised her, and bore her into 
 the house. 
 
 They were met upon the threshold by Mr. Graham. 
 
 " Charlotte, it was wrong for you to rush into the street upon such 
 a night as this." 
 
 Charlotte, who had been followed by her father into the room, where 
 the men had carried the woman, turned her eyes upon her parent, as ' 
 she replied, 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 21 
 
 " Dear father, is it not better that I should feel the chill blast of 
 winter for a few moments, than that that poor creature should be left 
 to perish in the cold V 
 
 '* You are an angel, my love ; see that she is properly cared for.' 7 
 
 Charlotte bade the men raise the insensible woman, and follow her 
 out of the room. 
 
 Mr. Graham now turned his attention to the boy, who was seated 
 on the rug near the fire ; every one of the chessmen had disappeared. 
 
 " How came vou in the street upon such a cold night as this, my 
 lad ?" 
 
 " I walked on my legs." 
 
 " It would not take a philosopher to solve that question," replied 
 Mr. Graham, amused by the boy's ready answer ;. "but what caused 
 your legs to carry you ?" 
 
 " My will," and he commenced whistling. 
 
 Mr. Graham, surprised at hearing such answers from one so young, 
 again remarked, 
 
 " It was a strange time for any person, to have the will to be out 
 upon such a night as this ; what say. you, my little man ?" 
 
 He received no other reply than a vacant stare — so blank, so dull, 
 and idiotic, that few persons could suppose that reason had even for a 
 moment dwelt within that brain. 
 
 Mr. Graham saw at once that the child was one of those unfortunates 
 — half idiot, half rational ; but nature had counter-balanced his idiotic 
 moments by an undue share of wit during his sane moments. 
 
 George Seten, who had been a silent observer of all that passed, 
 arose, and, picking up the paper, folded it, and placed it in his pocket. 
 Then took his seat opposite Mr. Graham, who turned as if to renew 
 the game ; but on missing the chessmen, he inquired of Seten where- 
 they were, he sitently pointed to the boy. 
 
 Mr. Graham turned to the lad, and demanded them of him. 
 
 The boy, whose name was Tommy, cast a look of spiteful hatred at 
 George Seten, and reluctantly returned them to Mr. Graham, who was 
 soon busily engaged in the game. 
 
 Tommy sat alternately gazing into the fire and on the chessmen, 
 ruminating in his mind how he could repay George Seten for the fancied 
 injury lie had received, until he was summoned by a domestic to follow 
 her, who conducted him to a place of rest. 
 
 After having conveyed the insensible woman into another apartment, 
 the two men were dismissed by Charlotte. Every restorative had been 
 used for a time in vain, by Miss Graham and her attendants ; but at 
 length their efforts were repaid by a slight sign of returning life, a 
 reunion as it were of soul and body. A convulsive shudder ran through 
 the frame ; she opened her eyes, and gazing wildly around upon those 
 who were endeavoring to aid her, she muttered some incoherent words. 
 
 11 Fear not," remarked Charlotte ; "you are in safe hands, who will 
 do all in their power to serve you." 
 
 " Where am I f" inquired the woman, in a Scotch accent. 
 
 " You are with those who will take care of you," replied Charlotte. 
 
 "Ah! I recollect. " resumed the woman; "I was in the street, 
 
22 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 exposed to all the horrors of the uight, and you," she added, gazing 
 into Charlotte's face, with a look of gratitude, " have been kind enough 
 to save me from perishing. May the Lord forget me, lady, when I forget 
 your benevolent act ! But my boy, my puir boy ! where is he ?" 
 added she, gazing from one to another. 
 
 Charlotte assured her that he was well taken care of. and bidding 
 the woman not to agitate herself, had her conveyed to a sofa. At this 
 moment a servant entered with some warm nourishment that had been 
 prepared, and which being given to the womau, she evidently began to 
 gain strength. 
 
 Miss Graham gave orders to her attendants to have her conveyed to 
 a chamber, and provided with every necessary she might require. 
 
 On the following morning her first inquiry, when her maid appeared, 
 was concerning the womau. 
 
 She was informed that the stranger had risen early, quite recovered ; 
 and now only waited to thank her for her kindness. 
 
 Upon Miss Graham descending the stairs, she was accosted in the 
 hall by the woman, who stood waiting, holding her boy by her hand. 
 She bade her follow her into an adjoining room. 
 
 "Lady, I could na' think o' goin' awa ! without seeing ye, and 
 thanking ye for the preservation of my life, and for the care o' my puir 
 demented boy." 
 
 " How came you to be exposed on such a night as the past, to the 
 inclemency of the weather ?" asked Miss Graham. 
 
 " Lady, my story is na' very lang j but it's unco' full o' sadness. I 
 fear it wad be tedious for ye to listen fit." 
 
 " Xo. Pray do tell it," replied Miss Graham, becoming interested 
 in the woman, who, now being recovered, appeared to be young ; her 
 age could not exceed twenty-three years : ner features would be called 
 handsome by many ; but, as she stood before Miss Graham, with her 
 countenance brightened with gratitude, she appeared beautiful. She 
 seated herself, and, in simple words, related her story, which was to the 
 following effect. 
 
 " About a year since she came to this country with her husband and 
 child ; they were doing very well, until two months ago, when an acci- 
 dent happened to her husband, who was a carpenter, caused by his 
 falling from the building upon which he was working, and injured him- 
 self so severely, that after lingering three weeks in great pain, he died. 
 She had parted with all she possessed to defray the expenses of his 
 funeral : her own strength giving way, owing to her troubles, she had 
 been prostrated on a bed of sickness, aud would have perished for 
 want of nourishment, but for the kind attention of a young lady, named 
 Miss Temple, who had gone to spend a few days with an aged aunt in 
 Philadelphia. Before leaving, she had given her a small sum of money 
 for her expenditure until her return. On the previous day her landlord 
 had called and demanded his rent ; she explained her situation to him, 
 when he gruffly told her that she must either leave the premises, or 
 pay the money that was due to him. In hopes that he would not turn 
 her out with her child in such cold weather, she had given him all the 
 money that remained of the little store given her by her benefactress 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 23 
 
 On receiving which, he coolly cast his eyes round the room, calculating 
 the value of the few remaining articles that the room contained, when he 
 rudely ejected them from the house, even forbidding the boy from put- 
 ting on ft little jacket, which lay upon the bench. She wandered from 
 one street to another ; sometimes carrying the child, at others leading 
 him by the hand, until her strength giving way, she screamed, and fell 
 to the pavement." 
 
 ' At the conclusion of her tale, Miss Graham wiped away a tear from 
 her eye, which had rose unbidden at the recital. 
 
 " Have you no relations or friends in this country ?" 
 
 " Xo, my lady ; my bairn and mysel' are alone i' the warld." 
 
 M Where were you going to V* 
 
 "To seek some place o' shelter, and endeavor to gain some employ- 
 ment." 
 
 " Would you have any objection to enter my service V' asked Miss 
 Graham ; "lam in want of a trusty woman." 
 
 The woman fell upon her knees, and seizing Miss Graham's hand, 
 covered it with kisses ; and while tears fell from her eyes, she 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Bless you, lady ! May the choicest 'blessings o' God be your 
 reward. Do — do allow me to devote my life to your service, that I 
 may endeavor to repay you for your benevolence to me and mine." 
 
 Miss Graham bade her rise, and directed her to take her child into 
 the servants' room, and partake of some breakfast, and await her 
 orders. 
 
 She now proceeded to an adjoining room, where she was surprised to 
 find her cousin. Upon her entrance he arose, led her to a seat, and 
 addressed her as follows : 
 
 14 1 have sought this interview, dear coz, that we may better 
 understand each other. You well know that it has been one of your 
 dear father's projects that we should become united in wedlock. I 
 early saw that you were averse to the match, and consequently ceased 
 to pay attentions which were distasteful to you. I have long suspected 
 your love for William Manvers." 
 
 At the mention of her lover's name, Charlotte blushed deeply, and 
 averted her face from his gaze. 
 
 " The occurrence of last night," he continued, " has too plainly 
 convinced me that I judged not wrong. Fear not for your secret, it 
 rs safe with me. You well know your father's great folly or pride — 
 that of boasting of his ancestors. I have an idea, dear coz,' that he 
 will not willingly receive a farmer's son as the husband of his daughter, 
 nor allow plebeian blood to mingle with the pure current of nobility, 
 that can be traced back as far as the Xorman Conqueror. Whatever 
 crosses or troubles your attachment for young Manvers may give rise 
 to, I here pledge myself to aid you by every means in my power for 
 the attainment of your desires." 
 
 Charlotte suddenly seized his hand. 
 
 11 Dear, good cousin ; this is so kind — so generous. You did, 
 indeed, guess my secret — I do love Manvers ; but yet I tremble when 
 I think should my father become aware of it, how violent would be'his 
 
24 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 " Do not anticipate ; perhaps all will yet be well. Should Manvers 
 survive the war, and return to our city, he will, no doubt, if he still 
 loves you, solicit your hand from your father. Should he be refused, a 
 clandestine marriage is easily effected/' % 
 
 As he uttered these words, he keenly fixed his gaze upon her face, 
 endeavoring to read her thoughts upon such a step. 
 
 " It would break my heart, to disobey my kind, indulgent father's 
 wishes, or give him pain. Pray, Heaven, I may be spared from that*. 
 You mentioned, last evening, William's name as being numbered 
 among the wounded V 1 
 
 " 1 did. The battle of Queenstown has been fought ; Manvers was 
 wounded, but not dangerously, nobly fighting for his country. Here 
 is the paper, you can peruse it yourself." 
 
 Charlotte quickly seized the paper ; and saying, " Thank you, 
 cousin," hastily left the room. 
 
 Seten followed her with his eyes until she disappeared ; his counte- 
 nance was illumined with a demoniac smile — such as would appear on 
 the face of Lucifer, at having triumphed over another soul ; and, 
 muttering, "the game goes well," seated himself to await the 
 summons to breakfast. 
 
 By the consent of her father, Charlotte received Jenny Craige — 
 that being the woman's name whom she had rescued from perishing — 
 into her service. 
 
 Tommy became quite a favorite with Mr. Graham, who was greatly 
 amused by his tricks, and who never let an opportunity go by to annoy 
 George Seten ; for he never forgave him for detecting him in the pos- 
 session of the chessmen, upon the night he was admitted into Mr. 
 Graham's house. 
 
 Miss Temple, the young lady who had been so kind to Jenny, had, 
 on her return to the city, called at the house where she had left her 
 lying sick ; and, on being informed that she was turned into the street, 
 traced her to the house of Mr. Graham, where she called to ascertain 
 whether Jenny had recovered from her illness ; by doing so, she had 
 become acquainted with Miss. Graham, after which she often called. 
 It was there "that Seten first beheld Elizabeth Temple ; and, so often 
 meeting her, he soon felt that he loved her with all the love his black 
 heart was capable of. 
 
 Nothing occurred to disturb the tranquillity of Mr. Graham's family, 
 until after the difficulties between the United 'States and Great Britain. 
 were happily arranged, when William Mauvers .turned his steps home- 
 ward, after fighting in several engagements, having been promoted to 
 the honorable title of Major for his bravery. 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 25 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Some four weeks previous to the time on which the occurrences hap- 
 pened that have been detailed in the foregoing chapter, as George Seten 
 was returning home one stormy evening, he observed at a short distance 
 before him a young girl, who was endeavouring to make her way 
 against the wind and rain, which blew directly from the point to which 
 she was proceeding. 
 
 It was getting dark ; the cold blast came in fitful gusts, beating the 
 rain into her face, which she turned to avoid, thus giving Seten an 
 opportunity to behold her face. He was surprised at. the blaze of 
 beauty that met his gaze : she was, indeed, lovely. Though poor in 
 worldly riches, nature had, as if in recompense, bestowed upon her a 
 double share of that which all fashionables are most anxious to possess 
 — that which is the pride of high-born dames, and the sure ruin of 
 many a poor girl — a fair countenance. 
 
 Seten quickened his pace to overtake her ; his intentions were to 
 offer her a share of his umbrella : at this moment the girl's foot slipped 
 upon a piece of orange-peel, and she fell to the pavement. Seten 
 sprang to her side, and raising her, anxiously inquired if she had 
 received any injury. Upon being answered in the negative, he solicited 
 permission to escort her home, which was timidly given by the girl, 
 who kindly thanked him for his assistance, blushing deeply as their 
 eyes met. 
 
 She was soon clinging to his arm, and partially sheltered from the 
 storm, by the umbrella which he held before them ; thus giving them 
 an opportunity for conversation. Ere they had reached her home, he 
 .earned all he required to know. She had informed him that her- 
 self and her mother obtained a livelihood by needle-work ; that she was 
 just returning from a store in Broadway, for which they worked, and 
 where she had been to obtain some money which was due them. 
 
 Seten was always attracted by a pretty face, and while she was thus 
 chatting as they walked along, he was revolving in his mind the most 
 approved plan to consummate the hellish design that had taken posses- 
 sion of his brain — that of her betrayal. 
 
 Upon their arrival, he was requested to walk in, which invitation he 
 accepted ; and, on being ushered into a small room, plainly but neatly 
 furnished, he was introduced to her mother, to whom he gave his name 
 as Grafton, and learned in return that the name of his hostess was 
 Smith : she begged him to be seated, and partake of a cup of warm 
 tea, which was just ready, as a preventive to his taking cold. 
 
 He readily consented, and the trio were soon seated at the little table, 
 chatting away as familiarly as if they had been acquainted for years. 
 Seten, besides having a fine personal appearance, could make himself 
 very agreeable when in the company of ladies. Louisa was delighted 
 with him, and before he had risen from the table, he had made a willing 
 captive of her heart. Mrs. Smith sat looking on admiringly. 
 
26 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 How cautious should mothers iu lowly life be what company they 
 allow their daughters to keep. Iu their blinduess aud anxiety to 
 obtain an eligible match for them, they do not pause to reflect or ascer- 
 tain the character of the man ; if he has wealth, it is all-sufficient ; for, 
 from the cradle to the altar, wedlock is the aim of girls ; they dwell 
 upon it by day and dream upon it by night ; they think that when 
 that desired object is accomplished, they have fulfilled their destinies, 
 and rush on headlong towards its consummation, without oue thought 
 beyond it. 
 
 Mrs. Smith sat looting on : future visions of grandeur arose before 
 her eyes ; she thought they were formed for each other, for a finer 
 looking couple could be rarely met with. She was aroused from these 
 ideas, by Seten rising to depart ; and after being pressed, by both 
 mother and daughter, to renew his visit, he wended his way homeward, 
 thanking his lucky stars for guiding him into the presence of such a 
 lovely girl. 
 
 The mother of Louisa was oue of those kind-hearted, simple-minded 
 women, who can be found occasionally in the lower walks of life ; she 
 was ever ready to reuder aid to any one sticken down by disease ; were 
 a neighbour sick, Mrs. Smith was the first called upon ; she never failed 
 to obey the summons readily, and when busied around the couch of an 
 invalid, she was in her glory ; she even made it her boast, that she was 
 never so happy as when making herself useful. Different from most 
 poor people, she had a great respect for the wealthy ; and if by chance 
 she was addressed or noticed by any one belonging to the higher 
 circles, she would speak of the circumstance for a month afterwards. 
 
 Her husband died a few years previous, leaving her, as most working 
 men leave their widows — destitute, depending wholly upon their own 
 exertions for a subsistence ; but in those days an industrious female 
 could manage to support herself respectably by her own labor. The 
 inventive genius of man had not at this early period brought before the 
 public those machines, whereby the aged female and the working girl, 
 depending entirely upon their needle, are in. many instances deprived 
 of their scanty, hard-earned pittance. 
 
 With such a weak-minded mother, it was not strange that the 
 education of Louisa Smith had been much neglected ; flattered by 
 those around her, by whom she was often complimented for her beauty, 
 she had imbibed foolish ideas, which were not discouraged by her 
 mother, who often told her she was destined to flourish in fashionable 
 life. 
 
 When Seten had left the house, Mrs. Smith, looking at her daughter, 
 observed, 
 
 " I knew, Louisa, you were born under a lucky star. Only see what 
 a nice bean you have got. For the first time since your father's death, 
 I dreamed of him last night ; and to dream of a deceased husband, 
 never fails to bring some good fortune to the dreamer/' 
 
 Louisa muttered some unintelligible words, and then pleading fatigue, 
 they soou retired to rest. The mother to dream of riches, dispensed 
 freely, as if by some fairy hand ; the daughter, to dwell upon the 
 thought of her new-found lover. 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 27 
 
 For some time she tossed restlessly upon her pillow ; at length, fall- 
 ing'into a gentle slumber, she dreamed that she was walking with Seten 
 in a sequestered grove. Nature had been bountiful, dispensing with a 
 lavish hand flowers of every description ; the air was musical with the 
 songs of the feathered choristers ; a lake of pure crystal water flowed 
 at their feet, wherein they beheld the sports of the finny tribe as they 
 darted hither and thither in the transparent stream : upon the sur- 
 rounding hills could be seen the gentle lambkins as they playfully gam- 
 bolled to and fro ; night was drawing on apace, and the setting sun 
 shed a flood of golden light over the scene, tinging everything with a 
 mellow hue. It was a lovely and retired nook, where lovers could 
 unobserved hold sweet converse, free from the rude gaze of the world. 
 He had declared his love for her, and she leaned languidly upon his 
 arm, nearly overpowered with blissful emotions, when he playfully 
 snatched a rase from her hand. She endeavored to regain it : in the 
 struggle, it fell to the ground ; stooping hurriedly to pick it up, she 
 beheld with amazement the cloven foot of the Spirit of Darkness ; a 
 loud peal of thunder shook the very earth to its centre ; starting back 
 with affright, she looked up into his face ; but oh ! how altered ; there, 
 with gleaming eyes, filled with hate and revenge, stood Lucifer ; he 
 brandished a fiery dart over her head ; to avoid which, she bent down ; 
 when, to her horror, she perceived that the rose had assumed the form 
 of a fierce serpent, which ever and anon spit its venom upon her, and 
 encircled itself around her slender form. The demon cried in an angry 
 voice, "Yon have discovered my secret, you must die." The blazing 
 dart entered her fair bosom, and the blood flowed in streams down her 
 white robe. 
 
 In the struggle to prevent herself from falling she caught her mother 
 by the arm, who, being aroused from her slumbers, hastily awoke her, 
 at the same time asking what was the matter. 
 
 Louisa trembled violently, and clinging to her mother, replied that 
 she had had such a horrible dream. 
 
 " Is that all F asked her mother. ' ; Why, you silly child, compose 
 yourself. I hope you are not going to let a simple dream annoy and 
 disturb you the whole night V 
 
 " Oh ! it was so dreadful ; it still clings to me in my waking 
 thoughts so vividly, that I fancy it is reality." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh ! go to sleep ; you have awoke me from one of the 
 most delightful dreams imaginable. I thought you were married to 
 that nice young gentleman, and that we removed from this dreary 
 dwelling to a large and splendid mansion in the outskirts of the city. 
 It was night, and in a room, furnished magnificently, I beheld you and 
 your husband seated at the upper end receiving the homage of a vast 
 crowd, who came in throngs to worship at the shrine of beauty ; sweet 
 music floated on the air ; the bright light from numerous chandeliers 
 reflected back a thousand lustrous hues upon the jewelled dresses of the 
 visitors. I stood in a retired part of the room, admiring all I beheld, 
 when I was awakened by you. 
 
 As she concluded, sleep again overcame her, and she was soon locked 
 in the arms of Morpheas. 
 
28 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 Louisa lay awake for hours, unable to shake on the horrors of her 
 dream ; she strove to assure herself that dreams were nothing more- nor 
 less than the imaginings of a disturbed and excited mind. 
 
 " Poor, simple girl ! throw not the warnings from thee which the 
 Great Dispenser has in his mercy sent to save thee from destruction. 
 It is no creation of distorted fancy ; it is one of those occurrences 
 which are sometimes permitted when the All-seeing eye of God, in pity- 
 ing mercy for the innocent victim, deigns to stretch forth a saving hand/ 7 
 
 Towards morning: she fell into a feverish slumber, from which she 
 was awakened by her mother bidding her rise, as the sun had already 
 risen high in the heavens, proclaiming that the morning was far ad- 
 vanced. 
 
 She arose, hastily entered the sitting-room, and apologized to her 
 mother for her late rising. .They were soon seated at breakfast, when 
 Louisa was compelled by her mother to relate her dream, and she con- 
 cluded by saying that she had never been so terrified in her life. 
 
 Her mother laughed heartily ; bidding her cast off all gloomy 
 thoughts ; that she felt assured her dream denoted happiness and pros- 
 perity ; but at all events she would look up her fortune-telling book, 
 and examine it. 
 
 The bright morning sun tended in a great measure to chase from the 
 mind of Louisa the horrors of her last night's vision ; but throughout 
 the whole day, while even engaged in her daily occupation, it would 
 intrude upon her mind. 
 
 Early in the evening both mother and daughter, after arranging and 
 putting the room in order, seated themselves at the window, anxiously 
 looking into the street, hoping, yet still fearing, that their new acquaint- 
 ance would not come. 
 
 They were not long kept in suspense, for Seten soon appeared at the 
 front door. Mrs. Smith hastened to let him in ; and upon entering 
 the little room, Seten approached Louisa, and tenderly inquired after 
 her health. 
 
 The fair young creature had risen at his entrance, and as she 
 extended her hand to him, a shudder passed through her frame, and 
 she blushed deeply as their hands came in contact ; they then seated 
 themselves upon the small sofa from which she had risen. 
 
 Seten, addressing Mrs. Smith, inquired if she had spent the day 
 pleasantly. He was answered in the affirmative, when she drew a 
 chair, and seated herself near him. 
 
 During the conversation, Mrs. Smith mentioned the terror experi- 
 enced by Louisa on waking from her dream ; and laughingly concluded 
 that she could not have been more frightened if it had been real. 
 
 Seten pressed Louisa to relate it, and being seconded by her mother, 
 she blushingly complied with their request. 
 
 When she had arrived at the terrific finale, she raised her ey 
 those of Seten, who started, and turned pale ; but, soon r 
 himself, he laughed heartily, and holding up a very small foot, 
 fully fitted with a new boot, he exclaimed, 
 
 " My dear, that does not much resemble the cloven foot of the 
 Arch-deceiver, nor does this bear much resemblance to what we 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 29 
 
 would suppose to be a likeness of his Satanic *majesty." As he thus 
 spoke, he took from his pocket a miniature, which he presented to 
 Louisa. 
 
 The mother and daughter gazed upon it admiringly, when Louisa, 
 unobserved, concealed it in her bosom, near her heart. The evening 
 passed pleasantly away, as did many -subsequent ones, for Seten called 
 often, and he made good use of his. time. 
 
 On a pleasant evening, about three weeks after he became acquainted 
 with the family, he was seated with Louisa upon the sofa : they were 
 alone, for the old lady had gone to church, which she never failed 
 doing, for she attended evening prayer-meetings, as well as the regular 
 service upon the Sabbath. 
 
 Seten sat with his arm encircling the slender form of the young girl ; 
 he had drawn from her an avowal of her love, and, with her head 
 reclining upon his bosom, her beautiful bust heaving with blissful emo- 
 tions, and her deep, lustrous blue eyes beaming with love. Oh ! she 
 was happy : what was the outward world to her ? her earthly heaven 
 was complete. She thus remained motionless, fascinated, as it were, 
 by his gaze, as the trembling bird is charmed and lured on to destruc- 
 tion by the gaze of the reptile. 
 
 Seten saw and enjoyed his power over his victim, as the hungry 
 tiger revels in the anticipation of his meal with the trembling lamb, 
 crushed beneath his paw ; or the cat playing with the little mouse, 
 permitting it to make vain efforts to escape, knowing that she can 
 devour it at will. 
 
 $ •* * . * 4t * * -/.• 
 
 Dear reader, we will draw a veil over the picture of the betrayer 
 and betrayed, with the knowledge that auother victim has been sacri- 
 ficed to the base passion of man. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 At the close of the war, when William Manvers returned to Xew 
 York, he presented himself at the door of Mr. Graham. Upon the 
 announcement of his name, Charlotte rushed to meet him, and falling 
 upon his bosom, he imprinted a holy kiss upon her brow, which assured 
 her that his love was unchanged. 
 
 Her father received him coldly : after sitting for some time, he saw 
 that it would be impossible to obtain an interview with her he loved, 
 snatching an opportunity, he hastily informed her that it was his 
 intention to proceed home the following day, as he felt very anxious 
 concerning his parents ; adding, that on account of the unsettled 
 state of the country, he had not heard from them for a long period. 
 He soon after took his departure. 
 
 When they were left alone, Mr. Graham, seating himself beside 
 Charlotte, thus addressed her : 
 
30 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 " I observed your heightened color, during the stay of young 
 Manvers ; and a suspicion crossed my mind for a moment, that you 
 had been unguarded enough to allow your heart to be captivated by 
 •his fine person ; but I am convinced that I judged wrongfully ; did I 
 not, my daughter V • 
 
 Charlotte reflected for a moment. She had never had a secret 
 unknown to him before, yet she dreaded his anger ; why not meet it 
 now, as well as postpone it to some future period ? She knew and felt 
 that her love was so deeply rooted in her heart, that nothing, save 
 death could ever erase it. Coming to this determination, she fell upon 
 her knees before him, and confessed her passion for Manvers. 
 
 Mr. Graham started to his feet livid with rage. 
 
 " Is it so ? fool that I was to permit him to mingle with my family. 
 The base-born churl, to sneak into society, far too elevated for his 
 low-bred mind, and steal the choicest flower from the midst of those 
 who welcomed and trusted him. It is my command that you discard 
 him wholly from your thoughts ; for, with my consent, you never will 
 wed him." 
 
 " Dear father, I have never disobeyed your command ; and how it 
 would pain me to do so, no tongue can express ; but to obey your 
 wishes is beyond my control ; my heart is his — true as the magnet to 
 the pole, is my destiny interwoven with his." 
 
 Mr. Graham rudely spurned her from him, exclaiming, 
 
 ** Then you are no longer a daughter of mine : the moment that 
 you plight your faith to him at the altar, that moment there is placed 
 an impassable gulf between an indignant, fond father, and a disobedient, 
 ungrateful child." 
 
 He hastily left the apartment ; and Charlotte rising to her feet, 
 proceeded to her chamber, where she wept bitterly. Hearing a rap at 
 the door, she bade the party enter. The door being opened, Jenny 
 Craigie appeared, and requested permission to come in ; which, being 
 granted, the faithful creature fell upon her knees before Charlotte, 
 saying, 
 
 " I hope, my leddy, ye'll forgi'e me ; it's no for the likes o' me to 
 be interferin' with that concernin' my betters ; but I would'na be able 
 to sleep soundly, if I thought any liarm would come to ye ! At the 
 time when your gude father was talkin' so loudly wi' ye, I observed 
 your cousin standin' agin the door ; list'nin' wi' sich a deeviFs grin 
 upon his countenance, that it made me think that he was no true 
 friend to ye ; and when ye came to your room, he bid me tell ye that 
 he wished to speak to ye in private." 
 
 Charlotte thanked the kind-hearted Jenny for the interest she took 
 in her welfare : and bade her tell her cousin that she would see him 
 in her room. 
 
 Jenny departed, and in a few moments George Seten entered, 
 and seated himself by Charlotte, with a look betokening deep sym- 
 pathy. 
 
 " Dear coz, I heard your interview with my uncle, and I was 
 anxious to congratulate you upon the moderation with which he 
 received your confession. Should he still persist in his opposition to 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRVT DOCK. 
 
 31 
 
 your union, be would soon forgive you should you be forced to the 
 only alternative — that of being united clandestinely. I entered the 
 room on your leaving it. My uncle soon returned, and I endeavored 
 to plead in your behalf, but he harshly bade me be silent/' 
 
 After some further conversation, in which Charlotte was more 
 guarded than usual in her expressions* — Seten departed. 
 
 She pondered a long time upon the turn affairs had taken ; it was 
 evident to her that her cousin had some sinister view ; but what she 
 could not tell.. She resolved, however, to be guided by the clear 
 judgment of her lover. While she sat thus buried with her own 
 thoughts, she was summoned by one of the domestics, who had been 
 sent for her by her father. 
 
 On her appearing before him, he bade her be seated, and addressed 
 her in the following terms : 
 
 " Charlotte, I have sent for you, to see if we cannot settle this diffi- 
 culty, amicably. You are aware of your cousin's destitute position in 
 regard to worldly matters, and it was my anxious wish for a long time, 
 that you would grow up to love each other, thereby keeping my 
 estates in the family, and thus placing him above dependence ; but it 
 long appeared that being so much together, has had an effect contrary 
 to what I desired ; therefore, I make no opposition to his endeavoring 
 to gain the hand of Miss Temple. I am fast advancing in years, and 
 nothing would make me so happy, as to see you properly settled before 
 my demise ; while revolving these thoughts in my mind a short time 
 since, I received a visit from my former old partner in business, on 
 which he stated to me that nothing would gratify him more than an 
 arrangement to effect an alliance with my family ; stating that his 
 son, Henry Wilson, had declared to him that he had long loved you, 
 and had requested him to apply to me for permission to pay his 
 addresses to you. As you well know, young Wilson is a man highly 
 esteemed by all who know him ; and his family are of the highest 
 standing in society. I, thereupon assured his father, that if such an 
 arrangement could be brought about, it would meet with my approval; 
 telling him at the same time that I would use my influence with you ; 
 what think you of it, my daughter ?" 
 
 "My dear father, I feel deeply sensible of young Mr. Wilson's kind- 
 ness in making me the offer of bis hand ; but much as I esteem him, 
 I feel assured that I could never love him : should I consent to give 
 him my hand, it would be without my heart. And how, dear father, 
 could I stand before the altar with a lie upon my tongue, pledging 
 myself to love a man for whom I had no tender feeling. Oh ! no, no, 
 I could not do it." 
 
 " Time, my beloved daughter, may ripen esteem into love," replied 
 her father ; " but having clearly stated my views, I wish you to 
 dismiss that fortune-hunter, young Manvers, from your mind. Upon 
 that table," added he, pointing to the side-table, "you will find pen, 
 ink, and paper, and it is my command — understand me — it is my com- 
 mand, that you address a note to him, telling him it is my opinion that 
 he is a villain, and that you discard him from your heart." 
 
 "Never! father," answered Charlotte, firmly. "I never willingly 
 
32 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 told a falsehood in my life, nor will I now ; for, should I write as you 
 dictate, it would be false : my destiny is interwoven with his. It is 
 beyond my own control." 
 
 "Then take my curse," angrily, cried her father, "and leave my 
 house : this roof shall not shelter you longer." 
 
 Charlotte fell upon her knees before him, exclaiming — 
 
 "Oh ! father ; dear father, revoke those cruel "words." 
 
 He rudely pushed her from him, and left the room. 
 
 Charlotte sternly arose, the arrow of disobedience rankling in her 
 heart, and hastened to her own apartment, where she hurriedly packed 
 up a few things, and was about to leave the house when she was met in 
 the passage by Jenny and Tommy Craigie. 
 
 "Oh ! my dear young leddy, are ye goin' awa' to leave us ? I'm 
 sure I'll na stay in't house' a minute after ye're gone." 
 
 And Jenny sobbed violently. 
 
 Tommy looked up in Miss Graham's face, saying. 
 
 "I'll go too ; if I lose my fun with the old madman (alluding to 
 Mr. Graham) ; but I won' give up my tricks on Beelzebub. Oh ! 
 won't I come and tease him sometimes. Won't I, mamma?" 
 
 Miss Graham took Jenny kindly by the hand, and, speaking in a low 
 voice, said — 
 
 " My faithful friend, I go to seek a shelter for myself; this .house 
 can no longer be my home ; but it is no reason that you should 
 leave it." 
 
 " Oh ! say not so, my leddy. I could na sleep sound i' my bed, if I 
 did na know that ye were comfortable. I wad'na be happy wi'out 
 being wi'ye." 
 
 After reflecting for a minute, Miss Graham bade her go into her 
 own room, and get some articles of dress which she described to her, 
 and follow her to the residence of Miss Temple. She then left the 
 house, with a sad heart. 
 
 Mr. Graham, on hearing the door close, came into the passage, and 
 inquired of Jenny who had left the house. 
 
 " Miss Charlotte, sir," was the reply. 
 
 Mr. Graham returned to his sitting-room, and, seating himself, he 
 muttered — 
 
 "Well, well, perhaps I have been too severe; but she'll return 
 again. Yes, yes, she'll return again." 
 
 He thought, like too many fathers, who have become advanced in 
 age, and the bright visions of youth have passed away, that his daugh- 
 ter was wrong, and that her love was but an idle passion, that time 
 would soon erase from her memory. Oh ! how he misjudged her, who 
 loved so truly, that it would cease only with her death. 
 
 George Seten was now the acknowledged lover of Elizabeth Temple ; 
 he had gained her heart. Many were his protestations of love to her, 
 but he did not love her truly ; worldly aggrandizement was his aim, 
 for, by wedding her, he would become possessed of a vast fortune. 
 Devoted indeed, was her love for him — it was a portion of her exis- 
 tence — life would be nothing without him ; so well had he cloaked his 
 villainy, beneath the mask of hypocrisy. Their union was only delayed 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 33 
 
 until she should arrive at the age of eighteen, which she wanted but a 
 few months of attaining. 
 
 Seten had still kept up his connection with Louisa, whom he still 
 deluded from day to day with promises of marriage ; offering as an 
 excuse, that should he wed her, and it come to the knowledge of his 
 father, it would cause a rupture ; perhaps he would be cut off with a 
 shilling, and then they would be destined to lead a life of poverty and 
 privation ; it was more for her sake -than his own, he would sometimes 
 say ; and what misery would it not be to him to see one whom he loved 
 suffering, without his having the means of relieving her wants. 
 
 Louisa had become the mother of a boy ; and, strange to say, Seten 
 loved the child with the tender affection of a parent. Many an hour 
 did he while away, with little Frank seated upon his knee, listening to 
 his infant prattle. 
 
 Mrs. Smith had been dead some months ; her daughter's situation, 
 through her intimacy with Seten, come upon her like a thunder-stroke.. 
 She accused herself as the cause, and her mind — never very strong — 
 gave way beneath the blow ; her reason tottered, and she would rave 
 for hours against herself, her daughter, and her lover. It became 
 necessary to have her removed to the asylum set apart for lunatics, 
 where she soon ended her days. 
 
 Seten would have long since rid himself of Louisa, had it not been 
 for his child, with whom he was loath to part. 
 
 He was seated with Miss Temple, when Charlotte arrived at the 
 house of that lady. She was welcomed by her, to whom she related 
 ner situation, and the stern and cruel commands of her father. 
 
 Seten remarked that his uncle was very hasty ; but his passions 
 seldom lasted long ; and he had ::o doubt that, upon reflection, he 
 would send for her. 
 
 Miss Temple placed two rooms at the disposal of Charlotte, for the 
 accommodation of herself and her attendant, Jenny, who soon arrived, 
 when her mistress bade her follow her to her apartment. 
 
 Seten being again left alone with Elizabeth, he made it appear to 
 that young lady that he sympathized with his cousin, and blamed his 
 uncle for his harshness towards her, saying it was cruel to order her 
 from the house. At the same time lie was inwardly resolving that she 
 should never enter it aga 
 
 It was with a beating heart that William Manvers sprang from the 
 wagon into the road, when it stopped in front of the gate which led to 
 the house of his father. He did not pause to open it ; but lightly 
 leaped over it, and hastening up the lane, he soon arrived in front of 
 the house ; to his surprise he found it closed, as were the windows also, 
 which gave a gloomy appearance to everything that met his view ; 
 gazing around wed an air of neglect ; articles were screwed 
 
 about upon the ground, giving to the whole scene a look of disorder. 
 
 His heart beat quick with apprehension, as he made a circuit of the 
 building ; a dark foreboding came across his mind. Where was his 
 father, his mother, whom he expected would meet him with open arms. 
 
 Looking anxiously around, he observed a stranger advancing towards 
 him, who rude' sed him in the following manner : 
 
34 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 . " Hello ! Mister, what are you adoing there V* 
 
 William answered him by asking in an agitated voice, where Mr. 
 Manvers was ? 
 
 " You must be a stranger about these parts," replied the man. 
 
 " I have been long absent, and have but just returned," hurriedly 
 answered William. 
 
 I Where have you been — to the wars V 
 " I have." 
 
 II Then, mayhap, you have heard something about young Manvers ? 
 that is, if he is dead or alive ?" 
 
 " I am lie ! For the love of God, keep me no longer in suspense. 
 Where are my father and mother ?" 
 
 "They are both dead," the man abruptly replied. 
 
 William heard no more : he staggered to a tree, which he leaned 
 against for support, and gave way to his overcharged feelings. 
 
 When he was somewhat recovered, the man informed him that Mr. 
 Allen, the minister, would give him what information he required, 
 as the elder Mr. Manvers had left his affairs to be settled by that 
 gentleman. 
 
 William thanked the man for the intelligence he had received. And, 
 taking one sad look at the grounds where he had spent so many happy 
 days, slowly turned his footsteps towards the parsonage. 
 
 Upon his arrival, Mr. Allen received him at the door, and welcomed 
 him with a silent pressure of the hand, and led him into the small, neat 
 sitting-room, where he requested him to be seated. 
 
 William had always been an especial favorite with the good Pomine, 
 who felt all that a sympathising heart could feel for the bereavement 
 of his young friend. 
 
 After a few moments' silence, he thus addressed him. 
 
 " You have been over to the house ?" 
 
 William nodded assent. 
 
 "Then you have, no- doubt, heard of your loss. My young friend, 
 remember it was the will of Him who rules above, to take them from 
 this world of sin and sorrow, which we must all leave sooner or later ; 
 we should not repine, but rather ask for strength and resignation, to 
 bear up under the affliction, from that source from whence it alone can 
 be received. And, falling upon his knees, that good man prayed long 
 and impressively to the Great Dispenser of all good. 
 
 He then related to William that a rumor had reached the village 
 that he had been slain, which being suddenly told to his mother, 
 affected her to that degree, that she survived the news but one week. 
 His father, also, added the good Pastor, drooped and pined away ; 
 and, two months from the day on which he followed her to the grave, 
 he was himself carried to that bourne from whence none return. 
 
 " The day preceding his death, however," observed the Pastor, " he 
 called me to his bed-side, and gave me his last request, in the following 
 words : 
 
 " Should my brave boy be alive, and return to his native place, tell 
 him I am proud of him ; and that I have heard of his gallant deeds in 
 defence of his country's independence ; tell him not to mourn for his 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 35 
 
 father and mother ; that we were old, and had lived the time allotted 
 to us ; assure him that we died trusting in the blessed hopes held out 
 by the Redeemer to a sinful world ; and tell him that it is my earnest 
 prayer that he will live such a life that he will not fear death. And 
 should he never return, you will find by my will that I have made you 
 my heir.' " 
 
 Mr. Allen concluded by asking William what his intentions were as 
 to the future. 
 
 William replied, that his absence with the army had interrupted his 
 studies to that degree, that he had no hope of recovering the time so 
 lost. Consequently, he felt himself compelled to give up his original 
 design, and seek some other way to pass through life. " For," said he, 
 " I can never enter on the sacred duties of the Church as Pastor, with- 
 out first feeling myself competent to fill that holy office conscientiously." 
 
 Mr. Allen then inquired if he intended still to remain in the army. 
 
 "No, sir. As it has pleased Providence to restore peace once more 
 to my native land, and as the life of a soldier is distasteful to one of 
 my habits, I have resigned ray commission until my country, in some 
 future struggle, shall need my aid." 
 
 His aged friend next asked him if lie had placed his mind upon any 
 occupation which he was desirous of pursuing. 
 
 William replied that he had not as yet arrived at any conclusion. 
 But, at all events, ignorance of the duties appertaining to agriculture, 
 placed the idea of his following the life of a farmer out of the question. 
 
 11 Should it not be trespassing too much upon your kindness, my dear 
 sir, you would do me a great favor if you would dispose of the property 
 left by my father, to the best advantage." 
 
 Mr Allen readily assented ; and added, should the inclination lead 
 him to choose a mercantile life, he had an old friend of the name of 
 Stringham, in New York, who was a merchant, doing an extensive 
 business, to whom he would give him a letter of introduction, which 
 would, he had no doubt, be of service to him. 
 
 William thanked Mr. Allen for his kindness ; and rising, observed 
 that he had a desire to take a ramble through the fields, and view some 
 of the places which had delighted his boyhood days, and which would 
 give his friend an opportunity to prepare the letter ; and obtaining the 
 key of his home, he departed. 
 
 On leaving fche parsonage, Manvers slowly took his wa*y towards the 
 Old House that had given shelter to his infant years : arriving at the 
 door, he opened it and entered. As he went from room to room, 
 Qg the well-known objects, a sigh escaped from him, and he felt 
 a sensation of suffocation so powerful, as the past rose to his memory, 
 that he hastily left the house to gain the open air. 
 
 'Immediately behind the house stood a gentle eminence, from which 
 a view of the surrounding woods could be obtained. William ascended 
 the top, where, seating himself beneath a tree, he gave way to his 
 melancholy thoughts ; it was there, on the very day he departed from 
 home, that his mother had sat beside him, conversing with him, and 
 anxiously informing him of the snares and vices of the city ; and on 
 that spot she had won a promise from him that he f ould use every 
 
36 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 exertion to avoid them ; as those thoughts arose to his memory, he 
 was resolved still to continue to obey her gentle wishes, and strive to 
 follow her advice ; and a tear sprang from his eye and flowed down 
 his cheek, as the thought arose in his mind that he was the last of his 
 race. No father— no mother— no kindred— how lonely he felt : a 
 dark foreboding of the future arose before him, aud he inwardly 
 prayed to the Eternal Ruler of the Universe, that whatsoever trials 
 were placed before him, he might -have strength to bear them. 
 
 He arose, and as the sun was fast sinking in the west, he hastened 
 his steps, and arrived at the parsonage just as Mr. Allen was about 
 to go forth in search of him. 
 
 William remained at the house of his old friend until the following 
 morning, when, on taking his leave, Mr Allen presented him with a 
 letter to Mr. Stringham, adding these few parting words : 
 
 " Give that to the gentleman to whom it is addressed, and tell him, 
 that if the friendship professed by him for John Allen, his old class- 
 mate in early days was not empty words, he will not refuse to comply 
 with the request mentioned in that letter. And, my young friend," 
 continued the good old man, as he wiped away a tear that had risen 
 to his eye, "should the world frown upon your efforts, remember that 
 you have a friend while 1 live." 
 
 William, whose heart was too full of emotion to reply by words, 
 pressed the hand of Mr. Allen, jumped into the wagon that was to 
 convey him from his peaceful abode, and was soon on his way to Xew 
 York. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Mr. Graham was very much annoyed at what he termed the obsti- 
 nacy of Charlotte ; day after day did he expect to see her return to 
 her home, while his pride aud anger deterred him from sending for 
 her. He had been informed by Seten of her whereabout, who endea- 
 vored to keep up the excited feelings of his uncle, by every means in his 
 power. 
 
 As they were seated one evening at their usual game of chess. Mr. 
 Graham appeared nervous, and irritated to a great degree ; he 
 frequently applied himself to a bottle which stood upon the table, from 
 which he took large draughts. 
 
 It was with a look of satisfaction that George Seteu beheld his 
 companion take drink after drink, which evidently began to take effect 
 upon him, as he was not particularly addicted to it. 
 
 Mr. Graham suddenly paused in the game, ami said : " Did you 
 see Charlotte last evening V 1 
 
 " I did, sir,' 1 was the reply. 
 
 " Said she anything concerning any intention, of returning to her 
 home r 
 
 11 She did nc$. sir ; bat young Mauvers frequently calls. He was 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 37 
 
 there yesterday. What would my uncle say, should my fair cousin be 
 united to her lover against his command ?" 
 
 ' : Say," replied Mr. Graham, with an angry voice. " Why, I'd 
 forbid the bans, she is not of age/' 
 
 •' You could not do that, my dear sir ; for, remember you drove her 
 from the protection of your roof, thereby cancelling the obligation of a 
 parent." 
 
 Upon the fact thus being pointed out to him, Mr. Graharn raved 
 with passion, and clenching his hand upon the back of a chair, he 
 hurled it accross the room, muttering " Curse him, curse him," and fell 
 back upon the floor. 
 
 All was bustle and confusion. Seten ordered the domestics to lay 
 him upon a sofa in the back room. A physician was sent for, who, on 
 arriving, informed them, that the disorder of his patient was an attack 
 of the heart-disease, aggravated by violent passions, which, if not 
 avoided, continued the doctor, will most assuredly prove fatal. 
 
 After administering an anodyne, he took his departure, saying, " I 
 will look in in the morning ; but I think he will be around before 
 that." 
 
 Seten sat with his uncle through the night, and was very assiduous 
 in his attentions, which being observed by Mr. Graham, he with a 
 grateful look remarked, that " He hoped Seten would not desert him 
 in his old age, as his ungrateful daughter had done." 
 
 On the following day Mr. Graham was able to assume his place at 
 dinner, but he was required to keep himself very quiet. 
 
 It was evening, in a brilliantly lighted apartment, in the house of 
 Miss Temple were assembled some half-dozen persons, consisting of 
 Miss Temple and her mother, William Manvers, Charlotte, George 
 Seten, and a female cousin of Miss Temple's. A look of expectant 
 anxiety rested on every countenance. 
 
 " I have a fearful foreboding," remarlied Charlotte, " that I am 
 doing wrong, in wedding without the consent of my dear father," and 
 she looked at Mrs. Temple as if for advice. 
 
 That good lady took her tenderly by the hand, " take courage, my 
 dear, by this step, you will rid yourself of a great deal of unnecessary 
 persecution ; and when your father finds that you are irrevocably 
 married,* he will soon forgive, and welcome you home again." 
 
 " I trust it will be so," murmured Charlotte, and she turned to 
 Manvers, and placing her hands in his, " Guide me, dear William, 
 guide me aright. I place my destiny in your hands." 
 
 " Dear Charlotte, I am of the same opinion as Mrs. Temple, I hme 
 no selfish motives. 'Tis not fortune, but your love alone, I crave ; let 
 those that worship the yellow dross seek it ; I look for happiness • 
 alone. Happiness and gold are not always companions. I would not 
 influence you for worlds, to take this step, dearly as I love you, lest 
 at some future time you would upbraid me." 
 
 " Come, come, ray dearest cousin, don't be too fastidious," jocularly 
 remarked Seten, we all know that you, young ladies, are most anxious 
 to get married, yet it takes more time to bring it round than it does 
 
38 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 to found and build an empire. You must not have any more objec- 
 tions, but will join with me, in wishing that the minister may come, 
 for I long to get a bridal kiss. 
 
 This speech from her cousin, drew a general laugh, and the conversa- 
 tion took a livelier turn ; jokes were passed to and fro, with much 
 spirit, so by the time the worthy divine arrived, Charlotte had become 
 more at ease. 
 
 Upon his entrance, he was introduced to Manvers, who was a stranger 
 to him. When quiet was restored, the holy man proceeded with the 
 ceremony, and William Manvers and Charlotte Graham, were made 
 one, by the holy bonds of matrimony. 
 
 It was with a smiling countenance that George Seten greeted the 
 bride and bridegroom ; but his heart beat with joy, at the successful 
 realization of all his wishes. 
 
 On the following day, he was seated with Mr. Graham, when the 
 latter received a letter, which was handed to him by one of the 
 domestics. 
 
 Seten rightly judged from whom it came, and affected to be busily 
 engaged reading a book, which he held in his hand, but at the same 
 time watching the proceedings of his uncle, who had opened and was 
 perusing the note. As his eyes rested upon the first lines, he turned 
 deadly pale, and trembled violently; having read the contents he 
 crumpled the paper in his hand, and threw it in the grate. He arose 
 from his chair, exclaiming, "Forgive her, never !" and retired to his 
 chamber. 
 
 It was night — Mr. Graham lay tossing restlessly upon his bed ' of 
 sickness, to which he had been confined for several days ; he had sent 
 for his lawyer, and had arranged his business with him on the day pre- 
 ceding the night we speak of ; it was after he was left alone, for Mr. 
 Graham was much alone ; that he began to reflect — had he not been 
 too hasty, and as 'thought Succeeded thought, his family pride rose to 
 his view. What was the family pride compared to happiness ? Did 
 not the peer lay as low as the peasant after death ? What were titles 
 and grandeur when consigned to the tomb ? He knew that his daugh- 
 ter loved him clearly, and would not willingly disobey him ; he came to 
 the conclusion, that he had been cruel and unnatural. Instead ^of alone, 
 the fair form of his child would have been flitting around 'his sick 
 couch, ministering to his wants. With these thoughts passing through 
 his brain, he was in the act of summon ing a domestic, for the purpose 
 of sending for Charlotte, when George Seten entered, and took a seat 
 near the couch. 
 
 " My dear nephew, do you not think that I have been too severe 
 with my child V 
 
 Seten looked surprised. 
 
 " I have come to the determination," added Mr. Graham, " to send for 
 her, that I may orgive her and press her to ray heart once more." 
 Seten saw that at one blow all his long-cherished dreams would be 
 frustrated ; now was the time for him io act, and, should occasion 
 require it, desperately. 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 39 
 
 As Mr. Graham was in the act of laying hold of the bell-rope, which 
 hung above his head, his hand was seized by Seten, who cried, " What 
 mean yon, uncle V 
 
 " To have my daughter sent for/' faintly replied Mr. Graham. 
 
 " Xever !" vociferated Seten, who rudely forced the old man back 
 upon the pillow, at the same time placing his hand over his mouth, to 
 prevent his crying out At this moment they were startled by a cry, 
 so unearthly in its sound, that the villain started and trembled, and 
 looked towards the window (which was one of those long-sashed 
 windows, extending to the floor, serving as a door). Seten could see 
 nothing, as the curtain was closely drawn, and turning again to his 
 victim, he beheld only the glazed eye and the rigid muscles of -the face. 
 
 Mr. Graham was a corpse. He had learnt the secret, to attain the 
 knowledge of which, man must pass to eternity. 
 
 When Seten was made aware of the fact, he hastily proceeded to the 
 window, and looked out, but nothing meeting his view, he returned to 
 the bed again, and adjusting the bed-clothing, took- a handkerchief from 
 his pocket, after putting which to his eyes, he rang the bell. 
 
 On the appearance of the servant, he pointed to the bed and 
 retired from the room. 
 
 So violent was the shock that Charlotte received upon hearing of the 
 death of her father, that she never entirely recovered from it. Had 
 she been near him to smoothe his pillow, and wipe the damp, chilly 
 moisture of death from his pallid brow, she would have been more 
 reconciled. To die without giving her his blessing and forgiveness, 
 perhaps, with a curse upon his lip for her disobedience, was more than 
 she could bear. 
 
 She so far recovered as to be able to attend the funeral, where Seten 
 and herself appeared as chief mourners. 
 
 Her friend, Miss Temple, sympathized with her, and tried to cheer 
 her by every means in her power. 
 
 A few days after the death of Mr. Graham, there were assembled in 
 the mansion of the deceased, George Seten, Charlotte Manvers and her 
 husband, the lawyer and witness — it was for the purpose of opening the will. 
 
 After the usual preliminaries, the lawyer proceeded to open and read 
 the last will and testament of the deceased Robert Graham, Esq., in 
 which it was stated, that in consequence of the disobedience of his only 
 child, Charlotte Manvers, in marrying against his will, he had come to 
 the determination to cut her off with a shilling, and declare the only 
 son of his deceased sister, George Seten, his sole heir. 
 
 Manvers and his wife heard the decree in silence. It was not the 
 lost fortune that grieved them ; had they but received the forgiveness of 
 Charlotte's father, they would have been content at the conclusion of 
 the bnsiness that had drawn them together ; they arose to depart: 
 Charlotte's eyes filled with tears, as she cast a glance around the room, 
 which she was about to leave for ever, as the thought arose to her 
 memory, how many happy days she had spent there with her dear 
 parent. .The schemer was alone — the possessor of a princely fortune — 
 was he contented — was he happy ? no! there was an apparent rest- 
 lessness pervading every motion— a guilty eonsciousness of having done 
 
40 THE CHI? BOY 0? THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 \rrong, which it was impossible to drive from his mind. He endeavored 
 to justify himself in his own opinion, by the following reasonings — that 
 the world was generally selfish, each striving to outdo his neighbor ; 
 why not he then follow the same example ; it was the motto of the 
 world to lie and cheat, put on the mask of hypocrisy and inwardly say, 
 that charity begins at home ; why should he not join in and play the 
 game of life with interest ? Such was the man, who was about to 
 become the husband of a young and virtuous girl. What a contrast 
 was there between innocence and vice, pureness of sentiment and 
 deformity of soul. 
 
 William Manve'rs had presented himself to Mr. Stringham, who on 
 reading the letter from his old schoolmate, received the young man 
 kindly, and made many inquiries after the friend of his boyish days. 
 
 During the conversation Mr. Stringham informed William that if he 
 had an inclination to enter into mercantile business, his second clerk 
 had just left to go into business on his own account, which situation 
 was at his disposal. Manvers gladly accepted it, and rented a small 
 convenient dwelling, into which he soon after removed. 
 
 One afternoon, 'twas in the latter part of August, upon one of the 
 seats which was shadowed by a large tree upon the Battery, was seated 
 Louisa Smith, gazing out upon the water, and enjoying the cool breeze. 
 Little Frank was playing near her in the grass. As she sat buried in 
 thought, she was aroused by hearing her child crying papa ; she turned 
 her face in the direction from whence she heard the voice, and beheld 
 George Seten coming towards her in company with a young lady, who 
 was leaning upon his arm ; little Frank was clinging to Seten's hand 
 crying, "Papa, papa." 
 
 •'' I am not your papa, pretty boy," was the reply of Setenj and 
 shaking the child off, they passed on. 
 
 Louisa observed that the lady was very beautiful. For the first time 
 in her life, she keenly felt her position. She heard her child disowned 
 by its father — that father who had so often sworn to do her justice — 
 whom she had never doubted. A dark suspicion took possession of her 
 mind, and watching them until they left the grounds, she followed them 
 until she saw them enter a large dwelling in Whitehall street ; ascer- 
 taining the name of the young lady, and that she resided there, from a 
 domestic, whom she saw come from the house as they* entered, she 
 hastened home. 
 
 On Seten entering his house, a note was handed to him, which he 
 hastily tore open : 'twas from Louisa : the writing gave evident signs 
 that it was written in haste, and that the writer was much agitated ; it 
 breathed the fondest protestation of love, and concluded by saying, 
 
 " Haste, dear Charles ! haste upon the wings of love. I die with 
 inipatiemie. Yours, Louisa." 
 
 Seten foreboded trouble, and seating himself, he commenced ruminat- 
 ing within himself the best method to rid himself of her, as his union 
 with Miss Temple was about to take place. Rising and opening a 
 drawer, he took from thence a bank check and left the house. 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 41 
 
 Louisa sat anxiously awaiting him, dressed in a loose robe of white. 
 Little Frank was seated at her feet. As her gaze rested upon him, a 
 fell upon her cheek ; as she recalled to memory the words that 
 Seteu uttered when denying his child — her child, that she loved so 
 intensely. She turned deadly pale, and gasped for breath, as it 
 recurred to her, that he was dealing falsely with her. She endeavored 
 to drive those thoughts from her mind, and she muttered, " No, no ! 
 he could not be so base ; is he not the father of my child, and is he 
 not about to become the father of another ? No, no ! he loves me too 
 well, to deceive me.'' In the midst of these thoughts, she heard his 
 well-known step upon the stairs. She arose as he entered, and threw 
 herself upon his bosom, sobbing. 
 
 Seten quietly placed her upon a chair, and taking a seat beside her, 
 inquired the cause of her agitation. 
 
 " Charles, dear Charles, a dark suspicion has taken possession of 
 my mind, that you are deceiving me. Why, oh ! why did you deny your 
 boy — your own little Frank, to your companion, in my hearing ? Why 
 ..lake some other reply? Oh ! that the time would come, when 
 you could take me by the hand, and acknowledge me to the world as 
 your wife." 
 
 Observing the abstracted air of Seten, she quickly asked him \ 
 ailed him. 
 
 He coldly replied, " Nothing extraordinary." 
 
 • : Do you not love me longer, dear Charles. Fray, teii me ! No, 
 
 no, do not undeceive me '; rather kill me." And gazing into his eyes, 
 
 with a look .so full of love, so trusting, she exclaimed, " tell me, I am 
 
 iboli.-n, Charles, my own Charles, and that my fears are without 
 
 e." 
 
 Seten took her by the hand, and addressed her as follows : 
 
 •' My dear Louisa, fate wills that we must part. What I am about 
 to relate, I have kept a secret from you, lest it would wound your 
 feelings, hoping that all would be well. My father compels me to 
 marry the young lady you saw in my company to-day. I have long 
 withstood his commands. This morning he sent for me into his 
 library. Upon my entrance, he pointed to a piece of parchment which 
 lay upon the table, and harshly speaking, he said, ' Do you see that, 
 Boy V " 
 
 " I answered in the affirmative." 
 
 '" ' Open it, and look at it.' " 
 
 '' I did as I was desired. It was a will, drawn and prepared for 
 signing, in favor of a cousin, who is my next nearest male relative. 
 My father continued : 
 
 ' : ' I have sent for you, to receive your final determination in regard 
 to ray wishes. Should you comply, you will show your good sense; if 
 to the contrary, in one hour that will is signed, and you are disin- 
 herited." 7 
 
 ' : You may be sure I was greatly perplexed, and knew not what to 
 
 answer. I rapidly thought of our love. On the one hand was 
 
 rty, accompanied with love ; on the other, opulence and indiffe- 
 
 Pondering for a few moments upon both, I came to the con- 
 
42 THE CHIP BOY OF .THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 elusion that my Louisa loved me too well to see me drag out a life of 
 penury. With this idea, I consented to the proposals of my father. 
 Well knowing, by so doing, it would be in my power to provide hand- 
 somely for my Louisa,' 7 
 
 At these words, he placed the bank check in the hand of Louisa, 
 and continued speaking : 
 
 " I have settled an amount equal to that upon you, yearly, which 
 will be sufficient to insure you from want. Did I not do right, my 
 dear V 
 
 And he leaned towards her to kiss her ; but she raised her hand, 
 and put him from her. 
 
 Louisa had sat motionless, and listened to Seten, as he went on 
 informing her what had taken place ; but gradually, as he spoke, a 
 change came over her. She saw r through his duplicity, and long before 
 he had concluded, she had become from the confiding, trusting girl, an 
 injured, revengeful woman. Rising and confronting him with flashing 
 eyes, she said, 
 
 " Charles Grafton, you are a villain ; having used me for your 
 purpose, until becoming tired of me, like a. child's toy, that has been 
 kept too long, you would cast me off, for the sake of another, for the 
 reason that that other is born wealthy j not a poor seamstress ; and 
 you would barter gold for my love ! such love as mine ! I would 
 have sacrificed my soul's salvation to have guarded you from the 
 slightest harm. Take back your money ;" and she threw the cheque 
 into his face. "I give you back vengeance' in the place of my love, 
 which you have so ruthlessly trampled upon. You will yet have to 
 learn the extent of an injured woman's resentment." 
 
 Seten's eyes fell beneath her gaze. The thought flashed through 
 his brain, " Why not rid myself of her at once ?" 
 
 Louisa had taken the boy into her arms, and had retired to the 
 farthest part of the room. Seten advanced to her, and .forcibly tore 
 the child from her ; she endeavored to retain it ; in the struggle, little 
 Frank fell to the floor. While stooping to regain him, Louisa heard a 
 noise resembling the snap of a spring-catch. She arose hurriedly, just 
 in time to avoid a blow aimed at her by Seten, with a dirk pistol 
 (which was so formed that by the touching of a spring the dirk would 
 recede kito a sheath concealed from view). Hence, the noise heard by 
 her. The child was now clinging to her dress and screaming. Seten 
 again advanced upon her, and as he was in the act of burying the 
 blade in her bosom, she threw his hand up, and striking the pistol 
 from his hand ; it fell to the floor. As quick as thought she sprang 
 and seized it, and presented it at Seten, while she gained the door, 
 which she opened. She knew that it would be impossible to get her 
 child, whom Seten had taken by the arms and held before him to cover 
 himself from the shot, should Louisa fire. , 
 
 With the pistol still pointed, Louisa exclaimed, "To shoot you, I 
 risk the life of my child ; but beware of my vengeance, think not to 
 escape it. It will come," 
 
 With these words, she flew rather than ran down the stairs into the 
 street. 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 43 
 
 Seten hastened after her with the child, but when he had gained the 
 pavement in front of the house, he could see nothing of her. He 
 took the child, and hastily walked in the direction of his own dwelling. 
 
 Louisa hastened on towards the lower part of the city, which 
 direction she had taken, occasionally looking back, to see if she was 
 pursued. Her dream recurred to her memory, and she trembled as 
 
 the truth flashed to her mind, how nearly it had been verified 
 
 Pausing to recover breath, she looked around to see where she was 
 Judge of her surprise, when she found that she had stopped in front of 
 the dwelling of Mrs. Temple. She felt that she had been guided by 
 some unseen hand to that house, to warn the fair young creature, who 
 she had seen in the company of Seten, of his villainy. 
 
 With these thoughts, she sprang up the steps, and hastily rang the 
 bell ; the domestic who came to the door, started back at the wild ap- 
 pearance of Louisa, who breathlessly exclaimed, 
 
 " The young lady, Miss Temple, I wish to see her immediately." 
 
 Miss Temple was seated hi the front parlour, and overheard the 
 hurried demand to see herself, she immediately hastened to the door ; 
 upon beholding Louisa she kindly iuvited her in. But the agitated 
 girl refused, saying that she could not do so, at the same time looking 
 along the street, in the darkening distance, dreading pursuit. " Your 
 business with me Miss," asked Elizabeth Temple. 
 
 Louisa vehemently exclaimed, "The young man, I saw you with 
 to-day, upon the battery, beware of him. He is a. villain, a base 
 deceiver. Behold in myself the fruit of his villainy ; a wretched out- 
 cast from sd'eiety, whom he lias made his victim, and would basely 
 desert " Hearing a noise up the street, she said no more nor waited 
 for a reply, but swiftly darting from the steps, she was quickly out of 
 sight. 
 
 When Miss Temple was left alone, she felt her head grow dizzy, 
 and giving a. faint scream, she would have fallen to the floor, had it not 
 been for her mother, who, overhearing the loud voice of Louisa, came 
 into the passage in time to catch her fainting daughter in her arms ; 
 calling for assistance she had Elizabeth conveyed to her own room, 
 where she watched over her with the greatest solicitude. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 We will now pass over a space of intervening years. In the year 
 of 1835 — the time when we again introduce William Manvers to our 
 readers — he is no longer the upright proud young man, walking with an 
 elastic and buoyant step, and showing that daring impress upon his 
 broad and noble forehead, which too plainly told the beholder that he 
 was willing to grapple with the world, in the contest of the battle of 
 life. A change had come over him. He was a widower, he had a 
 long time buried his wife, w T ho died in giving birth to her first born. 
 
 Manvers had entered the establishment of Messrs. Stringham and Co., 
 under the most favourable auspices. He had received the amount for 
 
44 : CHIP EOY OP THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 which his old friend Mr. Allen had sold the property left him by his 
 father, and had placed it in bank at interest, with every prospect of 
 happiness before him he had started in life, to be made doubly miserable 
 by -the loss of that which made existence desirable — his wife. He 
 deeply mourned her loss. His grief was of that kind which does not 
 show itself to the eye, it was hidden within the inmost recesses of the 
 heart. He was an altered man ; whatever he had been in the habit of 
 doing was always done with energy ; now all was done mechanically, 
 like a man that walked in a dream. He would sit for hours of an 
 evening with his daughter upon his knee, gazing into her face, and pic- 
 turing there the features of her he had lost. 
 
 Our old friend Jenny Craigie, had clung faithfully to the fortunes 
 of her young mistress, and at her death she had taken the full 
 responsibility and guidance of the household affairs. No mother could 
 be a more tender nurse than Jenny was to the fragile infant, that had 
 come under her charge. 
 
 Tommy was delighted with it, and never was so well pleased as when 
 his mother would allow him to take it upon his knee, and chirp to it, 
 and call it the bird of paradise ; he would often say to his mother with 
 a mournful look, while a tear would rise into his eye, that his angel 
 had gone to heaven (meaning Charlotte) ; then with a brightening 
 countenance he would say, " she was too good to take all away, that 
 she had left a little angel behind her to cheer them." : 
 
 Mr. Stringham sympathized with Manvers, and tried by every means 
 in his power to raise his drooping spirits, but in vain ; he employed 
 another clerk to make up for the inactivity of William, who thus went 
 on for years until he began co feel some trouble from the effects of his 
 wound which he had received in his country's service ; in time it 
 wholly prevented' him from attending to any business, when he was 
 compelled to draw upon his patrimony, which at the time we re-intro- 
 duce him to our readers, was all expended, principal and interest. 
 He an invalid, showing every sign of a premature old age, brought on 
 by heartfelt trouble. 
 
 He had attended to the education of his daughter himself ; amongst 
 other accomplishments, he had taught her drawing and landscape 
 painting, which she now turned to good account, for she found ready 
 sale for her pictures in most of the print shops, thus mainly contributing 
 the support of the family. 
 
 Mary Manvers had grown up the exact counter part of her mother ; 
 beloved by all who knew her, especially the poor of her neighbourhood, 
 who were indebted to her for many acts of kindness rendered by her to 
 them in sickness. 
 
 She was rather above the middle stature, which when walking gave 
 her an air of majesty, yet so fairy like were her movements, that were 
 it not for her rounded form just budding forth into womanhood, she 
 would have been taken for a child of twelve years of age. She was 
 beatftiful iu the extreme, and few persons gazed upon that fair young 
 creature without admiration. Such was Mary Manvers, at the time 
 we bring her before the reader. The family of Mr. Manvers, at the time 
 we speak of were residing in Eldridge Street, where we will leave them 
 
E CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 45 
 
 for the present, while we endeavour to trace out and see what has be- 
 come of the rest of our characters. 
 
 When Louisa Smith hastened from the steps of Mrs. Temple, she 
 turned the first corner, and taking an uptown or northerly direction, 
 she ran on until she hud placed a considerable distance between herself 
 and the place whence she started ; when finding herself growing* sick 
 and faint, she stopped in front of a moderate-sized dwelling, when 
 timidly ringing the bell she stood awaiting an answer ; to prevent her- 
 self from falling, she grasped the iron railing of the steps, and stood 
 thus, when a pert overdressed young lady opened the door, and with 
 an affected toss of the head, she inquired what was wanted. 
 
 •'For the love of God, give me a shelter, I am weary and sick ; all 
 that I crave is a place to lie down upon, to enable me to regain my 
 strength, to proceed on my way. Oh,' grant me but that request, and 
 may all the blessings that heaven has to bestow, fall to your share.''' 
 
 With another toss of the head, as she closed the door in her face, 
 she exclaimed, " be off about your business, I guess you are no better 
 than you ought to be. ?? 
 
 That young lady, dear reader, was a devout member of the church. 
 Where was her Christian charity ? She did not imitate the teach ._ 
 of Jesus. The poor girl descended from the steps, and tottered on for 
 a few paces, when finding herself sinking to the sidewalk, she, with a 
 great effort, reached a door-step, where she fell fainting. 
 
 She had.not long remained there insensible, when one of the inmate 
 coming to the door, she was kindly taken in and cared for. 
 
 Elizabeth Temple never recovered from the shock she had received 
 from the sudden communication of Louisa. She had loved with her 
 whole soul, and to find that love misplaced, bestowed upon an object 
 unworthy of it, was more than her woman's heart could bear up again.- - . 
 She locked her secret in her own breast, not even disclosing it to her 
 mother ; and as she daily sank, and the rose faded from her cheek, she 
 inwardly prayed that God would take her to Himself. She had no 
 desire to live. She was attended by several medical men, who differed 
 considerably as to the nature of her disease. "When all had been 
 dismissed but the regular family physician, he, with a grave face, pro- 
 nounced her malady consumption, for which he administered the usual 
 remedies, but all his skill was of no avail ; she died of a broken heart, 
 and was regretted by all who knew her. 
 
 When George Seten had parted from Louisa, and arrived at his own 
 dwelling, he placed the child in the care of a domestic, telling her at 
 the same time, to take the best of care of him, and see that he did not 
 w r ant for anything. He again issued into the streets, which he 
 traversed for a considerable length of time, in hopes of meeting with 
 the fugitive girl. 
 
 At length he became tired, and gave up the useless search and 
 returned horne. On the following morning he proceeded to the house 
 of his affianced bride. On his appearing at the door, he was informed 
 that Miss Temple was unwell, so much so, as to be unable to be seen. 
 He requested the servant to inform her that he was at the door, and if 
 it was not/asking too much, he would feel indebted to her, if she would 
 permit him to see her for a moment. 
 
46 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 The servant did as desired, and returned (after keeping him impa- 
 tiently waiting for a long time) with a note, which she placed in his 
 hand, which he opened and read, when he immediately departed. The 
 note contained the following words — 
 
 " I have discovered your baseness. All intercourse must cease 
 between us, from this moment. " Elizabeth." 
 
 As he walked along, he crushed the note convulsively in his clenched 
 hand, grinding his teeth with rage, as the conviction settled itself 
 in his mind, that Louisa had been there and informed Miss Temple of 
 his connection with her. He felt debased, as he thought that he had 
 been turned off as one unworthy, and he well knew that inquiry would 
 be busy, as to the occasion of a rupture between them. He suddenly 
 formed the idea to go and travel. He then arranged his business, and 
 having secured a passage for Europe in one of the packets, he departed, 
 taking little Frank with him. 
 
 He had remained abroad for many years, residing in different coun- 
 tries ; dwelling for a long time in Paris, for the sole purpose of having 
 the education of his son attended to. That youth, growing up in that 
 gay city of frivolity and fashion, had acquired the knowledge of, and 
 become versed in most of its vices. 
 
 About the time that we have now reached in our tale, jSeten had 
 returned to his native city, where, finding most of his former associates 
 dead, or scattered abroad upon the face of the earth, each working out 
 his own future, Seten felt himself a comparative stranger, and time 
 hanging heavy upon his hands, he looked around for something to 
 employ his mind. 
 
 Speculation was rife at the period of which w r e are writing, and he 
 engaged in it. He commenced buying large plots of ground in the 
 upper part of the city, upon which he soon erected several princely 
 mansions. One, more superb than the rest, he had built to suit his 
 own taste, to which he intended shortly to remove his establish- 
 ment. 
 
 As he was walking through one of the by-streets, where he had been 
 to look at a lot, that he was about to purchase, he was startled by 
 a yell, which struck terror to his soul — a yell similar to that uttered 
 upon that night, years gone by, when he grasped his dying uncle by 
 the throat, and threw him back upon the bed from which he never 
 rose. 
 
 Busy scenes in foreign lands had nearly obliterated it from his 
 memory ; it was but the sleeping of conscience reposing in fancied 
 security, ready to be awakened at any time with redoubled force, at the 
 most trivial circumstance. He quickened his pace, as if to avoid some 
 pursuing demon. His former acts arose to his mind with fall force. 
 The scheming villainy which he had used to blind his kind, old uncle, 
 and turn the fond father's heart against his only child, and causing 
 Charlotte's death ; which he thought was probably occasioned by a 
 broken heart. This train of thought brought him to think on Manvers, 
 whom he had inquired concerning, and learned his exact position. The 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 41 
 
 idea took possession of. his mind, that if the cry that had so alarmed 
 him, proceeded from a living witness to his act to Mr. Graham, he, him- 
 self was liable at any time to be arrested, or at least, it would lead to 
 the loss of that fortune, which he held so unjustly. 
 
 To obviate this, could he but effect a union between the families, by 
 uniting his adopted son (as he had given out to the world upon his 
 return that that was the relation in which Frank stood to him), to the 
 daughter of Mr. Manvers, he felt that he would be secure. 
 
 Full of these thoughts, he set himself to work to come to the know- 
 ledge of the residence of Mary's father. A few days after the 
 occurrence that we have mentioned, George Seten appeared at the 
 door in Eldridge street ; upon announcing his name, he was requested 
 to walk into the little parlor in which William Manvers was seated, 
 but so altered, that Seten started back as his eyes fell upon his 
 countenance. 
 
 They sat long, and conversed upon former days, the memory of 
 which drew a tear from William's eye, as the remembrance of her he 
 loved so truly arose to his mind, and George Seten's heart smote him, 
 as it recurred to him how deeply he had wronged him. 
 
 Before his departure, he mentioned the object of his visit, at the same 
 time adding, " That he had always felt uncomfortable upon the account 
 of the manner that Mr. Graham had disposed of his fortune. 
 
 Manvers replied to him in the following manner : 
 
 " Upon the introduction of the young people, should they like each 
 other and form an attachment, he had no objection ; but should his 
 daughter's inclinations be opposed to such a union, he would not 
 enforce nor endeavor to control her will upon such* a delicate point as 
 that which concerned her own happiness.** 
 
 Seten replied that he was contented that matters should take their 
 own course in this proceeding, concluding by saying, that he trusted 
 to his boy for winning his way to the good graces of the lady. Before 
 his departure, it was arranged that a meeting should take place 
 between the parties on the third day from that. 
 
 While we are waiting for that time to arrive, we will introduce 
 the young man to the reader,, who is about to become either the friend 
 or foe of Miss Manvers. 
 
 When Frank Seten returned with his father, he was one of those 
 men whose outward form was calculated to gain the affections of the 
 fair sex, but with a base heart capable of the darkest deeds. His 
 habits were dissipated. He had had several altercations with his 
 father, upon the occasion of his coming home intoxicated. Having 
 been bred in Paris, that city of intrigue and licentiousness, he was a 
 confirmed libertine, with every other bad quality supposablc in such a 
 person ; proud, vain, and revengeful in the extreme. Let this brief 
 notice suffice for the present ; his diabolical character will show itself 
 too plainly to the reader, as we proceed with our tale. He had upon 
 his arrival in the city, sought out a set of companions congenial to his 
 «, with whom he associated. 
 
 Among the number was one, whom he selected for his friend, for the 
 very reason, that, if it were possible, he was a more consummate 
 scoundrel than himself. 
 
43 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 The name of this person was Henry Courtland. His father had 
 died some years previous, leaving him a handsome fortune, which he 
 was running through with as fast as he could by dissipation and extra- 
 vagance. His aged mother yet lived to mourn over the wayward 
 habits of her son, for which she shed many a bitter tear. 
 
 Upon the day that George Seten called upon Manvers, his son and 
 Henry Courtland were in one of those bar-rooms, situated in the 
 neighborhood of the then standing Park Theatre, which was at that 
 time; a great resort of the young men of the upper classes. They 
 had drank freely, and were rather uproarious, on which occasion the 
 bar-tender was trying to induce them to be quiet. 
 
 Frank Seten became offended at some remark which dropped from 
 his lips, and seizing the arm of Harry, he cried, 
 
 " Come, Harry, let's be off ; I'll be if I'll patronize a house 
 
 where its best customers are insulted by an ill-bred lackey." 
 
 The bar-tender was about, to reply angrily, when the proprietor of 
 the house entered, and upon inquiring into the cause of the discussion, 
 he easily arranged the difficulty by apologizing for his man. 
 
 The young men, having become once more in a good humor, called 
 for another drink, and forced the landlord and his bar-tender to join 
 them. 
 
 Having drank, they staggered towards the door. On looking 
 towards Broadway, they observed a young lady advancing from that 
 direction, which would cause her to pass within a few feet of them. 
 They observed that she was beautiful, but her habiliments plainly told 
 them that she belonged to that class in society, which the wealthy 
 young men had formed an idea that they could insult with impunity — 
 the working class. 
 
 Acting upon this, Harry, upon observing her, turned to Frank, and 
 observed, 
 
 " I'll bet you a fifty dollar bill, Frank, you are not game to kiss 
 that pretty girl/' 
 
 " Done," hiccupped Frank ; and placing himself before her, he 
 said, " I presume, Madam, you heard the bet ?" 
 
 "What bet, sir?' 7 
 
 " That between my friend and me.' ; 
 
 The lady, perceiving the situation of him who interrogated her, 
 endeavored to pass them, but she was prevented by Frank, who taking 
 hold of her arm, said, 
 
 " By no means, madam ; I am not going to lose a fifty dollar bill 
 just for a little squeamishness on the part of a foolish girl. So have 
 my kiss I will ; 'prepare your lips." 
 
 As he was in the act of illustrating his words, he received a blow 
 from a powerful hand, which felled him to the earth ; and a young 
 man, dressed in the homely garb of a mechanic, placed his arm in 
 that of the girl's, and walked on, leaving Harry to help his discom- 
 fitted friend out of the gutter, as he best could. When he had 
 obtained an upright position, he inquired of Harry if he thought he 
 could remember the man that knocked him down, so that he might be 
 enabled to demand satisfaction, should he be fortunate enough ever to 
 meet him ajram. 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 49 
 
 Harry's reply was, " Certainly, I took a good look at him." 
 
 Frank now remarked that, as they were pretty well drunk, they 
 
 had better walk around for a while in the air, which would sober 
 
 them. 
 
 " Let us go to Mother Lisle's," cried Harry. "Frank, you've never 
 
 been there ; 'tis a splendid house. I'm acquainted there. I've been 
 
 initiated. She's got a dev'lish pretty daughter." 
 
 " Anywhere, so I can sleep for an hour or two, I feel so sick." 
 The two worthies took their way across the park, and up Broadway, 
 
 on their way the afore-mentioned house, where we will leave them for 
 
 the present, and return to the girl and her protector. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 When the young mechanic, with the girl under his protection, had 
 proceeded, hurriedly, some distance, she tremblingly looked back, and 
 observed to her companion — 
 
 " How fortunate, dear Edward, that you came along so opportune." 
 
 " How came you in that position ?" inquired he. 
 
 She related to him the circumstances, adding — 
 
 " I am sorry that you gave him that blow." 
 
 "It will teach them better than to insult unprotected females in the 
 street," replied he. 
 
 Thus they discoursed, as they proceeded on their way homeward. 
 While they are doing so we will take the liberty to inform the reader 
 who this young man is, that came along and did such good service for 
 the young lady. 
 
 Edward Fay was the son of a ship-carpenter, who was generally 
 beloved by all that knew him for his nobleness of disposition, kind, 
 generous and obliging. Few asked a favor of him, that was refused, 
 if he had it in his power to grant it. But, among adl his good quali- 
 ties, he had one failing — he was his own enemy. He drank deeply at 
 times. 
 
 About three years previous to the time we have introduced his son, 
 who was then an apprentice, and working on the same vessel with his 
 father, the latter, one day, being intoxicated, fell from a scaffolding 
 which was attached to the vessel. His son saw him fall, and hasten- 
 ing down, was horror struck at the" sight that met his view. He had 
 the mangled remains of his dead parent removed to his home. 
 
 His mother fainted, as his corpse was carried into the house. 
 
 When becoming conscious of her bereavement, after several successive 
 
 fits, she observed a young girl kneeling beside her. Her son was 
 
 seated upon a chair, gazing with a wild look and fevered brain upon 
 
 some persons who were arrauging the disfigured body upon a camp 
 
 cot, which had been brought to receive it. Not a tear came to his 
 
 relief, so stunning was the sudden aud fatal accident, that it appeared 
 
 like some horrid dream. 
 
 4 
 
50 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK- 
 
 The girl, in her endeavors to console his mother, arrested his atten- 
 tion by her angelic" voice, as she spoke comfort to his only parent, who 
 was listening to her with deep attention, as she breathed a prayer to 
 the Most High, who alone can give comfort. As she proceeded, with 
 beautiful and touching language, she more and more engaged the 
 attention of the boy, who, at the conclusion, arose and came and 
 kneeled beside her, exclaiming, " pray on, for surely you are some pure 
 angel sent by divine mercy, to breathe comfort to us in our affliction." 
 
 And the fountains of his grief opened, and, laying his head upon his 
 mother's shoulder, he burst into tears, and felt relieved. 
 
 The remains of the poor victim were borne to their last resting-place, 
 and the widowed partner of his griefs and joys, gradually faded and 
 drooped. Then it was that this young girl proved herself a friend. 
 Then it was that Edward's heart was full to overflowing with grati- 
 tude, as her light form flitted around the sick-bed of his mother, with 
 a countenauce expressive of her sympathy, as' she Wiped the cold, 
 damp moisture from the pale brow of the sufferer, or smoothed the 
 pillow that she might lay easier. 'Twas in the midst of this scene of 
 melaucholy duty that those two young persons learned to love. Love ! 
 What meaning — what power, there is in that word. 'Twill urge men 
 on to the most daring, heroic deeds — 'twill control the fate of nations — 
 'twill drive men on, with maddening impulse, to murder and to self-des- 
 truction — 'twill struggle with the intellect, and drive reason from its 
 throne. But such love has a tincture of selfishness attached to it. 
 True love is the atmosphere that angels breathe — 'tis that halo of 
 sunny brightness that shines upon the soul, and lifts it from the depths 
 of despondency, and permits it to soar in a higher and purer sphere — 
 it is a source of magnetism that draws two hearts together, and 
 moulds two wishes into one, and deposits itself upon the altar of eter- 
 nal truth, and there remains, through all time, one of the chief attri- 
 butes of the High and Mighty Ruler of the Universe. 
 
 But, to my story. Some two months after the death of Edward's 
 father, just at the close of a beautiful day, those two young people 
 were standing beside the couch, upon which lay the dying form of Mrs. 
 Fay. As they Stood eagerly watching the fast-fading eye, and the con- 
 vulsive efforts t to still retain the breath — as if still clinging with a 
 tenacious energy to life — she, with superhuman streugth, raised herself 
 to a sitting posture, and seized the hands of Edward and Mary, and 
 clasping them together, fell back upon the pillow lifeless. Edward's 
 eyes met those of her he loved, and there he received an answer to his 
 mother's last wish. He leant his Jiead upon her shoulder, and wept. 
 
 Having laid her beside his departed father, time gradually softened 
 his grief, cheered by the smile of Mary Manvers, whose father made 
 him a welcome visitor at his house. He surmised that they loved ; 
 but, as they had spoken nothing to him upon the subject, he had 
 remained a silent spectator. Upon their arrival, Mr. Manvers shook 
 Edward warmly by the hand. The reader has, no doubt, identified 
 the young mechanic and the young girl, with Edward Fay and Mary 
 MunVcrs, who had both agreed to say nothing to her father, concern- 
 ing the insult she had received, they being unwilling to cause him any 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 51 
 
 unnecessary agitation. Edward declined the pressing invitation to 
 enter, saying, that he would call in the evening, and took his way to 
 the house where he boarded, which was near at hand. 
 
 Reader, we are about to introduce you into the private room of 
 a female. That female is the far-famed Mrs. Lisle, who was so noto- 
 rious during the period that we write of, amongst the fashionable 
 young men about town. There are two persons in the room — mother 
 and daughter. The former, although advanced in years, was still beau- 
 tiful, but the frequent use of ardent spirits had begun its work of des- 
 truction. 
 
 The latter was 'a lovely girl of eighteen, moulded in beauty's choicest 
 fashion ; few surpassed her in loveliness. Many had sought to ingra- 
 tiate themselves in her good graces, but she had seen none yet who 
 had made the least impression upon her. They were conversing upon 
 some indifferent subject, the daughter looking upon the pages of a 
 book, which she held in her hand, when they were startled by a violent 
 ringing of the door-bell. Mrs. Lisle started to her feet, and hastened 
 to see what was the matter. When she arrived in the hall, she beheld 
 two young men, greatly intoxicated, endeavoring to force their way 
 into the house, contrary to the wishes of the girl, whose duty it was to 
 admit all visitors. One of them she knew, for he had often called. 
 Him she scarcely noticed, but her gaze was riveted upon the counte- 
 nance of the other. There was something in that look, as it met hers, 
 that caused the blood to recede from her heart ; an undefined feeling- 
 took possession of her, for which she could not account. Coming to 
 the girl, she directed her to admit them. She then spoke to the girl in 
 an under tone — " take the stranger to my private room." And, stop- 
 ping at the door of the common sitting-room, she cried — 
 
 " Laura, here's Harry. I wish you would take care of him !" 
 
 When, proceeding to her own apartment, she — assisted by her 
 daughter and the girl — deposited the helpless form of Frank Seten 
 upon a richly-embroidered sofa. 
 
 This being accomplished, the girl departed, and the daughter stood 
 gazing upon the face of Frank, with looks of admiration. She mut- 
 tered in a low tone, " He is really handsome." 
 
 She was overheard by her mother, who took her by the hand and 
 led her to the door, saying, " You had better retire to your own room, 
 my love, until this young man gets a little rest, and goes away, for it 
 is no place for a young lady to be." 
 
 The girl, whose name was Eveleen, did as she was desired, looking 
 I lack as she left the apartment. When left alone, Mrs. Lisle took a 
 chair, and sat scanning the features of the sleeping man. She could 
 not account for the interest she felt in him. It recalled to her memory 
 her early wrongs. Thought crowded on thought, and as the insidious 
 arts, with which her vile seducer succeeded in accomplishing her ruin, 
 rushed upon her mind, she took a pistol from the folds of her dress, 
 and touching a spring, a. dagger started from ita hidden recess; its 
 polished brightness reflected back the light and formed itself in the 
 shape of a heart, which shone full upon the countenance of the young 
 man. She gazed upon it in wonder, taking it for an omen that he 
 
52 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 would co-operate in her obtaining her long* desired revenge, she 
 uttered in a low voice, " His hour will come. 7 ' 
 
 While those thoughts were passing through her brain, Frank, who 
 had awakened, and seeing a pistol within a foot of his head, started to 
 his feet, bewildered, crying, " What ! would you murder me ?" then, 
 hurriedly looking around, he continued, " Where am I?" 
 
 Mrs. Lisle, laying her hand upon his arm, said, "Be seated I pray, 
 there is no harm intended to you." 
 
 M What means that pistol V* inquired Frank, again taking his 
 seat. 
 
 "There is a certain something in your look that recalled occur- 
 rences which happened long years gone by, wherein a poor silly girl 
 .was imposed upon and deluded from the path of rectitude, whereby 
 her ruin was accomplished by a villain. But the injuries of that lost 
 girl (lost to virtue), burn as fresh at her heart, and the desire for 
 revenge is as strong, as it was the hour when she discovered his 
 baseness.' 7 
 
 " That girl is yourself ?" queried Frank. 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " By Heavens ! he must be a villain who would do so dastardly 
 an act. Pray, what was the name of your seducer, if I may make 
 so bold ?" 
 
 " Grafton, Charles Grafton." 
 
 " Grafton, Grafton, I do not think that I ever have known a person 
 by that name," replied Frank. 
 
 " Then, I am mistaken ; but tell me who was your father." 
 
 " I never knew my father. He died abroad while in my infancy, I 
 being adopted by a friend of his, by the name of Hastings," said 
 Frank, with his usual duplicity. " George Hastings, at your service." 
 
 " Would that you would be at my service, and assist me to obtain 
 the cherished desire of my life, that which is consuming me daily with 
 its fires." 
 
 " Pray, what is that, madam," asked Frank ? 
 
 " Revenge," cried Mrs. Lisle, nervously grasping the pistol, and 
 shaking it. 
 
 11 By Heavens, I will do all in my power to enable you to attain it," 
 said Frank. 
 
 11 Say you so. Then let us swear to aid each other, and form a 
 compact/ whereby one can call upon the other for assistance to subdue 
 our enemies." 
 
 Frank paused to reflect for a moment, when the thought occurred 
 to him, that this woman might, at some future time, be of use to him, 
 and coming to the conclusion to consent to her proposition, he cried, 
 " Agreed." 
 
 " You are willing V replied she. 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " Then swear upon this pistol, with me, to aid each other, when 
 called upon." 
 
 Then, holding the pistol up, they both cried, "I swear," in the 
 same breath. 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 53 
 
 She then deposited the weapon in its hiding-place, where it had been 
 worn for years, ready for the destruction of her victim, should he by 
 chance be thrown in her way. Then addressing Frank — 
 
 " Remember the name, Grafton. Should you be fortunate enough 
 to meet with auy person answering to it, acquaint me with the same. 
 In the meantime finish your nap, from which I disturbed you. You 
 are safe in this room ; none dare enter here without my bidding." 
 
 Thus saying, she left the apartment, closing the door after her. 
 
 Frank lay down again, and laughingly observed, M How easy 'tis to 
 gull a woman. She thinks now, that she has enlisted a powerful ally 
 in her cause. Well — well, I always have thought, and think still, that 
 women were made expressly, to have the wool pulled over their eyes," 
 saying this, he composed himself for a comfortable sleep. 
 
 He had not long lain quietly there, when he observed the door slowly 
 open, and a female form stealthily enter. 'Twas Evcleen, • who 'had 
 observed her mother pass down the stairway, when she left her room, 
 and entered that in which Frank Seten lay. 
 
 Upon her entrance, Frank lay still, pretending to be asleep, intending 
 to watch her proceedings. 
 
 Eveleen advanced to where he lay, gazing upon his face with admir- 
 ing looks. She gently touched his cheek with her w r hite hand, " How 
 soft and delicate," she murmured, and looking around to assure herself 
 that she was unobserved, she inclined her beautiful form forward, until 
 her face was on a level with his, and lightly touching his cheek with 
 her lips, she hastily stole from them a kiss. 
 
 Frank sprang up, and seizing her by the hand cried, " Am I already 
 in Paradise, or why am I permitted to gaze on such loveliness for a 
 moment, and then have it torn for ever from my sight ?" 
 
 11 Hush !" cried Eveleen, " ray mother may hear you." 
 
 " By heavens !" continued Frank, " I could dwell in a wilderness, far 
 from the haunts of men, contented, had I but one fair being such as 
 thee, to share my loneliness. I feel a fluttering around my heart, such 
 as I never felt before in the presence of a woman. Can it be love, if 
 so, wilt thou exchange it for thine, gentle girl ?" 
 
 " Willingly would I do so, but a harder fate is mine." 
 
 " Say not so ; pray explain," cried Frank. 
 
 Eveleen hurriedly related to him, that early in life her mother had 
 been deserted by her destroyer, and left upon the streets without a 
 shelter. That she had been aided by a gentleman, who had proved her 
 friend hitherto ; it w r as to his bounty that she owed the means to keep 
 the establishment, iu which they were at the present moment, and I am 
 to be the reward which he claims at the hands of my mother. He is 
 old and married, with a family of grown up children ; were he young 
 and single, I would not feel that repugnance which causes me always 
 to shudder, when he approaches me. Oh ! how I detest him. 
 
 " It shall not be. Say pretty one, will you be mine ?" cried Frank, 
 11 if you will, I will rob the toothless old dotard, and save a mother 
 the committing of a. crime, unequalled at the present day in brutality, 
 that of sacrificing the virtue of her child for gold ; ugh ! the thought 
 makes me sick. When claims he his reward ?" 
 
54 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 " I know not," replied she. 
 
 " Say, dearest," said Frank, gently placing her upon the sofa beside 
 him, " can you love me ?" 
 
 Eveleen replied blushing, " I already love you, sir, and willingly 
 would I link my fate with yours, were I permitted. But I fear it 
 cannot be." 
 
 " By heavens it can and will ! it remains with yourself ; here take 
 this card, my name is upon it. The name that I gave your mother 
 was a fictitious one ; whenever I call address me by the name of 
 George Hastings. Should you have occasion, fly to me. I never saw 
 a woman before, that I could feel the tender passion of love for. As 
 soon as I can arrange matters, I will make you my wife, and take you 
 from this den of iniquity," Frank concluded, by imprinting a kiss upon 
 her fait brow. Then added, " You had better depart, lest your mother 
 observing us together, may mar our plan." 
 
 Eveleen did as she was desired, leaving Frank once more alone, who 
 threw himself upon the sofa, his thoughts full of the beautiful girl who 
 had just left him. He thus reasoned with himself : should my father 
 place any obstacle in the way, or show any opposition to my marrying 
 this fair creature, I have wit enough to surmount every difficulty, and 
 accomplish my end. What an angel of beauty ! he murmured, and he 
 fell into a doze, dreaming of her, from which he was aroused by Mrs. 
 Lisle, who came to inform him that his companion was in the parlor 
 awaiting him. 
 
 He sprang from the sofa, and descended to the room below in her 
 company. Upon his entrance he was accosted by Courtland, who 
 informed him, that he was appointed as a committee of one by the girls, 
 to acquaint him, that as this was his first visit to the house (he, Frank),- 
 being a stranger, it was his unpleasant duty to tell him that he must 
 pay his footing. 
 
 This speech was received with a burst of laughter by all present. 
 
 Frank willingly complied, and calling for champagne, his health was 
 drank by all ; when taking Harry by the arm, they left the room and 
 entered the hall where they encountered the landlady, who whispered 
 in Frank's ear as he passed close to her — " Remember the oath." They 
 then left the house. 
 
 Upon the day appointed for the meeting of the young couple, Mr. 
 Manvers was seated with his daughter, in the little parlour in 
 Eldridge Street, awaiting the arrival of their guests. Mr, Manvers 
 had acquainted Mary with what had taken place concerning her, in 
 reference to Frank. She had candidly informed her father of her love 
 for the young ship carpenter, meeting no opposition to her wishes, 
 on the contrary, her choice was applauded by her parent, who informed 
 Mary that he had great faith in her judgment, but at the same time say- 
 ing that Edward Fay was a noble young man. 
 
 George Seten and his son soon arrived ; upon entering the parlour, 
 Manvers and Mary arose to receive them ; what was the confusion of 
 Frank, to behold in Mary Manvers the young lady who he had so 
 grossly insulted in the street, a few days previous. He stammered 
 something unintelligible about a mistake, when Mary looking at him 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 55 
 
 with contempt exclaimed, " we have met before sir," and sweeping 
 haughtily past him, left the room. 
 
 George Seten looked at his son and inquired the meaning, who told him 
 that he would inform him* at another time ; they soon took their depar- 
 ture and left the house. On their way homeward, Frank informed his 
 father the cause of Miss Manvers' behaviour towards him. 
 
 George Seten appeared nervous, starting at every noise which sud- 
 denly came to his ear ; ever and anon, looking back as if dreading pur- 
 suit. His strange conduct attracted the attention of his son, who 
 inquired what was the matter with him. 
 
 " Frank, if you only knew how much was at stake, by your causing 
 this rupture with the Manvers family, and the breaking o£f of the 
 match between you and the daughter, you would not wonder at my 
 agitation." 
 
 From that day Seten was an altered man, he seldom left his own 
 house ; when he did, his strange conduct was noticed by all who met 
 him. He had began to feel the punishment due to his crimes, which 
 will sooner or later come upon all who step from the path of honor to 
 attain their objects in this world. 
 
 Cut off from the only hope of security, he was in continual dread. 
 How bitterly did he repent of his villainy to Mr. Graham and his 
 daughter, and a shudder ran through his frame as he thought of the 
 death of the former. We will leave him for the present fighting that 
 terrible battle of conscience, with the dread of the future rising con- 
 tinually before him, searing his brain with its burning fires, and making 
 a hell on earth. 
 
56 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 As the winter passed away the health of Mr. Manvers rapidly gave 
 way ; he was so far gone at the commencement of spring, that he was un- 
 able to rise in his bed without assistance ; Jenny, the faithfal Jenny, 
 tended upon him with all the care of a mother, relieving Mary in her 
 watch upon the sufferer. The malady of Tommy had grown upon him as 
 he grew in years, he became more idiotic and simple, yet particularly 
 harmless, with the exception of his ' tricks upon the boys of his 
 neighborhood, to whom he was a terror — they termed him the Crazy 
 Man. He would absent himself for days from his home without causing 
 any uneasiness to his friends, who saw it was useless to endeavour to 
 control him in his waywardness, and finding that no harm came to him, 
 they had come to the conclusion to let him have his own way. 
 
 One afternoon, in the beginning of spring, the sun was shining brightly 
 in at the window ; Mary Manvers stood with Edward beside the bed 
 of her dying father ; on the opposite side was standing Jenny Craigie, 
 moaniug piteously. 
 
 Mr. Manvers with great effort addressed her in the following words, 
 " Faithful woman, do not mourn for me, we must all submit to the 
 decrees of Him who rules us all ; you have done your duty to me and 
 mine, and may you receive your reward for it on High. 
 
 " Edward, to you, and you too, my daughter, I leave the duty of pro- 
 tecting this faithful person, as old age advances upon her, rendering her 
 incapable of braving the storms of this life. 77 And placing the hand of 
 his daughter in that of Edward, he continued, " I would say a word to 
 you ; let not my death prevent your union from taking place at the 
 time appointed, for you will be alone in the world, all and all to each 
 other. Society in its busy round of cares and pleasure, has but little 
 time to sympathise with the lonely mourner. Seek not, nor trust not too 
 much upon obtaining real happiness upon this earth ; that alone can be 
 obtained in heaven, all other is but vanity, and will fade away as the 
 setting sun will vauish from the sight behind some hill, leaving the 
 world more dark and dreary. I find my — myself grow weaker — a dim 
 hazy shadow — comes before — my eyes, — farewell — farewell — all ; God 
 bless you all. 77 
 
 William Manvers' was no more ; grief, heartfelt grief reigned in the 
 hearts of all present ; such grief as buries itself in secret, to mourn 
 unobserved by the rude gaze of the world ; such grief as we will respect 
 and leave in its loneliness to be subdued alone by time. 
 
 We will pass over a space of some two weeks. Miss Manvers sat 
 leaning her head upon her hand in a pensive attitude, gazing upon 
 vacancy. She was in deep mourning, her face was very pale, a tear 
 
THE CHTP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 57 
 
 drop stood upon her cheek, which gave evident signs that she had 
 recently been weeping. Stern must be the heart of the person that 
 could look upon that fair countenance without feeling a touch of 
 sympathy. So sad, so dejected was that face, it too plainly told that 
 grief had early touched her young heart. She was aroused from her 
 re very by a knock at the door; she started and rose to her feet, when 
 Tommy Craigie entered ; he had several toys in his hand, amongst 
 which was one of those artificial snakes composed of wire springs, 
 covered with canvass and painted, showing the fangs and eyes of a 
 bright red color, giving it an appearance so lifelike, that at first sight, 
 it would startle the beholder. 
 
 As he entered, he was singing the following lines from an old 
 ballad : — 
 
 " A famous man was Robin Hood, 
 The English ballad-singers' joy ; 
 But Scotland boasts a thief as good. 
 She has, she has a Tommy boy.--* 
 
 As he concluded, he took a tin horn from under his arm, and putting 
 it to his lips, he blew loudly, at the same time marching around the 
 room. 
 
 " Tommy, Tommy, do cease your untimely mirth ; my head aches 
 violently/' said Miss Manvers. 
 
 Tommy paused immediately in front of her, and gazing with a 
 sorrowful look into her face, said, "Did I annoy my bird of Paradise ? 
 well, crazy Tom won't do so any more." 
 
 " Where did you get those things ?" asked Mary. , 
 
 " I've been speculating." 
 
 " Been speculating ; Tommy, what mean you V 
 
 '• There is a parcel of boys, who are always playing over there by 
 that open lot. Whenever I go by them they throw stones at me, and 
 call me hard names. As I was coming past them, a little while ago, 
 1 saw them all sitting down close together ; I came softly up to them, 
 and saw what they were at. Now what do you think they were 
 at ?" 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know," was the reply. 
 
 11 Don't know ! well I will tell you — they were gambling." 
 
 " Gambling !" 
 
 ** Gambling ! wasn't that horrid ?" 
 
 " Indeed it was, to commence the vices of life at such an early 
 age." 
 
 " I thought so too, and I being of a speculative turn of mind, as I 
 stood watching them, I thought that such habits would lead them to 
 the gallows, so I pounced upon them and seized these things, and ran 
 away ; wasn't that a good speculation ?" 
 
 " What were they gambling with, Tommy ?" 
 
 " Pushing pins, ma'am." 
 
 " Oh ! fie, Tommy." 
 
 At this moment a knock was again heard at the door. 
 
58 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 " See who is at the door : and then go and return to the little boys 
 their playthings/' said Mary. 
 
 Tommy started sullenly 'to obey her orders. Miss Manvers again 
 resumed her seat. Tommy soon returned; approaching his mistress, 
 and bowing profoundly he said, 
 
 " His cloven-footed majesty, Mr. Satan, desires admittance."' 
 
 " What ! whom do you mean P exclaimed the young lady. 
 
 " Why, I mean that Mr. Seten desires to see you." 
 
 " Admit him." 
 
 Tommy, obeying the orders that he had received, ushered Mr. 
 Frank Seten into the room. 
 
 Miss Manvers rose at his entrance, coldly requesting him to be 
 seated, at the same time bidding Tommy to leave the room. 
 
 As the idiot was about to depart, he looked back ; and, seeing that 
 he was not observed, adroitly slipped behind a large book-case, 
 which entirely concealed him from view. 
 
 " To what am I indebted for the honor of this visit ?" asked Miss 
 Manvers. 
 
 " Can you ask, my dear young lady, when you well know how long I 
 have loved you, your friendless situation has induced me to offer you 
 my hand and heart, hoping that my offer will be accepted, and by 
 so doing, make me the happiest of men." 
 
 " Rather say, sir, that my friendless situation has emboldened you 
 to insult me. I would not listen to your overtures nor favor your 
 suit during the life of my father, nor will I now. I am not as friend- 
 less as you suppose." 
 
 Frank Seten hit his lip, and observed, " You have some other 
 suitor, perchance. May I make so bold as to inquire who the favored 
 lover is ?" 
 
 "Insulting," remarked Mary, and she turned and gazed from the 
 window, as if determined to hold no farther converse with him ; but 
 suddenly altering her mind, she turned and confronted him ; she 
 added, 
 
 " I will be candid with you, hoping that it will prevent any further 
 discussion upon a subject that is displeasing to me. I do love another, 
 one whose nobleness of heart the proudest maiden of the land might 
 be honored in aspiring to love. That other is Edward Fay." 
 
 " Ha ! the man I hate and detest the most on earth," he muttered 
 in a low tone. Then, speaking aloud, he continued, "And will the 
 beautiful and gifted Miss Manvers, who is formed to grace the highest 
 circles and be the very leader of fashion, coolly and deliberately cast 
 wealth, grandeur, and admiration from her, to dwell in obscurity with 
 a base-born mechanic ?" 
 
 Mary Manvers arose, her countenance glowing with wounded pride 
 and indignation, she approached one step towards him, and made the 
 following reply : 
 
 " He is not base-born, sir ; his ancestors died upon the battle field 
 contending for freedom^ rights. An honest working-man, a mechanic, 
 is stamped with that true patent of nobility that is given by the great 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 59 
 
 Architect of Xature. He is a source of wealth to his country. 
 Behold our railroads, our public buildings, our noble shipping, which 
 are the envy of the world. Could these have been achieved without 
 him. Wheree'er the star-spangled banner is seen to wave o'er this 
 great continent, or the cry of liberty is heard by the people of ©ur 
 couutry, there is the working-man seen foremost in the rauks, ready to 
 maintain her rights or advance her trade. Should dread war once 
 more hover o'er our land, with its ravaging blight, our young mecha- 
 nics would' be the first to rush forth to the scene of action, and show 
 the daring foe that they were ready to stand up in defence of their 
 homes and firesides, and fight as bravely as those heroes did at 
 Bunker Hill and Yorktown, where the brave Warren fell, and the 
 immortal Washington nobly stood forth in a nation's cause, and per- 
 formed those deeds which covered him with laurels, leaving a bright 
 example, that will remain in the hearts of his countrymen, until time 
 be no more. . What though he be despised, as he returns from his 
 daily toil, by the purse-proud man of wealth ; that man with all his 
 gold has never experienced one particle of pleasure equal to that 
 which glows within the workman's bosom, as he enters his humble 
 home, to be met by a beloved mother, a smiling wife, his pratlers 
 clinging to him, each anxious to be kissed in turn; his heart expands, 
 as the feeling comes o'er him, that he is a useful member of society, 
 and a prayer rises to his lips in humble thanks to the Great Creator, 
 for giving him strength to do his duty. Leave me, sir, I wish to be 
 alone." 
 
 How noble did that fair creature appear, as with heightened color 
 and extended arm she boldly defended her absent lover. 
 
 Frank Setcn arose, and was about to reply, when our friend Tommy, 
 who had left his place of concealment, approached him, and, putting 
 the horn to his ear, "blew a sudden blast. 
 
 Seten started, and turning, was horrified at beholding a serpent, 
 with its glaring eyes, within a few inches of his head. He retreated 
 towards the door ; but, on discovering that he had been tricked by an 
 idiot, he cast a withering glance of hate at him. Then, turning to 
 Mary, with a countenance portraying the demoniacal rage that boiled 
 within, he uttered the word, " beware," and hastily left the house. 
 
 Tommy danced and capered around the room, highly delighted with 
 his little stratagem. Miss Manvers sank into a chair, scarcely able to 
 suppress a smile, at the fright of her persecutor and the antics of 
 Tommy. 
 
 At this juncture, the door again opened suddenly, and Jennie 
 Craigie entered the room, with a basket on her arm. Grazing first at 
 her mistress, then at. her son, hastily pulling her shoe from her foot, 
 she ran at Tommy, belaboring him over the head and shoulders, at the 
 same time, exclaiming — 
 
 11 Ma certie, I canna gang frae the house yene minit, but yer play- 
 ing some o' yer deevil's tricks, and disturbing your young leddy." 
 
 Tommy, who was under great fear of his parent, made for the door, 
 through which he hastily made his escape. 
 
60 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 Jenny turned to her mistress, and, replacing her shoe in its proper 
 place, inquired of her what pranks he had been playing on her, 
 adding — 
 
 " Ye must na' mind him, my leddy, for he is beside himself at times." 
 
 " Dear nurse, you are laboring under a slight mistake. Tommy has 
 rendered me a particular service, — he has relieved me of a troublesome 
 visitor. But how did you succeed on your errand?" 
 
 " Not vaery weel, leddy. Mr. Brown complained very much o' the 
 bit wark, but, after a deal of grumbling, he paid me. But> he told 
 me to tell ye, that he wad na' want na' more 'til next week. I called 
 in a deal o' shops, but could get nothing promised afore next time." 
 
 " Oh, and will I be idle until then?" exclaimed Miss Man vers. 
 " What will become of us ?" 
 
 " Dinna fear, my leddy," cried Jenuy. " I ha' been thinking that 
 ye' wark too hard for us a', and ye 1 must remember, that I am strong, 
 an# have nothing to do, but take care o' the house, and ye' see if yer' 
 leddyship wad allow me, I could turn a penny by taking some wash- 
 ing, or something o' that kind ye see." 
 
 The faithful Jenny was' interrupted in her plans by the entrance of 
 Edward Fay. 
 
 Approaching Mary, who rose and warmly welcomed him, he drew 
 a chair, and they both seated themselves — Edward still retaining her 
 hand in his, at the same time nodding to Jenny, and kindly asked after 
 her health. 
 
 " I'm vaery weel, wi' the blessings o' God, Master Edward," and, 
 courtesying, she left the room, thinking, perhaps, that there was one 
 too many present. 
 
 Let us follow her example, dear reader, aud leave them to converse 
 with that freedom in which lovers can indulge best in private. 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 61 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 When young Seten left the house of Miss Manvers, he proceeded 
 homeward, bursting with rage, and forming in his mind some plan of 
 revenge. When within a few paces of his own residence he was 
 accosted by a boy who appeared to have been watching for him. The 
 boy inquired if his name was Hastings. Frank nodded assent. " Here 
 is a note for you, sir, which Mr. Biglow the druggist, gave me to 
 bring to you." Frank received it, and gave the boy a trifle, who ran 
 off. Seten had arranged with the aforementioned gentleman to receive 
 any letters that should be left at his store, addressed to him under the 
 assumed name of Hastings, and have them forwarded to him. On 
 perusing the note, he paused for a moment, and muttering, in a low 
 tone, " I suppose I must see her," — changed the direction -in which he 
 was walking, and took his way to Lispenard street. During the win- 
 ter, the Seten family had removed to Bond street, that world of 
 fashion. Their new building having been .completed, George Seten 
 became more morose and nervous, never leaving the house except by 
 night, when he would ramble through the streets, peering into the faces 
 of the passers-by, as if in search of some particular person. 
 
 On the evening previous to that on which we again bring him before 
 our readers, as he was passing through Broadway, in the neighborhood 
 of White street — 'twas near the hour of eleven — the night being dark 
 and rather chilly, few people were abroad — he was confronted by a 
 female, closely muffled in a wrapper, who presenting a pistol at his 
 head, exclaiming — " We have met at last," fired at him, and darted 
 down White street, and was soon lost in the darkness. Old Seten fell 
 to the ground, slightly wounded. Owing to the agitation of the woman, 
 or the darkness of the night, the intended shot did not take effect — 
 it merely grazed his shoulder, making a slight incision in the flesh. On 
 finding himself but little injured, he rose from the sidewalk, and looked 
 around, but not a living object met his view. He shuddered at his 
 narrow escape, and hastily took his way homeward, in a state of agita- 
 tion bordering on insanity. Before arriving at his residence, his whole 
 evil life had risen before him. Each person that he had wronged had 
 passed before his sight in panoramic view, with some instrument of 
 destruction ready to hurl at him, and breathing vengeance upon him. 
 lie, upon conjecturing in his mind who the woman could be who had 
 attempted his life, came to the conclusion, that, if the girl lived whom 
 he had so deeply injured early in life, it could be no other than she. 
 There, thought he, is another enemy to dread, who might way-lay and 
 pounce upon me at any moment. Whom could he trust ? He feared 
 all. And, as he arrived at his own door, his guilty mind had come to 
 
62 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 the conclusion, to keep secret the occurrence, lest it would lead to 
 inquiry ; for, a guilty conscience makes cowards of the stoutest and 
 boldest hearts. 
 
 The female had paused for an instant witkin the darkness of an arch, 
 for the purpose of witnessing the effect of her shot. As she saw him 
 rise and depart, she muttered — " Curses on him ! he has escaped me 
 this time, but I will not be foiled in my revenge. I will yet make him 
 bite the dust, and trample upon his accursed carcase f and she rapidly 
 departed, to avoid some intoxicated young men, who were coming up 
 the street, singing. 
 
 When young Seten rang the bell at the door of Mrs. Lisle, in Lis- 
 penard street, he was received by that personage herself, who 
 appeared greatly agitated. She bade him follow her, and conducted 
 him to her private room. When they were seated, she exclaimed — 
 
 " I have seen him, George. I have seen him !" 
 
 " Who Y' cried Seten. 
 
 " Charles Grafton, the accursed wretch ! I went Out last evening, 
 upon some business of a private nature. As I was returning home, at 
 a late hour, I observed a man passing up the street immediately in 
 front of me, whose strange behaviour attracted my attention. I has- 
 tened my pace, and, passing a-head of him, turning to observe his 
 countenance, I saw by the light of a lamp, which cast its rays upon his 
 figure, the hated face of. my destroyer. With what a savage delight I 
 grasped my long-hidden treasure, and drew it from the folds of my 
 dress. Gazing around, I saw that the streets were deserted. I fired 
 upon him — he fell. Darting down one of the dark streets, I paused 
 and looked back. I observed him rise, and make his way from the 
 spot. I cursed myself for my failure, and hastened home. But now 
 that I am certain that he lives, and is dwelling in the same city with 
 myself, I will not rest till I work his destruction. " 
 
 Her countenance appeared hideous to Frank, as she, in her rage and 
 hate, breathed curses upon him she would slay. 
 
 " He lives in this city, and by our compact, you are bound to 
 aid me." 
 
 " Would you have me murder him Y f asked Frank. 
 
 " No ; . that would be robbing me of my revenge. I would do that 
 with mine own hand, and witness the agonized writhings of his polluted 
 form, as it lay weltering in his evil blood. I'd place my foot upon his 
 body and crush it, as his depraved and deformed soul took its flight 
 down to the receptacle, that has been formed by a just God, to punish 
 such as he. I would have you trace him out, acquaint me of his 
 whereabouts. I wish to know his residence, that I may watch for him 
 and dog his footsteps, so that when an opportunity may occur, I may 
 fulfil my long-cherished desire." 
 
 As she concluded, she approached a side-board, and pouring out a 
 glass of brandy from a decanter that was standing upon it, drank it off, 
 at the same time, inviting Frank to partake, who declined. 
 
 When she had again seated herself, Frank asked where Eveleen was. 
 
 Mrs. Lisle informed him, that she had gone out to purchase some 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 63 
 
 few articles, of which she stood in need, and had not yet returned. 
 Frank promised to comply with her wishes, and soon took his departure. 
 
 Upon his arrival home, he sought out his father, and seating himself 
 near him, he addressed him in the following strain. ** My dear father — 
 since by your adopting me, you have given me the right to address you 
 by that title — I have endeavored through life, hitherto, to obey your 
 wishes. Some few months previous, one day while lecturing me upon 
 my loose habits, you mentioned' that you would have me marry and 
 become settled ; you desired me to form an alliance with Miss Manvers, 
 but that, as you know, fell through ; I am now ready and willing 
 to fulfill your wishes ; I have found a lady, who I think, .has it in her 
 power to make me happy." 
 
 11 Who is the fair one ?" inquired his father. 
 
 " Some few weeks since," replied Frank, " I became acquainted with 
 her, when being in her company one evening, she informed me that she 
 was shortly to be married, but that it was against her will, her 
 intended bridegroom being many years her senior, but that her only 
 parent, her mother, compelled her to wed him, on account of his worldly 
 wealth. I already loved her, and a feeling of compassion mingled with 
 that love, as the thou'ght arose to my mind, how horrid it was to unite 
 youth and beauty with decrepid old age. Actuated by this impulse, I 
 there and then, offered her my hand and heart, which she blushingly 
 accepted. Her wedding day is appointed for next Thursday. Now it 
 only remains for you to give your consent, when I will find means to 
 get her from her mother's roof, and escort' her here, where we can be 
 privately married." 
 
 "You have not informed me of the lady's name," said his father. 
 
 " Eveleen Lisle," replied Frank. " She is beautiful in the extreme, 
 and she will be quite an acquisition in enlivening us in this dull house, 
 without a female to do the honors. I do not think, my dear father, 
 that a fire-side group is complete, without it is graced with the endear- 
 ing smile of woman." 
 
 George Seten replied, that he had no objections, if the girl was 
 respectable, such a one as he could receive into his house as his 
 daughter. 
 
 Frank thanked him, at the same time, informed him that should he 
 be fortunate, he would bring her home that night. Rising, he con- 
 tinued, " I have no time to spare, I have to arrange my plans ;" saying 
 this, he left the room. 
 
 Mrs. Lisle had misinformed Frank concerning Eveleen. She was 
 confined to her own room, which was at the back of the house, cut off 
 from all communication. On the day previous, as she was passing the 
 room of her mother, she heard loud and angry voices, when she paused 
 to listen. She soon learned that the conversation, which was carried on 
 in a high key, was concerning herself. While listening, she heard the 
 following remark made by the man whom she most detested on earth. 
 
 " After all I have done for you, and all your promises, you would 
 cheat me of my reward, which I have waited so long and patiently for, 
 but you shall not — by all the fiends in hell you shall not. I'll have her 
 in spite of every obstacle." 
 
64 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 "I do not wish to cheat you, Mr. , but I would have you wait 
 
 for a short time longer, until I get her more prepared to receive your 
 overtures We must not be too precipitate," replied Mrs. Lisle. 
 
 " I'll wait no longer," he cried. " You have put me off too long 
 now. She must be mine to-night, or I am no longer your friend." 
 
 " Say to-morrow night," said Mrs. Lisle ; " as that is the night upon 
 which I do not allow visitors, you will have a better opportunity, as 
 you will not be liable to interruption, should she make any opposition." 
 
 "' Well, be it so," cried he, " but not one day later." 
 
 Eveleen hearing a noise, darted up the stairs and entered her room, 
 hastily turning the key. , She seated herself for a moment, to gain her 
 scattered thoughts, when pulling a card from the folds of her dress, 
 
 she muttered, No. Bond street, she hastily returned -it to her 
 
 bosom, and rising, proceeded to envelope herself in a cloak, which she 
 took down from a peg, where it usually hung ; she then took her hat 
 from its case, and putting it on, approached the door, but pausing ere 
 she left the room, she said, " But will he deceive me ? He may be 
 deceiving me. Should it be so, I will seek some shelter elswhere, I 
 care not how humble ; 'twere better to dwell ia abject poverty, than 
 be compelled to endure the odious embraces of that hideous old man." 
 
 She started cautiously down the stairs, and proceeded towards the 
 front entrance ; but what was her horror, on passing the parlor door, 
 to be confronted by her mother, and the object of her aversion. 
 
 The former questioned her, as to where she was going, at the same 
 time, noticing her confusion. Eveleen stammered some reply, and 
 hung down her head to hide her agitation. 
 
 " Go to my room ; I will be there immediately ; I wish to speak 
 with you." 
 
 Eveleen slowly went up stairs, and entered the apartment of her 
 mother, where she was soon followed by that personage, who, seating 
 herself, addressed her as follows : 
 
 " Eveleen, you well remember what I have told you in reference to 
 
 Mr. , how that he aided me when the world frowned upon me, 
 
 and who has since been a generous friend to me, enabling me to live in 
 splendor and comfort, which has given me the opportunity to rear you 
 up in luxury, and give you an education suitable to fill any station. 
 You well know the reward he demands at my hands, which I a long- 
 time ago promised him, on his first taking notice of your growing beauty. 
 That was his business here to-day. I tried to put it off until a future 
 time, but he tells me that it is his intention to go to Europe, in a few 
 days, with his family, where he intends to remain for some time, and 
 that he would not defer the consummation of his long cherished wish 
 any longer. Upon his observing my opposition to his will, an alterca- 
 tion ensued, in which he informed me that if I did not co-operate with 
 him, and use my influence to gain your compliance, he would take the 
 house from me, and withdraw his friendship, by turning me once more 
 into the street, without a home. Now, I hope I shall have no trouble 
 with you." 
 
 " Mother, dear mother," cried Eveleen, " throwing herself upon her 
 knees before her, " can you, will you, sacrifice your daughter, your only 
 
THE CHIP BOY" OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 65 
 
 While thought after thought succeeded each other in my brain, I was moved by the appearance 
 of a little Chip-boy whom I saw coming towards me, with a basket-full of chips upon his back • so 
 pale, so sorrowful, care-worn, and dejected was his look, that it even moved that adamantine 
 substance composing my heart.— See page 9. 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 67 
 
 child, to the lust of au old man who has daughters of his own older 
 than I am ? You will not, will you, mother f'l and she buried her face 
 in the folds of her mother's dress, and moaned piteously. 
 
 "Come, come, rise, Eyeleen," cried Mrs. Lisle ; "you might have 
 fared worse ; he is not such a bad looking man ; what need you care ? 
 Comply but with his wishes, and it will throw him in your power. You 
 can command him, make him your slave ; for his situation in life is such 
 that he would sacrifice any thing but life, rather than have it publicly 
 known concerning his connection with you. So, conquer this repug- 
 nance, and receive him, when he comes, with smiles." 
 
 Eveleen arose to her feet, and stepping back a pace or two, exclaimed, 
 " I would not comply, to gain a sovereign's power." 
 
 "Well, go to your room for the present," cried Mrs. Lisle ; you will 
 think better of it before to-morrow night." 
 
 As Eveleen departed, she ascended the stairs after her, and turning 
 the key in the door, she detained her a close prisoner, where she was at 
 the time that Frank Seten inquired for her : detained by her unprin- 
 cipled mother, for the hellish purpose of catering to the lustful appetite 
 of an old fiend in human shape, who, in the walks of public life, was 
 pronounced by men a patron of virtue. How easily society can be 
 cheated by hypocrisy ! 
 
 If men would pause in their onward acts, in endeavoring to destroy 
 innocent virtue, and think of the extent of their guilt, they would turn 
 aside with horror ; for when a virtuous female has become a discarded, 
 ruined, deluded ontcast from society, she looks back at the artfulness 
 with which her destruction has been completed, and finding herself a loath- 
 some object — loathsome even to herself, deceived by man — she arms 
 herself with all the arts attainable by her sex, to deceive and ruin man 
 in turn. 
 
 Twas night, as Eveleen sat in her room, pondering upon her situa- 
 tion. She had in vain tried to escape from her prison ; she heard a 
 noise — it approached, when presently the key turned in the lock, the 
 door opened, and her admirer entered, with a sickening smile upon his 
 wrinkled visage. He was dressed in the height of the fashion, appear- 
 ing to have made the vain attempt to hide his advanced age. He 
 approached Eveleen, and seated himself upon the sofa beside her, and 
 took her hand. 
 
 She turned from him with disgust. On his perceiving that no oppo- 
 sition was made by her, he gently threw his arm around her. She rose 
 from the sofa, exclaiming, " Stand off, sir ! I know the hellish nature 
 of your visit ; but you will not accomplish your design, not while I 
 have life." 
 
 " Come, come. Eveleen, come now, be generous, my pretty one," he 
 said, in a whining voice. _ 
 
 " Be generous ! what do you term generosity ? — to give that to thee 
 which alone renders life desirable ; casting away all my hopes of hap- 
 piness in this world, and the salvation of my soul in the world to come, 
 and become one of those polluted objects which are daily met in our 
 streets, scorned and condemned by society. And this you would term 
 
68 TEE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 generosity. Begone, sir ! I loathe you as I would a toad that, just 
 issuing from the damp earth, would touch me with its slimy flesh." 
 
 As she was speaking, he approached her. She withdrew to the 
 farthest extremity of the apartment. He continued to advance upon 
 her, extending his hand to take hold of her. She struck it down, and 
 springing past him, pushing him over a chair, she darted through the 
 door. Hearing a noise upon the stairs, she ascended to the roof of the 
 building, and the courageous girl, rather than be caught and be sub- 
 jected to the persecutions of her tormenter, ran some distance upon the 
 tops of the houses, till, perceiving one of the scuttles off, she hastened 
 to it, and the thought flashed across .her brain that she might be ena- 
 bled to effect her escape by descending through it and find her way 
 into the street. On looking down, she observed that it was dark; she 
 cautiously groped her way down, without meeting with any obstruction 
 until she had arrived upon the lower flight of stairs, when the parlor- 
 door was opened by a female who bore a lighted lamp in her hand. 
 Upon observing Eveleen, with her hair dishevelled and streaming over 
 her shoulders, clothed in a white wrapper, hastening down stairs, she 
 screamed, and dropping the lamp, hurriedly closed the door. Eveleen 
 sprang for the entrance, and hastily letting herself out, she was received, 
 fainting, in the arms of Frank Seten, who was that moment approach- 
 ing the house of her mother, to inform her of his success, in having 
 gained the consent of his father. 
 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 69 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Edward Fay and Mary Man vers, had stood at the altar, and had 
 plighted their faith to sustain and nourish each other, through weal 
 and woe. sickness and in sorrow, as long as life was given them by the 
 great Dispenser. Mary had become a toother, and it was with the 
 purest joy, that Edward received into his arms the smiling infant. 
 
 The grief of Mary for the loss of her father, had gradually worn 
 away as new objects arose around her, which called forth her love. 
 Her old nurse went s;aily around from room to room, singing snatches 
 of old ballads, and Tommy had somewhat given up his rambling life, 
 remaining home, greatly taken with the infant, for it was a peculiar 
 trait in his character — his fondness for children. It was a happy home, 
 that of Edward Fay, such a home as is the reward of an honest, tem- 
 perate mechanic, who is faithful to himself, faithful to his employers, 
 faithful to his God, and faithful to his family. One da*y, having been 
 to work on a vessel down town, as he was returning home in the even- 
 ing with a light and buoyant heart, anticipating the reception he 
 would receive from his young and lovely wife, a slight disturbance in 
 one of those hells, where the elixir of the devil is daily dispensed freely 
 to poison men's minds, attracted his attention, when, pausing for a 
 moment to discover the cause, he observed one of those noble-minded, 
 generous spirits, who are so easily misled by designing persons, through 
 their kind-heartedness. I allude to those hardy sailors, who daringly 
 brave the dangers of the ocean to protect our commerce, and are the 
 means by which the current of wealth is borne unto our shores ; but, 
 alas ! how poorly are they requited for their services, subjected to poor 
 pay, hard living and abuse while at sea, and upon their arrival upon 
 shore, they are fleeced of their hard-earned wages by those persons 
 who are ever on the watch to rob the unwary. 
 
 As Edward paused, one of those noble tars was rudely thrust from 
 the door of the gin-shop into the street. His foot coming in contact 
 with a box which lay upon the sidewalk, he fell, his head striking the 
 curbstone, upon which he received a deep gash. The blood started in 
 a stream from the wound, while the poor sufferer lay motionless upon 
 the ground, unable, either from the injury that he had received, or 
 from the effects of the quantity of liquor, of which he had been par- 
 taking freely, to rise. A crowd had gathered about him, but not one 
 offered to assist him, nor was there one word of reprimand spoken to 
 the inhuman wretch who had been the author of the dastardly act. 
 Of what consequence was it ? — 'twas nothing. He was but a poor, 
 drunken sailor. Xobody cared for him. It was no matter whether he 
 
*70 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 lived or died. So thought the crowd, who stood by as unconcerned as 
 if he were some cat or dog, that had accidentally received an injury. 
 Oh ! how uncharitable and unsympathizing arc men in their dealings 
 one with another. Wrapped in the mantle of selfishness, they neither 
 see nor care for others' woes. That poor misguided man, that lay there 
 weltering in his blood, was once a bright : eyed child — an object of the 
 tenderest care of a doating mother — and loved as tenderly as the 
 children of some of those men who stood there enjoying the disaster 
 of the poor sailor. 
 
 Edward approached him, carefully raised him from the ground, took 
 his handkerchief from his pocket, and binding up the wound to stop 
 the effusion of blood, which trickled down his weather-beaten counten- 
 ance in little streams, took him by the arm, and persuading him to 
 accompany him home, started off amid the shouts and jeers of the by- 
 standers. Upon his way home, Edward learned from honest Will (as 
 he was called by his shipmates), "who had become somewhat sobered by 
 the fall, " that he had that morning shipped in the government service, 
 and had received three months' pay in advance, and one week's liberty 
 to stay on shore ; but," he continued, with a comic leer, (and feeling 
 into his pockets), "the sharks have pretty well cleaned me out of it. 
 I haven't got a copper left, or I'd ask you to splice the main-brace, for 
 running down to me with squared yards, and taking me in tow, w r hen I 
 was knocked do'wn in that bit of a squall." 
 
 Edward replied, " that it was much better to be without money, 
 than to spend it to enrich a parcel of unfeeling men, who had not one 
 feeling of sympathy in common with their fellow-creatures, but who 
 daily stood behind their bars, dealing out poison to man, bringing ruin 
 upon him and his family, without a care for their sufferings or misery. 
 So that they obtained gold, 'twas all that they cared for." He then 
 inquired the cause of the disturbance between him and the landlord. 
 
 Will replied, " that, early in the afternoon, as he was listlessly pass- 
 ing along, he was invited to enter and take a drink. Having drank, 
 he, with the noble generosity which actuates the most of our seamen, 
 treated in turn, calling up to the bar all in the house. So, treat after 
 treat was called for by him, until his money was all gone, when, asking 
 for another dram, he was abruptly told to leave the house. Will, not 
 liking this usage very well, became rather noisy, when, as before-men- 
 tioned, he was thrust from the store." 
 
 Upon their arrival at his residence, Edward, who was welcomed by 
 a kiss, on relating the mishap of Will to his wife, she kindly invited 
 him to be seated, and with her own hands washed and dressed his 
 wound. When this was accomplished. Will was made to sit clown to 
 sapper with the family. 
 
 As that honest, kind-hearted man sat at that table, gazing upon the 
 happiness depicted upon each countenance that surrounded him, he 
 thought of his precarious life — how that he had been a wanderer upon 
 the voyage of his lonely existence, unloved, uncarcd for by his fellow- 
 creatures, ever among strangers, without the sympathizing feelings 
 which are so dear to the human heartland long buried thoughts arose to 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. ?1 
 
 his memory. Visions of his early youth came up before him, and as 
 Mrs. Fay, at the conclusion of the evening meal knelt down, and in 
 beautiful and touching language gave thanks to the Giver of all good 
 for His kind care and protection through the trials and temptations of 
 another day, a tear arose to his eyes as he thought of his own dear 
 mother, to whom he had caused many a pang — to whom he in early 
 life so often listened, as she prayed in like manner. 
 
 Our seamen are generally susceptible. There is a chord within the 
 inmost recesses of their hearts — that can be easily touched, if taken in 
 the right way — which will discourse heavenly music. Thus it was with 
 this old tar. It was many years since he had been received into the 
 circle of a Christian family, and the early teachings of his beloved 
 parent, who had been long dead, had become choked up with weeds, 
 but not wholly eradicated. They had lain dormant for many years, to 
 be brought forth to flourish in truthfulness, by some kind and benevo- 
 lent hand. 
 
 How careful should parents be with children, and early instil the 
 beauties of religion, with all its holiness and duties, into their infant 
 minds. Is T o matter where they go, no matter what is their station in 
 life — whether upon the briny deep, or upon. the land — should they by 
 some mischance step aside from the path of rectitude, it will at times 
 recur to them amid the busy scenes of life, and startle them ; cause 
 them to pause in their downward course to ruin, and in many an 
 instance produce a reformation. The teachings of a Christian mother 
 are never forgotten by a child. How I shudder as I pass along the 
 streets upon the Sabbath — that holy day of rest from toil, which is 
 given up to worship in this Christian land of freedom, where each and 
 all may, according to the dictates of their own consciences, serve their 
 God in their own way — when I behold so many little children playing 
 and shouting, unrestrained by any guiding hand ; their parents them- 
 selves shut out from the holy light of God by wilful blindness, caring 
 not for the morals of their children. What a benighted spectacle does 
 a man present, who has come to the age of maturity without ever hav- 
 ing the knowledge of the divine love of the Redeemer impressed upon 
 his mind ! What a monument of darkness ! Parents blame fate for 
 the crimes of their children, instead of blaming themselves. The pub- 
 lic wonder at the depravity of human nature, as they glance their eye 
 over the account of some horrid murder, or examine the statistics of 
 our prisons, and find them full to overflowing, or witness the number of 
 inebriates in our city. The self-conviction will arise that it is the fault 
 of parents. 
 
 All were seated around a cheerful fire, highly delighted with the 
 droll stories and daring adventures, hair-breadth escapes and happy 
 times of honest Will, who, having the infant daughter of Mrs. Fay 
 upon his knee, apparently very contented, had been drawn out by Ed- 
 ward to speak of himself, much to the annoyance of Tommy, who now 
 and then threw spiteful glances towards him for keeping his little charge 
 so long from him. 
 
 After concluding a laughable little yarn which he bad been telling, 
 and witi which he had been taking the sailor's privilege — that of 
 
72 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 stretching the truth to its utmost — he sat tossing little Charlotte up 
 and down upon his hands. Tommy approached him stealthily, and 
 darting suddenly forward, he seized the child and ran to the opposite 
 side of the room. Will, not liking to be treated thus unceremoniously, 
 threw off his jacket, and was about to give battle, and contend for the 
 possession of the babe, to which he had become much attached consid- 
 ering the the short time that he had been in its company ; but, upon 
 being made acquainted by Edward of the peculiarities and malady of 
 Tommy, he desisted, and quietly took his seat. Gocd humor once 
 more being restored, Will was asked to tell another story. 
 
 After taking a chew of tobacco, the sailor's constant companion, 
 and .that enemy of the clean housewife who has a regard for her 
 carpets — he began : 
 
 " One bright morning as we were running before the wind — I was then 
 
 attached to the good old schooner S , which had been fully manned, 
 
 victualled, and dispatched by government to apprehend or destroy 
 those accursed pirates who infested the West India seas, ruthlessly 
 committing their depredations upon men and property. We were run- 
 ning as I said before, with the wind right after us with studding sails 
 set 'alow and aloft on both sides ;' the men were at breakfast, when 
 they were startled by the cry of Sail, Ho ! which came from the mast- 
 head, where a man w r as continually placed to look out for the enemy. 
 The officer of the deck hastily putting the speaking-trumpet to his lips, 
 with a quick startling cry, asked 'Where away V 'Broad on the star- 
 board beam, standing this way sir,' cried the man.' ' Can you make 
 her out,' cried the officer agan through his trumpet.' 
 
 " She looks like a small vessel sir," cried the man. Now, all 
 was bustle, (for the men had been picked for this expedition, and had 
 put to sea with the expectation of having a brush) ; so as may be sup- 
 posed — their souls were in arms and eager for the fray. The word 
 was passed along the deck, " Lay aft to the braces — stand by to take 
 in all the studding sails," — the downhauls being led along the decks 
 and manned, the word was passed along, — " All ready sir," " haul taut, 
 in studding sails, ease away the larboard head-braces, haul in to lee- 
 ward, put your helm down, cried the officer to the man at the wheel.'' 
 In came the studding sails, up went the yards sharp up, and our gal- 
 lant little vessel rounded too upon the larboard tack, as gracefully and 
 lightly as any belle among the upper ten, could reel and take her place 
 in the'dance. 
 
 The two vessels approaching from opposite directions, soon neared 
 each other, and we soon made her out to be a long low black schooner 
 which we had heard much of, and which had been a terror to our mer- 
 chant vessels. We beat to quarters, aud having disguised the looks of 
 our schooner outside, so as to resemble a horse jockey from one of the 
 eastern States, (which the buccaneer mistook us for) — we lay con- 
 cealed between the guns, all but a few of us who were walking the 
 decks and working the vessel. The officers had thrown off their glit- 
 tering uniform, and were dressed in rough pea jackets such as are worn 
 by officers of merchantmen while at sea. 
 
 The pirate came dashing along up under our lea, and the captain 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. To 
 
 hailed us, and commanded us to heave too, and send a boat on board with 
 an officer, bringing a manifesto of our cargo with him. Now, what do 
 von think was his answer ? ' cried Will to his eager listeners, who replied 
 that they did not know. "Why our captain gave orders to fire a broad- 
 side into him, which was done with such good effect that it sent both 
 his masts over the side, leaving him a wreck upon the ocean at the 
 mercy of the waves, killing the most of her crew, and the starspangled 
 banner floated in the breeze triumphantly. Our second cutter was 
 called away and hastily manned by a stout crew, commanded by Lieu- 
 tenant W ; which hastily pulled on board of the dismantled vessel. 
 
 On arriving alongside of her, the officer and crew sprang up aboard, 
 where nothing met. their view but the mangled remains of human 
 bodies. The officer gave the men orders to keep a good look out, and 
 he descended into the cabin, but what was his horror to perceive the 
 captain of the pirate surrounded by the remnant of his crew, holding a 
 lighted match in his hand ; in their midst was a number of barrels of 
 powder, with the heads knocked out. 
 
 On perceiving Lieutenant W , the buccaneer accosted him in 
 
 the following language: — " Look you here, my gay young spark, (by 
 
 the help of the d 1 or some of his angels who have deserted me, 
 
 after sticking by me for a long time), we are now at your mercy 
 as you suppose. Having made an easy conquest, it is your captain's 
 intention I expect to take us into port and have us tried for pirates, and 
 
 hanged as pirates. Now, there being a little spice of the d 1 in me, 
 
 I intend to disappoint him ; me and the remainder of my crew have 
 
 come to the conclusion to travel a quicker route toll 1, than through 
 
 courts of justice, so we have come to the conclusion that if you do not 
 go on board and acquaint your captain with our intentions, we will all 
 go on a voyage of discovery together ;" (and lie held the match within 
 an inch of the powder). " What say you my -men?* cried he. His 
 speech was hailed by a shout of approbation by his blood-thirsty crew. 
 " I had overheard the whole of the conversation," cried Will, " I 
 being one of the crew of the boat, but could not see the speaker ; I was 
 
 resolved to stand by my officer until the last." Lieutenant W . 
 
 during this speech had rapidly ran over his mind the situation of him- 
 self and boat's crew. Should he agree to the pirate's terms, his 
 actions might be construed into cowardice ; rather than be stigmatized 
 by that appellation by my brother officers, I would lose ten thousand 
 thought he, (such is the jealousy of a brave man for his honor). 
 While pausing to deliberate, the pirate continued, " Do you accept the 
 terms ? " 
 
 Lieutenant W , shutting his teeth with a firm resolve, exclaimed, 
 
 " Never ! The match dropped among the powder. I knew no more 
 until the next day, when 1 found myself laying in my hammock, on 
 board of our own little schooner, tended by the surgeon, who was anx- 
 ously watching my coming too. I inquired for those that went with 
 me in the boat, but was informed that they had met a watery grave ; 
 they had been destroyed, by causing the destruction of the destroyers 
 of many." 
 
74 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 His story was listened to with intense interest by all ; by none more 
 so than Jenny, who had been gazing on the countenance of the sailor 
 with distended eyes. As he concluded, she exclaimed, " Oh, the veelins! 
 they should ha' been a' burned at the stake." 
 
 And thus passed the time until the hour of rest, when Will was 
 invited to remain in the house until his departure to sea. For, dear 
 reader, rents had not become so high at that time (by the wrong 
 administration of a corrupt Common Council, which has since called 
 forth the indignation of the people, and with one loud voice called for 
 reform,) but that a working-man could keep a spare room for the 
 accommodation of a friend. So our houest friend was domiciled in the 
 family of this new found friend, where he spent a happy week in their 
 society, free from the snares and temptations that assail the sailor at 
 every turn. It was his delight to accompany Tommy and the little 
 Charlotte out of town, where they would sit upon the banks of the East 
 river, and gaze upon the passing vessels. Will would take great pains 
 to explain the nature of the different craft upou the river to his simple 
 friend, who appeared highly delighted, and wished that he was a sailor, 
 for he said that he liked sailors, for they could tell such big lies ; alluding 
 to Will's stories, which he said he didn't believe a word of. 
 
 Thus passed a week away, never to be forgotten by that worthy tar. 
 
 The evening before his departure, they were all seated, with clouded 
 brows, around the stove, the night being somewhat cold, although the 
 spring had far advanced. Edward felt really sorry at the approaching 
 parting, for he had become attached to the society of Will. When 
 Mrs. Fay, rising and going to the bureau, from which she took a new 
 Bible that she had purchased that day, approaching the sailor, she said, 
 " My friend, to-morrow is the day appointed for you to go on board of 
 your vessel. You will again be thrown amongst those honest but care- 
 less beings who have no regard for the future. I wish to bestow upon 
 you a souvenir, as a token of my esteem ; one that may, by the grace 
 of Gad, be of more value than all earthly treasures. Read it, my friend; 
 read it with care. You will there find a panacea against all worldly 
 cares." 
 
 She presented it to Will, who received it with the following remark: 
 
 " I will read it, lady ; if for nothing else, I will read it for the sake 
 of the giver." 
 
 Will seeing that a settled gloom had cast itself around upon them 
 all, forgetting himself for a moment, he cried, " As 1 am going away 
 to-morrow, suppose we have a little something to take, as parting is 
 generally a dry piece of business." But the thought of the temperate 
 habits of those around him reeurring to him, he stammered an apology. 
 
 Wiieu l\h>. Fay cried, "We will have a drink, and I will drink you 
 a toast, my honest friend ;" and going to the closet, she took from thence 
 a large pitcher and se?eral tumblers, which she placed upon the table 
 and lilled with clear jparkling water, when, taking one in her own 
 hand, she invited the rest to do likewise ; pausing for a moment, to 
 give force to her words, she gave the following toasl : " Here's to those 
 bright stars of temperance: may they form in one grand galaxy, and 
 
TKE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 75 
 
 serve as a beacon to guide the poor deluded drunkard to the pure foun- 
 tain of the waters of life." . She then drank off the water, her example 
 being followed by the rest. She then continued, addressing Will, 
 • ; Make that your ruling toast, as you hope for salvation hereafter, for 
 you. too, have a precious soul to be saved." 
 
 Will replied, gazing upon the countenance of that good woman, 
 looking upwards as he continued, '"When I forget to follow your 
 advice, may God forget me." 
 
 The rest of the evening was spent in religious devotion, Mrs. Fay 
 praying fervently to her Maker for the protection of him who was to 
 make his home for a time upon the deep. 
 
 On the following day Will Sykes took bis departure, bidding his 
 friends adieu, with a feeling of sorrow that he had never experienced 
 at any period of his life before. 
 
76 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 When Frank Seten received the insensible form of her he loved in 
 his arms, he hurriedly proceeded towards Church street, where he 
 observed a carriage standing, the driver having alighted and entered a 
 porter-house, to refresh himself with a glass of liquor. While Frauk 
 was looking around for the owner of the vehicle, he was startled by 
 hearing voices crying " This way, this way." They went this way from 
 the direction of the dwelling of Mrs. Lisle. This gave token that he 
 had been observed, and was pursued. Glancing hastily around, he 
 observed a gate which led to the roar of the building in front of which 
 he was standing. He entered. At this moment the driver of the 
 carriage issued from the door of the grog shop and was accosted by 
 the girl who usually tended the door, who was closely followed by Mrs. 
 Lisle. 
 
 " Did you see a girl running this way, sir ?" asked she. 
 
 " A girl," cried the driver, in a broad Hibernian accent ; " A girl. 
 Xow, my pretty dear, what kind of a girl ? was it a little girl, or a 
 big girl ; a white girl, or a nager girl ; a slim girl, or a broad girl ; a 
 fat girl or a lean girl. Xow, my darlint, if ye'll give me one swate 
 kiss, I'll tell ye all about it ; be my soul I will." 
 
 As he concluded speaking, he threw his arm around her neck, when 
 he received a blow from behind, which was delivered by Mrs. Lisle. 
 Turning to see from whence it came, she gave him a push which sent 
 him reeling into the gutter. The girl and her mistress starting down 
 Church-street in pursuit of the fugitive daughter of the latter. 
 
 Frank, seeing the coast clear, came forth from his hiding-place, 
 bearing his lovely burthen in his arms, who now began to give signs 
 of returning consciousness. 
 
 She murmured, " Begone, sir, you shall not accomplish your designs; 
 unhand me or I'll cry murder." 
 
 " Quiet your fears, dear Eveleen," cried Frank. 
 
 " Where am I ?" cried she, looking around with wild air. 
 
 "With one who will protect you with his life," cried he. "One 
 whom you love." 
 
 " Thank Heaven, then, I'm safe." 
 
 Frank now hastily spoke to the driver, who had risen from the 
 ground muttering curses upon all women, from mother Eve down to 
 the spiteful devil that had given him such a polter in the eye, that 
 he would not be able to see clear for a month. 
 
 Upon Frank thrusting a roll of bills into his hand he ceased his 
 grumbling, and quickly opened the door of the carriage, and letting 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. IT 
 
 down the steps, assisted Frank to place the lady upon one of the 
 cuhsioned seats. Seten sprang in, and the driver closing the door, 
 jumped upon the box, and drove off at a rapid rate, just as Mrs. Lisle 
 and the girl came in sight, having given up the useless pursuit. Upon 
 arriving at her own door she entered, and proceeded immediately to 
 
 her own private room, where she found Mr. foaming with rage 
 
 at his disappointment. It was with much trouble that she succeeded 
 in quieting him with the assurance that Eveleen would soon return, 
 when he would be enabled to accomplish his wishes. 
 
 Having become somewhat calm, he told her that things appeared as 
 if she and her daughter had leagued together to disappoint him in 
 his designs. He had become suspicious. If he should discover such 
 to be the case, she would rue it, for he would become her deadly 
 enemy. He concluded by saying, that few crossed his path with 
 impunity. 
 
 Mrs. Lisle assured him that he was mistaken, as it was so much to 
 her interest to aid him, he had no cause to fear. 
 
 Becoming somewhat assured, he said he would depart, but re- 
 quested her to inform him the moment that Eveleen should be found. 
 
 When she was left alone, she sat musing for a long time, calling up 
 different events of her life. She thought of her youthful days, of her 
 poor silly, but kind, good mother. ■ She thought of the grief and death 
 of that parent, upon the discovery of her own ruin; and the heinous- 
 ness of her own course, arose before her, as it flashed across her mind 
 that she herself was the instrument which was driving an innocent, 
 virtuous girl, such as she once was, to ruin. She thought of her own 
 enemy ; was she never going to attain her long desired revenge ? She 
 felt that she would, and she hissed through her teeth the words, 
 "won't it be a glorious moment." She then thought of her obligation 
 
 to M . How she hated that old wretch. His tyranical behavior 
 
 of late had caused her to despise him still more. Why not denounce 
 him to the world, expose him, and rid herself of him, and save Eveleen 
 from ruin ? but that, she thought, could only deprive her of a hand- 
 some living. Eveleen must be found and sacrificed to him. She 
 arose, approached the sideboard, and* drank a large glass of brandy. 
 Thus she sat deep into the night, busied with her own turbulent 
 thoughts, drinking glass after glass, until becoming unconscious, she fell 
 over upon the sofa, one of the most degrading sights that can meet the 
 view — a drunken woman. 
 
 When the carriage arrived in Bond Street, Frank alighted with 
 Eveleen ; turning to the driver, he gave him a five-dollar bill accom- 
 panied with the words, " You need not be telling every body that you 
 meet about this night's work." 
 
 " Xever fear," cried the driver, as he sprang upon his box and drove 
 off, greatly pleased at his good fortune. 
 
 Frank entered the parlor with Eveleen hanging upon his arm, whom 
 he introduced to his father, and a young clergyman of his acquaintance 
 
 who were seated conversing together. Frank had met Mr. S — 
 
 during the day, and informed him of his intended marriage, letting 
 
*T8^ THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 him into the secret, as he termed it, by telling him the same story as he 
 had told his father, and requesting him to be in waiting at his own 
 house in Bond Street in the evening, where he wished him to unite him 
 to the fair Eveleeu. 
 
 Having seated themselves for a moment, listening to the discourse 
 carried on between the two gentlemen, Frank pulled his watch from 
 his fob and looking at it, observed that they had no time to lose, they 
 had better proceed to business. 
 
 Mr. S arose and approached the table which stood in the centre 
 
 of the room, upon which lay a large Bible which he opened, and 
 requested the young couple to stand up before him. Doing as they 
 were desired, the marriage ceremony was pronounced, after which a 
 prayer was delivered, and Frank recompensing Mr. S very hand- 
 somely, who shortly after took his departure, they were left alone. 
 
 Frank endeavored to draw his father into a conversation with his 
 new-made bride, but found it impossible, as his sullenness had again 
 returned upon him. He answered only in monosyllables in a surly 
 tone. Eveleen feared him at first, but Frank informing her in a whis- 
 per that it was his way, that she must not be alarmed, they soon 
 retired to rest. 
 
 Time passed swiftly by. Summer, autumn, winter, had flown by, 
 and lay buried in the past. Frank Seten was happy with his young 
 wife whom he loved with a fondness bordering upon idolatry. He 
 was the father of a lovely boy of whom he was very fond. His father 
 had thrown the management of his affairs into his hands, and would 
 sit brooding in silence for days together in his own room, none 
 approaching him but his own attendant, a little girl whom Frank had 
 engaged to wait exclusively upon him. But the bad humor and fret- 
 fulness of the old man soon drove her away, causing a new one to be 
 hired nearly every month. 
 
 As Frank was passing through the street upon business early one 
 morning in the neighborhood of the dwelling of Edward Fay, his atten- 
 tion was drawn to a pretty little wagon which contained a lovely infant, 
 drawn by a man fantastically dressed. Upon inquiring of some chil- 
 dren who it was, he was informed by them that it was Crazy Tom. 
 
 " Whose is the child in the wagon ?" asked Frank. 
 
 " That's little Sissy Fay," cried the boy, running off to avoid 
 Tommy who was approaching, of whom he stood in much fear. 
 
 Seten continued his walk, all the feelings of hatred which he bore 
 to that family rising to his mind, and causing the desire for revenge 
 which had been smothered for a time in his bosom, to rush upon him 
 with full force. He quickly conceived a plan whereby he might gloat 
 his malicious hate upon their misery — -judging from the nature of his 
 own feelings for his infant son, how he could make the hearts of 
 Edward and Mary Fay bleed at the loss of their child. His compact 
 with Mrs. Lisle gave him the power to call on her for assistance to 
 aid him. Full of these thoughts, he took his way for that person's 
 
 dwelling. Mr, had not yet returned from abroad, where, it will 
 
 be recollected, we mentioned in a former chapter, he intended going 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. . 19 
 
 with his family. And as Mrs. Lisle saw day after day and month 
 after month pass away without the discovery of Eveleen, she dreaded 
 his return. Frank had often called since his marriage, but he was not 
 suspected of knowing anything of Eveleen, and was on very good terms 
 with the mistress of the house. 
 
 Upon his arrival, Mrs. Lisle invited him to ascend to her own room, 
 where they seated themselves side by side, upon the sofa. 
 
 "What news do you bring me, George, " cried Mrs. Lisle; "have 
 you discovered my enemy or my daughter ?" 
 
 " Neither," cried Frank, " and I have made diligent search for both. 
 I do not think that they are in the city. 
 
 " Curses on them ; but I do not blame Eveleen so much for run- 
 ning away to get rid of that hateful old wretch. Have you lately 
 inquired among your friends aud acquaintances if they have known 
 through life any person answering to the name of Grafton V 
 
 " I have,'' replied Frank, " and can gain no intelligence.-' 
 
 " I have searched the directory," pursued the lady, " but to no effect ; 
 there must be some mystery. He is either dead, or has left the country. 
 There is an inward feeling that tells me that he is living, and that I 
 shall yet see him. Were I to know that I might find him upon the 
 utmost con hues of the earth, I would travel barefoot— aye, should my 
 strength give way, I'd drag myself prostrate upon the ground, inch by 
 inch, so that I could meet him face to face, and spit my venom upon 
 him." 
 
 " I too, have an enemy, and by your cooperation," said Frank, " I 
 will be enabled to crush him. I do not wish him dead ; I would 
 torture him and make his days pass slowly by, one continual living 
 death." 
 
 He then related to her his enmity to Edward Fay, and the cause of 
 it, concluding by narrating to her the means by which he intended to 
 crush his enemies. 
 
 This woman, dead to every feeling of virtue and humanity, willingly 
 consented, feeling that it would be a relief to her to gratify her revenge- 
 ful nature upon some victim to whom she would be enabled to cause 
 misery. " But what will you have done with the child," asked she. 
 
 " L)rown it, or do what you like with it," cried Frank. 
 
 " That would not do," said she. " The body would be found, and 
 might lead to discovery ; and the parents identifying it would know 
 that the little thing was dead. Their grief would soon wear away, and 
 you would lose half your revenge. But if they "were kept in ignorance 
 of its fate it would be a source of daily sorrow aud uncertainty to 
 them." 
 
 "True," cried Frank, "you had better have it taken from the city 
 for a short time, until inquiry has ceased, and then place it in the alms 
 house, where, amongst the numberless infants daily placed there, it 
 would grow up unknown to any." 
 
 Having arranged all matters, Frank took his departure, sure of 
 success. . 
 
 On the following day as Tommy was taking his usual round witu 
 
80 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 little Charlotte in the wagon, when near to the corner of the street, 
 two ladies approached him. One of them addressed him in the follow- 
 ing language : 
 
 " My good sir, would you be so kind as to go into that grocery and 
 get me sixpence worth of cloves, there are so many men in there that 
 I have some delicacy in entering lest I be insulted* I will reward you 
 handsomely if you do.'' 
 
 Tommy looked at her for a moment, on being spoken to so civilly, 
 and said, " I will go, ma'am, if you will take good care of my little 
 strawberry, while I'm gone." 
 
 The lady promising to do so, gave him a bill, knowing that he would 
 be detained by waiting for the change. The idiot received it, ran tow- 
 ards the store, and entered ; when the woman looking around, and seeing 
 that she was unobserved, rapidly took the infant from the wagon and 
 concealing it beneath her cloak, hurriedly darted down the street, 
 followed by her companion, to where a carriage was in waiting, into 
 which they hastily jumped and drove off. 
 
 Upon Tommy's coming from the store, and not seeing the ladies 
 he, in his simple-mindedness, forgot to look to the infant, but went 
 on towards home, thinking that he had made a good speculation ; 
 nor did he miss little Charlotte until he arrived at the door, and was 
 about to take her out of the carriage. 
 
 He ran then into the house, crying that the fairies had ran away with 
 his strawberry. 
 
 His mother questioned him as to the cause of his outcry, when he 
 informed her of all he knew concerning the disappearance of the child, 
 at the same time giving her the change which he had received from the 
 grocer. 
 
 Mrs. Fay fainted when she became aware of her loss ; but upon 
 recovering she rushed into the street, exclaiming : 
 
 " My child — my beautiful child, where is it ?" 
 
 Immediate search was made in every direction in the neighborhood, 
 but in vain. Mary returned home, and sat weeping, as Edward 
 entered. 
 
 " For God's sake, what is the matter ?" he cried, hurriedly approach- 
 ing his wife. 
 
 She raised her head, and looking him in the face, with eyes filled 
 with tears, exclaimed, " Our child is lost — it has been stolen !" 
 
 Edward uttered a cry, and staggered into a chair ; when quickly 
 rising, he cried : " How know you ? Is there no trace left by which 
 we can find it — not one clue ?'' 
 
 "None," replied Mary ; and she related the circumstance of the 
 disappearance of little Charlotte, word for word, as she had received 
 it from Tommy. 
 
 " Curse him !" cried Edward, for the moment forgetting himself in 
 his excitement ; and he buried his face in his hands and groaned. 
 
 Mary trembled as she heard him utter the words. A dread came 
 over her, for which she could not account. 
 
 Edward hastily arose and rushed from the house. He traversed 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 81 
 
 street after street in his useless search, occasionally asking those he 
 met if they had seen a woman with a child in their walk. He was 
 laughed at by some, others hastily drew aside to avoid him, thinking 
 from his wild look and apparent anxiety, that he was insane. He 
 thus continued his search until a late hour, when on coming up Broad- 
 way, near the spot where now stands the Broadway theatre, he stopped 
 a young man whom he met, and anxiously asked the same question he 
 had asked so many upon that eventful evening. 
 
 The misery depicted upon his countenance was like balm to the 
 soul of the villain that stood before him. How he exulted in the suc- 
 cess of his stratagem. Header, it was Fank Seten whom Edward 
 had asked that heart-rending question. Seten was unknown to Edward 
 Fay, personally ; but, on the contrary, the latter had been pointed 
 out to the former, by his friend Henry Courtlandt, some months 
 previous, giving him the advantage. Seten answered in the negative, 
 at the same time asking him in a sympathizing voice, '' What was the 
 matter ?" adding, "you appear to be in. great trouble." 
 
 Fav burst into tears and said, " Some cruel person has stolen my 
 child." 
 
 11 Come, come," soothingly cried Frank, at the same time placing his 
 arm around Edward, " you must not take it so much to heart." 
 
 A new idea having flashed across his mind, that if he could lead his 
 victim to drink (which he thought might be easily done in his agitated 
 state), and send him down the channel of intempcrence, it would bo 
 refining upon revenge. With these thoughts uppermost in his mind, he 
 slipped his arm into that of Fay's, saying, " Come my friend, you are 
 greatly agitated, come and take something to quiet your nerves." 
 
 And he led him unresistingly into one of those dens where the 
 fiendish crew of Lucifer meet ; the presiding genius being a representa- 
 tion of his Satanic majesty himself ; or, in other words, one of those 
 painted palaces, made beautiful and grand by the glare of gaslight, 
 and the tears of suffering mothers, wives and children, which are used 
 as drops of- essence to mix with each glass of liquor that is poured 
 down the throat of the inebriate. 
 
 There, dear reader, in that hell, surrounded by tiplers, enticed in by 
 a friend, stood the temperate Edward Fay. A place where he had 
 never stood before — at a public bar! 
 
 Frank called for some brandy, at the same time inviting his com- 
 panion to do the same. 
 
 Edward made no reply, but stood as if stupified. 
 
 The landlord asked him what he would have, but received no answer 
 but a bewildered look. Upon which he poured out a quantity of 
 brandy into a tumbler and placed it before him. 
 
 Frank raised his glass to his lips, his companion mechanically did 
 the same, as if unconscious of what he was doing, and drank off the 
 brandy at a draught. 
 
 He soon became more composed, and at the- request of Seten he 
 related in what manner the child had been stolen. 
 
 Frank endeavored to cheer him up with the assurance that he would 
 
 6 
 
82 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 soon find it, and invited him to take another drink, with which he 
 complied. 
 
 After inducing him to drink several glasses, Frank informed his 
 companion that they must separate for the present, as he had some 
 business of a private nature, to which he must attend. At the same 
 time telling him that lie would be glad to meet him upon any other 
 evening, and shaking hands with each other at the door, they parted. 
 Fay staggering towards his home much intoxicated. 
 
 Upon his arrival, what was the horror of his wife, to perceive his 
 situation. She fell upon her knees before him and sobbed aloud. 
 
 " Oh, anything but this. Oh, God, in Thy infinite mercy deign to 
 save him from the fate of the drunkard." 
 
 As she clung to him he rudely* thrust her aside with his foot, and 
 reeled into the adjoining room where he slept, and throwing himself 
 on the bed was soon asleep. 
 
 Long did Mary Fay, with sorrowful heart, weep for her lost child 
 and the curse that had come_ upon her husband. If it could not be 
 conquered at once — and she shuddered as she thought of the miseries 
 of the drunkard's family — she came to the determination to speak to 
 him in the morning, and endeavor to extract a promise from him to 
 drink no more, thinking that he would not break his word to her, 
 muttering to herself, " He will not lie, he is the soul of honor itself." 
 And falling upon her knees, she prayed that God would bless her 
 efforts, and then lay down to obtain some repose. 
 
 Edward tossed restlessly in feverish dreams. He dreamed that he 
 beheld his dead father's mangled remains upon the ground. His face 
 was turned upward, looking with a pitying eye upon him. He saw the 
 form of his mother, arrayed in white, pointing with a sorrowful look at 
 his father, when she uttered the following words : — 
 
 Listen, my son, to what I say, 
 
 Thou wilt be tempted — go not astray ; 
 
 Avoid the intoxicating bowl, 
 
 Or thou art ruined, body and soul. 
 
 Ages gone by, when the Deity above 
 
 Smiled on this world of peace and love, 
 
 In the dark abodes there met a hellish band, 
 
 To drive peace and happiness from the land. 
 
 'Twas there that Satan first gave birth 
 
 To the demon Intemperance, that scourge of earth. 
 
 The surest ruin of mankind, 
 
 The destroyer of the body and the mind. 
 
 'Tie the key to all crimes in the calendar shown, 
 
 It nurtures vice, and sends it forth full grown. 
 
 From small petty crimes, to cold-blooded murder, 
 
 It pauses not there, but goes a step still further, 
 
 Driven to desperation, having gone too far to mend, 
 
 A self-invented death will be the end. 
 
 A pistol, poison, or the fierce rushing tide, 
 
 lie ends his miserablo life by suicide. 
 
 Suclu i» the end of him who is to rum a slave, 
 
 lie drops before his time into a drunkard's grave. 
 
 Listen, my son, to what I say, 
 
 Touch not the wine-cup — go not astray. 
 
THE CHTP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 83 
 
 As she concluded these words, she gradually faded from his sight ; 
 when waking with outstretched arms, he cried : — 
 
 "Stay mother, stay. Do not leave me." 
 
 But perceiving that it was but a dream, he lay thinking upon the 
 singularity of it until morning ; when, springing up he bathed his 
 aching and fevered temples in cold water, which made him feel some- 
 what refreshed. 
 
 It was with a downcast look that he met the gaze of his lovely wife, 
 who, seating herself beside him, in the most tender tone supplicated 
 him never to drink any more — let his troubles be what they would, 
 never to turn to the poison-cup for relief ; rather seek comfort above 
 and look to Him who alone could bring peace to the troubled soul. 
 11 Observe the misery," she added, " every day seen in our streets. 
 Forms that were once men, but now fallen beneath the brute, with 
 swollen and bloated countenances, ragged clothing, and penniless. 
 They stand with bleared eyes, gazing into the rum-shop, ready to 
 barter their soul's salvation for one glass of rum, to sink them still 
 lower in degradation." 
 
 Edward promised that lie would touch it no more. But did he keep 
 his promise ? Xo. His palate had tasted the poison, and his resolu- 
 tion was too weak to resist it. He became its slave. 
 
 I have seen a whole audience in tears on beholdiug the fictitious 
 misery of Uncle Tom, as represented upon the stage. They have 
 shown evident signs of indignation at the tyrant Lagree, his master, 
 as he so unfeelingly utters, " Come here, nigger, you are mine, body 
 and soul." What one amongst that whole number of people would 
 I one tear for the real miseries they daily meet in our street 
 Scarcely a day (Misses over their heads, but they greet with a 
 smile or shake of the hand, one that daily dispenses a more terrible 
 slave-holder than the one mentioned in the work of Mrs. Stowe; that 
 which holds the soul as well as the body in slavery — Alcohol. Dealt 
 out by him whom they take by the hand. The presiding genius of 
 Intemperance — the rumscller. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Oh ! how I love the ocean, to be upon its briny bosom when mad- 
 dening winds do arise the tempestuous billows, which toss and boil like 
 some seething cauldron. I have stood upon the prow, when the 
 mountain wave has come down upon our gallant bark with destroying 
 force, threatening fell destruction ; I have felt a wild and daring 
 energy infused into my being, as our ship would rise triumphantly, as 
 if with magic wing, and ride harmless over the boisterous billow; I 
 have walked the deck upon a calm, still night, with the bright, full 
 moon over head, casting its silvery rays upon the water, giving it the 
 
84 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 appearance of : one vast mirror, reflecting back the tall spars and sails 
 of our vessel upon its surface. Then it was, that I thought of my 
 careless life — of my erring ways, the pale and anxious face of my 
 distant mother would rise before me, with a pitying and supplicating 
 look, as if admonishing me to cease my reckless life ; when walking thus 
 in the midnight watch, with all .nature as it were, laying in sweet repose 
 around, I have prayed to that God, to whom my tender mother has so 
 often prayed for my soul's salvation, I felt my heart grow light, and I 
 have felt a better and a happier man. 
 
 Forgive me, dear reader, for wandering from my story ; but old 
 scenes will sometimes recur to my memory. 
 
 The vessel in which our friend, Will Sykes, put to sea was des- 
 tined to cruise in the Mediterranean. Faithfully had that old tar kept 
 his promise of reformation, which he had given to Mrs. Fay. It was 
 with considerable self-constraint that he had avoided going to the grog- 
 tub, when the drum rolled to call the seamen to receive their daily 
 rations of spirits, but at such times, he would utter a prayer, for 
 strength of mind to resist the temptation. 
 
 Upon a beautiful day, which was drawning near its close ; that portion 
 of the twenty-four hours in which the thoughtless, careless, generous 
 sailor is allowed the most freedom — the dog-watch — all restraint for the 
 moment being taken off, he amuses himself as best suits him. Many a 
 joke is banded from one to another ; tricks are played by shipmate upon 
 shipmate, which are generally received by the victim with a good grace. 
 It was the hour when Will loved to take his Bible. That precious 
 present of his kind friend, when the toils and cares of the day were 
 over, and read chapter after chapter from it, and wonderiiigly cry, 
 " What love ! what charity for a sinful world I" 
 
 Upon the day, to which we call the attention of our reader, just as 
 the sun was setting in the west amid a bank of clouds, tinged with a 
 golden hue, which cast a brilliant, glittering light upon the waters, 
 Will was sitting between the guns, with his Bible open before him, 
 attentively reading. He paused as he thought of his absent, kind 
 friends, and fervently did he pray for them. Alas ! how little did he 
 imagine how much they stood in need of prayer. 
 
 At this moment, a party of mischievous sailors came running along 
 the deck, knocking his book from his hand, and ran forward, laughing. 
 
 Will meekly picked up his treasure, and putting it into his bosom in 
 a low voice, humbly uttered the words, " Forgive them, Master, they 
 know not what they do," and descended to the lower deck. 
 
 It is usually the custom with vessels of war, when they are upon 
 their cruising station, to shorten sail each evening, not being bound to 
 any particular port, they are not in any hurry to proceed on their 
 journey. 
 
 Will had scarcely arrived upon the lower deck, when he heard the 
 shrill chirup and winding whistle of the boatswain and his mates, and 
 then the loud, hoarse call of u All hands reef topsails," as it was 
 uttered from their lips. 
 
 A general movement now took place among the crew, each and all 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 85 
 
 hastened to their stations, which having been accomplished, and the 
 first lieutenant having taking command (which he always did upon such 
 an occasion), he raised his trumpet to his lips, and the cry resounded 
 along the decks, " Man the royal and top gallant clewlines." 
 
 " All manned, sir." 
 
 " Haul taut, in royals and top gallant sails. Haul down the flying 
 jib. Man the weather topsail braces, reef tackles and buntlines," 
 again came from the quarter deck in loud tones, from the first lieute- 
 nant. 
 
 " All manned, sir,*' was the reply. 
 
 " Haul taut ; round in the weather braces ; let go the topsail 
 halliards ; haul up the reef tackles and buntlines. Lay aloft top men. 
 Take two reefs in the topsail." 
 
 No sooner was the word given to lay aloft, than the rigging 
 resembled a bee-hive, with its clustering bees, each man endeavoring to 
 outstrip the other, in gaining their stations upon the yard, where they 
 quickly reefed the sail, and hasten to descend to the deck again. 
 
 The word now being given to man the topsail halliards, which being 
 done, the words issued from the trumpet, " Haul taut ; walk away," 
 and the shrill tones of the life-inspiring life and the stamping of feet, 
 keeping time, was heard for a moment, as the topsails arose gracefully 
 fluttering in the breeze. 
 
 Having accomplished this piece of nautical duty, the watch was set, 
 and silence reigned over the vessel, as she took her lonely way, cleaving 
 the billows of the mighty deep. 
 
 Will belonged to that portion of the crew, who had the watch below. 
 The moon was shining brightly, inclining to the west, the vessel was 
 upon the starboard tack, heading to the northward. The hour of nine had 
 arrived — announced by the bell striking two. A dark cloud had arisen 
 from the horizon, and had ascended high into the heavens, which gave 
 tokens of a squall. The officer of the deck had aroused the crew, to 
 be readiness to meet the emergency. A low groaning sound could be 
 heard as it approached, tearing up the water in its fury, and sending 
 it through the air in showers. It came down like a destroying ava- 
 lanche, or a maddened war horse, threatening fell destruction upon the 
 devoted ship. Striking her with all its force broad on the beam, it hurled 
 that large vessel (which resembled some great leviathan of the deep), 
 upon her side. What a grand sight was there for an artist. The 
 moon shining brightly on one side, with a smooth sea, while on the 
 other the storm-cloud revelled triumphantly, amid devastation and deso- 
 lation. The officers and the men clinging to the guns and rigging, as 
 they felt that their ship was settling still lower and lower in the water, 
 threatening them with a watery grave, when they were aroused by a 
 cry, that was heard above the howlings of the storm. 
 
 " What fear ye ? Ye are in the hands of Him who is ever with you 
 in the darkest night, or in the broad glare of day, — in the storm as 
 well as in calm. Turn your thoughts to Him." 
 
 Twaa Honest Will, who had rushed upon deck, and springing upon 
 a gunslide, stood there with halt streaming in the wind ; and the moon 
 
86 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 shining full upon his face, lighted it up with an inspiring brightness, 
 the terror-stricken crew gazing upon him in wonder. 
 
 Having uttered those words to draw their attention, he continued, 
 in simple and touching lauguage, with the following prayer — 
 
 " Oh, Most Mighty and Merciful God, Thou who hast power upon 
 the sea as well as upon the land, deign to look down, with a pitying 
 eye and outstretched hand, upon our storm-lashed bark, and with thy 
 saving love and mercy, spare us, that we may live to acknowledge thy 
 mercy, and to glorify thy holy name. But, should it please Thee, in 
 thy all-wise and unerring judgment, to cut us off from this life, to enter 
 upon the life to come, grant that we may meet the dictates of Thy 
 will without repining, through the love of Him that died to save a sin- 
 ful world. Amen." 
 
 The words thus feelingly uttered by the old sailor had scarcely died 
 away, carried upon the wings of the terrific gale, far off to the leeward, 
 when a gust of wind, more powerful in its fury than what had hitherto 
 assailed them, came upon them with maddening force, burying the 
 strained and groaning ship still deeper in the waves, threatening instant 
 destruction to all on board, when a loud, sharp sound, resembling the 
 firing of artillery, was heard, and every sail that was set upon the ship, 
 burst from the yards, and blew away to leeward, thus allowing the 
 vessel to gain an upright position, and saving, miraculously, the devo- 
 ted ship, by the will of an all-merciful God, in answer to the humble 
 petition that had been addressed to the throne of mercy. 
 
 Three cheers went up from grateful hearts, at the divine interposi- 
 tion of Providence, and, with light hearts/the crew proceeded to clear 
 the wreck, and get everything snug and ship-shape, to ride out the 
 gale. 
 
 Will was held in great awe by many of the simple-minded sailors, 
 who actually believed him to be the saviour of the ship, and it was 
 with great trouble that he convinced them, that it was through the 
 divine will of the Most High, that they had been snatched from des- 
 truction. He drew a little circle of those hardy men around him, each 
 evening, who listened attentively to him, as he would read passages of 
 the New Testament to them, and discourse of and explain to them the 
 love and sufferings of the Redeemer, for the salvation of their souls, 
 and his efforts were blessed, in many a case, by the truth gradually 
 dawning upon their darkened minds, making a paradise of the choked- 
 up wilderness. 
 
 If that angelic woman, even amid her own misery, had seen the 
 growth of the seed that she had planted in the heart of the paor, mis- 
 guided sailor — as it grew up in abundance, and scattered its fruits 
 around on all sides — she would have exclaimed, with lightened heart, 
 " Father, I thank Thee." 
 
 " Homeward bound !" What an exhilarating sound. What fond 
 associations it brings to memory, and causes the blood to rush swiftly 
 and joyfully to the heart, at the anticipation of the glad meeting with 
 distant friends. Such was the sensation felt by Honest Will, as the 
 hoarse voice, echoed py his mates, called, "All hands up anchor for 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 87 
 
 the United States." And as each day went by, he would gaze upon 
 the setting-sun, and say, " One day less between our meeting." 
 
 Upon his arrival in the city, he anxiously sought for his friends ; but 
 he could gain no trace of them, they having removed from the house 
 in which they lived when he departed. Nor could those that dwelt 
 there give him any intelligence concerning them. He did not meet 
 with them for many years. He had fully determined to go to sea no 
 more. He intended to obtain employment at his mechanical trade, 
 which he had learned in his youthful days, before the demon intempe- 
 rance had taken possession of him. After some search, he was success- 
 ful. He obtained board in a religious private family, where he dwelt 
 contented, and much good has he been the means of doing. Many 
 a man who had given way to the damning influence of alcohol, who is 
 now walking our streets with proud, elastic step, can boast of his 
 reformation, from hearing his simple, pleading voice uttered to him 
 in supplicating language, humbly begging him to avoid and cast from 
 him the poison cup. 
 
 Some two years after he had given up the sea, having occasion to 
 be in the lower part of the city, one afternoon, he was met by a party 
 of sailors, who accosted him with — 
 
 " Hello ! how do you do, Will ? How do you get along ?" 
 
 Having answered to their congratulations, he was invited to accom- 
 pany them to the corner, to take a drink. 
 
 Up©n his refusing, they took him by the arm, crying — 
 
 '• O, Gammon ! we haven't met you here for a long time, so, you 
 must come and have a drink." 
 
 Will, now making himself heard by all, cried — 
 
 " Avast, there, shipmates ! I've drank long enough with you. 
 Now, come and take a drink with me." 
 
 " Agreed, agreed," was echoed from one to the other, and those 
 thoughtless men, who thought it was their duty to drink and spree as 
 much as it was in their power, while on shore, followed our old friend 
 up the street, who, stopping before a crockery store — before which 
 stood a pump — entered, and borrowing a pitcher and tumbler, from 
 the lady who was in attendance upon the customers — went to the 
 pump, where, filling the pitcher with water, he cried — 
 
 " Come, shipmates, come — join me in a drink, that will inspire you 
 with new life. 'Twill not cloud the brain, nor gnaw the heart-strings ; 
 drink of this to overflowing, and your intellect will be clear — no fever- 
 ish, throbbing head-ache after it. Come, drink, boys. Here's to the 
 cold water system." 
 
 As he concluded those words, he tossed off the glass of water ; and 
 greatly to the amusement of the bystanders, who had assembled in a 
 crowd to listen to his words, he dealt out to each sailor a glass of the 
 sparkling water, telling each, as he handed it to him, to make that his 
 constant beverage. He returned the pitcher to the store, and bidding 
 adieu to his old shipmates, took his way up the street. 
 
 He had not proceeded far when he overtook a young female, whose 
 sorrowful countenance, prompted him to address her in the following 
 
88 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 language. "Are you in distress, Miss? if you are, and there is any 
 thing* that I can do to aid you, I will do it willingly." 
 
 The girl looked up into his face, where she beheld something in the 
 benevolent look that met her gaze, which told her that he would be 
 her friend, and bursting into tears, she exclaimed in a choking voice, 
 "Alas, my lot is a hard one." 
 
 He soothingly replied, " If I am not too bold, tell me your troubles, 
 probably I may be able to relieve them." 
 
 "I thank you for your kindness," replied she, "but I fear, that that 
 is impossible." And she voluntarily related her story as they walked 
 along. 
 
 " A few years since, amid that wreck of fortunes, which made so 
 many of our merchants bankrupts, my father doing an extensive busi- 
 ness withstood the crash for a time, as house after house failed around 
 him, but alas, it came his turn to succumb to the overwhelming blow ; 
 upon arranging his affairs he found himself beggared. He struggled for 
 a while against his fate, having obtained a situation as head-clerk in 
 the store of a merchant, whom he had obliged when in prosperity, and 
 who, by good fortune had surmounted the shock. As time passed on, 
 he began to give evident signs that he had become addicted to drink- 
 ing, for he would come home at night so much intoxicated, that he was 
 incapable of helping himself. My poor mother, whose health being 
 delicate, soon gave way under this saddest of all evils that had yet 
 fallen upon us, and she drooped day by day, and died with a prayer 
 upon her lip, that God would in his mercy, arrest my poor father in 
 his downward course to ruin. After her death he became still worse, 
 and was soon discharged by his employers: upon this event happening, 
 he became one of the loiterers around the bar-room, ever ready to 
 drink with anybody that would treat him. We were forced to move 
 into wretched apartments. One evening he was accompanied home by 
 a young man whom he introduced to me by the name of Henry Court- 
 landt, who looked upon me with such a bold staring look that 1 shud- 
 dered. After shaking me by the hand which he had taken, I withdrew 
 to the opposite side of the wretched room and seated myself, he still 
 keeping his eyes upon me. After remaining for a short time silent, 
 he said to my father, "Jennings this is dry business, suppose that we 
 have a drop of brandy," my father readily assented, when upon receiving 
 some money from Courtlandt, he took a bottle and went out; he had 
 scarcely left the room when the young man approaehed me, and at- 
 tempted to throw his arms around me. I started up, exclaiming, 
 'what mean you, sir,' and pushed him from me with ail the strength 
 I was master of. My father's foot-step, being heard at the door, he 
 sat down with a scowling look at me, muttering - you will rue this 
 treatment yet.' My father entered, and they sat down together and 
 drank, but I observed that the young man drank lightly, while my 
 father drank large quantities, and soon was very drunk, falling over on 
 the floor. Courtlandt again approached me, but looking him straight 
 in the eye, I told him that if he did not immediately depart from 
 the house I would cry out. Fearing that I would do so, which would 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE . DRY DOCK. 89 
 
 cause him some trouble, lie went out muttering. In the morning, 
 when my father was somewhat sober, I informed him that I had 
 been insulted by the young man, that came home with him the night 
 previous. 
 
 " ' Impossible/ cried he, ' insulted by Henry Courtlandt. I do not 
 believe it, there is not a more gentlemanly young man in town. He 
 would not insult any one, so there must be some mistake." 
 
 11 1 saw that it would be useless to endeavor to convince him at that 
 time, so I ceased to try. 
 
 "And such is the life," continued the girl, " that I have led ever 
 since, exposed to his insults at every visit, I have been so far enabled to 
 escape the snares that he has laid for me." 
 
 As she concluded she looked up into the old man's face and con- 
 tinued. "I am very thankful to you sir, for your kind attention, but I 
 fear we must part here, as I reside up this alley." 
 
 As Will had listened to her tale, he had formed the resolution to 
 endeavor to save that young creature from ruin. When addressing 
 her he asked, " will you permit me to enter with you, I would like to 
 see your father."' 
 
 She hesitated for a moment, when consenting, he followed her up a 
 dark alley, and entered a miserable apartment in one of the rear build- 
 ings, where amid wretchedness dwelt a man and his daughter, who had 
 once been received in the highest circles. Upon entering, Will was 
 introduced by the girl to her father, who was seated upon a broken 
 chair, brooding moodily over his misfortunes: by chance he was sober. 
 Will seated himself beside him and entered into conversation, drawing 
 him out by degrees. Before he left he had convinced him of his own 
 folly, and' of the clanger of his only child; when, rising, he exclaimed, 
 " were I sure that he intended harm to her I'd shoot him." 
 
 " Vou would do better by driving him from your door; but you can 
 easily ascertain upon his next visit; when he endeavors to ply you with 
 liquor, pretend to drink until you are apparently drunk, then you will 
 be enabled to see the result." 
 
 Agreeing to the proposition of Will, Mr. Jennings observed, " I will 
 try it this very night, for I expect him here." 
 
 Will now took his departure, promising to call again during the 
 evening. 
 
 When Courtlandt arrived, he as usual, had some brandy brought in, 
 and frequently invited Jennings to drink, who adroitly threw it over 
 his shoulder. As the night drew on he appeared very drunk, when fall- 
 in- over, he lay helpless upon the floor. He had not been in this situ- 
 ation but a few minutes, when Courtlandt approached Sarah, and saying, 
 " look here, my girl, 1 have wasted time enough upon you," darted 
 upon her, and placing his hand over her mouth to prevent her crying 
 out, endeavored to throw her down. He was startled by a noise, on 
 looking round, he perceived her father approaching him with a pistol 
 levelled at him. He sprang into the middle of the floor, and as Jeuniugs 
 was about to fire at him, he dexterously knocked up his arm, which, as 
 the pistol went off caused the ball to lod^e in the ceiling. Courtlandt 
 
90 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 hastily drew a dirk knife from his pocket, and buried the blade in 
 
 the old merchant's heart, muttering as he did so, " take that d n 
 
 you," and he darted out of the house just as Will was entering, who 
 tried to arrest his steps, but the young man thrust him aside, and 
 sprung into the street. Will entered and beheld the girl hanging over 
 the dying body of her father. As Will knelt beside him, he with great 
 effort, uttered the words, "Protect her," pointing to his daughter, and 
 ceased breathing. He was a corpse. 
 
 CHAPTER XI Y. 
 
 Many years have gone by. Years of patient, enduring suffering and 
 misery, to Mrs. Fay. Since that fatal day, upon which Edward was 
 induced to partake of that glass of brandy, he had sunk low in the 
 scale of human nature. In the early part of December, 1852, about a 
 year previous to the opening of our tale, we find them living in a 
 wretched abode, in the vicinity of the Dry Dock. Mary had given 
 birth to two more children, one of them a boy, now, about nine years 
 of age ; the other, yet an infant in arms. Faithful old Jenny had still 
 clung to her young mistress through all her misery; and, in many 
 an instance, when keen biting hunger had appeared among the 
 wretched inmates of that desolate home, she had traversed the streets, 
 asking alms, to procure them food. At the present time, by her labor 
 — taking in washing for some workmen, and the united efforts of little 
 Tommy, who gained a trifle by selling chips — they managed to keep 
 from starving. Edward would be absent from home for days toge- 
 ther ; and, since his unfortunate failing, Crazy Tom, who had ceased 
 to mourn for his lost strawberry, of whom no trace could be gained, 
 had clung to Edward, in his downward career, and accompanied him 
 in his wanderings, to watch over him, as he said, feeling that his idiotic 
 intellect was superior to that of the drunkard's. 
 
 The downward course of the inebriate has been placed so much 
 before the public, in all its debasing misery — and it has been so truth- 
 fully illustrated by Mr. C. W. Clarke, in the drama of the Drunkard, 
 upon the Museum stage, and the miserable life of the unfortunate men 
 who become addicted to drinking, bears such a resemblance one to the 
 other — that it appears like the same story told over and over again. 
 Conscious of this, I have come to the conclusion to pass over many 
 years of Edward Fay's misguided life, aud take him up at the period 
 mentioned at the commencement of this chapter. After acquainting 
 the reader with a few occurrences which happened daring the interven- 
 ing years, I will continue my tale. 
 
 When Mrs. Lisle had obtained (lie infant daughter of Edward Fay, 
 she lei: the city, remaining absent for a month, until all iuquiry had 
 ceased concerning the child. She had seen advertisements, in the pub- 
 lic papers, requiring information of the lost one, from day to day. 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 91 
 
 When having read them, she would look upon the sweet face of the 
 infant, and smilingly say, " They may look in vain." She, at length, 
 returned to the City, and placed it in the Alms House, giving out, 
 that its parents were dead. Upon arriving at her own house, in 
 
 Lispenard street, she learned that M , her friend and protector 
 
 so long, had died abroad, and orders were left for her to remove, which 
 she was compelled to do, and finding herself alone in the world, with- 
 out a friend, she drank still deeper, and gradually sank lower and 
 lower, until she was glad to herd with the lowest of her sex. 
 
 Our old friend Will having attended to the funeral of Sarah Jeu- 
 ning's father — took her under his protection, and in time became her 
 husband, of which she has never repented ; finding him, although much 
 older, a kind, attentive man. They now reside in avenue D, with a 
 smiling little family growing up around them. The Seten family still 
 reside in their splendid mansion, in Bond street. Frank appears com- 
 paratively happy in the society of his lovely wife. Having accom- 
 plished his revenge, and succeeded in sending Edward down the path 
 of ruin, he was contented. Eveleen Seten was flattered by all for her 
 beauty, and had become one of those spoiled and heartless leaders of 
 fashion. By Frank's advice, she had never held communication with 
 her mother, he, fearing that her connection becoming known to the 
 world, would bring disgrace upon his house ; therefore, she was left in 
 ignorance of the whereabouts of her daughter. Their son, William, 
 had grown up a tall stripling, beloved by all that knew him, so diffe- 
 rent was lie from his father, gentle, kind-hearted and forgiving, doing 
 good to all that lay in his power. 
 
 Old Seten still lived, but had become much altered. He, after a 
 long life of fraud, villainy and remorse, had, through the divine mercy 
 of a forgiving God, sought the true path of righteousness. Having 
 been forced, through his morose and cross temper, to exchange his 
 little attendants so frequently, Frank had, at length, obtained him one 
 from the Alms House, some two or three years previous to the time 
 of which we are writing. 
 
 When the little Rosa first entered upon her duties, of attending upon 
 the old man, she, to his surprise, bore all his ill-humor with so much 
 resignation, that it often puzzled him how she could command her 
 temper. One day, having been more cross than usual, he drove her 
 from the room. The room of Rosa was adjoining that of the old 
 man, where she could be ever ready for a call when wanted. After her 
 exit from his apartment, he caught the low, muttering sounds, as of 
 one in prayer. He gently approached his door, and, on softly open- 
 ing it, beheld the beautiful girl upon her knees, fervently offering up a 
 prayer for him* — he who was so cruel to her. His heart smote him, 
 and, for the first time in his life, a holy sensation passed through 
 his breast — a feeling of sorrow and repentance. 
 
 At the conclusion of her touching prayer, which had brought a 
 tear into his eye, he called her Into his room, and asked her kindly, 
 why she prayed for him. 
 
 Rosa meekly replied, that it was her duty to pray for everybody. 
 
 u What !" cried he, M for those that daily abuse you V 
 
92 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 " God has commanded us to pray for our enemies," replied she, in a 
 low voice ; and falling upon her knees before him, she seized his hand, 
 and, in supplicating tones, continued — 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Seten, for the love of the meek and holy Redeemer, 
 pause before it is too late, and cast from you all worldly thoughts, and 
 look up imploringly to that God, (whom, in every action of our sinful 
 lives, we rebel against, but who alone can save us from endless tor- 
 ments,) and ask for forgiveness." 
 
 Seten trembled as the girl proceeded. 
 
 When she had concluded, he, in great agitation, said — 
 
 " I fear there is no hope for me." 
 
 " My dear sir, the first step to repentance is, the acknowledgment of 
 our guilt. And has not the Redeemer in his love, given to a wicked 
 world the brightest hopes, when he said, ' All ye that thirst after right- 
 eousness, come unto me ' V 
 
 And thus this young creature led, step by step, that hard-hearted, 
 cross old man, into the path that leads to true happiness, where he in 
 time found peace for his troubled soul. 
 
 Old Seten had become much attached to her, never being willing to 
 have her long absent from him. There was another one in that estab- 
 lishment who had obtained the true light through her instrumentality. 
 That one was William, who had listened to her gentle teachings. It 
 was the old man's delight to have these two young people iu his room 
 of an evening, where in humble prayer they would thank God for his 
 mercies, while ever and anon bursts of music and mirth would find 
 their way into that room, from those gay^, thoughtless beings iu the 
 parlor, who surrounded the careless, beautiful, indolent wife of Frank. 
 Upon evenings when there was no company at the house, the old man, 
 accompanied by Rosa (who was allowed to sit with the family at such 
 times), would enter the parlor, and pass the evening with Frank and 
 his lady, and many an effort (aided by Rosa) did he make to draw 
 them from their thoughtless way of life, but hitherto without success. 
 
 There was a time during the downward course of Edward Fay, that 
 had men not been so selfish and uncharitable, he might now have 
 been a blessing to his family, and an honorable, humble follower of his 
 God. 
 
 One evening, shortly after the birth of our little hero, as our worthy 
 friend, Will Sykes, was returning home from his work, on turning a 
 corner he met a poor miserable object, with bloated countenance, drag- 
 ging himself tremblingly along. There was something in that 
 marked as it was with the curse of intemperance, which seemed 
 familiar to him. Stopping and looking steadfastly into his face, their 
 eye- met. The truth flashed across his mind that it was Edward Fay, 
 who had become a drunkard. That accounted for his useless search. 
 He accosted him, and kindly shook hands with him, and putting his 
 arm within that of the poor, despised inebriate, accompanied him home. 
 How his heart suffered for the miseries too plainly depicted upon the 
 pale face of Mary, as he met her gaze. Long and beseechingly did he 
 discourse with Edward to east the demon from hirn, and pointing to 
 the slumbering babe in that suffering woman's arms, continued, 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 93 
 
 " Edward, for the love that you once bore for her who sits there be- 
 fore you, and the duty and fatherly care which you owe to that sleeping 
 infant lying there, pray with trustful and truthful fervency to that im- 
 maculate being, who has power to bring relief to you in the midst of 
 darkness, that He will shield you from further temptation." 
 
 After having fervently prayed with them, he left, promising to call 
 the next day. 
 
 The earnestness of the old man's touching language, softened the 
 heart of the miserable man. Scenes- of early life arose before him as 
 he looked around upon the miseries of his family, and he formed the 
 resolution to reform. 
 
 On the following morning he issued from the house with the sole in- 
 tention of seeking employment. As he proceeded through the streets 
 he met Frank Seten, in company with a gaily dressed young man, who, 
 upon observing Fay, sneeringly passed him by. He gazed after them, 
 and muttered — 
 
 "• What a fate is mine ! It is maddening to be thus despised by my 
 acquaintances. If I meet them in the street, they look at me with 
 scorn, or pass me by unnoticed. I am pointed at as a drunkard. 
 Alas ! it is too true — made so by the very ones who now deny me their 
 company — led on, step by step, from fashionable wine-drinking, to 
 whisky, brandy, gin, until the damning curse of the rum-seller is 
 branded on my brow. I will reform, and become a temperate 
 man." 
 
 Full of these thoughts, he took his way to the yard of a ship-builder, 
 whom in former years he had worked for. Upon asking him for employ- 
 ment, he was told with a look of contempt that he did not employ 
 drunkards. He sought employment at various places, but not succeed- 
 ing, he became tired, and weary, and discouraged, and exclaimed — 
 
 '" May the drunkard's curse light upon thee — every friend turn from 
 nun thee as they would the poisonous viper — all mankind conspire 
 to rob and cheat thee — dollar after dollar be taken from thee, until 
 thou art as poor as I am. May keen, biting hunger come upon you, 
 and force you to become a common beggar in the streets — then you 
 will complain of the injustice of mankind, and then the drunkard will 
 laugh at your misery." 
 
 He took his way "to one of the low haunts where he spent much of 
 his. time. Thus was an opportunity thrown away of reforming a man, 
 who in till probability would have become once more a kind father and 
 a tender husband. Men should be more charitable in their dealings 
 with each other. We will now return to our tale. 
 
 Upon the afternoon of a cold day in the month of December, Mrs. 
 Fay sat with her infant on her lap, looking sorrowfully into its thin, 
 pale face. Her husband had been absent for two or three days, with 
 owtant attendant. Our little hero was out selling chips. Her 
 old nnrse had gone home witli some clothes, for which she hoped to get 
 the money to purchase their evening meal, when Mary was disturbed 
 by the entrance of the agent from whom she had rented the apartment 
 in which she then resided. He unfeelingly informed her that, as she 
 
 - 
 
$4 
 
 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 owed two months' rent, if she was not able to pay him there and then, 
 she must bundle out ; and looking around and shrugging his shoulders, 
 he continued, " You will not have much trouble to move f and he 
 hoarsely laughed at his own witticism. 
 
 Mary told him that it was not in her power to pay him at that time, 
 and begged him in supplicating . tones not to turn her into the street 
 with her little ones. 
 
 He replied, "The owner of the buildings, for whom I do business, 
 demanded the rent of me, and he must either have it, or turn such 
 tenants as would not pay it into the street, so you may as well get 
 ready to bundle. If you don't have the money for me in the morning, 
 I'll have a bill on the house." » 
 
 "Who 'is the owner?" asked Mary, meekly. 
 
 " Mr. Frank Seten, No. Bond street," cried he, and he abruptly 
 
 left the house. 
 
 At the name of Frank Seten being mentioned, she shuddered, for 
 why she could not tell, and as she sat pondering ever her situation, she 
 came to the conclusion to see him, and endeavor to get permission to 
 remain. Her pride at first rebelled, as the memory of past years arose 
 before her, but she thrust it back as it ascended to her brain, with the 
 following words bitterly expressed, " What business have I with pride, 
 the drunkard's wife ?" She would have asked her old friend Will, for 
 sufficient to defray the rent, but that she well knew that he was unable 
 to assist her further, than by occasionally coming in with some provi- 
 sions. He had given her the last money with which she had paid her 
 rent, since which time, he had been sick and feeble, and as old age was 
 fast growing upon him, he had to struggle somewhat hard, to keep a 
 shelter over his family. 
 
 Night drawing on, and Jenny and our little hero having entered, by 
 their united means an humble supper was procured, of which Mrs. Fay 
 could scarcely taste, so much was her heart wrung with her misery. 
 
 When Tommy had concluded his humble meal, he took his little sister 
 from his mother's arm, and seating himself in the corner, drew the folds 
 of his torn jacket around the trembling infant, to protect it from the 
 cold, and was endeavoring to get it to eat a bit of cake, that he by 
 chance had obtaiued in his rounds, and had saved for that starving 
 child, which was perishing for the want of the nourishment, that it 
 failed to received from its mother's breast. 
 
 Mrs. Fay arose with a firm, determined air, and addressed Jenny in 
 the following words — 
 
 •' Mrs. Craigie, I have occasion to go out for a short time." 
 
 " Oh ! my dear leddy, ye manna gang out fra' the house, on sich a 
 cauld night as this ; it maun be the death o' ye." 
 
 " 1 haw occasion to go. The agent has hwn here, and informed me 
 that we must leave the house." 
 
 " Oh ! the hard-hearted carl ; he should ha' been ducked in a horse 
 pond, before he got to the house on sich a brutal errand.' 1 
 
 "They are not to blame so much as the owners of real estate, who 
 are daily seen at public meetings enforcing reform, and giving munificent 
 
THE CHI? BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 95 
 
 donations for charitable purposes, which glare and dazzle the eyes of 
 the world, gaining for them the admiration of men for their benevolence, 
 at the same time, leaving their wretched tenants in their miserable 
 abodes, at the mere}- of ruthless men (who have no sympathy for their 
 fellow creatures), instead of attending to their own business, they 
 employ others to do this disagreeable duty." 
 
 Thus saying, Mrs. Fay drew her thin, scanty robe closely around her, 
 to protect her from the cold winter's blast, and issued into the street. 
 
 In a splendidly furnished parlor, in one of those large aristocratic 
 looking buildings in Bond street, upon the evening of which we speak 
 of. there was seated around a glowing, bright coal nre in a grate, 
 which sent a genial warmth throughout the room, a family party con- 
 sisting of an old man, his son and daughter-in-law, grandson, and a 
 lonely child of charity. 
 
 'Twas the Seten family, who were without company that evening, and 
 had assembled in the parlor. 
 
 Tne beautiful Eveleen sat languidly upon the ottoman. They were 
 conversing upon the subject of their yearly donations to different chari- 
 table institutions, to which they were in* the habit of giving good 
 amounts of money to every year, as the holidays came around. 
 
 11 Why do you give those large sums, Eveleen ? Through a chari- 
 table impulse, or what ?" inquired old Seten. 
 
 " Well, I don't know, father," was the reply. " I never trouble 
 myself about the charity part of it. I leave that part of it to those 
 that receive the money from us for that purpose. Another thing, the 
 papers speak well of us, which gives us eclat among our friends," and 
 she threw herself back, as if greatly fatigued after this long speech. 
 
 "But are you sure," continued the old man, "that the money, which 
 is so lavishly bestowed upon those, whose duty is to receive it for 
 charitable purposes, is given to those for whom it was intended, or appro- 
 priated to their own use, to enrich themselves ? I believe in charities 
 given by a person's own hand to the poverty-stricken poor ; the giver 
 is assured that his object is obtained, and he is certain that they 
 are relieved." 
 
 " What say you, William ?" asked Eveleen of her son, who had been 
 listening attentively, at the same time, gazing upon the lovely counte- 
 nance 'of Rosa. 
 
 William started, and turning to his mother, lie exclaimed — 
 
 "My dear mother, I coincide with my grandfather. As I was 
 returning from Williamsburg last evening, my way led through one of 
 those streets, where misery and wretchedness abound in all their horror. 
 I observed an'-open door, where I perceived a glimmering light, which 
 depicted to my view, a scene of desolation seldom met with. Within 
 I saw an aged female, with her head drooping upon her hands, seated 
 in one corner ; in the centre of the room, upon a broken chair, sat a 
 pale faced woman, with a look of meek resignation, gazing around 
 upon the empty apartment ; upon her lap lay a sickly infant, whose 
 thin, gaunt countenance was marked with that sure passport to eternity 
 of the poor man, Poverty ; and, upon his knees, looking up into her 
 
M 
 
 THE CHIP Bj; OF THE DRY DOCK 
 
 face with tearful eyes, was a boy, some nine years old. As I was 
 about to enter, to give them a trine to relieve their wants, I heard a 
 footstep approaching. I paused for a moment, and I observed an aged 
 man coming towards me, with a basket upon his arm. I retired into 
 a recess made by the adjoining building, which projected farther into 
 the street, and there I remained until he had arrived on the spot, and 
 entered the room into which I had been looking. I then stole forth 
 from my hiding-place, and peered into the apartment. The old man 
 had placed the basket upon the floor, from which he had taken some 
 food, which he was distributing among the wretched inmates, who 
 thankfully received it, and with which they appeased their hungry 
 appetites. When all had satisfied their hungry stomachs, the fragments 
 which were left, were carefully lain aside to form the morning meal. 
 The old man knelt down among them and prayed. Thus after having 
 satisfied the wants of the body, he was administering comfort to the 
 soul. As I gazed upon this picture, and listened to his touching lan- 
 guage, which was sublime — sublime in its simplicity, a tear arose in my 
 eye, as I thought of the wretchedness unrelieved in this great city. 
 Where were all those men of reform ? where was all the money that 
 was daily given by benevolent individuals, for the relief of indigence ? 
 Why did it not reach its destination ? How was it, that there was so 
 much misery and desolation in the midst of plenty ? and the thought 
 struck me, that there was something wrottg concerning public charities. 
 
 " I was aroused from my reverie by a stir in the room. The old man 
 had risen from his knees and was taking leave of those inside. I stood 
 confronting him as he came from the house, and was about to speak to 
 him, when he adroitly slipped past me and started off at a brisk pace. 
 I followed him. determined to speak to him. On approaching him I 
 said ' Pardon me, I would speak a word with you/ " 
 
 " ' What would you with me, young sir ? ' said he, stopping, and 
 answering me in a mild tone. 
 
 " ' I would give you some money for the relief of that wretched 
 family from whom you have just come/ answered I, at the same time 
 proffering a roll of bills. 
 
 " ' My dear sir, such doings are the cause of a great deal of suffer- 
 ing, which I will plainly prove to you. Should I accept that .money, 
 how easily I could appropriate it to my own use, and leave them still 
 to suffer ; you would walk off with a lighter heart, conscious that you 
 had been the instrument of doing some good, but how deceived you 
 would be. Such deceptions are carried on each day. Bestow your 
 charities with your own hand, and God will bless you.' ; 
 
 " Saying this he bid me good evening, leaving me with the full 
 impression of the truths he uttered." 
 
 " I returned to the wretched dwelling, but found it closed. That, 
 dear mother, I think was a true aet of charity." 
 
 Eveleen had become interested in the tale, and at the conclusion she 
 said, while a tear moistened her eye, " Indeed it was, do you know 
 who that old man was, my son V 
 
 " I neglected asking his name," returned William. 
 
' THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 9t 
 
 Eveleen looked towards Rosa, and asked her what was her opinion 
 upon the subject which they were conversing upon. 
 
 " My dear madam,' 7 Rosa replied, " I fear I am not competent to 
 explain my views upon the subject." 
 
 " Do, do," they all cried. Rosa thus enjoined, began : 
 
 " Charity has been construed into so many forms, that it has lost its 
 intrinsic beauties. No charity is true that is given with a selfish 
 motive, — given with the view of obtaining the world's applause; such 
 is ostentatious charity; for Paul says, ' Though I bestow all my goods 
 to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have 
 not charity, it profiteth me nothing,' thus clearly proving that sym- 
 pathy must accompany the gift. Money given, not accompanied by 
 the purest feelings of the heart, (love for thy neighbor) caunot be 
 ascribed to anything more than alms-giving. Charity is composed of all 
 the finest feelings which are heaven-born. How the beauties of religion 
 are distorted by the unsympathizing and uncharitable feelings enter- 
 tained by one sect or creed against another. I sincerely believe there 
 is do true religion in the heart of the individual who bears hatred to 
 one of an opposite faith, for antagonism cannot dwell with love ; for 
 has not the Redeemer commanded us, to love our neighbor as we love 
 ourselves. True charity cannot be better exemplified than by the love 
 which we suppose is buried in the inmost recesses of the heart of a 
 Christian mother, as she extends her care over her tender offspring. 
 Even that is tinged with the selfish feeling, that she does her duty, 
 which mars its beauty. True charity comes nothing short of Deity. 
 That feeling which prompted our Saviour when he gave himself up to 
 suffer for a sinful world." 
 
 Rosa had risen in her anxiety to impress her auditors with the truths 
 that she uttered, and looking around upon them as she concluded, 
 she observed their admiring looks upon her ; a crimson blush over- 
 spread her face, and she retired from the room in confusion. 
 
 Just at this moment there was a ring at the bell. She hastened to 
 the door and opened it, where she observed a female whose pale shiver- 
 ing form drew words of pity from her lips. Inviting the stranger to 
 enter the hall, she asked her her business. 
 
 In a low tone the intruder said "I wish to see Mr. Frank Seten." - 
 
 Rosa bade' her wait for a moment, and went and informed that gen- 
 tleman of the woman's wish, who immediately arose and came to the 
 door. Upon arriving there he started back at beholding the features 
 of one whom he had so deeply injured. 
 
 "Mr. Seten," said the woman, "we have met before when I was in 
 better circumstances, now I am destitute. I dwell in one of your build- 
 ings, without the means of paying my rent. Your unfeeling agent has 
 given me orders to leave the premises. Should I do so, I and my 
 children will have no shelter, no home, but the public street in this 
 wintry weather. I have come to ask you permission to remain/' 
 
 She' was answered by a fiendish laugh, and then the following words: 
 " Mary Manvers, or rather Fay, it is a long time since w r e met. At our 
 parting, I uttered the word ' Beware V Too well had you reason. For 
 
 1 
 
98 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK: 
 
 know, that I am the author of all your husband's woes. 'Tvvas I that 
 led your husband] step by step, to misery, until he became a blighted 
 mass of putrefaction, a burden to himself. All this was through my 
 means, for when he became unfit for my company, I had hired agents 
 employed to drag him down to distruction. All this I have done 
 to satisfy my revenge for the blow he gave me upon the occasion of 
 our first meeting. Know then that this hour is sweeter to me than 
 every pleasure experienced by me during my whole life. The proud 
 Mary Man vers humbly asking to remain in a humble room." And he 
 again laughed hoarsely. 
 
 "No, begone, and rot in the streets upon a dunghill, if it suits you 
 best," said he. 
 
 Mrs. Fay looked at him as she said. " Then may God forgive you 
 as I do, for you have an account to render before Him of your deeds 
 done in the flesh." 
 
 On concluding those words she turned and left the door, taking her 
 lonely way through the cold blast as she traversed the streets, on her 
 way back to her wretched family. 
 
 Frank stood gazing after her for a moment, when, on turning 
 around, he was surprised to observe Rosa upon her knees before him, 
 who addressed him in the following words : 
 
 " Mr. Seteu, as you hope for mercy at the judgment seat of God, 
 grant that poor woman's request." 
 
 Frauk endeavored to thrust her out of the way, but she still clung to 
 fo\m t saying : " Do, I implore you, for the sake of her suffering child- 
 ren. Oh, only think, should your wife and son be in the same position, 
 and she humbly seeking a shelter, would you not think the man flinty- 
 .hearted that would refuse them ?" 
 
 There was something so touching in the pleading voice of the girl 
 that it raised a feeling of pity in the heart of him, where pity was never 
 felt before, and he hastily said : 
 
 " Well, well, rise. I will give orders to-morrow to my agent to let 
 them have the room rent free." 
 
 Rosa arose from her knees, exclaiming, " Bless you— bless you for 
 that !" and the family soon after retired to rest. 
 
 " Fire ! fire I fire !" rang out on the still night air, from the mouths 
 of men. Loud sounded the stroke of the district-bell, as the devouring 
 element committed its fell ravages upon all that came in its way. 
 'Twas the splendid mansion of the Setens, which had by some means 
 caught fire in the lower part. A crowd had gathered in front of it just 
 as Frank Seten and the lovely Eveleen rushed from the burning build- 
 ing, followed by William, half dressed, who, upon looking around, 
 uttered a loud cry of despair, and said, "My grandfather and Rosa 
 will perish," and was about to rush into the flames, when he was 
 caught by the hand of his father, who exclaimed : ' t 
 
 "Tis useless, William ; you will but perish yourself, without saving 
 them." . . . .- ■<• ' . 
 
 At this moment two men ran up the stoop, the toremost one 
 
 exclaiming, " Where are they Y' 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 99 
 
 They were quickly told in the back room upon the first floor. 
 
 Waiting for no further information, the man who had acted as 
 speaker dashed through the burning door followed by his companion. 
 They soon returned, the former bearing the insensible form of the old 
 man upon his shoulder, and the young girl clung to him with her arms 
 around his neck. 
 
 On approaching Frank, he deposited his burden in his arms, William 
 taking Rosa from his neck ; and the poor, miserable object who had 
 done such good service, looked up into Frank's face, and addressed him 
 in the following words : 
 
 " Won't you give me enough to get a drink ?" 
 
 What were Frank's feelings as his eyes met that look ? To gaze 
 upon the wretched being whom he had been the means of ruining, for 
 no other purpose than to gratify a feeling of revenge. That look 
 haunted him for many months. He felt in his pockets and drew forth 
 a piece of silver which he gave him, and Edward Fay, followed by 
 Crazy Tom, hastened from the spot to purchase more rum. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 The fire was soon extinguished by the Fire Department, without 
 much damage having been done. The Seten family removed to one of 
 their new buildings in the vicinity of Tomkins Square, where we shall 
 leave them for the present. 
 
 When Edward Fay started off, followed by his companion, he pro- 
 ceeded towards his home. Near to the place where he resided there 
 was one of these miserable rum-shops, where large quantities of poison 
 were daily dealt out to the miserable inhabitants that lived in the 
 neighborhood. The degraded female — degraded by the use of alco- 
 holic drinks, could be seen to enter unblushingly in the broad glare of 
 day with her bottle, and if without money, she could obtain that which 
 she came after in exchange for any article of clothing, for all and every 
 thing was fish to Old Tom's net. The poor ragged child of Mary, too 
 small to reach the top of the counter, could be seen to enter that den 
 of darkness, and go up to the bar and lisp with its infant lips the 
 acursed words, " Half-pint of brandy." And that old fiend could be 
 seen dealing out to that boy, coolly and deliberately with his murderous 
 hand, and send him home, perhaps with the instrument of death to 
 either one or the other of his wretched parents. Dear reader, is it not 
 a sickening picture ? Alas, it is too true. There are many such dens 
 in this great city, yet men will oppose the passage of a prohibitory law, 
 thereby degrading themselves by the degradation of their fellow-crea- 
 tures, for the accumulation of riches. He that can gaze upon a 
 drunken man without pity, has no self-esteem, nor does he glory in the 
 works of God. 
 
 In this before-mentioned den, Edward Fay spent much of his time, 
 
100 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 dozing away the day in moody stupidness, ever ready to drink when 
 asked. It was a remarkable thing that Crazy Tom, who always 
 accompanied him into every low vile haunt which he entered, never 
 could be induced to taste the damning poison; clearly illustrating that, 
 with his deranged and weakened intellect, he had more sense than those 
 that can boast of iheir reason. 
 
 'Twas to this place that Edward directed his steps. Upon his 
 entrance he was greeted with a scowl from old Tom, until showing the 
 piece of money, which he had received from Frank Seten, the counte- 
 nance of Tom changed to a smile, and he remarked that " sleepy Ned 
 had luck." 
 
 This drew the attention of all that were in the place upon him, who 
 nocked around him like a parcel of vampyres ready to get their 
 suckers in. 
 
 '• What will you have, my lark ?" cried Tom. 
 
 " Brandy," replied Edward. 
 
 Upon its being placed before him he poured out a tumblerful and 
 drank it off at a breath. 
 
 The rest taking it for granted that he stood treat, had all called for 
 liquors of various kinds and drank. 
 
 Upon Tom's counting heads he threw down three cents before 
 Edward, exclaiming, " That makes it right." 
 
 Fay pushed it back, saying, " It is not worth picking up. Give me 
 some more brandy." 
 
 He again filled a glass and drank it off ; he then seated himself 
 among the rest who were clustered around a small stove, passing jokes 
 with each other." 
 
 They had not been seated long when some one of them wished for 
 another drink, when Edward rose and addressed the landlord. 
 
 '•' Tom, it's getting late now, if you'll let us all have a drink we'll go 
 away quietly and peaceably. What say you ?" 
 
 " To the Devil with you. Do you suppose that I keep my liquor 
 to give away. Go get money, that's the talk. Money makes the 
 mare; go bring me money and you can have rum. I don't keep rum to 
 give to loafers. 
 
 Edward, maddened by the last-mentioned word, rushed from the 
 shop, followed by Crazy Tom. 
 
 When Mrs. Fay turned from the door of the Seten mansion she took 
 her way towards her wretched home. To be turned from it, as poor 
 as it was, at this inclement season, exposing her children to the cold, 
 caused her to shudder. Upon her arrival, she took the infant from 
 Jenny, and seated herself in her accustomed place, where it was her 
 wont to sit and rock her child, and brood over her misery. 
 
 Jenny had lain down to gain a little rest, of which she stood so much 
 in need after her daily toil. Tommy was kneeling at his mother's feet, 
 looking into the face of his little sister, whose countenance had assumed 
 a death-like pallor, laying motionless upon its mother's lap, who sat, 
 swaying her body to and fro. Her thoughts were not upon herself, 
 nor those around her ; they were with that poor, wretched, misguided 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 101 
 
 man, to whom she had closely clang, sharing his miserable life so many 
 years patiently, without a murmar. Where was he now ? 
 
 As these thoughts were busy in her mind, she heard a noise of 
 approaching footsteps. The door was rudely thrust open, and there 
 upon the threshold stood, with bloodshot eye and bloated countenance 
 (the man who should have been the protector of that family) the 
 author of their misery. 
 
 Gazing around for a moment, in search of something that he could 
 dispose of ; nothing met his view but the ring upon his wife's finger — 
 that ring which he had given to her in early life, when he, in the full 
 pride of upright manhood, had led that poor heart-broken woman to 
 the altar. 
 
 He darted forward, and seizing her hand, tore it from her ringer. 
 
 Mary, in a supplicating tone, cried, "Dear Edward, spare me that ; 
 I have retained it through all the scenes of my wretched life, even 
 when hunger assailed me and my children. I have clung to it as a 
 token which brought to my memory the few brief, sunny hours of my 
 early happiness, before the tempter came and destroyed our Eden." 
 
 Those words touched the fallen, degraded man as she uttered them, 
 and he gazed upon her pale, care-worn countenance for a momeut, with 
 a look of remorseful sorrow. At the conclusion he muttered, " 'Tis too 
 late," and hoarsely laughing, rushed from the house. He took his 
 way for the gin-shop of old Tom. Upon entering, he threw the ring 
 upon the counter, exclaiming, " There, will you give me some rum for 
 that?" 
 
 Tom picked up the ring and looked carefully at it. " It's good 
 gold," said he. " Who did you steal this from ?" 
 
 Those words still more maddened Edward, whose ruffled temper 
 could ill brook to be called a thief, and furiously springing at Tom, he 
 caught him by the throat ; a struggle now ensued. Those in the store 
 severally siding with the combatants ; some crying, " Go it Tom ;" 
 others crying, " Give it to him, Ned ; sleepy Ned for ever." 
 
 Old Tom, being the strongest, had Edward down, and was choking 
 him. At this moment, Crazy Tom, who had been looking on, sprang 
 forward and seized the ring which lay unnoticed upon the counter, at 
 the same time clutching a bottle by the neck, and before he could be 
 prevented by those that were standing around, dealt a tremendous 
 blow upon the head of the rum-seller, who, with a groan, relaxed his 
 hold upon Edward's neck, and fell back upon the floor. 
 
 "What made you do that ?" cried one of the by-stauders to Crazy 
 Tom. 
 
 He replied, pointing upwards. " The Good Man up there told me 
 to strike liiin and kill him, so that he could not poison auy more 
 people." 
 
 As he concluded those words he darted from the shop. 
 
 Edward Fay stood gazing at the dying rum-seller with folded arms, 
 as he lay upon the floor. Tom had become delirious, gazing upon 
 vacancy with distended eyes, and screaming in pitiful and supplicating 
 tones, for some person to draw a curtain before the hideous visages of 
 
102 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCE. 
 
 his victims, whom he fancied were looking with distorted and grinning 
 exultation depicted upon their countenances, at their hopes of revenge 
 upon him. 
 
 Who could envy that man his death-bed tortures for all the hidden 
 treasures that were buried in the bowels of the earth ? 
 
 While, as we have said, Edward was gazing upon this horrible 
 picture, two policemen entered, and asked, " Who was the perpetrator 
 of the bloody deed ?" 
 
 They were informed that Edward and his companion had done it. 
 
 Edward was taken, unresistingly, to the station house, and lodged 
 by himself in a cell. 
 
 Upon Crazy Tom's leaving the rum-shop, he darted with lightning 
 speed through the streets towards his home. Entering hastily, ho gave 
 the ring to Mrs. Fay, 'and crouched down in the corner w r ith a wild 
 air. The wretched wife endeavored to draw from him the whereabouts 
 of her husband, but in vain. Tom only answered by pointing towards 
 the door. 
 
 Presently, there was heard voices of men approaching, when half a 
 dozen policemen entered, and seeing Tom in tlie corner, advanced and 
 took hold of him. 
 
 Mrs. Pay inquired hurriedly of one of them what was the matter. 
 
 One of them replied. "Your husband and this fellow here (poiuting 
 at Tom) have killed a man." 
 
 She heard no more, but fell fainting upon the floor. 
 
 When she returned to consciousness the room was deserted by all 
 but herself, her boy, and old Jenny, who had taken the infant from the 
 floor upon which it had fallen when its mother had fainted. Its little 
 soul had fled to a purer world, to dwell with its God, free from the 
 miseries of this life. When Mrs. Fay had been made acquainted with 
 the fact she gazed upon it for a moment, with a countenance expressive 
 of her feelings, and imprinting one last kiss upon its little forehead, 
 seized our little hero by the hand and rushed from the house. 
 
 Edward had not long been in the cell when seating himself, he, for 
 the first time in many years, began to reflect upon the situation of his 
 family and himself. As scene after scene of his miserable eareer arose 
 to his view, he was seized with a burning, maddening pain aeross his 
 temples which caused him to cry out : 
 
 M My brain burns, as if it was broiling in molten lead, and now a 
 shivering seizes on my frame, cold as the icy hand of death. I think 
 I'm carried high up in air, through endless spaee, with magic speed. 
 Now, 1 fall towards the earth, with lightning swiftness. 1 shall be 
 dashed to atoms. Save me 1 Save me ! Help ! help ! or I 
 perish." 
 
 And he fell upon the brick floor of his prison, motionless, attacked 
 by the delirium tremens. 
 
 After remaining quiet for a few moments, he started to a sitting 
 posture, and continued — 
 
 " Hell itself could not invent a deed of half such dreadful note. 
 Inhuman devil as thou art, not content with my ruin, but you must 
 
THE CHir BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 103 
 
 drag my wife arid children to destruction. Spare them. Spare them. 
 See ! see !" 
 
 And lie pointed, in his delirium, to the opposite side of his cell, 
 crying — 
 
 " They drag them to the very brink of the precipice. Xow, they are 
 about to hurl them to the bottom. Struggle with them, Mary. Strug- 
 gle with them for a moment. Mary, Mary, I come. Oh, spare her. 
 Spare her. Alas, it is too late ! See ! see ! They hurl her off, and, 
 now, my children, they hurl them off, too. Madness ! And I not 
 there, to save them. See their mangled forms, as they descend, how 
 they strike against each projecting rock, tearing their tender flesh. 
 Xow, now, they reach the bottom, a blighted mass, there to lay and 
 blacken in the summer's sun. Fate, do your worst, life has no more 
 pleasures for me. I'll join in all kinds of horrid deeds, and laugh at 
 human misery.'' 
 
 And he laughed hysterically — a hoarse laugh — then threw himself, 
 motionless upon the floor. 
 
 Mrs. Fay, at this moment, entered the cell, with little Tommy. On 
 her perceiving the prostrate form of her husband upon the floor, she 
 advanced and knelt beside him, exclaiming — 
 
 '• Edward, dear Edward.*' 
 
 " Disturb me not, good stranger,'-' cried he : ;< I'm doomed to lay 
 upon this spot for the space of one thousand years." 
 
 11 Oh, God, have mercy upon him," cried she, " and keep his senses. 
 Edward, Edward, do you not know me?" 
 
 Edward Fay sprang to his feet, gazing into her face, and cried — 
 
 " That voice ! ,J 
 
 She asked him again, if he did not kuow her, alarmed at his wild 
 look. 
 
 " Know you ? Yes. I would know you among ten thousand, were 
 I blindfolded, could I but hear that voice. I thought you dead ; it 
 must have been some horrid fancy of my disordered brain. Hark !" 
 he cried, as if listening. " I hear the desperate mob upon my track ; 
 their voices are still ringing in my ears. Mary, let's fly to some 
 remote corner of the earth, where, all alone, we will be free from the 
 treachery of deceitful men ; where we will not be influenced by them, 
 to turn from the path of rectitude. Let us fly to some lone spot, 
 where we will not be hampered by the forms and customs of society ; 
 we can, untramelled pick out our own way, and be our own judge 
 between right and wrong. Come, I say." 
 
 " Where would you take me, deal Edward V cried the heart-broken 
 woman, thinking it was best to humor his disordered fancy. 
 
 " To some secluded spot, far from the hum of human voices, where 
 the rich and fertile earth is covered with green grass and sweet bloom- 
 ing flowers. Your couch shall be of fresh-gathered moss, soft as the 
 softest velvet cushions ; your covering be the blue ethereal sky, where, 
 each morning, you will be awakened by the sweet notes of the fea- 
 thered choristers of the grove, instead of the hateful noise of cities. 
 There, and there alone, we will be happy." 
 
104. THE CHIP BOY OF TEE DRY DOCK. 
 
 " I fear it would not be safe, dear Edward, hi that wild place," 
 cried she, sobbing, and still humoring him. 
 
 " Safe ! It would be safer to be in the wild, tempestuous ocean — 
 battling with its huge waves, with the elements combined, in all their 
 bursting fury, threatening destruction upon your devoted head ; or in 
 the dark, untrodden forest, with lions, tigers and panthers howling 
 around in savage wildness — than to be surrounded by luxurious habi- 
 tations, reared in all the arrogance of pampered pride, with vice, in all 
 its gorgeous, glittering show, to lure you on to destruction.'' 
 
 At this moment, his eyes fell upon Tommy, and, starting back, he 
 cried — 
 
 " What serpent is this, that you have brought to sting me with its 
 deadly fangs ?" And rushing to a settee that was placed against the 
 wall, he tore off one of the legs, and raising it high above his head, 
 ran towards him. 
 
 Mrs. Fay screame*d, and endeavored to protect the boy. 
 
 He stood for a moment with uplifted hand ; his eyes became glazed 
 — his countenance rigid, and fell back upon the floor a corpse, a victim 
 to revenge and the rum-seller. 
 
 Mary Fay stood for a moment, gazing upon his lifeless form, when, 
 with a loud shriek, she threw herself upon the body of him she had. 
 loved so truly, even in his degradation. Patiently had she borne her 
 misery. She had lived for him alone, and there she lay a stiffened 
 corpse, having died a broken-hearted woman. But, why is not Frank 
 Seten there, gloating with fiendish pleasure upon the success of his 
 hellish revenge ? He can no more injure them. They are beyond his 
 reach. They have gone before Him, who will, ere long, call the vil- 
 lain, likewise, to render up an account of deeds done in the flesh. 
 
 When the officials of the prison entered the cell, they observed 
 Tommy, kneeling by the dead bodies of his parents, sobbing bitterly. 
 He was taken from the cell, and, at his own request, allowed to go 
 home. 
 
 Crazy Tom was cleared of the charge of murder, by a verdict of 
 insanity, and was sent to the Lunatic Asylum. Honest Will attended 
 to the funeral of the child. And old Jenny, who had received orders 
 from the agent, to remain in the house, managed — by her own earnings 
 and the money obtained by little Tommy — to keep soul and body 
 together. But she gradually sank, becoming weak and enfeebled 
 through old age and sorrow. Herself and Tommy would, occasion- 
 ally, by the help of their old friend, manage to spare money enough to 
 defray their expenses to \isit the old woman's son, who, after having 
 been confined for some time, and showing no disposition to be refrac- 
 tory, was allowed to run at large, from ward to ward ; but, at each 
 visit of his mother, he cried piteously to be allowed to return to the 
 City, with her. 
 
 Towards the latter part of November last, Jenny, whose health hav- 
 ing rapidly failed, lay upon her bed. Tommy knelt beside her, crying. 
 
 " Don't cry, my dear boy," said she ; "I am old, and have lived a 
 long time. When I am gone don't neglect your Bible. It has been 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 105 
 
 my only comfort and consolation. It was your mother's too, and let 
 it also be yours. It is the only sure road to happiness. When every- 
 thing else fails, that will stick to you with its cheering light. When 
 your mother's old friend, Mr. Sykes, comes home, go to him — tell him 
 that I am no more. He, for the sake of the love he bore your parents, 
 will protect you." 
 
 Our little hero sobbed and cried, " Oh, I shall be so lonesome when 
 you are gone." 
 
 After thus giving advice to that poor lonely orphan, she fell into a 
 gentle slumber, from which she never awoke, thus ending a life advanced 
 to a good old age, in the service of a family to whom she had devoted 
 herself, to repay one charitable act, rendered her in early life. 
 
 Tommy, who had been seated *by the bed, upon perceiving that his 
 old friend had ceased breathing, informed the people in the next room, 
 they gave notice to the authorities who had her buried. Upon their 
 taking away the coffin from the house, Tommy was observed by one of 
 the officers sobbing in the corner, and was asked by him what he 
 intended to do. 
 
 He replied, " He did not know." 
 
 " Had you not better come with us, we will have you put on Ran- 
 dall's Island, where you will be taken care of." 
 
 Our hero dried his eyes with the sleeve of his ragged jacket, and 
 looking proudly up into the officer's face, he said, " My mother has 
 told me that my grandfather nobly fought iu defence of that Indepen- 
 dence which our country now enjoys. I am an American boy, and 
 likewise have a feeling of independence which I would enjoy. Should 
 I go to Randall's Island, I would be placed under restriction. I am 
 able to procure a living for myself. Our charitable institutions are 
 already filled to overflowing." 
 
 "You are a noble boy,'' said the officer, '• and should you find any 
 difficulty in getting along, you can then go to where I mentioned." 
 
 Leaving Tommy, as he concluded, he departed up the street to over- 
 take the cart, in which were the remains of old Jenny on their way 
 to Potter's Field. 
 
 Our hero now being alone, he sat down and cried bitterly for some 
 time, at length, he began to consider which was his best course to pur- 
 sue. Honest Will had gone with his family to Philadelphia to see a 
 distant relative of his wife's, some two weeks previous to the demise 
 of old Jenny. Tommy knew that he would be received with a hearty 
 welcome into his family were he home. But something was to be 
 done, and that quickly, for he could not endure the thought of remain- 
 ing alone in that room. He sold the few remaining articles of furni- 
 ture to the woman who lived in the next room, for a few shillings and 
 sallied out to look for a boarding-place. 
 
 After traversing the streets for a long time, stopping at the door of 
 several houses where boarders were taken, but who upon looking at 
 his wretched appearance, in answer to his inquiry, with a shrug of the 
 shoulders cried, " No," at length he came to a basement, where he 
 saw upon a piece of board hanging over the door, the word lodgings, 
 written with chalk. • 
 
106 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 It was a horrid looking place. The landlady, Mrs. Brown, observed 
 Tommy looking through the upper part of the door which was of glass, 
 she beckoned to him. Upon his entrance she asked him what he 
 wanted. 
 
 He informed her that he was in search of a boarding-place, and 
 seeing a sign above the door, signifying that lodgings could be obtained 
 there, that he was on the poiut of entering, when she called him. 
 
 "Yes/' she replied, "I keep a lodging house, but if you want to 
 board I suppose I can accommodate you." 
 
 11 How much do you charge a week, ma'am ? " asked our hero. 
 
 " Well," replied she, looking at him sharply, " I suppose I can let 
 you come for ten shilliugs, but have you no parents." 
 
 "No, ma'am," replied Tommy, with a quivering lip. 
 
 " What do you do for a living ?" 
 
 " I sell chips," replied Mrs. Brown. 
 
 " Yery well," and she turned to attend to her duties. 
 
 Tommy now had time to look around him, and he shuddered as the 
 different objects of misery met his eye. There were men and women 
 of all colors, seated around the room. In the corner there lay a 
 wretched object beastly intoxicated, with his face covered with blood, 
 cursing some one who had injured him. 
 
 Mrs. Brown ran at him and kicked him in the face, crying, " Hush 
 your drunken jaw, you old fool and go to sleep." 
 
 A dirty looking woman, seated upon a broken chair, beckoned to 
 Tommy, who crossed over to her, when she accosted him in the follow- 
 ing language, " Me darlint, if ye'll jist be afther goiiv over to the 
 corner, and bring me a gill of gin, I'll give you a penny for yourself." 
 At the same time offering money and a bottle to him. 
 
 Tommy excused himself by saying that he had not time, upon which 
 he left the cellar, and returned to his former abode to get his basket, 
 that he might be in readiuess to commence his work the next 
 morning. 
 
 He was surprised in the evening, to see those in the house send out 
 for their meals, some getting bread and butter, according to their taste 
 or means. v\While others, who not having money, were forced to go 
 supperless, gazed with hungry faces as the fortunate ones devoured 
 their meals. 
 
 Mrs. Brown gave Tommy a slight supper, and told him he might go 
 to bed as soon as he liked. 
 
 Upon receiving this information, our hero, in a gentle voice, asked 
 where his bed could be found. 
 
 She laughingly replied, " Any where you like. Pick out the softest 
 plank you can find." 
 
 Tommy retired into a corner, and seated himself apart from the rest, 
 to brood over his lonely situation ; but as night drew on, the scenes 
 enacted before him became disgusting to him, and he arose and left the 
 cellar. He took his way down to the dock, where he seated himself, 
 looking into the water, where he remained until a late hour. 
 
 Upon returning to his boarding-house, he enured, but what a sight 
 met his view ! men and women, who had become insensible, from the 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 10? 
 
 effects of ardent spirits, strewed promiscuously about the floor, with no 
 regard to decency. Tommy picked his way among them, aud reached 
 the remotest corner, where, lying down,. after a long time he managed to 
 sink into a slumber, forgetting for awhile his misery. He was aroused 
 early by Mrs. Brown, who, giving him his breakfast, sent him off to 
 begin his day's work. 
 
 One day, in his rounds, not being very fortunate in disposing of his 
 load of chips, he had wandered farther than usual. The weather was 
 very cold, and his bare feet, which were greatly chapped, were bleeding 
 profusely. When in the vicinity of Tompkins square, as he was passing 
 a very large. house, crying " Here's your pitch-pine chips," he observed 
 a young girl standing in the door. He humbly asked her if she wanted 
 any chips. As she gently answered "Xo," their eyen met, and they 
 stood gazing at each other for some time. 
 
 The girl called him up upon the stoop, and asked him if he had no 
 shoes. Upon being answered in the negative, she beckoned him to 
 follow her. 
 
 She conducted him into the kitchen, and bid him be seated, and warm 
 his feet. 
 
 Doing as she desired, Tommy was soon comfortably seated, awaiting 
 the return of Rosa, for it was she who had gone up stairs, and soon 
 returned with a pair of William Seten's shoes, which she bid Tommy 
 put' on, first giving a pair of warm stockings to him. She next went to 
 the larder, and returned with some food, which she gave him. 
 
 While Tommy sat eating, she seated herself opposite to him, gazing 
 upon his face, seemingly much interested in scanning his countenance. 
 
 Having satisfied his hunger, Tommy gratefully looked up into her 
 eyes. 
 
 Rosa asked him if he had no father nor mother. 
 
 He shook his head in answer. 
 
 "Then you are an orphan, like myself; but you have had the hap- 
 piness of having seen your parents. You can remember their kind 
 looks. I have not that pleasure. I have never known mine f and 
 she wiped away a tear. " How long have they been dead V 
 
 11 About one year," cried Tommy, as the tears ran down his cheeks. 
 
 Tommy here related to Rosa the horrible death of his parents in the 
 prison. Rosa remembered having been informed by William Seteu of 
 the death of the poor drunkard who had saved the lives of his grand- 
 father and herself, and likewise of the death of the poor woman, for 
 whom she had, upon her knees, obtained permission from Frank Seteu 
 to remain a tenant in her miserable abode. 
 
 Upon Tommy's concluding his tale of sorrow, she exclaimed, " I have 
 seen both your father and mother ;" and Rosa related to him the 
 occurrences of that eventful night, and she spoke of the pity she felt 
 while gazing upon the pale face of his mother. 
 
 Tommy remarked, that he was in the habit of passing his evenings 
 seated upon the dock at the foot of Third street, gazing into the water, 
 where sometimes he fancied that he could discover the face of his 
 angelic mother in the clear blue waters. 
 
108 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 Thus those two orphans conversed, until Tommy arose to go, when 
 Rosa paid him for his chips. As she did so, she said that she did not 
 want them, but that she had detained him from selling them. 
 
 Tommy refused to take the money, without she took the chips ; 
 when, seeing him determined, she bid him throw them into the wood- 
 house. As he was about to leave, she asked him to come again the 
 next day. After promising that he would, he left the house. 
 
 It was upon the following morning, about one, that the occur- 
 rence happened to our little hero which we have related in the first 
 chapter, and which led to his being taken care of by those benevolent 
 men. As near as we can recollect, it was on the Saturday following 
 the meeting of Rosa and Tommy, that Crazy Tom, who had become 
 uneasy at not seeing his mother and our little hero, by some means 
 affected his escape from the Asylum, and travelled on foot to the 
 city. 
 
 Rosa looked anxiously for little Tommy on the next day. She felt 
 a great interest in his welfare, for which she could not account. She 
 had mentioned his lonely situation to old Mr. Seten, and had obtained 
 permission from him to engage him as an errand-boy. But each suc- 
 ceeding day passed, without his appearance. He had called at the 
 door, in his lonely walk, and inquired for her, but the servant who 
 came to the door, seeing his dirty, ragged appearance, had driven him 
 from the house. 
 
 On the before-mentioned day, she had become determined to seek for 
 him. Remembering that he had informed her that in the eveniugs he 
 usually sat until a late hour upon the wharf, gazing into the water, 
 she that evening requested William to accompany her, who readily 
 assented, and they took their way for the dock, about nine o'clock. 
 
 Upon their arrival, they looked in vain for Tommy. As she stood 
 looking into the river, she too fancied that she could see the pale face 
 of a female looking up at her. The tide was running very strong, 
 which caused Rosa to feel a dizziness, who, in her anxiety to see the 
 face plainer, had reached far over the dock, when losing her balance, 
 she, with a loud scream, fell headlong into the river, 
 
 William immediately plunged after her. Having caught hold of her, 
 he clung to the wharf, and loudly called for help. 
 
 Our young hero, who was comfortably seated by the stove conversing 
 with honest Will, upon hearing the. scream of a female, started up and 
 darted from the house, followed by old Will. The cries of William 
 acted as a guide, ne soon reached the wharf, when he saw at a glance 
 the position of those iu the water. On looking around, lie observed 
 the end of a rope which was fastened to one of the spiles ; he seized it 
 and plunged head foremost into the water ; but, unfortunately, his head 
 came in contact with a log that was floating on the tide, upon which 
 he fractured his skull ; but, before he became unconscious, he had 
 reached William, who had observed his head strike the log. He 
 grasped the rope from the hand of Tommy, and quickly bound it around 
 him and Rosa, and looking upon the dock, he observed a man and 
 vvoman, to w r hom he cried out to draw them up. Acting as they were 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 109 
 
 ordered, by their united efforts they managed to pull Rosa and our 
 hero up, aud landed them safely upon the dock. 
 
 William soon clambered up, and upon examining the injured boy 
 they found that he was bleeding profusely. Honest Will placed him 
 upon his shoulders, and was about to take him to his own home, when 
 Rosa begged him to carry Tommy to the residence wherein she dwelt, 
 that she might be enabled to attend to him herself. Her request being- 
 seconded by William, honest Will after some hesitation agreed, and 
 being directed by them, he took his way for Tompkins Square, followed 
 by Mrs. Brown, for it was her who had been attracted to the spot by 
 the cries of those in the water. 
 
 Upon their arrival, honest Will was ordered to lay his burthen, upon 
 a sofa. Rosa kneeled down by him and took his hand. The door 
 being left open, our old friend, Crazy Tom, who had been wandering 
 in vain to find his friends, and was passing took a notion to enter. 
 The first person that met his view upon his entering the room of Rosa 
 was old Seten, when he gave that peculiar yell with which he had so 
 often startled the old man. 
 
 Seten staggered back exclaiming, "That voice again." 
 
 The eyes of Crazy Tom next fell upon the kneeling girl, whose dress 
 was displaced from her neck, showing the impression of a strawberry 
 upon her left shoulder. Tom with a bound sprang to her side crying, 
 " My strawberry ! I've 'found my strawberry."' 
 
 " Merciful Heaven! 'tis the lost child of Edward Fay," cried honest 
 Will, " I know her by that mark. Tom is right, I too have noticed it 
 before in her infancy." 
 
 ''• Then Heaven be praised !" exclaimed old Seten. " I have lived 
 long enougli to do one act -of reparation, that of restoring to the heir 
 of old Mr. Graham, the fortune that has been detained from its right- 
 ful owners too long." 
 
 Old Will now informed Rosa, or Charlotte, as we will how call her, 
 that the poor bleeding boy before her was her brother. 
 
 As she hung sobbing over him, she exclaimed : 
 
 "Then I too have seen my parents amid the crackliwg flames of the 
 destroying fire. I clung to the neck of my poor father, unknowing and 
 unknown, when he was sent by a merciful Providence to save me 
 from destruction ; and my mother, my poor mother I" 
 
 A.8 the remembrance of that night came upon her she sobbed as if 
 her heart would break. 
 
 Tommy with an effort, took her by the haud, and in a low voice 
 said : 
 
 " Sister, dear sister, weep not for her, she is even now rejoicing in 
 that far off mansion of the blest, at this the meeting of her orphan 
 children upon earth. Charlotte weep not for me, I am happy, believe 
 me. although our parting comes so soon after having become aware of 
 each other's existance ; 'twill be but for a short space of time when we 
 will be reunited in Heaven, free from the cares and troubles of this 
 earth. Believe me, dear sister, 'tis happiness to die conscious of having 
 thy haud to smoothe my pillow.'' 
 
110 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DKY DOCK. 
 
 At this moment they were all startled by a female voice, exclaiming, 
 " Charles Grafton, there is another one to whom you owe reparation." 
 
 The eyes of all present turned upon Mrs. Brown, who was standing 
 in the buck-ground, with a pistol presented at the head of George 
 Seteu. 
 
 '•Receive the reward due to you from one you have so grossly 
 injured/' she exclaimed. 
 
 As she was in the act of hiring, Charlotte sprang towards her, and 
 with a blow she knocked the pistol from her hand : it fell upon the 
 floor without injury to any person. 
 
 Charlotte cried, " Woman, would you be a murderess ¥■ 
 
 " I would have revenge/' cried Mrs. Brown. 
 
 "Revenge belongs to the Most High." cried Charlotte. "Turn 
 your thoughts upon Him." 
 
 " Girl, 1 was once as young and fair as thou art. I knew no harm ; 
 but I was ruined by that villain, have I not cause to seek revenge ?" 
 
 At this moment the door opened, and Frank Seten and Eveleen 
 entered, having rushed from their room at the noise of the pistol. Mrs. 
 Brown turned, and observed him, when she cried, " Ha, George 
 Hastings. See, there stands my enemy." 
 
 " Impossible !" cried Frank, "'tis my father." 
 
 "Your father!'' cried she, turning to the old man, "is that boy 
 your son ?" 
 
 " He is, Louisa Smith, and your son likewise." 
 
 " How is this ? I am bewildered. Is not your name Mrs. Lisle?" 
 asked Frank. 
 
 "It is," cried she. "I am Louisa Smith, Mrs. Lisle and Mrs. 
 Brown. I have changed names at various stages of my life, to obtain 
 the one great end for which I have lived — Revenge! Is that woman 
 your wi» ?" continued she, to Frank Seten, who nodded in the 
 affirmative. 
 
 " Ha! ha ! ha !" and she turned to old Seten. " Behold the effects 
 of your villainy ! your son married to your daughter. Why, Eveleen, 
 my darling, how do you do?" and as the bloated hag approached her, 
 Eveleen turned from her in disgust. 
 
 Frank Seten approached his father saving, "Does this woman speak 
 the truth?" 
 
 " She does. She is your mother." 
 
 Frank cried, "And I have wed my own sister? Horrid, horrid!" 
 and he rushed froiu the house. 
 
 " Louisa, we are both now old. L am willing to make reparation, 
 as far as 1 am able," said old Seten. 
 
 " Can you bring back my innocence ? Can you bring back my poor 
 silly mother'/ din you bring back my peace of mind? Bring these 
 back, and then talk of reparation," cried Louisa. 
 
 William now observed, looking at Charlotte — 
 
 " Dear Charlotte, you will now despise me. I having this stain upon 
 my birth." 
 
 " Never I" answered the noble girl; and placing her hand in his, con- 
 
THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRV DOCK. Ill 
 
 tinued, " you loved the poor orphan, and were her friend. She does not 
 forget it." ^ 
 
 li For the sake of those wo children, I will unfold that, which other- 
 wise would have been buried with me in the grave. Eveleen Gray is 
 not my daughter. She is the child of a frail sister of misfortune who 
 was kind to me, and gave me a shelter when I was homeless, upon her 
 death, I adopted her child." 
 
 " Thank heaven !" cried old Seten. " That sin is off my soul." 
 
 At this moment the doctor arrived, who had been sent for. Upon 
 examining Tommy's wound, he pronounced his case hopeless. 
 
 Our hero at this moment, opened his eyes, and they met those of 
 Charlotte, who cried, "My dear brother." 
 
 Tommy smiled, and placed his hand in hers, then looking up, he 
 murmured — 
 
 ■■ What a glorious sight." 
 
 u What see you, Tommy ?" anxiously asked Honest Will, hanging 
 over him. 
 
 " My dream, my dream, with one exception," said Tommy. 
 
 " What is that," asked Will. 
 
 " My poor deluded father saved* and his destroyer punished." 
 
 He said no more, his eyes became fixed. He was a corpse. 
 
112 THE CHIP BOY OF THE DRY DOCK. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 I have but very little more to say, dear reader. Old Seten married 
 Louisa Smith, as au act of justice, and she is now, through the united 
 influence of William and Charlotte, become a convert to the true faith, 
 and lives contentedly with the old man. William discovered in honest 
 Will, the charitable old man whom he had witnessed relieving the dis- 
 tressed family of Edward Fay. .Charlotte aud himself as a reward 
 placed his family in comfortable circumstances. It is a pleasant sight 
 to see the trio as they traverse the streets at night, seeking aud reliev- 
 ing misery, and inducing the drunkard to reform. 
 
 Frank Seten has never been heard of. It is supposed that horror- 
 struck, at the thought of marrying his own sister, he took passage 
 for California, in the San Francisco, and was among the number lost 
 in that ill-fated ship. Eveleen grieves for his loss, but is becoming 
 somewhat reconciled. William and Charlotte intend to be married as 
 soon as they arrive at a proper age. Crazy Tom was taken back to 
 the asylum much against his will, where his fretfulness has caused him 
 to be confiued to his own ward ; but it is the intention of Charlotte to 
 try to gain his release, believing that he will be quite harmless when 
 with her. 
 
 Harry Courtland, the murderer of Mr. Jennings, the ruined mer- 
 chant, who affected his escape on that eventful night, is supposed to 
 have become one of those Southern adventurers, under an assumed 
 name, as no trace of him has become known to the authorities-. 
 
 And now, dear reader, having to the best of my ability, traced out 
 the line of true charity, and pointed to that which is false, and having 
 related the short-lived career of "The Chip Boy of the Dry Dock," 
 I will, with the best of wishes for your prosperity, take my leave. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 \