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Sayings for Farmers.

BY DR. FRANKLIN.

fiery-eyed steeds' to the Ram Inn, at New-|| mailed; but on their arriving at the post office in market, which was most happily at hand, and this city and being found to be double, or treble, He that lives upon hope will die fasting-to this his lordship's most fervent prayers and we have the same amount, or twice or thrice the industry need not wish. amount, to pay over again. When the remittance is large, the per cent, to be deducted from it thus, for postage is trifling, and we do not complain;

There are no gains without pains.
At the working man's house hunger looks

in but never enters.

Plough deep while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn to sell or keep.

ejaculations had been ardently directed.
Into the yard they bounded, to the dismay of
ostlers and stable boys, who seemed to have
lost every faculty upon the occasion. Here
they were luckily overpowered, and the stags,
the phaeton, and his lordship, were all instan-
taneously huddled together in a barn, just as

One to-day is worth two to-morrows.
Handle your tools without mittens-a cat the hounds appeared in full cry at the gate.
in gloves catches no mice.

He that by the plough would thrive,
Himself must either hold or drive.

The eye of the master will do more work
than both his hands. Not to oversee work-
men is to leave them your purse open.
A fat kitchen makes a lean will.

A BEGGAR Some time ago applied for alms at the door of a partisan of the Anti-begging Society. After in vain detailing his manifold sorrows, the inexorable gentleman peremptorily dismissed him. Go away,' said he, go,|| we canna gie ye naething.' 'You might at

If you would be rich, think of saving as well least,' replied the mendicant, with an air of arch dignity, have refused me grammatically.' as getting.

What maintains one vice would train up two children.

If you would know the value of money, go and try to borrow some-for he that goes borrowing goes sorrowing.

but when it is small, as in most cases, we must in justice to ourselves deduct the amount we pay for postage, giving credit only for the remainder.

Letters Containing Remittances,

Received at this Office, ending Wednesday last.
N. Clark, Milton, N. Y. $1; H. Sumner, P. M. Stock-
bridge, Ms. $2; T. F. King, Portsmouth, N. H. $1; L.
Knight, Esperance, N. Y. $1; Sherrill & Reed, Salisbury
Center, N. Y. $1; G. Young, Eatonville, N. Y. §1; E. C.
Baker, Lyme, N. H. $1; H. Grandy, Glenn's Falls, N. Y.
84; F. E. Williams, Ashfield, Ms. $1; J. Jackson P. M.
Mann's Ville, N. Y. 81; G. Page, Honesdale, Penn. $1; E.

Chase, Allen's Hill, N. Y. $2; L. Bunker, Rochester, N.
Y. $5 A. F. Miller, Gallatin, N. Y. $1; J. M. Wheeler,

P. M. Greenfield Center, N. Y. $2; T. P. Wood, Gardner,
Ms. $1; A. S. Cobb, Woodbourne, N. Y. $1; C. N. Allen,
Sturbridge, Ms. $1; S. Hunt, Chatham 4 Corners N. Y.
82; B. Cook, Fitchburgh, Ms. $5; A. Beeman, Addison,
N. Y. $1; J. C. Hooker, Sandusky, N. Y. $1; C. J. Johnson,
P. M. Champion South Road $2; S. Andres, Chambly, L.
Bern, N. Y. 81; E. Beckley, Canaan, Ct. 81: E. Stanton,
C. $1; M G. Clapp, Watertown, N. Y. §1; A: W. Allen,
Russia, N. Y. $1; D D. T. Clearshall, Trenton Falls, N. Y.
$1; H. Stewart, Burdett, N. Y. $0,62; A. H. Curtis,
Howard, N. Y. $2; B. G. Kenerson, South Eaton, N. Y.
80,90; W. Adam, Canaan, Ct. $1; H. Bailey, & Mr. Sel-
kirk, Albany, N. Y. $2; C. Heimstreet, Lansingburgh, N.
Y. 86; D. R. Shayer, Bainbridge, N. Y. $0.87 T. C.
Caldwell, Fitchburg, Ms. 81; J. E. Stearns, Castleton, N.
Y. $2; H. Loop, Great Barrington, Ms. $5; J. B. Davis,
Caseville, N. Y. 83,94; W. Lord, jr. Saratoga Springs, N.

A HAPPY RETORT.-The obscurity of Lord Beware of little expenses, a small leak will Tenterden's birth is well known; but he had sink a great ship. too much good sense to feel any false shame on that account. We have heard it related of him, that when, in an early period of his pro-Y. $0,90. fessional career, a brother barrister, with whom Pride is as loud a beggar as want, and a he happened to have a quarrel, had the bad great deal more saucy. taste to twit him of his origin, his manly and Pride breakfasted with plenty, dined with severe answer was, 'Yes, Sir, I am the son of poverty, and supped with infamy.

Lying rides on debt's back.

It is hard for an empty bag to stand upright. If you do not hear reason she will surely rap your knuckles.

A ploughman on on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees.

a barber; if you had been the son of a barber,
you would have been a barber yourself.'

The Rural Repository.

SATURDAY, JUNE 22, 1833.

POSTAGE. Our complaints, in regard to the Anecdote of the late Lord Orford. Postage of Letters addressed to us, have been few; but as we find the evil is increasing on us beyond No man ever sacrificed so much time, or so much property, on practical or speculativement of a new volume a proper time to remind our ability to bear, we consider the commencesporting, as the late Earl of Orford. Among our friends that all letters, hereafter addressed to his experiments of fancy, was a determination us, must be post paid to receive attention. They to drive four red-deer stags in a phaeton, will see the necessity of this regulation when instead of horses, and these he had reduced they consider that with our limited subscription to perfect discipline for his excursions and a neglect of paying postage on one half or even short journeys upon the road; but, unfortu- one fourth, of the letters we are daily receiving nately, as he was one day driving to New-subjects us to a heavy tax, while, were it divided market, their ears were saluted with the cry among the individuals themselves, it would be of a pack of hounds, which, soon after cross- but trifling. We are often called upon to pay ing the road in the rear, caught scent of the 25 cents postage for a letter coming from a four in hand,' and commenced a new kind distance, when-lo! and behold!-it contains of chase, with 'breast-high' alacrity. The merely an order for one volume of our paper, novelty of this scene was rich beyond descrip- and provided the numbers are regularly sent, tion: in vain did his lordship exert all his according to order, we may have the pleasure of charioteering skill-in vain did his well-trained paying 50 cents more, sometime in the course of the grooms energetically endeavor to ride before year, for another letter, containing the amount of subscription, making in the whole them; reins, trammels, and the weight of the 75 cents postage to obtain the paltry sum of one carriage, were of no effect, for they went with dollar-From such patronage good Lord deliver the celerity of a whirlwind; and this modernus -Again, our friends should know that letters Phaeton, in the midst of his electrical vibra-enclosing bills, are subject to double, or treble tions of fear, bid fair to experience the fate of postage, according to the number enclosed. We his namesake. Luckily, however, his lordship receive many letters that are marked paid, that had been accustomed to drive this set of is single postage has been paid on them when

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SUMMARY.

The Saratoga Sentinel states that the number of pas

sengers over the Saratoga and Schenectady rail road, during the month of April, was 1240, being more than four times the travel between the two places than during any former month so early in the season.

An extraordinary entry was recently made at the Loudon Custom House-forty-one chests of bullion from China. The St. Johns (New Brunswick) Observer announces the death of Mr. Paul, who was wounded at the battle of Lexington, and fired the first gun on the British side on that memorable day.

The Postmaster General has instructed that each mail carrier may carry single papers to persons on the route not in the immediate vicinity of a post office.

The cause of temperance has received an additional convert. The Tontine Coffee House, New-York, on the 1st inst. promulgated, by advertisement, its abhorrence of the sale of ardent spirits, and its intention thenceforth to

discontinue it.

The foundation ground of the Girard College for Orphans, was opened on Monday the 3d inst. It is expected that the corner stone will be laid at no remote period.

MARRIED,

In this city, on the 6th instant, at Christ's Church, by the Rev. Mr. Andrews, Jacob A. Howard, merchant of NewYork, to Miss Jane A. Norman, of this city.

On Monday evening last, by the Rev. Thomas Sawyer, the Rev. William Whittaker, to Miss Jane E. Miller, daughter of the late Cornelius Miller, Esq. both of this city. On the same evening, by the Rev. Mr. Whittaker, Mr. William Carpenter, to Miss Mary Hallenbeck, daughter of William Hallenbeck, Esq. both of this city.

DIED,

In this city, on the 17th inst. James Decker, aged 16

years.
On the 18th inst. Catharine Elton, daughter of E. V. V.

Elton, aged 15 days.

At Kinderhook, on the 4th inst. Mr. Barton Flagler, in the 68th year of his age. patriot of the Revolution.

At Coeymans, Levi Braisdell, Esq. aged 76 years, a

At New-York, on the 1st inst, the Hon. Oliver Wolcott, aged 74 years.

At Troy, on the 1st inst. Eliza M. wife of A. Van Pelt, jr.
aged 32 years.
and daughter of Stephen Andres, at her father's residence,

the 82d year of his age, a Patriot of the Revolution.
At Hillsdale, on the 10th inst. Maj. William Jordan, in

On the 31st ult. on her passage from Mobile, where she had been for the benefit of her health, Mrs. Mary Center, wife of Robert Center, Esq. of New-York.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

For the Rural Repository.

From the Boston Lyceum.

The Father's Choice.

In the year 1697, a body of Indians attacked the town of Haverhill, Mass. and killed and carried into captivity 40 inhabitants. A party of the Indians approached the house of an individual, who was abroad at his labor, but who on their approach hastened to the house, sent his children out, and ordered them to fly in a course opposite to that in which danger was approaching. He then mounted his horse, and determined to snatch up the child with which he was most unwilling to part, when he should overtake the little flock. When he came up to them, about 200 yards from his house, he was unable to make a choice, or to leave any one of the number. He therefore determined to

Lines written on the Death of a Young take his lot with them, and defend them from their

Friend.

He has passed away from life and earth,
From the festival of youthful mirth;
In the ardent pride of ripening worth,
He has gone from the view of mortal eyes,
Like a passing cloud in the summer skies.

He has passed, and he shall never come
From the desolate and lonely tomb,
To the waving fields and the gardens bloom,
To the arms of her who gave him birth,
To his sister's smile, to his cheerful hearth.

He has passed away from the eager race
For the pinnacle of power and place,
For the trumpet and laurel of human praise-
That trumpet can never awake the dead,
That laurel shall never surround his head.

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OH! how I love to see the soft wind play
On the broad green field, or the sloping hill,
With freshness and life around its way-
Cool as the dash of a mountain rill;
Starting into life the sultry day-
Oh!-how I love the soft wind's play.

Upon yonder hill-yon sideling hill—
Spreads a patch of grain in the breast of a wood,
And around its edge, rising dark and still,
The pines stand about in their solitude;—
"Twas a beautiful field,
and gay,
green
When the wind arose for a summer play.

And shade followed shade like the swells of the sea,

And light followed light like the billows foam, Chasing each other on swiftly and free

Till broke where the shade of the pine was thrown;

Give me the wind and sunny ray
In such a spot on a summer day.

The bright green leaves in the shady grove
Quiver and shake as they feel thy breath,
And a freshening song of holy love
Wanders around the cooling depth;—

High above, beats the scorching ray,
In the leaves below thou art at play. X.

murderers, or die by their side. A body of the Indians pursued, and came up with him; and when at a short distance, fired on him and his little company. He returned the fire, and retreated alternately; still however, keeping a resolute face to the enemy, and so effectually sheltered his charge, that he finally lodged them all safe in a distant house.

Now fly, as flies the rushing wind-
Urge, urge thy lagging steed!

The savage yell is fierce behind,

And life is on thy speed.

Quick from those dear ones make thy choice-The group he wildly eyed,

When father burst from every voice,

And child his heart replied.

There's one that now can share his toil, And one he meant for fame,

And one that wears her mother's smile,
And one that bears her name.

And one will prattle on his knee,
Or slumber on his breast,
And one whose joys of infancy,
Are still by smiles expressed.
They feel no fear while he is near;
He'll shield them from the foe;
But oh his ear must thrill to hear
Their shriekings, should he go.

In vain his quivering lips would speak,
No words his thoughts allow;
There's burning tears upon his cheek,
Death's marble on his brow.

And twice he smote his clenched hand-
Then bade his children fly!
And turned, and e'en that savage band
Cowered at his wrathful eye.

Swift as the lightning winged with death,
Flashed forth the quivering flame!
Their fiercest warrior bows beneath
The father's deadly aimn.

Not the wild cries that rend the skies,
His heart or purpose move;
He saves his children or he dies
The sacrifice of love.

Ambition goads the conqueror on,
Hate points the murderer's brand-
But love and duty, these alone,

Can nerve the good man's hand.

The hero may resign the field,

The coward murd'rer flee; He cannot fear, he will not yield, That strikes, sweet love, for thee.

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James F. Whitney, Albany-T. Netterville, Athens-Homer Strong, Alexander-O. P. Baldwin, Tompkin's VilleJ. J. Frisbee, Bern-B. A. Manchester, Buffalo -Charles S. Willard, Catskill-John Dingman, Claverack-Bailey Underhill, Cortland Town-Philip Teats, Freehold-Win. M. Bunker, Ghent-Morgan L. Fitch, Henrietta-Warner D. Shaw, Jamestown-Isaac Thompson, Kingston-Nathan T. Burr, Kingsboro'-John M'Kinstry, Livingston-Edmund Elmendorph, Redhook-C. B. Griffin, Little FallsC Heimstreet, Lansingburg-Solon Spencer, Persia-Willard Luce, Phelps-George Chittenden, jr. StockportCharles W. Bentley, Columbiaville-Julius Bolles, Schenectady-James M. Spencer, Smithton-E. Dunham Baker, Sandy Hill-David H. Wellington, Troy-H. Barnum, Utica -D. S. Kittle, Union Village-J. Clark, Unadilla Forks-C. Reed, Union Society-John H. Jenkins, West PointSamuel H. Norton, Lowville-Linus Hoyt, South SalemW. C. Benjamin, Fayetteville-H. Grandy, Glen's FallsL. Bunker, Rochester.

Massachusetts.

Israel Dewey, Alford-Rufus M. Newton, Ashfield-John G. Williams, Deerfield-A. Hitchcock, HousatonicvilleHenry Loop, Great-Barrington-Major Algar, HartsvilleBenjamin F. Whitney, Harvard-J. B. Ives, Hadley Upper Milis-John G. Stanley, jr. Lenox-Simon H Ailen, Shrewsbury-Loring Dudley, Richmond-T. C. Caldwell, & B. Cook, Fitchburgh-S. G. Hadley, Hallenbeck's Connecticut.

John R. Butler, Branford - Rufus Forrester, Bald Hill — George C. Wilson, New-London - Edwin W. Jones, Tariff ville-Horace Leet, Madison.

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THE RURAL REPOSITORY

IS PUBLISHED EVERY OTHER SATURDAY, AT HUDSON, N. Y. BY Wm. B. Stoddard.

It is printed in the Quarto form, and will contain twentysix numbers of eight pages each, with a title page and index to the volume.

TERMS.-One Dollar per annum in advance, or One Dollar and Fifty Cents, at the expiration of three months from the time of subscribing. Any person, who wil remit us Five Dollars, free of postage, shall receive siz copies, and any person, who will remit us Ten Dollars, free of postage, shall receive twelve copies and one copy of the ninth volume. No subscriptions received for less than one year.

All Orders and Communications must be post paid to receive attention.

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DEVOTED TO POLITE LITERATURE, SUCH AS MORAL AND SENTIMENTAL TALES, BIOGRAPHY, TRAVELING SKETCHES, POETRY, AMUSING MISCELLANY, ANECDOTES, &c. VOL. X.-I. NEW SERIES.] HUDSON, N. Y. SATURDAY, JULY 6, 1833.

SELECT TALES.

From the Westchester Spy.
Lucy Belden.

NEW-YORK, as every body knows, has, within a few years, undergone great and extraordinary changes. During the revolutionary war it was comparatively but a little nucleus of buildings grouped together on the lower part of the Island which it has since bid fair to cover. Still, however, it was a city, and as such the scene of business, bustle, and amusement. Multitudes were passing to and fro in different directions, with different costumes, different motives, and no doubt very different feelings. With all these individuals, some of whom were in rags and some strutting in the full splendor of British uniforms, we have at present nothing to do, and shall therefore retire into the suburbs to notice a couple that seem to be more worthy of our attention. The gentleman was a genteel, well dressed personage, rather beyond the meridian of life, and as he passed the different epaulettes in his way to the city, he tipped his hat with that self possession and grace which, in that day indicated more than at present, the high rank he held in society. He was accompanied by a sprightly, restless girl, who might have been of the age of ten or eleven years. She was richly dressed, the tones of her voice, as she occasionally addressed her father with the volubility of a child, were soft and sweet as the carols of the sylvan songsters in her native land, and her little form, as she danced about her parent, like the penon of a ship playing in the light breeze about the staff that supports it, now holding him by the hand, and now running before or behind him, and now darting from his side to gather the wild-flowers that ornamented the margin of the road, exhibited all the grace and loveliness of a beautiful child polished by the advantages of carly tuition and good society.

NO. 3. members thought to be opposed to the Royal || the yard which had been used for the safe cause it had been wrested from them and keeping of the sexton's tools and the burial devoted to military purposes and now contained apparatus of the church, and taking from his a host of poor sufferers, who were not only pocket a bunch of keys he selected one of a enduring the reverses of fortune as rebel pris- peculiar construction and proceeded to unlock oners, but were actually dying for want of the the door when the poor little fellow flew into common comforts of life. his father's arms and burst into tears.

When Mr. Belden and his daughter reached the spot we have described, little Lucy threw away the nosegay of wild flowers which she had collected in her walk and, running up to her father, she caught his hand in both of her's and turning her pretty eyes full upon his, she said

Pa, I want to go into the prison.'

Mr. Belden was deeply interested in this scene of parental and filial affection, and beckoning the keeper aside he inquired into the history of the parties. He learned that Menden (the father) had been a poor hut industrious resident of the city, and on the breaking out of the war had attached himself to the whig party. That he was supposed Mr. Belden remonstrated. The scene was often to have been employed as a spy, and had not such as he admired and still less would it fallen into the hands of the army under be for the pleasure of his daughter. But the circumstances which confirmed the supposilittle girl knew the power she had over her tion, and which had led to a sentence of death father and persevered :that was to be executed on him the following 'You know, Pa,' she said, 'that you prom-morning. He had been removed from the ised to go in with me the next time that we common mass of the prisoners and confined took a walk together.' in this place that he might prepare for his last Mr. Belden remembered that he had made fearful change. The conversation which elisuch a promise, and on the whole thinking it cited this information occupied considerable best to gratify the girl he yieldingly inquired-time, and passed without the door, the key of But how are we to get in, my dear?' How!' she replied, we will go back to Mr. Jones's, you know he keeps the keys and takes care of the prisoners, it is only a few steps, come, Pa.'

So saying, she began to draw him back by the hand which she held, and the reluctant but pleased father was yielding to his lovely young teaze when the person they sought met them, and the three passed on together into the profaned sanctuary of the MOST HIGH.

We have not time to accompany them through the scenes of wretchedness and distress which every where met their eyes. They had made their egress from the place, and were proceeding into the street, when an interesting lad approached Mr. Jones, with tears in his eyes, and requested to see his Having reached the city, they turned an father. The keeper hesitated, but Mr. Belden angle of the road which brought them into was so struck with his appearance that he William-Street, and in a few minutes they urged him to gratify the lad, and he and were opposite the North Dutch Church. As Lucy followed. Mr. Jones led them to a this church belonged to a denomination whose little, strong stone building in the corner of

which had been turned for the moment to prevent escape; thus enclosing little Lucy with the prisoner and his son.

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The presence of the little girl would not of course, restrain the natural burst of feeling that might be expected at the last meeting of a father and son. The poor lad held his handkerchief to his face for a moment after Mr. Belden left the room and then throwing his arms around his parent's neck, another warm embrace ensued, and both wept in silence for some time. At length Mr. Menden spoke :My dear George,' said he, it is hard for me to part with you, young and unprotected as you are, but life and death are not at my disposal-and "shall not the Lord of all the earth do right?"Oh, George, early learn to put your trust in Him! You will soon be an orphan. Your poor mother that used to teach and guide your infant steps is no more, and your father will also soon be taken from you, and you will be left in the wide world without friends or property or any but God to help

you; but still, my dear boy, you have nothing ||which was to fall on him in consequence. On entering the house she was not sorry to to fear if you pursue the path of virtue and Lucy at first seemed quite incredulous, but learn that Mr. Belden had left George in the religion.' when she was made fully to understand that || care of an old faithful servant and gone down Mr. Menden spoke with the greatest calm-the man who had been so kind, so tender, so into the lower part of the city on particular ness and tenderness. Little George leaned affectionate to his son and so gentle to herself, business, whence he did not expect to return all the while against his father's arm, which was, on the following morning, to die an until morning. Thus far all was well, and in affectionately encircled him, and though his ignominious and cruel death, she was struck order to accomplish her end she had now only eye was downcast, and his bosom heaved with horror at the thought, and with that to dispose of the servant, whom she sent to tumultuously, pouring forth sigh after sigh tenderness peculiar to her sex and age she search for some trinkets that she wished to deep and unmastered, yet he shed no tear till wept bitterly for some time. Whilst Lucy show Mary Jones. Thus left alone with he began to speak, when all his affection for was thus giving vent to her feelings, Mr. George she drew the key from her bag and his father, together with the pain of separation Belden and the keeper re-entered, and Lucy, gave it to him, explaining the manner in which and his poor friendless situation seemed to seizing her father's hand in her own peculiar he could silently leave the house, and telling burst upon him at once and overwhelm him manner, said imploringlyhim how to evade the sentinel, where to leave with sorrow. He choked, he sobbed, he the key, and giving him such other informahung upon his parent, and then burying his tion as her better acquaintance with the scene face in his hands yielded to the impulse of enabled her. She then took from her neck a his grief. beautiful miniature of her own beautiful self, and suspending it upon him she said, in her sweetest manner

• George, George,' said Mr. Menden, endeavoring to master the feeling of suffocation that came over him, you must try to subdue your sorrow. Your situation is not so hopeless: I have committed you into the hands of a kinder parent, one that loves you more tenderly and who is wiser and more able to protect you than I am. Only submit to follow his direction and you may still have many days of enjoyment. I have thought much of you since I was so cruelly condemned to die and have provided for your continuance with your uncle, and made such other arrangements as the time permitted.' Here Mr. Menden entered into a detail of the course which he wished his son to pursue, and as little George's thoughts were thus engaged on another subject he became more calm.

Whilst the father's feelings had been so constantly engaged about his son the presence of Lucy had been unheeded: but now his eye (perhaps unconsciously) was turned upon her. She was standing a witness of this struggle of affection. Her hat had been thrown aside, and her hair, soft rich, and flowing, fell unrestrained upon her polished neck. One hand was thrown across her breast, the other suspended at her side held an elegant bag richly worked, whilst her eyes, beut intently on the little group before her.|| were not only suffused with tears but yielded large drops that furrowed her little cheek and fell, the pearls of sensibility, wasted upon the rude floor of the prison.

Menden's eyes filled again as he saw her; and Lucy, unconscious of her interesting appearance, and full of the generous feelings which had been excited in her bosom, when she saw that she was noticed, stepped forward and laying her hands gently upon his knee looked up through her tears into his face and feelingly inquired

'Pa, you must not let them kill this good gentleman, indeed you must not,' and she sanctioned her appeal by a fresh burst of grief. Mr. Belden had himself been strongly interested in Menden's favor. He learned from the keeper that evidence on which he had been condemned was entirely circumstantial, and but for the violence of the times would have been altogether insufficient for his conviction. But had he been entirely unbiased with regard to him, the appeal of his lovely daughter, the only child of a wife whom he had adored, would have been sufficient to awaken his exertions. But, unhappily, exertions in this case could be of no avail as Sir Henry Clinton, from whom alone any aid could be expected, was absent from the city and not to return in some time.

Here, take this trifle; it may serve to put you in mind of the little girl that saved your father.' So saying, without giving time for a reply, she slipped from the door, and having collected the trifles which were to serve as an excuse for her absence, she returned again to the keeper's.

The next morning Mr. Jones took his keys from the draw as usual and proceeded to the church in William-Street; but when he came to open the door of the out-prison, to his utter surprise, the prisoner was no where to be found.

We shall not pause to describe the effect of this inteligence nor the close of this inter- Years passed away. The war had closed view. At the request of Mr. Belden, Georgeby giving independence to America, and our accompanied him home for the night that he little friend Lucy had grown to the estate of might be nearer the place of his father's womanhood. But time as usual had brought confinement. Lucy during her walk seemed its changes. Mr. Belden had died, and, havto have lost her accustomed sprightliness.ing lived expensively, his property was not She neither talked, nor wandered from her found sufficient to discharge his debts. Lucy father's side, but was apparently lost in the was therefore left without means; and as most maze of her own thoughts. When the com- of her father's friends returned to Europe at pany arrived at the little dwelling of the keeper she obtained leave of her father to spend the night with Mary the keeper's daughter, and in a short time the two girls were as deeply engaged in their little amusements as though nothing unpleasant had occurred to them in all their lives.

the close of the war she was thrown entirely on her own resources. For sometime she remained with a poor aunt, the half sister of her mother, but she dying soon after, Lucy was left without a home. It may appear somewhat singular to those who are young and inexperienced in the ways of the world, Whilst thus engaged with their books curi-that she, who had been the admiration, the osities, and etceteras, Mr. Jones entered and deposited his bunch of keys in one of the draws of an old bureau and left the room. Lucy watched the motion with a keen eye, and it suddenly occurred to her how easily she might take advantage of the circumstance in releasing the father of poor little George. Not long after she was left alone, and, seizing the opportunity, she went immediately to the draw, selected the key that belonged to the

• Pray, my good sir, why are you confined out-prison, and concealing it in her bag she in this prison?'

Mr. Menden explained as well as he was able the nature of his offence and the penalty

slipped from the door and ran at the top of
her speed until she reached the noble mansion
of her father.

center, of that circle in which she moved should now, in the time of her greatest need, be deserted by her former friends and left to penury and want: but such ever is human nature when not influenced and governed by the higher and holier principles of our blessed religion. Whosoever hath, to him shall be given, but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath,' is a declaration, the truth of which is founded deep in the constitution of man. Wealth brings the friendship, the homage, the attention of the world, whilst adversity receives its slight and contumely.

Lucy was a girl of spirit, and finding that the city. The name of this youth had always the money which she had derived from the called up in her mind the kindest feelings, sale of her jewels and trinkets was fast melting associated as it was with the brightest part of away, she determined to forget that she had her life, and with an incident on which she been the child of fortune, and began seriously ever dwelt with the liveliest sensations of to set about the every day business of gaining pleasure; and although she had never seen a living. She first tried to instruct a school, him since the night they parted at her father's but having no fiends to assist her, and being house, yet his fine eye, his intelligent counteunused to constant and persevering effort, shenance, his deep-rooted affection, and his failed of success, and found herself so much successful enterprise, had made an impression involved in debt for rent, fire, and board, that on her heart which, though dimmed by the the small remains of her purse were barely lapse of time, had never been entirely oblitsuflicient to save her from the cruel oppression ||erated. When, therefore, the circumstances of a relentless landlord. which we have mentioned came to her knowlIn this situation nothing remained but edge, they called up the remembrances, the actual beggary or absolute servitude. Of associations, the pleasures of her early days course she chose the latter; but fortune, who on which she dwelt with a morbid fecling of seemed determined to do her worst upon her, delight. threw her into the hands of a merciless misThat night Lucy slept but little. Her tress who possessed little of the milk of infagination roved in a land of shadows, of human kindness, and much of that iron fisted phantoms, of dreams. Still, however she acquisitiveness that gratifies its uling passion could not banish thre reality. She could not by any means however wicked. But there entirely forget that she was a poor servant girl, was no alternative; her last shilling had been destitute of home, of friends and all that expended and no other place offered but the renders life desirable. The thought sickened one of which we have spoken, and which was her heart; and then she wept; and then she that of upper servant in a large boarding house. thought of her poor, kind, lost father, and the Here poor Lucy experienced every hardship streams of grief burst out afresh. Thus Lucy which the unrelenting cruelty of a hard hearted || passed the night; and on the following mistress could inflict. Besides the toil she morning her eyes were swollen, her face was was obliged to endure, she had to bear the sneers of her associate servants and the sarcastic taunts of the mistress of the establishment. Mrs. Blackheart saw that she was every way superior to herself, and this superiority possessed by one in so degraded a station excited alike her envy and hatred, and she could not speak kindly to her.

Well, my pretty lady, you have made your appearance in fine time this morning. You are vastly genteel upon my word.'

flushed, her mouth was parched, and she found herself for sometime unable to rise. She was called once, twice, thrice, but she could not obey the summons. At length she gathered sufficient strength, and having arranged her toilet she descended to await the commands of Mrs. Blackheart. But that detestable woman was insensible to Lucy's Lucy bore all, however, with apparent sorrows. She met her with a cold, forbidding equanimity, and with that resignation and air, and having drawn her mouth up into a cheerfulness for which her sex is so remarkable,|| most ironical and provoking form, somewhat but still it evidently preyed upon her health. after the model of the letter O, she said— The change from affluence to servitude was too great to be borne with indifference, and, spite of every resolution, her thoughts would recur to former days and bring them in contrast with the present sufferings. Had she possessed one friend to have given her support and comfort, it might have been otherwise; but as it was, the tears which she shed during the silence of the night deprived her of the necessary renovation produced by sleep, her delicate frame proved unequal to her trials, and she gradually sunk beneath them. Still, though she was pale, feeble, and scarcely able to keep her feet, she struggled to maintain the appearance of health, and endeavored to perform the duties allotted her with faithful promptness.

During this state of things Lucy learned that a young man by the name of George Menden had come in possession of a large estate by the death of a distant relation, and was expected soon to take up his residence in

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· Madanı!' said Lucy.

'Madam!' said Mrs. Blackheart insultingly,
I want none of your madams, none of your
fine speeches. It was a servant and not a
speechmaker that I hired.'

'Pray do not speak so harshly, Mrs. Black-
heart,' said Lucy bursting into tears.
'Harshly indeed!' returned this unfeeling
woman' upon my word you have delicate
ears.
But come, none of your simpering, your
appearance is quite interesting without, gather
up your duds and leave the house immediately.
I have no need of ladies of your pretensions.'

Oh do not drive me from you madam,'
said Lucy, still weeping bitterly, I have no
home, no friends; I will be every thing you
wish.'

'You are very obliging in words, my sweet Miss,' said Mrs. Blackheart with a sneer, but

fine words will not make up for such laziness as this: no, no; it is a servant and not a lady that I want, so I say pack up and be off.' So saying Mrs. Blackheart turned to depart;—but ere she reached the door a sudden paleness came over poor Lucy, she became sick at heart and sunk insensible upon the floor.

In this situation a gentleman who had, the night before, taken up his lodgings in an adjoining room and had heard through the half opened door all that passed, rushed forward to her assistance, exclaiming, 'Good Heaven, madain, what have you done?' He did not wait for a reply, but putting his hand under her head he gently raised her and conveyed her to his own room where he directed every attention to be paid her, promising to be answerable for the expense.

As Lucy only required a respite from labor and care, together with some of the ordinary comforts of life to restore her to health, she rapidly amended and was soon entirely recovered. During her illness the gentleman who had so kindly interested himself in her behalf was particularly attentive to all her wants. He sent for a skillful physician, procured her a nurse, provided delicacies for her appetite, and endeavored by every means to advance her comfort.

When she was entirely recovered he requested to see her. He entered, and, for the first time, Lucy found that she was under all these obligations to a gay, handsome young man. He treated her however with the utmost courtesy and respect, and said that as he was going to leave the city for a few days he was desirous of knowing if there was any thing further in which he could serve her.-Lucy expressed her gratitude in suitable terms but politely declined laying herself under any further obligations. After some other conversation he took his leave and soon after sent the following note: Miss Belden,—

As you may find your situation hereafter, even less agreeable than formerly, I take the liberty to say that you will procure a situation more to your mind by conveying the enclosed note to the place of its direction.

G. WALGRAVE.

But we are making a long story. We will hasten to its termination. Lucy did indeed find Mrs. Blackheart more intolerable since she had been so unfortunate as to receive kindness from the hand of so fine a gentleman. In short after much hesitation, she resolved to see, at least, the place to which she had been directed. She therefore set off, and found it a large, noble edifice, in a pleasant part of the city. Surely, she thought, nothing dishonorable can reside here, and she therefore resolved to present her note. She did so, and was received in the capacity of governess to two fine daughters who had not yet entered their

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