Newspaper Page Text
For the Bugle.
TWO OR THREE THOUGHTS ABOUT
BY T. WICKERSHAM.
Oil! what a mockery
Is tliis society
Who say they Quakers be !
I know that to be free
Unable I slmll be
So long as I agree
To see uiy liberty
, . Thus torn sway from me
By such men as I see
Nit in the gallery.
I never can agree
To stand and patiently
"Without a murmur seo
I'd rather roasted be
To grace the revelry
Of some mad Indian spTee,
Than thus be doom'd to see
Such baby mimicry
Of Truth and Liberty,
And yet unable be
Myself from it to free !
''1 is wonderful to see .
How men deceived can be
So far as to agree
That negro slavery
Can e'er abolished bo
While they shall quietly
Its fearful workings see,
And yet untroubled bo
That heartless tyrany
Should thus permitted be
In crime and revelry
To walk the nation, free !
If I should ever be
Sold into slavery
Where I should fettered bo,
And forced in misery
To toil laboriously
Uy men who wickedly
Wave torn away from me
My sacred liberty.
And bo compelled to see
My wages robbed from me
With rude audacity
By men who over me
Assume the mastery
That they array'd may be
In trappings gorgeously
To riot wantonly
At game and revelry
Indeed it seems to me
If while I bitterly
Thus groaned in slavery
I should the Quakers see
' In calmness look on mo
And say, "we-wish-thee-free,"
And then stand quietly
And nothing do for me,
That I inclined would be
To think th' anxiety
Which they so tenderly
Professed to feel for ino
Was but a mockery
. A sheer liypocriw,
And I convinced would be
That I from slavery
Would never rescued be
By such vain Quakcry!
Clinton Co., 0.
LINES ON AN OLD GENTLEMAN.
BY O. W. HOLMES.
I saw liim once before,
As he passpd by tho door,
The pavement-stones resound,
As he totters o'er the ground
: With his cane.
They say that in his prim,
Ere the pruning-knife of Time
Cut him down,
Not a better man was found
By the crier on his round
Through ttie town.
But now he walks the streets,
. And looks at all he meets,
And he shakes his feeble head,
That it seems as if he said,
They are gone!'
The mossy marbles rest
On the lips that he has press'd
In their bloom;
And the names he loved to hear
Have been carved for in. ny a year
On their tomb!
My grand mama has said
Poor old lady, she is dead
That he had a Roman nose,
And his cheek was like a rose
In the snow.
But now his nose is thin,
And it rests upon bis chin
Like a staff".
And a crook is in his back,
And a melancholy crack
In his laugh.
I know it is a sin
For me to sit and grin
At him here;
But the old three-cornered hat,
The breeches and all that
Are so queer!
And if I should live to be
" The last leaf on the troe -In
Let them smile as I do now,
At the old forsaken bough
. Where I cling, , ,
God ne'er made a bond man:
Ne'er made one man to be his follow' vic
tim: Ne'er curst the north, that its lair breast
Unto the proud lord, milk ; but, to the peas
ant, Nothing but poison.
THE LOST CHILDREN.
BY L. H. SIGOURNEY.
There was sickness in the dwelling of the
emigrant. Stretched upon his humble Deo,
he depended upon that nursing care wmcn a
wife, scarcoly less enfeebled than himself,
wag able to bestow. A child, in its third
summer, had been recently, laid to Us last
rest, beneath a turf mould under their win
dow. Its image was in tho heart of the mo
ther, as she tenderly ministered to her hus
band. ' '
"Wife, I am afraid t tMuk too nnoli about
poor little Thomas. II- wa so well and ro
sy, when we left our old home, scarcely a
year Since. Sometimes I feel if we had con
tinued thefe, our darling would not have
Tho tear which had long trembled, and
been repressed, burst forth at these words.
ll freely overflowed the brimming eyes, and
relieved the suffocating emotions which had
striven for the mastery.
"Do not reproach yourself, dear husband.
His liire had come, lie is lnppier there than
here. Let us bo thankful for those that are
'It seems to me that the little girls are
growing pale. I am afraid you conlino them
too closely to this narrow house, and to the
Bight nf sickness. The weather is growing
settled. You had better send them out to
change the air, and run about at their will.
Mary, lay the baby on the bed for me, and
ask mother to let sister and you go out for a
Tho mother assented, and tho children,
who wero four and six years old, departed
full of delinlit. A clearinir had been made
in front of their habitation, and by ascending
a knoll in its vicinity, another dwelling might
ho seen, environed with the dark spruco aim
hemlock. In the rear of these houses was a
wide expanse of ground, interspersed with
thickets, rocky acclivities, and patches of for
est trees, while far away, one or two lakelets
peered up, with their blue eyes deeply fring
ed. The spirits of the children, as they en
tered this unenclosed region, were like those
of the birds that surrounded them. They
playfully pursued each other with merry
laughter, and such a iovous sense of liberty
as makes the blood course liirhtsoinely thro'
'Little Jane, let us go further than ever we
have before. Wo will see what lies beyond
those high hills, for it is but just past noon,
and we can get back fong before supper-lime.
"(J. ves. let us follow that bright blue bird,
and see what he is flying after. But don't
go in among those briars that tear the clothes
so, tor mother has no time to mend tnem.
"Sister, sweet sister, here are some snow
drops in this green hollow, exactly like those
in my old, dear garden, so tar away, now
pure they are, and cool, just like the baby's
lace when tho wind blows on it: f atlicr anu
mother will like us to bring them some.'
Filling their little aprons with the spoil,
and still searching for something new, or
beautiful, they proiongeu ineir rainuic, un
conscious ot the night ot time, or extent o
snace thov wero traversing. At length a"
monished bv the dullness, which often marks
the declining hours of the early days of
spring, they turned their course homeward.
But the returning clue was lost, and tuey
walked rapidly, only to plunge more inextri
cably into the mazes of the wilderness.
"Sister Mary, are these preity snow-urops
rood to eat! I am so hungry, and my feet
ache, and will not go."
"Let me lift vou over this brook, littl
Jane, and hold tighter by my hand, and walk
as brave as you can, that we miy get uome
and help mother set the table'
"We won't go so far next time, will wo
What is the reason that I cannot see any bet
ter!" "Is not that the roof of our bouse, dear
Jane, the thin smoke curling up among th
trees! Many times have I thought so, and
found it only a rock or a mist."
As evening drew its veil, the hapless wan-
derers, bewildered, hurried to and fro, calling
for their parents, or shouting for help, until
their strength was exhausted, 'lorn by
brambles, and their poor feet bleeding from
the rocks that strewed their path, they sunk
down, moaning bitterly. The tears that over
power the heart of a timid child, who for the
first time finds night approaching without
shelter or protection.wrought on the youngest
to insupportable anguish. 1 he elder tilled
with sacred warmth of sisterly affection, after
the first paroxysms of grief; seemed to for
get herself, and sitting upon the damp ground
and folding the little one in her arms, rocked
her with a gentle movement, soothing and
hushing her like a nurseling.
"Don't cry, O, don't cry so, dearest; say
your prayers, and fear will fly away."
'How can I kneel down here in the dark
woods, or say my prayers, when mother is
not by to hear met l think l sae a large
wolf, with sharp ears, and a mouth wide
open, and hear noises, as of many fierce lions
"Dear little Jane, do sayt 'Our Father who
art in heaven.' lie a good girl, and when w
have rested here a while, perhaps he may ho
pleased to send some one to find us, and fetch
Harrowing was the anxiety in the lowly
hut of the emigrant, when day drew toward
its close, and the children came not. A boy
their sole assistant in the toils of agriculture
on his return from labor, was sent in search
of them, but in vain. As evening drew on,
the inmates of the neighboring house, and
thoso of a small hamlet at a considerable dis
tance, were alarmed, and associated in the
pursuit. Tho agony of the invalid parents,
through that night, was uncontrollable; start
ing at every footstep, shaping out of every
breeze the accents of the lost ones returning,
or their cries of misery. While the morning
was yet gray, the father, no longer to be re
strained, and armed with supernatural
strength, went forth, amid the ravings of his
fever, to take part in the pursuit. With fiery
cheeks, his throbbing head bound with a
handkerchief, he was seen in the most dan
gerous and inaccessible spots caverns, rav
ines, beetling clifls leading the way to eve
ry point of peril, in the frenzy of grief and
rh .norm.! nhrht drCW On, with One of
those suddon sleet and snow-storms which
sometimes chill tho hopes of the young
sprint Then was seen a sad signt; a wo--;m
aiinn.mifid form, flying she knew
not whither, and continua i v exclaiming,
nki I. Iron I mv children: , i-;
r.i .i. ,.o on iiuau v paic. one
111! ,u nuc a wunwi. . - .
mind no advice to take care oi nersen, no
persuasion to return to her home.
"They call me ! Lot mo go! I will lay
them in their bed my self. How cold their
feet arel What! is Jime singing er night
ly hymn without me? No, no, she cries;
some evil serpent has stung her!" and shriuk-
ng wildly, the poor mouier uiKippunuu nr.
I hunted deer, in the depths of the forutl.
Oh ! mii'ht she but have wrapped them in
hor arms, as they shivered in their dismal re
cess, under the roots of a tree, uptorn by
some wintry tempest! tl now coum biio
imagine tho spot where they lay, or behove
that thoso little wearied limbs had borne them
through hoir and bramble, more than six
miles from the parental noun "y""
which wo have mentioned, a fuint moaning
mind miirbt mill be heard.
"Sister, do not tell me that we shall never
see the baby any more. I seo it now, nnd
Thomas too, dear 1 nomas : r ny u mi-j
snv ho died, and was buried! Ha is close
hv mn. lust above mv head. Thereuro many
more babies with luui a nost. i m-v k"""
by as if they had wings. 1 hey look warm
nr.,1 lmnnv. I should he glad to be With
......,,,. - ... .-r., i i...
tlipm. mul Inin their Doaninui units, uu.
O, how cold 1 am! Cover mo closer, Mary
Tnl-n mv linurl into VOUr llOSOin.
"1'ray do not go to sieep quivu jui, ui-.u
litllo Jane. 1 want to near your voice, aim
to talk with vou. It is so very sad to be
walking here all alone, ll" 1 could hut see
your faco when you are asleep, it would be a
comfort, Hut it is so dark, to dark."
I? mm n it hprsp. f with difficulty, She unues
her apron, and spreads it over the head ot
tho child, to protect ll irom ine anting tmut,,
she pillows the cheek on her breast, and
grasps more firmly the benumbed hand, by
which She had so laill'.luuy icq nur, uirougii
all their terrible pilgrimage. there tuey
i ! One moves not. The other keeps vt
gil, feebly giving utterance, at intervals, to a
ow, suffocating spasm, trom a throat oneu
with hunger. Onco more she leans upon her
elbow to look on tho face of the little one,
for whom as a mother she cared. With love
strong as death, sho comforts herself that her
sister slumbers calmly, because the stroke of
the destroyer has silenced ner souning.
Ah ! why came ye not hither, torches that
gleam through tho wilderness, and men wno
shout to each other? why came ye not this
way! See! how they plunge into morasses,
thev cut their path through tangled thickets,
they ford waters, they ascend mountains, they
explore lorests but the lost are not lounu.
The third and fourth nights como and de
part. Still the woods arc tilled with eager
searchers. Sympathy has gathered them
from remote settlements. Lvery log cabin
sends forth what it can spare tor this work ol
nitv and of sorrow. They cross each othcr'i
track. Incessantly they interrogate ana re
ply. But in vain. Tho lost nre not found.
In hor mournful dwelling, me mouier sai
motionless. Her infant was upon her lap.
The strong duty to succor its helplessness
grappled with the might ol grief, and prevail
ed. Her eyes were riveted upon its brow.
iNo sound passed ner wmie nps. raying
women, from distant habitations, gathered a
round and wept for her. They even essayed
BOino word of consolation. But she answer
ed nothing. She looked not toward them.
She had no car for human voices. In her
soul was the perpetual cry pf the lost.
Nothing overpowered it hut the wail of th
livinf babe. She ministered to its necessi
ties, and heaven inspired impulse saved her.
She had no longer any hope lor those wl
had wandered away. Horrid images were
in her fancy the ravening beasts black pit
of stagnant water bitds of fierce beak
venemous, coiling snakes. She bowed her
self down to them, and travailed as in the
birth hour, fearfully and in silence. But the
helpless babe on her bosom touched an elec
tric chord and saved her irom despair, m
ternal love, with its pillar of cloud and
flame, guided her through the desert that she
Sunday came, and the search was unaba
ted. It seemed only marked by a deeper
tinge of melancholy. The most serious felt
it titlinrr to no forth at that sacred season, to
seek the lost; though not like their Master
girded with the power to save. Parents re
membered that it might have been their
own little ones, who had thus strayed from
the fold, and with their gratitude, took some
thing of the mourner's spirit into their hearts.
Even the sad hope of gathering the dead for
the sepulchre, and the sole hope that now
sustained tlietr toll, began to lauo miououoi
As they climbed over huge trees, which th
winds of winter had prostrated, or forcei
their way among rending brambles, sharp
rocks, and close woven branches, they mar
velled how such fragile forms could have en
dured hardship by which the vigor of man
bond was inmeded and perplexed.
The echo of a gun rang suddenly through
the forest. It was repeated. Hill to hill
bore the thrilling message. It was the con
that iboir anxieties wero ended
The hurrying seeker followed its sound
From a commanding cliff, a white flag was
seen to float. It was a herald that the lost
'I'hero thev were, near tho base of a wood
ed hillock, half cradled among tho roots
on uptorn chestnut. There tuey lay c iee
clasned in hand. The blasts
hn.l i,,i,rl.,,l in one ra.ish their dishovilo
locks, f-r they had left home with their poor
heads uncovered. Tho youngest had passed
away in sleep. There was no contortion on
her brow, though her features were sunk and
chantoniMl Kv ('inline.
The elder had borne a deeper and longer
anguish. Hor eyes were open, as tnougn
aha li4 wati-haii until death came; wutchino
nvartlint littln one. through thoBB days and
nights of terror, she had cared and sorrowed
liLo B mnthor. Stronir and rugged men shed
tears, -when they saw she had wrapped her
in br own arvintv anron. and strivou with
her embraeiusr arms to prcservo tho warmth
of vitality, even after the cherished spirit
had tied away. Tho glazed eyeballs' wero
strained, as if to the last they had been gaz
ing for her father's roof, or the wreath of
smoke that should guide her there.
sweet sisterly lovel so patient In all adver-
ity, so faithful unto the end, found it not si
liner's house, when it might enter with the I
ittle otic, and be sundered no more? Found I
it not a fold, whence no lamb can wander and I
bo lostl a mansion whore there is no death, I
nciihtfr sorrow nor crying!
A SERMON BY OLD LORENZO.
From faith each christian grnCc conies out,
AS irom the acorn lorests sprout.
Jirtlhren and Friends, This is thy text to
ny. 1 want to tell you something about
nth. I' uitli is a kind ol acorm Jt don t
grow on the crab trees of nature, hut comes
right down Irom Heaven. on, my hearers,
are by nature all hog-walnuts anil it is just
as impossible for a real shag-bark to spring
iiuiii suuu a iiui, a.-, lur u stum iu cuumi mi
iple tree. on have not a particle of failh,
t the thousandth part of a grain of mustard
till Hod gives it to you. I have been
round vmiting my church; ami 1 find yon are
all contending stoutly for the failh; that is, for
the faith ol our church. It rejoices my heart
to witness your zeal, lint, my brethren
while I admit the importance of faith, 1 want
to remind you, that "tilth without works is
dead, being alone." There is a sad misLikc
in the world about this and I greatly fear
the heresy is contagious, and that our patent
church will suffer bv it. Co and examine
tho popular churches of the day. They say
they are christians. hyl ll, they have got
the faith. Well, now my friends, they don't
know, what a christian is. I take it they arc
pretty honest. 1 bey don t know. hy,
faith is nothing but a christian germ, tho sued
that produces christians. Here; I show you
handliill ot acorns. What would you
think of me, if I were to tell you each onu
of tbein was an oak tree two feet through!
And what shall I think of you; when you
tell inn, you are christian because you have
"the faith." 1 tremblo to think, that some
members of my church are in a mortal error,
I don't believe they are christians. They
have faith onough,they are good sound acorns,
but they have nt sprouted yet. 1 hope the
present cold and frosty state ot tho church
will crack the shell that they wont live and
die in this state, and have to bo planted over
again in Heaven. How shamed 1 should
feel, to see members nf my church sprouting
up, little saplings, in Heaven. ) on know, ll
you take an acorn, and bury it up three feet
deep tu the solid earth, it never will sprout.
It will stay there, ages on ages; the germina
ting principle wont die, but it can't sprout,
till it is brought up to the sun and air. I fear
this is the condition ot some members in my
church.' 1 hey nro buried so deep in the rub
bi8h ot church-Mns and iioll-j aud other
worldly lumber, that they can I sprout till
somebody uigs them up. 1 find there is an
other sort of members in the church, a vity
mimerousclaSBtoo. 1 can tronlly tell wheth
er they deserve tho name of christians or not.
1 hey have barely sprouted, they are neither
perfect acorns nor perfect trees. They think
they are christians. I go and ask them if
they are christians. Why, yes; they say, we
I ask them the foundation of their
hope. That is, I want to know what evi
deuce they have, that they nro christians?
And they go on, and tell over the agony they
experienced in sprouting. Now, my breth
ren, it is encouraging to think you have
been in this nondescript condition long
The Great Cultivator will get discouraged
soon. He has to dig down, iii iny anil many
a time, to find you. He is all the time look
ing for tho blade to spring forth; and wero it
not for his long suffering and Job like pa
tience, he would have left you to rot in the
ground long ago,
Don't go away my hearers, and say I have
denied the faith. Faith comes first. Let me
illustrate. There goes a poor, ragged, hun
gry beggar. XNow you never will do any
thing, to relieve that poor man, unless you
lirat have faith, first believe that you ought to
But what good would it do to have this faith
if that was the end of it! Will your faith
fill the hungry man's belly, or clothe his na
kedness! It is a christian duty you know, to
give that man a coat, if you have got two of
them. 1 hen why don t you do it? It is be
cause you have only sprouted. 1 tell you
brethren, a christian has got something to do,
It is doing that makes the christian. The
devil has got faith enough to save all the
damned, it I. nth would save any body. ou
have got to do something too, beside joining
the church and repeating over your got-by-
rote prayers, and whimpering, and fetching
up your great, long, guttural groans in the
lod demands mercy"!
will have mercy," says he, 'and not sacrifice,'
w lien you see a poor man, who needs as
sistance, which it is in your power to bestow.
if you were christians you would help him
and unless yon do help the needy, you aro
no christians. 1 dou t know what will bo-
come ol you, when you die, it you should
quit tho world in this condition. (;ive me a
solid acorn rather than this halt and hall state.
If you don't bestir yourselves, I believe you
will rot, and go back to nothing; or else be
transplanted to purgatory, to ripen there. A
g.iin, you all s iy you are abolitionists. Ours,
you siy, is an abolition church. But what
ure vou doingl Anything! iNo. You are
all abolition acorns. When I see a man brave
the malice of all the pro-slavery ministers of
Satan; when ho stands ready to take the part
of the slave in opposition to mad bigots, and
forming hypocrites, and grasping avarice, I
call him an abolitionist. A trim abolitionist
is a full grown christian. I know of no nth
ers in our ungodly nation. May you all he-
become such, and secure crowns of thorns on
of gold in Heaven. Amen and amen.
The Ueruld oj freedom.
The road that leads to wealth too often pass-
through the narrow defiles of meanness.
which men of exalted spirit cannot stoop to
"n1'8 perseverance decamped with precau
i)d, ,lo" leaving Zed, as Apollyon left Christian,
Fai.mko from Grace. Zedikiah Uroad-
hcad was a man of somewhat less statue than
Goliah of Oath, though possessing perhape
as much physical strength. So the village
wrestlers thought) that when out ol sport, lie
took up a whole handful of them and da'ihed
all of thein on the ground; During a reli
gious revival, Zcdekiah was converted anu
joined the Methodist churclu One evening,
while on his war home from a class meeting.
he was assailed by half a dozen of his form
cr companions, shouting, " INow led nas DC
come a Christian, and cannot fight) let's glvd
him a Ihrashinif ." 4 Hold n moment." in
terposed Zed, putting forth an arm as lonir its
a rail; "I know a Christian cannot fight, but
remember 1 belong to a denomination wno)
believe in fallinz from grare, and," continued
the new convert, planting his foot more firm
ly on the earth, and towering up like a giant
in tho moonlight, his arm fulling back to ail
angle of forty five degrees "if ihould fall
from grace,'' here he lowered his voice to
an ominous solemnity, and advanced three
paces towards his retreating assailants, it
fhuulil (all trom grace, woe be unto you!
The scamps, overawed by a doubt of the gi-
' tSu u" J i-j" 'S'
A remarkable case of tomethin; is said to
have been exhibited, for some time past, in
the person ol ausan 1.. 1 earson, a young
woman living with Mr. Hiram Westfall, in
this town. She has been afflicted several
times with severe spasms, in which sho suf
fers great pain, and on two or three occasions
sweat blood profusely over tho stomach, and
from the lorchead. 1 his sweating ot blood
sho prophesied beforehand; and on each oc
casion, it took place at the precise time pre
dicted, in tho presence of respectublo persons,
whose testimony we are bound to believe.
It is also said that she has frequently, when
sUting in a closed room, related accurately
i . I f .1. . J
wnat some incomers oi uio lauuiy were ao-
in other apartments ol the house or prem
ises. 1 hat she will tell the time ol day to a
minute, by a time piece in another room, out
of her sight and, "that frequently she has
been heard reading the lilblo correctly anil
fluently in her dark room. She nays she cart
read and toll the tiiuo of day perfectly well
in the dark, as it is all plain to her sight.
.Many ot her sayings aud doings aro stningd
beyond tho common experience of human ac
tions. We give them as we have heard them
from respectable witnesses." ii'abuah Cour
ier. One of the editors of tho Indiana State Sen
tinel confirms this statement. He says that
the occurrences related above, or a part of
them took place while ho was on a visit to
erre Haute, and tie "can testify that th-
Courier falls short in its relation of the pre
A full report of the case is promised froiu
the pen of a gentleman who can speak from
"AKCIIY MOORE" by Richard R. Ilil
earlh, dreth. ' '
Is hereby given, that a petition will )
presented to tho next Legislature of the 6tale
ol unto, praying lor the erection ot a new
county out of the following townships in
Trumbull and Columbiana counties, to Ua
called the county ol ('ass with the scat of
justice at Cunhclri J rumbull county, to wlti
Milton, Jackson, Ausliiitown, loungatown,
Coitsville, I'olaud, Doardiuan, Canfield, Ells
worth, and Berlin, in 1 rumbull county, ami
Smith, Goshen, Green, Beaver, and Spring
field, in Columbiana county.
October 3lst 18 13. -It 15.
AGENTS FOR THE "BUGLE."
Ohio. Arui Garden David L. Galhreath.
Ciitunthiana Lot Holmes. Cool .Spri("-
I. Ml wood V ickors. Jierlm Jacob 11.
Barnes. Marlboro Dr. K. G. Thomas.
Caitficld John Wetnioro. lMw:llcille Dr.
liutler. Poland I hristopherI.ee. liunis-
town J, S. Johnson. jeu Lyme Hanni
bal Reeve. Jikron Thomas P. Beach.
.ew Lisbon (Jeorge Garretson. Cincinnati
William Donaldson. Salinenillc James
Farmer. Kail Fairfield John Mirsh. Set-
i,i a I hos- ows-yne. tiartngboro Ira l horn-
as. larveymurgv . iMi'noison. vaniana
Elizabeth Brook. Chagrin Fall S. Dick
enson. Milta James Cope. Columuui-
VV. W. l'ollard.
Indiana. Greenboro Lewis Branson.
Marion John T. Morris. Economy Ira C.
Maulshv. Liberty Edwin Gardner. iKm-
chealer Clarkson Picket. Kni'htstoirn.
Dr. II. L. Terrill. llichmond Joseph Ad-
Pennsylvania. Fallstoiv Joseph B. Coale.
.fall SlnVCVI IIUllCattOH$.
I S.' !E"L12A!B'.ETIEI JEflTTBHEilCZ has
I just received and has now . for sale at her
l boarding house, Sarah ualbrcath s, west end
I of High st
THE CONSTITUTION A PRO-SLAV
ERY COMPACT, or sklections cbom
this Madison Papkks.
THE BROTHERHOOD OF THIEVES,
OR A TKl'E PlCTl'UB OK THE AMERICAN
Church and Clergy, by S, S. Foster.
COME O UTERIS M, or the duty or se
cession FROM A CORIU'IM- church, by Win.
G oodell .
THE AMERICAN CHURCHS the BUL
WARKS OF AMERICAN SLAVERY,
hy JamisO. Bimey,
"THE DISUMONIST," by Wendell Phil
"VOICES Or THE TKUK HJiAiir.U"
From No. I to 0 inclusive.
PORTRAIT OF LUCUhlTA MOW.
CHANMNG'S LASI ADDHfcSS.
NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE OF FRED,