Newspaper Page Text
"We will cling to the -ilr fteTml forLieteadi tms al
SIMRDRISOE & CO.,Porers EDGEFIELD, tS. C., APRIL 1, 185.-*t
Fron Ballou's Dollar Monhy Magazine.
THE FAIR SLAVE OF ISMID.
Tua city of Ismid is situated at the head of
a gulf of the same name, and is touched by the
great road from Constantinople to the south
ward. The place contains but little of material
interest, save one old castellated structure, and
the remains of antiquity which are to be found
in the yards 'of the tomb-stone corners. It
was anciently the seat of the kings of Bithynia,
and once the residence of Hannibal, and if I
may believe the begging tehawooska who acted
as my guide, I had the pleasure of standing in
the very apartment where that mighty general
used to sleep. But what I saw has little to do
with my story.
Ismid is the seat of a pasha, and at the time
of which I write Benmousoff held that high
office. He was a fat, lazy Turk, over half a
century old, and if he was honest it was because
he could make the most money i-y being so.
The pasha had one son named Gaib. This was
his only child, and he loved him well-so well
that he would even stretch his authority at times
to please him. Gaib wa; five-and-twenty when
for the first time in his life the thought of mar
riage -entered his head. Ile did once make some
advances to the daughter of the Captain Bey,
but he was coldly turned away, and all thoughts
of love were banished. The truth was, Gaib
was not only of a wilful and ugly disposition,
but he was very homely in person, having only
one eye, and being otherwise disfigured. So
the youth resolved that he would not force
himself upon the fair sex again until he could
find one whom he could command to share
One day Gaib entered his father's presence
in great haste.
" What is it, my son?" the old pasha asked,
noting the youth's excitement.
"Iii the market-place-at the shop of old
Abraham-there is a Greek girl named Lulee.
She is for sale. I want her for a wife."
"A wife, Gaib? And will my son take a
wife from among the Greeks? Can you find--"
" Stop, my father. Go first and see Lulee.
Such beauty ne'er before was meted out to hu
man form. I must have her, and you must go
and see her ?"
" But how much does the old Jew ask for
" He asks two thousand piastres."
"A great sum, my child."
"For great worth. But come-you must go
with me to the market. My heart is set upon
the possession of this slave, and I must hate
The pasha saw that hjs son was determined,
prdfollowon tothe bazaar. When the father and
son reached the shop of Abraham, they were at
once admitted to the room where the slave was.
Even the old pasha was wonder-struck by the
girl's marvellous beauty. She was not over sev
enteen, and as fair as the very roses that clus
tered about the lattice near which she sat.
There was much of the voluptuoSs in her round,
full, perfect form; but in her beautiful face all
was purity and native modesty, with a tremu
lous, shrinking expression, which revealed Lout
a little of the anguish which lay at her heart
Her story, as told by the Jew, ,u as simply this:
About a year before she had been stolen away
from her home in Greece and brought Zither by
a corsair. He (the Jew) bought her at once,
and had since kept her at work in his kitchen.
But now he had found a cheaper cook, and he
wanted the money for the fair Greek.
Benmousoff~ acknowledged that he had never
before seen a female so lovely, and knowing
that no respectable free woman would take his
son for a husband, he resolved to buy the love
ly slave. Accordingly he paid over to the Jew,
two thousand piastres, and the maiden was de
liveredl into his keeping.
" You are mine now," the pasiba said, as he~
took the girl by the hand to lead her away.
Lulee crouched close to the old man, at the
same time casting upon Gaib one of those fright
ened looks such as a fawn might give a wolf.
She drew down her veil, and then Benmousoff
led her from the place. When they reached
the pasha's seraglio, GCaib followed them.
" Lulee," spoke the old man, "you zmay ban
ish all your sears, for your station is to be an
honorable one. My son takes you for his wife."
" Your son !" uttered the.Greek, with a fear
ful start " Where ishe ?"
"lie stands by your side."
Lulee cast one frightened look upon the young
man, and then, with her small white hands
clasped, she uttered:
-" Spare me-0, spare me ! I can cook, and
wash, and scrub; and I can be as faithful as the
sun. But spare me from this! 0, 1.ave com
First Gaib's countenance assumed a troubled,
chagrined expression, but a look of anger quick
ly followed. He moved to the maiden's side
and placed his hand upon her shoulder.
'- Lulee," lhe said, in a low, hisaing tone, " you
are to be my wife. if you are wise, you wil
beware. There are tortures more painful than
death-and fate may hold in store a positioin
worse than that of wife !'
With a quick, cold shudder, the poor girl
shrank back and covered her face. Thie wild
heaving of lhe: bosom told how deep was her'
agony, but no tears came to relieve her bur
" Yes, Lulee," said the old man, " thou art
for my son, and he will make thee his wife. lie
faithful, and thou shalt be hapy."
Ere long the fair slave wais conducted to the
apartment which had been set apart for her,
a and here, when she was alone, 4h wept. Lit tle
dreamed the pasha and his son t~ secret of the
Greek girl's heart.
Night came on, and a black slave camne and
lighted the lamp which hung in Lulee's rom.
It emitted a grateful perfume as it buirnled. and
cast a soft light upon the place. Surely t he
apartment was a sumptuous one, and the eye
tired not in viewing the costly trappings that
decorated the ceiling and walls Yet Lulee no
ticed it not. With her head bowed, she groaned
in the deep agony of her soul, and anoit a hurst
ing prayer canie forth from hcr lips.. Thus she
sat when her door was slowvy, noiselessly open
ed, and a human being, milled up in a long
cloak, entered the apartment. Lulee started
up, and the expression upon her face was a enm
rious one. There was more of some strong,
reckless determination, than of re-iinat ion.
And then her right hand was hidden in her bo
som, and one who had stood by her .ide mi ht
have seen that she clasped the jewelled hilt of'
a small dagger.
The person who had entered stood a moment
near the door, and as he seemed to have recog
nized the maiden, he let the cloak fall from his
shoulders and then turned, his gaze full upon
Lulee. He was a young man-not over thr~ee
-ad twante.-tall-and nobly formed, with those
dark eyes and richly flowing hair, and thos
pure. classical features which mark the Greek
" Lulee," he said, in a low, sweet tone, "have
I found thee at last?"
"Alphion!" burst from the maiden's lips, an
she gave a spring forward. "I am not deceiv
ed ! 0, speak to me!"
But ere he could speak, she was folded to l'is
bosom, and for a while the two wept in silence.
"Lulee-Lulee," the youth whispered, in a
tremulous, fearful tone, art thou yet a wife ?
the wvife of any man?
"No, no, Alphion," the maiden quickly ut
tered. "0, no. So far God has been most
" But the old pasha bought thee for a wife ?
"Ay-for his son. But no stain should have
come upon me. I am prepared. Since first I
left my native shores I have not lost this last,
sure friend." As she spoke, she drew forth a
small dagger, and the expression which rested
upon her face at that moment showed that Gaib
could never have found a living wife in his
"Bless thee," the youth murmured, as he
again caught the fair girl to his bosom. "Lulee,
I have found thee at last, and henceforth we
live or die together. For one long year I have
searched for thee in vain. When they snatched
thee from our home, I knew it not until two
days had passed. Who was it that did the deed
-and how ?"
" A foul corsair-a Turk-landed near our
cot at Dyro--and I was upon the beach. The
demon seized mne and bore me off, and brought
me here and sold me to the old Jew, with
whom I have lived ever since until this day."
" I sought that Jew, for I had learned that
thou wrast with him," returned Alphion, folding
the maiden again to his bosom. "I saw him
but half an hour after the pasha had taken thee
way, and since then I have watched about this
place. I was in the garden when they brought
thee to this room, and I saw thee pass in. I
saw the black when she came to light the lamp,
and when she was gone I staked my life upon
the hazard of reaching thee. A friendly vine
ave me access to the balcony of the corridor,
and with my dagger I easily picked the lock of
the outer door. Now flee with inc. A vessel
awaits my cominiig.'
"Flee?" murmured Lulee, gazing first into
Alphion's face, and then bowing her head until
it rested upon his bosom.
" Ay. Thou hast not forgotten our vows,
sweet Lulee. Thy heart is not-"
"-sh! Mistake me not. 0, Alphion, for
this long year I have only lived in the love of
thy noble heart. In the darkest hour of all
that time I have never wholly lost my hope of
seeing thee once more. Flee? 0, -yes. I could
face a thousand deaths so that I only gained a
step towards the land of my birth, and the
home of my father. Lead the way, beloved.'
Lulee raised her head from her lover's shoul
der as she spoke, and she had just turned to
obtain a light capote which hung near, when'a
heavy step was heard in the corridor. The
lovers started with affright, for now each had
something besidai.sel-at stake. -
" Flee !" gasped Lulee.
P But whither ?" asked Alphion, gazing quick
There was no place within the apartment ihr
concealment, and if there hail been the youth
could not have reached it, for hardly had the
words pa..ed from his lips when the door w.s
opened, and Gail, entered the chamber; and as
he gave utterance to an oath of astonishment
and rage, Alphiona drew his dagger. But faih
:moved not towards him. lie took a wi.er
course. As soon as le could compreheni the
meaning of what he saw, lie leaped back into
the corridor and called out for his alaves. It so
happened that four stout eunuchs were engaged
within a short distance, and they were quickly
upom the spot.
"In there !" cried Gaib. pointing to the room:
he had just left. "Seize the dog and hind him!
The eunuchs ruhed in with Vatalmas drawn.
and but for Lulee the youth would hanve beeni
instantly killed, for lie had prepared to fight to
the last. She knew his bold, daring spirit, and
she saw the danger which thareated him ; so shet
threw herself npjon him, murmuring as she did
so "lDie not now, Alphaion."
On the next mnoment the youth wvas seized
by both arms, andi he could resist no more.
"Away with him !" shouted Gaib. " Take
him to the prison and tell the keeper the pasha
sent hi .
The ill-fated youth cast one look upon Lulee
ere he was led away, and as he turned from her
she fell fainting to'thme floor. Gaib raised hera
up and laid haer upon a seat, and then called
some of the womien, who were quickly on hand.
The young man wvaited an hour, but Lulee still
remained unconscious, anid he retired. Once
she opened her eyes, ad a ray of intelligence
gleamed therefrom, but it quickly passed away.
Midnight came, and- Gaib returned to the
chamber, but hc found thme beautiful Greek now
raving. H~e stood awhile by her side, but she
seemed not to know him.
" That wvas a jacwin, or some evil genie, whc
came in here," said one of thae women.
But Gaib made no reply. lie waited until
he was assured that she had not her senses, and
then he departed. Two of the femnales were
left to watch by the couch of the Greek. It
was some two hours after Gaib had gone that
Luee opened her eyes and found the two wo
men asleep. She gazed quickly about, and
then she clasped her hands and prayed, and the
aame of Alphion was in her prayer. While
she was thius enigagedl, one of the wat!chers
awoke. In an instant the expression of Lulee's
countenance changed, and only mecaningless
words dro)pped from her lips.
"Poor ting!" P uttered thme sympathizmg
black. " It was surely some child of dlarknless
who canme here to see hier-perhaps Eblis him
self Fair lady, how feel you?"
"ha, ha, ha," laughed Lulee, with a wild ex
preion. And then she muttered over manym
words of no meamning.
The dayhighat camne, and (Gaib visited his slave
mgain, hut lie.gained no reason from her. He
sent for the physician, and when the min of
drugs caine, lie asked him to cure his beaumtiful
beloed. The physician examined her case,
and thlen shook his head.
' 11er reason hiathi left her," lie said.
"But what shall cure lier ?" aisked Gaih.
"Somec of my medicine, and patience," an
swered the p~hysicianm.
Accordingly he dealt omit some simple druigs,
and promisedi to call agnain onr the followinah
iornig, if no't sent for before.
Oce during the day Lulee was lelt alone, fori
hicr attendanits thouglht her asleep. Wheni they
wee gone, lhe arose to a sitting piosture and
clasped her hands.
"0 God of all mercy !" she calmly but fer
veatly prayed, " save himi,, () save himn ! Lit
nat the hand of evil fall upon him,." Thenu she
howedl her head, and not until she heard the
footsteps of the coming attendant did she lie
down again And when the attendant liad
caie that look of intellinence had passedl away,
an' t he hone t wi men who watched lher thonghtl
her still inane.
.And so the night came again, and when Gail
came he found his purchased bride still insensi
uml .bharmaiOa Hetraied upon haafe
moments in silence, and then, with a sudden
earnestness, be clasped his hands and hastened
from the apartment.
Alphion sat upon the cold stone floor of one'
of the deep, strong dungeons of the prison of
Ismid. The day had gone, and the deep black
ness of starless night was upon him. No chains
were yet upon his limbs, for the dangeon was
strong enough. He sat there, with his hands
clasped, and he only looked for death to release
him from the place. Thus he sat when the
sound of feet were heard without-then came
the creaking of the heavy bolts--and then the
door was opened, as t.:e prisoner could tell, not
only by the grating of the rusty hinges, but also I
by the stream of light which came pouring into
the dungeon. The new-comer was enveloped
in a sort of long peredjee, but for a while the
sudden transition to such light deprived the
prisoner of the power of sight.
"Prisoner," spoke the intruder, placing his
lantern upon a low wooden bench, "I have
come to ask a few questions of thee; and if
you value your future welfare, you will give
me truthful answers."
It was the voice of Gaib. The youthful pris
oner knew it in a moment. But ere he an
swered, his eves had become used to the light,
and he could now quite plainly distinguish his
" Speak on," he calmly answered, rising to
his feet ; for until this moment he had remain
ed in a sitting position.
" You were in one of the apartments of the
pasha's harem last night, and with the young
Greek girl, named Lulee ?" said Gaib.
" I was," replied Alphion.
"Now tell me why you were there ?"
The prisoner paused ere he answered, but lie
finally resolved to tell the truth.
"I will tell you," he said, at length: " Long
ere the gentle Lulee was torn away from her
home I knew and loved her, and, more than
that, she loved me. I had asked her to become
my wire, and she had promised. When the
foul Turk stole her away I was absent. 0, had
I been there they should have found their graves
in the sands of our coast ! But I was away.
When I returned, Lulee was gone. 11er poor
old father limped out and told me the sail story.
le had seen the whole, but lie could not pre
vent it. I started oil and for the long year I
have searched in vain until yesterday, when I
learned that she had been taken to your se
"And why came you to her ?"
is To free her from your power."
" And for nothing else?"
cc-:lse ?" repeated Alphion, with a burning
cheek. " Beware, sir, that you do not-"
"hold," uttered Gaib, in a tone of relief. " I
believe your words. I feared at first that you
meant a more accnrsed blow than to deprive me
of her presence. But I knew not why you were
ther.i, and hence have I come to see you."
" Did not Lulee tell thee ?"
" No. She could not."
" Could not ?"
" No. Her mind is unbalanced. She has
spoken-neord., f sense -since- y rnwere'ilthf
The Greek youth started as he heard this.
aid for a moment he stood as one fear-trmuck ;
but on the next instant he trembled as thugh
an electric shock hail passed through his system.
anl then his fiatures settled into a look of
Is the maiden sick ?" he asked ; but in a
toime which, to a close observer, wmouid have
shownm tlat his real thmoughts ha1 not lui t " do
with the question.
" Not Very," was the answer.
P Poor ilee !" miurinarel Alphion, sowine
hii. head and covering hi ine e With) his hw.
' Thou art lost ti i ihreer !" Yet idle iipeaker
lost not siit of his vi-it'r, for had Gaib looked
sharply lie might have seen, like a dianmond inl
the dark with a single ray of light reflected
from it, the glaming of the youth's dark eye.
But Gail I suspected naothimg. lie believed
that the G reek's agony hail criushecd him, lIe
stood. with his hads fohled in his capote, silent
Iv and earnestly regarding the pirisoner. In ain
intant thme Greek biommded forwamrd and forced
Gaib back upon the woodeii beinch, and, erc thme
astounided nian could recover, his short sabre
wa taken fromi him and he wais defeneeless.
"Now, foul Turk," uttered Alphiion, between
his clececd teeth, " thou art in nmy power, and
as sure as there is a Great Spirit who sees us
both, I will kill thee if thou dost not obey iec!
Mark me-I fear not the takinig of thy life, fo.
well do I know that I have been doomed. I
would kill thee as 1 would crush the asp I found
among my choice fruit !"
"Mercy ! Do not iurder me here in cold
blood ! 1 will cry-"
"-sh !" interrupted the Greek. " Make but
one sound above thy breath, and this weapon,
finds thy heart. 1 speak not idly now. But
obey me, and thou shalt be spared. Do as I
bid thee, and i'll harm thee not."
"And what wouldst thou ?" Gaib gasped,
" Remove thy capote and thy beneish-thy
sash and belt-thy shoes and trowsers, and cap.
" But wherefore this 7"
" To save me the work of killing thee, and
then taking these things from thy dead body."
" But what want you withI them ?"
" Mind you not that. I eonly bid you remove
the garments.-Byv the powers of heaveni, sir,
you live not a minute longer if you hesitate !"
Gaib gazed upon the prisoner's powerful frame
-he felt the iron grip up)on his arim-and, more
over, he saw the gleamaing sabre pointed to his
heart. With a deep groan lie threw off hisfer
ede", or capote ; then lie removeid his beneish
a cloth garment, worn over thme linen jubbee.
But here lie hesitated.
" What would you do with these things ?"
he eagerly asked.
"Why, since thou art so inquisitive, I will
tell thee: i would make may escape from this
accursed pla5ce ; anid when once clear of it I will
never be found ini Ismnid again. Now oilf with
thy shoes, and then the trowsers."
" Ha ! Shall I strike ?"
" Hold ! Mercy !"
"Quick, then !"
Gaib quickly divested himself of~ his shoes
anal trowsers, and when thias was donethie
Greek seized him and threw him down. 'With
his handkerchief lie firmly bound thme young
Turk's arms behind hlim, and' then with his red
woollen scarf, or sash, lie as firmly bound his
leg. This done, he lifted Gaib to a sitting pos
ture, and thenm, with the latter's own kerchief,
heoun up his mouth so firmly that he could
not utter a sound above a mere guttural groan.
Aliun's next nmove was to remove his own
uper garmnents, and ini their place lie donned
to~e ot his victin. When lie had wound Gaib's
sash about his loins, and buckled on his sabre,
and donned thme heavily tasselled cap, he turned
to thme bound man, and s'iaid:
" Now I fancy that T may pass in the (lark
for thme pashia's son. If thme jailor treats you as
well as lie did me, lie will- bring you a erust of
bread ini the morning, and then he may set yon
free. Farewell-and if I rever see yon again,|
you may keep may poor arents iii remem-|
'uansa af Oie whO hah TJ IaE d you in dtz
rance for a few hourthat lhe might escape an
ignomiious death." (;
The poor Turk ma a desperate movement,!
but he could not a' o his feet, and without
waiting longer, Alph picked up the lantern
and turned towards door. When he reached
the low vaulted p , he closed the door af
ter him and bolted'. and then he hastened
away toward the a . He 'remembered well
the way by which . cone down, and he
had no difficultydn' ng the same way back.
He had to asceiid on one flight of steps, and
though the upper co or was long and narrow,
yet it was straight, ere long the fugitive
came to the office; ere were two Arnaoots
there, one of whom asleep over a sort of
leewan, while the oth sat bobbing his head
over his pipe. But both started up as Al
phion entered, and ked as energetic and
wakeful as two w
"Suppose I leave t lantern here," said the
Greek, imitating Gai voice as nearly as pos
sible, and hiding the ,mperfection that might
exist in a grunting, lty whisper. He knew
not whether the lanteti belonged to the prison!
or not, but he was oni e safe side.
" As you please, jel "of the age," returned
one of the Albanians, owing low.
So the youth sett lantern down; but as
lie was about to turn Way, the last speaker
"Does the dog die .morrow ?"
"Yes. But you ; carry him his break
"We will obey."
In a few minutes M the youthful Greek
was in the street. H felt assured now, and
with a bolder step, he tened on. There was
no moon, but the stars' ere all out, and Alphion
knew his way.
Lulee lay upon her uch, and near her sat
two female blacks. 0 of them was sleeping
while the other kept ch. The maiden seem
ed to be sleeping, thokh ever and anon her
eyes would open, and e iucoherent senltences
f1d1 from her lips. Th she lay when the door
of the apartment oper, ,~and a man entered.
" Who is it ?" aske ulce, in a quick 1vhis
" It is our master- '
"Slave.,," spoke the truder, turning his face
from the light., and let ,g the heavy tassels of
his cap dangle Over hi' row and eyes, "leave
me with my betrothed r a while. Go to your
own apartments and si. p, and when I am tired
of watching I will sent or thee."
This was spoken in ow, hoarse whisper, as
though the speaker w afraid of disturbing
the seeming sleeper.. e .slaves seemed glad
to obey the order, for ey quickly arose, and
with low bows, they i e their way from the
room. When their f teps had died away in
the distance, the .yo turned towards the
"Luleu!" he prono d, in a low, sweet
The maiden started t3 tlta wild miovement.
"Who spoke ?" she' d; gazing into the
man's face.., - ..-.: ..
" hVL t no o , ve one. -TIs thine
own Alplhion. But say-is thy mind strong
The maiden moved quickl v-forward and threw
her arms about her lover's neck.
" Yes, yes, Alphion-and it has not been oth
erwise. It was but a deception of mine to stay
the ireadil sate which seemed to near. Bu.
how is this? -arely, this is Gaib's garb."
ie.-; and Gaib now lies bound in the very'
Ilungent w riiie I was thrown. Ile came to
learn who anid what I was, seeing that. he could
pain uuthir Fon you. But wait not now ; we
a.ni talk of this li.reafter. hasten now and
prepare thyself, fbr the way is open before us.
Belore I cameii up I saw that one of t:me gates
ta open. amnil the coast clear. U, hasten, Ju
ie, nd1 look bollyll lorward, for liberty and
home are before us !"
Lulee needed no second bidding. She threw
on .uchl a:rtiles of clthing as were at hand,
ndl then turned to h&r loveir. Hle led thbe way
to the corridor, and from thence out upon the
balcony. There ie uwouid the long, silken
sch fr'oin his loin,, and quickly kiiotinig the
end, ie bade Lulee seize it and hold fast. Then
he lifted her~ over the railing, aiid withoumt difll
cuitv loweredl her to the earth. Then lie fol
lwed by umeans of the grapije vine, which lie
had used once before, amid when lie reached ihe
nmaiden's side he caught her hand and led her
o.ietly away through the garden. Thie gate
was found andl readily opened, anid in a few
nioments mlore they were in the street.
Once they were stopped by a janizary, who
seemed to have just awakened hfroim a sound
sleep, but he detained them not, fo: lie quickly
eogized the son of the pasha. Alphion touk
hway towards the southern portionm of the
city, and with rapid steps they kept on until
they had reached the foot of the hill upon which
the town stands, aiid shortly afterwards the
youth stopped before a small wooden house and
knocked loudly, at the same time giving a
whistle peculiar to the Greek boatmeni. In a
few moments the door was opened, and a man,
habited in the garb of a Greek sailor, made his
appearance with a small lantern in his handl.
"Otho," spoke the applicanit, "I am here
with my holy prize. 0, if you love me, let us
be of' at once?"
"lia! Alphion? By heavens, 'tis!I But come
in. My crew are all on hand.--And is this our
gentle Lulee ?" the sailor continued, as he en
tered the house. "0, 'tis. You know -me,
" Yes, good Otho."
But enough of this. Time stout sailor wiped
a tear from his eye as he felt the gentle pres
sure of Lulee's warum lips upon his rough cheek,
ani then lie turned and left thme apartment. Ere
long lie returned, followed by ti ree others of
like profession, aiid Lulee quickly comprehended
that the noble, generous Oth" had volunmte -ed
~imself, his crew, and his vessel, in the wor - of
assisting Alphion to find anid to rescue her.
The party soon set out with Othio now for
their guide, and at the distance of half a mile they
came to a small cove wherein lay a boat. They
entered, and were soon skipping over the wind
rlied waters of the gulf. The vessel was
reached, and just as the moon aro'se, which told
that 'twis the hour of midnight, the sails were
spread, and uinder a'fair breeze the little polacca
itarted off'. Long before daylight the swiftly
flying craft hind reached the sea of Marmora,
and by the morning of the day after she enter
ed the Mediterranean. * *
At the door of a small cot which stood close
by the beach of .Dyro, where the mountains of
Maa sweep almost down to the water's edge,
and where lived those hardy Greeks who had
never bowed to the proud Turk, sat an old
man who held in one hand a crutch. His head
was silveredover with the frosts of many years,
aiid his once noble face was deeply furrowed
both by time and care. liesat there watching
the moveents of a polacca which had anchor
ed in the little bay. A boat wa's coining oft,
and lhe could see that 'twas full of his own
countrymen. Soonm it tmnched the beachi, and
a light form spirmg out upon the :sandm. It was
a female form---and with a wildly heiatinir heart
the old man started up.. On came the fairy-like
formi, bounding like a roe, and in a few momenta
sam sh alnne he anhia abount th, old man's
neck, and as a flood of warm tears gushed forth
she murmured the name of "Father."
" Lulee ! Lulec ! My own loved, lost Lulee !"
gasped the transported parent, as he strained
his child to his bosom.
Ay-it was Lulee ; and ere long Alphion also
came for the old man's blessing. And then
Otho and his noble followers came to share the
One bright Sabbath morning a happy party
were assembled in the little chapel of Dyro.
That same white-haired old man was there, and
so were Alphion and Lulee-and there the old
vow was repeated by the two youthful lovers,
and under its virtue the priest made them one
Luleo never heard from her Turkish master
again, and the memory of her servitude in Is
mid was but as the passing of a summer's cloud.
It gave her no pangs of grief nor did it ever
cause her to shuddt r, for now her happiness
was the more apparent, and the breath of her
native shores arnid mountains was made doubly
sweet by the contrast. She kept the little dag
ger, for it was to that she had once given
ber all of honor in charge; while her husband
kept the gaudy trappings of Gaib as a memento
Df that unfortunate wife-hunter, whom he had
left locked up in a dark dungeon, and who had
since, by the death of his father and sublime
appointment, become a pasha, but without a
An old man sits in a high-backed chair
Before an open door,
While the sun of a summer afternoon
Falls hot across the floor,
And the drowsy click of an ancient olock
Has notched the hour of four.
A breeze blows in and a breeze blows out
From the scented summer air,
And it flutters now on his wrinkled brow,
And now it lifts his hair,
And the leaded lid of his eye droops down,
And lie sleeps in his high-backed chair.
The old man sleeps, and the old man dreams,
His head drops on his breast,
His hands relax their feeble hold,
And fall to his lap in rest,
Th.- old man sleeps, and in sleep he dreams,
And in dreams again is blest.
The years unroll their fearful scroll;
He is a child again,
A mother's tones are in his car,
And drift across his brain;
Ile chases gaudy butterflies
Far down the rolling plain.
..HIa.plucks tha.wildrose.ir"the .voods,.. .
And . athers eglantine,
And holds the golden butter cups
Beneath his sister's chi";
And auels in the meadow brook
With a bent and naked pin.
He loiters down the grassy lane,
And by the brurming pol,
And a si:h escale his parte. lips,
As he hears the lil f.:- school i
And b- wi"..e. it were not nine o'clock.
And the :.lorniins neever ie re full.
A mntler's band is pressed en his head,
11er kiss is oni his brow
A snuner brecc blows at the door,
With the toss of a leafy bough,
and the boy is a white haired mun again,
And his eyes are tear-filled now.
CHE SUNBEAM, THE DEW-DROP AND THE ROSE.
ii Tils iPiasiAN.
A la~w-rrnm- hung trembhling lhke a tiid'
lng upon the soft velvet leaf~ ot a Rlose. It
pakldad idashred, eaich timue he brreez'e woued
he rose-bud, with myvirada of brilliamt hueis,
ill it seemed as it'a rainbow had beena imiprison
d within its ervstal bosomi, and was struggling
o0 escape. Novw the Rose beheld it~s beauty, anid
hrought shre had inever before seen so lo'vely a
reatre; so she spoke to it gently, in a voice
hat seemed like the essence of a sunmmer wmnd.
"Beautiful lDew-drop !" said the Rose, "I love
rou. Y~ou are ike the stars that I see looking
lown from heaven on mre when the wind wakeus
no at night ; but I love you more than 1 do
hem, for 1jon are near me, and they are far
uway. Come, dwell with ime for ever, sweet gem
>f the morning, and to thee will I unlock all the
ragrance of nmy bosom." -
Tfhe Rose, as sire spoke, unfolded her delicate
caves, until thin Dew-drop beheld the crimson
lepths of her heart, glowing with love and pas
Just then a sly Sunbeam peeped out from be
iind air embroidered cloud, and saw the Dew
lrop, which was quivering with emotion at thre
leclaration of the Rose.
" Heed not that foolish flower, sweet Dew
lrop !" cried the Sunbeam; ".she woul never
ove you as I can. Be mine, and I will bear
hee up amongst the highest stars of heaven,
nd when I look at thee thou shalt outshine thoem
The Dew-drop was bewildered, arid knew not
schat to say. it would gladlly have reigned in
he golden 'heavens arid been the queen of the
stars, but it feared the fierce ardour of the Sun
ieam ; arid then the Rose kept whispering such
sweet thines to it with its mossy lips, that it
sould not lIelp) loving its. gentle voice. So it
bought a little, arid then replied to the Sunbeam
'0 golden Sunbeam I who gazest at me with
thine eyes of' splendor; thou art far too great for
rne to love thee. What. would I, a poor tnmid
Dew-drop, do wedded to such mangmiicenrce as
:hine? At thy firrst ermbriace, 1 should melt
a~way, and vanish like tire morning mist upon
:he hills. But the sweet Rose I love dearly.
Eler kis.es are laden with perfume, and from her
b~osom steals forth all the fragrance of love. 0
od nd dbeautiful flower l ini thy rosy chalice I
will dwell for over and he happy !"
So saying, the Dew-drop slid gently down into
Le glowing bosom of the Rose, and nestled
among her velvet leaves.
Sensible Dew-drop!I well didst thou know that
it is not the love that dazzles most which brings
:he greatest peace. The love of the Sunbeam
would have been fatal to thee, while that of the
Rose gave thee happiness and contentment.
Love, like the skylark, though sometimes soar
inrg to heaven, still builds its nest upon the earth I
Tu CANE CaRP IN LouzsrAaN.-.An exten
nive planter, who has recently exanined a lrarge
iumber of phmaiatins in the parish of' St.
~Iaisy's, Louisiana, asoire4 the New Orlcans~
her, tnt the prro.-peet of thre mn xt sugar crop in
nagnificent. Never, :at thi. peiod of' tire year,
.1e3say~s, a, tihe apie.srmu.ee o the --u beenu
finer-, or tre shoots larger or more succulent.
hrhughout the wholo growving region of Louis
TOE COACHMAN WilO MARRIED iISEPLOY
The New York Times-of tnrday has the
following in relation to the laU secret marriage
between the daughter of Mr. Boker, a wealth]
merchant of that city, and his coachman:
Young Dean, the lucky coachman, has finall
agreed to give up his wife for a time and accep1
the pecuniary offers of her friends. Yesterda
his counsel received a letter from Mr. Boker'i
lawyer, proposing that Dean should go into bu
I siness in one of the Western cities-capital be
ing provided by Mr. Boker-and that he shouk
consent to be separated from his wife for the
period of six months, correspondence betweet
them being allowed during that time. Dean i
willing to accept the proposition, and thus the
subject is disposed of, for the present at least.
The Rev. Mr. Hatfield, who performed the
marriage ceremony, describes Mr. Dean as o
prepossessing appearance, gentlemanly address
and with nothing about him to show that h<
was of Irish o:-igin, but the slighest possibl
brogue. Mr. Dean called at his house on Tues
day, the 24th of last February, and enquired i
Mr. Hatfield would, on the following Saturday
tie the marriage knot for him. Mr. H. assent
ed. On Saturday, Mr. Deaf; presented himsel
and said his intended bride, who was engaged a:
servant in a gentleman's family close by, bas
been unable to perfect her arrangements, and il
was necessary to postpone the marriage unti
the ensuing Tuesday. To this Mr. H. agreed
appointing the time of day for the bridal part3
to call. Tuesday came, and the minister heke
himself in readiness to perform the ceremony
but he waited, and they did not appear. To
wards evening, however, Dean's friend came t<
the house and told the servant, that owing t<
the storm of the preceeding day, the young la
dy had been unable to finish up her househok
duties, and as she wanted to remain in hei
place some time longer, she did not wish hei
marriage known, but that they would cout
the next day.
Wednesday morning came-the couple also
and their two witnesses with them. Miss Bo.
ker was dressed as became her assumed station
not in silk and hoops, nor sparkling with dia
ivonds. Mr. Dean was neatly attired, and ac
ted like a well bred gentlemen. As the day
was muddy, and Mr. A.'s parlors had but late
ly been furnished with a new carpet, it was
deemed prudent that the ceremony should be
performed in the basement, which was a cozy
enough place, and there the marriage tool
At its conclusion, Dean took from his purse a
roll of bills, from which detaching a V, he deli
cately passed it over, politely inquiring if that
would satisfy the clergyman. Mr. H. bowed
an affirmative, and the happy party left, Mr. H,
remarking to his wife that the lady had evident
ly the best of that bargain. He thought .nc
more of the matter till his attention was called
to it on Tuesday last, from the statement in the
papers, when he found that instead, as he had
supposed, of making a poor servant girl happy,
had probably made a wealthy.familymiserable.
THE SOLE3IN FEAST OF LENT.
The term " Lent" is derived from the Saxon
word signifying Spring, filst, or the time of h
miliation observed by Christians before the Fes
tival of Easter. The Post corresponds with the
preparation of the Jews for the yearly expira
tior, and is, like other observances, of Jewish
origin. Their humiliation was forty days be
fore the expiatory sacrifice, aid that of the
Church being forty days before the expiatory
sacrifice of the Son of God upon the cross for
the ,ins of the world. It will be found by con
sulting Eusebi, i, that it was customary for the
Christians from the earliest ages to set a -:rt ia
portion of time for humiliation, prayer, f-ting
aid other devout exercises.
The number forty has been rendered in va
rious ways quite significant, and was appropri
ated to those special seasons of repentance. For
forty days the deluge covered the earth-forty
year~s the Israelites wanderecd ini the desert, un
til the whole generation except one was cut oil
-Moses fasted forty days on thme mount-Eijah
orty days in the wilderness-the Ninevites
were allowed forty days for repentance, and our
tle.ed Lord fat-ted forty days in the wilder-ness
at the couuniencement of the nministry on earth.
lienee it is that this practice has been followed
for amore than eighteeni hundred years. The
early Christians observed the season with great
strictness. N,> marriages were celebrated-no
festivals were held, except on Saturday and
Sunday-and except on these two days the Eu
charist was not consecrated during Lent. Otber
fasts ended at three o'clock in the afteriioon, but
this was kept up until evening. The propriety
and duty of observing this season we leave to
those whose proper oflce is to enforce thenm
from the sacred desk.
The observance of this season in another view
is highly beneflial. During the holidays, the
rjoiciigs have been connected with the choicest
vians, and consequently as Spring approaches,
the system is more predisposed than at other
times to disease, and uniles-s these humors be
eradicated in time, will proiuce much sickness.
By a proper abstinence, then, the body resumes
its natural tone, and good health continues.
Fasting, then, is good; indeed, much better
INFi.LE~ct: OF A Holy L:FE.-There is an
energy of' moral suasion in a good man's life,
passing the highest effort of the orator's genius.
The seen but silent beauty of holiness speaks
more eloquently of God and duty than the
tongues of men and of angels. Let parents
The best inheritance a parent can bequeath
to a child is a virtuous example, a legacy of
hallowed renmemberances and associations. 'fhe
beauty of holiness beaming through the life of
relative or friend, is more effectual to strengthen
such as do stand in virtue's ways, and raise up
those that are bowed down. thman precept,
command, entreaty, or warning. Christianity
itself, I believe, owes by far the greater part of
it mor-.d power, not to the precepts or parables
of Christ, but to his own character. The beauty
of that holiness which is enshrined in the four
brief biographics of the Man of Nazareth, has
done more, and will do more, to regenerate the
world and bring in everlasting righteousness
than all other agencies put together. It has
done more to spread his religon in the world
than all that has ever been preached or written
on the evidences of Christianity.-Chsaners.
IxT&axAvrosaJt "Doo Fioarr."-It is said
that at a great dog light at Bronte, Canada, on
Thursday, the 5th inst., the match was for $5,000
a side, and 'the result was the death of the
Buffalo dog, which expired after a severe combat
of two hours and fifteen miinutes, the Montreal
dog, although victor, barely escaped alive.
Parties of the " fancy" were there from all parts
of the United States and Canada. The Buff'alo
Republic says there was a loss in bets of about
S-10,000 t.o lhe A mericani party. A fter the death
of " Tiuker."' he~ was desp-msited in a handsome
b~lak wv' *m e -la and ' 'maht to B3utalo foi
burialn. it is said that mnany of the Buffalo
getry were so affected at thn den'th of thieir
ihvrite,' tt th~ev actually shed [ear-s oner thi
dm .idbr of'Inar*
"GOOD AND BETTER."
A father sat by the chimney post
On a winter's day, enjoying a roat; -
By his side a'maiden young and fair,
A girl with a wealth of golden hair; -
And she teased the father; stern and cold,
t With a question of duty, trite and old:
" Say, father, what shall a maiden'do
When a man of merit comes to wool
And, father, what of this pain in my breast'
Married or single-which is the best 1"
.'hen the sire of the maiden young and fair,
The girl of the wealth of golden hair
lHe answers as ever do father, cold,
To the question of duty, trite and old;
" She who weddeth keeps God's-letter;
f- She who weds not, doeth better."
Then meekly answered the maiden fair,
The girl with the wealth of golden hair;"
"I will keep the sense of the Holy Letter,
f Content to do WELL without doing samaN."
DR. FANEINI'S ONLY So,'
f While the name of Dr. Franklin has been.so
prominently before the public of late, in oon.
I nection with the celebration at Boston, -it may
t not be uninteresting to give some account of
1 his only son, William, about whom we-think lit
, tle is known by the community at large. Un-.:
r. like his father, whose chief claim to veneratione
I is for the invaluable services he repdered his.
country in her greatest need, the. son was, from
first to last, a devoted loyalist. Before the Revo- --
lutionary war he held several civil andimilitary
offices of importance. At the commencement -
of the war he held the office of Governor of New
1 Jersey, which appointment he received in 1706.
When the difficulties between the mother coun
try and. the colonists were coming to a crisis, he
threw his whole influence favor in of loyalty, and
endeavored to prevent the'Lengislative Assembly
from sanctioning the proceedings of the General
Congress at Philadelphia.- These efforts, how- "
ever, did little to stay the tide of popular senti
ment in favor of resistence to tyranny, and soon
involved him in difficulty. He was deposed by
the Whigs to give place to William Livingston, ''
and sent a prisoner to Connecticut, where he
remained for two years in East Windsor, in the
house of Capt. Ebenezer Grant, near where the
Theological Semit.ary now stands. In 1778 he
was exchanged, and soon after went to England. -
There he spent the remainder of his-life, receiv
ing a pension from the British Government for
the losses he had sustained by his fidelity. He -
died in 1818, at the age of eighty-two.
As might be expected, his opposition to the'
cause of liberty, so dear to the heart of his fath
er, produced an estrangement between 'them.?
For years they had no intercourse. When, in
1784, the son wrote to his ifather; in his reply
Dr. Franklin says, "Nothing has ever hurt me
so much, and af me with-sach- keen send
tions, as.to find myself desertediua o
n un "taling up'arui against Mme in a-eass
wherein my good fame, fortune, and life were
all nt'atake." In his will also, he alludeslo the
part his .on had acted. After making-him some
'equests, he adds: "The part he acted against
meic in the late war, which is of.public notoriety,
wi!l account for my leaving him - no nore of an
est:ate which hg endeavored to deprive me of."
The patriotism of the father stands forth all the
brighter when contrasted with the desertion of
the son.-Newburyport Herald.
A STUBBORN STRIPLING.
" Once upon a time" a big, strapping, awk
ward youth, fresh from Vcrnont, entered the
Dummer Ac.ulemy at Byfield, Massac'Lusetti, for
a little share of erudition, which is doled out at
this Temple of Alinerva at economical prices.
At that time-.we know not how it is at pre
scnt-the boys and girls were kept in one apart
meant, only the middle aisle separating aem.
One day, this Vermont stripling, who had just
been helping one of the girls through b ard
sum-he wvas cute on cypheriing-thought it not
imore than lair that he shoul take toll for his
valuable services; accordingly he threw his
stalwart arm around the rosy damsel and gave
ier a sly but rousing smack which startled the
whole assembly. " Jedediah Tower, come up
aiere !" roared out the preceptor.
The delinquent appeared, his face glowing
wi~h blushes like a red-hot warning pan, and
looking at'silly as a ninny. " Hold out your
hand, air !" said the pedagogue. "Pfl teach you
not to act thus in this institution."
The huge paw was extended in a horizontal
tine towards the instructor, who surveyed its
broad surface with a mathematical eye, calcula
ting how many strokes of his small ferul it
would take to cover the large number of square -
inches which it contained.
"Sedediahi," at length he said, " this is the
first time that you have been called up for any
delinquency ; now, sir, if you will say that you
are sorry for what you have done, I will letyoua
oil' this time without punishment."
"Sorry," exclaimed the youngster, striking
an attitude of pride and indignation; "sorry I
N-, sir ! I am not. AndlIwill do jest so again ~
ef I hey a chance. So, put on, old feller, jest
as hard as you like. By the jumpin' Je hoeni
phat ! P'd stand here and let you lick me till
kingdom kum, afore I'd be sorry at that-by
thunder, I would!l"-Boston Post.
ANECDOTE OF A GEORGIA JUDGE.-In I85-,
there was tried in the -- Circuit of Georgia,
a case of involuntary manslaughter, in the ex
pressive language of a witness, the, accused,,
while drunk, pulled out his knife, and "soh
ing it about," struck the deceased in .th'e abdo
men. The attending physician being called to
the stand to make tihe usual proof of the nature
and extent of the wound, testified, "that the
knife entered the lower portion of the abdomen,
penetrating the peritoneum, and thence extend
ing through the omentum, to the vicinity of the
illiac regions." ThE clerk, to whom all of this
wias Greek, inquired of the Solicitor-General if
he desired that portion of the doctor's testimo
ny taken down. The Solicitor anticipating
some fun, replied in the affirmative, and re
quested the doctor to repeat it slowly,: which
he did, in language, if possible, more incomipre
sible. Judge A., losing his accustotned suavity of -
manner, impatiently exclaimed: "Doctor, stop,
for God's sake, stop; if the man was cut in the -,,
guts, say so, so the clerk can put~. it down."
The doctor has since .studiously avoided the.
use of technicalities in the presence of the un -
PRasEnvATIoN OF A CoRPS.--The followin'
remarkable statement appears in alate numnber o
the Vicksburg (Miss.) S.entinel:..- -
" We were present on the 27th instant at the'
disinterment of . the reigrains of Mrs. Mary Jane. '
Tompkins, first consort of Honorable P.<iJ ' . -.
Tompkins, former member of Congress of this.> '
district, and a sister of Ex-Governor Helm, of. *
Kentucky. She had *been interred seventeen
years on the 4th inotant, enclosed in .a sine .
coffin, filled with alcohol,.which was ze-enclosed
in a wooden coffin, and all carefully packed. in
charcoal. The wooden coffin and the t~of te -
zine one wre somwhiat decayed,:but shs~gri* . ..
. ial. i u.a perfet state; of-,.-'er-ia