Fireside Ballads.
Yumggynrsmr.

BY DEXTER SMITH.

 

 

The farmer dozen in his chair.

And from his hands has drop his paper,
While Tabby, running here . "
Seems quite inclined to “ cut a caper;

The n e tire- lace is all aglow .
WithgmddyIflames, which light the kitchen,

They flush the checks of Patience Show. ’
And make the lass look quite bewitchin .

Dame Snow knits at a rapid rate.

In “ narrowing " the farmer‘s stocking——
When, at the door nearest the Bug. _

‘3  ‘ “starters-38'
AEI‘dUI‘Pgfiiéci-ggl wining, her thoughts revealing.
Her face with each successive bound,

Just like the apples she is peeling.

“ ' isit out
“$233393”; tho’Iit? Take a chair. sir."
To t he dame’s welcome. quaint, yet true, _ "
Thefarmer adds “ How do yeou fare, strr
“ Fust rate! I thank yeou—thaz li—good
keeps a cough," says Peletiah;
Adds Patience putting on more wood,
“Yeou’d better hitch up to the tire. ’
“ . w des ret cold it’s been. so fur l"
HfzoI neversee’d such awful weather."
“ Yeour mother, w'ot’s become 0’ her?
Why didn‘t yeou run in together i"
“ We hain‘t seen yeour folks much this week."
“Think I saw Aunt Jerush . Sunday.”
“ Yas. she was down with Unc e Zeke I
And stayed with aunt and him till Monday.”

“ Heow air yeou on this year fur hops t”
The farmer asks of Peletiah
“ I think as how We had d crOps,
Considerin’ that help was higher;
We had less ’taters, though, this year,
An’ corn, I think, was scanty, rayther;
It didn‘t half till out the ear.
And didn’t pay, as i told fayther.“

They sit and talk before the fire,
, The conversation slowly waning,
Till Farmer Snow and dams regre,
The lad and lass alone remaining;
Now. Peletiah’scmrage goes; . ' "
He says that he "must he again ;
“ I shouldn't wonder if it froze!
When I come in, it lacked like suowin’."

“ Yeou needn’t hurrv. I am sure;
It isn’t late yet, Peletiah.
Yeou‘ll catch more cold. so near the door;
Du hitch veour cheer up near the fire."
“ I didn’t cal’lat-e. when I come.
To stop much more’n an hour or tu, neow,
But seuce yeou urge me so. I snum,
I don‘t keer, hardly, ef I do, neow."

Now, for full half an hour. they sit,
While scarce a word is passed between them,
His suit progressing not a whit,
(As if young Cupid had not Seen them);
At len th he says, with nasal twang.
“who was that young beau with you Sunday i"
The lass replied. “ Neow yeou go langi
He‘s coming here again next Mon day. ”

Poor Peletiah’s face now grows

Much darker than the c oak-neck squashes
Which hang along in golden rows

Up where the ruddy flrelight flashes.

“ Neow Patience don ’t be such a rule.”

He says; “ tell me, right eout, yeour reason,

I 3‘ yeou‘ll go tn singing-skew]
ith me this term? yeou did last season."

“ Wal. I dunno,” the maid replies;
” l’ll hev tu think the matter over,"
While from her dark and rogutsh eyes
Her heart looks out upon her lover.
He says: “ I’ve know’d ycou ueow for years."
Adds Patience: “ Wal. why, yeou don’t say sol
Jest see that kitten on them cheers:
I think 1 never seeId her play so 2"

“ Neow, Patience Show, will yeou be still,

and understood what to e t when ordered
into the resence of Mr. Blac , the superintend-
ent and ' two visitors.

He knew that his mother had, before her
death, 'ven the institution full control over him
during ‘ minority, and that Mr. Blackhad the
power to bind him out to whomsoever he might

lease. .
p And now that he had been presented to the
Fishers, he instantly took a positive dislike to
them, and foresaw that if he was indentured to
them, it would be anything but a pleasant life
he would lead.
Quick to form impressions, and yet ever won-
derfully correct in ' estimates of people,
he knew the Fishers would be hard rs.
“ Master Perkins ” Mr. Black said, “these
people, whom know by reputation to be
t e most respectable, kind and charitable folks,
have come here today for the purpose of adopt-
ing from this institution one 0 you unfortunate
boys, who have been dependent upon the county
for your sup rt. Mr. and Mrs. Fisher, while
well-to-do in t is world’s goods, have no offspring
of their own, and as years have advanced a long-
‘ for a son has come over them—a desire to
fie to their hearts some youthful spirit, who
would be alike their child, assistant and comfort
as they go down the path of life. How would
you like to be apprenticed to them? Of course,
you know, that is merely a term for being adopt-
ed as their son. They‘lpifer you a home, and
eventually, if youare ' d and lovingtothem,
you will be reward .”
“ Yas, that’s a fact,” Joshua Fisher declared.
“ If you come to live with us, and are a. thrifty,
industrious boy, and do what fyou are told to,
we sha’n’t—at least I sha’n’t— orget you in my
° 7

“ Don’t on go to makin’ promises ahead, Josh
Fisher,” the warned, sharply. “ You
know well enough I’ll outlive you, and I’d like
to know who is going to be boss then—me, or
some one else?”
“Oh! you— ou, of course,” Joshua hastened
to declare. “ ou always hev worn the breeches,
an’ I s’pose you always will!” ,

“ tpresume I have as much right to as you i”
was e retort.
“ Well, you can settle the matter of attire at
another time,” Superintendent Black interposed,
a little impztiently. “ And now, Master Per-

kins what ve you to say!” '
“ I don’t suppOSe I have an sayin the matter,
have I?” Pete re lied. “ so, Mr. Black, I

should rather stay ere at the house until I have
a better knowledge of the painter’s trade.”
“Most like! , sir, but you are tting to be a
good-sized, ab e-bodied lad and t e county can-
not undertake to keep in idleneS those who are
able to work. You are much older than the av‘
erage run of boys who are bound out from here,
and as 10 as we have an opportunity to secure
you a home, and a prospective bright fu-
ture, it is our duty to exercise our superior judg-
ment and do so.”

“ Ve likely you’re partly right,” Pete re lied:
“ but, Sir, I would prefer not to be boun out
to do any one’s drudgery. If I am old enough
to work, as ou sa —and I have no doubt but
what I am—— am 0 d enough and strong enough
to go out upon the world and earn my own liv-
- m

“Now there, will you listen Joshua Fisher?
D’ye hear him? ause he is able to do a chore
he thinks he ought to be his own boss! My!
what conceity and obstinate brats there are in
this world I”

“ Oh! shut up,” Fisher retorted. “ How d’ye
s’ the child will like ye, ef ye pitch at him
112E262 mad bull? You hain’t no sense. Let the
boy alone till he does bad afore ye try to lam-
bastc him.”

Then, turning to Pete, he added:

 

And tell me w‘ot yeou mean by teasiu’!
I til it]: I‘ll go—I vuml will,

Ef yeou doan‘t gtv’ me some good reason
Fur flirtiu‘ so, when folks all know

Wal—that is — ev‘rybu'dy ’round ere
Knows that we‘ve been attentive —w—

As euny tu that ken be faound here.”

“ Wal, Peletiah, ’us tu much!”
“Patience, will you be mine former!”
The maiden smiles (an answer such
. As lovers prize most dearly ever).
“ And neow,” says Peletiah. “ who
Was that ‘ere chap 7” Says she, “ Don't bother!
Wal, really it's time yeou knew—
’Cos, pretty soon, he‘ll be yeour brother!"

Poor-House Pete,

The Postal-Clerk Detective;
on.
The Secrets of Phasing...
BY EDWARD L. WHEELER
CHAPTER I.

THE POOR-HOUSE WAIF.
“ HE’S a peart—lookin’ lad, strong

 

 

 

take him, Samantha!”

And Farmer Joshua Fisher readjusted his
spectdcles and surveyed the sub 'ect of his 0 in-
ion, with his pinched, wea er-beaten ace
drawn into a severe! critical e ression.

And Mrs. Samant Fisher pxorked a inch of
snuff up one of her nostrils, and drew or new
shawl closer about her spare figure, in a way
calculatedtoexpressashrugof i .

“I am sure it’s none of my business, Joshua
Fisher,” she replied, in a tone sharp and rasping.
“ Ef ye want to adopt a beggar from the county
house, an’ fetch him up to sass and abuse you,
you can do it—I don’t! And what’s more—if
you bring the boy around my house, he’s got to
mind me, or I’ll clear him out in quick order.”

“ To be sure on will—most certainl on will,
Samantha!” and Fisher took it upon If to
sht his shoulders.

“ very one knows, for miles around, that
you wear the brooches, or else there’s thunder-
ation to pay. The boy will have to mind, of
course, or Doctor Birch will attend to his jacket.
I fanc I hain’t forgot how to flog a lad yet, if it
have in two-score 0’ years since I used ter
teach the young idea how few shoot l”

“If ou desire to adopt a boy, sir, I am con-
fident ter Perkins will be just the lad for
Eon,” saidthe alms-house superintendent. “ Since

ewas left in our charge, destitute and friend-
1383, behesbeen a very good sort of lad, and I
 the making of a smart young man of

The show conversation occurred in the pri-
vate office of the Superintendent of the B———
County Poor-house, one pleasant August after-
noon.

The corpulent superintendent had been awak-
ened from a pleasant st'cstab the arrival of Mr.
and Mrs. Joshua Fisher, we —to-do old-country
people, of the someWhat ancient class, who had
called with a View of adopting from the 1'-
house some bright and active lad who con (1 do
chores at the farm and take that burden from
their shoulders. .

The B— County Alms-househadseveral boys
in char 0 whom it was in their power to bind
out to desirable parties, and Master Peter Per-
kins being one of the brightest, he had been
brought from the worksho of the institution to

be inspected b Mr. and l 1‘s. Fisher.
Per ins co (1 hardly be termed a boy inre.
gard to size.

For although not yet» Sovcntccn years of age,
he had attained a man’s average hight, and was
broad-shouldered, stout-limbcd and rugged and
strong.

His face was rather 'a handsome one, particu-

larly denoting that he owucd an easy, good—na-
tured. irit, while his mouth habitually wore a
waggis expression and his discerning brown
eyes a. look of shrcwdncss.
. He had already bccn some six months in the
Institution, at the time of the Fishers” visit, and
his mother having died there, he had had no pa 1‘-
ticular idea of leaving the place until ho had fin-
ished learning his trade at painting, providing
he was allowed to remain.

He knew the rules of the institution, however,

an’ active,
'm’ I reckon like enough we can’t do bettcr’n

“That’s all right, boy; you come to Fisher
Farm to live, and you’ll get better to eat an’
wear than ye do here, hev a chance to go to
school, an’ eve hing will be 0. K. 0’ course
. Samantha gits t e tantrums once in a while, but
that’s natteral wi’ most women, I reckon.”

“ If I’m bound out to you I’ll have to stay till
I am twenty-one, will I 1

“Sart’in. The first two years ye won’t be
wu’th yer board an’ clothes, so. nothin’ ’bout

er schoolin’, an’ after that it  I keep me hust-
Iin’ to get the vally 0’ your keepin’ out 0’ ye an’

save a perm for myself.”

“ Do you 've on a farm?” Pete asked.

“ Yap—the best farm in B— county, of I do
as it.

x Where is your farm situated?”

“ Jest a mile an’ a half from W~—-—. Ef you‘re

right smart and quick, you can go to taown for
the mail sometimes.”

Pete laughed.

“The inducement is certainly enticing,” he
said, dryly. “ It happens, sir, that I have been
in many more attractive towns and cities than
W——, before misfortune attacked mother and
myself. If I am bound out to you, sir, I wish,
you to always bear in mind that my mother
was a lady, my father a gentleman, an that, al-
though I am at present an inmate of a poor-
house, my education has not been al ther
neglected—that my principles are honorab e, my

ride just, and my spirit unconquerable, exce t
y kindness. Only one condition of affairs co (1
ever cause me to consent to be bound out, as a
literal slave, to another man, to do his work for
the sim 1e remuneration of victuals and cloth-
in . That condition is that it was my mother’s
desire that I should be bound out until I was of
age, she probably believing that such imprison-
ment would keep me away from bad society.
Consequently, sir, I cannot refuse to be inden-
tured to you, owmg to my loving remembrance
of my angel mother. If bound out to you, I will
do your bidding sir, but only in such manner as
I behave to be right and just. But I will not be
tyrannized over, by you nor any other person,
as lon as I have a particle of spirit or strength
in myfiiody. That is all 1”

Standing proudly erect, and lookin as hand-
some as a young Hercules, even t ough his
clothing was of but the commonest kind, youn
Perkins uttered the speech with a spirit whic
spoke plainly enough that he meant exactly
what he said.

And while Superintendent Black was secretly
elated at Pete’s spirit, the Fishers looked as if
dumfounded at the be ’S audacity.

“See! see!” snap Mrs. Fis er—“you see,

don’t ou, Joshua ‘isher, how it will 0? You
won’t ve the boy a day before he wi want to
run the entire establishment. The idea! A

pauper wantin’to put on the airs of a gentle-
man! It’s ridiculous—outrageous !”

“Will you dry up?” growled Fisher. “I’ll
have no trouble getting along with him if
ou’ll only keep your blamed tongue still. Mr.
uperintcndent, fix out the papers, and we’ll
get back home before it’s milkm time I”

“ Are you ready to go, Master erkins?” Black
demanded.

“ Supposing I refuse to go at all?” Pete de-
mended.

“That’s out of the question !” was the stern
reply. “If I indenture you to Mr. Fisher, the
papers will warrant him in forcing you to go
providing you are obstinate, and the law will
uphold him in punishin you, as an incor-
rigible in case you do not implicitly obe him in
everything, the same as if you were '5 own
son.’

“ It will, ch?” and the spirited gleam returned
to the youth's cycs. “ “'ell, I supposed slavery
days were over, Mr. Black, but it would seem
not from your tell. If you propose to bind the
out, go ahead and fix out the spots, and I Will
accompany these people to t eir home, and re-
main there as long as I am treated kindly.
When they tr to play the tyrant over Pete Per-
kins, they wil need to hunt. up some other poor
lad,_tw,lio is not possessed of an independent
spin .

“ 0h! I’ll crush yer independent spirit when I
get ye to the farm!” Joshua F ishcr thought,
while his vinegar—visa ed Spouse pressed her thin
lips together in spitefu silence, as Superintend-
cnt Black’s pen scratched over several pagcs of
legal cap, which were to make Peter Perkins
the “bound boy” of Joshua Fisher, farmer, of
the town of “7—.

And the papers were duly signed, and in an
hour afterward Poor—house Pete was en route

for Fisher Farm and about to enter into a new
£356 of existence, which was destined to guide

‘ into many a novel and exciting adventure
and situation.

 

CHAPTER II.

‘ ‘ FIRST BLOOD. ”
WHEN the Fishers and their new bound boy
left the town, which was the county seat of
B— county, the da. was well advanced, and as
— was some eig t miles distant, there was a
fair prospect that it would be dark ere the desti-
nation was reached, taking into consideration
that the sky was overcast with clouds, that fore-
told the coming of a. rain-storm, and another
drawback in the shape of Fisher’s horses’ in—
ability to get off of a very slow species of dog-
trot.
Indeed, their scrawny appearance was suffi-
cient cause for their slow motion, coupled with
the fact that they were attached to a heavy
lumber wagon which might have constituted one
of the Fishers’ first pieces of matrimonial per-
sonal property.
The old man and woman occupied the high
spring seat at the fore of the wagon, while Pete
was left to help himself to a. seat upon a. sparse
array of straw on the bottom of the wagon—box
in their rear.
On leaving B— behind, the Fishers entered
into what was evidently a spirited conversation,
but it was neverthless conducted in such an un-
dertone as to be inaudible to Petehadhe been
inclined to listen, which he was not, for his mind
was busicd in wondering what the future had in
store for him—wondering if, after all, it would
not be a benefit to get away from the poor-
house.
He was already well enough satisfied that he
would have  but a leasant time with
the Fisher fam1ly; but then e had made u his
mind that if he could not get along agreeab y in
this new home he would leave it, no matter if he
was “ bound out,”—given away like a piece of
proPertY- . . . . .
It was his mtentlon, however, to remain With
the Fishers, even if he had to bear numerous
little insults, for he wanted to be near W——— for
awhile at least.
His desire to do so was the mystery concern-

m himself.

file and his mother had traveled from lace to
place ever since he could remember, un ' finally
she was taken sick at B— and her money be-
in exhausted, some charitable people had pro-
vi ed her and the boy a place in the poor—house.

Here, of quick consumption, she had died, and
upon her death—bed she had attempted to tell her
son why she had traveled so long and far, but
death came too quickly, and all that Pete could
understand was that if she had not been taken
sick until she reached W————, she would have
been at the end of her journey.

She had often 5 ken to Pete of his father in
loving terms, but 6 could not remember of ever
having seen him, or of her mentioning positively
whether he was livin or dead.

After his mother’s eath, however, he had had
many a. thought about the matter, and had come
to the conclusion that there was something for
him to learn in regard to himself, and the place
for him to learn it was at W—.

Hence he had more readil assented to being
bound out to the Fishers, 1: an he would have
done but for the facts just mentioned.

The route from B— to the Fisher homestead
was through one of the richest farming sections
of the State. On either side the road was bor-
dered by handsome fences, and numerous costly
residences; the crops sh0wed great care in culti-
vation, and weeds evident] were not in favor.

The road had been turnpiked and graveled at
large expense; in fact. on every hand was evi-
dence that the residents of B—-— county were
people of thrift and means.

Althou b not particularly in love with the con-
veyance, etc rather enjoyed the ride and won-
dered as the scrawny team jogged along if he
would ever be able to own a rest ence as desira-
ble as those they were passing every few min—
utes.

The prospects of immediate riches were not
extraordmar , when he came to consider that
he was boun out for over four years.

It was nearly dark when the town of W—
was reached—for the Fishers were obli 'to
pass through the village in order to reac their

arm.

The horses were by this time prett well
fagged out and could not be got off a. we ,,de—

its all the farmer’s chirping and pulling on
t e lines.

After a. half-hour’s toiling along a bustling
main street, the lumber we on drew u in front
of a pretentious brick building over w ose door
swun a ilt—lettered sigh announcing that it
was t e “ 0st Office.”

“Whoa l” Joshua Fisher sung out, at the
same time ulling back on the lines, vigorously
enough to ave stopped a. team of elephants, and
evidently blind to the fact that the poor brutes
he drove were only too willing to take a rest.
“ Git you out there, Peter, an’ go ax the post-
master if my Tribune has come. I’ll be danged
ef it ain’t on time this week, I’ll make ’em send
my money back. Come! Don’t set there aup—
in like a monkey l—git out, an’ do as I tel ye!”

Without a word Pete leaped nimny from the
w on, while his spirit rebelled at the language
ofatfiie farmer.

W—-—— was a “fly” town. To use a slang
phrase, poor people had “ no show” there, as al-
most everybody was well-to-do. It was ad' -
cent to a thriving city and was plogmlated
“the aristocracy ;’ it had a magn' cent semi-
nary for boys and girls, a few stores, a large
number of magnificent homes, and counted itself
one of the élite towns of that particular section
of the State.

Every like town has its youn bloods, and
W——— was well supplied with t ' particular
commodity.

There were some eight or ten of these well-
dressed young “ gentlemen,” lounging about the
entrance to t e post-office, as Pete got out of the
wagon. He was conscious that as many critical
pairs of eyes, were turned upon him, and also at
once perceived that old Fisher’s journey to the
poor-house had become known to them for one
of the fellows, as Peter advanced, calle out:

“Look, boysl—old Fisher has fished in the
poor-house and caught a tramp l”

“ My! Ain’t he a daisy?”

“ A regular lah-de—dah l”

“ From the poor-house?”

“Yes. A pauper!”

“ He won’t last long around these parts.”

Young Perkins heard but quietly mounted
the steps and entered t e st-oifice, although
the insults sent the blood tingling through his

vems.
lVithin doors he encountered another party of
ouths, of about his own age, but they were
Kind enough to give him only a supercilious
glance, and give each other a nudge, as much as
to say:

“ 1911 me what it is, and you can have it!” as
the ssed from the office.

T2,) 1is surprise, on presenting himself at the

choral-delivery window, Pete found it attended
y a very pretty irl of about his own age—a
well-dressed, intel igent miss, with the prettiest
pair of eyes, and the sweetest-expressioned
mouth, it had ever been his good fortune to be-
bold.
Those wondrous orbs, indeed, seemed to in‘
ventory Pete at a lance, and he felt that he
would much rather ave faced a cannon than
their scrutiny.
“Ahem! is there any mail for Mr. Joshua
Fisher?” he managed to articulate, afterward
wondering how he contrived to do it, for he felt
the blood mounting to his temples.

“I believe there is a pa 1', sir. Yes, here it
is—thc Tribune. That is t e only postal matter
the Fishers ever ct,” and the pretty post-
mistress smiled. “ ixcuse me, but are you the
young gentleman who is to live with the Fish-
ers?”

“ I am the uper they have adopted from the
poor—house,” etc replied, candidly, as he put
the paper in his pocket. “ “’hy?" and he gazed
at her so keenly that a flush of embarrassment
swept over her face.

“ Oh, nothing particularly; I saw you get out

 

 

 

of the wagon, and had heard that it: was their
intention to adopt another boy,” she replied.

“ Another?” Pete echoed.

“ Oh yes. IV ere you not aware that they had
another boy? They did have, however—but do
not let me detain you. The Fishers are very
disagreeable people, and will scold you like
everything if you delay a minute. I don’t envy
you 1your position.”

“ don’t believe I shall fall in love with it,”
Pete replied, with a. faint smile. “ But they
may fin that I have somewhat of a will of my
own. Do you know the Fishers, personally?”
The girl glanced about her quickly, evidently
to see if she would be overheard, then pressed
her face closer to the window-grating.

“ I could tell you lots about them,” she an—
swered, hastily.‘ “My father’s farm adjoins
theirs, you know. Wait! I have it. You will
be forced to go tobedat nine o’clock. Ever one
at the Fisher place retires at that time. VIThen
you are satisfied all are asleep, climb out of the
trap onto the roof, and drop to the ground.
Then come to the bridge that spans the creek,
and I will tell you muc that will be necessary
for you to know. Good-by !”

And with this parting, Pete’s first acquaint-
ance in W—-——— vanished from view.

“By George! there’s some consolation that
I’ve heard one friendly word uttered!” he mused,
as he turned and left the post-office. “I won-
der who she is, and what she wants to tell me!”
As he left the office, he paid no attention to
the “ bloods” who had jeered at him when he
entered. ‘

It would have been better for him had he
looked sharply about him, however, for he had
not taken half a dozen steps toward the street,
when he tripped against a. rope that had been
stretched across the veranda, and fell sprawling
upon the hard asphaltum sidewalk.

In falling his nose struck heavily, and the
blood spurtcd from it in a stream.

He was upon his feet in an instant, and per-
ceived that two of these young fellows had been
the cause of his downfall, they having held the
ro that he tripped over.

‘ Hurrah! first blood, and the pauper down!”
one of the twain cried, while the others clapped
their hands and laughed boisterously.

“ You cowardl curs! I’ll show you to whom
the first blood be ongs!” Pete cried, dashing the
blood from his face. “If I am a pauper I’ll
show you you can’t insult me, you ill-bred loaf-
ers!” and making a. bound forward, he struck
one of the “bloods” full in the face, knocking
him down, and then with a savage ejaculation,
turned upon the others, aiming telling blows
right and left with the precision of a veteran
pugilist.

 

CHAPTER III.
THE INITIATION.
BLOW after blow he struck, right and left, and
by the time two of the sons of aristocracy lay
stretched upon the sidewalk and others had re—
ceived discolored eyes and bloody noses, the
eifete ang were so terrorized that; they fled
from t e veranda in hot haste, and when he
stood alone a laugh rung from Pete’s lips.

“ When you want; another dose of pauperism,
you miserable dudes, give me a call!” he cried;
then, turning, he clambered into the wa on.

The Fishers had watched the proc ' gs in
grim silence, their hard, vinegary visages never
once indicating that they were particularly con-
cerned whether Pete got the worst of it or not.
The moment Pete took his seat in the bottom
of the wagon the old man “ licked” up the
horses, and the vehicle rolled away out of town.

Nor after the village was left behind dld Fisher
or his wife pay any attention to their bound boy,
but kept up a conversation between themselves,
in an undertone, the subject of which Pete be—
lieved was in reference to himself.

“ I wonder if this is a calm that recedes the
storm?” Pete mused. “ They’re not eepin’ mum
without some reason, an’ it strikes me they are
holding back in anticipation of giving me an in-
itiatory whaling when they get- home. ’

But, whatever punishment might be in store
for him Pete could not help but feel consolation
at one t ' g: be had vanquished the nobby gang
at the villa e, and the pretty young deputy post-
mistress , without doubt, witnessed the whole
affair. If she was the kind of a girl he had
taken her to be, his prowess would raise him sev-
eral degrees in her estimation, a consideration
that his youthful pride coveted.

It was pretty near dusk when the wagon
reached the Fisher farm-house.

Unlike the many other elegant rural residences,
the home of the Fishers was one of those old-
time, man -gabled stone houses, some of which,
yet standing, date back to Colonial days. It
was a three-and-a—half-story edifice, covering a
considerable area, plastered on the exterior, and
largely overgrown with vines from the ound
to its huge chimneys, the vine-work gliding
homes for thousands of sparrows. '

All in all it was a. grim, gaunt and weird-
looking abode, surroun ed by a grove of tower-
‘ ruce trees, and the whole inclosed by a
bi h, tight board fence painted white.

ust back of the Fisher farm-house was a lake
of no insi ' cant size, bordered on three sides
by m ' cent; farming land, and on the fourth
by a densely-timbered and forbidding-looking ce~
dar swam .

The out st of the lake was a small creek which
crossed the highway not far from the farm-
house. Its source, as far as any one knew, was
from springs in the swamp—for few people were
there who cared to penetrate to the inner re-
cesses of the swamp, which covered thousands
of acres, and was said to be a treacherous place
for human feet to tread.

A considerable bluff arose from the rear of
the house, and ended abruptly at the lake, the
water’s edge at the front of it being thicker
with ta -e ders and rushes, some of which grew
8. consi erable distance out into the lake.

Besides the farm-house itself, all of the out-
buildings of the premises, and garden and or-
chard, were included within the inclosure, so
that once within this inclosure a person was
literal] shut out from the world. It would have
been a ard matter for any one to get into the
farm—yard without prying off one of the boards,
for the to of the fence was ornamented with
shar spi es driven closely together, and the
pon erous gates were kept constantly locked.

At night, too, a savage bull-dog was turned
loose within the grounds, and as a natural c011-
sequence, tramps who knew anything about;
Fisher Farm gave it a wide berth, and those who
“ worked the racket” once never attempted it
a am.
As Joshua Fisher drew rein before the great
double gates, he turned gruflly to Poor-house
Pete.

“Come, you lazy—bones, git out an’ pull the
bell-knob what yc’ll find nigh the latch!” he
rowled; “ and don’t let it take ye all night, or
’11 cowhide you within an inch 0’ yer life!”

“ Before you go to threatening, you had bet;—
ter give time to telling what you want done,”
Pete returned, prom tlfi, as he sprung from the-
wagon and rung the?» .

“Hear him, will ye?" snarled Mrs. Fisher,
beating her foot u on the dashboard of the we.-
gon. “Oh, but tell ye, Josh Fisher, it’s a
sorry’day when you bring that young whelp
here!”

“You shet up yer mouth!” Fisher retorted.
“ Are you runmn’ the boy, or am 1, I’d like to

know?‘

“Oh, you are—of course you are!” was the
save. e res use.

“ hen ll ’bend to his case—mot you 1” Fisher
declared.

The bell was soon answered; the gates were
unlocked and swung inward by a burly, red—
whiskercd farm-hand, whose huge fists looked as
if he might be able to fell a bullock at a single
blow.

As soon as the gates were opened, Fisher
drove within the inclosurc, Pete following the
we. on, and assisting to close one of the gates.

e also assisted to put away the team and
fodder the stock, the red-whiskered individual,
whose name proved to be Hank Honcybce. or-
dering him about 111 surly tones, and liitcrpolut-

his directions frequently with broad oaths.

    
 
 

ever, but performed the tasks assigned him in
the best manner he knew how.

At length, the chores for the night being done,
Hank turned to him, grufll ;
“ Ye kin cum along to the house now l” he
said. “ I allow the ole man will want for see ye
afore ye turn in!”

“ Very well; I am ready,” Pete replied.

“ You’d better be, an’ e’d better hold a civil
tongue in yer head w 'e ye’re gittin’whaled.
or ye’re liable ter cum up missin’, like Tom
Thornton did!”

“ While I’m getting ‘ whaled ’l” Petc echoed.
“Pray, what’ll be ‘ whaled’ for!”

Hank laughed coarsely.

“Oh, them’s the old man’s rules. He allcrs
licks a new boy within an inch of his life, to
conker his speerit front the start. An’ dangcd
ef I don’t think hc’s purty sensible in doin’ it!”
“Well, I don’t!” Pete retorted, with em-
phasis, "and until I’ve merited punishment, I
don’t ropose to submit to it—no, sir-cc l”

“. aybe you won’t'” was the significant rc-
ply, and at the same instant a powerful grasp
seized Pete by the back of the neck, and he was
shoved along before the burly farm—hand, as
though he had been but an eight— ear—old child.
Direct to the rear entrance of t e farm-house
the bound boy was pushed, thence into a wood-
shed, and next into a large but dimly-lighted
kitchen, where Joshua Fisher and his unamiable
spouse were seated at; a table. A bottle and
glasses were between them, and a. heavy “ raw-
hide ” whip was lying before the farmer.

“ Ha! you’ve fetched him, hev e?” old Fisher
gruntcd, as Hank gave Pete a shove headlong
into one corner of the room.

“ Yes, I’ve fetched him!” and the ruflian grin—
ned, diabolically. “ He allowed he wouldn’t
take the gad; but I reckon when I snatched him
by the back 0’ the neck he changed his opinion!”
“Oh! I’ll ’tend to his case!” Fisher declared,
laying hold of the rawhide. “I wasn’t a peda-
gogue fer ten year all fer nothin.’ Yank his

uds off !” .

Pete had by this time regained his feet. and
stood facing his enemies, his eyes flashing
defiance—for enemies he now knew them to be—
brutal, heartless and cruel.

“ Strip yourself to the waist!” Hank ordered,
gn’ml . “ N 0 monkeyin’ about et, nuther, or

’11 jerk ye out 0’ yer skin. Off wi’ yer coat an’
shirt, I say l”

“ I won’t!” Pete cried, with emphasis. “ I
have done nothing to deserve punishment, and I
won’t stand it!”

“ Ye won’t, hey?” roared old Fisher, springing
to his feet. .

“ Ye won’t, won’t ye?” screamed Samantha.

“ Oh! ye won’t ?” chorused the rufiian Hank
Honeybee, and with the cry he leaped forward
upon the boy.

Pete was not unprepared for the assault. As
Honeybee came lunging toward him, he hauled
off, and let him have a stinging blow in the face,
and then, as that did not check him, he clinched
with him, and a. desperate struggle ensued.

Although a man of more than ordinary
strength, the ruflian found that he had grappled
with no baby, for in a. few seconds the two went
crashing to the floor, a result of Pete’s tripping
science, and Honeybee was underneath, and the
chances were that he would have got the worst
of the bargain had not the Fishers interfered at
this juncture, and torn Pete from his adver-

sar .

Oyhce relieved of his dangerous antagonist,
Honeybee quickly came to the assistance of his
emplo ers, and the clothes were literally torn
from ete’s form and his feet and wrists securely
bound. Then, while Samantha Fisher and
Honeybee seized him and held him erect, Joshua
Fisher can ht the rawhide in a ven eful grasp
gdkappli the lash vigorously to t e victim‘s

0

Every stroke left a bloody mark, and must
have caused the most excruciating pain, but the
brave youth never uttered a whimper.

His teeth were set; his face was stern and
rigid; he stood proudly erect, disdaining the
support of the brutes on either side of him, a.
look of unutterable scorn and defiance in his
9 es—stood there a hero, almost a martyr, until

e blood ran down his back and sides in streams
and his flesh was in numerous instances cut open
to the very bone!

Stood there, until the inhuman torture, reso-
lute as he was deprived him of his senses—then
he fell forwar , breaking from the grasp of Sa-
émantha and Honeybee, and went crashing to the

oor.
(To be continued. )

 

A Dead Man’s Story.

BY EBEN E. REXFORD.

 

 

YOU wonder that my hair is so thickly streaked
with silver while I am yet so young in years?
Perhaps your locks would have been as white as
mine if ypu had passed such an ordeal as that
which w 'tened m hair, and gave me a. memory
to carry through ' e of the most exquisite suf-
ferinlg a man can undergo.

Te itto you? Ugh! I shiver to think of it!
Everything connected with that terrible experi-
ence comes up before me so vividly that I seem
to be living over that time of suspense and keen-
est anguish. I do not like to think of it, conse-
quently I tell the story to but few; but, if you
care to listen, I will to it to you, and I am sure
you will not wonder that; my hair is thickly
threaded with gray, when I am done.

I was, as you know, in the late war. In the
battle of Fair Oaks I was struck by a ball in the
shoulder, and for many hours after receiving my
wound was insensible.

When I came to my senses or, rather, when
my senses came back to me, was being con-
veyed in an ambulance to the hospital. The
joltin of the wagon over the rough roads
cause almost unendurable pain in my wounded
shoulder. At times I was almost crazed with
physical suffering, and by the time the hospital
to which I had been ordered was reached. I was
so weak and exhausted that it: was only with dif—
ficulty that I could speak loud enough to make
111 se f heard by the attendants.

was taken from the ambulance immediately
on its arrival at the hospital, and carried to a.
neat, comfortable room, where a good bed had
been rovided for me. Shortly after being in-
stalle in my new premises, the surgeon visited
me.

He was a kindly—featured, leasant~voiccd
man, and proceeded to ask me c ecrfully about
my wound before he examined it. Seeing 110w
very weak I was, he gave me some potion which
quieted me at once. 0 then proceeded to ex-
amine my wound.

I saw that he considered amputation neces-
sary before he had finished his inspection of my
shoulder.

“ I won’t. lose my arm!" I cried, with all the
energy I could muster. “ I can tell by your
looks what you think about it, and I‘d rather
suffer any amount of pain than the loss of my
arm.”

“But—you might lose your life, you sec,” 110
said.

“ I’d about as licf die, and be done with it, as
to go about with one arm,” I answered. “ I’ll
never consent to any operation that will deprive
me of my arm, never!’

He reasoned with me, but all in vain. Finally,
be dealt out some grayish powders in small por—
tions, and then left me.

Shortly after that the nurse having charge of
that ward of the hospital came in, and. saying
that he had received instructions front the sur-
geon as to the care I was to rcccivc, be mixed
one of the small powders in a little water and

ave it to me. I swallowed tlic bittcl‘ dnsc, won-
ering what the end of all this tvould bc.

Then I fell into a broken, troubled slccp, from
which I awoke to the coim'iousncss of u kccn,
knife-like pain which dm'tcd front my shoulder
through all my nerves, and ran tingling to the
extremities of my tocs.

In this condition the surgeon found me on his
next visit.

 

 

in
Pets uttered no word of remonstrance, how-

" 1 foresaw how it would be,” he said. “ You