h
 
 -sik (Slintpse of 2buric<w fife. 
 
 BY 
 
 WALTER MARCH. 
 
 NEW YORK : 
 
 BUNCE & BROTHER, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 No. 126 NASSAU STREET. 
 
 MDCCCLVI.
 
 EJCTKHID mcording; to Act of Congivss, in the year 13SH, bv 
 
 B U N E & BROTHER, 
 In th Clerk s Office of the Ditrict Court of the U. 9. for the Southern Ditrict of.Naw Yoik. 
 
 W. H. T.xso.N, Stereoty 
 
 & Co., Priuters.
 
 ilnnllrrtinns, 
 
 B T R U N G TOOK T H K K , I, I K K INDIAN BEADS, 
 INTO A 
 
 WAMPUM OF FRIENDSHIP, 
 
 ARE RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 
 TO 
 
 CO LONE I, CHARLES O. OREENE 
 
 { tfit Boston 
 
 BY HIS U X \V K T II Y F R I E X I) . 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 2047315
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 A LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR TO THE PUBLISHER. 
 
 MR. PUBLISHER : 
 
 I send you, by the hands of a mutual friend, a pair 
 of Shoepacs, or, old-fashioned Canadian shoes. 
 
 J Happening to sojourn a few days recently at the ancient City of 
 Detroit, I crossed over the beautiful straits which separate it from 
 Canada, and there, to my surprise and delight, I found the article for sale 
 at a smart, modern, country shop. After I had bought them, a good- 
 humored old Frenchman or " Kennuck " passed that way, who laughed 
 heartily at my simplicity in making such a purchase. When I assured 
 him earnestly that the celebrated La Salle, and the famous Hennepin and 
 Marquette, nay, probably Montcalm himself, had worn Shoepacs, he only 
 laughed the more ; and that too in spite of my word and honor for it 
 that these men were all highly distinguished in the history of Canada, 
 his own land for he had never heard of one of them. But when I told 
 him that I had once worn them myself, and that, with them, I had trod 
 the long and wintry road which led up to what little rank and fortune 
 I had secured thus far in life, he grew serious at once, and was polite 
 enough to believe me his gay humor rose even to respect. 
 
 On being questioned, he told me that Shoepacs were yet in use among 
 the old-fashioned, humble people of this part of Canada those who still 
 earn their living by working in the woods, killing ducks, and catching 
 white tish. He remembered the very first Frenchman in all the region
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 round about, who had the extravagance, or even courage, to put on a 
 pair of modern shoes ; and what a sensation he created as he drove up 
 to church in a calash, alighted and helped out his wife, and strutted up 
 the path leading to the church-door. The people were gathered in the 
 yard, waiting for the bell to ring fcr service, laughing and talking, and 
 some even wickedly cracking eggs : and when the new shoes appeared, 
 they pointed them out to each other, exclaiming, au large. au large! 
 room ! room ! and made way right and left, with mock bows and pre 
 tended ceremony, for the enviable possessor of such a treasure. 
 
 Ah, "room! room!" is the word that expresses the history of the 
 Northwest. The moccasin must make room for the Shoepac, and the 
 Shoepac, in its turn, for the iron heel of the British, and all together 
 exclaim 
 
 " Room ! room ! for the American 1" 
 
 It was at the period when Indian, Frenchman, Briton, and American 
 commingled harmoniously together, and there was room enough for all 
 and to spare, that the story of my " Recollections " commences. 
 
 I remain, sir, with profound respect, 
 Your friend, 
 
 WALTER MARCH.
 
 C O N T E N T S . 
 
 Q 
 I. OUR CITY, 
 
 II. PLEASANTRIES, ., . - . .* 
 
 24 
 III. OCR FAMILY, 
 
 . . . . .29 
 
 -i j . . 35 
 
 VI. THOSE LEFT, 
 
 IV. SUMMONED FROM ON HIGH, 
 
 V. THE DEPARTURE, 
 
 38 
 
 4fi 
 VII. THE MAGROYS, 
 
 VIII. SHOEPAC AND MOCCASIN, 58 
 
 IX. JOHN MARCH WRITES HOME, . . 69 
 
 X. GHOST STORIES, . 75 
 
 XL THE SCHOOLMASTER OUT WEST . . . ^. . 
 XII. A GLIMPSE OF SQUATTER LIKE, 
 
 108 
 
 XIII. THE RIVALS, . . . . & .123 
 
 XIV. FATHER AND SON, ..." 140 
 
 XV. CLOUDS, . . - . J 
 
 XVI. THE YOUNG ORATOR. . I 60 
 
 XVII. WILD OATS, . . 165 
 
 177 
 XVIII. THE JUMPSES, 
 
 XIX. MABEL AND JORAM, ". " " . .. . .191 
 
 XX. A DENOUEMENT, . . - I 97 
 
 XXI. MILLBROOK, . .-.:.* 204 
 
 XXII. MAJOR FONTEXOY VISITS Mil. MAGROY, 212 
 
 XXIII. MR. MAGROY HONORS LILAC COTTAGE, 223
 
 Till CONTENTS. 
 
 MH 
 XXIV. JOHN MARCH IS ABOUT TO KISB AXD BECOME A MAX OF THE 
 
 WOULD, . , . " , . .,. ...... 231 
 
 XXV. THE YOUNG COMMODORE, . . . . . . 234 
 
 XXVI. THE DRUM BEATS, . 242 
 
 XXVII. IX MOTIOX, . , . . ; . . * . . 253 
 
 XXVIII. TUB KITCHEN CABINET, 265 
 
 XXIX. THE FIELD WON, ......... 276 
 
 XXX. SWEET HOME, . . . . 286 
 
 XXXI. WHAT WAS SAID OX THE HOUSE-TOP, 291 
 
 XXXII. THE TRIAL, . . . ,.**. . . . 302 
 
 XXXIII. PROSPECT AND RETROSPECT, . . .. . . . .316 
 
 JEPTHA JUMPS S SPEECH, ...... . . . 325 
 
 THE BATTLE OF WINDSOR, ....... 332 
 
 THE SHOEPACS, 354
 
 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS, 
 
 OHAPTEK I. 
 
 OUR CITY. 
 
 OUKS was a little antiquated city. Its inhabitants 
 were mostly French. At the time I came upon the 
 stage of events, the transition to a modern American 
 town had scarcely commenced. The body of the popu 
 lation was still of the ancien regime. The few Ameri 
 cans were officers, or ex-officers, of cither the general or 
 territorial government, and their families, relations, 
 dependents, and friends, whom they had persuaded to 
 venture beyond the "jumping-off place," as Buffalo 
 was then termed. The spirit of emigration had not 
 been fully aroused ; and the spirit of speculation, if felt 
 at all, was confined to the fur-traders, a class made up 
 of all nations. 
 
 I cannot compare the society more nearly than to that 
 of some principal East India Company station in a city 
 of Ilindostan. There were the governor of the terri- 
 
 1*
 
 10 S H O E P A C RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 tory and his family, the judicial, executive, and military 
 functionaries, with their families and dependents; like 
 subahdar, nabobs, begums, and the lesser lights 
 traders and natives, French, Indian, and half-breed. 
 But one could not well imagine a pleasanter state of 
 feeling than mutually existed, with sufficient distinction 
 between the different castes or classes to prevent 
 \vrangling, and yet sufficient community of interest, 
 prejudice, and pleasure to make everybody sociable. 
 The French gave a tone of gaiety the military, both 
 elevation and hospitality. There were balls, where 
 everybody danced with everybody s wife and daugh 
 ter. There were theatricals, where the most dignified 
 
 t O 
 
 gentlemen took parts. It may be a mere whim, but I 
 think I never have elsewhere met such easy polish and 
 affability among gentlemen. There was 110 touchiness 
 about position in the social scale, and consequently 
 neither stiffness nor affectation ; and to this day, the 
 same easy grace of manner is notable among the sons 
 and daughters of the good old city. 
 
 The traveller, journeying at that period from ISTew 
 York westward, after leaving Albany, penetrated into 
 regions where civilization grew dimmer and dimmer as 
 he advanced, until he became quite certain of havinp- 
 passed the ultima thule, when he would stumble with 
 astonishment on our little community. There he would 
 be welcomed with a courtesy no less gracious, and a 
 hospitality much warmer than he would himself have 
 extended to a stranger in the metropolis.
 
 OUR CITY. 11 
 
 Yet there lie would behold the Frenchman, riding in 
 his two-wheeled cart to market with white fish and 
 onions, and screaming a rascally patois. Or he might 
 observe a wedding procession, of the same mercurial 
 race, driving through the principal or rather only 
 avenue, at full speed to church, two and two, in little 
 antique caleches ; the bride, of course, dressed in white, 
 but wearing no bonnet, though rejoicing in a veil 
 that sweeps the ground, and her bridesmaids driving 
 after, as bonnetless as herself a happy state of things 
 to which the dear ladies of the present day are fast 
 returning. 
 
 As he sauntered along up the street, he would see 
 old-fashioned buildings, stores and dwellings forming a 
 promiscuous row, with high gables and dormer-windows, 
 roofs peaked like Vandyke hats, with their edges 
 notched and painted red, and doors panelled into four 
 parts, and opening by subdivisions, like modern win 
 dow-shutters. Motley groups, consisting of French, 
 Americans, and Indians, sit with their sociable pipes 
 enjoying confabulations made up of words, nods, shrugs, 
 and the impenetrable " ugh ! ugh ! " of the taciturn red 
 man. Peeping into the halls and rooms as he passed, 
 he might here and there discern a carpet, but generally 
 the floors were covered with Indian mats. The shops 
 would be filled with bales of furs, gaudy-colored calicoes 
 known as Indian calicoes mococks of maple sugar, 
 broidered with painted porcupine quills, deerskins, 
 moccasins, and 1W " T " - : - 1 -
 
 12 SHOKPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 are now palmed off upon the curious and credulous 
 stranger at Niagara. 
 
 Often he may meet on the sidewalk an Indian some 
 dark Potowattimie, or tall, painted Sac or Fox one of 
 Nature s own noblemen, erect and martial in his bear 
 ing, and with a single ridge of stiff, black hair, standing 
 like the crest of a helmet on his head; or, peradven- 
 ture, groups of "VVinnebagoes, with blue blankets on 
 their handsome squaws, while their own arms, ears, and 
 noses would jingle with silver ornaments ; or, skulking 
 along, some thievish craven of a Mennomonie, whose 
 name was no less a term of reproach among the nobler 
 tribes, than that of the Samaritan with the disdainful 
 children of Judah. Passing above the town, he might 
 find large, conical, birch-bark tents pitched on the long 
 slope of the river bank, and graceful, light pirogues 
 drawn up in regular rows on the shore ; these belong to 
 the Indians, whom he may, if it chance to be payment 
 season, behold in hundreds, or even thousands. Succo 
 tash is boiling in huge iron or brass pots over the fires. 
 A small army of famished, wolfish-looking dogs lie 
 around, winking lazily in the sun ; and no smaller army 
 of naked children are running every where some 
 pitching bright coppers, others shooting with their bows 
 and arrows, and others swimming and diving in the lim 
 pid water ; while around on the trees or fence, or sides 
 of the wigwams, he may behold many infant papooses 
 sleeping in their hanging cradles of hide and birch ; or 
 with their heads strapped back, looking on the scene
 
 OURCITY. 13 
 
 with wise, unwinking eyes. They seldom cry, and are 
 no inapt representations of Patience on a monu 
 ment. 
 
 He would meet pretty, fawn-faced young squaws 
 who glance coquettishly at him, and no less so at them 
 selves, or rather some ornament, or little rude mirror 
 half-concealed on their persons. Xow and then one 
 peeps at him from behind the blanket at the tent-door. 
 Respectable elderly women would be sitting around, at 
 work on mococks, mats, or moccasins, or cooking game, 
 or pilfered chickens in the sugar-boiler, or smoking fish, 
 depending from a stick sustained over the fire by two 
 forked uprights. Shame to the Pale Faces ! he might 
 hear drunken noises issuing from a lodge here and 
 there ; or worse, see an Indian and his wife, or several 
 squaws by themselves, alternately caressing each other 
 and quarrelling, moved by the demon that lurks in fire 
 water. 
 
 There must be dark shadows in every picture, espe 
 cially in a picture of human life. 
 
 Gratefully, now, let him turn, at the soft sound of an 
 Indian flute, played with no great skill or variety of ca 
 dence, but plaintively, by some young dandy. It is a 
 reed, into which holes are burned for the gamut of 
 notes, and around it are wound deerskin thongs to pre 
 vent splitting. Possibly, your Indian Pan may be 
 joined by a musical brother on the drum, which is 
 naught else, after all, than a species of rude banjo a 
 skin drawn over a hoop, as everybody knows. Then
 
 1 -i S H O E P A C RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 fortunate the Gotliamite might deem himself to witness 
 an Indian dance at that comparatively primitive period. 
 
 As he strolls out further from the town, he is struck 
 with a peculiarity in the divisions of the farms; for 
 each one is but a narrow strip of land running back into 
 the woods two or three miles, so that every farmer may 
 have a front on the river. A hundred or so yards from 
 the beach stands the farm-house, similar to those already 
 described, with only more amplitude of dimensions, and 
 a broad, indolent, sun-loving porch, on which sleeps an 
 old dog practised no less in raccoon lore than experi 
 enced in swimming after wild-ducks. In cozy famili 
 arity, an old cat is blinking by his side, or purring as 
 she rubs her electric coat against his shaggy hair ; or 
 perched upon his back, a piping chicken is with diffi 
 culty balancing itself, as it picks at the flies which buzz 
 around his nose, or alight with a tickling mischief on 
 his lazily-flapping ears. 
 
 In front of the house are the cherry-trees, and in rear 
 the pear and apple-orchards ; and the traveller is sur 
 prised to find the best of fruit thus far beyond the pale 
 of civilization fruits brought from sunny France, and 
 planted by the skillful Jesuit ; apples, red to the core, 
 large and luscious ; cherries that rival nectarines ; and 
 pears of every variety, and of every season, from July 
 to November. Xor will the patch of onions escape his 
 notice : it is a Frenchman s flower-garden the invari 
 able concomitant of every family who may claim a foot 
 square <>f mother earth. The fish-net or seine is
 
 OUR CITY. 15 
 
 stretched on the fence. The long, flint-lock duck gnn, 
 with leathern pouch and powder-horn, is hung on 
 wooden hooks in the hall. The canoe is drawn up on 
 the beach. 
 
 But hark ! you hear the sound of distant voices come 
 stealing over the water. Turn towards the river. See 
 a long pirogue, or more ample Mackinaw boat per 
 haps a little fleet of them in- a single line, manned by 
 voyajeurs, or courreursdebois, and loaded with packs of 
 peltries. The oarsmen have fitted out at Mackinaw, to 
 appear in style at Detroit the greater station, and 
 nearer civilization. Probably the present is the glad 
 occasion to which they have looked forward, and they 
 have talked over their plans concerning it for many, 
 many months. Each gar$on h/is a sash around his 
 waist, and pulls a red oar. They keep perfect time 
 and it is joyous quick time with the notes of a French 
 song which was chanted in France a century ago : 
 
 " Jllalbrooks s en va t a guerrah ! " 
 
 Or perchance the air is one you may not recognize: 
 
 "A Lon-don day. 
 S en va couchcr ! " 
 
 No music could be more lively or inspiring. It comes 
 over the water is accompanied by the plash of oars. 
 It is roared out with the utmost spirit, too, by that most 
 glorious of all instruments, the human voice. It has 
 pealed through the woods, and over the rivers and lakes,
 
 16 BHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 for thousands of miles. It has animated those brave 
 adventurers in camp, at portage, through summer and 
 winter, rain and snow, sickness, peril, and death ; and 
 now, joy ! joy ! it greets the steeples of St. Ann ! The 
 children run out of the houses, down to the river shore, 
 to hear it ; the maiden turns pale, and blushes, and hur 
 ries to the door ; the old man hobbles out and waves 
 his hat. Troops of people rush down to the wharves 
 to see them land; and such shouts of welcome and 
 rejoicing never were known before.
 
 PLEASANTRIES. 17 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 PLEASANTRIES. 
 
 Stilled is the hum that through the hamlet broke, 
 When round the ruins of their ancient oak 
 The peasants flocked to hear the minstrel play, 
 And games and carols closed the busy day. 
 
 ROGERS. 
 
 An ! that was a happy time for everybody. Our 
 little community was not yet divided on the question of 
 Bibles in schools, or wine on the side-boards. Slavery 
 was little talked of, and as for disunion the mere word 
 was considered, by the veriest Kenuclc, as a profanation 
 of human language. 
 
 But as settlers from New England began to thicken 
 among us Bostonicuns they were indiscriminately de 
 nominated it gradually came to light that our lively 
 little community were scarce a grain better than the 
 wicked, nay than the very heathen ; witness the fiddling 
 and dancing on Sunday evenings (and pleasant Sunday 
 evenings they were deemed by us, in our dreadful igno 
 rance), wherever there was any little neighborhood of 
 French people on the great wide porch, or beneath 
 trees on the grass ; or, if in the house, with the doors
 
 IS SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 and windows thrown wide open. And there were the 
 prettiest and most mischievous-eyed French girls, 
 dancing away for dear life with the good-looking, frank- 
 mannered voyajeurs, or courreurs de bois, in their red, 
 yellow, or green sashes, long black hair, and blue calico 
 shirts. Such abominations attracted the "growing 
 attention" of the strict sober-sides from the land of Jon 
 athan Edwards, as he passed these dens of Apollyon, on 
 his way to the place where prayer was wont to be 
 made. Then \vas there not racing to church the year 
 round, and racing home again ? And were there not 
 regular trotting matches on the afternoons of the great 
 days of the church, which brought the people in from 
 the country, up and down the river? Especially, was 
 there ever anything like it in the winter season, when 
 the wicked river would even wink at these atrocities by 
 freezing over, so that nothing was seen on Sunday after 
 noons but carioles turned up in front, in a curl like a 
 skate, gliding, or rather flying, over the ice, two and 
 two? The little Canadian ponies held their tails up in 
 the air like banners, and their noses protruding into the 
 clouds, or snorting between their legs they trotting 
 like mad, while the gar$ons whooped like Indians, 
 shouting, whey ! avance ! arriez ! ever and anon steal 
 ing a flashing kiss from the bright demoiselles at their 
 sides. 
 
 Then on Easter morning, was not the church-yard of 
 St. Ann s fairly riotous with boys cracking painted 
 eggs ? Nay, in the same precincts, were not idolatries
 
 PLEASANTRIES. 19 
 
 frequently committed? Was not the Host carried in 
 procession by chanting Jesuits and nuns, to a high 
 mound called Mount Calvary, where there was a huge 
 cross, and beneath which lay the tomb of our Saviour? 
 Doubt not that these abominations smelt in the nostrils 
 of the sons of the Puritans. 
 
 But, in the time of my boyhood, the feud had not 
 taken any religious turn among the boys, who, I must 
 confess, were very far behind the boys of the present 
 day, and knew little of religious controversies, and 
 talked not dogmatically of these, nor of the various 
 ologies in which the present juvenile generation are so 
 good and wise. There was, however, a feud ; it was 
 the boys of one schoolyard against the boys of another 
 schoolyard, and easily waxed warm, in consequence of 
 any collision, invasion, or interference. It might occur 
 over a game of ball, or the schism might arise over a 
 combat between individuals of the two opposing schools, 
 which would always lead to a choice of champions, and 
 wager by battle to settle the respective merits; but 
 which generally raised new grounds of controversy, and 
 involved greater numbers, till each and every member 
 of one community stood ready to thrash each and every 
 member of equal size on the other side. 
 
 But as I have already hinted, the quarrel was not 
 bad enough to be stigmatized as a religious quarrel. In 
 fact there were many Catholic boys in the Protestant 
 school. And then they fought manfully against the 
 Arabs, as the enemy was called. War was usually car-
 
 20 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 ried on by words, sometimes by fisticuffs, and occasion 
 ally stones flew. And it was a curious tact in boy 
 phenomena, that those who had the longest tongues had 
 the shortest fists, and flung the fewest stones in the 
 enemy s face. I remember that once the windows of 
 our school-house were all smashed, and those of the 
 Arabs lying at a tempting distance began to suffer, 
 although protected by the awe we felt for the church 
 and its patron, St. Ann, in the holy precincts of whose 
 skirts it lay. One after another, however, holes were 
 visible in the windows of good St. Ann, till the swal 
 lows that flew in. and knew not how to fly out of her, 
 disturbed the devotions of the congregation, particularly 
 those of the wrathful priests, who taught the school 
 below on week-days, and performed mass above on 
 Sundays. Whereupon there were, on befitting occa 
 sions, watchings on the part of the brethren na} r , even 
 at unusual hours and when a slinger of stones was 
 caught, woe be unto him ! for the gates of mercy opened 
 not beneath the folds of the black gown. 
 
 Things would sometimes go so far as get to the ears 
 of the trustees and heads of the respective schools, 
 which event would most likely be followed up by a 
 conference between grave doctors, but which, unlike 
 most scholastic conferences, would result in an amicable 
 compromise between them. But the upshot of the 
 whole matter for us would be a judicious resort to that 
 rod, which, Solomon so strongly recommended. I never, 
 by the way, could be made to forgive Solomon for that
 
 PLEASANTRIES. 21 
 
 unkind proverb ; and I am sure that the " rod * was a 
 medicine rarely administered to the young prince, at 
 the hands of good old King David, otherwise he never 
 would have become so "spoilt" in his latter days. 
 
 Be this as it may, it was a settled opinion among the 
 boys, that more children are spoilt by the abuse of this 
 antiquated instrument of torture, than by the sparing 
 thereof. And it is with great joy I see, in the reforms 
 of the present enlightenment, a disposition to do away 
 with the rod ; and consequently a more manly, inde 
 pendent, self-sufficient, progressive, unbroken set of 
 young colts never have scampered over the world than 
 the young prize specimens of the present day. 
 
 The Yicar of St. Ann s was the pious and polished 
 old missionary, Father Robert. Where this son of the 
 Scarlet Lady hid his cloven foot, I never knew ; for of 
 all men he was beloved in our community even among 
 the unco yood Protestants. He was celebrated in the 
 Catholic annals of the Northwest for his learning, self- 
 devotion, and enthusiasm. He was the first to do honor 
 to the neglected remains of Father Marquette, the 
 explorer of the Mississippi. He established the first 
 newspaper ; though, whether this was an act of grace 
 and Christian charity, some of the Berkeleys of the day 
 may be disposed to doubt. He was likewise entrusted 
 with our interests at the seat of the Federal Govern 
 ment, as our territorial deputy to Congress,* and was 
 
 * The real name of the gentleman above alluded to is Father Richard. 
 The following is from Shea s History of the Catholic Missions :
 
 22 6 II O E P A C It E C O L L K C T I O N S . 
 
 acknowledged by everybody at home as the best- 
 hearted and most agreeable of men. lie did good Pro 
 testants the honor to respect their heretical prejudices, 
 and was a frequent visitor at their houses. 
 
 "Ah! Mrs. March," he would sometimes say to my 
 mother with great politeness, " if all Protestants were as 
 good Catholics as you, there would be no trouble in the 
 world." 
 
 Good old man ! he died before the evil days drew 
 nigh, or ere the men came who would have known him 
 not. 
 
 There was yet wanting in our cup another element of 
 
 " Soon after the outbreak of that terrible war on religion (the French 
 Revolution), the active and lat rious Sulpitian Gabriel Richard, was 
 stationed at Detroit. As early as 1799, he 
 
 visited Arbre Croche. where the Ottowas of Mackinaw then were. The 
 memory of the Jesuit missionaries was still fresh. Tradition had handed 
 do\vn the death of Marquette, invested with ornaments of romance; and 
 many were yet alive who could point to the favorite walk trodden by 
 Du Jaunay while reciting his breviary. * * * * Richard 
 visited the shores of [Lake] Michigan in 1821, and was conducted by the 
 Indians to the spot where Marquette had been first buried, and where, as 
 Richard supposes, his remains still lay. To honor the founder of Macki 
 naw, he raised a wooden cross at the spot, in the presence of eight 
 Ottawas and three Frenchmen, and with his penknife cut on the humble 
 monument (the only one ever raised to the honor of the discoverer of 
 
 the Mississippi). 
 
 Fr. Hi. Marquet, 
 l>ie.l here, 9th May, 1675. " 
 
 The fortunes of Marquette, Allonez, Brebeuf, Richard, and other 
 northwestern missionaries and explorers, form not the least poetic part 
 of our legendary lore. I am surprised that the field has been suffered 
 to lie so completely neglected by our litterateurs.
 
 PLEASANTRIES. 23 
 
 happy discord considered now indispensable in every 
 well-organized city the foreigner question. We 
 scarcely knew what foreigners were, except as brethren 
 in pursuit of fortune and happiness. The Frenchman 
 who left his cherries to the birds, his sheep to the dogs, 
 and his fish-seine to le diable, for the purpose of shoul 
 dering his musket at the call of General Hull, would 
 have been astonished to have been branded as a 
 foreigner. And as for the English or Scotch fur trader, 
 whose packs had been pillaged by the British at Macki 
 naw, whose money had flowed freely as his blood would 
 have flowed in defence of the town, and who cursed 
 " Old Hull " as a traitor, or pitied him as a coward no 
 one ever thought of him as a foreigner. In fact we all 
 dwelt together harmoniously, to the best of my recol 
 lection, and knew no more distinction of blood or 
 nationality than they are innocently supposed to know 
 in heaven.
 
 24 SHOEPAC EECOLLECTIOXS. 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 OUK FAMILY. 
 
 Aye, sir : to be honest, as this world goes, 
 Is to be one pick d out of ten thousand. 
 
 HAMLET. 
 
 SUCH then was rny native town, or city, as its inhab 
 itants have jealously called it from time immemorial ; 
 and such was the society in its primitive state. 
 
 My father was an Englishman. Being a younger son, 
 his chances in merry old England seemed slim enough. 
 With what little cash he could command, he had 
 departed from the ancestral halls, in the north of Eng 
 land, near the little town of Keswick, for America. He 
 was a mere youth when he landed at New York ; but 
 fortunately his letters secured the good will of Mr. Jokii 
 Jacob Astor, then an active fur trader, who at once 
 appointed him an agent in the American Fur Company, 
 and without any delay he set out for the little city of 
 Detroit, the head-quarters of his future business opera 
 tions. 
 
 The only relatives of my father, settled in America, 
 were the family of an uncle, who was a professor in the 
 University of Cambridge, Massachusetts. Thither it
 
 * OUKFAMILY. 25 
 
 had been the original intention of Mr. March to pro 
 ceed, especially as the worthy professor had boasted no 
 little of the beauty of his two daughters; and my father, 
 little dreaming of ever wooing among the native daugh 
 ters of the land, thought possibly the time might arrive 
 when a wife would be desirable. Besides, Mr. March 
 supposed he should need the advice of his uncle, with 
 reference to choosing himself an abiding-place in the 
 country to which he had come for the achievement of 
 home and fortune. But the friendly advice and sub 
 stantial offer of Mr. Astor, were the means of changing 
 this plan, as we have seen. 
 
 Mr. March had not been long settled at Detroit 
 before his heart became conscious of the charms of my 
 mother, then a very young girl, the daughter of an offi 
 cer of the American army, stationed with his regiment 
 at our city Major Fanshawe, 3d infantry. Notwith 
 standing her youthfulness, such was the impetuosity 
 with which Mr. March urged his tender suit, that my 
 mother found herself married at seventeen, and my 
 father s uncle, the professor, never wrote to him from 
 that day. 
 
 All his life, hitherto, Mr. March had been an impul 
 sive character. But from the day of his marriage, such 
 was the curb he imposed upon this trait, that a radical 
 change ensued, and from one of the rashest of men, he 
 advanced to be one of the most gentle, patient, and 
 deliberate. This change became of frequent service tc 
 him, not only in his family government for I take it, 
 
 2
 
 26 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 that a man entrusted by God with a family, should be 
 patience and deliberation personified but it was more 
 extensively useful in his dealings with the wild sons of 
 the forest. To any stranger, Mr. March would appear 
 in the mild light of a gentle spirit whom nothing might 
 ruffle. But on many occasions, Pigeon-hawk, the name 
 by which he was known among the Indians, had dis 
 played more of the fierceness of the hawk than of the 
 meekness of the dove, particularly when his anger was 
 aroused by treachery or oppression. In the main, the 
 children of the woods respected my father for his vir 
 tues, and thought him very honest for a white man. 
 
 The several children that clustered upon the parental 
 boughs displayed, even at no late period of their child- 
 history, greater or less evidence of their connection with 
 the paternal trunk, not unmingled, however, with the 
 tokens of my mother s excellence. In early life, she 
 appeared little other than warm affection and easy good 
 humor ; but time and trial proved that there lay dor 
 mant energy itself. 
 
 There were four of us : John, the eldest, had inherited 
 his father s quick boldness of spirit ; my brother G nil- 
 ford his more deliberate fire ; Maud, our only sister, 
 standing in age between John and Guilford, gave signs 
 of patience, tethered with courage, yet both disguised 
 under a self-distrust, often laughable to behold, so super 
 fluous and surprising was it in its manifestations ; as for 
 me, I may in all modesty be allowed to show myself out 
 in the course of this eventful history.
 
 O U R F A M I L Y . 27 
 
 And here I may as well present my apologies to the 
 courteous reader for the absence in these pages of the 
 one thing needful in modern novels. It is beyond my 
 power to produce a fashionable infant phenomenon. 
 Low as it shall be our lot to descend into the pits of 
 misery, we cannot descend far enough to fish one up. 
 It would be rare delectation to happen upon a found 
 ling, or still more abandoned yet beautiful imp, follow 
 him in his career from his origin in some odoriferous 
 back alley in the City of Destruction, through the 
 Slough of Despond, led on by the magic of some Ari 
 adne clew or moral perfection, on through the Augean 
 Stables, the Dungeon of the Giant Despair, the nets and 
 pitfalls of a shocking world, on to the foot of the scaf 
 fold, whence to rescue and reproduce the hero, striding 
 through Fifth Avenue palaces, where he is astonished to 
 find himself perfectly at home becomes leader of the 
 ton, president of a bank for the benefit of obscure pau 
 pers, marries the mayor s daughter, and dies on a bed 
 with yellow satin coverings. No ! I give thee fair 
 warning, we have nothing to do with such fascinating 
 fungi. 
 
 The family tree flourished in a healthy soil. And yet 
 it is pleasant to know that such prodigies have blessed 
 the world whether German myths or genuine Greeks, 
 or of no particular paternity save the city fathers 
 sleeping beneath porches or dry-goods boxes, a little 
 unwashed moral Athens, with a severely-just ostracism 
 and a profound Areopagus, and like that renowned
 
 28 8HOEPAG RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 people, possessing all the virtues, save the unimportant 
 ten virtues of the decalogue. Alas ! again I sigh 
 alas 1 that it was not our good fortune to be thrown so 
 pitifully low, to rise again so transcendentally high. 
 Yet bear with me, O lover of a less dazzling, a more 
 simple nature ! My road winds over an uneven 
 country, such as many have travelled, and even now 
 diverges off 
 
 " To that mysterious realm, where each shall take 
 His chamber in the silent halls."
 
 SUMMONED FROM ON HIGH. 29 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SUMMONED FKOM ON HIGH. 
 
 Beyond is all Abyss, 
 Eternity, whose end no eye can reach. 
 
 MILTOX. 
 
 I KEMEMBEE a little of my father. A tall, not stout, 
 mild-visaged mail, with a grey hair here and there 
 streaking his head. 
 
 One s attention was always attracted to his mouth, 
 where there presided a not uncertain, though not quite 
 apparent expression, not undecided, nor yet with the 
 least strain of reserve, much less of closeness. But it 
 was an exhibition of power under power. If mouth 
 might say what the tongue would not, his mouth said, 
 " this must be curbed, this is a folly." Hast thou ever 
 seen such a mouth ? In spite of what that " expression" 
 might say, I think that thou, my friendly reader, wouldst 
 call it no " folly " at all, but rather a strength ; and a 
 glance at my father s eyes would assure one that the 
 strength was good. 
 
 Yet Mr. March, as well as Mr. March s mouth, 
 thought best to hold a tight rein. 
 
 Why he took so special an interest in me, I never
 
 30 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 could prevail on my mother to disclose. Such, how 
 ever, was the fact. But I was the plainest, and, I rather 
 suspect, the dullest of the family, and no favorite at first 
 with even my excellent mother. And so it may have 
 happened, after all, that I fell to my father for his sym 
 pathy and compassion. This gave me some pride, this 
 apparent partiality over the other children, who I always 
 fancied envying me. He always seated me next him 
 self -at table, and cut up my food very nicely ; and they 
 have all since declared that this early care he took is the 
 reason why I am an inch the tallest of the three 
 brothers. 
 
 I remember that there was a desk is not that desk 
 my own sacred property at this moment ? with very 
 tall legs, I then thought, standing in one corner of the 
 room Mr. March used as his library, but which was our 
 favorite sitting-room. Whenever he came home from 
 his business, and particularly after any long absence, he 
 would go straight to the desk, and draw forth cakes and 
 confections, or sometimes even a more valuable gift. It 
 was always well known who for. At any rate, I knew 
 better where they went than how they ever got there, 
 which to this day remains as perfect a mystery as the 
 means by which the stones were laid at Baalbec. 
 
 Then it was my peculiar destiny never to touch a dish 
 of glass, or other breakable, without the ensuing of a 
 crash ; and furthermore, it never was my good fortune 
 to escape therefrom without an energetic thump of the 
 thimbled finger of my mother, or a sly pinch from my
 
 SUMMONED FKOM ON HIGH. 31 
 
 careful sister Maud. But my father would always say : 
 " Never mind, my son, it s nothing." 
 
 And then would he rub the bruise softly with his deli 
 cate hand, and under his gentle protection and reassur 
 ance I would soon recover the self-respect I had lost 
 that lay on the floor beneath the mass of ruined crockery. 
 
 Only to rise, however, and sin just so again. 
 
 My dear, dear father ! "What though he stood well 
 among his neighbors ? What though he commanded 
 the only uniform militia company our city then boaoted 
 the French Hussars ? What though a vestryman, and 
 the chief pillar of St. Paul s ? What though already 
 nominated, and soon to be unanimously elected, the fede 
 ral representative for the whole Northwest? Did not 
 the messenger from a higher court stand knocking at tho 
 door? 
 
 I was only seven years old. We had just returned 
 from a family visit to a gentleman s farm that lay ten 
 miles or more down the river. 
 
 Those beautiful river banks ! With what quiet plea 
 sure he enjoyed their loveliness. I remember his looks 
 as he pointed them out to us. The red tower windmills, 
 with long arms and dragon teeth. The green and yellow 
 slopes, dotted over with white sheep ; the crimson 
 orchards ; the brown nut trees ; the autumn-damasked 
 drapery of the forest ; the darting squirrel we saw, and 
 BO eagerly longed to catch, and which Mr. March so 
 cruelly shot ! I remember it all, as if a pageant of ye*s- 
 terday ; and a sense of beauty entered my dreamy,
 
 32 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 listless soul, that seems now to have come from an angel. 
 Shortly afterwards came sorrow ; and Beauty and Sor 
 row have ever visited me together, like loving twin 
 sisters. 
 
 Our visit lasted a week. "We set out to return at sun 
 set. It was a beautiful moonlight night. The canoe 
 was loaded down with the good things we brought away. 
 There were bushels of hickory nuts, and a basket of 
 liens eggs, with some great goose eggs that took my eye 
 I had found them, too, hid away somewhere under the 
 barn ; some white wool for Mrs. March to spin and 
 weave into home made woolen sheets, a bag of the 
 reddest apples in the world, and a little box in which I 
 brought home a pair of doves. But the air was laden 
 with miasma. Mr. March, Maud, all of us except Mrs. 
 March, were in a few days successively prostrated with 
 the fever. My mother nursed us all. Nothing seemed 
 to bewilder or confound her. Nothing was too arduous 
 for her to do. She was everywhere at the same moment. 
 When the house grew still at night, she would suffer the 
 neighbors, w T ho were ever ready, to relieve her. But 
 not a voice of pain issued from a room but it reached 
 her ear, and she stood over the bed witli cooling drink 
 or soothing balm. Her very hand was magical on my 
 own heated temples. 
 
 After a while, one after another recovered, save one 
 the one, the all in all to my mother and to me. I remem 
 ber some person taking me silently by the hand one 
 Sabbath morning. Every night on retiring to our room,
 
 SUMMONED FKOM ON HIGH. 33 
 
 my father was accustomed to come in gently after Guil- 
 ford and me, and kneel down on the floor at the bed 
 side. This was likewise his custom on Sunday 
 mornings. But during the last few weeks we had 
 struggled through our prayers the best we could alone, 
 and the burden of our petitions was for him. Our 
 thoughts were full of this subject now, when one came 
 to lead us into his apartment. As soon as we reached 
 the bedside we knelt down and clasped our little hands, 
 ready for him to begin the supplication ; but with a 
 quick sob, the female who had brought us caught me in 
 her arms, turned down the sheet which covered his face, 
 and 
 
 Oh God! was I, was I fatherless? How came it so? 
 The latest we had heard was, that he grew better. 
 
 It could not, should not be ! 
 
 I threw my arms around his neck as well as I could. 
 By this time, Guilford was there too. We kissed him 
 long and convulsively. Oh ! how cruelly cold he was. 
 The cold entered my bosom and congealed the fountain 
 of tears. They carried me awaj as one dumb, and for 
 the first time I began now to know, even thus early, 
 what solitude is. 
 
 But the sense of solitude is not always weakening. I 
 felt strong, too, under the weight of a great, intense 
 grief, and that is next in strength to intense passion. 
 Child! there were no tears for me. To weep would 
 have been sweet. Tears are a sort of company. 
 
 Soon the vacancy of my little chamber grew oppres- 
 
 2*
 
 34 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 sive. The walls seemed never so wide apart the 
 ceiling never so high. Objects became suddenly and 
 largely idealized. There seemed indeed a height it 
 was heaven. There, too, were depths profound depths, 
 down which, I remember I would awake, as if falling, 
 in my half-conscious moments. In fact, there suddenly 
 rose around me a world : I never had known it before 
 never thought of it ; but here it was now, stretching 
 on, and on, and around me, near me and afar off; and 
 I alone ! alone ! alone ! 
 
 I wandered about the house to escape the dreariness 
 of this world, seeking companionship, but found none ; 
 there was nothing to be seen but tears, or, what was 
 worse, the sudden stoppage of tears whenever they saw 
 me coming, while they glanced stealthily at me and 
 whispered to each other, 
 
 " Hush ! there he is, poor child, poor boy, poor little 
 Walter!" 
 
 As if I were walking on some terrible crag, away 
 down below them as if I were the only one of them 
 all to be pitied. 
 
 Was I ? We shall see.
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 35 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 
 
 Thou look st a very statue of surprise, 
 As if a lightning blast had dried thee up, 
 And had not left thee moisture for a tear. 
 
 MARTYR S TIUOLEON. 
 
 MANY neighbors, friends, and even strangers, came to 
 attend the last sad offices. Father Robert was there, 
 and wept like a child. Here was a sight the brave old 
 Indian missionary could not brave. There were many 
 half stifled sobs. I heard their steps as they carried my 
 father along the hall slow, shuffling, hollow, dragging 
 steps, sounding more loudly, or at least more lingeringly 
 distinct, than a firm loud tread. Those dead, dull steps, 
 marching to their own muffled music, the mournful 
 utteririgs of the Hall to the Master, who shall come 
 there no more as of yore bringing joy. How mute, 
 inanimate things do sometimes speak ! 
 
 A sweet, kind little woman I wonder who she may 
 have been ? came to my chamber, desiring me to go 
 with her to the churchyard. I had no such material 
 curiosity. And she stood by my side there, as I watched 
 with my white face at the window. 
 
 The procession formed and moved away.
 
 36 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Father Robert, with his face buried in his handker 
 chief, and Mr. Cradle, our own excellent clergyman of 
 St. Paul s, Catholic and Protestant side by side, led the 
 train. Clumsily mounted and clumsily dressed hussars, 
 with drawn sabres, and a dreary band of music, pre 
 ceded the hearse. It was followed by his own horse, 
 with shabrack and equipments ; a sabre dangled from 
 the pommel, a blue cloak was thrown over the saddle, 
 and boots were in the stirrups, reversed. 
 
 Alas ! that mournful sight the riderless horse. 
 
 Then came a little body of freemasons, and a mecha 
 nics society, with regalia in weeds ; the gentlemen of 
 the government, those of the Indian agency, fur traders, 
 with Ijieir employes, whose bronzed faces were moist 
 ened with tears, for such are the brave men that weep 
 for others French people, and other citizens of the 
 town. Countrymen followed ; even stalwart Indians, 
 in their plumes, loitered at the skirts of the procession, 
 lending a dusky fringe to the dream-like pageant. 
 
 I would have given worlds for the muscular power to 
 turn away from the scene, or my very life for a tear to 
 blot it out from my mind for ever ; yet by some irresisti 
 ble force was I chained to the window, with my gaze 
 fixed down upon them till they had all wound away 
 out of sight. 
 
 For the first time since he died, I now asked to see 
 my mother. My companion, the kind little weeping 
 woman, led me by the hand to the apartment. I cannot, 
 and would not describe the scene. In me she saw I
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 37 
 
 know not what, but she clasped me in her arms, and 
 strained me to her heart, weeping as if it would break ? 
 and murmuring over and over again : 
 
 His child ! His darling Walter ! " 
 
 Oh ! how I now began to love my poor mother ! The 
 doctor came, and I waa borne out. I did not then know, 
 nor till long afterwards, of the extreme danger through 
 which she passed. I lingered near her door till dark. 
 Then Guilford came, and gently urged me with him to 
 our own bedroom. 
 
 We knelt down together. Guilford began : 
 
 " Our Father, who art in heaven !" 
 
 Now the tears burst forth as a torrent. We fell upon 
 each other s necks, or rather I upon Guilford s, for he 
 was always much the more manly, and the first natural 
 child-like grief I knew came welling up from the broken 
 fountains of the great depths. 
 
 " Our Father, who art in heaven !" Gone ! gone ! 
 " Oh ! who," I exclaimed to Guilford, " will now teach 
 me my prayers ? who will ever take poor Walter s part ? 
 who will cut up my meat ? who will love me ?" My 
 brother endeavored to comfort me, but I would not. 
 
 And from that sweet, bitter night, " Our Father, who 
 art in heaven " never rises to my lips, without his 
 image that pale, gentle presence, those calm, loving 
 eyes. Yes, in many a strait, in darkness and evil, in 
 joy and thankfulness, he comes, a messenger from God, 
 an angel friend of Christ. 
 
 Since that night I have never been alone.
 
 38 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THOSE LEFT. 
 
 The adventurous boy that asks his little share, 
 And hies from home with many a gossip s prayer, 
 Turns on the neighboring hill once more to see 
 The dear abode of peace and privacy. 
 
 ROGERS. 
 
 NATURE S "resources were almost exhausted in my 
 poor mother by the fatigues of many days watching, 
 long-strained anxiety and much overwork. The sudden 
 and complete departure of hope would have deprived 
 her of the little remaining strength ; but that terrible 
 loss of blood which followed the shock prostrated her so 
 completely, that her doleful wish to die were well-nigh 
 accomplished. But all hope gone in one direction, 
 leaves the mind to fix itself on new objects with new 
 and better hope. And now to combat despairing Life 
 came desperate Resolution to live for her children; 
 and new thoughts, sudden desires, new energy, even 
 new ambition, began to prevail. 
 
 My mother did not shut herself in her bedroom with 
 Mr. March s picture, and go slipshod for a year and a 
 day, according to the approved custom of those who 
 are married again before you know it. Her grief
 
 THOSE LEFT. 89 
 
 became a thing of life, and a matter of hope beyond the 
 grave. 
 
 But what was the prospect immediately stretching on 
 before us ? 
 
 Mr. March had left his affairs in a poor way. Exten 
 sive as was his business, all his means were employed 
 in schemes which next year he hoped to see produce 
 the desired results : next year, the ignis fatuus of for 
 tune-hunters, the maid of the mist that draws them into 
 the vortex : next year ! the rock on which so many 
 stately ships have split. The mind to calculate, the 
 hand to guide, were gone. Everything was found to be 
 inextricably confused, overcharged, pledged, mortgaged, 
 embarked nothing brought to port, nothing matured 
 to hand and ready for use. The very house in which 
 we dwelt, a large English cottage built by himself, was 
 ours now only by courtesy. True, the gentlemen whom 
 my father had appointed as our guardians informed 
 Mrs. March that much might yet be saved by means of 
 suits at law, but she had inherited a repugnance for the 
 perplexities of business, and had a holy horror of all chan 
 cery proceedings ; in fact, the proposition was rejected 
 as unworthy the memory of Mr. March, who never sued 
 a man in his life. 
 
 " Here, too," said my mother, " in the very neighbor 
 hood where he has been so beloved ! lawsuits ! never ! 
 Maud, my darling, my brave lads, we must work !" 
 
 And so Mi s. March resolved to keep her family 
 together by the sweat of her brow, and to buy back the
 
 40 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 homestead, if so be God would bless her labors. This, 
 indeed, seemed a great undertaking. Kind neighbors 
 offered to take different members of the family to their 
 homes, and rear them up as their own children. 
 
 " Which of you, my dear ones, will go ?" inquired 
 Mrs. March. "Mr. Latrobe will adopt one of you, 
 boys, and Colonel Sedgefield wants one as his private 
 secretary." 
 
 M. Latrobe was Mr. March s most intimate friend in 
 the fur company. Colonel Sedgefield was the superin 
 tendent of Indian affairs. 
 
 But neither Guilford nor myself answered the ques 
 tion ; as for John, he was, according to the dying wish 
 of Mr. March, to be sent as soon as might be to Cam 
 bridge, to be educated under the care of his cousins 
 two accomplished women the daughters, in whose 
 cause the professor had tacitly resented the marriage of 
 his nephew to my mother. Mr. March never knew 
 how destitute his widow was to become on his death. 
 But his expressed wish had always been my mother s 
 law, possible or impossible ; and to college, by hook or 
 by crook, go Master John must. 
 
 " What do you say, Guilford ? you may be rich one 
 of these days," my mother added with a faint smile. 
 
 Guilford hesitated a long time. At length, the delib 
 erate boy arose from his seat near the window of the 
 library wherein we were all gathered for a family 
 council walked over to his mother, who was standing 
 near the blue desk, where she had been engaged with
 
 THOSELEFT. 41 
 
 some papers, and looked up with his fine full face very 
 solemnly he looked into the eyes of motherly love. 
 
 "Are you truly in earnest, mother?" 
 
 "Yes, my son, the welfare of my children is the one 
 great wish of my heart. I can see nothing that prom 
 ises so well for you in a worldly view, Guilford." 
 
 " Then, mother, who would be left to take care of 
 you, and Maud, and little Walter here, after John 
 goes?" He always looked a great way down upon me, 
 although but three years my senior. 
 
 "God, my son," replied Mrs. March, with a little 
 agitation. 
 
 This answer confounded Guilford a moment. Then 
 he gathered strength. 
 
 " Well, if God intended that Mr. Latrobe or Colonel 
 Sedgefield was to bring me up, he would have given 
 me to them himself." 
 
 Saying which, the young ethical philosopher walked 
 back to his seat at the window, with the air of the head 
 of the family, and there entrenched himself. 
 
 Jghn began to grow provoked at this torn-foolery, as 
 he was pleased to style Master Guilford s refusal. 
 
 " Walter," he exclaimed, " come, be a man ; you will 
 have to go." 
 
 But my mother did not seem at all displeased with 
 Guilford ; in fact I thought I detected a look of lurking 
 satisfaction. She now regarded me very fixedly. 
 
 I do. not know what my face replied, but if ever heart 
 thumped violent remonstrance, mine did at that awful
 
 42 8HOEPAO RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 moment. The sense of home, with its thousand associa 
 tions, pervaded me ; that terrific sense of loneliness in 
 the world, which lately had nearly deprived me of rea 
 son, overwhelmed me. I stretched out my arms towards 
 my mother but paused irresolute. 
 
 " Unfeeling, unmanly boy 1" cried John, in a passion. 
 My mother held her hands towards me, and grew sud 
 denly pale. 
 
 MVould you kill her?" continued John, as I stood 
 hesitating. Indeed my heart smote me. 
 
 " To hold on at the apron-strings ! to see your mother 
 work with her own hands for your support!" 
 
 My heart nearly crushed me. I looked towards Guil- 
 ford he was gazing on the street ; towards Maud she 
 shook her head imploringly ; at my mother alarm and 
 unusual agitation were twitching at the corners of her 
 pale mouth. 
 
 " If I must go, dear mother," I said, " I will for your 
 sake ; but 
 
 Again she held out her arms. I understood it now, 
 and leaped into those eager arms with a burst of joyful 
 tears. She held me a moment, then put me on my feet, 
 smiling through her emotion as she said : 
 
 " "With the aid of that young gentleman," looking 
 rather proudly at Guilford, " I think we shall get on 
 very well at home." In vain John disputed the point. 
 John felt uneasy concerning his own course. The noble- 
 hearted fellow threw every possible objection in the 
 way of his being so unceremoniously " billeted on the
 
 THOSELEFT. 43 
 
 family," as lie said. But Mrs. March was a firm little 
 woman, though, I dare say, neither very brilliant, nor, 
 as women go, would she be voted strong-minded. And 
 John, seeing no hope for himself but to accept his fate, 
 had strenuously urged the plans of the two friends of 
 Mr. March to relieve our mother, and place Guilford or 
 me, or both of us, in the way of assisting her. 
 
 He knew her too well to strive any longer now, and 
 it was with a feeling of relief and satisfaction we sat 
 around the little round table in the library on that 
 evening. 
 
 The wood-fire had not burned so cheerily since his 
 death. The library was one of those little snuggeries 
 for which everybody is ready to desert all other rooms 
 in the house. The moonlight broke in leafy patches 
 through the branches of the lilac trees, now in full 
 bloom. The glow of the fire on the hearth lit up smiles 
 on the pictures of my father and M. Latrobe, facing 
 each other on the opposite walls ; that of Mr. March 
 hung over the lounge on one side of the fire-place, and 
 that of M. Latrobe on the other side, overlooking the 
 great armed and cushioned rocking-chair where my 
 father used to sit so habitually, with Maud or me on his 
 lap ; or, if at night, with his books, till the middle 
 watch. 
 
 That wide, open, friendly fire-place, with its lively, 
 crackling mirth, or its sweet twilight embers, always 
 appears to me the meet emblem of a contented, great 
 heart, answering back to your own joy, and lighting up
 
 44 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 your shadows. And sometimes, surrounded by stran 
 gers, the object of dull remark or cold criticism, or igno 
 rant condemnation, how have I pictured to myself a 
 world of warmth like unto the great fire-place at home, 
 where every man should be greeted with, " "Welcome ! 
 welcome, brother !" and a comfortable, snug corner of 
 his own ; and where all answer to each other with the 
 sympathy and cheer of shining faces over the glowing 
 hearth. Look kindly on the stranger, gentle friend, 
 thy looks are either so many sweet sunny beams that 
 betoken the common fellowship of true humanity, or so 
 many icy rays that chill him to the heart that freeze 
 little by little the fountains of love that fill him with 
 distrust of the world and hatred of his species. No 
 man knows for how much of others wickedness and 
 wretchedness he may be held accountable. A look of 
 thine may breed sorrow in thy brother, though a stran 
 ger. A look of thine may do a good deed, may shine 
 from thy face to his face, and be reflected, like a ray of 
 the sun, over half the globe. 
 
 Live, ye gentle scenes of home ! Light up, ye bright 
 fires of the domestic hearth ! Glow, ye pleasant fancies 
 of the wood-fire ! Smile ever, ye dimpled portraits on 
 the walls of childhood ! Come in, ye sweet lilac breezes 
 that rustle through the cozy curtains, the blossoms of 
 youth and the airy old cobwebs of memory are shim 
 mering in your light ! Place may change, friends 
 come and go. hearts grow cold or wear away beneath 
 the drops of care till they crumble and moulder
 
 THOSELEFT. 45 
 
 beneath the clod of the valley, but a pleasant home, 
 where childhood lived and loved, never dies. The 
 memory thereof is a fortune, an indestructible faculty 
 of self-renewing joy. 
 
 What is Heaven itself but the renewal of the fresh 
 hearts and delightful pleasures of childhood s home ? 
 A happy child looks forward to a happy home above. 
 The hireling initiated but too early in guilt and misery, 
 or in misery without guilt, he seldom hopes for better 
 accommodation at the journey s end ; and the shadow 
 of his childhood descends before him to the grave. 
 
 Man is like the adventurer who treads the dangerous 
 mountain rocks and thorny defiles of the isthmus between 
 the two western oceans ; and blessed is he who judge th 
 not the Pacific of Life to come by the Atlantic of Life 
 begun but rather looks back to the Pacific of a happy 
 childhood, and onward to the still more glorious Pacific 
 of Heaven. 
 
 Ye who have little ones playing around your knees, 
 parent or faithful friend of the fatherless, fill their silver 
 cups with peace and joy ; for the true elixir of Life is 
 the memory of a Happy Home.
 
 46 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE MAGROYS. 
 
 There ia a love which, born 
 
 In early days, lives on through silent years. 
 
 FANNY KEMBLE. 
 _^S 
 
 M. LATROBE secured a passage for John March as far 
 as New York with the servants of the fur company, 
 and that young gentleman was soon made ready to start. 
 His wardrobe was small, plain, neat, and prepared by 
 my mother and Maud. The latter added a little pin 
 cushion and needle-book, the handicraft of her own fin 
 gers, and the admiration of all. In the little silk bag 
 attached, John found a world of buttons; and at the 
 bottom, as if the last thing to be used, was a purse con 
 taining his pocket money. John took it out in his 
 chamber before Guilford and me, and there was little 
 besides the curious rare pieces of coin which Maud had 
 a fondness for gathering, and had kept for years. 
 
 " What would you do, boys/ said John. 
 
 " Give them back," said I. 
 
 " Keep them," said Guilford ; " you might possibly 
 need them, and Maud would never forgive you if you 
 did not take them with you."
 
 THEMAGKOYS. 47 
 
 John determined to preserve them as relics. 
 
 "I shall need no pin-money," he said, with a sigh, 
 thinking of his mother and Maud. 
 
 Professor March had died. His death was announced 
 to my father by Virginia, his eldest daughter, between 
 whom and Mr. March a warm correspondence had 
 since been kept up, till the day of his illness. He had 
 often visited the ladies ; for on going to iJTew York on 
 yearly business, he never was so engrossed as to lose 
 sight of the claims of friendship and kindred. He 
 always returned home with so much to tell us: what 
 great men he had seen Lafayette, or the eloquent 
 Mr. Clay, whom he admired to the skies. In fact, he 
 frequently went to Washington for the sole purpose of 
 seeing the world, which he thought less provincial at the 
 political capitol than at the greater metropolis of com 
 merce. How he, a business man, could devote so much 
 time to his family, to his friends, and to the improve 
 ment of his noble nature, I cannot understand, since the 
 spirit of present progress has seized me. 
 
 " He had better have stuck to his business," snarls 
 out Adolphus Fitz-Mammon of Pearl street. 
 
 Perhaps he had. 
 
 At any rate, confess we must, that there were we, his 
 wedded wife, now a poor widow, and his lawful chil 
 dren, now penniless, at the foot of the ladder, about to 
 start away on the ocean of life, and forced from the start 
 to paddle our own canoe. 
 
 I have a tender regret, ! gentlemanly reader not
 
 4:8 8HOEPAC EECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 for our family pride, but for thy sake that the back 
 ward state of those times would not furnish Mrs. March 
 with genteel labor embroidery, wax-work, writing for 
 newspapers or magazines, lecturing on the rights of the 
 softer sex, God bless them. Indeed there seemed to 
 have been no machinery set in motion, by upheavings 
 of the social world, for raising the wind wherewithal to 
 bear up conscious dignity, suffering under a cloud. 
 These days of such blessed short-cuts to fortune and 
 fame are paradisaical, when compared with those long, 
 old-fashioned, rugged roads up the hill. With duo 
 shamefacedness, I confess that Mrs. March, my mother, 
 and the widow of a rather distinguished man, took in 
 washing. Though she rarely bent over the tub herself, 
 yet many a night have I laid snug under her ironing- 
 table, pretending to sleep, so that she might feel free to 
 sigh aloud in the midnight hours, as she wearily and 
 heavily leant on the smoothing-iron. 
 
 It was six months after the great catastrophe before 
 Mrs. March could, earning the family subsistence the 
 while, do anything beyond getting John to Cambridge, 
 with the fee necessary to enter the preparatory school. 
 During the remainder of this year, sufficient money 
 must be scraped together for the first payment due on 
 the cottage which was once our own. The good people 
 of the town called it Lilac Cottage ; it stood on the edge 
 of the city, at the extremity of a little green lawn, 
 shaded on the two sides by elms and locusts. 
 
 Great as was the need of economy, as well as the
 
 THEMAGEOYS. 4U 
 
 labor of each tiny hand, yet no sooner had the blue-bird 
 began to pipe for spring than my mother said we must 
 make ready for school. Accordingly, as soon as the 
 weather settled a little, and the damp earth began to 
 grow dry, we started on a bright, breezy Monday morn 
 ing for our schools Maud one way, and Guilford and 
 I another. The lilac bushes nodded us a morning fare 
 well as we set out. 
 
 I do not remember that the boys,- our schoolfellows, 
 treated us any the worse after our misfortune. Boys 
 are nobler little fellows than they are generally written 
 noisy, mischievous rascals as they are. But Maud, 
 on the other hand, did mention, in a quiet, uncomplaining 
 way, some notable instance of insolence on the part of 
 her school companions. 
 
 " I am not surprised, my dear," said Mrs. March ; 
 " we are very poor, and must not expect to escape the 
 load of obloquy which poverty is liable to carry. Let 
 your manners be simple, and your behavior as prudent 
 as I hope it may be innocent, and you will soon begin 
 to see rise up around you a respect more valuable than 
 that paid to mere wealth." 
 
 We all looked on and listened, with a sort of growing 
 solemnity, till my mother closed this, the longest 
 harangue of her life. 
 
 It must be acknowledged, in extenuation of the con 
 duct of the young girls, whose rudeness had wounded 
 our little self-deprecating bird, they were daughters of 
 some honest people who fancied my mother proud 
 
 3
 
 50 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 because she persevered, even now in the hour of her 
 desolation, the even tenor of her laborious days and 
 nights, without accepting either the proffered assistance 
 of the good and great around her, or the society of the 
 vulgar, who were as far beneath her as ever. 
 
 Our fall in the social scale was not very far. Such 
 was the esteem felt for the character of Mrs. March, 
 likewise for the memory of her husband, that strange as 
 it may appear, we were now almost as respectable as 
 ever. I say very honestly this was strange, for I defy 
 any man to look narrowly into his own heart and say, 
 that he regards the person of his fallen brother, with 
 precisely that amount of respect he entertained before 
 his fortunes were clouded. 
 
 In spite of your honest protestations, the difference is 
 just equal to the cash lost. 
 
 The gap may be filled with pity or interest, or even 
 with admiration, but it is quite another thing. 
 
 It may be a nobler, for the savor of Monsieur Mam 
 mon s presence is gone. 
 
 Yet those times were not blessed, as these are, with so 
 many charming refinements, and necessary extrava 
 gances, in the manner of living. Between the citizens 
 of our little city there was no great disparity of dress, 
 nor of style in anything outward. 
 
 The Governor s household often rode to church in a 
 French cart, all sitting on the clean straw laid on the bot 
 tom, or at most a buffalo robe. Now, had they ridden 
 in a chariot, w r ho so unreasonable as demand them to
 
 THEMAGROTS. 51 
 
 nod their heads so familiarly as they did to John Baptiste 
 with his check-apron family driving by, jerking the 
 reins of that wicked little trotter? No, my simple, yet 
 honest friend ; our smiles of recognition vary with the 
 difference of altitude between our relative seats. It 
 should be that such divine things as smiles should bless 
 the more, the further they descend ; but alack ! alas ! 
 
 But there was one important member of the good old 
 
 society that did not think it worth his while to disguise 
 
 the difference in his favor towards us : no less a worthy 
 
 than Mr. Archibald Magroy, LL.D. Mr. Magroy was 
 
 a rich retired fur-trader. A tall figure, a heavy, shaggy 
 
 forehead, a lumbering gait, a totally disagreeable man- 
 
 ier of address, so pedantic, withal, that you must fain 
 
 idieve the whole world had gone mad, and he had lost 
 
 ill patience with it. 
 
 In the early days of his career, when he was strug 
 gling to obtain what the world owes every man, how 
 ever contemptible the creditor a living he had mar 
 ried a thriving Yankee woman. It w r as the common 
 belief that Mrs. Magroy was born with a duster in her 
 hand and a turban on her head. She certainly was 
 never seen without them. That parlor of hers was irre 
 proachable. Once on each day she opened the back 
 door of the same, new in, flourished her duster, basti 
 nadoed any unlucky little spider that astonished itself 
 at being found there, scampered off the flies, and herself 
 flew out again breathless. But she breathed more 
 freely the rest of the day, and dusted all over the house
 
 52 
 
 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS . 
 
 more leisurely. The front parlor-door was always locked, 
 the curtains always precisely fixed for company that 
 never saw them ; the blinds down, as if the light of 
 Heaven were impure in her sight. In truth, no human 
 being, except the neat matron Magroy, knew what 
 treasures of immaculate furniture that precious parlor 
 contained. Her visitors were always shown into the 
 dining-room at the extremity of the hall. 
 
 Mr. Magroy delighted in the glum solitude of an 
 office in the wing. Over Mr. Magroy s door there 
 figured his name with the Archibald of his fathers pre 
 fixed, and the title of some petty office he held under 
 government turned up at the end of it, like the tail of a 
 mastiff. " Old Growl," as the boys resentfully nicknam 
 ed him, kept constant watch and ward in this kennel of 
 his, ready to bark at mankind as a whole and boyhood 
 in units. For, in the angle between the wing and the 
 main body of the building, there were flourishing a few 
 choice fruit trees, some of whose luxurious branches ex 
 tended over the fence, and therefore in pursuance to well 
 known boy-laws, belonging to the passers by. Against 
 this principle Mr. Magroy protested, and the contested 
 point rendered him a miserable, suspicious, wrathful 
 man for life, according to the boys. For the fruit was 
 too tempting a prize for juvenile forbearance ; it hung 
 over the road, the corner was but a rod further on, and 
 escape always easy. Still the depredator, though then 
 and there escaping, was not beyond the reach of Archi 
 bald Magroy, LL.D. Woe to the boy, woe to his
 
 THEMAGROY8. 53 
 
 school, woe to his teacher, woe to the very parents 
 whose pride was bound tip in him. Old Growl was a 
 constant school visitor, a self appointed trustee for the 
 education of the poor ignorant world s children. Show 
 me a Scot that hath ever taught school, and I will show 
 thee a pedagogue egregious and eternal. And Mr. 
 Magroy was a Scot and had taught school. With his 
 Greek and his Latin, his latitudes and longitudes, Old 
 Growl bestrode the world of classics and sciences, as he 
 domineered over mankind s children. Who that went 
 to school at that memorable time, but remembers the 
 terrible visitor ? And who that ever struck a plum from 
 the bending boughs of his plum trees, that doth not 
 repent in Greek and Latin to this day ? 
 
 Mr. Magroy was a father. 
 
 The best natured, the most careless, idle, truant blade 
 of a boy in the whole city, was Allen Magroy, only 
 child of Old Growl. Allen had been the devoted 
 admirer and sworn cavalier of our Maud, ever since 
 the world began. Old Growl, before the death of Mr. 
 March, seemed not at all loth to see this intimacy. lie 
 even smiled, or rather chuckled a canine approval in 
 his way. But when our catastrophe happened, and the 
 poverty in which we were left became known, Mr. 
 Magroy turned his back upon poor innocent Maud. 
 And now, instead of greeting her as of yore, with a grim 
 friendly nod and a handful of delicious fruit, whenever 
 she passed that way, he shut-to the gate, and strode with
 
 54: SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 his hands behind him through the little orchard into the 
 kennel, his cane tail-like dragging behind. 
 
 Then Allen began to wear a long face, and for the first 
 time in his life looked serious. And poor Maud began to 
 think she must not as much as look on an LL.B. s son, 
 now that she was the daughter of a working woman ; and 
 so treated Allen with quite chilling reserve, and avoided 
 him on all possible occasions. Allen would throw him 
 self in her path between home and school, and on Sunday 
 afternoons as she came back from church. She never 
 so much as referred to Mr. Magroy, but she protested 
 against Allen s desperate behavior. In fact Maud was 
 a great deal prouder than ever she knew of. 
 
 Allen clung to her with Scotch pertinacity. He was 
 now eighteen, a manly looking fellow with dark hair 
 and mahogany colored eyes ; he had a lithe figure, and 
 there was that grand air about him in all his indolence, 
 that we sometimes see with so much pleasure in the 
 strut of a gallant soldier, as if he knew he had a perfect 
 right to it. Yet as we have said, Allen was a careless, 
 unstudious fellow, which was but too perceptible in the 
 devil-may-care manner he carried about with him, except 
 when in the presence of our sweet Maud, lie was 
 bound to her by no slender tie, viz., gratitude, a cable on 
 the heart of a boy, though soon reduced to a cobweb in 
 the grown up man of the world. 
 
 A few years earlier than the date of our story I was 
 a mere child we were all playing in the yard, in the
 
 THE MAGBOY8. 55 
 
 middle of which stood a well of wonderful depth. We 
 certainly thought, at least I did, that it extended to the 
 centre of the earth. Maud had her playthings under 
 an elrn near by, and Allen had teased her all day. At 
 length for the boyish fun of frightening her, he climbed 
 part-way up the side of the well-house. Maud grew 
 frightened in a moment. 
 
 "Allen ! Allen! come down, do!" 
 
 The young gentleman was delighted too much with 
 his easy success. He went laughing at her fears, 
 climbed to the top of the open side, and was walking on 
 the edge of the board, keeping his balance, however, 
 with much effort. 
 
 Maud held her breath, and soon became so pale that 
 Allen fairly shouted. Suddenly he lost his balance, 
 caught at the chain as he fell, and went thumping and 
 tumbling down the walls of the well. lie succeeded in 
 catching the chain before he had fallen many feet, and 
 the roller began to revolve furiously. Guilford and 
 myself were paralyzed by. fright; but Maud darted to 
 the crank, which, too, was flying around at a speed ter 
 rible to behold. She caught it with sufficient force to 
 check the roller, and impede the descent of the boy, who 
 was now clinging to the bucket. In another moment she 
 had seized the crank firmly. Her loud screams soon 
 brought a troop of neighbors to the rescue, and Allen 
 was drawn out. He had fallen a perilous distance ; but 
 though covered with bruises from head to foot, not a 
 bone was broken. The heroine of the catastrophe
 
 56 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 fainted when the excitement was gone, and the fear 
 alone was left. They carried Maud into the house, 
 without her knowing whether Allen was dead or alive. 
 Her wrist was dislocated. 
 
 "What of that?" said she afterwards; "possibly 
 Allen might have been killed." 
 
 Her courage and presence of mind had indeed 
 saved the life of the ever-grateful boy the ever-after 
 true and loving Allen. 
 
 When, therefore, his father commanded him to break 
 with Maud, the reader may fancy his sorrow and dis 
 comfiture. 
 
 "That good-for-nothing little March girl! the little 
 white-headed limmer ! let me never see ye with her 
 more, do you hear that, sir? quoth Mr. Magroy, 
 drowning the cry of gratitude and honor in loud words. 
 
 Allen was shocked, mortified, indignant. He began 
 to reason ; he grew casuistical. The path of disobe 
 dience began to show itself, winding amid his perplex 
 ities. 
 
 Mrs. March rarely bothered that little busy brain of 
 hers on matters beyond the object immediately before 
 her. Yet now, no sooner did she hear of the unbecom 
 ing behavior of her neighbor, and see in the face of 
 Maud how it affected her daughter, than, with a touch 
 of motherly compassion, she drew the child to her 
 bosom, and encouraged her to pour forth the griefs that 
 oppressed her. Previously Maud had kept her own 
 counsel. ]N~ow, my mother and Maud became friends
 
 THEMAGKOY8. 57 
 
 and allies more like two loving sisters than parent and 
 child. 
 
 Ah ! sympathy ! sympathy ! enricher of poverty ! 
 balm of breaking hearts ! 
 
 Draw thy child closer to thee, good mother closer 
 though she sinneth. The more need the more need. 
 
 Our Maud suddenly seemed to unfold into a young 
 woman. Hitherto she had been a mere child. The 
 bud was quickened, and even in a night bloomed into a 
 hundred-leaved rose. 
 
 Her pretensions to beauty were of no inferior order. 
 Fair hair clung around her shoulders in wavy ringlets, 
 beautiful to behold. Her eyes looked out as blue 
 doves from their habitations all peace and love within, 
 all gentleness without. She had not yet reached the 
 perfect stature of a woman, yet it was evident she never 
 would rise beyond the medium height. 
 
 Little lady as she was, she carried a winning spirit 
 and a brave, towards all beside herself a subtle mastery 
 that brought Power into the retiime of her attendant 
 charms. Even her weakness, self-distrust, took the form 
 of Grace. Poor girl, to have a history ! Blessed is 
 the woman that hath none. 
 
 Maud went meekly on her way school and house 
 hold cares dividing her hours. She looked an angelic 
 creature, involved in a cloud an illusion which those 
 long, shining, blonde ringlets, fleecy as a summer cloud, 
 and the color of her eye, changeable as the colors of the 
 cushat s neck, with their moistened fringes, did not 
 serve to dispel. 3*
 
 58 SHOEPAG RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 SHOEPAC AND MOCCASIN. 
 
 MY father s friend, M. Latrobe, was a French gentle 
 man; he rejoiced in it. He was born in Paris. He 
 remembered Napoleon had seen him, spoken with 
 him. Napoleon was his idol, of all hero divinities in 
 clay. Every new day he told a new anecdote concern 
 ing the emperor. 
 
 M. Latrobe was not tall rather short and roundish. 
 His years numbered fifty, and yet spring sat upon his 
 face, laughing at winter on his head. He was a gentle 
 man of the old school, and handed you his snuff-box 
 with a polished air. His eyes were piercing black; his 
 mouth, a sharp, judicious little mouth, yet almost girl- 
 like in expression. 
 
 M. Latrobe was really a great man ; and such a 
 friend ! 
 
 The first yearly payment on Lilac Cottage has fallen 
 due. I need not set forth, one by one, the trials and 
 tribulations that fell to our family lot during that sad 
 year. Nor need I dwell upon the anguish with which 
 now my mother beheld the death s head, Despair, at 
 the family board. I prefer without delay to usher in
 
 8HOEPAC AND MOCCASIN. 59 
 
 M. Latrobe ; lie has just returned from a long tour up the 
 Lakes ; he had visited the far northern stations belong 
 ing to the company. 
 
 My mother was delighted to see him again ; and 
 there they sat in the little library, so often the scene of 
 pleasantries between him and my father, where so many 
 adventures in boats, on snowshoes, and in shoepacs,* 
 had been told, and where Napoleon never had been for 
 gotten. 
 
 "How are all our friends at Mackinac?" asked my 
 mother. 
 
 "Ah! madam," he replied in a softer tone, "you 
 will pardon my friendship in expressing myself before 
 you, but the people up there loved your husband, my 
 friend, my friend ; I think I see him here again." 
 
 M. Latrobe raised his eyes to the picture of my father 
 with such affection, such sadness, depicted on his coun 
 tenance. 
 
 " I am ready to weep for you, madam and for 
 myself, too," he added, handing his snuff-box to my 
 mother, with a tear on the lid. 
 
 The drops trickled down my mother s pale face in 
 silence. Hers had long been the midnight agony ; but 
 her daily effort was to banish the past, for the sake of 
 the cares of the present, and God had helped her on to 
 fortitude. The present occasion was one of those rare 
 
 * The shoepac was a covering for the feet half shoe, half moccasin- 
 worn by the early Frenph on the frontier.
 
 60 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 instances when my mother s grief broke forth from her 
 eyes. 
 
 The two gentle spirits, knit together by love for a 
 common object, buried their faces in their handker 
 chiefs, and wept. 
 
 M. Latrobe was the first to speak. He told her of 
 the interest manifested at Mackinaw in the fortunes of 
 my mother, and of their grief over what w r as felt as a 
 loss common to all. He spoke of a trunk-full of pre 
 sents they had sent her and Maud. The Indians had a 
 superstitious reverence for Maud, on account of her 
 hair. The Dove of Pigeon-Hawk was invested with 
 unearthly attributes, and strings of wampum attested 
 their homage. 
 
 But M. Latrobe had a great favor to ask. 
 
 " I have long desired, madam, to place in your hands 
 the keeping of my little daughter, Ma Belle." 
 
 Mrs. March looked surprised. 
 
 " Do not refuse me at once, wife of my old friend," he 
 said, with the voice of one who most required sympathy, 
 in attempting to bestow it. " Since the death of my 
 excellent wife, I take little satisfaction at home, and am 
 absent so many months at once, I fear Ma Belle will 
 grow up in the streets. 
 
 " My dear M. Latrobe," said my mother, " is there 
 anything I may do for your child ?" 
 
 " Ah ! yes, madam, I desire her to be a lady, and 
 that she must become by no more than living in the 
 same house with you."
 
 8HOEPAC AND MOCCASIN. 61 
 
 M . Latrobe extended his snuff-box. 
 
 " I fear you are too polite," replied Mrs. March with 
 a smile, declining the good gentleman s snuff. 
 
 " And I desire her to be educated," continued he. 
 " Now, madam, if you would only take her en famille^ 
 and send her to school under the kind protection of 
 Miss Maud, you would become my benefactress for my 
 life. 
 
 Who could refuse such an appeal ? 
 
 Then the good man became gay, talked of a laugh 
 able upset from a canoe into the rapids of Sault Ste. 
 Marie, and spoke of a queer, whimsical old officer, sta 
 tioned at Mackinaw, so as to slily draw in an apropos 
 allusion or two to Napoleon. 
 
 I am not sure that Father Robert would have enjoyed 
 M. Latrobe s success that day the lively, agreeable 
 talker. 
 
 As he rose to depart, he drew from his breast pocket 
 a package, and laid it on the desk. 
 
 " Compliment is compliment ; business is business," 
 said M. Latrobe, laconically. " You will find Ma 
 Belle s business in ze paper, Madam March." He pro 
 nounced th with difficulty under certain circumstances. 
 
 Mrs. March was not quite prepared for pecuniary 
 considerations, poor as she was, and much as she needed 
 the wherewithal ; and a tear of gratitude stood in her 
 eye. 
 
 " I thought, monsieur, your daughter was to come en 
 famille f"
 
 62 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " Oui, oui, en famille, en famille, zat is it ; zat will 
 be ze happiness of Ma Belle and myself." 
 
 The polite gentleman had hastily gathered up his hat 
 and gloves, and was bowing himself out, when my 
 mother s remark, and the manner, caused M. Latrobe 
 to stop. He returned hastily towards my mother, and 
 took her gently by the hand. 
 
 " You would not force me to place my child in ze 
 keeping of strangers ?" 
 
 " No, M. Latrobe, your child shall be my child ; I 
 will love her for your sake, and," she added, in a stifled 
 voice, "for the sake of one we both loved. 1 
 
 M. Latrobe began to feel for his snuff box. Suddenly 
 he raised my mother s hand to his lips, and in another 
 moment was gone. 
 
 That afternoon the first payment was made on the 
 cottage. 
 
 Mabel Latrobe ! 
 
 Our pet Mabel, how shall I describe her ? ~No one 
 can imagine, no one will believe how she looked ; no 
 one can see. her as we saw her. A little thing, with 
 clear amber complexion those piercing black eyes of 
 her father s, with a shade of soft Indian melancholy his 
 child-like lips, only what was purely suggestive in the 
 father was growing here in the fullness of nature. Lithe 
 and soft-footed as a mountain kitten, and gentle man 
 nered and soft-hearted as a shepherd s lamb, and yet 
 withal as wild as a fawn, when she first came to us, was 
 Mabel Latrobe.
 
 8HOEPAC AND MOCCASIN. 63 
 
 Her mother was a beautiful half-breed, who had been 
 finely educated at Montreal, where M. Latrobe iftarried 
 her. The half-breeds were not a long-lived race, and 
 Madam Latrobe had died young, leaving her husband 
 this their only child born late in their connubial hap 
 piness. 
 
 The little one had been named Mdbelle my beautiful 
 by her mother, but we Anglicized it into Mabel. 
 
 She seemed very glad to come among us, for her life 
 had been lonely of late. Parting from her French nurse 
 was a trial. M. Latrobe, however, insisted so strongly, 
 out of regard to my mother, whose family was already 
 sufficiently large, that Mabel became reconciled to it, 
 and in order that the attachment should be completely 
 sundered, the good woman was permitted to return to 
 Montreal, whence she had come, and whither her sighs 
 had long been directed. There she was living comfortably 
 on the allowance M. Latrobe settled upon her, when last 
 I saw the fat old dame, and doubtless she is living still 
 those Canadian people live green for ever. 
 
 Mabel became as one of the family in a very few 
 months. She was but eighteen months younger than 
 myself, and we were playmates and called each other 
 brother and sister, though as for that she was child and 
 sister to us all. Guilford she greatly respected, but his 
 deliberate movements accorded not as well with her 
 liveliness as my own character. As I said, we were 
 playmates. I was her champion, the father, or husband, 
 or brother, or even son, of her different dolls ; whose
 
 64 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 several cradles, bedsteads, kitchens, carriages, horses, 
 umbrellas, knives, forks, boats, etc., it was my good for 
 tune to be able to construct. Yet sometimes I grew 
 jealous of Guilford, whom I thought she respected 
 above my important self is not jealousy an instinct ? 
 
 Mabel was mostly consigned to the care of the prudent 
 Maud. However, it was sometimes necessary for my 
 mother to interfere, very much as great nations do be 
 tween small, in order to preserve the general peace of 
 society. On the whole, the two girls did very well 
 together, and Maud certainly discharged the sacred 
 trust entirely to the satisfaction of M. Latrobe. The 
 school to which they went was kept by a Madam Laon, 
 near the Catholic church. Madam Laon was assisted 
 by several nuns, who taught sweet music and pretty 
 embroidery, and were very nice people that is, for 
 nuns ; for I have so deferential a regard for commonly 
 received notions, that I suppose I must qualify my words 
 for people s sakes. Indeed, these nuns, and their mode 
 of life, together, were so very fascinating, that the girls 
 had not studied with Madam Laon more than two years 
 before Maud gave tokens of desire, if not determina 
 tion, to lead a cloistered life. As soon as discovery of 
 this was made to my mother by the honest Madam Laon, 
 the former took the children from the school, and placed 
 them under charge of a New England lady, Mrs. Fan 
 ner, who gave great satisfaction. M. Latrobe never 
 interfered with my mother s action in such cases, for tho 
 regulation of his daughter s education. And in the pro-
 
 SHOEPAC AND MOCCASIN. 65 
 
 sent instance he M*as so frightened at the idea his darling 
 might catch the " contamination," as he called it, that 
 he openly requested my mother to bring up Mabel in 
 the Protestant religion. I fear he was a poor sort of 
 religionist, to lose sight thus of his daughter s eternal 
 interests ; but he had a strange opinion that there was but 
 one God and one Saviour for both churches ; a belief which 
 all sects would doubtless unite so far as to condemn. 
 
 How much the disappointment and sorrow Maud felt 
 on Allen s account may have tended to turn her thoughts 
 towards a convent, we cannot say. She persisted con 
 scientiously, however, in no intercourse with the mourn 
 ful object of her deepest regard. It was working sadly 
 on the boy s appearance. He would throw himself 
 occasionally in her way, and entreat her in such sad, 
 tender terms to hear him, and not mind his lather, whom 
 he tried to pretend she had mistaken, that she must 
 needs often drop her veil quickly to conceal her tears, 
 and hurry on incontinent of his grief. 
 
 The poor lad was losing much of his buoyancy, though 
 not becoming any more careful than ever in his beha 
 vior, which was only too frank and devil-may-care. 
 
 When Mand was about seventeen years of age, an 
 incident happened which occasioned no little merriment 
 in the family ever after, though the girl herself never 
 joined in it. Among the Indian friends of my father 
 was a fine old Potawatomie chief Italisse who always 
 brought his family to our house at the times of the an 
 nual Indian payments. Well, it seems that his son had
 
 &6 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 conceived a great liking for Maud, and after the death 
 of my father began to manifest his passion. No one 
 thought anything of it, however, until now. He came 
 to the house every day after dinner, and after school in 
 the evening, and would follow Maud around like any 
 faithful spaniel ; but he had not the courage to say a 
 word. 
 
 One day the taciturn young lover brought his mistress 
 a string of wampum, which she accepted innocently 
 enough. This seemed to afford him peculiar satisfaction. 
 
 On the next day he gave her a little box of Indian paints, 
 and on her accepting it, manifested the same significant 
 joy. On the third day, he produced a pair of scarlet 
 leggings, beautifully wrought. Maud hesitated, and 
 consulted Mrs. March on the point of taking these, but 
 the latter only smiled at the grave Italisse s earnest de 
 meanor, and told her not to give him offence ; so Maud 
 accepted the leggings. No sooner had she expressed 
 her thanks, which she did in the Indian tongue, and as 
 it happened witli unusual warmth, by way of atonement 
 for her previous hesitation, than the young chief leaped 
 into the air with joy, bounded away out of the garden, 
 and down the avenue, striking his hand on his mouth 
 and yelling as he went, in the peculiar manner of his 
 tribe. 
 
 On the following morning, who should appear but the 
 old chief and his squaw, in company with the young 
 lover, now radiant with joy and certainty. The chief 
 followed my mother into the library, and seated himself,
 
 SHOEPAC AND MOCCASIN. 67 
 
 as in grand pow-wow. His wife with becoming modesty 
 of demeanor dropt on a chair near the door, and the son, 
 still more respectfully, stood entirely outside the room 
 in the hall. Old Italisse was allowed to light his pipe 
 a primitive tomahawk pipe. lie took an initiatory puff 
 or two, and then handed it to my mother, who gravely 
 applied it to her mouth a moment, and passed it with 
 becoming gravity and ceremonious inaction to the 
 squaw, who was fully equal to the emergency. 
 
 The council was thus fully inaugurated. 
 
 The chief opened the confab, standing not ungracefully 
 opposite my mother, and facing both her and the rest of 
 his auditory. He said : 
 
 " He had known Pigeon Hawk many moons. The 
 leaves had fallen on his grave three times, yet he remem 
 bered him as well as if the picture he saw on the wall 
 were painted on his heart. The Dove of the Pigeon 
 Hawk was dear for her father s sake. He would give 
 her, and the children she might have by his son, all his 
 land, his boats, his blankets, his mococks, spears, and 
 tomahawks." 
 
 My mother now began to grow alarmed, she saw the 
 whole thing in its most serious and embarrassing aspect. 
 It seems that the three presents had been respectively a 
 declaration of love, a request for love in return, and 
 finally an offer of marriage, and all having been accep 
 ted, especially the last, under due consultation, Italisse 
 imagined his fate decided and his happiness begun. It 
 was with difficulty that Mrs. March could make the old
 
 68 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 chieftain comprehend the mistake. White Pigeon he 
 knew to have been versed in all the customs of his tribe ; 
 Maud and my mother both talked Potawatomie, and 
 blind to the light of all elucidation, he grunted " ugh ! 
 ugh !" and finally stalked off with his family, in high 
 dudgeon. He never visited our house again. 
 
 My grieved and half terrified mother sent the presents 
 to M. Latrobe, who returned them to young Italisse, 
 and endeavored to soothe the disappointed lover and 
 mollify the old chieftain, with what success I am unable 
 to say. The circumstance occurred so long ago that no 
 one in the family remembers more than I have narrated, 
 and possibly it may be that the three presents were not 
 all precisely what I have represented, yet the substance 
 and manner of the courtship are true, " as set forth in 
 the brief."
 
 JOHN MARCH WHITES HOME. 69 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 JOHN MARCH WRITES HOME. 
 
 Read over this ; 
 
 And after, this, and then to breakfast, with 
 What appetite you have. 
 
 H8NRY VIII. 
 
 BY the magical influence of an author s wand, we 
 must turn the reader back again in this history, to about 
 two months after the departure of John March for 
 Cambridge. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE, June 30th, 182- - 
 
 " MY DEAR MOTHER : 
 
 " I arrived here this morning, and have retired early to the room 
 Aunt Virginia has kindly fitted up for me, to write to you. Dear mother, 
 it was too bad to leave you all ; I might have been of considerable use 
 to you, had you let me remain, but here am I now playing gentleman 
 while you are working with your hands. I hope the time may come 
 when I can requite it all by other means than mere words. 
 
 " We were three weeks reaching New York. The roads are bad 
 between Buffalo and Albany, and the stage travelled slowly. The Far 
 Company gentlemen were very kind all the way. * At Albany we took 
 one of the new fashioned boats of which we have heard so much at 
 Detroit, called steamboats. They are very swift, making six miles an 
 hour against the wind. Whether they will ever dare to try them on the 
 lakes I don t know, but they begin to talk of it. Think of that ! But I 
 would not like to cross Lake Erie in one of them, for fear of a storm. 
 
 * A slight anachronism.
 
 70 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 "When I got to New York all I could do was to exclaim New York ! 
 New York ! such great, three story buildings, such a great post-office, such 
 banks, and so many people hurrying along. The shipping reminds me of 
 a forest of pine trees ; yes, a perfect forest of them. 
 
 " Aunt Virginia was very glad to see me, I think. I am glad you have 
 sent her money enough for my board, schooling and everything for the 
 year, as she is very poor. As you have not heard anything about her 
 except what she used to write herself, I will tell you what Aunt Carrie 
 says. She says That V was a great belle, and was quite celebrated at 
 Washington, Philadelphia, New York, even way down to New Orleans, and 
 that she had many offers which I can readily believe, as she is so good 
 and lady-like in her manners, and so beautiful, too, even now in her 40th 
 year. I will tell you and Maud just how she looks. Tall and straight, 
 fine neck, and person, large black eyes, slightly aquiline nose, black ring 
 lets, and such a musical ringing voice I never heard. But she would 
 accept nobody, rich men, learned professors, statesmen, nobody, so 
 Aunt C. says. And what do you think is the reason ? Why, Aunt Carrie 
 is blind, and has three little fatherless children, and Aunt V. has devoted 
 herself to them all for life. Don t that sound like a romance ? It s almost 
 like you, mother. Well, Aunt C s. husband left little or nothing, so Aunt V. 
 who was unmarried when her father died, and left her every thing, turned 
 it all into enough money to purchase this little place of a house and six 
 acres only, and here they live by raising vegetables which they send to 
 Boston market to sell. Aunt V. did not know any thing about it, but she 
 got books, and read everything on such subjects, and now does very well 
 indeed. 
 
 "She teaches two of the children, the little girls, herself, and sends the 
 boy to school. She says I must commence right off to go to school and 
 prepare for college by next year. My candle is most burnt down, so 
 good night love to Gilly and Walter kiss Maud. 
 
 " Thine, 
 
 "JOHN MARCH." 
 
 This letter was "brought by the postman, who is a little 
 Frenchman, mounted on a strong but rough Canadian
 
 JOHN M A K C H WRITES HOME. 71 
 
 pony, with burs in his mane, tail, and all over. lie 
 goes round with a long tin horn, which he blows in front 
 of every house where there is a letter to be delivered, 
 till they come out. Then he takes his letter out of his 
 saddle-bag and gets twenty -five cents, or more, if it be a 
 double letter. 
 
 It was a great shame when the town got so great as to 
 abolish good Ant.oine, and establish a post-office. In the 
 first place he w r as thrown out of employment, as well as his 
 horse. In the next place, instead of having your letters 
 as the newspapers are now-a-days brought to your 
 door, you must go after them. And in the last place, 
 and worst of all, if you are a poor old man, or any 
 kind of a poor man, or poor woman, or servant which 
 you cannot help and which God made you the upstart 
 clerks are sure to insult you. And ten to one they don t 
 turn you off without looking over the bundle of letters 
 to see if you have got one. The first time I arrived at 
 Washington, I found a letter after a week s daily inquir 
 ing, which must have arrived the day after I did. I 
 remember it because it was from Mabel herself. Now 
 little Antoine knew you had a letter before you knew 
 it yourself, and great was his hilarity on giving it to 
 you. 
 
 " He ! my friend !" he would call out, " what you 
 will give for one lettar, one fine fat lettar? from 
 Philadelphia. Ah ! you no care eh ! By gar I will 
 keep him myself," and he would pretend to rein off his 
 steed. Then he would turn back and say sharply,
 
 72 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " Quick ! non, allons ! I have not time for de trifle," and 
 you would pay the postage and read your letter. 
 
 I am such a stickler for primitive times, that, though I 
 may be mistaken, I think the letters of those days were 
 worth the postage you paid. The topics of a letter were 
 infinitely various, from the last murder to the last mar 
 riage, and there was nothing mercena^ about it. 
 Theology, politics, and all the interesting affairs of the 
 world, were touched upon at greater length. Now, the 
 newspapers pretend to do all that, but not half so well. 
 You never see a letter now-a-days but you fear to open 
 it, lest it should turn out a notice of assessment due on 
 paltry stock, or a protest, or note due, or pew tax. 
 There was little of that sort of thing then. 
 
 SECOND LETTEK. 
 
 " July 1st (2 years later). 
 " MY DEAR MOTHER, 
 
 " I have received your affectionate epistle with great satisfaction. It 
 rejoices my nerves the illiterate would say heart to hear you are all 
 well. It would be quite to my taste to extend to Miss Mabel Latrobe an 
 elder brother s greeting. Please convey the message to her, with a 
 labial accompaniment from me. 
 
 " That vulgar affair of Johnson s was execrably shocking. To think 
 of his suing you at law ! Would that I had my ten digits in his hair and 
 
 eyes. Of course Judge McD decided in your favor, and no wonder 
 
 the people carried Guilford home on their shoulders when the decision 
 was announced. I submitted the case to our law lecturer, and knew 
 how the case would terminate long beforehand ; only I was afraid it 
 might not, or that you might consider me vain and presumptuous. But 
 the more I learn, the less I think I know : like Newton, I only seem to 
 myself to be on the shore of the great Ocean of Knowledge.
 
 JOHN MARCH WRITES HOME. 73 
 
 "Think of Aunt V taking up German; yet she actually has 
 
 partly for the pleasure of reading Goethe, and partly in order to teach 
 the children. As for me, I doiv t think much of modern languages ; givo 
 me the language of immortal Homer, or that of the Bard of Mantua 
 which I hope to know something of next year. 
 
 " I have passed a good examination 25th in my class. Hurrah ! one 
 year of college through with. How the boys will stare at me when I go 
 home in three years from now with my diploma. I will shake it in the 
 face of old Magroy himself; the old dog! does he frighten all the little 
 cowardly boys yet ! I wish I could get hold of him. And don t he 
 speak to Maud yet ? Who is he, to put on such airs ? the old Scotch 
 herdsman ! I talf believe his father tends his flocks now on the Gram 
 pian hills. I hope you will send me all the money you can. I am run 
 ning in debt here and in Boston. With much love to all the children, F 
 
 remain, 
 
 " Thine, 
 
 "JOHN MARCH." 
 
 My mother read this letter aloud with a troubled 
 visage. The tone of it was ill suited to our circum 
 stances, to John s prospects in life, to good taste, to good 
 manners, or to Christian charity. The pedantry, my 
 mother told me afterwards, she could overlook. All 
 college youths, she said, seemed to regard the world 
 outside their narrow circle as woefully ignorant. But 
 the evidence it afforded of an uncurbed spirit, little in 
 keeping with his early religious feelings, and expensive 
 habits, as little in keeping with his means, made a 
 deeply unfavorable impression on her. She said nothing, 
 however, but laid down the letter, and silently went 
 about her household duties. Guilford took it up, and 
 mounting a chair, read the letter aloud in an affected 
 high tone. 
 
 4
 
 74 BHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " Children!" said he, coming to the end ; " who does 
 he call children, I d like to know ?" 
 
 " Don t Guilford," said Maud, in evident pain, for 
 John was very dear to her, as well as Allen s great 
 friend. 
 
 " I cannot help it," said Guilford, unusually excited. 
 "John is a fool." 
 
 " A fool," repeated Maud in astonishment. " Why, 
 Gilly, don t you remember what the Bible says, He 
 
 that calleth his brother a fool besides, John hasn t 
 
 said anything against us." 
 
 " But it s the way he writes," said Guilford, recover 
 ing himself. " lie talks as though we were all heathens, 
 and he the King of the Tongo Islands, at least. He for 
 gets that here we are all working for him to be there 
 mother almost killing herself, and everybody so kind to 
 her, and to all of us." 
 
 " "Well, well ! Gilly," said Maud, soothingly, " per 
 haps he ll come home and give you your turn next." 
 
 " I won t take it," said the boy, stepping down from 
 the chair. 
 
 " It is not his fault," continued Maud gently. " You 
 know father wished it." 
 
 "Yes," murmured Guilford, "I know that I forgot 
 that ; but he mustn t, no, he must not, write so. I ll tell 
 him myself;" so saying, he thrust his hands into his 
 pockets, and went into the yard to see what might 
 require his attention in that quarter.
 
 GHOSTSTOHIES. 75 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 GHOST STOKIES. 
 
 But soft ! behold ! lo, where it comes again ! 
 I ll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion ! 
 
 HAMLET. 
 
 GUILFOKD MAKCH and his brother Walter, were as 
 man and boy the first few years of their half-orphanage. 
 The distinguished young head of the family was skillful 
 and strong in hewing wood and drawing water, while 
 the young male branch trudged along in the subordi 
 nate sphere of chore-doer general in a light way. 
 
 And it is high time the dainty reader should know 
 that the mother of the two young gentlemen changed 
 her occupation on coming into the second year of 
 widowhood, and for a while we may now contemplate 
 her in the employ of sundry tailors and shoemakers. 
 For the former she stitched on shirts, underclothing and 
 pantaloons ; and for the latter she bound shoes herself 
 employing, to aid in these useful purposes, a small num 
 ber of respectable young females, of whose history we 
 knew nothing, beyond their fingers ends. 
 
 Not the least dignified among the small pursuits of 
 Walter March, was to fetch and carry bundles to and
 
 V6 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 from the shops of the above-mentioned tailors and shoe 
 makers ; and as seamstresses and shoe-binders never 
 since the world began were known to finish their work 
 before night, it fell out that my journey ings to the shops 
 of our patrons commonly took place at night. 
 
 Now, by chance, there was on the street along which 
 I travelled, a vacant house a dreary, clapboard-rat 
 tling, shutter-flapping, haunted house, which nightly 
 gave forth sounds, not unmusical, but unearthly. Oppo 
 site the corner of this building there stood a white post, 
 marking a boundary of the lots, and rejoicing near the 
 top in the two letters, O. Q., the initials of the owner 
 of the property. It is needless to hint to the imagina 
 tive reader, that those black letters shone forth from the 
 white post like two spectral eyes dim, hollow, far. 
 
 The supernatural sounds issuing from the haunted 
 house, together with the appearance of the white figure 
 demon-eyed sometimes, in fact frequently, con 
 strained Walter March to quicken his footsteps as he 
 approached the fearful neighborhood, or to take the 
 middle or opposite side of the street -to whistle with 
 apparent unconcern to start with affright at the least 
 unusual object, man or beast, suddenly coming in sight, 
 and in short, to clear the infernal region at a goodly 
 run. 
 
 It is equally needless to go into less important parti 
 culars, such as the tenor of Walter March s dreams 
 the nightmares that were bestrode by a familiar post- 
 goblin, whose ears were posts, whose legs and tail were
 
 GHOSTSTORIE8. 77 
 
 posts, whose head was full of O s and Q s, whose snort 
 was like the earthquake of falling houses ; of a vampire 
 that sucked the dream-blood of Walter March, planted 
 in the victim s breast, like a post driven through him, 
 and holding on to that young gentleman s eye-brows 
 by his vampiue eyes, O. Q. Further particulars were 
 superfluous. 
 
 For many and many a month AY alter March was an 
 unhappy little haunted lad, ridiculed by the head of the 
 family, and laughed at by everybody. The serving- 
 woman, Bowes, was the only friend who condoled with 
 me in my misfortunes, the only person who had faith 
 in the delusion in short, the only being who believed 
 in ghosts. On one or two occasions the good soul 
 accompanied me through the dismal region, and helped 
 the matter no little by scampering off at the first sound. 
 My manly brother, Master Guilford, condescended so 
 far to notice my fears as to propose a visit to the 
 haunted quarter by day, and a thorough exploration of 
 the premises. "We accordingly climbed in at a window, 
 and perambulated over the rooms, and spied into the 
 closets and corners, from base to garret of the mansion, 
 without finding any satisfactory clue to the mystery, or 
 key to the supernatural music. I began to believe 
 myself the victim of mere groundless fear, when, as we 
 were about departing Guilford had already descended 
 to the ground from the window a sweet, unearthly, 
 moaning sound echoed through the deserted apartments,
 
 78 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 and lent wings to the speed with which I bounded on 
 after my brother. 
 
 "What is the matter?" he asked, astonished at th< 
 sudden quickness of my movements. 
 
 " Did you not hear it?" I asked, breathlessly. 
 
 "Hear what?" 
 
 " That noise ! those sounds ! that piteous complaint 
 in music !" 
 
 " My dear brother, I fear you are losing your senses ; 
 you. will soon be demented. I will go up again and 
 listen, just to convince you." 
 
 He climbed to the window, and sat on the sill, listen 
 ing attentively. Of course he heard nothing, or, at 
 least nothing unusual, and soon jumped down again. 
 He walked away from the place in silence ; but there 
 was an expression, half-sneering and half-pitying, on his 
 countenance, which cut me to the quick. 
 
 I now vowed to myself that I would solve the diffi 
 culty in the most direct manner. I would go to the 
 spot by night, alone, for nobody should laugh at me 
 more. How whist was I all that day ! how preoccupied 
 with anticipated conflicts with goblins, witches, dwarfs, 
 dragons what not ! 
 
 At the accustomed hour of my errands to the shop at 
 night, a little before nine, I proceeded resolutely to the 
 enchanted ground. I saw the white post. 
 
 "Tis nothing but a white post," I said to myself, 
 cheerily.
 
 GHOSTSTOKIE8. 79 
 
 I saw the two eyes. 
 
 " They are nothing but two letters, O. Q.," and I said 
 O. Q. aloud ; I even heard an echo O. Q. ! 
 
 " That s but an echo," said I, falteringly. 
 
 I had gained nearly the front of the house. The 
 wind came and shook the building with a noise that 
 before would hare frightened me. 
 
 " Ha, ha !" I laughed, " that s nothing but the wind !" 
 
 The next moment I heard another sort of sound the 
 noise of a chain ! I paused listened eagerly, distrust 
 fully, unbelievingly. 
 
 There ! I hear it again. Yes, it is distinct, the 
 clank ! clank ! clank ! of a chain. My teeth began to 
 chatter my knees to tremble. I was not prepared for 
 this. My legs refused to do their office. The noise 
 ceased, but I turned away with a faint, sickening sensa 
 tion, with difficulty reached home, and tottered up to 
 bed. 
 
 " What is the matter with Walter ?" was asked seve 
 ral times next day, both at home and at school. I was 
 pale and dumb. My mother managed to draw out my 
 secret. She was indignant at Bowes for encouraging 
 ghost-notions in me, and took Guilford to task for his 
 ridicule and want of sympathy. 
 
 Blessed mother ! 
 
 I had more faith in her than in Bowes and all the 
 world, upper and lower, put together. 
 
 " My son," said she, " there is no such thing as 
 ghosts."
 
 80 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 I was foolish enough to believe her. What would 
 the spirit-rappers say to that ? Bowes ! Bowes ! time 
 has proved you right, and my matter-of-fact mother 
 wrong. How glad Bowes must be to have her ghost- 
 stories confirmed lit up with science and philosophy ! 
 proved mathematically ! judicially ! politically ! by 
 scholars, judges, statesmen ! 
 
 I now resolved to encounter the monster, since there 
 was no monster, or if one, as my mother said with one 
 of her humorous smiles, " he must be fettered, and can 
 do you no harm." The night was cloudy moonlight 
 "Such as spectres love," whispered Fear; "So much 
 the better," whispered Courage. 
 
 The white post appeared and disappeared almost 
 momentarily. I canre to within a rood and listened : 
 no sound whatever. I moved forward a step or two, 
 and heard the dismal clank. My heart began at once 
 to throb. The moon, too, conspired against me. She 
 flared out of a cloud with sudden brilliancy, and in her 
 light the post gleamed whitely, and the two eyes 
 impossible to mistake two eyes glared upon me. I 
 remembered, though indistinctly, my mother s words. 
 No ghosts, no ghosts, I whispered to myself. But as I 
 advanced, the chain was again heard, with a quick, 
 loud rattle, over the boards which composed the side 
 walk, and the post became converted into a skeleton 
 figure, which appeared to retreat before me with a grin 
 of vast satisfaction at the sport this adventure seemed 
 to afford him, but terrible to behold on my part. My
 
 GHOST STORIES. 81 
 
 courage sank ; my knees felt as if doubling beneath the 
 weight they bore ; my teeth I would not let them 
 chatter, but with a last desperate flash cf resolution, I 
 leaped forward to grapple with the enemy. 
 
 "It is, it must be, a chimera!" I cried, with tears in 
 my eyes. 
 
 Reader, the moral courage inspired by the last spark 
 of faith, is often the fire of the Body Guard that which 
 decides the battle and gains the victory. 
 
 The insignificance of the cause of my alarm, com 
 pared with the magnitude of the alarm itself, may excite 
 a smile. 
 
 My hobgoblin turned out to be a setter dog belonging 
 in the neighborhood. Insecurely fastened, he had 
 escaped, dragging his chain along with him. The 
 haunted dwelling was one of his places of resort ; for 
 persecuted dogs, in common with lonely lovers, ever 
 seem to seek solitary places, where they may pour out 
 their complaints to the moon ; besides, dog-rendezvous 
 are notoriously ghost-haunted. My terror had trans 
 figured innocent Tray into a manacled skeleton. 
 
 That was the occasion, sir, on which I won my spurs. 
 I became Mabel s true Knight of Romance, and my 
 courage was respected alike by Guilford and Bowes, 
 and by all the Shoepacs and Arabs of the city. 
 
 Yet I stood in awe of Stebbins. Stebbins kept a 
 shop a merchant tailor s shop. It was to return bun 
 dles to Stebbins that I was forced to pass by the haunted 
 house. I entertained great fear, or at least extraordi- 
 
 4*
 
 82 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 nary respect for Mr. Stebbins, perhaps more than for 
 Mr. Magroy, with better liking. He patronized my 
 mother; and all my mother s patrons were angels, or 
 saints, or good genii with golden wands. Stebbins paid 
 promptly ; but I stood in great awe of him, because he 
 insisted, with the grandeur becoming a patron, that the 
 " work " should be promptly done ; and oh ! how sharply 
 he did inspect the aforesaid " work." I remember how 
 I trembled, and how relieved I felt afterwards, as I 
 shrank out of his presence, gained the open street, and 
 capered along homewards. 
 
 Stebbins was a tyrant, but he didn t mean to be. 
 His position as patron of poor women, frightened girls, 
 and trembling boys, made him a tyrant in spite of him 
 self. His frown was awful. Why need good men, who 
 give poor people work to do, frown ? God loveth a 
 cheerful giver of work to the poor. 
 
 Stebbins, then, was a giant a good giant but 
 nevertheless a giant ; and I have always associated him 
 with the haunted house and the terrible-eyed spectre. 
 Poor Stebbins ! when I grew up to be a man, I found 
 him in reality a little dapper-whiskered fellow, not the 
 ninth part of a giant. In fact, he turned out to be the 
 little-dog reality, to the giant apparition of my fears. 
 
 Far be it from me, friendly reader, to disparage an 
 old patron. I think well of him, and would have your 
 honor think well, not only of him, but of every acquaint 
 ance of mine who shall be introduced to your honor. 
 
 Mr. , no, Colonel, Stebbins was indeed an impor-
 
 GHOST STORIES. 83 
 
 tant personage in our city. He drilled the Shoepacs 
 long and well. Afterwards lie was promoted to the 
 Colonelcy of the 1st Regt., 1st Brig., 1st Dist. Mich. 
 Militia, and rode a great cream-colored horse that 
 jumped wide ditches, kicked his heels in the air, and 
 ran away on field-days, occasionally. Such was the 
 Colonel s popularity that he became Justice of the 
 Peace. This dignity ahroad, and a sharp wife at home, 
 promoted Stebbins to an idler a gentleman-loafer, too 
 proud to work. He began to frequent the tavern, and 
 lounged on the corners of streets. 
 
 Now Stebbins has no work to give the poor. 
 
 Guilford March was tormented by delusions of 
 another sort. 
 
 Owing to his steadiness of character and deliberation 
 of manner, my brother was patronized by lads older, 
 and necessarily wiser, than he. 
 
 " Do you chop wood, Guilford ? asked one of his 
 young gentlemen acquaintances. 
 
 " Of course I do." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " Why my mother works for a living, and I need not 
 be ashamed of it." 
 
 " Oh, she s a woman !" replied the rising Solomon. 
 
 "Is not your mother a woman too?" demanded 
 Guilford. 
 
 "Yes, and she works" the lady kept a genteel 
 boarding house " but my father was a gentleman, and I 
 play gentleman too,"
 
 84 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " According to my idea, old fellow," said Guilford 
 familiarly, " in this country the gentleman is the man 
 who works works for himself, his family and others. 
 It was so in ancient times. The real gentlemen of 
 Greece and Eome were those who by their own labors 
 laid the foundation of states. So in the days of chivalry. 
 The great knights worked their way up as pages, 
 squires ; could cook a dinner, chop u tree, turn a horse 
 shoe, mend a saddle, knew what hunger was, and with 
 their own hands and strength achieved greatness." 
 
 " Why, Guilford, you re a book !" 
 
 " ~No I am a boy," said Guilford, after the fifth vain 
 blow upon a knotty piece of wood which he was essay 
 ing to split. The sixth blow was successful. 
 
 " Yes, old fellow," continued the lad, as he leant upon 
 his axe and wiped his brow. " I like playing gentle 
 man, its pleasant to stroll and hunt ducks and pigeons ; 
 but there s little satisfaction in thinking that it all comes 
 to nothing in the end. I d like a career." 
 
 Accordingly Guilford tried a career. It was three 
 years after our father died. He had been a fond frequen 
 ter of the docks, and fallen in love with ships and sailors. 
 My brother Guilford was not immaculate not infallible, 
 like most young heroes of romance, Guilford ran away, 
 hid himself on board a brig bound for the upper coun 
 try, and after the vessel had cleared the straits he showed 
 himself to the captain, who pleased with the lad s spirit 
 and engaging frankness and judgment, readily undertook 
 to make a tar of him,
 
 GHOST STORIES. 85 
 
 Nobody at home knew what had become of Guilford 
 March during several weeks. Then he wrote to his 
 mother, who never scolded, but replied to his letter in 
 endearing terms, entered with him into the spirit of his 
 undertaking, told him. to visit home on next passing 
 Detroit, and promised the usual care of his wardrobe, a 
 kit of which should be ready, nicely washed, mended, 
 and done up, with a little Bible to read. 
 
 Guilford called, in a tarpaulin hat with an unfathoma 
 ble length of black ribbon which the mischievous 
 Mabel cut off unknown to Jack Tar white pants with 
 a belt, blue shirt with the collar on the shoulders, and a 
 
 small quid of tobacco which seemed to m&ke him 
 
 u 
 sick. 
 
 Guilford took but one more trip. His wages were 
 next to nothing, he dreamed of his pale mother. The 
 coarseness of his associates disgusted him. 
 
 His return among his old associates and to the little 
 duties about the yard, renewed* the irksomeness of a 
 vacuous life. 
 
 School did not seem to occupy his mind. Guilford 
 had no very great taste for school books. He learned 
 easily and forgot quickly. His pleasure-grounds lay in 
 histories, and books, where facts of real life, and solid 
 information were spread around him. Yet even these 
 did not fill the void within, or occupy the desert 
 before him. 
 
 One day my brother made his appearance before us 
 with his clothes tied up in an Indian shawl. With
 
 86 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 straight forwardness, lie announced to his mother that 
 he was going to seek his fortune. 
 
 " What do you propose to do first, my son ?" she 
 asked with a smile of good humor peculiar to her. 
 
 " Be a farmer, mother." 
 
 Where will you go ?" 
 
 " Mr. Jumps will take me, I will work my way up 
 till I become the owner of a farm, and then you shall 
 all come and dwell with me." 
 
 " Why should you go away from home ?" 
 
 " This for ever doing servant s work is beneath me, 
 and offers nothing for the future." 
 
 " It is not beneath me," mildly remonstrated Mrs. 
 March. 
 
 Guilford hesitated ; then with a blush he said, " You 
 are not a March, mother, that blood you know comes to 
 me through father. 
 
 "How do you do, Lord Guilford?" curtsied Mabel. 
 
 But Lord Guilford was not easily abashed ; he held 
 on bravely and sturdily to his project declared that 
 Cincinnatus and Washington were farmers ; that his 
 mother could never give both him and John a profes 
 sion ; as for learning any trade, or turning " counter- 
 jumper," he never would; farming was the only work 
 to content him, and " 
 
 " Yery well, my son, you shall go," said Mrs. March, 
 and there was a peculiar expression, not entirely free 
 from pain or displeasure on her face, as she said it. She 
 put on her shawl and bonnet and said
 
 GIIOSTSTORIES. 87 
 
 " Come, Guilford, let s go." 
 
 My brother turned pale. Mabel ran out of the room. 
 Maud kissed him, with a pinch. Our old servant, 
 Bowes, came in, wiping her hands, and told him she d 
 never forgive him* but she stuffed a plate of dough-nuts 
 into his bundle. As for the chicken-hearted writer of 
 these pages, he blubbered louder than was necessary or 
 usual on parting solemnities. Guilford thrust a stick 
 under the knot of the bundle, threw it over his shoulder, 
 and took up his new line of march. 
 
 They found Farmer Jumps just yoking in his oxen 
 near the market. 
 
 Mrs. March took him aside and spoke earnestly with 
 him for some time. He listened very attentively ; but, 
 whereas my mother talked and looked never more 
 seriously in her life, her auditor seemed on the eve of a 
 momentary explosion from laughter. I do not know 
 what Mrs. March said, although novelists are supposed 
 to hear everything ; but Mr. Jumps seemed to concur 
 with the little woman in black very heartily, and said 
 aloud, 
 
 " I ll adopt a course with him." 
 
 Then my mother took her leave of the good farmer, 
 kissed Guilford tenderly and long, and silently passed 
 away from them. In a few minutes the team was 
 ready. Jumps gave Guilford a lift by the arm, which 
 tossed him easily into the wagon, cracked his long whip, 
 shouting, 
 
 " Go long ! Gee, Bright !"
 
 88 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Guilford March was once more adrift on the wide, 
 wide world. 
 
 The absence of my brother was felt at once by all the 
 family. Maud thought she had neglected him. En 
 grossed as she was with her own secret sorrow, she had 
 not entered into the courts of her brother s troubled 
 heart, and now, with her accustomed self-condemnation, 
 she stood convicted in her own eyes of unsisterly care 
 lessness. 
 
 Bowes declared we couldn t keep house without him. 
 
 " Law me, suz !" Bowes more than once exclaimed, 
 " if my little man was only at home !" 
 
 She always called Guilford her little man. "If my 
 little man was only at home, things wouldn t go on so 
 at sixes and sevens. Why, Miss Maud, he s worth 
 more than all of em put together." 
 
 " AH of em," meant myself and a negro man who 
 came over every night to do anything too heavy for me. 
 
 Even old Brindle, our whimsical cow, appeared to 
 know the difference. She now came home later in the 
 evening, and presumed occasionally to stay out all 
 night. Finally, her ladyship must be put at pasture. 
 It was with difficulty that I could let down and set up 
 the bars that allowed ingress and egress for old Brindle 
 to and from the pasture-field. 
 
 I always felt friendly towards cattle ; their breath 
 was so sweet and their ways so odd. It was my delight 
 to drive a long line of them home as the sun was setting, 
 or in the mellow twilight. Brindle always placed her-
 
 GHOST STORIES. 89 
 
 self, methought, at the head of them, as they moved 
 along, swinging and switching their tails and chewing 
 their cuds increasing in number as they came, and 
 lowing musically in different keys. I had accompanied 
 Guilford sometimes in his wanderings in the woods after 
 the cows, and these wanderings together began to make 
 companions of us again. It led to many long talks, 
 world-wide musings, and extensive foundations for air- 
 castles. After he went, having no one to talk with 
 except an occasional French boy, I went dreaming and 
 talking to myself, thought of my " father in heaven" and 
 my poor mother on earth, and had many a little story to 
 tell Mabel at night, sitting in front of the kitchen fire 
 by ourselves. 
 
 But what more of old Brindle ? 
 
 Ah ! she was an eccentric genius. I have already 
 mentioned one peculiarity. Another of her favorite 
 customs was, to kick ; she did kick outrageously. 
 She broke her foot once, kicking ; though that made no 
 difference, except that one part of the hoof turned over, 
 and rested partly on the other. This made her limp 
 sometimes, but everybody knew it was sheer female af 
 fectation ; for, let a cow attempt to pass her limping 
 ladyship in the procession home, and see with what a 
 firm, fast, quick tramp she recovered her position at the 
 head of the line. And, as I have already intimated, 
 the broken foot caused no diminution in her kicking 
 propensity. Indeed Bowes always tied her hind legs. 
 "When Guilford stood by, however, it was only necessary
 
 90 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 to lay the rope across lior feet, so that she might feel its 
 pressure. It was fly-time now, and Guilford was gone, 
 to boot, and so poor Bowes and Brindle had no peace. 
 
 " She kicks dreadfully. I don t know what ails the 
 crittur," quoth Bowes.
 
 THE SCHOOLMASTER OUT WEST. 91 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE SCHOOLMASTER OUT WEST. 
 
 On yon gray stone that fronts the chancel door, 
 Worn smooth by busy feet now seen no more, 
 Each eve wg shot the marble through the ring, 
 When the heart danced, and life was in its spring. 
 
 ROGERS. 
 
 SCHOOLBOYS have always their leaders. It is not scho 
 larship that is required so much as courage, audacity, 
 tact. The best scholar ma}^ be a Tom Tit, the idlest 
 truant, king. 
 
 Our champions were Abe and Dick. 
 
 Abraham was a strapping young fellow, no one ever 
 knew where from. He " hired out around town " as the 
 phrase was, and did service, now as ostler and out of 
 doors servant for a gentleman whom every body loved 
 consequently was universally popular. He was our 
 recognised leader. 
 
 Equal to him in all but color was Dick, a clever 
 mulatto boy. His master was a merchant, and his own 
 servant, companion, right arm, everything, was a beauti 
 ful dog, a Newfoundland widely known as " Cap " 
 among friends, and " Captain * among strangers. 
 
 Now it is notorious, that the celebrated little city of
 
 92 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Detroit is intersected at right angles through wliat was 
 formerly the centie of tho city in fact it was thought 
 by many generations that it always would continue to be 
 the centre, notwithstanding the prognostication of the 
 little crazy engineer who, being employed to lay out the 
 streets, threw the centre a mile back from the river. 
 This proceeding only shows how one crazy man may be 
 wiser than a whole city, for time has proved the wisdom 
 of the thing. 
 
 If my reader will pardon the digression, I will also 
 relate how the little crack-brained engineer outdid the 
 city wag, even into the putting of money into the good 
 little gentleman s purse. 
 
 Few soberminded men foresaw the rapid settlement 
 of the great "West at the early time of the petit maUre 
 d ecole, and civil engineer, Monsieur Adolph Theodolite. 
 This prophetic genius, however, did foresee, and made 
 arrangements to enrich himself thereby. He made a 
 map. The emigrant needed a map, inquired for Theo 
 dolite s map, bought the little French mathematician s 
 map, and for the first period of his life Adolph owned 
 two good coats. Then the shrewd Yankee auctioneer 
 and city wag, Mr. Jephunneh Nutmeg, with the charita 
 ble view of enriching himself even at Adolph s expense 
 for who would mind taking profitable advantage of a 
 little crazy Frenchman? entered into negociations for 
 Adolph s map. To Mr. Nutmeg s astonishment Adolph 
 was too prudent to part with his treasure, without a fair 
 compensation. Xutmeg offered fifty piastres.
 
 THE SCHOOL MAS TEE OUT WEST. 93 
 
 " By gar ! Monsieur Nutmeg, you tink me fool, heigh ? 
 you shall not have cle leetle map for less dan one tousand 
 dollar!" 
 
 In vain Nutmeg assured Adolph that the emigration, 
 fever would soon subside, and pointed back by way of 
 confirmation to the decades of years already elapsed 
 during which no such thing had ever been known. 
 
 Adolph s reply was, " Then what for you want him ?" 
 
 In vain Nutmeg raised his offer to one hundred, two, 
 five, seven, eight hundred dollars. Monsieur Adolph 
 Theodolite had his legs planted in immovable rock. 
 
 Finally Nutmeg paid the price, and issued numerous 
 flaming advertisements which he sent East and "VVestj 
 North and South, far and near. 
 
 Meanwhile the witless Adolph was not idle. He took 
 his thousand dollars, went to New York, where he got 
 out an essentially new map covering the same country 
 but embracing new surveys, new towns, new counties, 
 up to the last hour. 
 
 "What was the surprise of Jephunneh, the shrewd 
 Yankee ? His visions of riches gone ! Outwitted by a 
 Frenchman, little better than a fool ! How the towns 
 people laughed in their sleeve as they passed the 
 auctioneer ! How they stopped at the street-corners and 
 joked about it ! 
 
 It was good to the ancicn regime thus in the midst of 
 the conflict raging between their easy old customs, and 
 the sharp, eager, pushing innovations of the Yankees, to 
 see one of their little ones gain the advantage.
 
 94 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Monsieur Adolph Theodolite gave up school teaching 
 and surveying for the nonce, and took to selling his new 
 map, which brought him a fortune. Would we might 
 leave him here. The restless little man plunged into 
 new schemes, dived with excitement into the sea of 
 speculation, and came out the same as a poor man. 
 
 Alas ! poor Adolph Theodolite ! 
 
 And yet the wisdom of his enterprises isniow admitted. 
 Steepled ports and towns are towering where he pre 
 dicted they would stand. Like most men in advance of 
 his age he was stigmatized, in a laughing way, as insane. 
 
 But to our story. 
 
 At the intersection of the two main avenues of the 
 city stood the market-house, where the butchers from 
 time immemorial had honored Saint Patrick by hanging 
 his saintship in effigy. This, or rather the open square 
 in front, was the common rendezvous for the clients of 
 Abe and Dick. 
 
 Soon after dusk on any moonlight night, in pleasant 
 seasons of the year, you might hear the loud whistle and 
 cheery voice of Abe, as he came capering down the 
 street. Then followed the banging of doors, as the lads 
 rushed out after him, having incontinently thrown down 
 their books. 
 
 From the opposite part of the town came Dick, troll 
 ing one of the early negro melodies, " Zip Coon," or 
 " Ole Virginny neber tire, with the loud accompani 
 ment of rattling and banging doors, as the boys from his 
 end of the city flew after Dick.
 
 THE SCHOOLMASTER OUT "WEST. 95 
 
 When gathered at the market-square, what sports! 
 what merry games of red lion, crack the whip, or leap 
 frog ! 
 
 Sometimes we would consort together at the school 
 yard that green spot in every man s memory. Our 
 school-yard was covered with grass. The basement of 
 the school-house made us a capital jail. Abe was the 
 jailor, Dick the sheriff, with Cap for deputy. "We hid 
 ourselves anywhere within certain limits in the vicinity 
 of the school-house ; and when buried far in the depths 
 of a hay-loft, or among the dark places of some ruined 
 building, or in a wood-pile. I used to enjoy such 
 excitement listening for the dreaded, yet half-wished- 
 for steps of the stealthy Dick, and the searching Cap, 
 with his eager bark or disappointed snuffle. 
 
 Cap was trained to the highest point. lie was as 
 accomplished a man or boy catcher as a bloodhound, and 
 as expert a thief as any London pickpocket. Seldom 
 known to bite, he would hold you gently by the collar 
 till his master came up, and then pick your pocket with 
 a grace. Dick was such a good-hearted fellow, he 
 never abused the power this dog gave him over the 
 boys. Little did I know then how much influence the 
 acquaintance with this mulatto was one day to exert 
 over my earthly career. Lucky, happy days of boy 
 hood s democratic equality ! I love you more and more 
 as I look back. 
 
 Behold us again, seated or lying on the grass in the 
 bright moonshine, or along the fence, perched like so
 
 96 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 many sociable birds, telling stories or singing songs. 
 Those were times when the wisest of us all more than 
 half-believed the tales of fairy land, the Arabian Nights 
 Entertainments, and Pilgrim s Progress an astounding 
 favorite with me. Arid who now so rash as gainsay 
 the truth of the good old stories ? Happy he who par 
 takes largely of these Eden trees, eating the fruits in 
 childhood, and digesting the truth of them further on in 
 his pilgrimage ! 
 
 Then the music of childhood, boyhood, youth ! What 
 opera airs, trilled by maestro or prima donna, so sweet 
 as the good old simple songs, in the long ago of tender 
 years and tender hearts ? 
 
 Dick s negro melodies, with our rude choruses, were 
 miracles of harmony. But " Blue-eyed Stranger," that 
 was one of Dick s better songs, our greatest favorite. 
 Then there was a little lisping urchin, a tavern-keeper s 
 son, whose singing was popular, from his lisp, and from 
 the quaintness and rustic simplicity of the words. I 
 remember but one verse : 
 
 " Oh ! can she knit, 
 
 And can she sew, 
 And can she make 
 The shuttle go, 
 
 Jimmy, Jimmy, boy ? 
 Yes, she can knit, 
 
 And she can sew, 
 And she can make 
 The shuttle go, 
 
 Mammy, mammy, dear."
 
 THE SCHOOLMASTER OUT WEST. 97 
 
 Whereupon, in the succeeding verses, the mother grants 
 consent, and Jimmy marries the accomplished damsel 
 he loves and praises. 
 
 But independent of Dick s dog and his Blue-eyed 
 Stranger, there was an additional interest excited by 
 Dick in the hearts of small boys at that time. The 
 Morgan excitement was running high, and Dick the 
 sheriff, on catching an urchin, always inquired 
 
 " Mason or Anti-mason?" 
 
 and let the prisoner go free, or toted him off to the jail, 
 according to his reply. We youngsters long thought 
 Dick must be initiated in all the dreadful mysteries of 
 the secret order. And to this day, I remove my hat 
 reverently whenever I meet a man known to be a 
 Mason (or even Know Nothing), for Dick s sake. That 
 both Abe and Dick were Shoepacs I never had the 
 least doubt, and I respect them accordingly. 
 
 A distinguished occasion once served to test the abil 
 ity and courage of our champions. After having man 
 aged the schoolmasters since the beginning of time, as 
 proved by all accounts, both traditional and historical, 
 the boys of our quaint little antique city had imposed 
 upon them, at the hands of Archibald Magroy, LL.D. 
 and other trustees, a master who dared to assume the 
 reins of government himself. During the golden age 
 when Allen and John were little lads, the numbers of 
 ferules and birchen rods destroyed must have been 
 great. An occasional punishment by violence was 
 tolerated, but every abuse of the penal power was 
 
 5
 
 98 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 resented, either secretly or openly, by the good fellows 
 of the school ; and schoolmasters were taught, by whole 
 some experience, what those limits were, beyond which 
 they passed at their peril. 
 
 The present worshipful chancellor of the rod, Mr. 
 Merciful Thrasher, chose, presnmingly, to mark the 
 jurisdiction of his own court of equity ; and such an in 
 fraction of popular sovereignty was not to be tolerated. 
 Mr. Thrasher was a gentleman of medium height, slen 
 der figure, a decided expression and manner, and much 
 pride of character. His first step was to take the bull 
 by the horns, and thrash the largest youths. His bold 
 ness overawed the little Athens, and they forthwith 
 began to conspire together to undermine his throne ; 
 but by virtue of his spies, he outwitted them here. As 
 a measure of last resort, the aid of Abe and Dick, their 
 allies, was demanded. 
 
 An innocent little fight between two lads bullies 
 among their fellows had been arranged and went off 
 nicely. The principals, accessories before and after 
 witnesses in short all parties to this case, were brought 
 to light, and on the following day were to be brought to 
 punishment. JSTow the time-honored right to put boy 
 against boy and raise a fight at a moment s notice had, 
 to say the least, been winked at by all persons in autho 
 rity and here the oppressed parties determined to make 
 a stand for their ancient privileges. 
 
 A meeting was held by night in the school yard. 
 
 The case is stated.
 
 THE SCHOOLMASTER OUT WEST. 99 
 
 " Well," said Abe, " what is he going to do ?" 
 
 "I sliouldn L wonder, replied one, "if he flogged ns 
 to-morrow from a to izzard." 
 
 " With what ?" 
 
 " He sent out this afternoon to the bush, and had a 
 dozen birch slicks cut and brought in. 
 
 "I m of the opinion," quoth Dick, "that you d better 
 all cut stick yourselves that is, come up missing to 
 morrow morning." 
 
 "That will only defer the matter till another day. 
 All Merciful takes his time. I never knew him to whip 
 a chap on the spur of the moment. He s as cool as a 
 cucumber." 
 
 " Then," said Dick, " suppose you all quit school ?" 
 
 " Folks at home won t stand that." 
 
 " Then I gives it up." 
 
 Abe, however, was not of Dick s despairing humor. 
 
 " Where are those rods ?" he asked. 
 
 "In the desk." 
 
 "Can you unlock it?" 
 
 " No, we ve tried all the keys in the town I believe, 
 every one of us brought all we could from home." 
 
 "Is the school-house door locked?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Are the windows fastened ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Abe, and Dick, and several of the larger boys now 
 drew off" a one side for consultation. On their return 
 they announced nothing to be done that night, and the
 
 100 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 little fellows were told they might as well go home 
 which the most of us. myself among the number, 
 innocently did. It came to light afterwards that there 
 was a lurking suspicion in the breast of one of our 
 urchins, who ran straight to Mr. Thrasher s lodgings, and 
 made known to the master everything that had been so 
 far said or done. 
 
 Shortly afterwards Abe and Dick, who had pretended 
 to go home, returned to the school-yard in company 
 with the boys, and proceeded to fulfill their intention. 
 The rods must be destroyed that night by some means 
 or other. At last it was thought best, for fear of detec 
 tion, that the two champions only should have a hand in 
 it, for there was as great a desire to outwit their master 
 as to escape the threatened flogging. 
 
 Accordingly the two worthies advanced to a window 
 and raised it. Abe climbed in. Dick remained outside 
 standing guard. The first thing heard from Abe was an 
 exclamation of pain as his leg came in sharp contact 
 with a bench. 
 
 Dick laughed, " Hope it wasn t you shin, old boy, he ! 
 he!" 
 
 Abe was next heard to utter something about the 
 darkness of the room, and all was again silent. 
 
 " Can t you find the desk ?" whispered Dick. 
 
 " No ! I don t believe there ever was one here." 
 
 " Be quick !" said Dick ; "I hear a step. 
 
 " Quick ! quick ! golly, somebody s coming Massa 
 Thrasher himself!"
 
 THE SCOOLMASTEK OUT WEST. 101 
 
 " I ve found eni !" cried A.be. 
 
 " So have I, you rascals !" pealed forth the voice of 
 All Merciful, as he pushed his way through the dark to 
 where Dick stood, whom not minding, he sprang for the 
 open window to catch the ringleader himself. 
 
 " Don t let him in I" cried Abe. 
 
 Cap had already seized the schoolmaster by the seat 
 of his pantaloons. 
 
 " Down ! down, Cap !" cried Dick, as he took hold 
 himself. The obedient Cap let go. and Dick drew down 
 the enemy, who turned upon him fiercely ; and while 
 the two were struggling, Abe shouted 
 
 " Hold him ! hold him !" until he had destroyed the 
 rods, regained the window, and leaped over their heads 
 to the ground. 
 
 According to the plan previously concerted, the two 
 champions were to escape detection, if possible. By a 
 violent jerk, Dick succeeded in extricating himself from 
 the clutch of Mr. Thrasher, and took to his heels. But 
 ere Abe, who stood, by, waiting to see his companion 
 free, could follow his example, All Merciful grasped 
 him, evidently bent on distinguishing who it might be 
 that had so boldly invaded his dominions and destroyed 
 his magazines. But Abe was favored by the darkness. 
 
 " Let go ! Let go ! I give you fair warning," said 
 Abe, averting his face. 
 
 " Who are you, sir ? I believe you are a thief, sir !" 
 cried Mr. Merciful Thrasher.
 
 102 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 This enraged the honest Abraham, and twining on<- 
 of his long arms around the schoolmaster, he grasped 
 the slender man as if in a vice, and lifting him from the 
 ground, attempted to overthrow him by an effort of 
 main strength. But it seemed that Merciful was no pooi 
 wrestler, and his agility put him on a level with Abe, 
 and a regular wrestling match ensued. Dick would 
 fain have aided his friend, but the latter ordered him off. 
 
 " Keep off, Dick, just see fair play !" 
 
 By this time a few of the boys had gathered around 
 the wrestlers. Great was their mingled awe, astonish 
 ment, joy, and semi-regret, to behold the only master 
 they had ever feared or respected wrestling on the grass 
 with Abe the ostler. At last Abe got his adversary 
 under, so as to hold him. 
 
 " Promise to do nothing about it, Mr. Thrasher," said 
 the boys champion. 
 
 " Never !" gasped forth the schoolmaster from between 
 his teeth. 
 
 Two of the boys came forward and interceded for their 
 vanquished enemy. But Abe vowed he would hold 
 him down until morning, unless he promised what was 
 required. Attempting at this moment to change his 
 hold, his adversary seized the instant, and nearly suc 
 ceeded in turning Abe. The latter now called for Dick, 
 and by means of a combined effort they dragged the 
 discomfited knight of the birch to the door of the base 
 ment story of the schoolhouse their jail and were
 
 THE SCHOOLMASTER OUT WEST. 103 
 
 about to make him prisoner, long enough, at least, for 
 them to secure their own escape, when Mr. Thrasher 
 rendered the promise. 
 
 " Neither to say anything about this night, nor punish, 
 any of the boys to-morrow ?" 
 
 " Neither !" 
 
 " Never flog any of them again ?" 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 " Keep your word like a man ?" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 Abe and Dick let go. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Merciful Thrasher, to those of his 
 scholars who were standing near, " I have taught school 
 in many places. This is my first defeat. I shall take a 
 steamboat to-morrow morning for the West." 
 
 The boys handed him his cap in silence. He drew it 
 over his brows, and strode homewards the boys mak 
 ing way for him respectfully. 
 
 Before he reached his quarters, however, he was 
 overtaken by a committee of the lads, who attempted to 
 apologize through their spokesman. 
 
 " No sir ! no sir ! No apologies." 
 
 They offered, in the name of the school, to make any 
 amends in their power. 
 
 " No sir. You were obliged to call in foreign aid. I 
 will not trust any of you again. No atonement possi 
 ble no atonement." 
 
 His feelings, however, were touched by their kind 
 ness and regret. He shook hands with them gratefully,
 
 104 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 yet proudly, requesting them to prevent the lads of the 
 school from going to the boat the next morning to see 
 him oft . This was readily promised. 
 
 On the following morning the school met as usual. 
 Nothing was said of the incidents of the previous night 
 until the hour of the steamer s departure had gone by. 
 When the fact of the vacancy of the throne was 
 announced, three cheers were given for the dethroned 
 monarch, three times three for Abe and Dick. The 
 boys dispersed for their homes with the news, too good, 
 almost, to be true, " Xo school ! no school !" 
 
 The question of school discipline now became one of 
 grave importance with the city patriarchs and squires. 
 The interregnum lasted many months, no one being 
 forthcoming of sufficient self-confidence to assume the 
 pedagogic reins. 
 
 After great pains, and extensive inquiries over the 
 Eastern States, the place of Merciful Thrasher was 
 filled. 
 
 The name of this hardy adventurer was Oliphant, and 
 he was an M.D. The boys called him Dr. Oily Fat. 
 Boys are ingenious at nicknames ; they frequently ex 
 press contraries. So it was in this case, for Oily Fat 
 was as lean as Cassius, and never had known the luxury 
 of fat in his life. But he was an athletic, sinewy man, 
 and combined knowledge with power beyond precedent 
 or rivalry. 
 
 "What his true history was, no one ever knew ; for he 
 told such extraordinary things of himself, that no one
 
 THE SCHOOLMASTER OUT WEST. 105 
 
 but the youngest pretended to believe anything he said 
 at least concerning himself. And yet it might be 
 true, for he appeared equal to any emergency. The 
 doctor was a remarkable man every way. His look was 
 ludicrously frightful; he had straight standing black 
 hair, black eyes that "never fell before mortal or 
 immortal," so Oily Fat often declared emphatically, 
 and immense whiskers. Those whiskers ! I never shall 
 forget them. One was black, the other a fiery red! 
 This is no fiction. Did he not dye the red one every 
 month or two, and did he not, while the process of 
 coloring was going on, wear a white kerchief around his 
 face, and say he had the tooth-ache, when any little 
 innocent kindly inquired of the doctor what was the 
 matter ? 
 
 Doctor Oliphant s appearance went a long way in 
 his favor from the threshold. Then his course of pro 
 ceedings was no less inspiring. God forgive him the 
 false words he spake, though doubtless for our good, 
 and in order to obtain that influence necessary over 
 young minds, and the use of that ferule necessary to 
 young shoulders. 
 
 He had taught school in no less than fifteen States 
 This was not the first occasion he had been summoned 
 to break in refractory schools. He had been sent for 
 frequently from one end of the Union to the other for 
 precisely this purpose. He never had any trouble but 
 twice. Iri Georgia, he was obliged to knock down ever 
 so many tall fellows. He had marvellous stories of
 
 106 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 handcuffs and fetters. And in Tennessee he did not 
 succeed in curbing the spirit of insubordination until he 
 introduced coffins, and laid pistols on the table, coolly 
 remarking;, that the first mutineer should fill one of 
 
 O / 
 
 those coffins. 
 
 His pathway to our hearts was no less bold and admi 
 rable, though not so horribly picturesque. He permit 
 ted little manifestations of insubordination on the part 
 of small boys to pass. The first victim was the largest 
 boy in school, and son of the greatest man in the city, 
 no less a dignitary than our newly-arrived Governor. 
 This youth was a wild, good fellow, the ringleader in all 
 mischief. On this occasion he declared the master 
 should not thrash a certain one of the little fellows, as 
 the doctor was proceeding to administer one or two 
 light blows of his ferule on the hand of a wincing, 
 whimpering urchin. 
 
 I shall not attempt to describe the scene which was 
 enacted before our eyes. Suffice to say, the doctor 
 conquered, and flogged the rebel intermeddler soundly. 
 He seemed never to have done. He ordered him to 
 stand on the benches, on the desks, on the very stove, 
 and at each hesitation on the part of the victim, he 
 administered a " dose," as we always called his thwacks. 
 
 That bold punishment put an end to school-boy reign 
 in our city. Many fine points there were, too, about 
 our terrible master. His absolute sway was never 
 abused but in the one instance recorded. A poor boy, 
 or one of tender years, he scarcely punished. He was
 
 THE SCHOOLMASTER OUT WEST. 107 
 
 an eloquent lecturer, and introduced an entire change 
 in studying, for although it had traditionally been voted 
 a bore to study now it became a pleasure. He lec 
 tured enthusiastically on arithmetic, the driest of sub 
 jects, and performed beautiful experiments in chemistry 
 then a new science among us. So great was the inte 
 rest in this study, that many scapegraces sat. up all the 
 night, voluntarily, and laboriously burnished plates of 
 the now old-fashioned galvanic battery, with which he 
 performed such wonders ! 
 
 Yes, I believe, after all, that our good friend, Dr. 
 Oliphant was a gentleman and a scholar ; And if God 
 forgave, or he himself believed, the ingenious fictions 
 which he palmed off upon our credulous young minds, 
 I have no doubt he died as a Christian. God may 
 forgive a falsehood told a child, but the child never 
 does. ~No matter what apparent necessity, or how good 
 soever the motive, when you come to detect the deceit, 
 and see that those who had the care of you imposed 
 upon you, trifled with your understanding, cheated, 
 deluded you, it lessens your confidence in the integrity 
 of man, and violates the majesty of truth eternal in your 
 breast.
 
 108 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A GLIMPSE OF SQUATTER LIFE. 
 
 None can describe the sweets of country life, 
 
 But those blessed men that do enjoy and taste them. 
 
 Mxv s Agrippina. 
 
 will Guilford come home, mamma?" said 
 Mabel, one evening as we were all sitting around the 
 sewing-table. 
 
 " I wish, Mabel might tell me," replied my mother. 
 " He grew weary of the apron-strings, 1 suppose ; and 
 became too much of a man for chores. " 
 
 " Too much of a man !" exclaimed Mabel, " why, he 
 is only twelve years of age not much older than 
 "Walter, and he never will grow tired of us, I know." 
 
 "Twelve years!" said Maud, "he is twelve centu 
 ries ! Has he not running in his veins all the blood of 
 all the Howards?" 
 
 "We were laughing at this when the door opened and 
 there appeared an unknown character in a strange 
 costume for our town not yet opulent enough for 
 beggars. A little old stunted giant in rags, at least out 
 at the elbows and out at the knees, his hat torn on the 
 crown, and slouched over his dirty face. No one recog 
 nised this unique personage.
 
 A GLIMPSE OF SQUATTER LIFE. 109 
 
 "Friends," came a low voice, "can you give me 
 something to eat and a " 
 
 Here the low voice broke down completely. 
 
 " Take off your hat, young sir," said Mrs. March, not 
 knowing what else to say. 
 
 The hat was removed. 
 
 " Guilford ! Guilford !" shouted Mabel, and she ran 
 up to the ragged urchin and threw her arms about his 
 neck. 
 
 Mrs. March, too, caught him in her arms and 
 strained him hysterically to her breast. " My boy ! my 
 Guilford ! my son ! what in the world has happened 
 thee ? Where have you been ? How comes this so ?" 
 
 " Farming," answered Guilford. 
 
 Then he came and sat down between Maud and me 
 in front of the bright fire-place, while Mabel ran out to 
 tell the news to Bowes. 
 
 "I have had enough of farming," said Guilford. 
 
 " Good ! good !" laughed and cried Mabel, who reap 
 peared with Bowes, wiping her hands on her apron 
 again and again. She always did this when excited. 
 
 Bowes ran up wildly to her " little man," kissed him 
 and rushed out nearly tearing her apron to pieces. Then 
 Bowes flew away to the cow-yard, shouting 
 
 " The little man s come ! Brindle, the little man s 
 come !" 
 
 And she patted Brindle on the shoulder. But that 
 dignified quadruped vouchsafed no reply. She gave 
 one or two uneasy switches with her tail, and finally
 
 110 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 tossed her horns wickedly around towards the little 
 crazy woman. And Bowes called her an old thing, or 
 hussy, or something severe, and hurried back to the 
 kitchen, where she found Mabel zealously hunting after 
 some potatoes to put on to roast for the hungry returned 
 prodigal. Then Bowes and Mabel had a very satisfac 
 tory talk on the exciting cause of so much stir about 
 the house, and in a little while they came in with cold 
 meat, hot baked Mackinaw potatoes, Bowes s bread, and 
 Brindle s butter. 
 
 As soon as he had finished his supper everybody drew 
 near the fire, Bowes and all, to hear Guilford s story. 
 But as he was frequently interrupted, and he himself 
 frequently strayed off in his narration, we shall convey 
 it to the reader in a more straight-forward manner of 
 our own, though the story may suffer by the tell 
 ing. 
 
 Farmer Jumps and Guilford reached the farm-house 
 at about nightfall. The sweet smell of the woods 
 pleased Guilford now in a new sense, he began to feel a 
 sort of proprietorship in it, it was to be his atmosphere. 
 
 Great was the manifest surprise of Dame Jumps on 
 beholding our little hero. How a well-dressed city boy 
 should ask her old man Jumps to come out and live on 
 the farm, was a nine days wonder: she continued all 
 the evening to gaze at him. with astonishment. 
 
 "Why Jumps, what on airth are you going to do 
 with him ?" 
 
 " Make a farmer of him."
 
 A GLIMPSE OF SQUATTER LIFE. Ill 
 
 "Wall, I do declare ! Wall, did you ever? Wall, I 
 never!" was all that she could add. 
 
 There were three little Jumpses, though one, the 
 eldest, was a pretty long leap, a tall stem of a youth, 
 that looked as if he had sprouted forth in a night. This 
 was Joram Jumps. He was about fourteen years of 
 age. Then came a boy of twelve, and a flaxen-haired 
 limp of a girl of ten. The children seemed to regard 
 Guilford with the wonder of their mother, added to a 
 little awe of their own, and they moved about like 
 mutes, treating their city guest with an occasional stare. 
 
 The interior of our beautiful peninsula was but 
 thinly settled, and the country around Farmer Jumps s 
 was almost a wilderness. His house was a mere cabin 
 of logs, chinked with a clayey mud, composed of one 
 story, and that contained but the common room in 
 which the family ate, sat, slept, shook with fever and 
 ague, and held periodical prayer meetings for the pio 
 neers of the neighborhood. 
 
 Some short cakes were baking in a spider over the 
 coals as Guilford entered. An iron tea-kettle was sing 
 ing a cheerful welcome and waving its little fleecy 
 banners of steam, and by the time Jumps had turned 
 off the cattle and re-entered, the cabin, was filled with 
 the rich odor of frying pork and potatoes, and Dame 
 Jumps, assisted by her daughter, whose name was 
 Susannah, was setting the table for supper. 
 
 The crockery-ware, said Guilford, consisted of the 
 odds and ends of many different old sets, of as many
 
 112 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 different colors, originally brown, blue, white even 
 yellow was not wanting. These relics of antiquity were 
 ostentatiously set up, each piece separately, on its edge, 
 on the shelves of a red cupboard. It seems that above 
 everything in the house, except her feather bed, Mrs. 
 Jumps valued her " cheena" as she denominated this 
 rubbish of broken wares ; and it is a curious fact, that 
 people always bother themselves and fret away their 
 lives on what they foolishly fancy gives them the most 
 happiness. So it was with the dame, as, with a tremb 
 ling care, Suz handed down the plates, cups, and saucers 
 for the table, her mother fumed and scolded at her, at 
 every turn, lest she should break the cheena. 
 
 Before the table was set, Suz had quite fully enlisted, 
 though unknowingly, the sympathy of Guilford. This 
 sympathy was still further excited when all drew up to 
 the table ; for when Mrs. Jumps came to pour tea from 
 a black tea-pot with a cover that would be ever coming 
 off, and when Mrs. Jumps deposited sugar in the cups, 
 she put the least in Susannah s poor Suz was the only 
 one at the table who cared for sugar at all. But Guil 
 ford managed so as to give the little pouting girl his own 
 cup. This won her over to him ; so that after supper, 
 and she had helped her mother to clear away the dishes, 
 and received the same amount of abuse as before supper, 
 on account of the cheena, she got the two brothers to 
 gether, and all three of the farmer s children settled 
 around Guilford very sociably for the evening, in the 
 light of the fire, candles being reckoned an extrava-
 
 A GLIMPSE OF SQUATTER LIFE. 113 
 
 gance. It may be needless to say what everybody 
 knows that all town boys are regarded by their coun 
 try cousins as a sort of superior race. This inly acknow 
 ledged superiority, however, the country lads are ever 
 ready to dispute. To Guilford s knowledge, on the 
 occasion before us, these farmer lads were soon ready to 
 defer, for the purpose of more fully extracting informa 
 tion on sundry matters in which they stood in igno 
 rance. 
 
 Accordingly Guilford interested them deeply in his 
 accounts of caravans, circuses, militia-trainings, fire 
 engines, skates, schools, kites, tops, jewsharps, and mar 
 bles. They were disappointed, however, to find he 
 knew so little about ginger-bread, a goodly array of 
 which, in bird-like, beast-like, man-like, and woman 
 like forms, they had once seen in a shop window. There 
 had been a lurking disposition at first, on the part of 
 the young Jumpses, to humble my brother next day 
 so Susannah afterwards revealed ; but his frankness, 
 and the satisfactory information he gave, on the whole, 
 changed their intentions ; and far from desiring now to 
 expose his ignorance of the various secrets of wood 
 craft, they resolved to aid him all in their power to learn 
 farming. As for Suz, she was perfectly charmed, as 
 she told me long afterwards, with his gentleness and 
 superior understanding. To her, Guilford was of a new 
 order of being, and at once she began to " slick up," as 
 she said. 
 
 Then bed-time came. Guilford had observed but one
 
 SUOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 bed, and wondered whether Jumps and his wife and 
 family and he were all to sleep in it. But Mrs. Jumps 
 soon solved that problem, by drawing from beneath the 
 bedstead a truckle bed large enough to hold the three 
 boys ; and a couch was made for Susannah on a long 
 blue chest which, by the way, had probably held their 
 worldly goods and chattels when tliey emigrated from 
 "Vermont. 
 
 Mr. Jumps being the last to retire, blew out the light, 
 that is to say, covered up the fire, leaving the hearth in 
 sole possession of a speckled cat, and a pan of buck 
 wheat batter, placed there to " rise" for breakfast. But 
 no sooner did silence prevail in the loghouse, than Guil- 
 ford heard a long dismal howl, that arose from the 
 \voods in the midst of which they lay. Soon came 
 another, longer, and mingled with fellow-howls, each 
 one seeming to draw iiigher and nigher to the door, till 
 at length it seemed to be besieged with a roar of dismal 
 howlings. 
 
 Guilford drew the coverlid over his head ; but his 
 bed-fellows only laughed at his fears. Ashamed of 
 betraying himself in such wise to these country bump 
 kins, he uncovered his head. A perfect blast of roars 
 and threats, mingled with whines and screeches of dis 
 appointed yet greedy rage saluted his ears. 
 
 " What is it?" demanded he in a whisper. 
 
 "Nothing but wolves. Go to sleep." 
 
 " How do you like country music, boy ?" asked Mrs. 
 Jumps, with a coarse laugh.
 
 A GLIMPSE OF SQUATTER LIFE. 115 
 
 Mr. Jumps interposed now, and soothed the alarm of 
 Guilford by telling him that the animals were of a small, 
 harmless sort, and though they had howled, apparently, 
 at the door every night since he had squatted there, yet 
 on getting up to drive them away he never found them 
 anywhere near, so that now the family took no notice 
 of them. 
 
 At daybreak the household was astir. Guilford arose 
 with his bedfellows, and Mr. Jumps set him at once to 
 work. He was dispatched with Tobias, or Toby, as 
 they called the younger lad, after the cows. They 
 were soon found, and easily driven home; but Guilford 
 returned with his feet and legs wet to the knees in the 
 heavy dew. Then he assisted Joram at chopping wood 
 for the house, so that breakfast-time found him already 
 fatigued. Even Susannah laughed a little at his pale 
 looks, but soon checked herself, for fear of breaking a 
 piece of the yellow cheena she was taking from its 
 throne on the red cupboard. My brother was not at all 
 discouraged ; he had a stout heart, and breakfast 
 refreshed him. After the morning meal, all went to a 
 small clearing not far from the house not more than 
 forty acres of the Jumps estate was as yet under culti 
 vation. The work before them now was f altering, as 
 the squatters called it, or clearing the land of felled 
 trees or brushwood. Serviceable logs were drawn off, 
 and that which was left-they gathered into great heaps, 
 and set on fire. Jumps and Joram busied themselves 
 with the logs, and made the woods ring again with the
 
 116 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 blows of their axes, and the sound of their voices as 
 they shouted over the oxen. 
 
 When dinner-time came, Dame Jumps appeared iri 
 the angel avocation of blowing a trumpet that is to 
 say sounding a long tin horn. She showed herself at 
 the corner of the cabin, and with the instrument applied 
 to her mouth with one hand, while the other arm she 
 held akimbo at her side to assist in the mighty effort, 
 she brayed forth a Jericho-shaking blast. There was no 
 resisting this call, it said in Mrs. Jumps s most decided 
 manner : 
 
 " Dinner s ready, and waits for no man." 
 
 Guilford was hungry and ate heartily. He deserved 
 some reward for his plight. His hands were scratched, 
 his face blackened, and his eyes filled up with cinders. 
 Suz expressed her sympathy by bringing a tin wash-basin, 
 and water none of the cleanest from a spring near by 
 the house, distilling through the black vegetable mould 
 into a barrel which was half alive with insects, while 
 occasionally, a lingering frog who had come up to sun 
 his body out of the torpor of an October day, plumped 
 himself down with a splash as you approached. 
 
 After dinner the party betook themselves to the clear 
 ing again, where they worked away till near nightfall, 
 when Toby and Guilford were again dispatched for the 
 cows ; no trifling errand, as the animals wandered far 
 during the day water in the -\voods being plenty and 
 the boys were both fatigued. 
 
 And the evenings, how different they at Green Run
 
 A GLIMPSE OF SQUATTER LIFE. 117 
 
 from our sweet, quiet, yet lively evenings in the library 
 at home ! The good humor and refinement of my 
 mother, the high-toned, soft spoken morality of Maud, 
 the incessant raillery of Mabel ; these were exchanged 
 for the blunt good sense of Mr. Jumps, the trumpet 
 clangor of Mrs. Jumps, and the vacant wonderment of 
 the young Jumpses. 
 
 A fortnight or more the male inhabitants of the cabin 
 were engaged in the clearing, during which time the 
 fatigues were too great to admit of much conversation at 
 night. On some very pleasant evenings, however, the 
 fascinating Indian summer atmosphere would tempt 
 them to sit out in front of the door, one on a bench, 
 another on the stump of a log, and while the evening 
 came on, soothed into quiet by the chirrup of the cricket, 
 and the monotonous drone of the tree toad, and lit up by 
 the fire-flies in the bush, Jumps would hush the ever 
 prevailing complaints of his wife, and the stupid ques 
 tionings of his sons, and moralize learnedly over his pipe 
 to the more intelligent Guilford. 
 
 " If I weren t a farmer, I never would be one; no, its 
 the last calling on airth for a man in this country. 
 Now here s my boys and that gal, what do they know ? 
 hardly enough to come in when it rains. Now, let me 
 advise you to adopt a course." 
 
 " Yes sir," said Guilford, " what course would you 
 adopt, Mr. Jumps?" 
 
 " Wall, every man that gits tired doin anything else, 
 or breaks down in life, always thinks he can make a
 
 118 SHOEPAC KECOL LECTIONS. 
 
 farmer of himself, just as easy as rollin off a log, but it 
 ain t so tarnal easy. A man ought to have a turn for it, 
 with a constitution like a horse. He must work like a 
 dog, and be weather-wise as the Prophet Elijah. And 
 that ain t all nuther he must adopt a course." 
 
 " Yes sir," said Guilford -who knew already that " to 
 adopt a course," was the Jumps philosophy his panacea 
 for every ill. Jumps rarely condescends to explain 
 himself after uttering this indisputable dogma. And so 
 now, he arose, entered the house to rekindle his pipe, 
 and reappeared with a live coal, which he shifted rapid 
 ly from his right hand to his left, and as swiftly from 
 his left hand to his right, vainly endeavoring to plant it 
 in the bowl. The refractory coal dropped on the floor. 
 Jumps took the tongs to it. 
 
 " Yes !" resumed the smoking philosopher, " a man 
 may think he knows all about farming and get his fingers 
 burnt after all. Now if it weren t for fear of going 
 through the woods like an over particular gal, and taking 
 up with a crooked stick after all, I d change my" 
 
 At this moment Joram broke in. 
 
 " Dad, don t you think I d make a smart minister of 
 the gospel ?" 
 
 Mr. Jumps, senior, did not reply. He rose up hastily, 
 knocked the ashes from the bowl of his pipe on the nail 
 of his thumb, went in the cabin, covered up the fire, and 
 went to bed. 
 
 " Every fool thinks he can be a preacher, too," quoth 
 Guilford to himself.
 
 A GLIMPSE OF S Q TJ A T T K K LIFE. 119 
 
 Guilford was not too young to perceive some of the 
 hopeful peculiarities of thought and feeling among the 
 squatters. 
 
 First, they were of the opinion that their lot in life 
 was a little the hardest on the face of the earth. 
 
 Second, to vex the patient souls of this primitive 
 people, there must always needs be something wrong in 
 the daily course of events peculiarly theirs to suffer 
 the world around them of course exempt, as everybody 
 else s world always is, and always was, of a coulvur de 
 rose. 
 
 The cow was always dry; the ox always wanted 
 shoeing; an utensil. was always broke, or a neighbor 
 had borrowed it just when it was wanted ; the weather 
 never suited the crops, and the crops neither suited the 
 weather nor came up to their expectations ; there never 
 was time to do what was required to be done now / 
 Mrs. Jumps thought she worked herself to death, and 
 had no comforts ; Susannah was always out of shoes, 
 and yet would wear them, though they cost a fortune ; 
 the boys wanted jack-knives, jewsharps, new caps, and 
 school-books they never could be prevailed" upon to 
 study when they got them. In short, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Jumps had left the pleasantest home, the dearest friends, 
 the most lucrative business, the best schools, the grayest 
 parson, and the greenest hills, at home in good old Vair- 
 mount, to come to Michigan., where they had no neigh 
 bors, no parson, no hills, and the children were growing 
 up without education, they were all working themselves
 
 120 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 to death, and, after all, didn t seem to get on. With 
 reference to the last complaint, we may as well antici 
 pate a few years, and state, that notwithstanding this 
 melancholy list of grievances, the Jumpses continued to 
 exist, nay, to thrive, from year to year, till, as we shall 
 see, in due time, they had the best farm in the county, 
 and the Jumpses became one of the " first families." 
 
 Guilford observed this very satisfactory account, 
 which it gave them such evident delight to draw, and 
 thought that as it is only necessary to see an evil in 
 order to avoid falling into it ourselves, he himself would 
 do better ; therefore, he continued to hold on steadily to 
 his course. 
 
 But Mr. Jumps seemed to take a peculiar pleasure in 
 making Guilford March work. 
 
 " You have adopted a course, my little fellow," he 
 would say, " and you must stick to it through thick and 
 thin." 
 
 Accordingly, there was little peace or rest for the 
 poor boy, until night came. He began to fancy himself 
 growing dull, like Joram and Toby. The thought hor 
 rified him ; yet all the boys he saw were of the same 
 species. " All work and no play makes Jack a dull 
 boy," sure enough, thought he. 
 
 There were a hundred people in the vicinity two- 
 thirds of them were down w r ith ague or bilious fever. 
 
 The nearest neighbors to Farmer Jumps were the 
 O Gradys. They lived a mile down the creek or run, 
 whose greenish, vegetable color, gave name to this
 
 A GLIMPSE OF SQUATTER LIFE. 121 
 
 neighborhood. They were Irish ; had been in better 
 circumstances, they said, as all old country people, I 
 believe, do say. Whether they descended from the King 
 O Grady I never have learned, but I dare say they did. 
 
 At any rate, their descent was very great, as both 
 husband and wife got drunk, and frightened Guilford 
 more than once with their dreadful oaths and beastly 
 conduct. 
 
 It was some time in December that an incident hap 
 pened in the O Grady family, which, added to what had 
 already been preying upon the sensitive youth s feelings, 
 was the means of his leaving the detestable precincts of 
 Green Hun.* 
 
 * The incident alluded to is a fact that came to the personal know 
 ledge of the writer, on the occasion of a visit he made, in his boyhood ) 
 to the farm of an uncle in a new country. 
 
 An Irishwoman being taken with the pains of childbirth, this writer 
 was mounted on the only horse in the neighborhood, and dispatched to 
 the nearest village, seven miles distant, after a doctor. On my return, 
 the affair was over, and I overheard my uncle and aunt talking about it 
 in the night after all the house had gone to rest. 
 
 It seems that the child survived its birth but a few moments. The 
 husband arose from the bed, where he had been lying in a maudlin 
 Btate s seized the infant from one of the good squatter women attending, 
 and in the midst of profane execrations flung at the head of his wife, he 
 took water, baptized the child with his sacrilegious hand, and tossed it 
 over the back log into the burning fire. 
 
 Of course the author does not pretend to infer, that such evil prac 
 tices are common among the pioneers of the West. Yet it were vain 
 to deny, that brute force, and independence from the restraints of civili 
 zation, develop themselves under revolting forms here and there espe 
 cially among the semi-barbarous elements introduced from foreign shores. 
 
 6
 
 122 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 The terrible event haunted his imagination day and 
 night, and gave a horrible significance to the howling 
 of the wolves. 
 
 He took sudden flight one morning when he had been 
 sent after the cows, without Tobias, w r ho had cut his 
 foot. He left his best suit of clothes behind him, with 
 the secret of his flight, in Susannah s keeping, and 
 appeared before us in the manner already related. 
 
 My mother s plan for curing Guilford of a desire for 
 farm-life had succeeded aided as it was by fortuitous 
 circumstances, of which the good lady never had 
 dreamed. 
 
 " My son, you will go to school to-morrow." 
 
 " Yes, my dear mother, as soon as I have wood 
 enough chopped to last Bowes all day."
 
 THE RIVALS. 123 
 
 CHAPTER XHL 
 
 THE RIVALS. 
 
 It is a fearful thing 
 
 To love as I love thee, to feel the world 
 The bright, the beautiful, joy-giving world 
 
 A blank without thee. 
 
 L. E. L. 
 
 MRS. MARCH was an. ambitions little woman at least 
 for her children. To educate them for the well-doing of 
 their parts in life, to fit them likewise for a better world, 
 and to render them not only useful but agreeable mem 
 bers of society, were grand objects ever before her. 
 No straight-lace philosopher was she. The tree of life 
 was not to be trimmed into an Egyptian pyramid at her 
 hands, but its boughs were to be adorned with things 
 pleasant to behold and sweet to the taste. In a word, 
 Mrs. March s maxims of morality constantly relaxed 
 into the means of present and prospective happiness. 
 In another word, with all her notions of right and wrong, 
 sense and nonsense, she was or rather wished to be 
 as sociable a little lady as the most sociable town the 
 northwest boasted, might be able to produce. 
 
 There were many fine old-fashioned parties at Lilac 
 Cottage, which, by the by, was not ill qualified for such 
 gatherings. A long, wide hall, two large parlors, and
 
 124 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 the library, furnished room enough for the guests to 
 dance to their hearts content. 
 
 It may not be generally known how the houses were 
 furnished in those part French, part Indian, and part 
 American times. 
 
 Behold a pair of huge elk antlers bristling at one end 
 of the hall, and stag antlers at the other. See a long 
 birch bark canoe stretched along the side walk possibly 
 effigies of Indians sit there in full trappings, with red 
 paddles in their hands. Be this last as it may, walk into 
 the parlor and view the portrait of a noble red man 
 who unlike most of us white men had a name of his own, 
 won by manly deeds. The other ornaments of the room 
 may be quivers of arrows, light and graceful snowshoea, 
 marvellous moccasins, painted feather headdresses, and 
 porcupine work. 
 
 The cost of an entertainment in those unfashionable 
 days did not compose, as now, the chief item of boast. A 
 couple of Frenchmen and a negro for fiddlers, set the 
 affair agoing, and people made themselves merry with 
 each other. A haunch of venison, a couple of wild 
 turkeys, Colville apples, sandwiches, and hickory nuts, 
 cake, wine and brandy, formed the simple refreshments. 
 And such smacking of honest lips, and such brimming 
 bumpers to the toast, and such polite toasts with graceful 
 allusions to the next wedding, and such gems of anecdotes 
 and witty sallies, and pealing laughter, in a word such 
 merry men and pretty women never got together and 
 made themselves and each other happy elsewhere in the
 
 THE RIVALS. 125 
 
 world. But then, such a total absence of stiff bows and 
 grand funeral procession entrees, tipping of white-gloved 
 fingers, conceited artists, frothy authors, Munchauseu 
 travellers, after-dinner speech-making parsons, painted 
 belles, eye-glass beaux, honiton frippery and foreign air 
 foppery the absence of these things so essential to a 
 present time soiree, or reception, or at home refined 
 assemblage, causes me to draw back lest I lose caste in 
 describing my dear old friends parties. 
 
 There were no pianos in our city at that time. It was 
 not until several years subsequently that my ears were 
 stunned with the Battle of Prague, or my sensibility 
 blunted by school-girl thumpings of Days of Absence. 
 The first piano created a sensation ; people listened with 
 a mixture of curiosity, wonder, awe, and pleasure ; you 
 might have heard a pin drop. How happy are we now 
 that those fine instruments are best appreciated when 
 silent. That is to say, the crack performer, some corner- 
 loving governess, or professional player, or bashful school- 
 damsel, is requested to play by all the assembly, urged 
 forward, pushed through, and when once seated to her 
 melodious. task, everybody sets up a tempest-roar of talk 
 ing, which drowns the voice of your obliging performer. 
 
 Behold one of our pretty lasses in the antique city 
 called upon for Sweet Home, or other English ballad ; 
 or a twinkling eyed French girl for a merry song of 
 sunny France ; or a bluff Scot for John Anderson my 
 Joe ; or an Irish gentleman for a humorous catch, and 
 everybody for a chorus that was a thing got up to be 
 enjoyed.
 
 126 BHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 But of all things a French wedding was the mos fc 
 celebrated for downright enjoyment. My eyes fill with 
 swimming scenes of mirth as memory recalls one of 
 those joyous occasions. The real fountain of rejuvena 
 tion was a French wedding. Here old people bathec 
 and came out young again. The oldest danced foi 
 dear life, and the gayest and lightest dancer was sure 
 to be some fat and heavy old gentleman, with a no less 
 elderly and sizable partner. They bowed and courtesied 
 with a grace and a joy, they tip-toed it up and down, 
 round and about, pirouetted and coquetted, balanced and 
 swung, cheated and chased, with a vivacity that brought 
 hoary old Time himself into the set as youthful and 
 happy as the rest of them. Such innocent, hearty, and 
 delightful frolics give your bridal couple a fair start in 
 life, though I have little doubt they might startle the 
 soft and gentle votaries of fashion from many an accus 
 tomed nap through a cotillion. But we have no fault to 
 find. Let each enjoy himself in his own way, the hearty 
 heartily the feeble feebly. 
 
 Those were dangerous times for old bachelors, though 
 the less said of such unhappy souls the better. Never 
 theless at the period to which in the course of our 
 history we last arrived, a new admirer of Miss Maud s 
 appeared on the field, a veritable, ancient bachelor, one 
 of the most glorious specimens of that worthy class. 
 
 Major Fontenoy was an officer of our army in the late 
 war. He had been stationed in different parts of the 
 country, but having seen Detroit he was serving in the 
 unfortunate Hull expedition had fallen in love with
 
 THE RIVALS. 127 
 
 her. Ten years after the war closed he resigned his 
 commission and came to be one of her children. The 
 major was fond of young people. He had long known 
 Miss Maud, but as she always avoided notice, he never 
 found it worth his while to be struck with her charms 
 until now. On this occasion he attended one of our 
 little evening parties, and as he entered the room, Maud 
 sat at a species of dulcimer, singing some sweet ballad 
 of olden time. Her long blonde ringlets waved down 
 her shoulders in cloud-like drapery. But when she 
 turned, on the conclusion of the music, the major never 
 saw such eyes before in fact 
 
 " Then was Juno herself disguised as Diana, hey ?" 
 he said. 
 
 You already perceive that the major was a man of 
 sentiment. The major was enchanted with the gentle 
 Maud. 
 
 Bear with me, fond hearted reader : for I have not 
 only lovers on my hands behold here a rival to the 
 forlorn Allen Magroy. And such a rival ! Our pro 
 gress grows more perplexing. How may I please the 
 eye of beauty beaming down upon this page ? Picture 
 to thyself an Adonis worthy to compete with Allen, an 
 Achilles entering the lists against the youthful Paris. 
 Tall, straight, with flowing locks, smooth face the 
 moustache movement not yet announced eyes of 
 majesty, lips of burning coal. 
 
 Is that the model lover ? 
 
 Or shall we shadow forth a reserved gracious soul of
 
 128 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 goodness who never does or says anything inconsistent 
 witli classic repose, or at any other time than the right 
 moment no impulse, no carelessness like Allen s all 
 strength tinder reason, and all passion under ice. 
 
 Is that thy beau ideal, beauteous Clarissa ? 
 
 Alas ! the major was gallantry itself. He had fought 
 the British to the cannon s mouth at Chippewa, where 
 he lost a hand ; and in various hotly contested Indian 
 battles Major Fontenoy was seen holding his snuff-box 
 in the crook of the handless arm, and taking snuff 
 coolly while he issued his orders. Yet is he no such 
 Adonis, Achilles, or John Humphreys as thou hast 
 fancied. 
 
 The major, as we see, was decrepit by the loss of his 
 hand, and moreover, the major was slightly bent at the 
 shoulders. Yet though no model, the best of men in 
 many respects was he, as we shall prove in the course 
 of this story. He took great notice of Maud that 
 night. Thank the stars ! Allen was not there, for the 
 artless Maud received everybody graciously, especially 
 at home, nor dreamed of coqueting. The major was 
 odd and amusing, and like many fine gentlemen of that 
 day, he was a very agreeable talker, and had something 
 to say other than investments, road stocks, and opera 
 tragedies performed behind the scenes patent leather 
 boots, curling-tongs, and cosmetics. He could turn a 
 compliment so you never knew it was a compliment, till 
 you went to bed. He could tell an anecdote without 
 boring you : he could hand you a glass of water with-
 
 THE RIVALS. 129 
 
 out spilling it on jour dress, and I defy a Fifth Avenue 
 beau to do either. The poor major was innocent of 
 small canes, banditti hats, tight breeches, the Jenny 
 Lind entree, an article in anybody s magazine, or a 
 mysterious intrigue d* amour / and yet he was the most 
 perfect gentleman I ever saw. So I fancy he will not 
 be a favorite with the one or two of my city friends, 
 but for the life of me I cannot help it such was the 
 backward state of those times. With the dear sex, as 
 God, nature and their excellent mothers have made 
 them, I feel sanguine that the major will not be very 
 despicable, whatever may be his fortunes with the fair 
 Maud. 
 
 On the following morning, and on every Sunday 
 morning thereafter, Maud received the most exquisite 
 of "bouquets. That was no indelicate reminder of the 
 existence of Major Fontenoy. Moreover, there could 
 be no fine cameo, or other beautiful article of art- 
 jewelry heard of, but what it must be sent to Maud 
 name of the giver unknown, and no excuse to return 
 it : besides really the major had known us all for years, 
 was considered as an oddity above and beyond design, 
 who lived but for his fancies, in short, a rich old bache 
 lor, with no wish but to be on polite terms with every 
 body, who would have his little humors gratified, but 
 was considered too old, too lame, too much of a general 
 favorite, to marry. And so there was no such thing 
 ever thought of as making war upon him by the un 
 necessary display of squeamishness, as returning gifts 
 "from an unknown " giver would appear to be.
 
 130 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 That the giver was known, and that after the beam 
 of joy on the sight of his beautiful presents, came a 
 shade of perplexity and doubt on the brow of Maud, is 
 not to be denied. Place yourself in her shoes, prudish 
 one, and reflect well ere you condemn her. The major 
 had the touch of Midas. He never made a purchase 
 of lands on military or Indian reserves when the same 
 came into market, but that it was sure to be the site of 
 some future Troy. 
 
 "With M. Latrobe and the major for frequent guests, 
 our evenings stole pleasantly away. My dear mother, 
 however, began to find that her severe labors were 
 undermining her health. She was advised to abandon 
 sewing, and take boarders. The town was growing 
 rapidly, and alas ! changing its features. The steam 
 boat experiment on the lakes had proved successful, 
 and emigrants were rushing into the State, some settling 
 down among us. Tall brick stores began to rise, and 
 tower over their humble, droll, decaying neighbors with 
 old fashioned Yandyke hats. Merchants with dandi 
 fied clerks, lawyers with their sharp practices, landlords 
 with their new devices, such as chamber-bells, dinner 
 gongs, and boat-runners, were growing rich in our 
 midst. Out of so many new comers it was easy to fill 
 the cottage with pleasant sometimes unpleasant 
 people. The library, however, continued to be the 
 same sweet spot as before, sacred from lodgers intru 
 sion. M. Latrobe himself sat at the head of the table. 
 The major, out of motives of sentiment, did not like to 
 become a boarder with Maud s mother.
 
 THE RIVALS. 131 
 
 Meantime let us not forget Allen. After dangling 
 around home listlessly a year or so after the change 
 came between his father and Maud, he determined to 
 study law. This he commenced doing in his indolent 
 manner, with his heels perched upon the stove in 
 winter, and on the window-sill in summer, and his 
 thoughts wandering no matter where. 
 
 After a year had elapsed, an event happened which 
 set his blood in motion. His mother had died. Yes, 
 she, the dust hater, who had been born with a duster 
 in her hand, actually turned to dust herself. Old Mr. 
 Magroy became gruffer than ever, growled to the slip 
 shod servants, snapped at the one-eyed housekeeper on 
 all occasions, and so opposed was his idle son to all his 
 mathematical, classical, and geographical ideas, that he 
 lost all manner of patience with him. 
 
 The scholarly old gentleman himself fished in the 
 mazy streams of the law, in order to test the advance 
 of his son in those studies. Of course Allen was defi 
 cient. His father s wrath doubtless became great in 
 proportion to the trouble self-imposed ; but he kept it 
 smothered until an event happened in another quarter. 
 
 Sitting in the doorway of the kennel, with his nose 
 alert, he smelt out mischief. Notwithstanding his very 
 reasonable order to Allen with reference to Maud, 
 he saw that young lounger one day crossing over the 
 avenue to accost the lady of his love. He saw him 
 speak to her, join her, walk by her side towards home. 
 He saw that Maud hurried her footsteps that she
 
 132 SHOEPAO RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 seemed to wish to be left to pursue her pathway alone, 
 that she dropped her veil, and said little. 
 
 "The crafty little cheat!" Mr. Magroy exclaimed. 
 " She thinks to impose on Archibald Magroy, does she ? 
 I ll dissemble her !" 
 
 Allen was soon seen returning pensively towards 
 home. As he re-crossed the avenue, and drew near the 
 little plum orchard, a rap was heard on the floor of his 
 father s office. The angry voice of Mr. Magroy called 
 out: 
 
 "Allen ! come hither, sir !" 
 
 The door closed upon the two. Mr. Magroy was too 
 deeply agitated for many words. He raised his cane, 
 and poised it over the shoulder of the sad delinquent. 
 
 "Father, you must not will not, strike me?" His 
 last words were soft and imploring. 
 
 " You have disobeyed orders sir !" shouted the 
 enraged government officer. "Is this the first time I 
 have seen thee with that flaxen-haired wench? Nay, 
 I ll have no more of it. The little pox of deception she 
 is !" continued the Greek exegist. 
 
 " Stay father ! Listen to reason," said Allen. 
 
 Mr. Magroy paused, and brought the cane down upon 
 the floor. 
 
 " That girl is goodness, purity, truthfulness itself" 
 
 The cane rose again. 
 
 " I ll send ye adrift o er the four corners of the globe, 
 an ye dare dispute with me !" shouted the geo 
 grapher.
 
 THE RIVALS. 133 
 
 Allen was strong, and a lad of twenty. He caught 
 the blow ere it reached its destination. 
 
 " Father, will you force me to leave your roof?" 
 
 Again the rod rose high in air. The blow descended. 
 And the boy went forth a man ; even as the boy David 
 was driven from the presence of Saul a king ! a king ! 
 
 Now it was that Allen took up Blackstone with 
 earnest purpose. The prospect of a wealthy inheritance 
 fell from his shoulders as a camel s load. The desert 
 before him, and he free ! It was necessary, however, to 
 earn his way. He hung out a modest little sign, with 
 his name in white letters, and " copyist" below for 
 there was not sufficient writing of the legal sort to pay 
 for his office hire, wood, lights, and daily maintenance. 
 He advertised that he would write letters for the 
 unlearned. Many a letter he wrote for nothing. Yet 
 few went by his door bearing fruit, that he did not reap 
 a gleaning joyfully given by the happy poor ; for the 
 poor are grateful. Their confidence in Allen was 
 unbounded. His popularity came on in its own good 
 time ; for the fruit of earnest endeavors and good deeds 
 is general good-will. Allen could turn a ready hand to 
 anything. Gladly would he take the place of sick or 
 absent tradesman s clerk, an event profitable to the good 
 shopman, as it was always marked by notable acces 
 sions of customers. Was there a prompt hand, a saga 
 cious mind, an honest heart needed in an emergency, 
 too difficult for clerk, and not great enough for Lawyer 
 Floury or Counsellor O Mar , Allen was your man.
 
 184 8HOBPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 In short, the young scrivener was ready to do anything, 
 at a moment s warning, even down to driving a French 
 cart, or writing a negro love-letter. Thus brought in 
 contact with the actualities of life, thus kept on the 
 alert, his intellect sharpened, and his moral sensibilities 
 were quickened. His sympathies every day found new 
 channels. His successes buoyed him above the fre 
 quent pinchings of want, and gave him occasional 
 glimpses of the better land which lies beyond the 
 desert and the river. He saw life in new aspects. He 
 regarded himself, his father, Maud, and the world, 
 in a changed position. 
 
 Poor Maud ! what was she to do ? Her lover was his 
 own master. With zeal he re-plead his cause, and 
 pointed confidently to the future. Maud listened with 
 a beating heart. Hope, long a stranger, or, with the 
 young outcast a pilgrim, threw away his staff, joyfully 
 plunged into the glowing bath-chambers of green 
 Damascus, and came out full of aerial visions. 
 
 Yet the father s stern forbidding hung over the trans 
 ported lovers like a cloud, and, in Maud s tender soul, 
 grew from a speck to the size of a man s hand, and from 
 that, covered the sky. She sought counsel from her 
 mother. 
 
 Mrs. March spake little, though kindly, to her. 
 
 " I would not influence you, my daughter, in so deli 
 cate, yet important a conjuncture. I would rather 
 leave you free to the guidance of your own conscience 
 and good sense."
 
 THE RIVALS. 135 
 
 The word " conscience " pointed Maud to the diffi 
 cult, narrow way, the straight road. She went forth 
 from her morning prayers, next day, sadder, yet calmer. 
 
 Allen Magroy met her as usual on the path to 
 school. 
 
 The accustomed greetings were exchanged perhaps, 
 on the side of Maud, with even more than the accus 
 tomed warmth. There was a sorrowful ardor in her 
 
 
 
 looks, whenever she turned them upon the proud- 
 bearing young gallant at her side. Even suffering had 
 not deprived Allen of his dashing ease of manner ; and 
 fine address is not lost on woman tis no little of the 
 divinity she attributes to her hero. Allen wore his 
 hair long, as was the manner of the day ; his black 
 locks were worthy a knight of romance ; he had, more 
 over, made a vow silly fellow ! on leaving the pater 
 nal mansion, with the world before him, not to shear 
 his hair until his father, proud of his success, should 
 forgive him. That was a rash, boyish vow ; and in the 
 clearer light of a better reason, his long hair hung 
 around him, a real covering of humility. As the two 
 walked over the green grass now, a stranger might 
 point to them and exclaim 
 
 " There go the pride and beauty of the village ?" 
 Strangers would call our little city a village. 
 Yet Maud, in her untrained ringlets, simple French 
 straw hat, and plain attire, and Allen, in his poor 
 apparel, might almost pass for rustics, were it not for 
 their graceful, elastic movements. My pen ! what hast
 
 136 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 thou done ? Thy hero and heroine are atrociously, 
 unpardonably stainless ! 
 
 Tis time, at length, for Maud to speak, for the quick 
 eye of love has detected strangeness in her look and 
 manner, and argued ill as love always does, when not 
 inflated by vanity. 
 
 " Allen, had I any lot or portion in the anger of your 
 father?" 
 
 "*Why, Maud ! you have asked me almost as much, 
 many times." 
 
 " JN"OW I must know, Allen." 
 
 The truthful fellow could not though how fain he 
 would ! deny it. 
 
 " So I feared, so I thought. You will understand me, 
 dear Allen ; but I owe you something, and myself 
 something painful, oh ! how painful ; yet it must be 
 heeded." 
 
 " My timid bird," replied Allen, " I know what you 
 would say ; yet listen : I feel myself my own master. 
 I am my own master!" he added with energy, "in 
 sight of heaven and earth ! and if with you, my old, my 
 only appreciating heart, I choose to go, it is my 
 right." 
 
 " But what is my duty ?" asked Maud. 
 
 "You are not responsible it is my own act," "he 
 quickly rejoined. 
 
 " Yet, liave I my duty to perform," said she, " to 
 myself, to my mother, to you, dear Allen?" and 
 she laid her hand upon his arm, but for a moment;
 
 THE RIVALS. 137 
 
 " nay, even to your father, however violent and unrea 
 sonable he may be ? I must not keep enmity between 
 him and you." 
 
 Allen s impatience was irrepressible. 
 
 Maud continued, with calmness, not unbroken by 
 tearful emotion. 
 
 " You have been rudely thrown upon yourself. It 
 will, it must be, the making of you. Your talents, and 
 all your natural goodness of heart, must soon appear. 
 To continue your intimacy with me, under the ban of 
 your father s displeasure, will lower you in your own 
 respect, and impede your progress upward all through 
 life. 
 
 " You see, Allen," she said, with a sweet, soft, half- 
 sad, smile, " what great things I hope for my dearest 
 friend." 
 
 " Just as you deliberately abandon him," said he, 
 with bitterness. 
 
 Maud trembled at all she had said ; and perhaps, too, 
 the idea of actually giving him up, or rather thus sud 
 denly crushing the idol which had lain on her heart s 
 altar so long, and now lay at her feet, did not diminish 
 her self-distrust. Yet her sense of duty was not 
 unshaken, and her resolution only in danger for a 
 moment. She knew not what more to say. 
 
 "Well," said Allen, "I will not persecute you. I 
 will go." 
 
 Maud looked up at him half-reproachfully, half-sur 
 prised.
 
 138 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 A gleain of honest pride, a whole beam of new light 
 broke from his face. 
 
 " I think I begin to see both you and myself in a 
 new sense, dear Maud; indeed, I have thought of it 
 before." 
 
 The tears began to glisten through his troubled coun 
 tenance, even as the stars break through the dark 
 clouds. 
 
 " But you must not cast me from you at once. Help 
 me to become the the angel that you are no, I 
 mean help me to see things more clearly, as you do, 
 and"- 
 
 " You must look to God for guidance," said she, in a 
 tremulous voice. " There is sufficient spirit of right in 
 every heart, I believe Allen, to guide us, if we will only 
 place it in His hands." 
 
 This was a subject a little beyond Allen Magroy. 
 For a moment his brow grew dark again. He reviewed 
 his career hastily, though religiously, and even the light 
 of an honest, noble nature did not serve to cleave through 
 its gloom. Then he looked forward, hope, love, duty, 
 even prospective greatness, dawned upon him as through 
 a glass darkly. 
 
 Maud watched his fine features, and with pleasure saw 
 the cloud clear away. 
 
 "I will leave you_Maud, now, my, ray" 
 
 " Sister," whispered Maud. 
 
 " Sister," echoed the young man. " Only let there be 
 no quarrel between thee and me."
 
 THE RIVALS. 139 
 
 " Oil no ! never,"ej actuated Maud, " you know me to 
 well for that." 
 
 " Good-bye, Maud !" 
 
 "Good-bye, Allen!" 
 
 He was gone ! 
 
 The girl dropped her veil over her troubled face to 
 hide the tears that she did not care to restrain. To go 
 into the school-room that morning was impossible. She 
 turned her steps homeward. And soon the mother, 
 whose teachings and whose prayers had been the divine 
 medium of illuminating the arches of that little temple 
 of the living God, thanked Him that her daughter had 
 withstood in the hour of temptation.
 
 14:0 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 FATHER AND SON. 
 
 Rightly to be great 
 
 la not to stir without great argument ; 
 But greatly to find quarrel In a straw, 
 
 When honor s at the stake. 
 
 HAMLET. 
 
 GREAT and manifest was the tribulation and wrath of 
 Mr. Archibald Magroy on the departure of his son and 
 heir from the family mansion. His first measure was to 
 change his will. That Allen was cut off with a shilling 
 no one doubted. But to whom Mr. Magroy s large estates 
 were to fall, no one besides himself and his lawyer, Coun 
 sellor O Mar, was presumed to know. The sagacious 
 housekeeper, Mrs. Polyphemia Fidgets was not without 
 her shrewd conjectures, and the note-worthy change in 
 the domestic administration of the establishment, as well 
 as in the personal attire of the tall, prim dame, gave rise 
 to gossip but what right have people to their gossip ? 
 
 Old Growl grew more sullen, more watchful, more 
 wrathful. His descent on schools became, though few 
 and far between, as unlike angels visits as possible to 
 conceive. He did not hesitate to propose to the trustees 
 that Greek should be taught by means of grammars
 
 FATHER AND SON. 141 
 
 written in Latin, and vice versa. The boys were amazed 
 and frightened. Dr. Oliphant had too much good 
 sense. 
 
 " For," quoth he, " learning language is like visiting 
 a foreign country. "Wherefore, most learned doctor of 
 the laws of whom by the way, Dr. Olihpant strangely 
 stood in no manner of fear it is my humble opinion 
 that to think in one language, and to translate your 
 thoughts into a second, in order to learn the mysteries 
 of a third, would be like travelling over Europe with 
 the map of Africa in your hand, to make you acquainted 
 with the peculiarities of Asia !" 
 
 Whereupon Mr. Magroy retired to the shades of the 
 kennel, and the same day appeared a placard at the 
 gate of the plum orchard. 
 
 ARCHIBALD MAGROY, L. L. D. 
 
 WILL TAKE A FEW WELL BEHAVED YOUTHS TO INSTRUCT IN GREEK 
 AND LATIN. 
 
 TERMS GRATIS. 
 
 Benevolent gentleman ! a philanthropic hobby to 
 ride ! Dash the rowels of thy spurs deep into the flanks 
 of thy Pegasus, or the world will escape thee with 
 all its woeful ignorance ! 
 
 Strange ingratitude ! no aspiring youths were known 
 to present themselves at this free and newly opened 
 fountain of classic literature. Lads preferred the odd 
 whiskered Dr. Oliphant.
 
 142 SHOEPAC KECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Astonished at the blindness and folly of the juvenile 
 world, the bread which Mr. Magroy had cast upon the 
 waters returned to his own heart. Bis eyes beamed 
 once more upon his son. 
 
 Allen had at length entered the office of Attorney 
 Floury, who furnished him sufficient writing for daily 
 necessities, and the student was giving now his whole 
 time and energies to the Law. 
 
 One day, while his senior was at court, Allen sat 
 leaning over the desk his mind lost in the perplexing, 
 and useless, intricacies of the famous Chitty how happy 
 would he have been to make the better acquaintance of 
 the clear, concise, and common-sense, Stephens ! 
 
 Startled by a loud, sharp rap at the door, he turned 
 and beheld his father with his cane. 
 
 " Allen Magroy !" 
 
 " My dear father !" 
 
 " Are you doing well, sir ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, I shall soon be ready for examination. Be 
 seated, father." 
 
 The face of Allen Magroy was suffused with pleasure. 
 The old man took the proffered chair, and planted his 
 cane with his two hands before him. 
 
 " Have you repented, sir ?" 
 
 " Kepented of what, father ?" 
 
 "Repented of what? you rebellious young run-a 
 gate ! Of leaving the roof where you were cradled " 
 possibly, the old gentleman referred to the " tree tops," 
 famous in nursery song " of following after that pest
 
 FATHER AND SON. 143 
 
 of a Maud March ; of of of bringing your father s 
 grey hairs in sorrow to the grave, sir!" 
 
 Each sentence of this affectionate address was empha 
 sized by Mr. Magroy s cane-ferule 011 the floor. 
 
 For such an outbreak the young man was not pre 
 pared. A hope had suddenly, violently, been crushed. 
 It was with difficulty he could speak. 
 
 " Father, I would not reproach you ; but what ever 
 can account for this misunderstanding ?" 
 
 "Misunderstanding!" echoed the old gentleman, sav 
 agely. 
 
 " "What can account for it ?" continued Allen, " but a 
 want of knowledge, an absence of sympathy between 
 your heart and mine ? Could I but hope to clear up this 
 cloud, could I but dare to unfold my views, my heart, 
 my wishes, my whole being, changed, though trampled 
 upon as I have been, I would thank, oh I how I would 
 thank, the great, good God!" 
 
 Allen s hands were clasped together ; his look was 
 agony. 
 
 "God knows! God knows," he cried tenderly, "I 
 would not embitter your earthly days." 
 
 " Then, sir," spoke Mr. Magroy, softly, " you have 
 repented your rashness, you will obey me?" 
 
 "Dear father," replied Allen, "you see things in so 
 different a light. The young lady whom you despise is 
 my benefactress, you yourself once smiled upon. Why, 
 sir, she is as much superior to Allen Magroy as an angel 
 of light to mortal man may be. Look, father ! I seem
 
 144 SHOEPAC KECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 to myself to live and move in a new world, since, driven 
 from your roof, I took refuge near her. She repelled 
 me ; she would not, angel as she is, stand between your 
 heart and mine. And, sir, if I ever become a man," 
 continued Allen, rising proudly from his chair, "if I 
 ever become a man, whom you and the world may 
 deign to notice as a man, it will be owing to that girl !" 
 
 " < Will be, Allen ; beware, my lad." 
 
 " Yes, sir !" repeated the excited soul, bursting nobly 
 from his lips. " Yes, sir ! will be ! for no power on 
 earth can destroy immortal seed once planted. And, 
 sir! whatever may betide come sorrow, come wrath, 
 come destruction itself I feel my soul wedded to that 
 of Maud March." 
 
 " The shaggy forehead of Mr. Magroy grew black as 
 the pine forest beneath a thunder-cloud. For a moment 
 his mind seemed wandering. His vision had a far-off, 
 far-down look, as if dreaming over the lost and scattered 
 Past. His frame shook convulsively. But, as if by a 
 mighty effort, he regained his accustomed look, and 
 Purpose resumed its sway. 
 
 " I tell thee, lad, thou rt crazy ; the daughter of a 
 seamstress, a washerwoman ;" again that lost look and 
 convulsive manner. 
 
 " Father, are there such cobweb figments here as 
 castes in society ? No, sir ! "Where lies respectability ? 
 in blood, property, position? No, sir! Is it in rich 
 apparel, luxurious living, coats of arms ? No, sir ! The 
 pride of life consists not in ancient heritage, but in vir-
 
 FATHER AND SON. 145 
 
 tue and success. Any pure and refined maiden is the 
 equal of the noblest born heir in the land. Is it not so, 
 father?" 
 
 " Go on, sir ! go on," was muttered from some un 
 known thunder region. 
 
 " "Why do old men forget the past ?" exclaimed Allen, 
 " as if they never struggled never knew the consoling- 
 sweets of precious truth, of hope shining from hill-tops, 
 of pure natures exalting them to the skies." 
 
 " To debase them down to hell !" now burst from the 
 lips of Mr. Magroy, with a gleam of lightning from the 
 dark pine forest about his eyes. 
 
 Allen started back, lost in amazement. There seemed 
 to be some hidden mystery, some mighty secret, on the 
 eve of explosion. He waited with awe for his father to 
 go on. Mr. Magroy was silent. 
 
 Allen, after waiting a while, patiently and respect 
 fully resumed : 
 
 " I did not dare hope to convert you, father, to my 
 views." 
 
 Call it prejudice, or the power of experience, but one 
 might as well attempt to turn back the current of the 
 long and deep-rolling Mississippi as the channel of an 
 old man s thoughts. But this was not in Allen s mind ; 
 he did hope that his father would view life as he would 
 have him ; he did dare try to convert him. Soon his 
 hope went out ; his boldness forsook him. Mr. Magroy 
 suddenly stamped with foot and cane impatiently, and 
 cried 
 
 7
 
 146 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 "Moonshine! stuff! "Will you come back, Allen? 
 Do YOU repent the wrongs you have heaped upon your 
 father, sir 2" 
 
 "If," answered Allen, thoughtfully and earnestly, 
 "if to repent, means contrition for provoking your 
 anger, I do sincerely repent ; if it means regret for what 
 has passed between me and Miss March, I can, I do, 
 pray your forgiveness, while yet I bless the hours 
 spent with that superior soul." 
 
 Mr. Magroy chose to contain himself no longer. 
 Springing from the chair, on which he had been sitting 
 uneasily during the harangue of his enthusiastic son, 
 and shaking his cane in the face of Allen, he ex 
 claimed 
 
 " I will make you repent it, sir yes sir, in dust and 
 ashes. I will humble you to the earth ! you perverse, 
 unworthy descendant of an honorable family ! I have 
 already cut you off from my will, sir. I will do more ; 
 you shall find me an enemy wherever you are, w r hen you 
 rise up or sit down, go or come, my curse shall follow 
 you, and after I die my ghost shall haunt you." 
 
 Mr. Magroy turned to go. Then suddenly coming 
 back, he cried : 
 
 "Those Marches, whom you have chosen for your 
 gods, let them reign over you ; but they are not beyond 
 my reach, mark that, Allen, mark that !" 
 
 He left the office, punching each step of the stair 
 way as he descended, and muttering to himself threats 
 of vengeance on the Marches.
 
 FATHER AND SON. 147 
 
 Poor Allen ! How lie paced the floor ! The words 
 his father had just uttered sank deeply in his heart. His 
 mind reverted to the past. It was with bitterness that 
 he felt the truth, that parents bring children into the 
 world, and owe them something for the very act. Not 
 neglect, not tyranny, persecution, destruction ; but care, 
 sympathy, a gentle hand to guide, a soft voice to coun 
 sel, and not till these fail the rod. But his father 
 had forced him into rebellion, and but this moment 
 had come, gone, and left a curse behind him. 
 
 To Maud, to whom he owed everything worth 
 prizing, he could no longer look for consolation. Even 
 she seemed to turn from him. There the curse of his 
 father had already commenced. Then he thought of his 
 father s threat towards the March family. This urged 
 his feelings into a new channel, and called for action. 
 What his father meant was beyond his knowledge. He 
 sat down, and addressed a note to Maud. It did not 
 suit. He tore it to pieces, and wrote a second, which 
 he flung into the fire. A third was not without excep 
 tions so captious are lovers, even in the plainest mat 
 ters yet he thought well enough of it to put it in his 
 hat, to leave at the door of Lilac Cottage.
 
 148 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTION 
 
 CHAPTEE XY. 
 
 CLOUDS. 
 
 They did not know how hate can burn 
 In hearts once changed from soft to stern. 
 
 BTROS. 
 
 IT was a night of more than ordinary cheerfulness. 
 The return of Guilford on the previous evening lent an 
 additional brightness to the ruddy glow of the library 
 fire. A knock was heard at the front door. Bowes came 
 in with a letter, which she said, looking away, was for 
 Maud. Allen Magroy had left it, without any message. 
 Maud blushed and turned quite pale, as Mrs. March 
 handed the letter to her daughter. 
 
 " Perhaps you would like to read it alone, my child ?" 
 
 Maud retired, taking a light. 
 
 She was not gone a moment, but returned, and handed 
 the opened letter to her mother. It was as follows : 
 
 " DEAR MAUD, 
 
 " You must, you will pardon me for writing, when you learn 
 what I have to communicate. My father visited me this afternoon. I 
 will not particularize what took place ; but in going away he used 
 threatening language concerning your mother s family. He never 
 threatens in vain. But I don t know what it can be. My heart is wrung
 
 CLOUDS. 149 
 
 at the thought that I am so completely in the dark and powerless to 
 befriend. But you must tell your mother to be on her guard. 
 
 " ALLEN MAGROY." 
 
 This epistle of course threw us into some consterna 
 tion. Mrs. March alone maintained her calmness. 
 Mabel declared that Mr. Magroy meant to burn the 
 house down, and loud were her lamentations that her 
 father was not at home to rescue us from destruction. 
 M. Latrobe had gone to New York, with the expectation 
 of sailing for London on business for the company, and 
 probably had left ere this. Maud was silent and pale. 
 Guilford said he saw no way in which Mr. Magroy 
 could injure us. 
 
 " We are in a free country, and the law will protect 
 us, mother." 
 
 Guilford thought highly of the power and justice of 
 the law, on account of the experience he had enjoyed 
 in witnessing a case in court, already hinted at in John 
 March s letter. Mrs. March thought some terrible 
 calamity might be impending over the head of her 
 daughter, the innocent cause of the unfortunate quarrel 
 between father and son ; but she wisely kept her own 
 counsel. At this conjuncture in our affairs how tear 
 fully the widow thought of her husband, their natural 
 protector. But was he not watching, and was there 
 not a yet more powerful friend, even the widow s God? 
 At last Mrs. March spoke. 
 
 " Whatever this danger may be, my children, I feel
 
 150 BHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 assured in my own heart that God will provide a way 
 of escape." 
 
 She took down the family Bible, and read the 9lst 
 Psalm. "With what sweet hope and gentle reassurance 
 the family arose after evening worship and retired tc 
 their beds ! 
 
 Such is Religion s soothing balm. 
 
 The period for the third annual payment on the 
 house was now rapidly approaching. We had not found 
 our creditor a hard man. The day had passed by in 
 both previous years without the money being demanded, 
 and Mrs. March had been allowed to take her own time. 
 This year was a difficult one for householders, provisions 
 were never known so high, and the number of our 
 boarders (our only pecuniary resource) had diminished. 
 Mrs. March expected daily to hear some dread news on 
 account of the warning Allen had given. But it seemed 
 as if either the youth was mistaken, or that his father 
 had changed his humor, for weeks passed without 
 calamity, and the fear of it at first so appalling, gradu 
 ally died away. Meantime we were all making strenu 
 ous efforts to increase the lis*- ">f our boarders, to reduce 
 still more our slender expenses, and by careful economy 
 to lay up money for the payment. The event, however, 
 seemed doubtful. The times grew harder, and we were 
 drawing on what had already been saved and laid by. 
 The first day of the last quarter came, and with it 
 another note from Allen :
 
 CLOUDS. 151 
 
 " DEAR MAUD : 
 
 " I have just learned from Mr. Floury that my father has pur 
 chased the remaining unpaid portion on the bill of sale of your mother s 
 house. What his object may be I dare not conjecture. Pardon me for 
 presuming to advise that if Mrs. March only meets the payments 
 promptly, as they fall due, there can be no trouble. Hoping I am not 
 destined to be the herald of further exciting news, I remain 
 
 " ALLEN MAGROY." 
 
 This was frightful enough, yet Mrs. March, while not 
 despairing of making the next payment in time, felt 
 some relief in the fact that Mr. Magroy seemed to direct 
 his malice against her rather than Maud. 
 
 " After all," she said, " it may be a mere matter of 
 business between Mr. Articles and Mr. Magroy." The 
 former was the gentleman in whose hands the property 
 had fallen at my father s decease, and from whom Mrs. 
 March had made the purchase. 
 
 Every sinew was now strained to meet the approach 
 ing liability. With no little reluctance on the part of 
 Mrs. March, Maud, Guilford, and myself were with 
 drawn from our schools to save the expense of tuition. 
 Mabel declared she would not go either, but insisted 
 on reciting to Maud, and turning her school expenses 
 into the family fund. It was to no purpose that we all 
 protested. Mabel would have her way. And Maud 
 became our instructress for the nonce. 
 
 Payment day came. It seemed to my imaginative 
 soul that we were on the eve of some grand catastrophe, 
 that the world was to be in some sudden manner
 
 152 SHOE P AC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 changed, to us at least, for I knew very well that the 
 filthy lucre was not forthcoming. And to think of 
 Mr. Magroy ! I represented him to Mabel as a bloody- 
 minded Shylock. After breakfast my mother went 
 down the avenue. She did not return till the dinner 
 hour. It was easy to see that she was disappointed. 
 Her excellent old friend Casher Coiner could have 
 helped her to ten times the amount at any other time, 
 but now the year was just closing, and the bank 
 directors had given orders that not a dollar should be 
 discounted until they saw how the affairs of the institu 
 tion stood, and whether it would be likely to weather 
 the currency storm just beginning to rage over the 
 country. She had applied to several of her friends 
 among the merchants, but with little better suc 
 cess. 
 
 In the afternoon she put on her widows cap, black 
 bonnet and shawl, and neat plain collar, and again 
 went out. Soon reaching the house of Mr. Magroy she 
 tremulously raised the brass knocker at the door. Dame 
 Polly Fidgets appeared, dressed in silk. 
 " Is your master at home, Mrs. Fidgets 2" 
 "I d like to know who you call my master, mam. 
 
 I m as good as any wash 
 
 " I beg your pardon. Is Mr. Magroy at home ?" 
 "Well, I ll see," said the ruffled hen partridge, smooth 
 ing her feathers with an ill grace. 
 
 Mrs. March was left standing on the door-sill, while 
 the dame was gone. Her heart palpitated violently,
 
 CLOUDS. 153 
 
 and in spite of herself already augured an unfavorable 
 termination to her mission. 
 
 " This way, ma am. Mr. Magroy will see you in his 
 office." 
 
 " Have you come on business, ma am?" My mother 
 made no reply. 
 
 "Worthy Dame Fidgets did not leave the door which 
 opened from the house into the office, but anxious for 
 her prospects, and fearful that a reconciliation might be 
 effected between her master and the Marches, and 
 thereby lead to the return of the disinherited son, she 
 applied her ear to the keyhole. 
 
 " You wish to see me, madarn," growled the deep 
 voice of the gentlemanly proprietor of the mansion, who, 
 from some unknown cause did not raise his face towards 
 the lady. 
 
 u Yes, sir," said my mother, summoning all the com 
 posure she could command. 
 
 " There is a chair," spoke again the voice. 
 
 Mrs. March sat down, or rather sank down, in silence, 
 which she at length interrupted with difficulty. 
 
 " Mr. Magroy, there has been some trouble between 
 yourself and Allen, in which, by some unintentional 
 circumstance or act perhaps of" Mr. Magroy sud 
 denly sat erect. 
 
 " Is this your business, madam ?" 
 
 Such rudeness in his speech ! his looks ! his whole 
 manner, aroused all the pride of character of Mrs. 
 March.
 
 154: 8HOKPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " No, sir !" said she rising with dignity and coloring 
 highly. " It was my desire to remove any misunder 
 standing that might exist between us as neighbors. 
 But since you have so rudely repulsed me at the 
 threshold I will bid that intention go, as best it may, 
 conscious, sir, of the innocence of me and of mine." 
 
 " Oh yes, Mi s. March, neither you nor your fair 
 daughter are capable of womanly designs on young 
 gentlemen above yourselves in the world. Women 
 never are !" 
 
 " No gentleman no one but a coward, sir ! would 
 thus insult a defenceless woman." 
 
 " Do you come to beard me, woman?" he yelled forth 
 with such frenzy as to shake the door at which Mrs. 
 Fidget s ear was pinned, so as to shake that honest 
 woman from head to foot but with delight at the 
 cheering course of events. 
 
 A retort rose to the tongue of my mother, but she 
 remembered the cry of the little ravens in the home 
 nest, and she shrank back likewise from the vulgar war 
 of words, so suddenly and unexpectedly raised. She 
 had expected no such reception, and with bitterness she 
 remembered that this same insolent man had been 
 under no small obligation to her husband in their early 
 business life. Nay, more, she might have recalled the 
 time, further back, when the young Scot conferred 
 upon her the honor of his marked attentions. All this 
 flashed through her oppressed and outraged soul, and 
 left an almost lightning scathe. Then she remembered
 
 CLOUDS. 155 
 
 the words of the Psalmist, " I will rebuke kings for thy 
 sake," and quietly resolved to leave the widow s cause 
 with the widow s God. 
 
 She advanced to the table at which Mr. Magroy was 
 sitting, and laid upon it a package of money. 
 
 " Payment on the house, hem ! Let me see," said he, 
 " how much is due." The dissembler ! had he not been 
 feasting his eye on the little note all day. 
 
 "Three hundred dollars!" 
 
 My mother kept silence as he then proceeded to count 
 the bills. 
 
 " Here are but two hundred." 
 
 " Yes sir ! I thought that if convenient to you" my 
 poor mother paused. To beg any favor of this creature 
 was too humiliating. Then she endeavored to look upon 
 it as a matter of business and went on, under the scowl 
 of her creditor. 
 
 " If as convenient to you, sir, a few days delay would 
 I think enable me to procure the remaining hundred 
 dollars." 
 
 " Possibly your expected son-in-law, that penniless 
 scapegrace of mine, might assist you," he said sarcastic- 
 ally. 
 
 My mother bit her lips till the blood flowed. At 
 length she was able to reply calmly. 
 
 " Mr. Magroy, you have repelled my explanations, 
 you have added insult to insinuation, you would drive 
 me to madness and to ruin. But know, sir ! that there 
 is a higher tribunal where justice shall be meted out
 
 156 BHOEPAO RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 <f 
 
 to the oppressor and the oppressed. You will learn some 
 day, perhaps on this earth, the vileness of your calumni 
 ous insinuation. And now, even though you appear to 
 triumph, I fear you not. No," she added murmuringly, 
 li I fear not what man can do." 
 
 Mrs. March s calmness had by this time excited the 
 inflammable character before her, even as oil the burning 
 tow. 
 
 "What the devil has got into all of them?" he cried 
 jumping upon the floor, and stamping fiercely with his 
 foot and striking his cane. " My villainous son and this 
 washerwoman preach to me ! yes, a woman preach to 
 me ! Is that the way you converted him ? caused him 
 to raise his arm against his indulgent father ? drove him. 
 away from the fire-side of home ; filled his head with 
 fine notions of equality and virtue ; a pox on both you 
 and your preaching ! Please begone from my roof, 
 madam, you contaminate a once happy home with your 
 hypocritical white visage." 
 
 " When you have endorsed the amount of that pack 
 age on the note, Mr. Magroy." 
 
 My mother was remarkably cool and self possessed. 
 A timid bird even will fight for her nest and young. 
 
 "No such thing, madam! I ll do no such thing!" 
 said he tossing the money on the table. 
 
 " Bring the whole amount due, and that in coin, or 
 I ll turn you out of your house, bag and baggage 1" 
 
 Mrs. March gathered up the package, and went out by 
 the office door. Happily this for Mrs. Fidgets, who was
 
 CLOUDS. 157 
 
 so fascinated by the scene, that she was not prepared 
 for my mother s exit by the door at which she was 
 admitted. 
 
 Mrs. March passed through the little orchard fronting 
 the office, and turned her steps towards the business 
 portion of the city. It was past banking hours, and 
 most of the merchants had either deposited in the banks 
 or locked away their specie for safe keeping ; so that it 
 was no easy matter to exchange the bills for the legal 
 tender upon which Mr. Magroy insisted. She succeeded 
 in exchanging a part, however, but as for borrowing the 
 additional hundred dollars that was entirely out of the 
 question on that day. She remembered that the law 
 allowed her until twelve at night to make the payment, 
 and so went heavily homeward. As she walked down 
 the little lawn in front of the dear old mansion that 
 looked now like a blessing brightening as if on the eve 
 of flight, she was almost thrilled at the loud cheery 
 notes of a robin perched on top of a leafless lilac bush. 
 A momentary gleam of hope seemed to quicken her 
 steps at the sound. 
 
 "That robin wouldn t sing so if the little hands 
 that fed it were going away : no ! the angels would not 
 let it." 
 
 So half smilingly half sadly thought the little care- 
 laden woman. 
 
 Now what to do we all did not know. Our tea passed 
 in silence. Tea, that had always been the liveliest 
 meal, where our mother presided over the softly exhil-
 
 158 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 arating beverage with such infinite good humor, and 
 when she told our fortunes from the tea leaves in our 
 cups in the manner of her New England grandmother, 
 and fine happy fortunes they always were. JSTow, with 
 what tear-moistened faces we sat round the board, rais 
 ing our eyes timidly to each other, and casting them 
 anxiously towards the head of the table. 
 
 Tea was not over when a knock was heard at the front- 
 hall door. Guilford arose and went to answer the call. 
 He did not return. After waiting some time we march 
 ed very solemnly into the library, where we found him 
 looking soberly yet singularly into the fire before which 
 he was sitting. It was evident something new had hap 
 pened, and that it was not of an unhappy nature was 
 plain from the boy s countenance. Yet as no one 
 thought it could be connected with the terrible cloud 
 overhanging us and keeping us all so silent, no one 
 thought of questioning him. Finally the restless little 
 Mabel ran over to Guilford, took his face in her two 
 hands, turned it roguishly towards her own, and said : 
 
 " "What is it, Guilford ? Don t torment me any longer. 
 You are provokingly deliberate in your movements, sir 
 knight." 
 
 " Mother," said Guilford, now clearly smiling, " it 
 was a friend." 
 
 . My mother looked towards Maud, who was intently 
 regarding Guilford s further words. 
 
 " What friend ?" cried Mabel. 
 
 " He had seen you accidently in a shop inquiring for
 
 CLOUDS. 159 
 
 specie, and thought by your manner you were in trouble, 
 On my going to the door he took me down to the 
 gate ; said, I was the very one he wanted to see. He 
 inquired what was the trouble. I told him all. " Tell 
 your mother," said he, " I have that amount in specie 
 at my lodgings ; not to perplex herself any more about 
 it. I will see Mr. Magroy before nine o clock and pay 
 it." 
 
 " Heavenly Father !" said my mother in a low voice, 
 " I thank thee," and the tears streamed down her cheeks. 
 The others were too much touched by her agitation to 
 interrupt it. 
 
 At length I broke the silence. 
 
 " You haven t told who it was, Guilford." 
 
 " I know ! I know !" cried the delighted Mabel. 
 
 " "Who do you think, canary bird ?" 
 
 " Allen Magroy ?" 
 
 " No ! he has the heart, but I fear not the means." 
 
 " Then who ?" demanded the disappointed child 
 rather petulantly, for Allen was her hero. 
 
 " Major Fontenoy," quietly replied Guilford March.
 
 160 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTEK XYI. 
 
 THE YOUNG OEATOE. 
 
 Methought I heard a voice, 
 
 Sweet as the shepherd s pipe upon the mountains, 
 When all his little flock s at feed before him. 
 
 OTWAY. 
 
 IT was a good custom in our old times, for gentlemen 
 of all classes, young and old, military, political, legal, 
 commercial, and mechanical clergymen, schoolmas 
 ters, and students to meet for purposes of debate. 
 Eloquence was then a gentlemanly and influential 
 accomplishment ; the tricks and chicanery of politics 
 had not yet supplanted it. 
 
 The society met in the old Council House. 
 
 This venerable building, now no more, deserves a 
 passing word, as it dated back to the most primitive 
 times of the white men on that frontier. Here the 
 chiefs of the tribes gravely smoked Ka-nic-a-nic or 
 Indian tobacco of the North, prepared from the bark of 
 the red willow with the governor of the town and the 
 ghostly Jesuit Fathers. The odor of ka-nic-a-nie still 
 clung to its walls. There seemed yet to be a sort of 
 Indian summer reigning in its atmosphere, as the light
 
 THE YOUNG ORATOR. 161 
 
 streamed through the dusty windows, and was reflected 
 from the old yellow paintings. 
 
 Here, then, after more stately modern edifices had 
 robbed the building a long, low two-story affair of its 
 primitive honors, met the ambitious young men and 
 worthy literary rabbis, to hold high debate. 
 
 How well I remember the chief speakers ! Not the 
 least attractive among the young men was Allen 
 Magroy. His tall person, his long, black hair, his 
 musical voice, the slightly sarcastic, yet ever-softening, 
 smile, and graceful gesture ; he stands before me now, 
 pausing even at the tumultuous applauses beating in the 
 hall of my heart. 
 
 In the chair, presiding with urbanity, sits Major Fon- 
 tenoy. Here is Maud by my side, an attentive, nay a 
 rapt listener, at least to one voice ; and there, with his 
 chin on his cane, sits old Growl himself. While over 
 yonder, under the shade of the gallery, I espy Dr. Oli- 
 phaat, with his face and whiskers wrapped in the folds 
 of a white handkerchief. 
 
 "Who may listen without emotion to the enthusiastic 
 heart-wisdom of Youth, when glowing with the light of 
 eloquence ? He kindles his torch, not at the baleful 
 fires of the world as it is, but turns it towards the world 
 as he thinks it was. Brutus is his justice, Leonidas his 
 patriot ; his father is Kegulus, his mother, Cornelia, his 
 sister, Yirginia, and Greece and Rome are his native 
 country. 
 
 The question to-night concerns the rival merits of
 
 1G2 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 learning and virtue in the welfare of a state. The 
 learned and witty Counsellor O Mar, with his drollery, 
 and mixture of pathos and ridicule, has just sat down 
 beneath the roars and shouts of the meeting. 
 
 Allen rises, to answer him on the side of virtue. You 
 wonder at his temerity. His face is crimsoned with 
 genuine modesty. He alludes deferentially to the 
 superior judgment and greater experience of his prede 
 cessor, and pays a compliment to his art and learning. 
 Before proceeding to unfold his own argument, he 
 attacks the weak points of his adversary ; and in less 
 than five minutes, you are quietly astonished at the 
 ridiculousness of the Irish counsellor s position, deemed 
 a moment ago impregnable. But you console your 
 self with the general absurdity of Irish blarney, and 
 are not yet ready to give the stripling before you credit 
 for overthrowing them. He now proceeds to state the 
 question on his own side. Where did the once indo 
 lent idler get hold of this principle ? where pick up 
 that fact ? Now he warms into the argument ; his body 
 seems to dilate into the ample proportions of a man ; he 
 stands a head taller than before ; he waves his hand 
 with a new grace ; his eyes beam with a new fire ; you 
 watch them with intense interest ; they seem fairly to 
 light up the hall, with its dusky galleries. Men lean 
 over on the backs of the benches in front of them ; a 
 pen dropping from the secretary s table, sounds like 
 thunder, and you are ready to devour the secretary for 
 venturing to stoop down and pick it up. In the heat of
 
 THE YOUNG ORATOR. 163 
 
 the argument, at the top of a climax of power and 
 beauty, the tables are suddenly turned again on the 
 counsellor. A sudden sally takes everybody by sur 
 prise, and brings down the house with peals of laughter. 
 You look at the adversary, expecting to see him faint, 
 or get up and leave the hall, and are surprised at his 
 nonchalance; nay, he himself looks with admiration at 
 the young orator. 
 
 Then came the peroration. The debater s long locks 
 are brushed away from his temples. His eyes have a 
 far-off gaze ; and even your own thoughts are not at 
 home now. You see the Acropolis, the streets of 
 Athens, the prison where Socrates sits drinking hemlock, 
 and conversing calmly with his friends. Or, by rapid 
 movements of the fancy, you are a spectator in Inde 
 pendence Hall, and behold Franklin and Washington ; 
 or on Bunker Hill, amid the fire, and smoke, and shock, 
 and war, and groans, and shouts, you lean over the 
 dying Warren. Then solemnly you gaze, with the pale, 
 husky, agitated champion, on Calvary, and see the 
 cross, and victim there nailed between the two malefac 
 tors, while Rabbis are contending in the Sanhedrim 
 over their books of ancient lore, and ignorant of the 
 Light that has come into the world. 
 
 Allen sits down, and all eyes are turned on old Mr. 
 Magroy ; but mine regard only the sweet, trembling, 
 delighted Maud at my side. Jt seemed to me that when 
 the speaker spoke of learning, he addressed Mr. Magroy, 
 and when he grew so eloquent in the cause of virtue,
 
 164 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 his great, burning eye-balls shone only on Maud. The 
 question is carried by acclamation in favor of virtue. 
 The meeting breaks up, and everybody shakes the hand 
 of Allen Magroy everybody save one. Yet their eyes 
 have met, and in that one look is Allen s chief laurel. 
 
 How cruel that destiny seemed, which, like an impas 
 sable abyss, divided those great twin hearts. There 
 they stand, like two tall cliffs, asunder, with their sun 
 lit faces fixed, the one upon the other, in steady con 
 stancy, sublime to contemplate. 
 
 Time, the river at their feet, rolled down many a 
 golden sand for others, yet brought no happiness for 
 them. 
 
 The scrupulous Maud pursued her conscientious path, 
 and, so far as outward sign might show, was no more to 
 Allen Magroy than other gentle maidens of the city. 
 
 Thus years flowed wearily away. The river was 
 widening towards the ocean. 
 
 Meanwhile Allen passed the bar, and Mr. Floury 
 took the eloquent young advocate into partnership. 
 Allen mingled with society ; he often met Maud ; she 
 was generally attended by the devoted Major Fonteuoy, 
 who lived only in the light of her smiles.
 
 WILD OATS. 165 
 
 CHAPTER XYIL 
 
 WILD OATS. , 
 
 DURING the period which has passed, Maud has been 
 teaching school, helping no little towards the purchase 
 of the homestead, and Guilford has been placed in a 
 store with the understanding that the nights shall be 
 his own, and his wages go scrupulously into the com 
 mon fund. Yet with these aids Mrs. March has been 
 forced to sell a portion of the large grounds belonging 
 to the place, as with each year, according to the terms 
 of contract, an additional hundred dollars over the last 
 payment is added. 
 
 Meantime we have frequent letters from John. 
 During the annual vacations at college he goes into 
 some ISTew England town and teaches school, thus he 
 contribiites towards his education and aids his mother 
 in carrying out the views of Mr. March. College con 
 ceits are gradually wearing away beneath experience 
 and maturing reason. He has lost his heart beyond 
 redemption, every summer during his absence, till now 
 he begins to talk wisely of the world, and slightingly of 
 the softer sex. It is thought that John will marry a 
 rich wife and become a solid man of Boston.
 
 166 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 As for myself the memory of my father is yet green 
 in my heart. My love for him is the little shining river 
 meandering through my days, and on its banks are 
 clustered the fair flowers of beauty and the rich fruits 
 of love. I am not sure that my poetical eiforts do not 
 date back as far as this period. 
 
 It was a melancholy happiness to take Mabel with 
 me Sunday afternoons with baskets of flowers, which we 
 braided and laid all over his grave. Sometimes my 
 mother went with us, and looked on with an abstracted 
 air, while we twined garlands over the sorrel, which 
 like little crosses waved amid the grasses as the gentle 
 south wind swept along. On one occasion a tall elderly 
 man, a stranger, who said he came all the way from 
 Nova Scotia, accompanied my mother to the church 
 yard, and they two knelt down together and wept. He 
 did not make himself known to us, but only said : 
 
 " He was my friend, where is his grave ?" 
 
 This person may have been once a fur trader. 
 
 My wanderings in the woods formed an ever fresh 
 source of pleasing ruminations. Here I led a life all 
 my own. The noise of the school, the sports of merry 
 companions, and the pleasures of home, where my 
 mother and Mabel were and yet where care, though 
 in gentle guise, stood in the midst of us school-books, 
 and the little every-day duties which fell to my share 
 in the common object to gain all these were forgotten 
 in the woods. The rustling of the branches, the sing 
 ing of the birds, the distant sound of a gun, the bark
 
 WILD OATS. 167 
 
 of invisible clogs, the lowing of far-off cattle, the soft 
 mottled sunsliine, the cool shade and fragrant atmos 
 phere, charmed my half melancholy senses. Perched 
 in the crotch of some tree on Wednesday or Saturday 
 afternoons when there was no school I would sit with 
 a pleasing book, a romance, or the homelike songs of 
 Burns, even Addison s Spectator and Johnson s Rambler 
 were devoured with sober satisfaction : but my delights 
 were the Vicar of Wakefield and Rasselas. In the one 
 I compared Mrs. March to Parson Primrose, in the 
 other, Guilford to the Prince. I thought it good to be 
 a philosopher. Then I did not know but a poet would 
 be the thing. Then I compromised between the two, 
 and resolved to be both. 
 
 But a few times going to the theatre, I remember the 
 first play The Forty Thieves and reading a book of 
 plays, put me in love with the drama. "With reluctance 
 I confess that many a night I would kiss my trustful 
 mother good night, go to bed only till the house grew 
 still, then rise and steal off to the theatre. At last I 
 resolved to write a play. For this purpose I selected 
 an exciting novel of the day, and worked the whole 
 winter changing it into dialogues with acts and scenes. 
 Finishing to my taste, and to the recommendation of a 
 young gentleman boarder, my confidant, I lounged 
 around the purlieus of the theatre, principally at the 
 drinking-shop, where the actors congregated, waiting 
 for an opportunity to place it in the hands of the 
 manager. For weeks I watched with the play buttoned
 
 168 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 up in my coat. The manager came and went occasion 
 ally, but he was a repulsive looking man, who acted the 
 parts of cruel tyrants and bad fathers, and my heart 
 always failed me. Finally I summoned sufficient courage 
 to address one of the principal actors a kind-hearted 
 man he may be living yet, his name was Marsh. 
 Noticing that jokes always seemed to please the actors, 
 I asked him waggishly : 
 
 " Are you sure, sir, that your name is Marsh ?" 
 
 The gentleman stared, and his companions laughed. 
 
 ""Well, sir!" he said at last, "suppose it be, then 
 again, suppose it be not, what then ?" 
 
 My waggishness all vanished and left me in the 
 lurch. 
 
 " Only please, sir, my name is March, and I thought 
 possibly yours might be too, and that you may have 
 changed it." 
 
 " "Why, you little rogue, do you think me ashamed 
 of my father s name ?" 
 
 " No, sir," said I, quite frightened, " only I have 
 heard that actors frequently change their names." 
 
 " You are a curious little fellow : won t you take a 
 cigar or an orange, or something ?" 
 
 " No, sir ! I thank you very much." 
 
 On the following occasion of my visit to the place I 
 found Mr. Marsh alone, sitting on a bench in the garden 
 attached to the theatre. 
 
 He accosted me with great cordiality, and called me 
 to a seat by his side. After begging his pardon for
 
 WILD OATS. 169 
 
 prying into his private business the other day, I took 
 my play from my breast. He glanced at it very care 
 lessly. 
 
 "Who wrote this, my little friend?" 
 
 "I did, sir." He gazed doubtingly. 
 
 " You are not telling me a story ?" 
 
 " No, sir. I never told a story in my life." And 
 I colored deeply, and was a little offended. 
 
 "Well, what do you want done with this?" 
 
 " If you would only be good enough to look at it and 
 see whether it can be acted ?" 
 
 " Oh ! certainly, certainly. If it can be brought out 
 you will see it announced in the bills." 
 
 " But I say" I had risen, and was about to leave 
 
 him, " I wouldn t write any more tragedies." 
 
 I stopped, and looked at him inquiringly. 
 
 " It s poor business, even for a grown man, my little 
 author. If you want to be a happy man, don t write 
 plays. If you want to escape having all your nights 
 and days plunged into the inky depths of despair, don t 
 write plays. If you wish neither to envy nor be envied, 
 if you do not want to live on the rack, to be a haunter 
 of green-rooms and taverns, to stand in fear of miserable, 
 capricious, besotted, starveling stage managers, and 
 crochety critics, for God s sake don t write plays !" 
 
 The kind man seemed to be very much in earnest. I 
 thanked him with tears in my eyes, shook hands, and as 
 soon as I had passed through the drinking-rooms, I ran 
 with all my might. 
 
 8
 
 170 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 It must be remembered, in justification of the words 
 of the actor, that at that period the drama was at its 
 lowest point, and a very diiferent institution from the 
 now-flourishing temple of Thespis. 
 
 For weeks, I looked at the bottom of the play-bills 
 for the announcement of the forthcoming appearance of 
 a " new play, ; The Outlaw, by a young gentleman of 
 this city." 
 
 The season terminated, the company went away, the 
 theatre gates closed, and I was disappointed. During 
 the four or five weeks that intervened, I lived, as the 
 good actor predicted, fairly " on the rack." But that 
 was nothing to what my fate would have been had they 
 attempted the performance of my tragedy. In fact, I 
 am not sure that he is not a good man and a benefactor, 
 who declines to perform your first play or publish your 
 first poem. 
 
 Shortly after this air-castle t timbled into blue- tinted 
 ruins, one of the class of persons called revival preach 
 ers favored our city with a visit. It became the fashion 
 at once to "get religion," as it is called, particularly 
 among the young people. The uncouth eloquence of 
 the Rev. Ilolifernes Brimstone, was physically captiva 
 ting. 
 
 After all, there is something picturesque in the wild 
 descriptions and familiar allegories of revival preachers. 
 My heart fell a willing sacrifice to conscience, aroused 
 by the roaring of the lion of Judah. "With a firm step 
 I advanced to the bench known as the anxious-seat, and
 
 WILD OA.TS. 171 
 
 full of the frenzy, as well as the language of those 
 around me, with my arm uplifted, I exclaimed 
 
 " I have been a soldier of Satan, and I enlist under 
 the banner of the cross !" 
 
 And straightway fell upon my knees, and poured out 
 torrents of tears. I remember that while on my knees, 
 I fancied myself a sort of martyr to early piety possi 
 bly my name might yet figure in some new Fox s 
 Book of Martyrs. The extreme susceptibility of emo 
 tion, however, soon wore away. My religion was an 
 imaginative principle, creating a new world. I desired 
 to do something out of the common way, No ordinary 
 missionary life, even, would do. I inquired of my 
 mother whether there were not some Jewish blood in 
 the family ? Possibly I might be a Hebrew of the 
 Hebrews ; nay a lineal descendant of David ; per 
 chance the intended restorer of the Jews nay the very 
 Messiah ! or, at least, a very near connection a sort of 
 right-hand man, an earthly instrument, his sword-arm 
 destined to overthrow kingdoms and achieve the victory 
 of Armageddon. 
 
 The " young converts," as the good deacon called us, 
 were examined for admission to the communion of the 
 faithful. The number of questions propounded was as 
 great as the sands on the sea-shore, and more various. 
 
 I failed beyond redemption on the following question : 
 
 " Do you feel it to be your duty, my young brother, 
 to urge upon sinners the danger of their souls, in all 
 places and under all circumstances ?"
 
 172 SHOE PAG RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 ""What!" I demanded, "if I chance to meet a young 
 lady on the street?" 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " Then my answer is, no." 
 
 My name was placed on the list of doubtful cases. 
 "What! notwithstanding all those dreams of philan 
 thropy and Hebrew visions, could the wise men of the 
 church hesitate ? I began to suspect their fitness. 
 
 But, it seems, the worthy committee had a shrewd 
 method of their own. Time proved its wisdom. In less 
 than a month, I shudder to think what a reprobate I be 
 came. I attended a juvenile ball ! there were fiddles and 
 flutes, a bass-viol and triangles, sponge-cake, lemonade, 
 and a glass of wine in an ante-room. Guilford and Mabel, 
 Maud and Allen were there, and Major Fontenoy and 
 M. Latrobe looked on with beaming faces. The floor 
 was chalked, and I plead guilty to dancing ! nay, to 
 being one of the managers ! and wearing a blue rosette, 
 
 made by alas, not Mabel ! And here it is time to 
 
 confess to another delinquency. During this memo 
 rable summer I had fallen desperately in love. My 
 Dulcinea was much older than myself, yet quite as 
 ardent a lover. Did she not return a bashful kiss I 
 ventured to steal at that very ball? and did we not 
 tramp the streets of the city, and the border of the river 
 a mile above town, of nights, night after night-? and 
 did not her step-mother cruel woman ! scold her, and 
 call me " little boy," one day when I had my newest 
 pantaloons and tightest straps on ? and did not her
 
 WILD OATS. 1Y3 
 
 father send her away East to boarding-school ? and was 
 I not sent by Mrs. March to rusticate at Farmer 
 Jumps s ? and did I not catch the fever and ague ? and 
 did I not recover and write Dulcinea a letter, vowing 
 fidelity and constancy towards her, but hatred to all 
 step-mothers, and chiefly one f and did I not receive a 
 silly reply, saying she had not time to write me, because 
 she had just made an engagement to ride with " such a 
 love of a young man?" What better proof of love 
 than change ? "What better proof of fever than a 
 chill ? How Mabel laughs at me to this blessed day 
 about it ! 
 
 From the frenzy of religion to the frenzy of love ; 
 from love to fever and ague what a fall ! I recovered 
 from the latter to plunge with new ardor more than 
 the ardor of youth into a little sea of politics ! The 
 ship of state was a juvenile debating society, over whose 
 interests the members strove with a valor worthy a 
 higher place than these chronicles. The question at 
 issue was the welfare and increase of our collection of 
 books. Parties formed, divided, fought. Caucuses 
 were held in kitchens, garrets, cellars, fire-engine, 
 houses, anywhere. Oaths of secresy and union were 
 administered. Various sagacious methods were adopted 
 to draw over the wavering. Speeches were delivered 
 not contemptible for manner, matter, or success. Duels 
 were fought fortunately with cork bullets. Thus 
 sagacious politicians sprouted in the fertile fields of the 
 tumultuous West. Thus tact, invention, secresy, combi-
 
 174: SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 nation, and the power of concerted action takes earlr 
 root, and .bears at no late day a goodly crop of heroes 
 and statesmen. 
 
 Hands once in, as the saying is, our mischievour 
 thoughts were turned into new channels. We played 
 tricks on honest citizens and their houses at night. We 
 conspired against the peace of the city. We interrupted 
 public meetings, and charged upon singing schools. We 
 dived into forbidden places in disguise, and came out 
 at the Mayor s Court. 
 
 Thus feverishly, thus ignobly were consumed some of 
 the most precious years of my life. Yet in common 
 with other staid old gentlemen who look back with pity 
 if not pleasure on the foibles of youth as at the 
 worst but the rank weeds of a fertile soil I sometimes 
 like to recount my wild oats. That a certain religious 
 tone, like a vein of gold running through Plutonic 
 regions, preserved its course through this unhappy 
 period, may seem strange, yet such was the fact, trifling 
 as may be the value set upon it by those who know little 
 of the human heart. How sweetly have I prized it 
 since ! The bare consciousness of wrong-doing may be 
 the slender thread connecting man with divinity. It 
 may be the clue that will lead him through error and 
 transgression to the final light. 
 
 How the thoughts of Walter March came to take 
 a military turn I do not know, unless it was the 
 unbounded admiration he felt for Major Fontenoy. It 
 was during my sixteenth year that the candidate to re-
 
 WILD OATS. 175 
 
 present our newly formed State in Congress proposed to 
 Mrs. March to send me to West Point. This gentleman 
 seemed so delighted with his elevation, that like the clown 
 in the farce, he stood ready to marry all the widows, and 
 father all the children amongst his constituents. In fact 
 this virtuous politician gave out significantly before 
 election that his reign should be known as the para 
 disaical period for such poor folk ; that Widow March s 
 son should go to West Point, and the son of another 
 widow should have a midshipman s warrant ; he would 
 fill the post-office with indigent blind persons, and the 
 custom-house with deaf and dumb. Our worthy friend 
 and patron had lately visited the East, where he had 
 been conspicuous in the assemblages of public philan 
 thropists. 
 
 My application was drawn up in due form by Major 
 Fontenoy, himself a military graduate. The newly 
 elected member, Hon. Oliver Hazzard Perry Hustings, 
 took the paper with many recommendations accompany 
 ing it, to the seat of government. We heard no more 
 of the matter until the return of Mr. Hustings, who told 
 us with evident pain he had not been able to secure the 
 appointment, but that had the application been for a 
 midshipman s berth he could have got it. My friend 
 the navy candidate, however, fared no better. Mr. 
 Hustings told him it was a pity he had not applied for 
 West Point ! 
 
 In a short time we learned that the benevolent and
 
 
 176 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 disinterested statesman had appointed the sons of two 
 political friends. 
 
 It was then that M. Latrobe offered to take the 
 matter in hand. 

 
 THE J U M P 8 E 8 . 177 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE JU3IPSES. 
 
 " BLESS my stars !" exclaimed Bowes, rubbing her 
 hands on her clean apron. " If there ain t farmer 
 Jumps ! and Joram ! just as sure as I m a livin woman !" 
 Bowes always did delight in strong expressions. The 
 two worthies were seen walking up the lawn carrying 
 each a basket, and between them a seal-skin covered 
 trunk. Their persons were adorned with new garments, 
 evidently meant to serve as fashion plates by the village 
 tailor. 
 
 Since last, we made mention of the worthy farmer, 
 philosophizing with Guilford in front of his cabin and 
 giving utterance to country complainings, time had not 
 dealt churlishly with him. He had now a less care 
 worn expression of countenance, a freer air, and was 
 more portly in person in short was a justice of the 
 peace for the township of Green Run. 
 
 " Wall, Widow March " he always reminded my 
 mother of her widowhood in the manner of those who 
 call you Squire, or Major, as aware of your dignity. 
 
 " How de dew ?" 
 
 The Messers Jumps senior and junior were cordially 
 
 8*
 
 178 BHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 shaken by the hand, and invited of course into the 
 library. Mr. Joram Jumps sat down charily, with but 
 the edge of his person on the corner of the lounge, 
 while Mr. Jumps senior made himself quite easy and 
 comfortable at once in the arm-chair as any squire 
 should. Trunk and baskets were left in the hall. Re 
 assured by his father s confidence of manner, Joram 
 gradually gained ground on the lounge, till he felt him 
 self sufficiently secure to lean back, as imitative of his 
 father as the back of the lounge permitted. 
 
 "Picture of the old man, s pose?" said Squire Jumps, 
 pointing towards the portrait of Mr. March. 
 
 Joram cast two pencils of what little light was 
 reflected from his diminutive eyes upward towards the 
 picture, without presuming, however, to turn up his 
 face sufficiently for a full view. 
 
 Those eyes ! 
 
 They were set a league back in Joram s head. 
 
 But that nose ! 
 
 Picture to yourself the least possible bit of red flesh 
 turned up, and overlapped, as one may say, by two round, 
 prominent cheeks, so as to throw the cut-water of this 
 noble human bark back between the bows. 
 
 But eyes and nose together ! 
 
 Fancy a railway tunnel. Through the long conical 
 vista, behold an object that nose yet doubting whe 
 ther you actually see anything but two lights above 
 those eyes. 
 
 In fact, it seems as if the good old fairy lady who
 
 THE JUMP8E8. 179 
 
 presided over Joram s face, was a capricious painter 
 capricious even for a painter, nay, even for a woman 
 and had drawn that part of the picture intended for the 
 foreground of this human form divine, all perspective. 
 Nature and true art always go together ; and Joram s 
 shirt-maker had heightened the view of this perspective 
 by the altitude of the advanced points of Joram s collar, 
 which was starched stiff withal, and held Joram s jaws 
 so straight to the front, and his neck so immovably 
 erect, that you wondered whether Jorain was not 
 afflicted with one of Job s comforters on the neck. 
 
 " I have brought you a little garden sarse, Widow 
 March, not knowing how s you mightn t be pestered in 
 the city to get fresh vegetables." 
 
 Joram, by a stupendous effort, turned his erect person 
 towards the open hall-door, through which the baskets 
 were visible, and caught an indistinct view, I dare say, 
 of the edge of the greater basket. 
 
 " You are very, very good, Mr. Jumps." 
 
 " Folks always calls him squire to home !" was heard 
 from the far end of the rail w ay tunnel, in a nasal twang. 
 
 " Keep your peace, Joram !" sternly ordered his 
 indignant sire. 
 
 " Wall, as you re justice peace, s pose I must." These 
 sounds, I must not forget to say, issued from the tunnel ; 
 but Joram s cheeks, and chin, and collar, were as 
 immovable as the rock through which railway tunnels 
 are usually pierced. 
 
 " My hopeful son there," Mr. Jumps went on to 6ay,
 
 180 SHOEPAC EECOLLECTION8. 
 
 without deigning to notice the witticism just perpe 
 trated " my hopeful son there thinks he must have an 
 education. "Wall, the course adopted by my^ father in 
 Vairmont was just to let common sense do the business, 
 for he always thought common sense the chief end of 
 life, especially on a farm. Then says I to Joram, says 
 I, I m your natural-born father, I believe, says I, and 
 Mrs. Jumps she nodded her head, and I m not goin to 
 be stingy with you, and spoil your education, just 
 cause your gran daddy spoilt your daddy s. So just 
 adopt your course. What is it ? Speak up like a man. 
 
 " Then, says Joram, says he, I ve been thinking 
 ever since that ere Guilford March was out here, and 
 Suz she thinks so too, that an educated man knows more 
 than an uneducated man ! 
 
 " Hain t got any more common sense, Joe, says I. 
 
 " "Wall, says he Guilford knew more than all on us 
 put together, except you and mam. Then thinks I to 
 myself, says Joram, says he, there ain t no use of edu 
 cation unless in the learned professions. And that s the 
 reason why I have wanted to be a minister ever since 
 that ere March boy came out here. 
 
 " I tried a long time to beat this notion out of Joram s 
 head, for I thought he never would make a minister 
 worth going to hear. Still I was willing to give the crit- 
 tur an education to make a man of him, but 
 
 " It won t be any use on a farm, " says Joram, says he. 
 
 " Why not ? says I. 
 
 " Cause it didn t do Guilford March any good, and I
 
 THE JTJMPSES. 181 
 
 kinder guess on the contrary it made him sick of 
 farming. 
 
 " Did too ! true as preachin," issued from the tun 
 nel. 
 
 " Wall now, Widow March, I ve brought him in to see 
 what can be done, and all I ask of you is just to adopt a 
 course." 
 
 " Please explain yourself, Mr. Jumps Squire Jumps I 
 mean," said my mother, looking apologetically at Joram. 
 
 " Yes inarm !" said the immovable centre of the 
 picture. 
 
 " Wall mam, if you can take this ere boy of mine " 
 the " boy " was six feet tall and twenty-two years old 
 " if you can take this ere boy," he repeated, " do his 
 boardin, lodgin, and washin, and ironin, and mendin, and 
 send him to Doctor Oliphant s school, I ll do what s 
 right." 
 
 " To tell you the only trouble in the matter," replied 
 my mother, " I ve no room to give your son." 
 
 " Sleep with the boys, thick as three in a bed, don t 
 care a darn, by Golden !" 
 
 The canvas of the picture shook a little as these 
 sounds were emitted from the vanishing point of rays. 
 
 At this stage of the negotiation, Guilford came in for 
 his dinner, and he and I readily agreed with my mother 
 that a new bedstead might be set up in our room for 
 Joram Jumps. 
 
 " Wall," says the good farmer, rising, " now mam 
 adopt your course. Say what is it ?"
 
 182 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " "What is what, Mr. Jura I mean Squire Jumps f t" 
 Mrs. March did not venture to glance at Joram. The 
 tunnel was regarding the lady, however, and said 
 solemnly again : 
 " Yes marm !" 
 
 "Why, say how much you ask, mam, set your own 
 price ; so it taint onreasonable I m ready to adopt " 
 
 " Oh ! as for that matter, Squire Jumps " the little 
 lamps seen through the tunnel twinkled " the terms 
 shall be the regular price." 
 
 "Which being arranged to the satisfaction of all con 
 cerned, Squire Jumps arose to go. My mother invited 
 him to dine. The farmer excused himself on the plea 
 of business. 
 
 " Stay to dinner, dad !" spoke Joram rather eagerly 
 for a picture. 
 
 " See how they live. "Want my money s worth." 
 The old gentleman was unchangeable, however, and 
 Bowes was called to empty the baskets. There was 
 quite a bill of fare. To wit : A turkey nicely dressed 
 a half peck of meal in a pillow case, three quinces, one 
 squash, twelve apples, a tenderloin of fresh pork, three 
 carrots, a string of silver-skinned onions, two dozen eggs, 
 one blood beet, a little coriander seed in a bit of muslin 
 tied up with pinkish ribbons, two rolls of fresh butter, 
 and a little kitten from Susannah to Mabel. 
 
 " I came into town in the cars with our new member," 
 said Mr. Jumps senior. " He larfed at me considerable 
 about these two baskets, and asked me if I wasn t carry-
 
 THE JUMPS E 8. 183 
 
 ing my dinner into town ? I told him no ; I wasn t a 
 member of the legislature." 
 
 The tunnel now laughed outright, suddenly checking 
 himself and coughed like a locomotive just going out at 
 the far end of the perspective. 
 
 Farmer Jumps had kept up a friendly intercourse 
 with us, ever since the Guilford affair, concerning which 
 he often laughed loudly. 
 
 " Your mother s the woman for the money," said 
 Jumps. " She knows how to adopt a course. Now if 
 she d said no ! and kept your brother back from 
 goin onto a farm, he d never have been satisfied, and 
 might at last have run away and gone out West, and 
 you never have heard more on him. But she just told 
 me, says she, 
 
 " Don t spare my son a little labor, Mr. Jumps, let 
 him have his heart s content. He won t bother you 
 long. 
 
 " Trust me for that, said I, catchin her idea in a 
 second, and larfiii ready to bust myself. Only take 
 care on his health, says she, but just show him what 
 farming truly is. 
 
 " Now that s the way to break in wild colts. 
 
 " Now my two boys took it into their heads there was 
 nothin like playin cards. So I just shot em up in the 
 old cabin that was arter we moved into the new house 
 with two of the hands to work on the farm, and sot 
 em all to playin high low jack and the game, or what 
 ever they liked. Wall, they thought it fine fun for a
 
 184 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTION S. 
 
 while, but by and by grew tired and wanted to come 
 out. But no, boys, says I, you love the crittur -just 
 you stay where you are till you are satisfied. 
 
 " I guess I kept em in with nothing but their meals 
 for four days and nights, and they hain t touched a card 
 since." 
 
 "Never will !" muttered Joram distantly. 
 
 This conversation took place at the Jumpses, when I 
 was sent there to rusticate after my love freak with 
 Dulcinea. The family were living quite comfortably in 
 a new house built of hewn logs. The neighborhood was 
 settled more thickly. The O Gradys had been driven 
 out by the intolerable force of public opinion, the 
 American civilizer ; the school-house was standing on 
 the road-side at a mile s distance from the Jumps estate, 
 and here prayer meetings were held weekly, and school 
 in the winter time. 
 
 Little as we may commend the reputation of rustic 
 schools in that country, and at that dim twilight period, 
 this we may say the prayer meetings were unique, 
 Far be it from us to speak irreverently, much less with 
 ridicule, of those private assemblages of the good. The 
 rude attempts at religious services on the part of those 
 benighted pioneers, may perchance bear more glorious 
 testimony at the judgment seat than the more refined 
 and sumptuous worship, vacantly and with wandering 
 eyes, conned over in velvet pews, and chanted from the 
 throats of gilded organs, or trilled with operatic effect 
 by hired musicians. In the East, good honest souls are
 
 THE JTJMP8E8. 185 
 
 hired to mourn for the dead. Why may not we employ 
 proxies to sing for the living ? Tis doubtless sweeter, in 
 the ears of cherubim and seraphim on high, to hear 
 the well tuned voices of professional sweet singers, than 
 the inharmonious concourse of rude utterances from a 
 promiscuous congregation of saints and sinners. 
 
 Mew me my good pussy cat. Coo me my soft turtle 
 dove I ll fain do my own roaring in the streets. 
 
 And since we have descended to the animal creation, 
 it behoves us to speak at once of certain young crows ? 
 or gentlemen of the cloth, as they are softly denominat 
 ed, from a certain Theological Seminary not many 
 leagues distant from that State in our grand confederacy 
 where swine are wont to be fed. In the woods, through 
 which they disseminated their doctrines, and quartered 
 themselves on the simple farmer folk, they were known 
 as perfectionists. The incumbent of the Green Run circuit 
 was the Rev. Mr. Milkwhite. On the occasion of my 
 attending " meeting " in the little log school-house by 
 the road-side, this gentleman, a youthful prophet, sat 
 behind a little pine table, serving the purposes of pulpit 
 and desk, with his eyes of milky blue raised, or rather 
 voluminously rolled, up to the ceiling. It was after the 
 regular morning service a special gathering of the 
 Just, making or already made perfect. Here sat on low 
 wooden benches a few of the choice spiritual dames and 
 fathers of the Church Militant, settled in the neighbor 
 hood of Green Run. As it did not seem to be expected 
 or desired that sinners would be present, it was with no
 
 186 8HOEPAC RECOLLEC TICKS. 
 
 little difficulty I had prevailed upon Joram and Tobias 
 to remain with. me. In the brief interval between the 
 two meetings they pointed out the parties assembled, 
 and gave me their names, with a glimpse here and there 
 of their characters. I found them to be chiefly the ter 
 magant wives and hen-pecked husbands of the township, 
 with an honest exceptional old greyheaded saint ready 
 to worship God with sheep or goat. 
 
 To my own discredit be it acknowledged, that Walter 
 
 */ O 7 
 
 March was there from motives of idle curiosity. 
 
 " Brother Pipelegs will lead the meeting in prayer," 
 quoth the Rev. Mr. Milkwhite, lowering his eyes 
 towards the side of the house occupied by the female 
 benches, but raising his mortal incumbrance of a body, 
 turning with a heavenly sigh, and kneeling down with 
 much devout emotion in short, a groan. 
 
 Brother Pipelegs prayer was not very edifying. He 
 had become familiar to the ears of the neighborhood, 
 at Jumps s and elsewhere, for years. But he was fol 
 lowed by young Milkwhite himself. Oh ! what a happy 
 season : those excited hearts leaped for joy ; their joy 
 ful groans, their shouts of Hosannah ! Amen ! come 
 Quickly ! Jordan ! and Canaan ! were heard far through 
 the green old cloistered woods. Yet I, who had not 
 long since passed through some excitement not such 
 as this, however in a religious way, God forgive my 
 shortcomings I was not completely overcome, but 
 wondered at the manifest discrepancy between natural 
 cause and supernatural eifect, for Mr. Milkwhite was
 
 THE JUMPSES. 187 
 
 not in my worldly eyes an exciting young man, but a 
 feeble, rather, I thought. Be that as it might, here was 
 the emotion of- a host under the thunder claps of a 
 Wickliffe. 
 
 Amid the rapid rustling of palm leaf and turkey tail 
 fans, a hymn was then sung to the tune of Peter Street, 
 for the refreshment of those devotees. 
 
 Rev. Mr. Milkwhite s eyes were no longer on the 
 ceiling. Doubtless the dove for which he had been 
 looking had come down. And that dove, it appeared 
 to my sinful mind, Mr. Milkwhite found rustling amid 
 the muslins of the good dames before him, for there 
 were his eyes now also, during the singing of one of 
 Watt s beautiful hymns. 
 
 Brother Peppergrass was then called on for a prayer, 
 and the meeting knelt again. 
 
 Mrs. Peppergrass was deeply moved ; her sighs 
 choked into gasps, her gasps grew into sobs, her sobs 
 fell into tears, her tears dried into moans, and Mr. Milk- 
 white noiselessly arose to comfort the afflicted dame. 
 He knelt down by her side and softly placed his arm 
 around that buxom waist, while with the hand of the 
 other arm he tenderly brought the cheek of Mrs. Pep 
 pergrass on his own shoulder. In this heart-moving, 
 this comforting position, he gently consoled the afflicted 
 Mi s. Peppergrass with the words of hope and joy, till 
 Mr. Peppergrass ceased praying. 
 
 "Will Brother Dandelamb pray?" 
 
 Mrs. Dandelarnb now fell into a similar state of
 
 188 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 tribulation, to that lately betrayed by the now calm 
 Mrs. Peppergrass, and Mr. Milkwhite vouchsafed a no 
 less touching condolence. 
 
 " The meeting will now," he said, as Mr. Dandelamb 
 closed his hearty, honest, simple appeal, " the meeting 
 will now have a season of silent prayer." 
 
 And the benevolent Mr. Milkwhite moved like an 
 angel of mercy from man to man, and from woman to 
 woman, to comfort and relieve the o erfraught heart. 
 How gently he laid his hand a hand of pearl on the 
 shoulder of each distressed brother ! How tenderly 
 he communed closely, face against face, with each 
 sad sister! A chapter in the New Testament was 
 then read. The attention given would be a mild 
 reproach to any city auditory, it was almost breath 
 less except from the-apalm leaf and turkey tail fans. 
 
 At length the reader, with much emphasis, came to 
 the words "Be ye perfect." No sooner was "perfect" 
 uttered, than prone upon the floor fell three sisters and 
 one brother, and so far as I could see, they were all in a 
 swoon. There was some slight spasmodic action here 
 and there, but in another moment, they all four lay pale 
 and motionless. 
 
 To my astonishment, this did not frighten Mr. Milk- 
 white. 
 
 " Where," said I resentfully to myself, " where now 
 that tender care which, when the bodies of these simple 
 people could sustain themselves, was too freely granted ? 
 Oh! Milkwhite!"
 
 THE JUMPSES. 189 
 
 I then whispered to Joram, " Why in the world don t 
 they do something for the poor creatures?" 
 
 Alas ! Joram s ears seemed buried beneath his shirt 
 collar ; his eyes fixed reverentially on the milky azure 
 eyes before him. 
 
 " Toby !" I shouted in that young gentleman s ears ; 
 " will none of them move ? Shall we let them die ?" 
 
 " Nothing but the power, " whispered Tobias. 
 
 J moved forward myself, towards the nearest body. 
 J3oth Joram and Toby held me back. There they lay, 
 extended in syncope during the rest of the chapter, 
 during another prayer from Mr. Milkwhite, a concluding 
 hymn and the benediction. We went away and left 
 them still lying there, stiff, white and motionless. 
 
 Toby told me, after leaving the little log temple, that 
 the four persons who had fallen before our eyes, were 
 thought to have arrived at the coveted state of perfec 
 tion. The proof of this consisted in their trances. The 
 stout Mr. Pipelegs, and the gaunt, sharp-visaged Mrs. 
 Peppergrass no sooner heard the sound of certain 
 charmed words, such as Perfection and Holy Spirit, 
 than away they swooned. Mr. Peppergrass at the 
 plough, or Mrs. Peppergrass at the churn, would sink 
 down at no further notice, and remain insensible for an 
 hour. 
 
 On our way homeward, that still sweet Sabbath 
 evening, feeling that Nature had been violated, and 
 God profaned in the solemn courts of the pure wilder 
 ness, I said to Joram
 
 190 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " Yon are very affectionate in these parts ! Do all 
 ministers embrace the good sisters of the church in this 
 wise ?" 
 
 " Don t call that anything, do ye ?" 
 
 " "Why at home you may kiss a French damsel, or 
 madame on New Year s day but this sort of thing, 
 you know " 
 
 " Brotherly love," quoth the walking tunnel-picture 
 at my side. 
 
 " But I wouldn t bear it ! Do you intend to marry a 
 wife here, and permit such liberties ?" 
 
 " No ! I intend to be a minister myself 1"
 
 MABEL ANDJORAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 MABEL AND JORAM. 
 
 MABEL LATROBE! the cricket on our hearth, the 
 canary-bird of the house, our bright little star-flower. 
 Maude was the fringed gentian of the prairie, sometimes 
 our lily of the valley. In what colors may I paint 
 thee, Mabel ! my life s darling ! 
 
 Every artist knows how difficult it is to take the likeness 
 of a child, and it seems as though Mabel always was a 
 child, and ever will be a child. And I fear lest the 
 patient reader of these leaflets of memory grow tired 
 of child history. O ! reader, companion of my journey 
 so far up the hill of life, dost thou weary of the tender 
 growths of plant, and tree, and grassy violet bank? 
 Seekest thou impatiently the dark pine and rocky crag 
 alone ? Bear with me, gentle sir, a little while, ere we 
 depart from the sweet scenes of childhood. One look 
 more at the village green over which you tripped to 
 
 school and sanctury in days when well, no matter ; 
 
 but look at that little locket, and those scraps of old 
 notes treasured away, and sigh with me o er boyhood 
 and your own Mabel Latrobe. 
 
 Such a medley of folly and wisdom, vanity and
 
 192 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 modesty, smartness and uncommon sense, tenderness 
 and ridicule, sympathy and irony, such a little deter 
 mined coquette of a creature never sat beside me on a 
 fair summer s day. 
 
 " Ah, Walter, you are slandering me ungallantly," 
 she exclaims now, as I read her the above sentence in 
 manuscript. 
 
 " Sweet Mabel, every lady is at heart a little bit of a 
 coquette and you cannot deny it." 
 
 " But what do you think of gentlemen, you shabby 
 old fellow?" 
 
 " Do not bother me over my story, dear Mabel." 
 
 I scarcely know whether Mabel was beautiful or not. 
 I never saw anything but her eyes, so soft ! and yet a 
 most enchanting wildness as if the spirit of her 
 Indian grandmother had come from the grand old 
 woods and cataracts, and the broad, free, and beautiful 
 prairies, and asserted her spiritual supremacy over 
 Mabel s cultivated nature. 
 
 "Walter, you are a prozy old dreamer." 
 
 "Beshrew me ! Mabel, sweet, what is the memory of 
 early dreams but the spiritual presence of better things 
 in a material after life ?" 
 
 " Go on ! go on ! you are so dull." 
 
 Mabel knew everything as if by instinct. She read 
 everybody as if by necromancy or astrology. Yet 
 although she knew so much, and read so many, every 
 body loved Mabel. One said she was so queer, another 
 thought her funny. It was universally acknowledged
 
 MABEL AND JORAM. 193 
 
 that Mabel could keep a secret, and this gave her a 
 world of confidants, so that she knew everybody s 
 secrets, my own, always, of course. Yet Mabel was 
 pure in heart, and she loved everything really pure and 
 beautiful, with a perfect love, a vehement love, a love 
 that made her happy, a love that knit her to me for ever. 
 
 But then, how Mabel would ridicule everybody and 
 everything. "No one knew it except we at home. In 
 truth, nobody knew Mabel at all. No one thought that 
 such a quiet child could be the life of the house : no 
 one dreamed that she chirped and sang from daylight 
 to midnight : no one knew that she could dance on her 
 tip-toes, jump over chairs and a- top of tables, and per 
 form all the tricks of the gymnasium. 
 
 So you perceive what a nondescript I have to 
 describe, for nobody . either knew anything or would 
 believe anything about her. They thought her prudent, 
 believed in her, confided in her, trusted in her, and she 
 was true to them all, and laughed at them all, and loved 
 them all but alas! not as all would have her love 
 them! 
 
 Thus she grew up a little charming Sphinx, a riddle 
 to us all, and a fairy delight. Mabel was quite 
 independent in her notions ; neither Maud nor even her 
 father could judge for her, and she believed in them to 
 the skies, too; yet she had a sharp, joyous, innocent 
 way of seeing and judging for herself, that, I must 
 confess, though her conclusions were often at war with 
 my own, amused me beyond measure. 
 
 9
 
 194 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 I wish I could have reduced Mabel to a sober, steady 
 love for me. She was as capricious as any weather 
 cock. She would have her little flirtations with her 
 eyes that s as far as Mabel ever went in that quarter 
 of female frailty so that her eyes were quite celebrated 
 all over the city. The awkward country student, the 
 pale young Presbyterian divine, with lemon-colored 
 hair, the licentiate at the Catholic Presbytery, with dark 
 eyes, the shabby genteel lawyer, the dandified young 
 dry-goods man, the queer old bachelor judge, the 
 youngest boy and the last beau from the East each 
 vowed there was a peculiar meaning in Mabel s eyes 
 which he alone knew how to solve the deluded self- 
 flatterers, as if /did not know who alone Mabel Latrobe 
 deeply loved, notwithstanding her caprices and shy 
 flirtations. 
 
 Joram Jumps had not been at Mrs. March s house a 
 week, ere he had fallen a victim to her eyes ; and Joram 
 was as confident of his power of pleasing and of his 
 conquest over Mabel, as young gentlemen frequently 
 are who have had but little intercourse with the sex. 
 
 Joram Jumps was a source of endless fun to Mabel, 
 although to save her very life, she could not help using 
 her conquering eyes on the tall, green sapling. She 
 would mimic him to the life though of course not so 
 rude as do -this before his face. Mabel never wounded 
 the feelings of a dear creature in the world. The sly mis 
 chief would set all sorts of little traps into which Joram 
 would fall, and the catastrophe appear so very like acci-
 
 MABEL AND JOBAM. 195 
 
 dent that Joram never suspected any one, and least of 
 all the quiet little tender-eyed Mabel. 
 
 Joram often stumbled over objects in the dark hall 
 going to bed, when the lights were all extinguished, 
 accidentally, of course. Joram sometimes complained 
 that Mrs. Bowes had made his bed in a very uncommon 
 manner. Joram found notes in the post-office from 
 young damsels dying for him. But Joram always 
 brought these soft missives straight to Mabel, and to 
 please her in a delicate way, would cut them to pieces 
 with his jack-knife and throw them on the fire in her 
 presence. He never to this day has suspected Mabel 
 Latrobe of all the flattering attentions bestowed upon 
 him from such diverse quarters. 
 
 Joram was not destitute of natural ability. He pro 
 gressed rapidly at Dr. Oliphant s, but now his studies 
 begin to flag. In truth, Joram is in love. Mabel sees 
 it, we all know it, and Mabel is the only one that does 
 not seem to enjoy it after all. Mabel grows grave, alas, 
 has she lost her heart likewise ? No, Mabel is really too 
 good to enjoy any one s misery, and Jorarn is evidently 
 in tribulation. Yet the son of stout Farmer Jumps is 
 no weak dangler, no persecuting step-slave. Joram is 
 independent in his feelings. 
 
 On one evening, seeing Mabel alone in the library 
 after tea, he glided in, and seated himself stiffly. He 
 closed his hands on his lap devoutly, and then folded 
 his arms across his breast thoughtfully, and then clasped 
 his hands behind his head boldly, and then coughed a 
 short, embarrassed, starting cough, as if not sure the
 
 196 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 train would follow ; the little lamps shone in the far end 
 of the tunnel with uncommon briskness. 
 
 " Miss Latrobe !" at length he said, bending a trifle 
 the stiff shirt collar 011 the side towards that demure 
 young lady. " Have the pleasure spending this evening 
 with you alone ?" 
 
 Miss Latrobe was fairly frightened to death. Then 
 she thought she would comply, merely to see what this 
 oddity would say and do. But she was a very coward 
 in all but eye skirmishing. The onset she dreaded in 
 fact she had never thought over such foolish things. 
 And so Miss Latrobe vouchsafed, after a little hesitation, 
 during which Joram Jumps sat on pins and needles, 
 without moving a muscle the following reply : 
 
 " I came in for a moment only, Mr. Joram, and am 
 waiting for Miss Maud. I I have a little engage 
 ment with her for this evening." 
 
 Mabel ! Mabel ! what a fib ! Her very hesitation 
 and confusion betrayed it. 
 
 During the reply to his important and delicate request, 
 Joram changed his hands uneasily, and drew out his 
 handkerchief with abstraction, and on the conclusion 
 of Mabel s reply, he arose, faced squarely about, 
 stalked to the door, faced about again, looked from 
 afar towards his poor little frightened enemy, and as he 
 gave a petulant flirt with his handkerchief, exclaimed 
 
 l Don t care a darn, by Golden !" 
 
 Then the centre of the picture vanished from the 
 landscape.
 
 A DENOUEMENT. 197 
 
 CHAPTEK XX. 
 
 A DENOUEMENT. 
 
 KEADEK, had you ever a friend for whom you felt a 
 degree of responsibility " in certain circles?" If so was 
 not your friend sure to commit all his faux pas, say all 
 his silliest things, do his most awkward and extraordi 
 nary deeds in that very " certain circle ?" 
 
 Major Fontenoy was always my beau ideal of the 
 gentleman. The point was disputed by Mabel, who 
 preferred Allen, and by Guilford, who was too matter- 
 of-fact to enjoy the Major s sentimentality. 
 
 Even Maud smiled at him. "Walter felt responsible 
 for his friend, and thought the apparent excess of senti 
 ment, nothing worse than a flowering of the Major s 
 exquisite nature. 
 
 " ]STor," said I, " is he sentimental on all occasions ; it 
 is here, in this house, beneath the eyes of Maud March, 
 that my dear old friend appears to so poor advantage." 
 
 But with all reasonings and all efforts on my part, the 
 good Major never seemed to do himself justice at Lilac 
 Cottage. In all other places the gallant soldier cap 
 tivated right and left. 
 
 "We were sitting one evening after a summer rain,
 
 198 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 upon the porch, enjoying the fresh fragrance of the 
 earth, and the awakened perfume of the flowers, when 
 Major Fontenoy came up the lawn. He advanced 
 towards us in a sprightly manner a little too sprightly 
 for his years the hypercritical Mabel thought. Thk 
 peculiarity was noticed afar. 
 
 "See!" said Guilford, smiling, "1 suppose Walter 
 would term that, graceful motion. 
 
 " No," replied Walter " the major never will be 
 graceful, or in any way himself, when Maud is within 
 view." 
 
 I went forward to meet him. 
 
 " How lovely the evening after a shower, hey !" said 
 my friend, as he drew near the ladies, and lifted his cap 
 handsomely. 
 
 " Yes, major," replied Mrs. March, " will you walk up 
 and join us ? we are all out enjoying the freshness." 
 
 " It is as sweet, 7 he said taking a seat, " as the breath 
 of cattle on the lea, hey Walter? your friend old 
 Brindle, hey !" 
 
 The breath of cattle is charming, yet altogether the 
 comparison did not quite suit some people are so fas 
 tidious. I warmly replied, " Yes sir," with a smile of 
 appreciation. 
 
 " What has the fair lady Maud been doing to-day ? 
 Sitting in her bower, hey !" 
 
 " Yes, major, if by bower you mean my school." 
 
 Maud was innocent of offence, yet the major blushed, 
 seeing how inapropos was this second comparison.
 
 A DENOUEMENT. 199 
 
 "Temple, I might say with more propriety, hey! 
 sweet goddess, hey !" 
 
 " No, no !" said Maud laughing, " I should rather say 
 plain old school-house." 
 
 She stepped down the porch, plucked a sweet pea 
 blossom, and handed it to Major Fontenoy. 
 
 The old gentleman joined the laugh, with his heart 
 full of simple ready glee. Then he grew silent. It was 
 only in Maud s presence the agreeable talker ever was 
 silent. 
 
 Guilford then spoke of meeting a soldier of the garri 
 son, who told him slily he had got on the sick list by 
 playing old soldier with the surgeon, and came down in 
 town to have his fun. 
 
 The major had an anecdote ready in a moment. 
 
 " Of course you all remember Surgeon Prim, stationed 
 here a few years ago, hey ! "Well, a soldier came into 
 the dispensary one morning with his tongue whitened 
 with chalk, hey. Doctor asked him what s the matter ? 
 Fever, sir, hey ! touching his hat, hey ! How do 
 you know that? Felt of my pulse, hey? Felt of 
 your own pulse, sir ! thundered out the doctor, hey ! 
 How dare you feel you own pulse ? Let me see 
 your tongue, hey ! The man showed his tongue ; 
 Much coated, much coated, said the doctor, hey ! 
 Then he drew a little of the whitening on the end of his 
 knife-blade, dropped a drop of acid fumed like slack 
 ing lime, hey? The doctor caught the man by the 
 throat, heigh ! and thrust him out of the office, hey !
 
 200 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 saying, Yoa are a rascal, hey ! you feel of your own 
 pulse, hey ! and coat your own tongue too, hey ! get 
 out of my office, hey ! 
 
 No one could resist one of the major s stories, his own 
 excitement and drollery seemed to make the dullest 
 story good. He never put " hey !" after a real inquiry, 
 and that made it appear the more ludicrous. 
 
 Of course we all laughed ; Mabel, as was her wont 
 on all such occasions, fairly shouted. 
 
 The conversation turned next on books. The major 
 was a great reader. He kept us supplied with the 
 latest works. On the whole, what with his books and 
 his beautiful cameos, that payment affair, his flowers 
 and his fun, we all loved the major though in different 
 degrees, and for various reasons. 
 
 "Does Maud love the major?" Guilford inquired of 
 me, as we went around the outside of the house towards 
 the barn, for a look at Brindle s calf. 
 
 " Why do you inquire of me?" 
 
 " Oh, you are something of a connoisseur in love 
 matters; Dulcinea, you know!" 
 
 " Oh ! ahem, yes ; I don t think the major has asked 
 her." 
 
 " Then why so many costly gifts ?" 
 
 "Because he can t help it, I suppose/ 
 
 " But why does Maud take them ?" 
 
 " Why, for the same reason, I suppose." 
 
 " You may think as you please, Walter, but I never 
 did quite believe in these purely disinterested Platonic
 
 A DENOUEMENT. 201 
 
 affairs. Wherever there s so much smoke, you may be 
 sure of fire." 
 
 " He think of getting married !" I cried. " Non 
 sense ! his one hand, an old bachelor, at least forty-five. 
 Nonsense ! nonsense !" 
 
 " I hope it is so, that s all. Let s go in." 
 
 Mrs. March had retired to attend to household 
 matters, and Mabel had gone to tell Bowes Major Fon- 
 tenoy s last story, and so it fell out on that fair, fresh 
 summer s evening, that the major found himself alone 
 with Maud March. 
 
 They rose from the porch and walked about the 
 flower beds, and among the rose-bushes, and beneath 
 the lilac trees, and the leaves and flowers all around 
 them distilled sweet odors as they passed. 
 
 " The flowers seem to know you, Miss Maud, hey ?" 
 
 " Yes, they ought to, major ; I train them, you know." 
 
 "Yery good, hey? very good, hey?" I dare say 
 you train them even to talk, too, hey ?" 
 
 " Certainly !" answered Maud, laughingly. 
 
 "Then Miss Maud dear Maud tell me, hey! 
 what you would have this sweet pea blossom say to 
 Major Fontenoy, hey !" 
 
 For the first time in her life, my sister attributed a 
 feeling to the poor old officer, stronger than friendship. 
 And yet, thought she, the next moment, how could such 
 a thing be ? Her passion of self-depreciation drove out 
 the suspicion. 
 
 " It must be a mistake," thought Maud.
 
 202 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " If the little flower," she now hastened to say, " does 
 not speak volumes of gratitude for my mother, and love 
 for all the rest of us, I ll not own it as my gift." 
 
 They now stood in a closely shaded part of the 
 garden. 
 
 " Love, Miss Maud, hey ! love, hey !" 
 
 " Yes," faltered she, "such love as" 
 
 The major dropped upon his knees. He took the 
 listless hand of the young lady in his own, and while he 
 held over it the poor maimed arm, he poured forth his 
 love. 
 
 " Love me, hey ! Love me, hey ! Behold me at 
 your feet, delighted, hey!" 
 
 Maud struggled in bewilderment. 
 
 " Beautiful ! lovely ! angel ! Maud, hey ! My heart 
 has been yours for years ! long, sweet years, hey !" 
 
 "With difficulty the afflicted girl wrested her hand 
 away. Covering her face she exclaimed 
 
 " Oh ! Major Fontenoy ! dear old friend, this is 
 indeed painful, unexpected, too bad ! too bad !" 
 
 Bursting into tears, she left him, and hastened into the 
 cottage. 
 
 The moon looks calmly down. It shines upon the 
 flower that has closed its petals since the god of day, 
 its life and light are gone. It reaches through the leafy 
 covering where the bird sleeps securely and fondly with 
 its loving mate. It discloses the bare stem on the lilac 
 tree, where spring blossoms have fallen off, and left a 
 withered thing. It lights up the dew-drops hanging on
 
 A D E N O U E M E N T . 203 
 
 the point of a thorn projecting from a beautiful rose. 
 It sees the grass covering the earth where hopes lie 
 buried. 
 
 And down through the vista of the lawn, behold, 
 shrinking beneath the friendly shade, one goeth with a 
 maimed hand and a blighted heart ! 
 
 Alas, Major Fontenoj, it is indeed too bad ! too 
 bad!
 
 204 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXI. 
 
 MILLBROOK. 
 
 OUR path towards the bush went by a beautiful farm 
 through which ran a winding rivulet, overlooked by a 
 little green bank near the roadside. In the spring time 
 this bank was carpeted with a multitude of wild flow 
 ers, dandelions, aster flowers, violets, and anemones. It 
 was canopied overhead by the profuse branches of a 
 grove of young butternut trees, up and along which 
 the fox grape climbed and trailed its vines, forming many 
 a graceful festoon. 
 
 Here it was often our delight to pause as we strolled 
 out on pleasant Sunday afternoons after old Brindle 
 Guilford could not leave his business on week-days. To 
 sit or lie here on the grass and build air-castles, each in 
 his own way, was for years our romance and delight. 
 
 " Come, "Walter," said Guilford on one of these 
 memorable times, as we lay extended at full length, 
 with straw hats covering our faces from the sun, " come ! 
 let your kite fly !" 
 
 It was no sooner suggested, than Fancy took wing. 
 Away it soared into regions of love, religion and poetry, 
 changing almost momentarily, with capricious humor.
 
 MILLBROOK. 205 
 
 "But," said Guilford, "come down a little from the 
 sixth and seventh heavens : you are to be a soldier." 
 
 " Ah, yes," and Fancy took a fresh start, careered 
 through an ideal life, as little like probability as possi 
 ble, and insensibly gained an apex on some pink cloud, 
 silver trumpet in hand, blowing a blast of mingled 
 fame and philanthropy. 
 
 Then said Guilford, laughing in his hearty, pleasant 
 way 
 
 "Walter! Walter! you are the least belligerent 
 knight-errant I ever knew !" 
 
 " Brother," replied Walter, " I would draw sword to 
 deliver damsels, conquer Palestine, or overthrow oppres 
 sion in any form." 
 
 " Dare say ! dare say ! but by herald and flag, or 
 rather by poem or metaphor !" 
 
 " I hope, Guilford, you don t doubt my courage ?" 
 
 " No, but I do doubt your common sense." 
 
 " Common sense !" I cried, resentfully, " there never 
 was a good cause, or mighty achievement yet, but had 
 to encounter common sense as its enemy." 
 
 " Do you know why ?" quoth Guilford. 
 
 "Tell me if you can." 
 
 " Because common sense is a machinist, genius an 
 inventor ; common sense looks to the means, genius to 
 the end." 
 
 " Yes," cried I, " all things are possible to genius, all 
 things impossible to common sense. Your common 
 sense is born with a no in his mouth."
 
 206 8HOEPAO RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 "There is something in that, "Walter. Genius points 
 the way to common sense. Common sense clears the 
 way for genius." 
 
 " "Well, well, Guilford, what would you have me 
 think of? what do?" 
 
 "Tell me first your motives in seeking "West Point? 
 "What preparation are you making? How much mathe 
 matics have you got in your genius ? Can you govern 
 mea? How would your nerves stand fire? Do you 
 think your soldiers can hear you? Jump up now and 
 give a command." 
 
 " Anything to please common sense," I said, rising. 
 
 " Shoulder arms !" 
 
 "Pretty good," said Guilford, laughing; "you ve 
 frightened off the bobolink." 
 
 " Charge bayonet !" 
 
 " Better yet." 
 
 " By regiment, right wheel !" 
 
 "Yes, yes, by regiment; but begin by squad or 
 platoon a long time before you will command higher." 
 
 " By squad by squad 
 
 " Pshaw !" I exclaimed, " I would rather wheel the 
 world into line by kingdoms and empires !" 
 
 Guilford roared with laughter, and said, "begone, 
 brave army, and don t kick up a row ! Now for your 
 views on the subject I have mentioned, Cadet Walter." 
 
 The Dreamer was silent. 
 
 The Doer spoke. 
 
 "The chief object, the great demand of your nature
 
 MILLBROOK. 207 
 
 is education. West Point will afford this so far as 
 elementary books may go. Then, I ve no doubt it is 
 your honest wish to do all the good you can in the 
 world that is, provided your wild oats are all sown. 
 Now the army, it appears to me, affords as ready a field 
 for cultivation, as fruitful a soil for tillage, as any other 
 field in life." 
 
 " How may one do good in the army, pray 2" 
 
 Monsieur Common Sense went on. 
 
 " By example the silent magnetism of life, far more 
 powerful, perhaps, than the electric shock of astonishing 
 doctrines." 
 
 " I must confess," said "Walter, " that to astonish 
 would not be disagreeable." 
 
 " Those who strive to astonish the world, most gene 
 rally succeed that is, the world is astonished at their 
 folly!" 
 
 "Walter now grew weary of the conversation. His 
 notions of philanthropy were rather vague, and tended 
 more to speculative enjoyment than to practical opera 
 tion. 
 
 " ISTow, Guilford, I ve flown my kite. Suppose you 
 let yours slip ?" 
 
 It was near sun-down, we were sitting upon the bank, 
 enjoying the beauties of the landscape. 
 
 " Do you see that farm-house $" asked Guilford. 
 
 " What, the miller s ?" 
 
 "Yes. I would exchange all other earthly success 
 for the ownership of that habitation and these green
 
 208 BHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 acres. I would ask no better fortune than just to live 
 out my days here the mill below clicking in my ears 
 to look out upon the green meadows at our feet, with 
 their pyramid haystacks the grand old oaks and syca 
 mores looming around me like guardian giants those 
 waving fields of grain the white sheep dotting the 
 hills sloping down to the brook the cattle yonder more 
 precious to me than Egyptian Apis the barns the 
 poultry the orchard this rivulet a silver thread 
 upon which to string my necklace of jewels grant 
 me these, with my mother to dwell in yon house, and 
 you to live in a cottage of your own upon this very 
 bank" 
 
 " Large enough for a library ?" I cried. 
 
 "Yes, with you over here I would be the happiest 
 man in America ! "Walter." 
 
 "But Maud and Mabel what s to become of them?" 
 
 " Mabel !" my brother Guilford uttered abstractedly. 
 
 " Yes Maud and Mabel," I repeated. 
 
 " Oh ! I d like a fortune for their sakes, or rather for 
 Tier sake" Guilford looked at me in a puzzling 
 manner. 
 
 "As for Maud," continued he, "she should marry 
 Allen, and I would buy a library for him a law 
 library." 
 
 Guilford then proceeded, as we arose and started 
 away after old Brindle, to speak of the present. 
 
 It was now nearly three years since Guilford became 
 shopboy. His experiences had been various. His first
 
 MILLBROOK. 209 
 
 employer was a grocer. His wages twelve dollars a 
 month. Mr. Sortem was a pinching tradesman, wore a 
 pin head on his shoulders, and you would think a pin 
 hole in his bosom ; for his heart was as diminutive as his 
 head. This man was a widower, and had a little needle 
 of a daughter she was so sharp tongued. My mother 
 took her as a lodger, but she darted out so dreadfully 
 her little fiery serpent of a tongue, that Mabel was 
 driven half crazy, and my mother was obliged to send 
 word to Mr. Sortem that it was inconvenient to keep his 
 daughter. This enraged that gentleman, and in retalia 
 tion Guilford was discharged. 
 
 He then went to measuring tape and ribbons in a 
 small dry goods establishment, a little further up from 
 the market. Here he lived with a worthy gentleman, 
 who treated him very well, but the skeleton now was an 
 elder brother who had crazy fits, and exercised, sane or 
 insane, unbounded influence over Guilford s master. It 
 happened one day that the young clerk found a lost 
 pocket-book in the street. It was advertised, and no 
 owner appearing, the skeleton took possession. Boys 
 are supposed to have no natural rights of course be 
 sides this was a sort of supernatural affair. Guilford 
 had spirit to leave the establishment, and found employ 
 ment better suited to his early tastes. He is now a clerk 
 in the warehouse of the great steamboat owner, Mr. 
 Mayflower. Guilford never has felt that high respect 
 which is due shopboys " Little fellows," said Guilford, 
 " who for the sake of dressing well pinch their souls as
 
 210 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 well as their bodies." It must be borne in. mind that he 
 was prejudiced. 
 
 Nothing is wanting now but the prospect of some day 
 retiring on a farm, to render Guilford March " the 
 happiest man in America." This end to attain is 
 the ultimate hope, the grand climacteric of his day 
 dreams. 
 
 Besides supporting himself, Guilford paid no little 
 pecuniary tribute to the lady paramount, our excellent 
 mother, to secure whom in the unembarrassed possession 
 of Lilac Cottage was the first object in the youth s 
 heart. 
 
 " But one more payment to make, "quoth Walter, as 
 the two went searching the wood, pausing occasionally 
 to hark for the sound of a cow-bell. 
 
 " But one more, and then the cut off lot to repur 
 chase." 
 
 " If we can /" said Guilford, emphatically. 
 
 "Why may we not?" I inquired. 
 
 " The gentleman who bought it has gone away, leav. 
 ing his business in the hands of Maud s friend, Mr. 
 Magroy." 
 
 " What, Old Growl " 
 
 " Yes, Allen told me so yesterday. He came down 
 to the counting room." 
 
 " But were we not promised the refusal of it ?" 
 
 " Mr. Magroy may interpose some friendly obstacle," 
 said Guilford ironically. 
 
 " That old man is our evil genius !" I cried.
 
 MILLBKOOK. 211 
 
 At this moment I had taken hold of a branch lying 
 across the path, and was drawing it back in order to 
 pass by. The branch broke and I fell. 
 
 " Guilford !" I demanded, with increased wrath, rising 
 from the earth, " if you had the power, to what fate 
 would you consign the persecutor of our house, the 
 maligner of Maud and mother ? Would you not hang 
 the wretch ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Would you not force him to do justice where he has 
 wronged? To take Allen back ?" 
 
 "No! No!" 
 
 " AVould you not reduce him to rags ? fling him on 
 the wide wide world, an outcast and a beggar ? a by 
 word a reproach a hissing ? a " 
 
 "No Walter. He should marry Mrs. Polyphemia 
 Fidgets !" 
 
 The distant though welcome tinkle of old Brindle s 
 bell was heard. We left the wood ere long, and the 
 trees with their briarean arms arched over the little cow- 
 path behind us. The leafy wilderness grew musical 
 with the twitter of insects and solemn toll of night birds. 
 The sun had already sunk upon the western prairies, 
 where the Fringed Gentian closed her blue hood, and 
 watched like a nun in the chapel of the dead. Nature 
 lay down in. stately repose. 
 
 And Doer and Dreamer went pensively homeward, 
 passing from the present into the future.
 
 212 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 MAJOK FONTENOY VISITS ME. MAGKOY. 
 
 But gentle heaven 
 
 Cut short all intermission : front to front 
 Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself. 
 
 MACBETH. 
 
 AUTUMN came with its crimson-spotted leaves and 
 Indian summer sky, a beautiful, hazy, smoky, dreamy, 
 indolent carnival for all the forces of nature. Night 
 and day seemed to have crossed orbits and confounded 
 each other, or like two tired wrestlers, were lying down 
 peacefully together. The clouds seemed toppling over 
 with drowsiness, like the dizzy old Leaning Tower at 
 Pisa, or those ancient minarets whose bases are wearing 
 away by the wasting flood of Egypt s Nile. The red 
 windmills on the river shore looked as if standing 
 
 O 
 
 beneath an incessant rain of dim fire. My body went 
 about tenantless of its spirit, which methought was like 
 wise absent in cloudland, dreaming with sister spirits. 
 
 The thought, the possibility even of leaving home, 
 rendered doubly dear to me the enjoyment of my favo 
 rite season in its favorite haunts. I lay down by my 
 father s grave, in the long, dry grass. The banks of the
 
 . MAJOR FONTENOY VISITS MR. MAGEOT. 213 
 
 river and tlie sound of the woods where the leaves 
 falling made music like that of showers on straw- 
 thatched cottages grew sweeter and sweeter every 
 day, as with melancholy pleasure I paced along. The 
 thought of leaving Mabel weighed a little upon my 
 listless spirits. 
 
 "If I do go, dear Mabel," said Walter to that 
 beloved creature, as we walked the lawn together one 
 afternoon, " if I do go, I never shall forget my little 
 madcap sweetheart." 
 
 Mabel changed color and looked away 
 
 " Ah !" thought I. " her grief is great." 
 
 " You may be sure of my constancy, Mabel ; I shall 
 be ever true to thee." 
 
 " You will have many things to think of more import 
 ant than a little girl," she said, still looking away. 
 
 " No ! nothing so sweet, no one so dear as you. In 
 the palaces of the great, on the field of renown, at the 
 top of Fame s ladder, Mabel shall claim the first place 
 in my heart." 
 
 Walter s manner was a graceful blending of loftiness 
 with condescension. But it was not so fascinating in 
 its effects upon Mabel as one might suppose. 
 
 "Had you not better begin to think of your mathe 
 matics, Walter?" said she in a quizzical manner. In 
 another moment she had fled from my side, and van 
 ished into the house. 
 
 "Mathematics!" I exclaimed. "The valley of dry 
 bones ! twill be the death of me some day."
 
 214 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " My thoughts now were fully turned on West Point. 
 The son of Mr. Hasting s political friend had failed, 
 leaving a vacancy. M. Latrobe was going to the 
 United States Senate the coming winter, and promised 
 to urge my appointment. 
 
 Guilford has gone up rapidly in the esteem of Mr. 
 Mayflower. He has just been promoted to chief clerk. 
 He has been able to assist h:s eldest brother, John 
 March, in the pursuit of his legal studies, though John 
 requires little ere long, none at all, as he will soon go 
 into practice. 
 
 Townspeople began to remark 
 
 " The Marches are certainly a rising family." 
 
 As for the coming payment, six hundred dollars, there 
 will be no difficulty with reference to that ; for between 
 Guilford, Maud, and Mrs. March s savings during 
 the year, it is to be paid when due. Our hearts swelled 
 with emotions of pride and pleasure as we thought the 
 great burden of our lives, especially that of our mother, 
 was so soon to be rolled away. 
 
 But one thing seemed wanting to fill our cup to over 
 flowing the happiness of the unselfish, conscientious, 
 glorious Maud. And even here an unexpected light 
 came breaking in just at this time, cheering us or at 
 least me, for Guilford was less sanguine with hopes for 
 the dear lily of the valley. 
 
 There are some souls in this rough world who are 
 capable of a height of magnanimity inconceivable to the 
 vulgar. Major Fontenoy, dear reader, was one of
 
 MAJOR FONTENOY VISITS MK. MAGROY. 215 
 
 those souls. He no sooner learned the secret with 
 reference to Maud and the Magroys than, to use a mili 
 tary phrase, he advanced to the rescue. 
 
 "I will see Old Growl myself, Walter, hey!" 
 said he. 
 
 The buoyant spirit of this noble man, in the immor 
 tality of its vital goodness, enabled him to bear the 
 burden of his grief more lightly than one might look for 
 in a man of feeling. 
 
 A sudden grey streak about his temples, showed like 
 the ashes of unquenchable fire smouldering beneath, or 
 that the lightning had passed. Beyond this there was 
 no change in the outward man. The bouquets, the beau 
 tiful cameos, the music and books came as ever from 
 the " unknown friend " alas ! never to be known by 
 dearer name ! 
 
 I had been brought more into the company of 
 Major Fontenoy of late than usual. He claimed the 
 right to fit me for West Point. We became as knight 
 and squire, rather than master and pupil. This intimacy 
 led to his pouring out his secrets to Walter, and to that 
 youngster telling the excellent bachelor, with an 
 attempted fine stroke of consolation, how matters stood 
 in the heart of Maud. 
 
 One day then, in the hazy October, behold Major 
 Fontenoy at the entrance of the kennel. 
 
 A knock. 
 
 A growl " Come in !"
 
 216 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " Good morning Mr. Magroy, hey !" 
 
 " Good morning ! good morning. Take a chair 
 Major Fontenoy, take a chair sir." 
 
 " Thank you sir, hey ! The plum trees begin to 
 look bare, hey ! in the sere and yellow leaf, hey ! 
 Melancholy, melancholy, hey!" 
 
 " Course of nature, major, course of nature ; no use 
 going to bed because leaves fall so Dean Swift thought, 
 you know." 
 
 The major was pleased at finding the canny Scot in 
 so pleasant a mood. 
 
 " Hearts like yours so stoutly bound up, are not easily 
 disturbed, Mr. Magroy, hey ! but with me, destitute of 
 ties of any fleshly nature, with no soft eyes to look into 
 mine for sympathy ; the leaves sir are children, hey ! 
 my only children, hey !" 
 
 " Not so much to be pitied major, after all. Real 
 children are a bother, sir. Kay, friend Fontenoy," he 
 added, leaning over the table, and slightly stamping his 
 cane on the door, "children are a grief! a grief, sir! a 
 grief, a grief." 
 
 " Ah yes, hey ! But might there not be new 
 channels dug to turn the waters around the work, hey ! 
 imprisoned heart, hey ! so that pity and forgive 
 ness may march to the attack of grief, and deliver the 
 heart from its dungeon, hey !" 
 
 " You allude to a sore subject, a sore subject, Major 
 Fontenoy. Pardon me, sir, but we will leave it."
 
 MAJOR FONTENOT VISITS MR. MAGROT. 217 
 
 " Oh, ask pardon, hey I" 
 
 " Yes, sir !" said Mr. Magroy, looking dark already 
 from the pine forest about his eyes. 
 
 The good old gentleman was confused, not knowing 
 which of the two was asking pardon. The gentlemanly 
 major was quick to detect the dilemma. 
 
 " I ask pardon myself, hey ! ha ! ha ! Beg pardon, 
 hey! ha! ha!" 
 
 Though the major still laughed, Mr. Magroy did not 
 cease to frown, not yet set right. 
 
 "T)oyou beg pardon, or do /beg pardon, sir?" he 
 thundered, at length. 
 
 " I beg yours with all my heart, my dear sir, with all 
 my heart, hey !" 
 
 " Granted, granted," said Mr. Magroy, gruffly. " I 
 always thought you a perfect gentleman. Officers of 
 the army generally are, sir." 
 
 " I am afraid," said the major slowly, " my dear Mr. 
 Magroy, that I am about to jeopardize the reputation of 
 the class which you have so politely complimented, 
 hey! 
 
 "Yes, I mean to compliment them, sir." The learned 
 Theban did not yet quite perceive the major s pecu 
 liarity. 
 
 " Be good enough, sir, to try me now," he said, in a 
 manner which encouraged the major at once. 
 
 " Well sir, your son, hey !" 
 
 " My son, sir, what of him, anything happened ! but 
 no matter, he is no longer my son. They have robbed 
 
 10
 
 218 SHOEPAO RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 me of my Joseph, and carried him away into Egypt," 
 the tender hearted father half-sobbed. 
 
 " He is a splendid fellow, hey !" 
 
 "He is a disobedient, rebellious brat, sir!" exclaimed 
 the classic Mr. Magroy, very unexpectedly to the diplo 
 matist, who had just bgan to flatter himself with his 
 progress in this delicate negotiation. 
 
 "Were you aware, dear Mr. Magroy," asked the 
 major, " that in keeping your son under the ban of your 
 displeasure, you are breaking the heart of one of the 
 divinest of human beings ?" 
 
 " Breaking whose heart 2" demanded Mr. Magroy, 
 with a weak glance out of his strong eye. 
 
 " The heart of the daughter of one who was once your 
 friend, hey! I will not say more, hey !" 
 
 Now the fact that Mr. March had assisted Mr. Magroy 
 when a poor man, was a lasting monument to his disgrace 
 for Mr. Magroy the rich, thought poverty a disgrace 
 and this unhappy fact always enraged Archibald 
 Magroy, LL.D. At least so we easily accounted for 
 the mystery. 
 
 " The Marches ! the detestable Marches !" he shouted 
 jumping to the floor, and setting cane and feet in 
 motion. "The cause of all my troubles, the Egyptians 
 that stole my Joseph. I demand of you, sir, a professsed 
 gentleman, sir, what right have you, sir, to meddle in 
 this business, sir ?" 
 
 He stopped to shake his cane in the major s face 
 across the table.
 
 MAJOR FONTENOY VISITS ME. MAGKOY. 219 
 
 " Gentleman ! by St. Andrew no gentleinan are 
 
 you." 
 
 Again he went on stamping 011 the innocent floor, as 
 if it were his enemy. Suddenly he cried out more 
 violently 
 
 " To enter a man s house, a man s castle, sir, and 
 remind him not only of his domestic misfortunes, but sir ! 
 of his sir his poverty, his youthful folly, his disgrace, 
 his beggary, sir." 
 
 The major had risen from his chair, and calmly yet 
 sternly confronted the madman before him. 
 
 " Sir," said he, " sir, you are making a fool of your 
 self, hey !" 
 
 ; This in my own house, sir ? to me, sir ? villain ! low 
 born " 
 
 " Who are you, sir ?" interrupted Major Fontenoy, 
 " that dare attempt to stain the escutcheon of one born 
 and bred a gentleman a Virginia gentleman, sir ? And 
 who, I demand too, sir, are you, that claim to be above 
 the decencies of life, common gratitude for favors, for 
 aid notoriously the groundwork of your fortune ? And 
 who, sir" the major s voice rose and his manner in 
 creased in sternness " who, pray, are you, sir, that dare 
 to profane the name of mother and daughter in every 
 respect your superiors and, sir, so far above the con 
 duct you have lyingly attributed to them, as to have 
 renounced all intercourse with your son, and what is still 
 more to their credit for true delicacy of feeling, have 
 never made that mention of your conduct which its
 
 220 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 infamy deserves. I will proclaim it, sir. Why! were 
 you not an old man, sir, this single arm " 
 
 Astonished, rebuked, alarmed, Mr. Magroy had 
 listened to this address, striving momentarily to inter 
 rupt it ; but, yielding to the resistless energy of the true 
 gentleman before him, he had quailed again and held 
 his peace, till now he sank down in his chair with a 
 groan, uttering faintly: 
 
 " Oh ! God of Israel, Esau my eldest brother has 
 came up against me, de-liv-er me." 
 
 And the wretched old man gasped with terror. 
 
 Major Fontenoy stood regarding him a while in silence 
 and undisguisedly contemptuous pity. He then rang 
 the bell, Mrs. Fidgets appeared so quickly that the 
 major thought her within surprising proximity. Fidgets, 
 who had heard the greater part of the conversation, 
 assumed a look of innocence, and running up to Mr. 
 Magroy with an officious zeal, cried out, 
 
 " Good lud ! sir, what is the matter ?" 
 
 Despite Fidgets affection, her countenance expressed 
 so little pity and sympathy, that the major, with a look 
 of disgust, ordered her contemptuously to bring in some 
 wine and water for her master. 
 
 On her speedy return with the required beverage, her 
 master drank with the docility of a child, and sat up in 
 his chair refreshed. 
 
 " Leave, hey !" said the major to Mrs. Fidgets, as 
 she lingered caressingly over her master. 
 
 The woman obeyed.
 
 MAJOR FONTENOY VISITS MR. MAQROY. 221 
 
 "I am very sorry, Mr. Magroy," spoke the major, 
 again sitting down, "that circumstances should have 
 brought about this scene, hey !" 
 
 " Please proceed, Major Fontenoy, proceed," replied 
 Mr. Magroy meekly, sipping his wine and water. 
 
 "My object in calling, sir, was in a friendly way to 
 reconcile you to your son, the best young man I ever 
 knew, hey ! as well as to set the conduct of other per 
 sons, the subject of our late conversation, in a fair light 
 before you, hey ! you will please perceive that I had 
 no vulgar desire of meddling with your affairs, hey 1" 
 
 " I will apologize," exclaimed the old man in a whin 
 ing tone. 
 
 " No apologies necessary, hey !" continued the major, 
 somewhat gentler in manner, and less dry and cold in 
 tone. 
 
 " What I wish, sir, is more ample satisfaction, 
 hey!" 
 
 " What, sir, do you want !" demanded Mr. Magroy 
 peevishly for an LL.D. 
 
 " That you heal these unhappy differences by a simple 
 act of justice." 
 
 Mr. Magroy sipped his wine and water, and tapped 
 his cane on the table in silent abstraction a long time. 
 Finally he said, 
 
 " Major Fontenoy, you will pardon me for bringing 
 this neighborly conference to an end, sir. But if you 
 please, I will confer with the parties. In short, sir, I 
 would rather see Mrs. March herself."
 
 222 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 r Certainly, hey!" growled the major rising, "you 
 
 will promise me not to insult " 
 
 " Trust me for that, trust me for that. My honor for 
 
 that, sir!" 
 
 " Very well. Good morning, hey !" 
 
 " Good morning, good Major Fontenoy." 
 
 When the major related this scene to me he said, 
 
 " I m inclined to think the old fellow has some honor, 
 
 too, hey ! "Walter, hey !" 
 
 And the dear major did verily believe that everybody 
 
 had some honor. 
 
 I do not know but that he was right.
 
 MR. MAGROY HONORS LILAC COTTAGE. 223 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 MR. MAGROY HONORS LILAC COTTAGE. 
 
 " YES ; I don t know but lie was right," quoth I to 
 Guilford, " or else there s some mystery in it." 
 
 " Mighty little honor," quoth he. 
 
 " There may be some in his heart," said I. 
 
 " I don t believe in fire till I see either smoke or 
 blaze," said he. 
 
 " JSTot if you scent it out?" asked I, returning to the 
 rescue of charity. "The old fellow evinced shame at 
 least, and when Shame goes before, like a Nubian slave, 
 you may be certain the noble Roman, Honor follows 
 after." 
 
 At this moment, happening to look from the library, 
 through the lilac trees, upon the mottled lawn, who 
 should we behold but the old Scotsman coming over the 
 grass, stamping his cane, and looking down like Winter 
 trampling on the lingering train of Autumn. Guilford 
 seized his hat and departed for the warehouse. He met 
 Mr. Magroy. That good-natured gentleman stopped 
 and shook hands rather warmly I thought, for an evil 
 genius.
 
 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 The two parted, and Mr. Magroy s cane being heard 
 on the steps of the porch, I went to greet him welcome 
 a feeble welcome to be sure. 
 
 " Is Mistress March within ?" he asked. 
 
 Mr. Magroy sat down heavily in the arm-chair. 
 
 I called my mother. 
 
 Mr. Magroy arose and bowed profoundly. 
 
 My mother went up to him, and held out her hand in 
 a friendly manner. 
 
 " I am happy to see you once more in our house, sir." 
 
 "Ahem! yes, madam. I reciprocate. In fact, 
 madam, my heart is touched. There have been some 
 differences, madam, between our families, a long time : 
 yes, madam, a long, long time," and Mr. Magroy leaned 
 his breast on his hands, which covered each other and 
 the head of the cane, and looked fixedly at the fire 
 or something far beyond it. 
 
 " I hope, sir," said rny mother, " that the hour is at 
 hand when we shall resume our old neighborly inter 
 course. Yet, sir," she added, " the difference between 
 our circumstances in life " 
 
 " Say no more, madam, say no more. I ve been 
 thinking that all over, madam, on my bed, madam, in 
 my heart, away from that pest of a housekeeper," he 
 added fiercely. " But thank God ! that s ended." 
 
 My mother thought the distressed old gentleman 
 wandering in his unhappy mind. 
 
 "But I cannot live alone, madam. Is that tall, fine 
 boy your son, Mistress March ?"
 
 MR. MAGKOY HONORS LILAC COTTAGE. 225 
 
 " Yes, sir. Walter, Mr. Magroy. You have not met 
 
 since since " My mother faltered and glanced 
 
 reverently towards the picture of my father. 
 
 " No, no, Mistress March. Be good enough to 
 request the young gentleman a worthy, fine-faced boy 
 he looks please request him to withdraw." 
 
 My mother looked surprised ! " If you have any 
 matter to communicate to me, sir, do not mind Walter. 
 We have no secrets but what are common to my family." 
 
 Mr. Magroy looked a little blank, and then a little 
 displeased, and then somewhat embarrassed. He 
 turned on his chair. He changed his hands on his 
 cane. Finally a thought came and shook him by the 
 head. 
 
 He spoke. 
 
 " Well, madam, perhaps there is a slate or blackboard 
 that the young gentleman may find for me to write my 
 communication on, for madam, to save my life, I do not 
 feel strength for words. My heart has been wrung, 
 madam. I am a feeble old man, madam. I seek light, 
 consolation, and peace yes, let him get a slate or a 
 blackboard." 
 
 Walter suggested " paper." 
 
 " Ah! that will do quite a bright lad !" 
 
 I went to the desk, and drew thence a little folio an 
 whose pockets scraps of poetry were lodged and laid 
 it before Mr. Magroy, with some stiff old English 
 paper, such as we then used, and a pencil. 
 
 "This will do, my fine fellow, this will do." 
 
 10*
 
 220 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 He look the pencil, and after a moment s deliberation 
 wrote a few words, then handed the paper to mj mother. 
 
 Mrs. March handed it to me without looking at it. 
 
 " Head it, my son." 
 
 " Aloud, mother ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Mr. Magroy looked vexed, but held his peace. 
 
 The communication was as follows : 
 
 " Mrs. Fidgets =gone." 
 
 I read accordingly, 
 
 "Mrs. Fidget s equal to gone ;" and felt much pride, 
 too, in my newly acquired knowledge of algebraic terms. 
 
 " Never mind the sign of equality," he cried, with his 
 usual cane accompaniment. " Mrs. Fidgets is gone ! 
 madam." 
 
 Mrs. March said, " I am glad to hear it, Mr. Magroy. 
 I quite congratulate you." 
 
 Mr. Magroy took the paper again and wrote 
 
 " She abused my confidence, madam, she had designs 
 on me, she has lied to me about Allen, about you and 
 your worthy daughter ; and only last night, madam, she 
 bearded me, threatened me, Archibald Magroy, LL.D., 
 demanded a provision in my will or she would expose 
 me, for what, God only knows, madam. I rose in my 
 righteous indignation and drove her from my house 
 wish I had kicked her." 
 
 Over the last five words the pen had been drawn as 
 if the amiable gentleman had suddenly repented. 
 
 My mother read the communication this time, and
 
 ME. MAGROY HONORS LILAC COTTAGE. 227 
 
 handed it to "Walter, who read and returned it to Mr. 
 Magroy. 
 
 " I am very sorry," said Mrs. March. 
 
 " Sorry for whom ?" he asked abruptly 
 
 " For both of you, sir," replied the kind hearted lady. 
 
 " You have it in your power to console," was now 
 written. 
 
 Mrs. March wrote in reply. 
 
 " I would be happy in my humble way to oblige an 
 old neighbor." 
 
 " Thank you madam." The old gentleman paused, 
 handed the paper to my mother, who returned it in 
 silence. 
 
 A long time Mr. Magroy paused, with his chin now 
 fastened down to his knuckles, clasped over the head of 
 the cane. Two or three times he nodded approvingly 
 to himself or the fire then shook his head immediately 
 afterwards. At length he took paper and pencil and 
 wrote as follows : 
 
 " "Will you be my housekeeper?" 
 
 My mother s face crimsoned as she wrote in strong 
 characters, 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 Mr. Magroy read this reply without looking at my 
 mother. He made a peculiar gesture with his head 
 which I interpreted to mean 
 
 " Humph ! I thought so ! I thought so 1" 
 
 Then he suddenly wrote more freely, as if he had 
 thought of it before contingently, but now, decidedly.
 
 228 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Meantime my mother had risen from the lounge, the 
 color on her face deepened and darkened. There was 
 an angry, excited motion of her lips. Her bosom 
 heaved with emotion. She walked hurriedly towards 
 the door as if to flee from a pursuing enemy. Then, as 
 if changing her mind, she staggered to the window, 
 against the frame of which she leaned. 
 
 Mr. Magroy handed me the communication. I 
 handed it to my mother. Her appearance startled me. 
 Never in all her lone widowhood, never in lowest penury 
 and desperate distress, had I seen my mother look so 
 utterly woe-stricken as now. 
 
 " Oh God ! oh God 1" she uttered, " if thou hadst but 
 spared him but to save me this trial !" 
 
 I placed the paper in her hand. She struggled to 
 appear calm and control the passion and wretchedness 
 contending as it were for her very life. "With a blanched 
 cheek and quivering lip she read, 
 
 " I will forgive Allen, let him marry your daughter, 
 and settle on them my fortune, if you will be my wife 1" 
 
 " Never ! never !" murmured my mother. Her form 
 glided down the wall. I sprang towards her and caught 
 her ere she fell. 
 
 " Fiend !" I exclaimed, " fiend ! you have killed my 
 mother !" 
 
 "I have! I have ! oh God how innocently!" he 
 exclaimed in a wild, despairing voice. " I thought to 
 make amends for all, and by my rashness have murdered 
 the wife of my old benefacter, the only woman I "
 
 MB. MAGROY HONORS LILAC COTTAGE. 229 
 
 He hastened to assist me, but I brushed away his out 
 stretched hands and bore my mother to the lounge. 
 
 Bowes, and Maud, and Mabel, rushed into the library 
 at the violent ringing of the bell. 
 
 My mother s head lay in the lap of Maud, whose white 
 face and fair hair gave her the look of a statue. Mabel 
 was on her knees, weeping silently. Bowes was opening 
 the fastenings of my mother s dress. Yet Mr. Magroy 
 stirred not. 
 
 " Some water !" whispered Maud. I saw him as I 
 turned to bring water from the adjoining room. On my 
 return there he stood, stock still. I took him gently by 
 the arm. 
 
 " Old man go !" 
 
 I led him towards the door. 
 
 " My eon," he cried, as he raised his wan eyes to me, 
 " she s right, she s right." 
 
 I led him compassionately and tenderly down the steps 
 of the porch. 
 
 As he walked away with difficulty on his cane I over 
 heard him say, 
 
 "A wretch once more, a wanderer on the earth, a 
 childless, wifeless, friendless old fool Oh ! oh !"
 
 230 SHOEPAC KECOL LECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXIY. 
 
 JOHN MARCH IS ABOUT TO KISE AND BECOME A MAN OF THE 
 
 WORLD. 
 
 " CAMBRIDGE, November 30th. 
 "My DEAREST MOTHER: 
 
 " I crave a thousand pardons for my negligence 
 tliis fall I have been so busy. As my letters have 
 been hasty and mere scraps of notes to Guilford, Maud, 
 and Walter, I will now give you a connected account 
 of myself and my various doings since leaving Law 
 school. I had scarcely got up my shingle, as we say 
 West, ere the fall campaign for the presidential elec 
 tion began to rage in New England. The political 
 friends of my excellent patron and partner demanded 
 his services in the field. Detained at home by family 
 afflictions, he requested me to " take the stump" as we 
 say at home. Accordingly I commenced operations at 
 Cambridge, the scene of my college and mock court 
 achievements, such as they were ; made a happy hit ; my 
 fame was noised abroad through the Boston papers my 
 tour through New England, though laborious, was like a 
 triumph. I would say so to no one but you. My friends
 
 JOHN MARCH ABOUT TO RISE. 231 
 
 and the friends of Mr. Lucklaw, my partner, flatter me 
 that my efforts have had no little to do with the triumph 
 of our candidate in the New England States. 
 
 " Now comes another sort of story. 
 
 " My partner has a daughter, tolerably pretty, well- 
 educated, no fault to find, though no great personal 
 attractions. My attentions have not been lost upon her. 
 I have offered myself, and been accepted. The old 
 gent s approval warmly given, and I only wait your 
 approval to become one of the I will not say happi 
 est of men, for I have not staked my fate upon domestic 
 happiness but one of the most fortunate. 
 
 " How melancholy that I have always been forced to 
 forego by pecuniary straits, the pleasure of a visit 
 home ! The means for my electioneering tour, of 
 course, were furnished by political friends. Mr. Luck- 
 law has come down, or is to come down, handsomely. 
 His first gift in money will enable me to visit you, and 
 bring my bride. 
 
 " You must not expect too much. Remember she is 
 neither brilliant nor beautiful. But she is good, amiable, 
 affectionate, educated, and as you already know, last, 
 but not least rich. She is a good Episcopalian, so that 
 you will like that, although Maud having thought best 
 to be a Presbyterian, may find less congeniality. These 
 things make little difference to me yet awhile, till I get 
 my fortune and reputation made. But I thought you 
 women might feel an interest. (This part of John s 
 letter did not please.)
 
 232 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " You don t know how much effect any ordinary West 
 ern orator may produce in these parts. Accustomed to 
 prosy old fogies, the life and animation of young men 
 they are not much accustomed to listen to young men 
 excites their astonishment. 
 
 " How they wondered at my youth. I think my 
 policy will be to attach myself to the cause of young 
 men, and raise a crusade cry for their rights. Unless 
 one be a substantial business man of thirty-nine, or a 
 grave old professor, they think him nobody. The con 
 sequence is, that they are all behind the spirit of the 
 age. My public aim is to bring up young men to the 
 consciousness of their rights, their numbers, and their 
 power. Of course I shall lose nothing by having such 
 a party to support me. But so that the good of the 
 public is advanced I feel no scruple about advancing 
 my own interests. 
 
 " The health of both aunts is very good. Aunt Vir 
 ginia is a fine specimen of the old-school spinster lady. 
 Her society is as much sought after as ever. Aunt 
 Carrie sees well enough to do almost everything but 
 read and sew. But she thinks she would give up every 
 thing else now to enjoy them. Thus it is always. I 
 continue to live with them, although my office is in the 
 city. I owe everything to them, especially to Aunt 
 Virginia, who has been so ambitious for me. But 
 Carrie has taken best care of my clothes, and made me 
 read the Bible to her every day. I hope the day may 
 come when I can give better heed to the precious doc-
 
 JOHN MARCH ABOUT TO RISE. 238 
 
 trines she, and you, and Maud love so well. But like 
 everybody else who has said everything there was to 
 say, I am beginning to preach, so good night. God 
 bless you all. 
 
 "Thine, ever, 
 
 " JOHN."
 
 234 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTEK XXV. 
 
 THE YOUNG COMMODORE. 
 
 ON returning to his castle, did Mr. Magroy notice 
 Mrs. Polyphemia Fidgets face at the window ? Did he 
 see her shrink away ? Did the good man of the house 
 know that his worst enemy still presided over the con 
 cerns of that abode of peace and happiness ? 
 
 Mrs. Poly had but one eye, yet Mrs. Polyphemia saw 
 a long way. For instance, she saw that the illumination 
 of her master s mind concerning a variety of little 
 matters, was nothing more than a rift in the cloud, which 
 must soon close again, making darkness darker. Mean 
 time, she saw it was her policy to keep out of his way 
 she would soon render her services, her very presence, 
 nay, her counsels, necessary ; for even that massive, com 
 pact mind must put forth little tendrils, feeling for sym 
 pathy. 
 
 Mr. Magroy closeted with his will and his Bible ; he 
 changes one and consults the other daily. ISTow he is 
 seen busy writing, and again he compares himself with 
 all scriptural characters, from outcast Adam to the 
 stricken widow of Nam. 
 
 By artful and gradual approaches, the spider Fidgets,
 
 THE YOUNG COMMODORE. 235 
 
 drew the great blue-bottle fly Magroy, into the toils of 
 her mazy net. In less than a month she had gained an 
 influence over her victim, more powerful than ever. It 
 may be needless to say that the light which had lately 
 broken in upon his troubled soul with reference to the 
 Marches, the fear, the shame and the self-reproach, all 
 gradually vanished, and left him a blind listener to the 
 insinuations of Mrs. Fidgets. A new element soon 
 mingled in the blindfold war raging within him avarice. 
 Mr. Magroy never had been an avaricious man never 
 since the period of his youth Money was lavished 
 upon Mrs. Magroy more profusely than that prudent 
 woman required. Allen knew no stint until he left the 
 paternal roof. Even Mrs. Fidgets had, until now, lived 
 in silks and clover. 
 
 Now, Mr. Magroy is a miser. 
 
 This interesting change in our neighbor s character 
 first came known to us, on the occasion of Guilford s 
 calling to pay the last installment on Lilac Cottage. 
 
 " Mr. Guilford March, I believe, sir," said Mr. 
 Magroy, as iny brother entered the office. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Magroy," replied the latter respectfully. 
 
 "Your mother, sir?" 
 
 "Is well, Mr. Magroy." 
 
 " Is a what ?" he cried. 
 
 " Quite well, sir." 
 
 " My son been to your house of late, as much as ever 
 I suppose ?" 
 
 " No, sir, he has not entered our house for years."
 
 236 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " All the same ! all tlie same !" he muttered, " under 
 stood thing, conspiracy, waiting for the old man s shoes. 
 I ll fool them yet," he exclaimed, looking fiercely at 
 Guilford. 
 
 But happily he caught sight of the little canvas bag 
 in which Guilford had brought the silver and gold for 
 the payment. His eyes glistened with unnatural fire as 
 he looked, forgetting everything else. 
 
 " Ah ! I know you want to pay, sir. Let me see the 
 coin ! the coin, sir ! quick !" and the poor creature 
 poor with all his wealth, learning, and honors hurriedly 
 advanced to clutch the object of greed. 
 
 Guilford drew back, saying firmly 
 
 " Stay Mr. Magroy, you forget yourself, sir. The 
 papers first the bill of sale, note, deed." 
 
 " Oh ! yes," he answered, in a plaintive tone, that 
 ancient over-bearing temper humbled to the dust. 
 
 The papers were delivered as soon as the trembling 
 miser had counted, weighed, and inly devoured each 
 piece separately, as he took it from the bag. Guilford 
 felt a thrill of pleasure as he took in possession the evi 
 dences of Mrs. March s sole estate in Lilac Cottage. 
 
 He gave notice to Mr. Magroy, that he should ere 
 long repurchase the cut-off" lot, and bidding him good- 
 morning, he went home to make holiday with the 
 family. 
 
 Not long afterwards, Guilford was surprised to see 
 Mr. Magroy enter the counting-room of the warehouse. 
 He passed through the office without deigning to notice
 
 THE YOUNG COMMODORE. 237 
 
 my brother, and held a long conference with Mr. May. 
 flower in the private business apartment. Shortly Mr. 
 Magroy passed through again, went out ; Mr. Mayflower 
 came in, rubbing his hands. 
 
 " Guilford, what do you think old Mr. Magroy has 
 proposed ?" 
 
 "What, sir?" 
 
 " Why, to enter into a co-partnership with me, ha ! ha ! 
 ha! as if I d have such a glum old fur-trader prying 
 around my establishment." 
 
 " Why, sir," replied my brother, " under the present 
 state of the finances, his money bags might help you 
 out of your difficulties." 
 
 " I thought of that too. But what do you think was 
 the condition upon which he was to favor me with his 
 assistance ?" > , 
 
 " I cannot imagine, sir," said Guilford, nibbing a pen 
 with his knife. 
 
 " On the easy condition that I discharge you." 
 
 At that moment the edge of my brother s pen-knife 
 went through the pen, and almost through the thumb 
 nail. 
 
 "What, sir?" 
 
 "That I discharge you." 
 
 " Mr. Mayflower, if that is the only obstacle I pray 
 you not to hesitate to " 
 
 " Not a word ! not a word more, my dear fellow. I ve 
 known you from childhood. Your father was my early 
 model, sir. I reverenced him. Your mother, sir, has
 
 238 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 a name more precious than her lost fortune. But what 
 do you think I told my old Scotch friend ?" 
 
 " That your friendship for my father and mother " 
 
 " No, sir, not a word of it. I said you were the best 
 clerk in the city, on dock or street, and destined to 
 become one of the first business men in this community, 
 and that it was my intention next spring to take you into 
 the concern as partner. That is if you " 
 
 " My dear Mr. Mayflower !" 
 
 " Not a word my dear friend" Many gentlemen would 
 have said my dear young friend, and looked the patron. 
 But Mr. Mayflower was a gentleman of simple per 
 haps plain manners. 
 
 " If you are willing to share my hot water awhile, 
 Guilford, I think that, with your young blood fully 
 roused, we may weather the present storm. The sun 
 will come out must come out my dear fellow." 
 
 " Yes, I dare say we ll do very well. Egad ! we ll begin 
 right off." 
 
 And the firm became Mayflower & March. 
 
 There were not a few things in Guilford s present 
 mode of life to say nothing of its contrast with his 
 experience with Sortem and the Skeleton that grati 
 fied my brother. His senior, Mr. Mayflower, was 
 an ambitious, sanguine, though practical man, who 
 delighted in "hot water," as he called it. That is, 
 having a new steamer or sail vessel on the stocks while 
 yet embarrassed with the last dozen outfits, pushing 
 ahead of all competitors on the lakes, giving employ-
 
 THE YOUNG COMMODORE. 239 
 
 ment to thousands of needy sailors and ambitious 
 artisans, challenging sister cities for competitions, and 
 carrying, or rather staggering under pecuniary burdens 
 that would crush a score of less able men together. 
 All he wanted, he said, was a little more "young 
 blood," and now he has it. 
 
 These excitements aroused the best energies of Guil- 
 ford March. If he had genius, it lay in contrivances, 
 or fetching things about, and now all the powers of his 
 mind were drawn into play by a business demanding 
 great ability. It had likewise its pleasures. The rivalry, 
 the patronage, the launch, the contract with sailors and 
 shipbuilders frank, hearty, honest, friendly, often dis 
 interested classes both quickened and ennobled the 
 pulse of life. His early fondness for the water, too, was 
 gratified in a modified, but agreeable form. He went 
 at times from port to port, crossing the wind-tossed 
 white caps of Lake Erie, or the many-hued surface of 
 Lake Huron ; he dashed down the rapids of the St. 
 Lawrence, and sailed beneath the picture rocks of grand 
 old unknown Superior passing on his way, or pausing 
 to gaze upon the Arch Rock, and Sugar Loaf, where the 
 mythologic Indian gods once dwelt in Mackinaw the 
 Mount Olympus of the Red man but still more nearly 
 interesting to Guilford as the scenes of his father s 
 gentle intercourse with Indians and Frenchmen. 
 
 By degrees my brother acquired a sort of a sailor roll 
 in his gait ; the people called him the young commo 
 dore. His firm regard for truth, together with the frank
 
 240 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 heartiness of his manner, rendered the good-looking 
 young fellow both estimable and popular. 
 
 Dock life, so to call Guilford s present career, gives 
 rise to a peculiar species of men. To be sure, there is 
 a flavor of tar and oakum perceptible, yet tar and 
 oakum are often valuable to fill" the chinks of leaky 
 vessels ; and bluff, hearty, even rough usages may tend 
 to stop the small crevices of a weak nature the better 
 able to buffet with the waves of life. A man on the 
 dock is apt to be sound, and tough-hearted for the right, 
 and independent, combining part of the bluff honesty 
 of the sailor, and part of the thriving industry of the 
 landsman. He launches vessels, on whose decks little 
 communities live and labor, and do battle with wind 
 and wave. He hears of them in distant ports, and his 
 interests and sympathies stretch abroad to them. Hun 
 dreds, perhaps thousands, with their wives and little 
 ones, depend upon his enterprise and calculation, his 
 prudence, foresight and humanity. And he feels a 
 sense of power. Power, that necessity to a human 
 being, the element which tries him, the scale which 
 weighs him, and makes known what manner of BOU! 
 he is. Under such influence my brother G-uilford 
 developed gradually into the full stature of a man. With 
 less favoring gales, less refreshing dews, a less life- 
 darting sun, Guilford might have come short of the 
 standard, but some sort of a giant he would have been, 
 though a stunted giant. 
 
 Guilford became the acknowledged head of the family.
 
 THE TOTING COM MO MOKE. 24:1 
 
 " Walter," said he, one day, as lie came in to dinner, 
 "you must go to "Washington." 
 
 " How so ?" I inquired, with a thrill of surprise and 
 hopeful expectation. 
 
 He took a letter from his pocket. 
 
 "M. Latrobe says so here is the letter." 
 
 I took it and read. 
 
 "Mr DEAR GUILFORD: 
 
 " Things are in such a state of hodge-podge here (he meant 
 hotch-pot) the Member and each Senator his favorite, and none of ua 
 having Ventente cordials towards the administration, that I think your 
 brother had better come on himself. I will help him all I can. It is 
 his only chance. Make my compliments to the ladies, and believe me 
 with lively sentiments. 
 
 "Your friend, 
 
 "JACQUES LATROBE." 
 
 11
 
 242 SHOETAC RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE DKUM BEATS. 
 
 M. LATKOBE S letter was submitted to Major Fon- 
 tenoy, my military and mathematical friend and adviser, 
 in a council of war held in the third story of the ware 
 house, whose window fronted on the beautiful straits, 
 whence in summer- time the cool breezes came in, laden 
 with the freshness of the lakes. 
 
 " My advice, my boy, is to go, hey !" 
 
 " The only obstacle I see, lies in the pecuniary cir 
 cumstances of my friends. I cannot bear to encumber 
 them with the expense." 
 
 " As for that, Walter," said Guilford, " I think we ll 
 manage it for you." 
 
 "Who? what we? " 
 
 "Well, myself." 
 
 " No ! no !" said I, " you have just put on the harness 
 of responsibility " I always liked to deal in metaphor 
 " and you d better not pall yourself out of the traces 
 oil the first stage." 
 
 " What do you mean by that rigmarole ?" 
 
 " Why, have you not come into this concern of May-
 
 THE DRUM BEATS. 243 
 
 flower & March, without a penny, and is not the 
 establishment embarrassed ? "What would your partner 
 say to your plunging your arm into the purse first thing ? 
 Besides you know there s the lot to purchase." 
 
 " Commodore," said Major Fontenoy to Guilford, 
 " step this way, hey ! Any bank checks in the count 
 ing room ?" 
 
 "Major!" 
 
 " Never mind, old patriarch, hey ! all right one of 
 these bright sunny days ahead, hey ! you are in deep 
 water now. "Walter is my boy, hey ! romantic youth, 
 rather flighty. I was once, myself, hey ! But my boy, 
 my l>oy, hey !" 
 
 The end of the stage whisper was that the major soon 
 came back to the council of war, with the military chest 
 full, i. e., a check for two hundred dollars, which he 
 placed in my hand with the remark, 
 
 " There is the sinew of war, my "Walter, hey ! "We 
 allies must subsidize each other, hey !" 
 
 " JS"o, sir." I said firmly, returning the check. Then 
 a tear came straining its way through my heart to my 
 eye. I turned towards the w r indow and looked out on 
 the water. 
 
 " Julius Caesar ! what does the boy mean ?" said the 
 major, coloring and dropping his snuff-box from the 
 crook of his maimed arm. 
 
 Guilford respected my emotion, and was grave and 
 silent. 
 
 " Major," I said, turning round and taking his hand
 
 244 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 between both of mine, " I know your heart. I shall 
 always love you next to my brother Guilford, but sir 
 I will walk to Washington." 
 
 The major started back amazed. 
 
 "Long march, "Walter. Forty days. Snow on the 
 ground too, hey !" 
 
 Guilford placed his hand over the major s and mine. 
 
 " Do not say a word to deter him, sir." 
 
 " Walter you are a man! 1 
 
 We all three shook hands. 
 
 The council of war broke up. 
 
 I walked up home and communicated my resolution 
 to my mother. She turned very pale but said nothing 
 till afterwards. Mabel came in. When she heard the 
 news she threw her arms around my neck and kissed 
 me. 
 
 " Walter, dear Walter," she said, " you will never 
 come back to little Mabel." 
 
 I was confirmed at once in the opinion that my float 
 ing doubts of Mabel s love were mere fleecy figments 
 of the brain. My mother left the library. 
 
 " Darling Mabel," I said soothingly, " I shall see 
 thee again in thirty months. I will be true to thee." 
 
 " Don t talk so !" she shudderingly cried. " She refers 
 to my being absent so long," I said to myself. 
 
 " ISTay darling," quoth I, "it will pass more slowly to 
 me than to thee." 
 
 Mabel withdrew from my arms. 
 
 " Walter," she said, " when you are away from home
 
 THE DRUM BEATS. 245 
 
 in the great world, it may give you pleasure if they do 
 not spoil the dashing young officer " she parenthesized 
 mischievously " it may sometimes give you pleasure 
 to think of your little Mabel, whose doll houses you 
 made long ago under the lilac bushes." 
 
 " Shall I not always think of thee, dearest ?" I cried. 
 
 " Walter," she said, " don t be theatrical." 
 
 " What !" said I on my knees, " may I not call thee 
 dearest ? Are you not my own divine little " 
 
 At this moment who should appear at the door of the 
 library but Joram Jumps, the tall young candidate for 
 divinity of another sort and a better. 
 
 I saw nothing through the perspective tunnel, but 
 thought I heard a locomotive whistle. 
 
 "Whew! whew!" 
 
 And the train was off. 
 
 Mabel burst out laughing. " What a delightful thing 
 a duel would be between the rivals !" she cried as she 
 ran to the door, and flew through the hall, leaving me 
 to recover from my astonishment and regain my feet. 
 
 " I never did see such a provoking little flirt !" I 
 exclaimed aloud with bitterness. " And such a wpather- 
 cock ! At one moment she is on my neck ; at the next 
 she is mocking the deepest and holiest of feelings. Now 
 she looks pale, and trembles at my coming ; now she 
 avoids me, now she runs up to me, and now she has ran 
 away from me. By Jove ! I vow I ll give her up. But 
 that," said I to myself benevolently, " would break the 
 child s heart. After all she s nothing but a child."
 
 246 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " "Who, "Walter ?" inquired a soft voice. 
 
 " Maud can you unriddle that little sphinx ?" 
 
 "What, Mabel? 
 
 "To be sure." 
 
 " "What is the matter between you ? you always got 
 on nicely until lately." 
 
 " Ever since that Joram Jumps affair between them, 
 she has blown hot and cold, been one thing to-day, and 
 another to-morrow. If I seek those affectionate caresses 
 formerly my wont to enjoy, she teazes me to death." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " One moment she weeps and the next she laughs." 
 
 " Why, Walter, since your grand affair with Dulcinea, 
 don t you understand the sex yet ?" 
 
 "No!" said I, bluntly, "not the Mabel Latrobe 
 part." 
 
 "Do you want my opinion?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " People who interfere between lovers generally 
 suffer for it." 
 
 " You shall not suffer at my hands at least, dear 
 Maud. I really need some sisterly counsel." 
 
 " Well, Walter," she said, as we seated ourselves 
 together on the lounge, " you think yourself in love ?" 
 
 " I am in love !" I exclaimed. " I can scarcely recol- 
 
 "V 1 I TT 
 
 lect the formula x 2 y 2 = ^- for thinking of her." 
 
 Maud laughed. " You test it mathematically," she said. 
 "The next best test is analogy, but as analogy does
 
 THE DEUM BEATS. 247 
 
 not always lead to certainty " I said, quoting from 
 
 the book. 
 
 " Why, you remember very well," said Maud, laugh 
 ing. " But come, let us look soberly at this problem, 
 if you please. You think you love Mabel." 
 
 " I know it ! I know it 1" 
 
 " You thought nay," she added, looking slily at me, 
 "you knew that you loved Dulcinea." 
 
 " Dulcinea !" I exclaimed, impatiently "what a 
 comparison ! a sheep to a gazelle !" 
 
 " The only difference is that then you were sheepishly 
 in love with Dulcinea, and now you are gazelle-ishly in 
 love with Mabel." 
 
 " Maud, you will drive me mad !" 
 
 " The soft, wild eyes of your gazelle will probably 
 haunt your dreams, and kindle your imagination as 
 those things generally do with poets" 
 
 I inclined my head to acknowledge the compliment 
 being reckoned among poets. 
 
 " But you have never had the yearnings and sympa 
 thies of your heart unfolded to you by the pitiless hand 
 of time, or the chilling influences of experience, or 
 even the heat of passion! so that Walter, my dear 
 brother, you have no sort of idea what will or will not 
 make you happy." 
 
 u I have been in the habit of studying my own 
 heart since a child ; I have looked into its deepest 
 depths, and see nothing but Mabel ever reflected there." 
 
 "Pardon me, Walter, but that depends upon your
 
 248 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 humor, or the train of your fancies. Looking down 
 into those awful and mysterious depths is no trifle. 
 You may once have had them moved to the very 
 bottom when he died" she glanced at my father s 
 picture- " but since then your thoughts have played 
 more sportively, and now you see in the dark, deep 
 reflector nothing but phantasmagoria of fame a poet s, 
 a hero s, a philanthropist s fame." 
 
 My sister had read me exactly. 
 
 " Why, Maud, how did you learn all this ? I never 
 thought of it myself, even : your hand has removed the 
 veil." 
 
 She went on. 
 
 "You are the simplest of the simple a child to 
 those who give you credit for a little genius." 
 
 I actually kissed Maud warmly. 
 
 "But," said she, "your greatest enemy may prove 
 this very genius. Above disguise, working out its wild, 
 yet simple nature, in acts at war with all worldly 
 people s notions of propriety, you will be alternately 
 mistaken for a madman, a simpleton, and a rogue." 
 
 " Why, Maud ! Maud !" 
 
 " Kemember the warning, Walter : it will come up 
 many and many a time unless you begin now to impose 
 a wearying burden upon yourself." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Every sort of self-restraint over your temper, your 
 fancy, your reflections, which will always be tinctured 
 too warmly with the inner glow to enable you to see
 
 THE DRUM BEATS. 
 
 clearly the cold, grey substance of matters of fact. 
 You must keep down your heart, your good impulses, 
 yes, your very religion itself, which will be but too apt 
 to oscillate from the extreme of emotion to the opposite 
 extreme of skepticism. Finally, your sympathies must 
 be rigidly restrained." 
 
 " My sympathies !" I exclaimed, "the sweet sources 
 of my happiness ?" 
 
 " The sweet sources of your transports, which you 
 must learn to moderate, and the sweet sources of your 
 love affairs, which you must not indulge in too far." 
 
 "Not too far?" 
 
 " A certain amount of experience in love s extrava 
 gances will be useful, in fact necessary to your settle 
 ment in the land of content." 
 
 " Where I never care to, and never would settle if I 
 could," I cried. " A sort of discontent is the source of 
 all effort, all progress, the load-stone to heaven itself 
 discontent with the low aspirations after the lofty." 
 
 " Wait Walter. I mean in plainer terms, that in 
 order to be contented with a wife, one must first enjoy 
 with such a ranging thought as yours a pretty exten 
 sive acquaintance with various women, and no little 
 heart experience mixed with it. Now I ll venture to 
 say, that you never, in all your life, have gone so far as 
 to inquire what sort of companion would be best suited 
 to your temperament." 
 
 " Yes I have." 
 
 "Who, then?" 
 
 11*
 
 250 SnOETAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " Guilford." 
 
 But you stray from the subject. Of course I mean 
 by companion, a wife, since you will thus prematurely 
 vex your soul with subjects of this nature." 
 
 " What a pity, Maud, you are my sister ! I would drop 
 down on my knees before you this moment and sue for 
 your hand." 
 
 "There! there!" cried Maud rising from her seat, 
 "you have forgotten Mabel in half an hour!" 
 
 I must confess that I blushed and stammered. 
 
 " You must study yourself, "Walter, learn the wants 
 of your peculiar nature, those things, I mean by wants, 
 which shall not only produce enjoyment, but promote 
 peace, self-respect, and sober, deliberate satisfaction." 
 
 " But do you think Mabel and I are suited to each 
 other ?" 
 
 " You said just now that Guilford was the sort of 
 temperament for you." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Guilford and Mabel are very different. Besides, 
 are you suited to Mabel ?" 
 
 " What a cold reasoner you are !" 
 
 " Dear Waiter !" said Maud reproachfully. 
 
 " Well, go on." 
 
 "Two things divide a man s life and thoughts, a 
 career and a home. I know not which is most impor 
 tant, but if he is so careful in selecting the former, is 
 governed so completely by his idiosyncrasy, as one may 
 say, the latter deserves at least deliberation."
 
 THE DKUM BEATS. 251 
 
 " Unless," said I, " unless accident does the busi 
 ness." 
 
 " Yes," replied Maud gravely, " accident has mucli to 
 do with such things, chiefly the accident propinquity, 
 as for instance in this case." She looked at me archly. 
 
 " But speaking of temperaments," Maud. 
 
 " "Well, Walter, do you think Mabel could ever love 
 and respect you as she might, Guilford 2" 
 
 " No I don t," said I frankly. 
 
 " She ought to," said Maud musingly, " but I fear, I 
 fear " 
 
 " Dear Maud !" I kissed my sister again. " You are 
 not only an angel, as I have called you a hundred 
 times, but you are as somebody else once said a 
 goddess. : 
 
 Maud blushed and looked pained, as any allusion to 
 Major Fontenoy always made her look. 
 
 She was going. 
 
 " Stay one moment till I return," quoth I. 
 
 In a moment I was back with my hands full of laurel 
 leaves and holly, that grew in the garden. 
 
 " Let me make a wreath for you, Maud, I will twine 
 it around your hair ; the contrast between its fair color 
 and the dark green leaves, will have a pretty effect 
 They are ever-green, and the wreath will last long after 
 I am gone." 
 
 " What ! are you going ?" 
 
 " Yes, to Washington. If I succeed as I hope to, 1 
 shall thence to West Point."
 
 252 
 
 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 " God will bless you, Walter, you are one of his 
 lambs." 
 
 Maud dropt a tear, which added a bright diamond to 
 the wreath. 
 
 " I will weave a chaplet for you, Walter." 
 
 " What shall it be, Maud ?" 
 
 " Laurel and Bay." 
 
 I brought in the leaves from the garden and laid them 
 on her lap. In a few moments I had plaited the wreath 
 and placed it on her head. She looked more beautiful 
 than the purest work of Grecian art. 
 
 "Now kneel, sir knight!" she cried, raising the 
 chaplet. 
 
 I knelt before her. 
 
 "Laurel and Bay," Maud said with simplicity, 
 " Soldier and poet. Be this thy motto : 
 
 " Moderate your transports /"
 
 IN MOTION. 253 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVII. 
 
 IN MOTION. 
 
 THE busy note of preparation resounded through the 
 house. There were clothes to make which Maud and 
 Mabel sat up nights to help my mother finish. Major 
 Fontenoy took me to the saddler s and ordered a knap 
 sack, which fitted nicely on my shoulders, and contained 
 my wardrobe and simple toilet. There came up to the 
 house one evening two pairs of shoepacks from an 
 unknown quarter probably Allen Magroy sent them. 
 My mother put in the knapsack the smallest copy of a 
 Bible to be found at the Sunday School Repositories. 
 Guilford gave me a purse for incidental expenses, and 
 Major Fontenoy slipped there unknown to me a draft on 
 the bank. 
 
 " A plaster in case lie should be sick on the march, 
 hey !" he said to Guilford. 
 
 The Kev. Mr. Cradle gave me a letter to a brother 
 clergyman in Washington. 
 
 There was a snow-storm the night before I was to 
 leave. Allen came up through it to Lilac Cottage, 
 inquired at the door for Walter. Bowes came and told
 
 254: SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 me, rubbing her hands upon her apron, that a gentle 
 man wished to see me. Allen took a little pearl breast 
 pin from his shirt-bosom, and pinned it on mine, then 
 wished me a safe journey and good luck, and departed, 
 wringing my hand. The major spent the evening with 
 us, looking at Maud while he gave me my " orders," as 
 he called them. I was to commence walking no more 
 than ten miles a day. I was to beware of politicians, 
 except M. Latrobe and Colonel Sedgelield who were 
 not politicians. I was to take a letter he gave me to 
 the commander-in-chief. I was to see the secretary of 
 war. I w r as to ask M. Latrobe whether it wouldn t be 
 useful to see the President of the United States. Per 
 haps the letter to the clergyman might be useful. I 
 was to tell my business to nobody but those who it was 
 necessary should know it. 
 
 Allen had told me I must try and hear Mr. Clay 
 speak. Maud told me I must not be too much of a 
 man, but treat everybody with the respect and courtesy 
 that my mother had always required. 
 
 "You may be surprised on being thrown among 
 strangers for the first time, to see many older and richer 
 than you," Guilford said, " who appear to know less. 
 But keep your own ground, and listen with open ears, 
 for you will soon find a vein of substantial ore of good 
 sense by which you may profit." 
 
 Mabel said I must see the pictures in the Rotunda, 
 and she wrought a little book-mark for me, which I was 
 not to look at till the first night of my tarrying on the
 
 IN MOTION. 255 
 
 road, wliicli I then found embroidered with her hair in 
 beautiful, small letters, " Dulcinea." 
 
 Bowes said I must bathe my feet in ice-water every 
 morning. My mother said I must read my Bible every 
 night. 
 
 I took leave of all the family except Guilford : neither 
 of us slept any that night. The stage came before day 
 light next morning. The driver blew a tin horn. I 
 was to ride with him ten miles for nothing, for it was 
 Abe. Guilford and I, though great youths, kissed each 
 other. I jumped on the driver s box, and was off with 
 a heavy heart. A few miles out, I wished I had slept 
 more during the night, for there was no catching a nap 
 now with Abe, \vho whistled, and sang, and blew his 
 horn though he kept me covered up with a horse- 
 blanket. 
 
 Abe, on reaching the end of his drive, consigned me 
 to the care of the next stage-driver, whom I found cross- 
 grained, unsociable, and cruel to his horses. So I 
 declined his surly offer of being " turned over," as he 
 called it, to the next driver, but walked the rest of that 
 day. I had ridden twenty miles, and easily walked ten 
 more. The snow diminished in depth as I advanced, so 
 that I found little on my second day s route, and easily 
 walked fifteen miles. Gradually my days journey 
 increased in length till I could accomplish my thirty 
 miles a day, except through occasional snow-drifts 
 through northern Ohio. But then I was sometimes 
 favored with a ride on top of "a load of wood or flour,
 
 256 SHOEPAC KECOL LECTIONS. 
 
 driving into market towns ; but most frequently the 
 teams were going the wrong way, or I, not liking the 
 looks of the driver, would not ask to ride with him. 
 At night, I slept in the bar-room for nothing when 
 there were no noisy men smoking or drinking in it. 
 Sometimes I called for a room, but rarely, they put me 
 with so many bedfellows. I generally read my Bible 
 a little on the road, and said my prayers in the barn, or 
 in the woods, on the wayside. 
 
 Thus I travelled all through Ohio, and by the Cum 
 berland road, which led over the Alleghany Mountains, 
 through a part of Virginia, into Maryland. A moun 
 tain ! how I had longed to see one ! It wore as pictur 
 esque a form in my imagination as an Egyptian Pyramid. 
 I was disappointed in them at first. They were not so 
 tall, so conical, so steep, so triangular, as I had thought. 
 Few had snow-tops. Here and there I saw a cascade 
 half-congealed. I wished it were summer, so I might 
 wander from the road, find a mountain stream, and 
 trace it up to its fountain spring. Laurel Top was 
 grand. 
 
 On reaching Cumberland, I first saw the railway, just 
 completed from Baltimore. I did not like walking over 
 the dead level track so well as winding over the uneven 
 roads. I took any by-road which I learnt, on inquiring, 
 lost me no great distance. I took great interest in the 
 appearance of the fields, and negroes, and houses, going 
 through Maryland. Everything was different from 
 Ohio, looking older, more dilapidated, and more
 
 IN MOTION. 25V 
 
 respectable, as if people there had once known wealth 
 and hospitality. 
 
 At length I drew near Washington. Possibly, a more 
 detailed account of the journey might be acceptable, 
 but our story is too far advanced, dear reader, to detain 
 you concerning boy- adventures with inn-keepers, bar 
 maids, travellers, peddlers, drovers, Boston tailors, 
 New York dandies, philanthropists with patent medi 
 cines or Mormon tracts. Nor shall we wait to tell 
 much of the man who put me. out of my seat in the 
 coach, when driving through a snow-drift, and made 
 me ride under the driver s seat, with his the new 
 comer s valise, until the passengers held a sort of an 
 indignation meeting in my favor. 
 
 "He is only a boy!" said the oppressor. 
 
 " He has his rights !" replied one. 
 
 " He shall come inside ?" cried another. 
 
 " You shall ride outside yourself!" exclaimed a third 
 a tall, dark looking fellow, who had labored in the 
 silver mines of Mexico to the oppressor. 
 
 Accordingly I was re-instated, and the gentleman 
 forced to ride on the top till the drift was passed and the 
 storm abated, when I left the coach. 
 
 Nor shall we dwell on that happy meeting I saw 
 between a young husband and wife, after a month s 
 separation ; during most of which the bride mourned her 
 bridegroom lost in the snow with the cattle he was 
 driving. Or upon the burial of that little child who 
 died in the emigrant s wagon, and was buried in the
 
 258 8HOEPAO RECOLLECTIONS . 
 
 forest at evening, and on her little grave a white pall of 
 snow from heaven had fallen in the morning, when the 
 emigrant s family went weepingly away, leaving their 
 little one there. 
 
 Many I met were curious to know who I was, with 
 my shoepacs, and white blanket coat with a hood, and 
 red stripes around the borders of skirts and sleeves, and 
 my knapsack too young for a soldier, and going the 
 wrong direction for an emigrant. They took me for a 
 Mormon, a mail carrier, a tract distributer, a juggler, an 
 Indian Theological student. One swore I was a Green- 
 lander sent on special business to "Washington, to see 
 about the annexation of the Arctic regions ; another 
 swore I was a Chinese. I have no doubt I was very 
 green, and many must have amused themselves at my 
 expense. 
 
 How my heart throbbed as I came in sight of the 
 great buildings of Washington ! Elated by pleasure and 
 pride, I exclaimed 
 
 " See ! there are the proofs that I am no longer a 
 dreamer, but a doer ! Who knows but the next time I 
 approach this proud city, instead of being afoot and 
 alone, I may be riding in some triumphal procession, the 
 cynosure of every eye?" 
 
 It was about noon. I walked up the steps of the 
 capitol, found my way through the rotunda, to the 
 Senate ante-room, and sent my name to M. Latrobe by 
 a tall, benevolent looking gentleman, whom I was aston 
 ished to hear called the doorkeeper.
 
 IN MOTION. 259 
 
 I hoped to pass among the crowd unnoticed, for my 
 shoepacs made no noise, but my knapsack and long hair, 
 and even the shoepacs themselves, the chief source of 
 my feeling of security, must have caused many a stare. 
 
 M. Latrobe greeted me with cordiality and affection, 
 lie even embraced me in his arms, and took me into the 
 Senate chamber. He had heard I was on the road, 
 through Mabel ; expressed the greatest surprise at such 
 an undertaking, and said offering me his snuff-box 
 
 "You are very unfriendly, Waltair." 
 
 " Why so, M. Latrobe ?" 
 
 " Not to draw on me, and ride to "Washington in a 
 coach, like a gentleman." 
 
 I took a pinch of snuff which made me sneeze, and 
 frightened me to death lest I should disturb the Senate, 
 and be called to order by the Vice President of the 
 United States. A tear came into my eye, I thanked 
 him tenderly, for his kindness touched me, but said with 
 some pride, 
 
 " It may be more gentlemanly to ride, but it is more 
 soldierly to walk." 
 
 M. Latrobe put on his hat and a blue cloak, which 
 gave him a senatorial air. We went out the eastern 
 doorway of the capitol, took our seats in a coach, and 
 drove to M. Latrobe s lodgings. 
 
 "Who keeps the house, sir?" I inquired. 
 
 " A widow lady. I always find one good enough to 
 take care of me." 
 
 I admired his benevolence, and have always since
 
 260 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 followed his example, boarding, when I could, with 
 widow ladies. But some widow lady boarding-house 
 keepers, are well no matter. 
 
 " You will stay here with me, Waltair ?" 
 
 "Pardon me, sir!" I said, "this is too splendid and 
 expensive for me." I secretly feared, too, I might be 
 in the way of the good gentleman. 
 
 "I shall feel injured in my feelings, if you refuse me 
 the pleasure of being my guest, Waltair !" 
 
 And so a room was assigned me not far from his own. 
 He then left me, and returned to the Senate. 
 
 I locked the door of my apartment, and read in com 
 fort my little Bible, and knelt down to thank Him who 
 bringeth travellers safe on their way. My father seemed 
 bending over me with a smile in his mouth that sweet 
 mouth, now freed from the old look of power repressed. 
 It was like a vision. 
 
 After changing my garments, I went into M. Latrobe s 
 room, which he had invited me to make my head-quar 
 ters as he called it; and where I found some choice 
 books. Racine, Montaigne, Montesquieu, and some 
 English philosophical and statistical works, which I 
 found had been well thumbed. I buried myself in the 
 arms of that old literary dry nurse, Montaigne, until 
 the reappearance of M. Latrobe. 
 
 We went down to dinner. My friend took me to the 
 lady of the house, and introduced me in a very cordial, 
 polished way, as if I were his own son. She was a 
 pleasant little Frenchwoman. She gave me a seat next
 
 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 261 
 
 my friend, who sat near herself, at the head of the 
 table. 
 
 I soon learned that the lady had known my father, 
 and this had the effect of making me feel at home. 
 
 It is unnecessary to detail all the steps we took in the 
 business for which I had come. There were several 
 difficulties to be encountered. There was but one 
 member of Congress from our State. The unrepresented 
 faction of the constituency, however, was so large that 
 we were allowed two cadets. It was the custom gener 
 ally for the member to nominate the cadet, but as there 
 were two, the matter was shared between the member 
 and our two senators. Yet neither senator had the 
 power of nomination. Thus all depended upon the 
 member. These facts we learnt by visiting the secre 
 tary of war, the engineer bureau, and the commander- 
 in-chief. To the last I delivered Major Fontenoy s 
 letter. The commander-in-chief expressed much plea 
 sure at hearing from the gallant major, whom he called 
 an ornament to the army. But he said he had no influ 
 ence in the administration of army affairs, was con 
 sulted in no appointments or other matters of moment. 
 My eyes filled I had such weak eyes as they gazed 
 upon this man, one of the two pyramids of our military 
 history, briefly and calmly expressing himself as a 
 cypher in the War Department, a department which he 
 had invested with power, and covered with glory. 
 
 "With M. Latrobe then I went to the member. He 
 received us politely, seemed somewhat preoccupied, had
 
 262 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 nothing to say with, reference to the previous application, 
 but was rather favorably touched by the fact of my zeal 
 and labor, coming so far. 
 
 " Quite a feat, sir, for a mere stripling," he said. 
 
 "Yes," replied M. Latrobe. "I think he deserves 
 the prize for it." 
 
 " Hem ah yes of what politics was your father, 
 Master March ?" 
 
 " A Jefferson man, sir." 
 
 "Ah! I did not know that. Your ]S"ew England 
 brother, sir, is a whig, sir, he has done us some 
 damage." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said I, somewhat uplifted by talking 
 politics at the seat of government, with a congressman, 
 and hearing my brother s name complimented. " But 
 John never agreed with my father, or Guilford, or even 
 me in politics." 
 
 " Pray what are you, sir ?" 
 
 " A Jackson man," I said, stoutly. 
 
 " Good ! very good !" Mr. Hustings laughed and 
 rubbed his hands a slippery-looking pair of hands 
 " Now, sir, what is your mother ?" 
 
 " My mother, sir !" I echoed, with surprise. 
 
 " Yes, sir, her politics ?" 
 
 " Pardon me, sir, if I decline the honor of bringing 
 my mother s name in question." 
 
 Mr. Hustings began to look displeased. Fortunately 
 M. Latrobe came to my rescue. 
 
 " Ma foi ! my friend," he said, addressing the
 
 IN MOTION. 263 
 
 member, and handing his snuff-box with the air of a 
 courtier of Louis XIV., "you must not endeavor to 
 convert Mrs. March to democracy. She belongs to our 
 party, sir! She is a member of the party for home 
 industry, sir !" 
 
 This lively sally silenced the batteries of my cross 
 questioner ; and the editor of the organ of democracy in 
 our city, happening in at the moment, and greeting me 
 with unmistakable warmth, our friend Mr. Hustings, 
 throwing himself back in his chair, perching his heels 
 on the stove, at the same time spitting a stream of 
 tobacco juice over the carpet, said in a loud, patronizing 
 voice, 
 
 ""Well, there s no resisting widows and orphans. I 
 suppose I must give him a letter." We arose to depart. 
 
 "At what time shall my friend call for ze lettar?" 
 inquired M. Latrobe, as if addressing the king of 
 France, or his own idol, Napoleon le grand. 
 
 "He needn t call, senator," the gentleman said, "I 
 will send it to your rooms." We left. 
 
 As soon as we were in the street, M. Latrobe gave 
 vent to his disgust and contempt, in words which would 
 have edified any professed politician to hear. He 
 ended his complimentary discourse by saying, " I know 
 ze breed, Waltair ! we will watch him. Closely, 
 closely," the senator repeated, as he forced a large pinch 
 of snuff into his nostril. 
 
 That evening Walter called on his excellency, the 
 President, in company with the clergyman to whom I
 
 264 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 bore Mr. Cradle s letter. His excellency was very 
 urbane, but Walter was both surprised and disap 
 pointed : surprised at himself being not overwhelmed 
 in the presence of so great a man, and disappointed in 
 that the President was not overwhelmed to hear Walter 
 had travelled so far on foot. Walter came to the con 
 clusion that there was nothing now to astonish or be 
 astonished at in Washington but I had not yet heard 
 Mr. Clay speak. The evening passed off very agreeably, 
 however. There was a distinguished man present from 
 the South, with a noble, frank, easy manner of address, 
 reminding me of some of our home gentlemen. The 
 conversation turned principally on political reminiscen 
 ces, and a good many not entirely new anecdotes of 
 John Kandolph. My business was not then brought 
 before the President, as that would not have been the 
 etiquette. 
 
 M. Latrobe had no faith in our decorous friend, Mr. 
 Hustings, and it was now thought a matter of prime 
 importance to gain the ear of the executive, and as 
 sharp political differences prevented intercourse between 
 that high functionary and my zealous friend, I must 
 needs go alone to the audience chamber.
 
 THE KITCHEN CABINET. 265 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE KITCHEN CABINET. 
 
 ARRIVED at the White House next morning, I rang 
 the porter s bell with a trembling hand. The keeper of 
 the king s gate was an Irishman, illustrious under the 
 reign of Andrew the Great, and not unconcious of his 
 importance under the present dynasty. 
 
 " I wish to see the President." 
 
 " "What a lad !" he exclaimed, with assumed amaze 
 ment ; " in that white blanket coat, with a what d ye 
 call it, a night-cap on the shoulders !" 
 
 " No, sir !" retorted I, with no little spirit. "I shall 
 take off my overcoat." 
 
 "Well," he resumed, looking with well-feigned fright 
 at my shoepacs, "d ye think to see his excellency in 
 those " ** 
 
 " Yes, sir," I exclaimed, now angry ; " these shoepacs 
 are the gift of a friend, and for that reason I value them 
 above the handicrafts of the first cobbler in Ireland." 
 
 " Arrah, my boy ! you re a spirited fine fellow, 
 but you can t see his excellency to day." He closed the 
 door on me, but re-opening it immediately, thrust out 
 his head, and added, 
 
 12
 
 2C6 BHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " Nor to-morrow, mi lad, nor" just at this criti 
 cal moment of my life, I caught a glimpse of a dog in 
 the vestibule. 
 
 " Cap !" I cried joyfully, " Cap !" for the sight of any 
 acquaintance at the forlorn moment was joyful, and it 
 was an exquisite stroke of policy- to seize sudden use 
 of whatever advantage my familiarity with any object 
 inside the White House might afford." 
 
 "I defy common sense to have clone it," said I to 
 Guilford afterwards. 
 
 " Arrah, mi lad, do you know the nager ?" 
 
 " Certainly," I replied, witli perfect coolness. 
 
 " Come in then, come in. You re a broth of a boy, 
 any way, whoever ye are." 
 
 I walked in triumphantly, and after getting beyond 
 the Irish gentleman s sight, Cap along with me, wagging 
 his tail, I loitered in the hall until the " nager," whom 
 I felt sure of knowing, made his appearance. For my 
 complete relief and joy, it was the sheriff himself. 
 
 "Mason or Anti-Mason?" I cried. 
 
 He paused, and looked doubtfully at me a moment 
 everybody seems to suspect you in Washington then 
 cried out, 
 
 " Walter March ! why I m so glad to see you." 
 
 Cap began to frisk around us, as if himself overjoyed 
 at the recognition, the hesitation of which had doubtless 
 surprised him. Dick had been absent from our city 
 several years. 
 
 "Then you ve turned politician, eh?"
 
 THE KITCHEN CABINET. 261 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " What do you want ? to see the President ?" 
 
 " That s it exactly." 
 
 "I ll manage it. Come this way, Massa "Walter." 
 
 Dick led to a little apartment cheered by the warm 
 rays of a large wood tire-place, placed in front of which 
 stood an immense armed and cushioned chair, with 
 leather coverings. Dick planted me in the chair. A table 
 stood near, covered with newspapers, letters, and docu 
 ments. Dick took a paper-knife, and cut off the wrap 
 pers of several fresh-looking papers, which he shook out 
 in front of the fire, and placed on my knee. 
 
 " Now make yourself comfortable. Massa Walter, and 
 read the news till I come back. Til be back soon." 
 
 And Dick took my name on a card, and went out of 
 the room. 
 
 I found myself in the office of the President s private 
 secretary ; at least I judged so from the papers and 
 letters lying on the table, addressed to him. 
 
 It was a sharp, cold day, and I was glad to warm 
 myself for an interview which I regarded so decisive of 
 my fate, as to send a chill creeping over me. My eyes 
 wandered vacantly over the columns of a gazette, until 
 Dick returned. 
 
 " All right, Massa Walter ; wait a few minutes." 
 
 "Why do you call me massa, Dick ?" 
 
 " Cos that s the fashion down these parts." 
 
 " But old friends you know, Dick." 
 
 Dick came close to my chair, and almost whispered.
 
 268 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " I d rather call yon massa, than some big folks Dick 
 knows." 
 
 I laughed, and the rest of the hour was spent by 
 Dick s inquiring after Guilford, and Allen, and Abe, 
 and telling his adventures, and much entertainment did 
 I find there in the private secretary s room. 
 
 I wanted to ask Dick to sing, 
 
 " Come hither blue-eyed stranger," 
 
 but rather doubted the propriety of such a request, con 
 sidering the place and circumstances. 
 
 " But," said I, " Dick, you haven t told me yet what 
 office you hold here, nor how you got here." 
 
 " Oh, keep dark !" said he. 
 
 At this moment a little bell tingled, and my warm 
 hearted friend said very quietly, 
 
 " Time to go, Massa Walter." 
 
 My heart leaped as though it would break its barriers. 
 
 "We went through a corridor, and entered a wide 
 lobby, along the walls of which settees were arranged, 
 and occupied by a crowd of well-dressed gentlemen, old 
 and young, most of whom wore a fagged expression on 
 their lengthy jaws. 
 
 " Some of those gentlemen been waiting since last 
 Friday," whispered Dick this was Tuesday "and 
 some on ern will never get in !" 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Never you mind ! keep dark !" replied Dick, with a 
 wink.
 
 THE KITCHEN CABINET. 269 
 
 He stopped a moment to inquire of a messenger in 
 waiting, whether any one had gone in since the bell 
 rang. The messenger shook his head. 
 
 Dick then advanced boldly to the door, which he 
 opened, and announced, with a loud voice, 
 
 " Massa "Walter March!" and I found myself in the 
 audience chamber. 
 
 The President recognized me, and inquired after the 
 health of my reverend friend of the night before. 
 
 Then he said good-humoredly, 
 
 " Well Master March, what emergency of state affairs 
 brings vou to Washington ?" 
 
 o / o 
 
 My story was soon told. 
 
 " You say, then, that this appointment was promised 
 you a year ago ?" said the President kindly. 
 
 " Yes sir unsought." 
 
 "And that you collected testimonials which were 
 delivered to your member, for filing in the office ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," 
 
 And that neither your application nor the testimonials 
 are in file at the engineer s office?" 
 
 " Neither, sir." 
 
 " But now this member promises you a letter to the 
 Engineer Department ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 The President wrote a line ; touched the bell on the 
 table. Dick appeared. 
 
 " Give this to the messenger to deliver immediately 
 an answer required."
 
 270 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Dick bowed and withdrew with no little grace, keep 
 ing his face towards the President till he was gone. 
 
 The President took up a document which he perused. 
 Soon came a knock at the door, and Dick announced 
 
 " Chief engineer War Department." 
 
 That gentleman, with his colossal head, advanced 
 towards the President, who greeted him with republican 
 simplicity. The chief engineer did me the honor of a 
 bow, and took his seat. 
 
 " General, our young Western friend, Mr. March, has 
 walked all the way from the State of Michigan, after a 
 cadet s warrant." 
 
 The chief engineer bowed. 
 
 " I regret," continued the President, " that my own 
 list is already filled. Is there any other means within 
 our reach ?" 
 
 "The member from Mr. March s State can nominate 
 him, your excellency." 
 
 " He has already promised our friend a letter," said 
 the President. 
 
 "A letter, your excellency knows, is not always 
 decisive. Many are written with studied no-mean 
 ing." 
 
 " I dare say," said the President. 
 
 " Then, sir, all we can do for you, my brave lad, is to 
 put the most favorable construction possible, on any 
 letter your member may give you." 
 
 His excellency extended me his hand, which I shook 
 with good Western warmth, and then withdrew.
 
 THE KITCHEN CABINET. 271 
 
 Dick held the door open before I had fairly readied 
 it. 
 
 " What luck ?" said Dick as we passed down the hall, 
 the gentlemen waiting audience regarding me with 
 peculiar looks. 
 
 " Good, I hope ?" inquired Dick, noticing that I could 
 scarcely speak. 
 
 " Yes, I think it is good." 
 
 * Did the President promise?" asked Dick, as soon as 
 we were out of hearing. 
 
 " No, but he ll do all in his power, I ve no doubt." 
 
 " That s good. I believe he will. He s a good 
 gentleman," said Dick " that is," he added, in a whis 
 per, " for a politician." 
 
 My friend did not lead me back to the room in which 
 he first installed me, but said the secretary would be 
 returning soon. "We paced the far end of the lobby 
 together, talking in an under tone till the morning hour 
 expired, and Dick was relieved from his duties as door 
 keeper to the audience chamber, and taking me to a 
 room in anolher part of the building, he introduced me 
 to a very handsome and bright complexioned mulatto 
 woman, with blue eyes. Dick s wife. 
 
 " One of my old prisoners," said he, to the young 
 woman, who curtsied. 
 
 " Why Dick," I said, " you ve found your blue eyed 
 stranger. What shall I call her?" said I, taking her 
 hand for I never knew Dick s surname. 
 
 " Mary," quoth Dick.
 
 272 BHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 There was a pretty olive and pink blush, on blue 
 eyed Mary s cheek. 
 
 " You will stay to dinner, Massa Walter ?" 
 
 " With the greatest happiness," I replied, and Mary 
 went out to prepare the meal, which she served up on a 
 table in the same room, and I must acknowledge myself 
 indebted to that honest couple for a dinner of herbs, 
 sweeter though simpler than any banquet. 
 
 Meanwhile Dick told me that he had left our ancient 
 city, because with the ingress of a more money-making 
 community, though they professed greater love for his 
 negro brethren of the South, he found himself sinking 
 individually, and meeting with a sort of contempt. 
 There never was a nobler fellow than Dick, white or 
 black, and you should have witnessed the mingled con 
 dolence, pity, and pride, with which his Mary regarded 
 him over this part of his story. 
 
 " I left, Massa Walter, because I was worse than 
 nobody, and made up my mind to come South, where 
 the negro man is somebody, everyone knows what, 
 where there s no rubbing against white folks, no chafing 
 negro s spirit." 
 
 " But have you never regretted it ?" 
 
 " Well, Massa Walter, I often regret the old town 
 where Abe and I used to play with the boys, and fight 
 for them, too, you recollect," he added, showing his 
 pearly teeth. 
 
 "Mary ever hear of that?" I asked, laughing, too. 
 
 " Oh, yes. That s the poetry of my life, that and
 
 THE KITCHEN CABINET. 273 
 
 sitting down on the grass with the boys all around me. 
 She s he"ard it a thousand times. Wouldn t wonder if 
 that s what got her for me, eh, Mary ?" 
 
 " Don t know, Dick ; you used to talk mighty elo 
 quent bout those times." 
 
 " Well," said Dick, " next to that sort of life, give 
 me Southern life, where a nigger s a nigger, and every 
 body don t think he s as good as a white man, and 
 make him unhappy bout it, then leaves him to starve 
 in the back alleys." 
 
 "But how did you bring up in these comfortable 
 quarters, Dick ?" 
 
 " Owin to that gal," said Dick, looking fondly and 
 brightly at the pretty, blushing Mary. " She was a 
 children s maid in the old general s family. I used to 
 wait on our old governor when he came here to the 
 cabinet, and that s the way I got acquainted with Mary." 
 
 " Well," said I. 
 
 " Then," said Dick, " I couldn t help falling in love 
 with her, you know." 
 
 " Ah ! go long, you Dick !" exclaimed the bashful 
 Mary. 
 
 " Don t believe Massa Walter could ha helped it 
 himself," said Dick, " if he d seen you then." 
 
 " I can hardly help it now," quoth I. 
 
 " Then," continued Dick, " old massa governor was 
 very good, and when the old cabinet went out, he asked 
 the new President to give me a place, so I might live 
 with Mary."
 
 274 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " Then you were married before that time ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Dick, " but did it seem like marriage 
 when I lived in one place, and Mary in another ? and 
 that s the whole story." 
 
 " But how does it happen, my friend, that you have 
 so much discretionary power at the President s door ?" 
 
 " Well, Massa Walter, I ve lived in Washington long 
 enough to know almost everybody, and some I know 
 the President don t want to see, and some, he tells me, 
 he won t see, and some I don t like the looks on myself, 
 no how ! You ought to seen our house about the 4th of 
 March ; such a wolfish looking set. Ki ! worse than 
 hungry niggers !" 
 
 " How so, Dick ?" 
 
 " Well, Massa Walter, they d bow and scrape to the 
 old Irish messengers, and whine around me, and boot- 
 lick everybody they thought had anything to do with 
 the ropes." 
 
 I now rose and took leave of Mary with much friend 
 liness of feeling, and Dick escorted me to the front 
 door, where the porter stood, ready to open the king s 
 gate with great alacrity. 
 
 "Arrah! my lad, it s fooling wid ye I was, en 
 tirely." 
 
 " Better look out how you fool with my friends 
 nother time," said Dick, rather good-humoredly, as he 
 shook hands with me. 
 
 I left. 
 
 " Bad cess to the chocolate-face nager," muttered Pat,
 
 THE KITCHEN CABINET. 275 
 
 as he ushered me out. " Twasn t so in the ould gine- 
 ral s time." 
 
 That was true, for in the ould gineral s time this 
 fortunate son of the Emerald Isle had the abuse of petty 
 authority in his own hands and used it less discreetly 
 than my glorious friend Dick.
 
 276 BHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 THE FIELD WON. 
 
 SENATOR LATKOBE appeared delighted at the result of 
 the diplomacy, and laughed heartily at the account of 
 my adventure. He took a letter from the table, and 
 handed it to me. 
 
 " GENERAL 
 
 " Chief Engineer Department, 
 
 " SIR : I have the honor to address you on the application of Master 
 Walter March (belonging to my constituency) . for the position of Cadet 
 at West Point. This young gentleman is the son of a widow lady 
 (politics unknown), who lives in the city of Detroit, the relict, I am told, 
 of the late Wingfleet March, who died immediately after his election as 
 
 Deputy from the then Territory of a Jeffersonian democrat. The 
 
 present John March of Boston, is a prominent New England whig. The 
 young man himself is a democrat so the editor of the Detroit Gazette 
 states but as I have said, his mother s politics nre unknown. The 
 claims of the humblest widows and orphans of my constituency, are 
 uppermost in my mind, and I take decided interest in their peace, happi 
 ness and prosperity. 
 
 Yours, in the bonds of democracy, 
 
 " OLIVER HAZZARD PERRY HUSTINGS, M.C." 
 
 Sealed with the goddess Justice, holding a pair of 
 evenly suspended scales. 
 " Well, Waltair, what you think of that ?"
 
 THE FIELD WON. 277 
 
 " Think, sir ! why that there s not a peg in it big 
 enough to hang a hope on," I exclaimed, almost ready 
 to weep. 
 
 " Don t despair, my boy," said the good old friend of 
 my father, in a soft, sympathetic voice. " Take the 
 lettair to the department to-morrow, and see what the 
 general of engineers will say." 
 
 Accordingly, at the early office hour next morning, 
 behold me in the engineer department. There was a 
 very mild, gentlemanly clerk he had been a clerk a 
 century, I thought, from his clerkly manner and red tape 
 finish who seemed to take great interest in me. 
 
 " Good morning !" he said, with a flourish of his pen 
 over the desk. 
 
 " Good morning, sir." 
 
 " Take a chair, sir," he said, getting one from his 
 chiefs room, and smoothing the cushion as he would 
 smooth a document with a paper folder. 
 
 " Cold weather," he said, resuming his place at the 
 desk. " For two weeks, thermometer ranging between 
 six and thirty above Fahrenheit, paving-stones on the 
 avenue yielding fine silicious dust, intersections of the 
 avenues wide, great sweep for wyind from the moun 
 tains," and thus he continued, only pausing to wipe his 
 pen, and dip the point of it in his mouth, talking as if 
 copying the report of some officer on the eligibility of 
 site for a proposed fort. 
 
 I must have enjoyed the conversation of my queer 
 friend a full hour before the general came in.
 
 278 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS: 
 
 He invited me to a chair in his own office, while he 
 glanced a few moments at some letters on the table. 
 Then he moved his spectacles on the top of his head, and 
 turned towards me, asking, 
 
 "What news from your member?" 
 
 " A letter, sir." 
 
 The general dropped the spectacles on his nose, read 
 the letter, raised the spectacles on the top of his head, 
 looked at me, dropped the spectacles again, read the 
 letter again, and finally asked me, looking with a 
 troubled expression through his spectacles, 
 
 " Who the devil can make head or tail of this?" 
 
 I had nothing to say. 
 
 Then he seized his pencil in an irritated manner, and 
 endorsed something on the back of the letter, which he 
 handed me, saying, 
 
 " Ask Mr. Hustings, to please write that over in ink, 
 and sign his name to it." 
 
 " Yes, sir, thank you," and I left the office. 
 
 My good friend the clerk followed me into the hall, 
 and said, 
 
 " Which way s the wind ?" 
 
 I showed him the letter, which he read with a rapid 
 mumble, as if casting up a column of figures. 
 
 " These members," said he, " are as slippery as eels." 
 
 I then pointed to him the general s endorsement, 
 which he read with more apparent satisfaction, and said 
 as he handed me back the document, 
 
 " Foundation bad ! superstructure good ! chances
 
 THE FIELD WON.. 279 
 
 even ! Keep to the work ! Let me see you to-mor 
 row !" 
 
 Those dreadfully long Washington to-morrows! I 
 never shall forget them. Such purgatories, such heart 
 sickening under hope deferred by them. 
 
 I found the honorable member at his dinner that day, 
 and waited. When he came in, he said, 
 
 "Here yet?" 
 
 " I have not waited long, sir." 
 
 " I mean here in Washington, yet. No need of your 
 staying longer. That letter of mine will fix your flint." 
 
 " I delivered your letter, and the chief engineer has 
 endorsed something on it for you to put in ink and sign." 
 
 " Ha !" said he, changing color slightly, " let me see." 
 
 He read the endorsement aloud. " I wish the within 
 to be distinctly considered as a nomination of Master 
 Walter March for a cadetship from my district." 
 
 The honorable member frowned, took up and laid 
 down his pen. A thought seemed to clear up his brain. 
 He took the pen up again, and wrote in the pencil 
 traces, signed his name below, and handed the docu 
 ment to me, saying, 
 
 "There ! I hope that will satisfy him." 
 
 I thanked him very warmly, and withdrew. 
 
 The hoped for morrow came. M. Latrobe shook 
 hands with me as I departed from his lodgings, and 
 said. 
 
 " Let me welcome you back as Cadet March." 
 
 " I hope so, sir."
 
 280 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 There was not the least doubt now on my mind that 
 the goal was within reach, and the prize ready. 
 
 The general read the endorsement carefully. His 
 face grew humorsome in expression. 
 
 " He is satisfied," I whispered to myself. He finally 
 laughed. I did not fully like the tone of that laugh. 
 I Still I thought he would not laugh over another s mis 
 fortunes ; it must be all right. 
 
 " Mr. Tapes !" he cried. 
 
 My friend, the clerk, made his appearance. 
 
 " Can you read that word, sir ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, quite plain, recommendation." 
 
 " Just so ! just so ! I knew he would try to dodge it." 
 
 " What !" I exclaimed with affright. 
 
 " My dear sir," said the general, " your worthy 
 member has written the word recommendation, which 
 is of no account, in the place of nomination, which is 
 the whole thing in one word." 
 
 " How ?" I exclaimed, dismayed. 
 
 The general made the explanation again. 
 
 " Then what is to be done ?" I cried, that same little 
 weak, womanish tear that so often persecuted me, 
 rising now. 
 
 " The only thing you can do, my dear friend, is to 
 carry the document back to him, point out the discre 
 pancy, and ask him to correct it." 
 
 The benevolent clerk followed me out to the hall 
 again, quite excited, too, apparently forgetting- for the 
 nonce, the site of that new fort.
 
 THE FIELD WON. 281 
 
 "My dear friend, be cautious ! don t get mad, that sort 
 of thing, you know, don t pay. Throw the blame on 
 the office on me if you please tell him it s a mere 
 rule of convenience do you understand ?" 
 
 " I could throw the document in his face," I 
 exclaimed that little tear coming out. 
 
 " No ! no !" said he, looking at the tear, " twould spoil 
 all." 
 
 " Guilford never would consent to my stooping to dog 
 the heels of this person so." 
 
 " Who is Guilford ?" 
 
 " My brother, my friend, my father, my proud, good, 
 generous brother," I said. 
 
 " But what would he say if you should lose it ?" 
 
 " Better lose it, sir," said I, in a softer tone to the 
 gentlemanly clerk, " than to degrade myself." 
 
 " No degradation : no such word known here at 
 "Washington. Get what you can, and how you can, is 
 the motto here. By Jupiter ! I ll go with you." 
 
 Accordingly my new ally flew into the office, and 
 re-appeared in a moment, crumpling his hat excitedly 
 on his head. Gaining the open air, he soon recovered 
 his wonted composure, and ere we gained Mr. Husting s 
 lodgings, he was lost as deeply in his field-notes as ever. 
 Once or twice he brightened up as he turned towards 
 me probably noticing my look of forlorn despondency 
 and said, 
 
 " Cheer up, Mr. March, we ll view the work !" 
 
 The House of Representatives had adjourned over,
 
 282 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 and the member was fortunately at home. I introduced 
 Mr. Tapes, clerk in the engineer department. 
 
 " What now ?" asked the member, rather tartly, for 
 so small a matter to a statesman. 
 
 " The rules of our office, sir," said Mr. Tapes, " are 
 very precise. I may say, sir, absurdly precise." 
 
 " I should think so, too !" sneered the honorable 
 M.C. " But what s wrong now ?" 
 
 " The endorsement, sir : all right but one word, not 
 of much importance, easily mistaken for the one written, 
 but the rules of the office, sir, require " 
 
 " Let me see what you refer to." 
 
 " That word recommendation, sir, should be nomi 
 nation. 
 
 " Pshaw !" said the honorable member, representing 
 a constituency of seventy thousand, as he pushed back 
 the paper, " is that all? the words mean the same thing, 
 or nearly so." 
 
 Mr. Tapes was evidently at a nonplus. 
 
 " You will pardon me, Mr. Hustings," I said, " but 
 surely you cannot allow the great friendship you have 
 shown me in this matter, all to go for nothing now ?" 
 
 Mr. Hustings looked, or rather leered at me, with a 
 doubtful, inquiring, half-shut eye. 
 
 "The cause of widow and orphans, sir, which you 
 justly assert to be uppermost in your thoughts is one, 
 the peace, happiness, and prosperity of which you 
 would hardly sacrifice on the paltry consideration of a 
 word."
 
 THE FIELD WON". 283 
 
 " I cannot encourage this sort of dictation from the 
 departments, sir," he replied, uneasily, as if wishing to 
 divert me from a manner of speech impossible to 
 interpret. 
 
 " Sir, you are too noble ! too liberal ! to take issue 
 with them on the difference of a shade of meaning in a 
 word ?" 
 
 "Well, give me the letter," he said, petulantly. Mr. 
 Tapes handed it to him eagerly. " There," said he, as he 
 erased the objectionable term, and wrote the necessary 
 one over it, " I believe this office of chief engineer 
 should be abolished, and the business of fortification 
 controlled by a committee of Congress, as it was in the 
 French Revolution." 
 
 Mr. Tapes and myself beat a hasty retreat, leav 
 ing the member to arrange the details of his com 
 mittee. 
 
 " Does that secure it beyond a doubt?" I asked. 
 
 " Unquestionably," he cried with joy. I called for a 
 carriage. 
 
 " Take this gentleman to the War Office," I said to 
 the driver, with exultation. " What is your charge ?" 
 
 " Two dollars, massa!" 
 
 "The villain," exclaimed Tapes, stepping back from 
 the open door, " it s only worth " 
 
 " Never mind the price," I said, pushing him in, and 
 throwing the driver two Spanish dollars. 
 
 On that evening my warrant was sent to M. Latrobe, 
 whose congratulations were showered upon me with
 
 284 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 every demonstration of joy and affection. M. Latrobe 
 also handed me a short letter from my eldest brother 
 John, inclosing a bank note of considerable value, and 
 inviting me pressing me I may say, to come on to 
 Cambridge and visit him until the June term at West 
 Point should commence. I loitered in the .political 
 metropolis of the nation, long enough to study the 
 architecture of the public buildings, hear the most 
 eminent orators speak, and pay visits of farewell to my 
 friends Dick and Mary, the clergyman, and Mr. Tapes 
 with whom I dined. 
 
 Dick said that when the administration broke up he d 
 Kke to return to good old Detroit. Mary told me con 
 fidentially she was dying to go there, too. I promised 
 to find, if possible, a place that might enable them to 
 settle down comfortably, and took my leave of them 
 with a full heart. 
 
 Tapes said, coming with me to the door of his lodg 
 ings, he had a word of advice that he would respectfully 
 suggest. 
 
 "Speak it out, dear sir. I am not the head of a 
 bureau, that you should hesitate." 
 
 " Then, Mr. "Walter, don t graduate from "West Point 
 into the engineers." 
 
 ic Don t believe I could, if I wished." 
 
 " Don t try to, sir. Don t try." 
 
 " But what is the objection?" 
 
 " O ! sir, your brain would turn into lime water, you 
 would be but the carbonate of a man a walk-
 
 THE FIELD WON. 285 
 
 ing stalagmite or stalactite your building materials 
 would go to waste." 
 
 Ignorant of what lie meant, but profoundly impressed 
 with his manner, I squeezed Mr. Tapes hand, and we 
 said good-bye ! 
 
 The secret of the poor gentleman s dislike must have 
 laid in the eternal routine of his own duties, year in and 
 year out, casting up costs, quantities and qualities, of 
 " building materials for works of fortification." 
 
 John March s liberality enabled me to travel " like a 
 gentleman," as M. Latrobe would say. 
 
 Walter took passage in the railway cars for JS"ew 
 York, and in seven days found himself, neither at West 
 Point as he expected, nor at Cambridge, where he was 
 invited, but at Detroit, where he was delighted, with 
 Major Fontenoy, studying mathematics, and with Mabel 
 Latrobe, studying her, himself, and the tender passion.
 
 286 SHOE P AC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 SWEET HOME. 
 
 " THE trial is to come off in the May term of court," 
 said Guilford. 
 
 " What trial ?" I inquired. 
 
 We were sitting in the library one evening towards 
 the end of February. 
 
 " Did I not write you that we were sued at law ?" 
 
 " No, by whom ?" 
 
 " Mr. Magroy. In the first place, about a month ago, 
 I took to Mr. Magroy the amount understood to be the 
 price for the cut-off lot." 
 
 " Oh ! I m glad to hear you have secured that so 
 soon." 
 
 "Not so fast, Walter. John sent the greater portion 
 of the purchase money, and urged me to make no delay. 
 As I said, I took the amount to Mr. Magroy, but what 
 do you think ?" 
 
 " Did he say the gentleman wished to keep it?" 
 
 " No, he had bought it himself." 
 
 p >y ! 
 
 " My son," said Mrs. March, mildly, " did you learn 
 that in Washington ?"
 
 S W K E T HOME. 287 
 
 " Dear mother, your pardon." 
 
 " But, Guilford, what was the old curmudgeon s 
 excuse ?" 
 
 " "Walter," again said my mother less mildly " hard 
 names ?" 
 
 "They do nothing in Congress, mother, but call each 
 other hard names." 
 
 " Tis vulgar, dear boy, wherever you may have 
 picked it up." 
 
 " What do they call my father ?" asked Mabel, archly. 
 "No one would dare to give him a name." 
 
 " The Gentleman from Corsica," I said with a wink at 
 Guilford, " or if they wished to be severe, the Senator 
 from Waterloo." 
 
 " The canaille /" exclaimed Mabel. 
 
 " Well," said I, " this old scamp of a Magroy." 
 
 " Call him a good singer," said my mother. It was 
 her rule, when she could speak no good of a person, to 
 call him a good singer. 
 
 " This excellent singer then, Guilford, what was his 
 motive ?" 
 
 " Partly avarice, which grows upon him every day ; 
 and partly the fear of a conspiracy ; he fancies we have 
 formed one to ruin him." 
 
 " Conspiracy?" I echoed, laughing. 
 
 " Yes, I believe Mrs. Fidgets has poisoned his mind 
 with the notion." 
 
 " Fidgets ! the old " 
 
 My mother lost a stitch as she suspended her knitting
 
 288 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 on a stocking for my outfit, without looking at mo, but 
 waiting to hear if I would 
 
 " The exquisite singer ! mother." 
 
 " Fidgets is Fidgets no longer," said Maud. 
 
 " She is Mrs. Archibald Magroy, LL.D.," said Mabel, 
 in a mincing manner, imitative of the late brisk house 
 keeper. 
 
 " Is it possible ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Guilford, " Abe and the Shoepacs were 
 going to charivari them, but Major Fontenoy persuaded 
 them not to." 
 
 " Guilford had more to do with persuading them out 
 of it, than the major had," said Mabel. I did not very 
 well like the look of pride with which she regarded my 
 brother. 
 
 "I don t know," said Guilford, "I only told them 
 they d better not, on Allen s account. Poor fellow, he 
 was sufficiently shocked to hear of the marriage." 
 
 ""Well," said I, in a maze of bewilderment, "what 
 about this lawsuit ?" 
 
 " Oh ! there came a harum scarum Frenchman here, 
 from the upper country, a relative of the Fabiens, who 
 once owned this property, claiming not only our land, 
 with the cottage and all improvements, but those of the 
 whole neighborhood, likewise." 
 
 "On what plea?" 
 
 "Why that his grandfather was out of his head when 
 he made his will." 
 
 "And Mr. Magroy?"
 
 SWEET HOME. 289 
 
 " After talking with the lawyers generally, who told 
 him the costs would be great, the Frenchman was about 
 relinquishing the whole matter, when Mr. Magroy pur 
 chased his title, took the papers, names of the witnesses, 
 and all that, and is now going to contest the point in .an. 
 action of ejectment against us." 
 
 "The old" My mother paused in her knitting. 
 
 I inclined my head deferentially towards her. 
 
 " Who are his lawyers ?" 
 
 " Counsellor O Mar is the only one as yet retained on 
 that side." 
 
 "And ours?" 
 
 " Is Mr. Floury. Allen, of course, views the matter 
 with regret, and thinks his father clearly in the wrong, 
 but motives of delicacy prevents his " 
 
 " Oh yes ! I understand that, always the man, always 
 the gentleman !" 
 
 " "Well, how do you feel about it?" 
 
 " Mother and Maud seem to be devoid of fear, but I 
 am not so sanguine." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because, money is more powerful than right; 
 because, the avarice and hatred of Mr. Magroy, are 
 stimulated by the jealousy of Fidgets and jealousy is 
 cruel as the grave." 
 
 " What can the creature be jealous of? Has she not 
 married up to the top of her wishes ?" 
 
 " Yes," said my mother, " she is welcome to look 
 down upon us if she will." 
 
 13
 
 290 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " The worst I fear is, that they may carry on the suit 
 till we are no longer able to pay costs," added Guilford. 
 
 " God forbid that he should deprive us of the 
 cottage !" I said. 
 
 " Amen," said my mother, in a low voice. She rose 
 up from her seat and kissed me. " When my boy 
 Walter comes back from the strange world, and the 
 cruel wars, we must have a home for him. Maud, my 
 daughter, please sing us Sweet Home" 
 
 " Oh yes ! do Maud ! I will join in the chorus," cried 
 Mabel, enthusiastically. 
 
 My mother had laid aside her knitting, and gotten the 
 family Bible, which now lay upon her lap, as she sat 
 in the rocking-chair. Guilford laid his arm over my 
 shoulder and took my hand in his own, as we sat side by 
 side on the lounge. 
 
 Mabel was on a footstool at the feet of my sister Maud, 
 in front of the lire. 
 
 " Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, 
 
 Be it ever so humble, there s no place like home. 
 
 A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there, 
 
 Which seek through the world, is ue er met with elsewhere. 
 
 Home, home, sweet sweet " 
 
 Maud s voice died away Mabel burst into tears- 
 Walter threw himself into his mother s arms the rest 
 of that evening hymn remains unsung at Lilac Cottage, 
 to this hour.
 
 WHAT WAS SAID ON THE HOUSE-TOP. 291 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 WHAT WAS SAID ON THE HOUSE-TOP. 
 
 TIME never flew so rapidly as in the interval between 
 my appointment and my departure the beautiful 
 spring months. 
 
 My mathematics went on indifferently, after the Major 
 told me he felt secure of my passing the examination 
 preparatory for admission. I lay in the grass on the 
 lawn, or with Guilford dreamed away on the green 
 bank under the butternut trees, building more castles, 
 and loftier, brighter, than ever. This place was about 
 two miles from town, from which it was cut off by two 
 or three points of woods. But it commanded a view of 
 the spires of Saint Ann, as well as of the more ambi 
 tious new Gothic towers of the Protestant church, which 
 divided the rays of the rising and setting sun, with the 
 venerable old Saint. The river, with its variety of sails, 
 green banks, orchards, old fashioned French houses, and 
 windmills, the distant lake with its light-house, the 
 forest island that stood at its mouth; these, with the 
 woods stretching in a long purple line on our right, and 
 Millbrook farm with its meadows, dilapidated mill, apple 
 blossoms, rivulet, and the cloud-shadows on the waving
 
 292 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 fields of new wheat, made up a landscape wonderfully 
 charming for so level a country. 
 
 While memory revels among those delightful days, I 
 may not pass by an incident which then happened, and 
 its narration may serve to throw some light on the 
 character of our persecutor. 
 
 Guilford and I were reclining on Air Castle Bank one 
 serene Sunday afternoon in May, when we observed an 
 unusual column of smoke rising over the spot we always 
 fancied our house to occupy. We started to our feet, 
 and commenced running towards the city, but the 
 column growing more and more slender, and finally 
 dying away entirely, we proceeded home more lei 
 surely. 
 
 On reaching the lawn we found articles of furniture 
 lying in confusion on the grass in front of the cottage. 
 There were one or two damped blankets spread out on 
 the roof, which was charred and black for the space of a 
 few feet around the chimney, at one of the gable ends of 
 the roof. On going round to that side of the house we 
 saw the blackened water still coursing down over the 
 clapboards to the ground. It seems that the chimney 
 had taken fire, which communicated by some means to 
 the wood-work around the chimney, and under the roof- 
 
 Bowes first saw it, ran in and gave the alarm. There 
 happened to be no person near my mother and Maud, but 
 Joram Jumps. 
 
 Mrs. March at once started for the scene of action, 
 taking a bucketful of water with her, and directing
 
 WHAT WAS SAID ON THE HOUSE-TOP. 293 
 
 Maud and Bowes to do likewise. They began at once 
 to gather vessels, and fill them at the well. My mother 
 threw up a window which opened on the roof of a wing 
 of the house, whoi*e there stood a ladder, by means of 
 which she gained the upper roof, and dashing the water 
 on the smoking crevices around the chimney, stood by 
 waiting for more water. 
 
 Meantime Joram Jumps had flown through the hall, 
 flung wide open the front door, and ran down the lawn 
 crying, 
 
 " Fire ! Fire !" 
 
 My mother stood on. the ridge of the roof. The 
 breeze was playing with her hair, which had fallen about 
 her shoulders, and while Joram cried fire ! Mrs. March 
 cried, 
 
 " Water ! Water !" 
 
 Maud and Bowes, hearing my mother s voice, quick 
 ened their movements, and armed with unusual strength 
 by the excitement, soon established a line between my 
 mother and the well. Still the fire gained headway, the 
 smoke rolled out in thicker, blacker, and larger volumes, 
 and the heat began to drive my mother away from the 
 chimney. Joram crying fire ! witlf all the power of 
 locomotive lungs, ran back to the house and began to 
 carry out the furniture in his arms upon the lawn. 
 
 A tall, emaciated figure now appeared inside the gate, 
 and came hurrying along up the lawn. 
 
 "Water! water !" my mother screamed from the roof, 
 as she caught view of the new ally.
 
 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " What the Old Nick are yon doing here, yon young 
 lont?" exclaimed an excited, strong voice. "Drop that 
 mirror, and go help the women draw water." 
 
 Joram obeyed with alacrity, ran around to the well, 
 and by his assistance contributed to an immediate 
 increase in the supply of water. 
 
 The tall figure hastened into the house, gained the 
 window, was out on the lower roof, threw away a cane 
 he had hitherto carried, climbed the ladder, and was on 
 the roof between the fire and my mother, now almost 
 suffocated by the smoke. He took her place on the 
 ridge, pushed into the smoke, and dashed bucketful 
 after bucketful of water on the fire as my mother 
 handed the vessels to him. 
 
 "There he stood," said Major Fontenoy, "like a 
 prophet of old on a mountain, hey ! his tall figure 
 now looming out and anon disappearing momenta 
 rily in the smoke, hey ! till I gained the roof-top, sent 
 Mrs. March down, and posted myself in front of Mr. 
 Magroy, but the fire began to flag before I came, 
 hey!" 
 
 Maud told the story by the bedside of my mother, 
 who was prostrate and nearly blind after her heroic 
 efforts. 
 
 "But what," Guilford inquired, "became of Mr. 
 Magroy ? did he come in afterwards ? did he manifest 
 any other friendliness ?" 
 
 " No, he hobbled down the ladder as soon as the fire 
 was gotten under, sent Joram up to assist Major Fontenoy
 
 WHAT WAS SAID ON THE HOUSE-TOP. 295 
 
 in quenching the remains, and was down the lawn and 
 out at the gate before I could thank the dear old gentle 
 man." 
 
 " Do you think it was real sympathy for us, or calcu 
 lation ?" asked Guilford. 
 
 " I hope it was sympathy," Maud replied, " and I 
 rather think it was, from the kind looks he gave me as 
 he passed." 
 
 " I think it was goodness of heart," said Walter. 
 " The old gentleman is impulsive, and impulse is seldom 
 selfish or calculating." 
 
 " I don t know," said Guilford, deliberately. " If the 
 house were burned and he gained the suit " 
 
 " It was pure goodness of heart !" said my blinded 
 mother, turning impatiently on the bed. " He said to 
 
 me when the danger seemed greatest that " My 
 
 mother paused. 
 
 " "What did he say, mother ?" I asked. 
 
 " JSTo matter, my children." 
 
 And what Mr. Magroy said to my mother on the 
 house-top at the moment she was likely to become 
 houseless, still remains a mystery. 
 
 It was during the week following the fire, that the 
 case of Magroy versus March came on for trial. 
 
 It may be as well, previously to our entering into 
 the narrative of that event, to inform the reader of the 
 state of one of the high contending parties, the plaintiff 
 in the action. 
 
 Mr. Magroy s marriage with Mrs. Fidgets appeared to
 
 296 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 make the melancholy gentleman no happier, strange as 
 this may appear to the friends of that judicious lady. 
 On the contrary, Mr. Magroy fell a prey to a thousand 
 hallucinations. Major Fontenoy was going to kill him. 
 Guilford March had a mortgage on his princely mansion, 
 and was soon to turn him and his wife into the streets. 
 Miss Maud March was jealous of his wife. The doctor 
 had designs on the hand of Mrs. Magroy. 
 
 " Why sir !" expostulated the doctor, " your wife s 
 no buxom lass, no beauty, sir ! What do I, already a 
 man of family want of her? The old hag!" muttered 
 Doctor Men dry to himself. 
 
 " Sir !" said Mr: Magroy, rising up in his bed, and 
 pointing his long emaciated finger towards the door of 
 the room occupied by his wife. " Let her fix her fasci 
 nating eye on any man in America, and he s gone. 
 There s no resisting that eye," he added, falling back 
 exhausted. 
 
 Mr. Magroy s most common hallucination was that of 
 the conspiracy. Every morning his money was counted 
 over. That which he held in the bank was withdrawn, 
 and placed in the iron chest in his office, where the 
 haunted being slept. The room was provided with dou 
 ble doors, and the windows were grated with bars of 
 iron. Thus Mr. Magroy had become his own prisoner, 
 and beyond dispute, the worst jailer a wretch can have 
 is his own fears. He fancied, in his darkest moments, 
 that Allen was seeking his life, and his alternate ana 
 themas on the head of his son, and screeches for mercy
 
 WHAT WAS SAID ON THE HOUSE-TOP. 
 
 and pardon, were heard by passers by, and rumored 
 to the world. 
 
 " Sir," said Doctor Mendry, taking a pinch of Major 
 Fontenoy s snuff, and laying the forefinger of his right 
 hand in the palm of his left. "Sir, it is a remarkable 
 case. A curious feature is the wonderful knowledge 
 he exhibits in the diagnosis of his own disease. t Come 
 doctor, he will say, I wish to test the matter of my 
 sanity. Let s take a game of chess, mad or not mad. 
 You are mad, doctor. I am not mad. J: 
 
 " Facetious, hey !" said the major. 
 
 "No, sir," replied the doctor, gravely, "he means if 
 he beats me he has his senses, for, sir, it takes a well 
 man to do that." 
 
 " Yery few well men, hey !" 
 
 " Another pinch of snuff if you please, major. 
 Capital snuff, capital!" 
 
 Allen Magroy became the most sorrowful and pitiable 
 of mankind. He attempted to see his father. Mrs. 
 Magroy glared fiendishly upon the young man, who 
 she yet feared might deprive her of her anticipated 
 prey, and always pronounced Mr. Magroy too sick to be 
 seen, and emphatically said his life depended upon rest 
 and quiet. Then Allen sought Doctor Mendry. He 
 inquired whether Ms course towards his strong-minded 
 father as he had ever supposed him to be had served 
 to bring on his present state. 
 
 " No, sir, I cannot see that you have acted wrongly. 
 Your father s mind is one of peculiar mould. In fact,
 
 SHOEPAC KECOL LECTIONS. 
 
 his brain seems never to have taken time to cool. He 
 has always been of a violent, headstrong spirit." 
 
 " And you have known him how long, doctor?" 
 
 " Ever since he came to this country, sir. Ever since 
 he was a mere youth. To dictate is his ruling passion. 
 Your manliness, your independent spirit would have 
 galled him " 
 
 "Doctor! please remember " 
 
 " Pardon me, Allen, my boy. but I speak the words 
 of truth and soberness." 
 
 " Can I see my father 2" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Mrs. Magroy has denied me every day for a 
 month." 
 
 " How ?" inquired the physician, surprised. 
 
 " She has told me he was confined to his bed." 
 
 " The lying jade !" 
 
 " She is my stepmother, Dr. Mendry." 
 
 The doctor was moved. " Allen I beg a thousand 
 pardons." 
 . " You must not speak disrespectfully of one," 
 
 " Say no more. I never will. You shall see your 
 father to-day. He has been actually confined to bed 
 but once or twice." 
 
 Allen went with the doctor. His father was reading 
 the Bible, calm and clothed in his ri<iht mind. 
 
 f O 
 
 " Father," said Allen, kneeling. "I cannot surrender 
 my thoughts of others, I cannot abandon my feelings " 
 " Then, boy, what are you doing here ?"
 
 WHAT WAS SAID ON THE HOUSE-TOP. 209 
 
 " I will act on neither the one nor the other. You 
 have been unwell. It is my hand that should soothe 
 you, here it is will you take it ?" 
 
 He laid his hand on his father s knee. 
 
 " Allen, my brave boy," sobbed Mr. Magroy. " I 
 know not which has sinned." 
 
 " I have father, it is I." 
 
 " No ! no ! no !" cried Mr. Magroy, bursting into 
 wild, hysteric tears. 
 
 Allen arose from his knees. He turned towards the 
 doctor, his face streaming with tears. " Shall we go, 
 sir? shall we not leave him now, it is too much, is it 
 not?" 
 
 " ~No, stay where you are," said the doctor, curtly, 
 striving to master his own feelings, and quench his tear 
 ful emotions. 
 
 At this time Mrs. Magroy made her angelic appear 
 ance. She ran up to the chair of her husband, with 
 affected alarm. 
 
 " You would kill my husband. You would kill my 
 husband ! Mr. Magroy, do you know by whom you are 
 surrounded, what they would do ?" 
 
 " Heavens !" exclaimed Allen, " this is too much !" 
 
 " I ll manage her," quoth the doctor, then going to 
 the ex-housekeeper, he grasped her strongly by the arm, 
 urged her to the door, notwithstanding her struggles and 
 loud sharp remonstrances, and helped her out as gently 
 as her resistance would permit. " It is you, woman, 
 that is killing my patient." He closed the door and 
 turned the key.
 
 300 8HOEPAO RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 ""Was not that my wife?" demanded Mr. Magroy, 
 looking up at this moment. 
 
 " She has gone, sir," answered the doctor, kindly and 
 soothingly. "She has just stepped out." 
 
 "And you with her, sir," demanded Mr. Magroy, 
 with a fearful wild glare. 
 
 "Alas! alas!" whispered the doctor to Allen, "that 
 woman has spoiled all." 
 
 " And Nathan said unto David, thou art the man, Jl 
 shouted Mr. Magroy. " And thou too, my son 
 Reuben ? " he cried looking towards Allen. 
 
 " Go ! go now," whispered Doctor Mendry, " and 
 come another day with me." 
 
 Allen the disinherited, the distressed, departed. 
 
 Doctor Mendry engaged Mr. Magroy in theological 
 matters, and shortly succeeded in diverting his mind 
 before leaving his unhappy patient. 
 
 Mr. Magroy spent the time now conning over Scrip 
 ture texts, and Scripture stories, applying them to his 
 present circumstances, as wandering fancies led. His 
 food consisted of corn meal and molasses, for Mr. 
 Magroy, in his spectral visions, saw famine and beggary 
 besieging his doors. Mrs. Magroy was not too blind in 
 her pursuit after her victim s fortune, to perceive that 
 she had driven him too far, and now strove to quiet the 
 raging storm over which the cunning witch had presided 
 so long. There where whispers, which did not fail to 
 reach her, hinting that the law might soon step in with 
 an fnquirenflo de Lunatico, and consequent assignment
 
 WHAT WAS SAID ON THE HOUSE-TOP. 301 
 
 of Mr. Magroy to the hands of guardians his property 
 to trustees. 
 
 Mr. Magroy then gradually grew better. 
 
 Thus matters stood with the plantiff to the suit in the 
 case of Magroy vs. March.
 
 302 SIIOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE TRIAL. 
 
 " Man is unjust, but God is just ; and finally justice triumphs." 
 
 EVANGELINB. 
 
 THE trial had dragged its weary length along three 
 days and almost ceased to be the wonder of the town. 
 The judge was a Bourbon that is, his name was Bur- 
 bon, but his nose was shockingly retrousse for a Bourbon. 
 He was a large, heavy-looking man, relieved by a bright 
 eye and fair beautiful hair a heavy Egyptian column 
 crowned by a lotus. The next conspicuous court dig 
 nitary was the crier. He was a Frenchman, and cried 
 Oyez ! in the original tongue. The jury loitered in and 
 fell into their boxes one by one. 
 
 The judge took his seat this morning with the air of 
 one expecting to be bored. The crier opened the court 
 sleepily. A witness was required to be sworn. 
 
 " Antoine Lafontaine !" droned the crier, " come 
 forward and take your oats." 
 
 While Antoine is on the stand Mr. Magroy enters the 
 court-room, with his cane. Allen has reserved for his 
 father the best seat within the bar, and rising respect-
 
 THE TRIAL. "303 
 
 fully, bows as liis father plants himself there, without 
 honoring his son with so much as a nod. The old man 
 looks haggard, and perches his chin on the two hands 
 crossed over his supporting cane. 
 
 The momentary stir caused by the plaintiff s entrance 
 has scarcely died away, when it is renewed with a 
 louder hum by the entrance of a tall, handsome young 
 man, dressed in the tonish mode, whose every motion is 
 grace, polished ease, and gentle assurance, as he makes 
 his way up the middle aisle of the chamber, and through 
 the crowd that hang around over the outside of the bar ; 
 he opens the little oaken door separating the learned 
 from the laity, and steps within the bar. Young 
 Counsellor Allen Magroy is seen to rise suddenly from 
 his seat, not far from his father, and spring forward with 
 an exclamation unheard by the laity, as he seizes the 
 hand of the stranger. 
 
 " Who the deuce ?" 
 
 Is whispered inquiringly along the benches. 
 
 "There!" said one, "he seems to know the judge. 
 See ! he bows to him." 
 
 Now he shakes hands with Mr. Floury. 
 
 " But neither judge nor Mr. Floury seems to know 
 him," growls one always opposed. 
 
 " Floury shakes him heartily now," says the previous 
 whisperer, " He knows him now." 
 
 Attorney-General Floury, a tall thin man, with light 
 curling hair, remarkably wide sweet mouth, and pleasant 
 dark eyes, rises and makes a motion.
 
 804 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 "May it please your honor. I regret at this late stage 
 of the case to ask a departure from the ordinary rules of 
 the court. But knowing your honor s obliging character, 
 and the courtesy of my learned brother on the other 
 side, I am relieved from further embarrasment. Mr. 
 John March, a member of the Boston bar, has arrived, 
 and stands before your honor an applicant for admission 
 to this bar." 
 
 " If there be no objection on the part of the gentle 
 man, he is admitted, with welcome," replied his honor. 
 
 The attorney-general then proceeded. 
 
 " We thank your honor, and now your honor, \ve 
 have to move further, that this gentleman be allowed to 
 participate in the further trial of this cause, as junior 
 counsel for defendants." 
 
 The judge looked towards the counsel for the plaintiff, 
 honorable Counsellor O Mar. 
 
 That gentleman arose and said 
 
 "I have not the least objection, your honor; I am 
 only sorry that he has arived at such an advanced stage 
 of the suit. For," added the witty lawyer, " I fear now 
 that not only no Boston lawyer, but not even a Philadel 
 phia lawyer, could prevent my client from winning." 
 
 The judge bowed, and the counsellor stepped over to 
 Mr. March, shook him cordially by the hand, and the 
 laity outside saw them laugh together, as O Mar shakes 
 his head, and they overheard him say something about 
 " saltpetre not saving " something. 
 
 The worthy Antoine Lafontaine was one of the last
 
 THE TEIAL. 305 
 
 witnesses for defence. He had not been able in his tes 
 timony to help a cause considered quite hopeless. But 
 it seems that the new ally had come provided with 
 succor. For the crier was unexpectedly awakened, and 
 cried out, rubbing his eyes, 
 
 " John Baptiste Laflambeau ! come forward and take 
 your oats." 
 
 M. Laflambeau was a very old man. He now resided 
 at Montreal. Lived on his income. "Was once a tem 
 porary resident of this city, in employ as part proprietor, 
 part agent, of the American Fur Company. Knew 
 Henri Fabiens. Had heard reports at the time of his 
 temporary insanity. Never believed them. Eccentric 
 man. Honest, clear-headed, thriving to the hour of 
 his death. Knew both witnesses to his will, both 
 were dead. Heard one of them laughingly speak of 
 M. Fabiens odd ways, and say he acted like a crazy 
 man. Likewise heard him say, that M. Fabiens was no 
 more crazy than himself, and that he would be glad to be 
 crazy like him. Recognized the two witnesses signa 
 tures in the will now before him. The date was about 
 the same as that of the conversations just mentioned. 
 
 The court was now fully awake. The judge leaned 
 forward. Interrupted the witness while he wrote 
 down his testimony. Sensation on the benches of the 
 laity. 
 
 M. Laflambeau is soon allowed to retire, and two or 
 three other strange witnesses are called, whose evidence 
 goes further and further towards helping out the unfor-
 
 306 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 tunate side. Even the jury begin to pay some atten 
 tion. 
 
 Counsellor O Mar applies to the judge for leave to 
 send for new witnesses, to rebut what he calls new 
 matter. 
 
 Judge Burbon says it is not new matter, and refuses 
 the counsellor s application. 
 
 The examination of witnesses had ceased. 
 
 The evidence seems very evenly balanced. 
 
 It is noon. The judge announces an adjournment to 
 two o clock. The crier cries it to the court, but nobody 
 hears. Everybody has something to say to his neigh 
 bor, as their steps are heard shuffling over the floor and 
 down the steps leading to the street. 
 
 It is almost two o clock. The chamber of justice is 
 filled, but people pour in and overflow it. The learned 
 and witty Counsellor O Mar is to make two of his best 
 speeches, the opening and closing of the case. The elo 
 quent attorney-general is to make one, and it is said 
 that young March has arrived from Boston. He looks 
 exactly like his late father, only more dashing. He has 
 won laurels in jSTew England, and it is thought, but not 
 known, that he too will speak. That tall, gaunt, pale old 
 man, bending moodily over his cane, is the rich Mr. 
 Magroy. Not far off sits his son, the popular young 
 barrister, looking very solemnly. Just within the bar, 
 but separated by a narrow distance from the lawyers, 
 are two ladies closely veiled. They are Mrs. March and 
 her daughter, the great beauty whom everybody loves
 
 THE TRIAL. 307 
 
 for her retiring manners. By their side is the good old 
 family pastor, Mr. Cradle. Behind these are the young 
 commodore and his brother, the new cadet "Wonder 
 whether he ll come back home too proud to speak to his 
 old acquaintances?" one asks; "who knows?" Over 
 there sit Major Fontenoy and Senator Latrobe. 
 
 The clock strikes two. 
 
 The crier calls out invitingly, 
 
 " Oyez ! oyez ! oyez ! The District Court of the 
 
 United States of America, for the District of is now 
 
 open." 
 
 Counsellor O Mar rises. He is not so merry at first 
 as usual. He apologizes for his own embarrassing posi 
 tion. He was not retained for this case specially. He 
 was the rich man s business lawyer. But the case was 
 one which embraced other parties than his wealthy 
 client and the poor widow, whom he and everybody 
 knew and respected for her virtues. Titles to large pos 
 sessions in the hands of numerous possessors were at 
 stake. 
 
 He then stated the case. Its history. The history 
 and reputation of the original owner, and of owners down 
 to the present hour. He traced the changes. He then 
 went back and struck rock by rock his mazy track 
 through the tortuous current of M. Fabiens career, from 
 the fountain-head down to that dark troublesome hour of 
 his mind, when he made his will. He dwelt upon the 
 symptoms of his lunacy. He quoted medical works in 
 which those symptoms were clearly denned, and assigned
 
 308 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 to the cause he wished the jury to infer. That M. 
 Fabiens had certainly been crazy, was frequently crazy, 
 and showed the most indisputable signs of craziness, 
 both just before, and just after, and just at the day, hour 
 and minute, when he made the will, was patent to the 
 spectators, and proof positive to the enlightened jurors. 
 There was not the least doubt in the mind of Walter 
 March, a party concerned. Walter eyed the assembly, 
 their faces bore no shade of doubt. I peered over at 
 M. Latrobe and Major Fontenoy ; the honest soldier 
 wore a troubled look. M. Latrobe I could not read. I 
 glanced at Mr. Magroy, and saw the grim smile of satis 
 faction which illuminated his face. I gazed at the 
 judge ; the judge s attention was fixed on the advocate 
 impassive. 
 
 Mr. O Mar now descended into the reputation of the 
 two witnesses. Proved it unimpeachable. He then 
 picked up and analyzed -the meaning of every word 
 proved to have been let fall by those two worthies. His 
 analysis here was masterly at one moment so profound, 
 and at the next so witty that the jury shook their fat 
 sides, and the laity shook their benches. Having made 
 the most complete and satisfactory statement, and having 
 analyzed and weighed the evidence, he went on to the 
 argument of the points of law. His logic was to me 
 irresistible. Finally came his brief recapitulation, and 
 his brilliant peroration. When he sat down, the spec 
 tators did not burst into a cheer, as I anticipated, but 
 there were murmurs of applause rippling over the house.
 
 THE TRIAL. 309 
 
 I felt myself that our case was already hopeless, that 
 our title was baseless, and half began to feel that Mr. 
 Magroy was an injured man. 
 
 Mr. John March arose. 
 
 He complimented the learned counsellor. He had 
 listened, he said, as to a father in the law. He referred 
 a moment to the peculiarity of his own position. He 
 congratulated himself on seeing here among the jury 
 men, even under such unpleasant circumstances, the 
 familiar countenances endeared to childhood and his 
 boyish years. He spoke respectfully, even tenderly, of 
 the plaintiff, of his learning and public spirit, and was 
 even proud to acknowledge here in public, that by his 
 efforts the cottage, the very mansion forming a part of 
 the property in litigation, was saved from the fiery 
 element. 
 
 He then said, he would leave to his senior the answer 
 to that part of the learned brother s address, which 
 touched on the evidence given previous to his participa 
 tion in the case. It formed the whole of the evidence 
 for the prosecution, but he would confine himself to 
 urging the force of that part of the evidence for the 
 defence which he himself had introduced, and to the 
 points of law in the case. With reference to the evi 
 dence, he advanced so boldly, deduced so broadly, 
 charged so impetuously, that I began to fear for him. 
 But how gallantly he sustained himself! He began to 
 compare notes with the construction put by Counsellor 
 O Mar upon expression after expression the Canadian
 
 310 SHOEPAC KE COLLECTION 8. 
 
 patois of which he pronounced so exactly that the jury 
 began to smile, and finally roared. His shrewd wordly- 
 wise maxims, addressed to the jury while he held them 
 now shaking with laughter, now looking wise and com 
 plimented, with the wonderful intelligence he attributed 
 to them, told with great eifect. Then he addressed the 
 judge on the law points. In this part of his address, I 
 do not think John fairly competed with the counsellor. 
 But he did his best. He quoted Story and Greenleaf ; 
 he expounded and argued, and illustrated by similar 
 cases, and made it all very clear if Counsellor O Mar 
 hadn t preoccupied the ground. Then modestly leaving 
 the further charge of this part of the case to his senior, 
 he went into a frank account of the relative positions of 
 plaintiff and defendant. This portion he addressed of 
 course to the jury. He referred them back some of 
 them to early times. Times when Mr. Magroy and 
 the husband of the defendant were young adventurers 
 together. When the world and fortune went against 
 the former, and favored the latter. "When he spoke of 
 it with reluctance, but for the sake of the cause about 
 the very time Mr. March made the purchase of the 
 homestead now in question, he granted out of his slender 
 means, the first assistance the blunt, ill-favored young 
 Scotchman ever received at American hands, lie dwelt 
 not long here, but he did emphasize the notoriety both 
 of Mr. March s T)ona fide purchase, and of the indis 
 putable nature of the title which was derived from the 
 son of old M. Fabiens, deceased, and well known as an
 
 THE TRIAL. 311 
 
 eccentric but never, never a crazy being ; a being to 
 whose foresight the city was. even now indebted for the 
 beauty and business convenience of its growth. He 
 spoke of the uninterrupted prosperity of Mr. Magroy 
 after the first stepping-stone, and of Mr. >March s more 
 toilsome career as a business man ; of the friendship 
 subsisting so warmly between the two families up to the 
 time of Mr. March s decease ; of Mr. Magroy s sudden 
 and surprising coldness, and from that day his increasing 
 enmity ; his persecution, by getting into his hands the 
 agency of the cottage payments, and exacting such rigid 
 compliance under the most Avretched circumstances of 
 Mrs. March, and in the worst times, times when men 
 universally relaxed the rigidity of their just claims; 
 his persecution, by attempting to deprive the family of 
 the assistance derived from the salary of Guilford 
 March ; nay, his purchasing this worthless title itself; 
 his contumelious insults to Mrs. March (great sensa 
 tion among the spectators) ; his slanderous accusations 
 against the spotless character of her daughter. (Im 
 mense sensation, and looks of wonderment and indig 
 nation.) It was necessary then, he continued, not noti 
 cing the tumult, which soon subsided, to search for the 
 secret cause of this long series of events. The tears 
 stood in the young lawyer s eyes, as he looked towards 
 Allen, his dearest friend, and apologized in a manly, 
 friendly, and delicate way, for dragging family secrets 
 into such an arena. Poor Allen was overcome, and 
 burying his face in his handkerchief, said in a low husky 
 voice
 
 312 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " Go on. Go on, for all our sakes." 
 
 My brother then adverted to the grand motive of the 
 plaintiff s conduct. His laudable ambition for his son, 
 and at the same time his unparental conduct, his harsh 
 ness, and violence, his fears lest he should many into a 
 poor family. His malice against the unfortunate mem 
 bers of that family, the innocent, yet lasting monuments 
 of his own days of early poverty. 
 
 At this disclosure cries of " Shame ! shame ! shame !" 
 were heard. 
 
 The proud old Mr. Magroy raised his head, and turn 
 ing towards the spectators, flung upon them fierce looks 
 of defiance and rage. 
 
 Renewed and louder, and more numerous cries of 
 " Shame ! shame ! shame !" arose. Mr. Magroy stood up 
 and faced the assembly. 
 
 The judge threatened to clear the court, and John 
 begged the multitude to save him and his family the 
 pain of any expression of their feelings. The jury 
 regarded the scene with amiable benevolence. The 
 foreman thought the people ought to consider both sides, 
 and the other jurymen nodded "yes." Mr. John 
 March resumed. 
 
 The highest proof possible of the existence of the feel 
 ings he had disclosed on the part of his honored friend 
 the plaintiff consisted in the treatment of his own, his 
 only, son. Driven from the paternal roof penniless, 
 disinherited for ever, this youth had grown up in the 
 midst of the gentlemen of the jury, the child of evil for 
 tunes, as one born under some malignant star ; and yet
 
 THE TRIAL. 313 
 
 his manner of life was the best guarantee for his inno 
 cence and virtues, and his unmerited persecution, along 
 with that of an innocent family, with whom too such 
 had been his desire to comply with the wishes of his 
 father he had had no sort of personal intercourse for 
 years, but had been a self-banished man, where he was 
 most loved and best known ; a hermit near a garden of 
 roses ; an outcast with paradise in view. Some one 
 called out, " Three cheers for Allen Magroy !" The 
 crowd arose and gave three cheers. 
 
 The judge s face lightened, the marshal s voice thun 
 dered without avail. 
 
 In the confusion the heavy falling of a body was unno 
 ticed by all but Allen Magroy and M. Latrobe, both of 
 whom sprang to the assistance of the elder Mr. Magroy, 
 who now lay upon the floor, his mouth bleeding pro 
 fusely. They raised him in their arms. The spectators 
 who were nearest to the little partition which separated 
 the court from the laity, made an effort to get within, 
 but were repelled by the marshal and his assistants. 
 The judge pathetically requested that order and silence 
 might be restored, to save him the necessity of clearing 
 the court at a moment when so great and general an 
 interest was felt in the cause. 
 
 The spectators complied with his just appeal, and 
 order and silence prevailed. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Magroy was raised to a chair. He 
 coughed and spat out large quantities of blood. At last 
 he was able to utter in a faint voice, 
 
 14
 
 314 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " Thy forgiveness Allen. I have wronged thee. Oh ! 
 God ! I see it now. I see " his voice sank away. 
 
 Allen was silently weeping. M. Latrobe had already 
 dispatched a messenger after Doctor Mendry. The 
 clerk of the court brought a pitcher of water. Mr. 
 Magroy drank and grew apparently easier. 
 
 " Is shahere Allen ?" 
 
 "Who, my father?" 
 
 ""Who? who but Maud the daughter of my old 
 friend ? The daughter of the only woman I ever loved, 
 and whom I never forgave for marrying him. 
 
 " Is she here ? quick ! good people, quick !" 
 
 My mother and Maud stood near the wretched dying 
 man. 
 
 " Here is Maud," said M. Latrobe. 
 
 " Truly she ? I grow blind and dizzy," he murmured, 
 and a new fit of coughing up blood ensued. 
 
 More water was administered. His voice came back. 
 
 " Give me your hand, Allen. You forgive me 2" 
 
 " God knows I do, and did long, long ago." 
 
 " Now hers, haste !" he cried. 
 
 M. Latrobe placed the hand of my sister in that of 
 the cold, quivering man. 
 
 He put it in Allen s. 
 
 " My children, be hap-py !" 
 
 Doctor Mendry urged his way through the crowd. 
 
 Too late ! Too late ! 
 
 The hush of death suddenly falls on the assembly. The 
 pulse of Time stands still. . A calm sweet voice is heard.
 
 THE TKIAL. 315 
 
 " O God all seeing, all listening, all feeling, all know 
 ing, God ! who weigheth not our merits, but pardoneth 
 oar offences, receive into thy bosom, we beseech thce, 
 the troubled spirit of our brother." 
 
 The low amen was heard like a murmur of the sea. 
 And the pulse of Time went on.
 
 316 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 PROSPECT AND RETROSPECT. 
 
 Old Time will end our story, 
 
 But no time, if we end well, will end our glory. 
 
 BEAUMOST & FLETCHER. 
 
 THE period of my furlough from the Military 
 Academy, at the end of two years from admission, was 
 selected for the consummation of two events. It was 
 likewise the occasion of Major Fontenoy s return from 
 Europe, whither he had gone to seek diversion from 
 tmrest and loneliness. The better to shake off painfully 
 pleasing associations he had cut himself off meanwhile, 
 even from correspondence with us. 
 
 Major Fontenoy. "Then Magroy left a statement in 
 writing, which has created pity and respect for his 
 memory, hey, Walter." 
 
 Walter. " Yes, it was found with the will. I have 
 been favored with a copy. Here it is : 
 
 " From frequent attacks on brain and body, I am 
 solemnly warned that Archibald Magroy s remaining 
 sands are few and fleetino-. Even this moment is but an
 
 PROSPECT AND RETROSPECT. 317 
 
 interval between periods of attack, which drive me mad. 
 I have done injustice to many, and unhappily worse, to 
 those I love best on earth. First, to the relict of my 
 early friend and benefactor, "Wingfleet March. She was 
 the only woman I ever loved as a man should love, and 
 the only being I ever hated as a man can hate. Her 
 preference for another stung me to the heart. I never 
 asked the world s sympathy, but my all necessary, my 
 only craving for human love was shipwrecked on her. 
 I quickly married after my rejection, and plunged into 
 business and study. My hatred was dissembled till the 
 death of Mr. March, in whose business perplexities I 
 held an unseen hand. But as soon as he was gone I 
 rushed openly after my prey. From that hour my 
 extreme wretchedness began. There is no peace for the 
 wicked. Amen. 
 
 [ANOTHER DATE.] 
 
 " I feel deeply humiliated and penitent, and have felt 
 so during lucid intervals for years. Yet ever since 
 revenge became dominant, a horrible, irresistible black 
 ness of darkness has enveloped my senses, and covered 
 the light of faith, reason, and conscience, which yet 
 ever and anon flashes out like the lightning. The Bible 
 has at such moments been my solace. Yet in my 
 clouded hours the texts and events of the holy book 
 haunt my gloomy imagination like gibbering spectres, 
 wearing the forms of the dearest ones on earth.
 
 318 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 [ANOTHER DATE.] 
 
 " To God, whom I love when reason sits with me, I 
 commend my spirit for forgiveness. To men I make 
 what reparation lies in my power. My son is beyond 
 the reach of want. He is the architect of his own good 
 name, a true American. I leave him my blessing. : 
 
 Walter. "This is all that was found written by his own 
 hand. In the will, a tutorship for the classical language 
 is endowed at the University, a legacy of three hundred 
 a year is left to the present Mrs. Magroy, whom he calls 
 Mistress Fidgets, that cunning promptress of evil ; a 
 thousand a year is left to Maud March ; that portion 
 of Lilac Cottage premises, which he had lately pur 
 chased, is left to Guilford ; to the city he devises a large 
 park, to be selected and the grounds laid out and 
 adorned by Major Fontenoy. The remainder, constitu 
 ting the bulk of his fortune, was devised to my mother 
 without conditions." 
 
 Major. " Had some honor, hey ! I knew it, hey ! 
 And the executors ?" 
 
 Walter. " Are M. Latrobe and Guilford March." 
 
 Major." By-the-by, how does the young commo 
 dore, hey, prosper ?" 
 
 Walter. " He has risen with the tide of prosperity, 
 which seems to have overflown the banks of the whole 
 country bordering on these inland seas. His activity 
 has kept pace with the demands of the swelling sail of
 
 PKOSPECT AND EETROSPECT. 319 
 
 a commerce, whose rapid advance has astonished the 
 world." 
 
 Major. " Rather high-flown speech for a soldier, 
 hey !" 
 
 " In short, he is called the Young Commodore of the 
 Lakes." 
 
 Major." Rich, hey ! Good ! hey !" 
 
 Walter. "Not yet rich, dear major. Too much at 
 stake yet." 
 
 Major. " Ever think of farm life ?" 
 
 Walter. " Yes, it is still the phantom he sees beyond, 
 and follows afar. He has just purchased and fitted up 
 Millbrook cottage, and, with a pony phaeton, will 
 drive into town to do his business. He hopes in a few 
 years to be able to retire, and abandon the exciting 
 world for the soothing employments of rustic life 
 that is, on a large scale." 
 
 The scene changes, and the major and myself stand in 
 the library of Lilac Cottage, in the midst of perfumed 
 bouquets, floating veils, white gloves and flowing robes. 
 Here is the Rev. Mr. Cradle, now D.D., but Doctor 
 Cradle don t sound familiar quite yet. And here is 
 M. Latrobe to give away the brides. And here is the 
 mother I was going to say of both brides. And here 
 finally are the major, John and his wife, and Guilford 
 March. 
 
 Wedding guests are waiting in parlor and hall. The 
 door is thrown open. Dr. Cradle moves forward in 
 advance, the two happy couples follow after. Allen
 
 320 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 and Maud first, a splendid couple ; she with downcast 
 eyes, her veil and bridal- wreath circling those light 
 waves of hair, breaking into fleecy foam around her 
 shoulders, and he with his long black locks and proud 
 yet gentle motion, graceful as ever. Then Guilford and 
 Mabel. He a frank, hearty, stout youth, with rounded 
 face and girl-like eyes, and she, Mabel ! my Mabel 
 
 My eyes swam so whenever I looked at her, and do 
 so now when I think of it, I could not see. I cannot 
 describe Mabel. Then came Major Fontenoy and 
 myself, the two groomsmen, who took our places on the 
 flanks of the line when brought up. Finally my mother 
 and M. Latrobe. No, the last of all was Bowes, rubbing 
 her hands on the cleanest white muslin apron one ever 
 saw. 
 
 "But how were the brides dressed?" everybody asks. 
 
 Truly that is beyond my knowledge. But if the pub 
 lisher will wait till I can ask Mabel 
 
 Ah ! that was one of the last of the good old fashioned 
 weddings in our city so I have often been told. They 
 promise me the like of it when I bring my bride. 
 Alas ! good friends, that day will never come ! Major 
 Fontenoy and I are sworn lovers for life. 
 
 " But how did the major come to go to Europe ? 
 There is some mystery about that ?" 
 
 Only three of us knew it. The major, myself, and 
 Mabel. 
 
 " What ! did the little witch flirt with the good old 
 major ?"
 
 PROSPECT AND RETROSPECT. 321 
 
 No. She never flirts that is she never intends to 
 flirt. But some way or other, the major, silly simpleton ! 
 fell into the dazzle of her eyes. 
 
 " Julius Caesar, hey !" he swore to me, confidentially. 
 " I couldn t help it! if there were a whole battalion of 
 Mauds and Mabels before me, all standing at charge 
 bayonet, I couldn t help dropping on my knees to each 
 one in succession, with an offer of my hand, hey ! 
 emphatically, hand, hey !" 
 
 " Dear major," I cried, " this hand is the helper of 
 widows, it has encouraged weakness, and poverty, and 
 distress. It has flashed in the eyes of the oppressor. 
 And," I added, smiling, " it has waved as handsome a 
 compliment to lady fair, as that of any Chevalier Bayard 
 of the olden time." 
 
 And again we renewed our vows of mutual fidelity 
 for life. 
 
 But on with your story, sir. 
 
 Allen and Maud dwelt with Mrs. March until the 
 death of Fidgets, whom my mother prevailed upon 
 without difficulty to occupy the Magroy mansion. 
 Allen then took his little bird to dwell among the 
 boughs of the paternal tree. Two fledglings, Mabel and 
 Fontenoy, chirp from their nest. 
 
 I returned home again on graduating from "West 
 Point, and deposited my diploma in a cylindrical tin 
 box with Guilford, who by this time had built a sweet 
 little house just large enough for me and my friend 
 
 the Major directly above the butternut bank. To this 
 
 14*
 
 322 SHOEPAC EECOL LECTIONS. 
 
 delightful spot Mabel comes every morning, when I 
 visit them on furlough, and sits with her sewing, and 
 little Walter, or little Maud, and the Major and me, 
 while little Guilford blows dandelions and chases butter 
 flies outdoors. In fact, they have been with me while 
 chronicling the events of our family history ; and fallen 
 out of patience into a passion over it, so many times, 
 and so often protested they would have no such respon 
 sibility in the affair, predicting my utter failure and dis 
 grace in trying my hand at authorship, that I have 
 ceased to consult them altogether. 
 
 Meanwhile, the war with Mexico came on. Major 
 Fontenoy got a regiment, and on the close of the cam 
 paign again left the service with the rank of gene 
 ral. 
 
 " Walter was breveted twice for gallantry, and is now 
 called Major March." 
 
 I protest, gentle reader, that my friend Fontenoy wrote 
 that sentence in my absence. I have no false modesty 
 in the matter, but as I have travelled along with you so 
 far as a stripling, I prefer not to be known as an old 
 
 %y- 
 
 The youngsters are treading on my weary old heels, 
 and I am innocently trampling on their ambitious toes. 
 It is the hope of both parties, however, that the next 
 Congress, with their young life, and opposed as they will 
 be to the rust lingering on our institutions, it is hoped, 
 I say, that they may pass a law creating a retired list for 
 us worn out veterans.
 
 PROSPECT AND RETROSPECT. 323 
 
 Though confessedly " the happiest iiiaii in America, 
 yet, in one respect, Guilford the Doer s youthtfnl expec 
 tation is not realized. His mother cannot be prevailed 
 upon to forsake Lilac Cottage for Millbrook. She says 
 she must keep up the old house for Walter s sake, and 
 continues to delude herself with the fond hope of my 
 bringing her a new daughter some day. Meantime, she 
 does the honor of Lilac Cottage with old French hospi 
 tality. Here the young people all gather to keep holi 
 day, and assisted by Bowes, together with Dick and the 
 blue-eyed Mary, who, with their children, live in a little 
 cottage below, on what was known as the cut-off, Mrs. 
 March dispenses flowers among her neighbors, and 
 charity and gentle words to the poor of the city. 
 
 M. Latrobe-*-now no more retiring from the cares 
 of state, and the pursuits of business, divided his green 
 old age between Lilac Cottage and Millbrook. 
 
 o -> 
 
 Abe, who was forced to abandon stage-driving, by the 
 laying of railway tracks, for a modern city hack, came 
 at last to Guilford his last school-fellow " Abe said, 
 and besought to be admitted to Millbrook, where he 
 turns out a capital ostler, though but a tolerable farmer. 
 His shining, and high-mettled steeds, with brass- 
 mounted saddles, burnished to the skies, are always at 
 the service of Major no, General Fontenoy and myself. 
 The general takes a five-railed fence at a leap with his 
 horse, while I am fain to take down the bars by hand. 
 
 Poor Tapes is dead.
 
 324 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Gentle reader ! If over the dreamy career of "Walter 
 March, or the more practical good deeds of his friends, 
 you find aught to feed upon with pleasure, or to sip with 
 the refreshing of useful truth, let this be the acknow 
 ledgment of his chief reward, and the response of a 
 Grateful heart.
 
 JEPTHA JUMPS SPEECH. 325 
 
 JEPTHA JUMPS SPEECH. 
 
 Take heed what you say, sir ! 
 An hundred honest men ! why, if there were 
 So many i th city, twere enough to forfeit 
 Their charter. 
 
 SHIRLEY S GAMESTER. 
 
 ON my return home from Washington, I saw the 
 name of Jumps in the Gazette. He was now a mem 
 ber of the State Legislature. 
 
 I called at his lodgings immediately, and sent up my 
 name to the Honorable Jeptha Jumps. He seemed as 
 pleased to receive me as if he were still a common 
 mortal, for which I felt duly grateful. 
 
 " I am in the swamp now, you know !" he said. 
 
 "Do you term the House of Representatives of a 
 sovereign state a swamp ?" 
 
 " Yes." he answered, " worse than any tamarack 
 swamp, a tarnation sight ; full of pricks and thorns, and 
 muddy water up to here." He raised his forefinger to 
 his neck which, by the way, now sported a white 
 , cravat. 
 
 " How did you get into the scrape ?" 
 
 " Wall, last autumn, after depositing my hopeful 
 Joram with your folks, I took a tramp out West, to see
 
 t326 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 the oak openings and the pe-rairah lands. And arter 
 I came home the boys in my neighborhood run my 
 name up on the trees as candidate for this ere office. I 
 tried to haul off, but it warn t no kind of use ; have me 
 in they would, for, says they, you re the only honest 
 man in the district, soft saudering me up, you see." 
 
 " Who was your competitor ?" 
 
 " The Rev. Mr. Milkwhite ; so, you see, I had all the 
 petticoat influence agin me," said J umps. with a wink. 
 "That feeble pattern of human nater attempted to 
 catch my daughter, too !" 
 
 " What !" I exclaimed, " not Susannah ?" 
 
 " Yes, my little Suz, sir. He courted her off and on 
 for two years, and she refused him regularly every 
 month ; he preached to her about having a call to be a 
 minister s wife, and doing good in the world, prayed 
 over her, besieged my wife and half made her crazy, 
 too. Finalty, Suz came to me and said she couldn t 
 stand it. I ll adopt a course, says I ; so down I goes to 
 where the crittur lives, and says, says I : Rev. Mr. 
 Milkwhite, you mustn t come around my house persecu- 
 tin my Suz. She don t take a likin to you, and won t 
 have you no how. Then the crittur promised as how 
 he d let her alone on his sacred word of honor. But 
 what should appear at Green Run next day but the 
 whole session ? They walked straight into my house, and 
 held a prayer-meeting over Suz I wasn t to hum 
 wrestled in spirit with my wife, and made her and Suz 
 both cry, and said it was her solemn bounden duty to 

 
 JEPTHA JUMPS SPEECH. 327 
 
 marry that ere little snipe of a parson. My wife gin in 
 to them. But Suz, she held out till I cum hum, and the 
 way I made old Pipelegs, Peppergrass, and the rest on 
 em, scatter, was a caution now, I tell you no more of 
 Rev. Mr. Milkwhite at my house, I tell you. 
 
 " Wall, since that, the tarnation little crittur has 
 slandered me on all occasions behind my back told 
 the neighborhood I w r as a heathen, and dead to the 
 cause of Christianity, and when he heard I was candi 
 date for the Legislature, he up and said he d run agin me. 
 That was the time I took off my coat, Walter." 
 
 " I dare say," replied I, laughing. 
 
 "They d got sick of the village lawyer, and all on 
 em owed the village doctor, and the village shopkeeper 
 wouldn t trust most on em for cotton calico, and indigo 
 blueu, and so they came down on me." 
 
 " How do you feel in your new position 2" 
 
 " Like a French hunter, paddlin his canoe among 
 lame ducks in among the rushes." 
 How so?" 
 
 " Wall, every now and then, in some of my strokes, 
 I hit one of em without seein or thinkin of the critturs, 
 and he hain t got wings to fly out of my way, but still 
 manages to dive under and come up somewhere else." 
 
 Shortly after this interview, I attended an evening 
 session of the House. The measure under consideration 
 was one of general interest ; viz. the railway system. 
 After several long and one short speech, from excited 
 members, each in favor of a road through his district,
 
 328 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Mr. Jumps arose, with bis honest face ancl white 
 cravat. 
 
 " Mr. Speaker." 
 
 The members winked at each other, and many 
 gathered round Mr. Jumps, crowding the seats nearest 
 him, and forcing the occupants and owners thereof to 
 withdraw some of their lower limbs and great cowhide 
 boots from the tables in front of them. 
 
 " What few words I shall have to say, Mr. Speaker, I 
 hope will be plum to the bull s eye." 
 
 A titter. 
 
 " The honorable gentlemen who have jined in the dis 
 cussion thus far have hunted all around Robin Hood s 
 barn, and missed the crittur after all." 
 
 People begin to fill the galleries. 
 
 " It seems to me, Mr. Speaker, that gentlemen discuss 
 this bill on the principle of you tickle me and I ll 
 tickle you-, you streak a railroad through my village 
 and I ll streak one by your farm." 
 
 " I proposed nothing of the sort !" exclaimed an hon 
 orable member from a distant village, in an excited 
 manner, " and whoever says so " 
 
 "Lame ducks? Mr. Speaker, lame ducks!" said Mr. 
 Jumps, very composedly. The members cried out 
 generally, " Good ! good ! hit him again, honest Jeptha. 
 Sit down, Fleece Sit down." The honorable Mr. 
 Fleece subsided into his seat in sulky, defiant silence. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Speaker, if there s any more lame ducks 
 to flutter here this evening, 1 beg on em to wait till I m
 
 JEPTHA. JUMPS SPEECH. 329 
 
 done, for they take up the time of the House, and throw 
 it on my shoulders. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Speaker, we must buckle into this subject 
 like men working to lay the foundations of permanent 
 institutions, and not like time-serving politicians, looking 
 out every man for himself" 
 
 " And the devil take the hindmost !" broke in a coarse- 
 looking man, with long legs, coiled upon the table in 
 front of him. 
 
 " I never use such words," said Mr. Jumps, with real 
 dignity. " I leave them to the lips of my honorable 
 friend over the way. Gentlemen will find it best to 
 let me alone, Mr. Speaker, perhaps, before the end of 
 the session," said Mr. Jumps, taking a glass of water. 
 
 " Yes, sir, we must adopt a course, we must act the 
 part of men held to reckoning by posterity." 
 
 " What has posterity ever done for me ?" demanded 
 a member. 
 
 " Nothing ! and I kind o reckon it never will !" 
 returned Mr. Jumps. 
 
 The Speaker s mallet descended. The House came to 
 order, and Mr. Jumps was not interrupted again. 
 
 " Sir, we have had some experience already pressed 
 home to our hearts and pockets. What do we see on 
 every side of us ? Wild-cat banks, sir, howling through 
 the midnight air of these dark and troublesome times. 
 Wild-cat banks, with broken legs and broken heads, 
 and, sir, if I had my way, I d adopt a course, sir, I d cut 
 off all their tails as a warning to posterity, and hang em
 
 330 SHOEPAC KE COLLECT IONS. 
 
 on the political landmarks of which gentlemen have 
 talked so loud and so learned. 
 
 "Then, Mr. Speaker, look at our schools. Congress 
 donated a harnsome fund of wild lands, out of which, 
 with prudence and foresight, we might, and onghter have 
 raised up a system of schools, with its mother university, 
 that would not only pay their own keeping, but pay 
 something into the depleted treasury of the State. 
 
 " Sir ! we have nothing in the shape of State schools 
 but broken-down branches of a university that has 
 neither root nor trunk, affording nothing to the people, 
 nothing to nobody, but the old ravens that croak more ! 
 more ! more ! from the nests in the branches which they 
 have feathered themselves into so nicely. 
 
 " Now, sir, this will be the story of the railroad, too, if 
 we rush into the same system of reckless extravagance. 
 The intarnal improvements of the State will all run to 
 waste. No, sir, let us begin with moderation and econ 
 omy, and sure as Dabol s arithmetic, thrift and prosperity 
 will follow. Let us jine hands on some one route most 
 convenient to all sections, and do what we can on that 
 till Congress comes up to our help. And, sir, Congress 
 soon will come. The interests of the West will not be 
 much longer neglected. We have a mighty West ! a 
 broad, beautiful West! the tract of our wilderness is 
 wide as the ocean, sir. These States are filling up rap 
 idly, and will have a mighty voice one of these days. 
 Their voice will be heard from Dan to Beersheba, and 
 there ll be a shakin among the dry bones, I reckon.
 
 JEPTHA JUMPS SPEECH. 331 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Speaker, we have a goodly heritage. I see 
 the West before me now. Her oak openings are like 
 the garden of Eden. Her forests are boundless. The 
 etarnal scope of her pe-rairahs is unlimited. Sir," said 
 Mr. Jumps, solemnly concluding, " we must adopt a 
 course."
 
 332 BHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF WINDSOR. 
 
 A FRONTIER EPISODE. 
 
 ONE evening, my brother Guilford and myself were 
 out enjoying the beauties of such a blue star-lit sky as 
 King March sometimes canopies himself under after the 
 tumult of a storm. A little way above the city we 
 were overtaken by a sturdy-looking pedestrian, with a 
 knapsack strapped to his shoulders, and a belt around 
 his waist, to which were fastened a bowie-knife and a 
 tin cup. 
 
 " That is a patriot," whispered Guilford. 
 
 The city was filled with Canadian refugees, together 
 with a promiscuous gathering from various parts of the 
 United States, intent on taking part in the quarrel 
 between the provinces and the mother country. The 
 people along the American frontier sympathized deeply 
 with the revolutionists and it was whispered among 
 the quid mines, that even gentlemen connected with 
 both state and general governments contributed secretly 
 to the cause. For these reasons, unless men were found 
 actually assembled in arms, they were not likely to 
 be molested individuals, notoriously known to be 
 " patriots," came and went openly.
 
 THE BATTLE OF WINDSOR. 333 
 
 " Shall we accost him ?" inquired Walter. 
 
 " If you like," replied Guilford. 
 
 In a moment we were at the side of the stranger. 
 
 Guilford. " Good evening, friend." 
 
 Stranger." Yes ! what of it ?" 
 
 Walter. " A fine night, sir." 
 
 Stranger. " Fine enough for those who like it." 
 
 Walter. Half provoked " Fine enough ? Like it ? 
 Like the stars ! like the sweet smell of spring ! which 
 you may scent afar, as the horse snuffs the battle, and 
 dilates his nostrils with pleasure and exultation !" 
 
 Stranger. " What do you know about battles, boy ?" 
 
 The patriot seemed to notice for the first time my 
 youthfulness, and grew sociable. 
 
 Walter. (Laughing) " It is a subject, sir, in which I 
 take a deep interest." 
 
 Stranger. (In a low tone) " Then perhaps you can 
 tell me where the encampment lies." 
 
 Walter. " What encampment?" 
 
 Stranger. " The patriot." 
 
 Guilford. " Where were you directed to go ?" 
 
 Stranger. "To the second point of woods, I think 
 they called it Shane s Point." 
 
 Guilford. " Chene s Point ! you have taken the 
 wrong road to distinguish the points running out from 
 the woods. But, by following this road till you come 
 to" 
 
 Stranger. " Don t believe I can find it, sir, perhaps 
 you might be going part way."
 
 334 SIIOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Guilford. " Oh. yes. What do you say, Walter. 
 Shall we go to the encampment ?" 
 
 Walter. " It would be quite an unexpected adven 
 ture certainly, let s go." 
 
 Guilford. " I take it, messmate, you are a patriot." 
 Stranger. " Yes, shouldn t wonder. What of it ?" 
 Guilford." From Ohio ?" 
 Stranger." No, Canada. What of it?" 
 Guilford. " Are there many Canadians here now ?" 
 Stranger. " Yery few. But we fight in earnest : 
 but what of it ? we fight for our country, not for plunder ; 
 I Mash there were more of us. You Yankees talk a deal 
 in the papers, and make great speeches, but when it 
 comes to actual fighting you d rather let it out. But 
 what of it ? all the same in a hundred years." 
 Walter. " Are you an Englishman ?" 
 Stranger. " No, I emigrated from York State with 
 my father and folks fifteen years ago, and settled not far 
 from Hamilton. We got on very well till this revolu 
 tion began to make a stir. Then we were suspected 
 right off. What of it ? cried I might as well be hung 
 for an old sheep as a lamb. So I raised all the money I 
 could, and determined to devote myself to the good 
 cause. My father was pretty old, but as many of the 
 people around us were secretly patriots, he thought he 
 could take care of my young wife and the two unmaried 
 girls. The night after I left, gentlemen, my house was 
 burnt to the ground, my father killed, and my sisters and 
 wife "
 
 THE BATTLE OF WINDS OK. .535 
 
 The stranger suddenly ceased speaking. His teeth 
 gnashed together. 
 
 Guilford. (After a moment, when the patriot became 
 composed)" I wish I could help you, sir. Can you not 
 go on with your story ?" 
 
 Stranger." Thank you, sir. There was a camp of 
 volunteers for the British a few miles from our place. 
 Many of the officers and men belonged to our neighbor 
 hood, and we had always been on friendly terms till the 
 war broke out war puts the devil even between friends 
 But what of it ? all the same in a hundred years. 
 Who d a thought they d ever permitted a neighbor s 
 family to be treated so ?" 
 
 And again the distressed fellow was overpowered by 
 his emotions, making such a horrible noise with his 
 teeth, that Guilford and Walter, fearing he might drop 
 down at any moment with the lock-jaw, endeavored to 
 keep him in conversation. Yet there was only one sub 
 ject. In a moment he returned to it his family, and 
 threw out dark hints. 
 
 Walter. "The miscreants I how could they dare?" 
 Stranger." Oh ! don t you believe it, young sir. The 
 ruffian cowards even killed each other s sheep, robbed 
 all the hen-roosts, shot down the dogs, set fire to corn 
 fields caught women, brought them into camp, and 
 
 O God 1 O God !" 
 
 His deep groans of distress moved the brothers to the 
 bottom of their hearts. 
 
 GuilfoTd."Ijf& us carry your knapsack for you. 
 friend."
 
 336 BHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Stranger. "Thank you, you are good fellows, I know ; 
 I know my eyes are leaky. I can t help groaning, I 
 make a fool of myself but all the same in a hundred 
 years." 
 
 The brothers unbuckled the knapsack and carried 
 it along between them. 
 
 Stranger. " I had two brothers little younger than the 
 youngest of you. Not near so tall, but honest, hearty 
 lads. "Where they are God only knows. "What 
 became of my wife and sisters I know too well. The 
 ruffians over there " he pointed towards the Canada 
 shore " they know, and they must meet them, and me, 
 too, at the judgment bar of God. All the same in a 
 hundred years !" 
 
 Walter. " Pardon me, but I feel so much interested. 
 Did they kill the defenceless women ?" 
 
 Stranger. " Do you think that women of American 
 descent, would ever be debauched alive ?" 
 
 Cruilford and Walter. " Heavens ! Heavens !" 
 
 At the next moment the clatter of horses hoofs was 
 heard behind us. A small party of horsemen soon went 
 by rapidly. 
 
 Stranger. " That s our general !" 
 
 Guilford." Which one ?" 
 
 Stranger. "The last one. He always lags behind. 
 He s from York State, joined us in Ohio, was elected 
 when the band was small, as commander of the expedi 
 tion. "What of it ? He s no account." 
 
 G-uttfvrd." Not fit for it, eh ?" 
 
 Strangen\ "Is a bullfrog fit to drill crows?"
 
 THE BATTLE OF WINDSOR. 337 
 
 Guilford. (Glad to divert the late bitter train of 
 thought) " A bullfrog has qualities considered by many 
 as essential to the soldier. He can strut and swell, 
 grumble and croak, and go slowly enough for any old 
 
 fogy." 
 
 Stranger. (Laughing.) "That s just it! sure as my 
 name s Lot ! Our general can do all that to perfection. 
 What of it ? Meantime, the crows all fly away. Just 
 so. We marched up from Toledo, with five hundred 
 brave fellows. The ladies worked a beautiful silk 
 banner, worth I don t know how many hundred dollars, 
 and presented it to us. Five hundred men thanked 
 them for it. Now we have barely two hundred !" 
 
 Walter." Why, how is that?" 
 
 /Stranger. " Ask him riding on there ! Three nights 
 ago there were four hundred of us altogether in the 
 woods, ready to start. Two nights ago, three hundred. 
 But both nights the general had the stomach-ache, or 
 tooth-ache, or something, and said he wasn t ready nor 
 able. So you see they got disgusted ; some of em out of 
 money too, and had to go to work to earn their bread." 
 
 Walter. "But will he go to-night? will he cross 
 over ?" 
 
 Stranger. " He ll have to. They ve got hold of him, 
 I see, and they swore last night they d shoot him, if he 
 didn t go." 
 
 Guilford. " Can t you keep together and prevent 
 desertion?" 
 
 Stranger. " No, we can only meet nights now, since 
 
 15
 
 338 BHOKPAC KECOLLECTION8. 
 
 we reached a place where there are United States troops 
 we don t mind the militia, Frontier Guards and all 
 that. Some of them attend our lodges, then go dress 
 in uniform, and pace the streets all night, pretending to 
 be on the look out to catch us. "Well, we rendezvous at 
 some new spot in the woods each night, and scatter our 
 selves during the day. So if the men don t choose 
 there s nothing to make em come." 
 
 We had turned off from the main road, and, during 
 many minutes been ascending a lane, which led up to 
 Chene s Point. The camp fires were now visible among 
 the trees men were sitting or walking around them. 
 As we drew near the encampment, we met a couple of 
 ostlers, belonging to a livery-stable in the city, leading 
 away several horses. 
 
 " That looks something like," said Lot, " they re 
 sending back the horses." Our companion pricked up 
 at once. He was all elation. 
 
 " Yes," said he, taking his knapsack, " we may cross 
 over to-night. We shall attack Windsor, march straight 
 to Chatham, and from there move down upon London 
 and who knows but we may see Hamilton ? What of 
 it? Ha ! ha ! all the same in a hundred years !" 
 
 With a quickened pace we soon gained the woods, 
 and walked from fire to fire, and from group to group 
 Lot was greeted with those peculiar demonstrations of 
 sympathy which rough men pay spontaneously to 
 suffering. But our friend seemed to stand little in need 
 of sympathy he was in good spirits.
 
 THE BATTLE OF WINDSOR. 339 
 
 "We found a, determined-looking set of fellows gathered 
 here though few in numbers, nor, with the exception 
 perhaps of the Canadian portion, animated by that 
 devotion which true patriotism inspires. No one would 
 imagine from their looks that a man among them 
 could ever run. Their heavy beards and unwashed 
 faces, long hair, and dogged, sullen, even resolute eyes, 
 gave them a fierce brigandish air, or something more 
 desperate, which the glare of the fire did not serve to 
 diminish. 
 
 Invited by Lot, we sat down in the midst of a group 
 who were toasting pork and biscuits at a fire, on the 
 ends of their knives, bayonets, and swords, and discus 
 sing the characters of their leaders, the events of the 
 inarch through Ohio, and the prospect before them. 
 Guilford and myself shared their food ; and it was sad 
 enough to think, afterwards, that this was the last meal 
 on earth with some of the devoted band. 
 
 The general soon made his appearance, as he was 
 moving from group to group, with a word here and a 
 word there. The men seemed to bear him neither great 
 respect nor good-will frequently turning their backs 
 upon him. He was muffled up in a camlet, cloak, and a 
 white handkerchief around his ears and face. He 
 might have graced a civic procession but here he was 
 evidently out of place. 
 
 Next to him in rank, and the real leader of the expe 
 dition, was a tall Kentuckian, with a gruff voice, scarred 
 face, and commanding presence ; a tower of strength,
 
 340 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 capitally suited to desperate enterprises. I did not 
 hear his name, they only called him " the Colonel." 
 
 Only below the Colonel in favor among the patriots 
 was Major Putnam, an American Canadian, who had 
 abandoned a large property near Chatham, and fled to the 
 United States, misled by the tone of the popular press 
 into the belief that his former countrymen were ready to 
 march in a body for the deliverance of the provinces. 
 Active in forming the present expedition, his hope was 
 set high when it lately numbered five hundred a suffi 
 cient force, perhaps, to march through the Upper Provin 
 ces but even now, with the handful to which they had 
 become reduced, this true patriot was resolved to do so 
 or die." 
 
 I remember but one other conspicuous character 
 Dandy Jack what a name to die on ! Yet none there 
 nobler than Dandy Jack with his harlequinades, his 
 coat of many colored lists, and his flourishing horse- 
 pistol. He was the soul of jocularity, the life of the 
 camp, a genuine descendant of the true-hearted illustri 
 ous "Wamba the Witless. 
 
 At midnight the order went round for the adventurers 
 to form ranks in the lane by which Guilford, myself, 
 and the brave Lot had come. What provisions remained 
 were tossed into the fires. The men strapped on their 
 kits and knapsacks, took their arms a promiscuous 
 assortment upon their shoulders, and silently fell in. 
 It were vain to disguise that their spirits were gloomy. 
 But Lot, and Dandy Jack, and a few others, threw a
 
 THE BATTLE OF WINDSOR 341 
 
 cheering raj now and then along the ranks, and 
 the Colonel, and Major Putnam, whatever their real 
 feelings, disguised them sufficiently to present a con 
 fident manner to the men. 
 
 On reaching the main road, the column halted. A 
 murmur ran through the ranks. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" whispered Walter to Lot. 
 
 " The steamboat s not ready. 
 
 The delay was vexatious. It seemed as though they 
 were to be disappointed again in their wishes to cross, 
 and curses deep not loud, fell from time to time on the 
 head of General . Besides, they were now assem 
 bled in arms within dangerous proximity to the city. 
 
 " The Frontier Guards will be upon us," said one. 
 
 " Oh ! never fear that," replied another. "Two thirds 
 of them would join us, with half a chance of success." 
 
 "The only man I fear is old General BJadey with his 
 regulars," said another. " That old fellow s as true as 
 steel to the government, they say." 
 
 " To the devil with the government, old Matty and all ! 
 what s the use of their humbuggin ?" said a tall Hiber 
 nian, who evidently had little faith in the sincerity of 
 the President. 
 
 "Faix!" said Dandy Jack, imitating the celebrated 
 sweet brogue of his friend, " if I only had that old fox 
 Matty by the tail, be jabers !" 
 
 A low laugh was heard along the line at this freak ot 
 Dandy Jack s fancy, and again all was silent until the 
 figure of the Colonel was seen approaching from towards 
 the head of the column.
 
 342 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 " All right, men ! The Frontiers are not out to-night, 
 and the regulars are asleep in their barracks," said the 
 Colonel, in a low, husky voice, as he passed by us the 
 former portion of this intelligence was a mistake. 
 
 Soon afterwards another figure moved down the line. 
 It was Putnam. 
 
 " Men !" said he, " after we cross over, be careful 
 what vou drink. I have intelligence from Chatham that 
 
 > o 
 
 the brandy in the inns, and the water in the wells, are 
 to be poisoned along the whole road." Then pausing, he 
 took out his watch and was lost a moment in deep 
 abstraction. As he recovered I heard him say, " In 
 four hours we shall know our destiny." 
 
 This figure disappeared. 
 
 " I ll drink nothing but blood !" said the fierce Hiber 
 nian. 
 
 " And I ll drink nothing but whisky," echoed Dandy 
 Jack, again imitating the Irish ex-patriot. 
 
 Ere the laughter died away, the column resumed its 
 march down the road, and having gained a half-mile, 
 suddenly turned to the left. In a few minutes we 
 stood upon a wharf at the end of which lay a steamer 
 letting off steam an operation it seemed to perform 
 in a low tone, with the spirit of stealthy secrecy which 
 characterized all the movements of this midnight expe 
 dition. 
 
 The hardy adventurers were soon got on board, Guil- 
 ford and Walter shook hands with Lot and Dandy Jack 
 how much sadder we, than they ! 
 
 "You ll hear of me, boys," said Dandy Jack.
 
 THE BATTLE OF WINDSOK. 343 
 
 " We hope to hear of your success, old i ellow," said 
 Quilford. 
 
 "Yes," said Dandy Jack, "this horse-pistol and I 
 were born to distinguish ourselves. I mean to shoot 
 
 Colonel in person." lie spoke the name of the 
 
 magistrate, who bearing likewise a commission in the 
 Canada militia, \vielded both civil and military com 
 mand in the district about to be invaded. 
 
 Alas ! we remembered Dandy Jack s words ! 
 
 There were several long and provoking delays in get 
 ting the steamer off. I secretly indulged the hope that 
 something would prevent the further prosecution of this 
 ill-starred enterprise. Some one on board the vessel cut 
 the tiller-rope once, again, aifd again. Finally a guard 
 of trusty men was established along the rope from the 
 rudder to the wheel.. The hawser was lifted off the 
 posts on the wharf, the wheels of the steamer commen 
 ced revolving, a low cheer was heard from the few on 
 shore including some members of the Frontier Guards 
 answered by those on board, and the " Champlain " 
 moved out into the stream. 
 
 We watched the progress of the vessel. 
 
 It steamed up the river, finding it impossible, proba 
 bly, to cross at once through the ice, which was floating 
 down in large thick masses, from the lakes above. 
 
 Two hours we waited, watching anxiously. Then 
 thinking it would be morning before the Champlain 
 could land her precious cargo, Guilford and myself 
 returned to Lilac Cottage.
 
 344 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Arising from a troubled sleep at dawn, I looked out 
 upon the river. The Barracks on the Canadian side 
 were in flames nearly consumed. 
 
 " Three cheers ! Guilford, they have succeeded !" 
 
 We could distinguish small compact parties of men 
 under arms marching on the town of Windsor -a little 
 distance below the British Barracks. Over the heads 
 of one of the parties waved the patriot tri-color. For 
 awhile they are lost among the buildings of Windsor. 
 Now they are seen moving irregularly over a meadow, 
 and into an orchard in rear of the town. It is doubtless 
 
 their intention, either to await there Colonel 
 
 with the British, or to take the most direct route to 
 Chatham through the woods. 
 
 A small, but well-ordered body, is now seen approach 
 ing Windsor, from below. It is the British force from 
 Sandwich. Now they are hid by the town. Now they 
 are seen approaching the orchard. Smoke rises above 
 the tops of the apple trees. A volley of musketry is 
 faintly heard another the smoke thickens there is a 
 promiscuous roar of sounds, swelling and sinking at inter 
 vals small puffs of smoke are twining up as if writhing 
 in agony, here and there from the orchard sounds 
 die away the air is no longer polluted and the battle 
 of Windsor is fought and won. 
 
 Meantime there was a vehement excitement among 
 the people of our little city. Thousands flocked to the 
 wharves ; some, the better to behold the conflict, others 
 with arms in their hands, with the view of crossing the
 
 THE BATTLE OF WINDSOR. 345 
 
 river to the assistance of the patriots, with whom every 
 body sympathized vociferously. The tops of the 
 houses were covered with spectators. They swarm upon 
 the rigging of the vessels at the docks. They fill the 
 streets leading to the river-side. United States troops 
 of the regular service are marching hurriedly from 
 street to street and from wharf to wharf; to prevent our 
 citizens from invading the dominions of a nation with 
 whom we are at peace. The Frontier Guard are out 
 in full feather, with their splendid grey uniforms and 
 fine music, all zeal to close the stable-door after the 
 steed has flown. The multitude cheer them as they 
 pass, but groan and hiss at the regulars. Discrimina 
 ting multitude ! The Frontiers are drawing pay from 
 government on voluntary services the regulars are 
 marched to the spot nolens volens. That plucky little 
 band of Frenchmen, the Shoepacs, are not out on. this 
 occasion. They refuse the pay of the government, and 
 resolutely stay at home. 
 
 There is not so much ice now running in the water, 
 and a swift little steamer, with a detachment of regulars, 
 and a piece of artillery on board, is plying up and 
 down, preventing boats from crossing to Windsor. The 
 detachment on this steamer have the most odious duty 
 to perform, and are hooted loudly by the mob on shore. 
 
 On that long wharf stands old General Bladey, with 
 his thin white hair floating in the morning 1 breeze. 
 
 o o 
 
 Everything to preserve the neutrality is done under his 
 direction. The general watched the battle, as it was 
 
 15*
 
 346 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 fought, with a kindled eye. No doubt his sympathies 
 as a man even as a soldier were against the British, 
 for he had fought them himself, was a hero of Lundy s 
 Lane ; yet his duty ah, that is a different thing. That 
 little word " duty," was the general s polar star through 
 life doubtless it guided him safely into heaven. 
 
 o / 
 
 A murmur of displeasure began to make itself heard 
 behind and around the old general. Voices were heard 
 calling him 
 
 O 
 
 " Tory ! Tory ! Tory !" 
 
 The general turned and faced the tumult. He was 
 alone, a slender man of three score years and ter, and 
 carried no arms but a small rapier. His eyes grew 
 young again beneath those flashes of fearless indignation. 
 
 "Pitch him into the river!" was the next cry. 
 
 " In with him ! in with him !" was heard on every 
 side. 
 
 In a moment the general had drawn his rapier, and 
 cutting his way right and left through the crowded 
 mass, he left the wharf before the ringleaders of the mob 
 recovered from their surprise. 
 
 After all, I think there were enough left of the ancien 
 regime to have protected the general had violent hands 
 been laid upon him ; for he had dwelt among us a 
 quarter of a century, and was loved as only a pure, 
 honest, simple-hearted old soldier can be loved. And 
 no sooner, even on this occasion, had the general sepa 
 rated himself from the multitude, than the sky was rent 
 with
 
 THE BATTLE OF WINDSOR. 347 
 
 " Three cheers for General Bladey !" 
 
 It was soon noised about the city that the patriots 
 were defeated by Colonel . This unwelcome intelli 
 gence was soon confirmed. Small boats French 
 canoes and others were seen putting off from the 
 Canadian shore, above Windsor. Orders were given 
 for the steamer which carried the brass field-piece to 
 proceed np the river and arrest the fugitives as they 
 were crossing. Cruel order it seemed ! The boats were 
 hailed, some fired at, one hit, when the steamer returned ; 
 the captives on board were few, but among them was 
 one poor groaning fellow, who had been struck by a six- 
 pounder ball on the thigh. He was carefully brought 
 ashore on a litter a blanket stretched over two hand 
 spikes and his gory leg was visibly dangling by a 
 shred of the skin. The troops marched over the wharf. 
 The field-piece rattled over the stones. The drum and 
 fife of the detachment struck up a lively air; and the 
 regulars inarched out of sight. Yet many a brave 
 heart was bleeding beneath those blue coats duty! 
 what an easy thing, but for heart-bleeding. 
 
 It was not until several days afterwards that reliable 
 particulars of the battle could be gathered from the 
 conflicting rumors. Chance at length brought me into 
 the acquaintance of one, since become a warm friend, 
 who participated in the affair. He was a youth little 
 older than myself, who, carried away by an ardent love 
 of liberty, left Jiis home to share the honors and dangers 
 of freedom s cause.
 
 34:8 8HOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 The " Champlain" landed the patriots just before the 
 break of day. They marched at once upon the Bar 
 racks. The few British troops quartered there suc 
 ceeded, with the exception of one soldier, in making 
 their escape to Sandwich. The building was fired, and 
 the patriots or rebels, as we must now call them, since 
 the revolution failed proceeded at once to Windsor, 
 which they captured without a blow. 
 
 Instead of pursuing the loyalists to Sandwich, or, 
 according to the original plan, marching at once for 
 Chatham, and rousing the Canadians, who it was thought 
 were only waiting for the appearance of an armed party 
 to rise and rally around the standard of revolt, the 
 patriots lost time in the taverns of "Windsor, and were 
 hastily collected in the orchard on the approach of 
 
 Colonel , at the head of a small body of British 
 
 citizens and soldiers. The general himself, instead of 
 befng at the head of his men, was in Windsor when the 
 encounter took place. Hearing shots in the orchard, this 
 impetuous warrior sent his aide-de-camp up a lane in the 
 direction of the firing to reconnoitre discreet leader ! 
 
 " General !" cried the aid, " they are fighting in the 
 orchard. 
 
 Did the chieftain seize a steed, and dash, with bloody 
 rowels, to the field ? Did he cry, a horse ! a horse ! my 
 kingdom for a horse ? Did he proceed at once on foot 
 to the critical point ? 
 
 " General !" exclaimed the aid, with tears, " the men 
 are retreating up the woods !"
 
 THE BATTLE OF WINDSOR. 349 
 
 "Then we will retreat up the river!" responded the 
 soul of chivalry. 
 
 Field and staff ; i. c., the general, his aid, and a single 
 staff officer, went hurrying along the river road. 
 
 " We ll move up a little way, then strike out towards 
 the woods, and join our forces," said the breathless 
 hero of many toothaches. "The safety of the com 
 mand, the success of the expedition, depends upon our 
 safety." 
 
 A little way above Windsor the general s quick eye 
 caught sight of a canoe drawn up on the shore of the 
 river. The general looked wistfully at the boat. 
 
 " What do you say," inquired the aid, a cool young gen 
 tleman, " to conducting this retreat by water, general ?" 
 
 " Certainly ! certainly !" cried the accommodating 
 leader, glancing towards the American shore opposite. 
 " Gentlemen, please step into that Frenchman s house, 
 and ask him for his canoe. I m sure these people can 
 refuse nothing to those who peril their lives for them." 
 
 The aid and the staff officer did as they were ordered. 
 But Antoine, the owner, did not easily understand 
 English. Besides, Antoine had shut himself up in his 
 castle, till the heat of the battle should be over sucli 
 was the sort of assistance the patriots had relied upon 
 Antoine did not feel secure that the tide of war hid 
 swept by, and was not inclined to leave his castle to 
 have the object of the two gentlemen s wishes poin.^d 
 out. Finally, however, he emerged with his indefatig 
 able persecutors.
 
 350 S H O E P A C K E O L L, E C T I O N S . 
 
 What was the astonishment of the two at beholding 
 the general, now well out in the river, paddling Antoine a 
 canoe towards the American side. 
 
 " Holloa ! holloa ! ma friend ! what you do wiz ma 
 canoe, eh ?" 
 
 Like an old war veteran, the general appeared deaf. 
 
 " I ll make him hear," said the staff officer, quietly 
 cocking a rifle he carried. He brought the gun to his 
 shoulder and shouted, 
 
 " General, come back and take us in, or you are a dead 
 man !" 
 
 " He has already taken us in, " remarked the cool 
 aid. 
 
 The general recognized military language. He turned, 
 and beheld the gun levelled towards him. 
 
 " Oh ! don t fire, I ll come back." 
 
 " I I was only trying to see whether I could 
 paddle," said the general, as he returned to the shore. 
 
 The two young men seemed in no haste to embark. 
 
 " Quick ! quick !" quoth the general. " That 
 steamer 11 have us. That steamer 11 have us !" 
 
 "Why, general!" asked the cool aid, "don t you 
 intend to pay the Frenchman for his canoe ?" 
 
 " ISTo ! I haven t got any ; haste, dear fellows, let s 
 
 be off," the general fairly shrieked. 
 
 " Haven t got any money, I dare say," laughed the 
 cool aid, " that s the thing you came to find in Canada." 
 
 Then taking off his coat and handing it to Antoine, 
 the young man said :
 
 THE BATTLE OF WINDSOR. 351 
 
 " Here, Jonny Crapeau, I ve no money either, but 
 take this. Remember all patriots are not thieves." 
 
 The staff officer made a like disposition of his rifle. 
 
 " No more need of old Bill now take him," said the 
 staff officer, " Patriotism don t pay !" 
 
 The Frenchman, holding coat in one hand and rifle 
 in the other, looked at them alternately, as if weighing 
 their value in one scale of balance, and his feelings in 
 the other. Feelings kicked the beam. 
 
 " Messieurs, Antoine Bellarmy no fight, but take ze 
 coat, ze rifle, of ze patriots? No! sacre ! by dam! 
 Antoine is no leetle dog for dat!" 
 
 He then threw the articles in the boat, and stood with 
 his hat off on the shore. 
 
 " Now general, pull away!" quoth the cool aid. 
 
 " For God s sake !" cried that hero, piteously. " don t 
 you intend to take an oar neither of you ?" 
 
 "No! you old coward! you have had the benefit of 
 private practice ; pull away !" 
 
 By the general s labor, they soon gained the middle of 
 the stream, which here was about a mile in width. 
 
 A shot from the steamer came skipping over the 
 water, right ahead of their bows. 
 
 The general dropt his paddle in terror, the young men 
 took up theirs, and the boat began to fly through the 
 water towards an island, whose woody cover might 
 afford a hiding-place. But another shot whizzed over 
 their heads, and struck immediately beyond them. 
 
 " No use !" said the cool aid to the staff officer, lay-
 
 352 8 H E P A C RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 ing down his paddle. " Let them take us. I m willing 
 to be tried for the sake of seeing the general catch it." 
 
 " Yery well," returned the staff officer. 
 
 They cast their fire-arms in the river, and lay by 
 quietly until the steamer came nigh. 
 
 " Pull up to us !" ordered an officer. 
 
 " Pull away, general !" said the cool aid, and the 
 leader of the army of invasion made his appearance 
 before the people of the steamer, tugging at a paddle, 
 while his two staff officers sat with their arms coolly 
 folded, in the canoe. 
 
 It only remains for me to tell the fate of the Colonel, 
 Major Putnam, Lot, and Dandy Jack. The two former 
 were engaged with the enemy in the orchard it was 
 they who formed the patriots for battle. A volley or 
 two was fired on each side, when the patriots began to 
 break. " One more round, men !" exclaimed the 
 Colonel, " and the day is ours." lie rallied a few, who 
 turned, delivered their fire, and took to their heels. 
 His hoarse voice resounded over the field, as he flew 
 from man to man, collaring one, and striking another 
 with his sword. In vain. True it is that one more 
 volley from the whole line would have sent the loyal 
 ists flying but the rebels flew first. The Colonel rushed 
 with his pistol and sword upon the advancing line of 
 the enemy, and was shot dead. 
 
 Putnam, Lot, and a few other Canadians, who com 
 posed a little body of their own, stood coolly loading 
 and firing till the line broke, when the major formed his
 
 THE BATTLE OF WINDSOR. 353 
 
 handful of men into a rear-guard, and falling back 
 slowly, endeavored to cover the retreat. Climbing a 
 fence at the same moment with the color-bearer, a ball 
 struck Putnam. He caught the banner in his hands as 
 he fell, and was found rolled up in a glorious winding- 
 sheet. 
 
 Lot, who doggedly refused to run, was overtaken, 
 stunned by a blow of a musket, and captured. 
 
 An hour afterwards, he was placed against the fence, 
 and shot without trial. Before the platoon fired, he 
 fixed his eyes on Colonel , and said : 
 
 " I summon you to meet me with the murderers of 
 my father, wife, and sisters, at the bar of God. Ha ! 
 twill be all the same in a hundred years !" 
 
 Our merry friend, the descendant of Wamba the 
 "Witless, went into the tavern at Windsor, after his 
 boasted beverage, and came out half seas over at the 
 moment when the British were passing on their way to 
 the orchard. Mistaking them for patriots he fell in 
 with them. A moment afterwards he discovered his 
 mistake. Colonel , with one or two other gentle 
 men, was immediately before him. He raised the horse- 
 pistol " born to distinction," and tired. Struck by an 
 \mseen musket, it discharged its contents in the air. 
 The next moment Dandy Jack lay pinned to the green 
 sod by a dozen bayonets. 
 
 Alas ! poor Dandy Jack!
 
 351 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 THE SHOEPAC S. 
 
 All, all are fled, yet still I linger here 1 
 
 What secret charms this silent spot endear? ROOERS. 
 
 IN the sweet month of June, I lately visited my 
 native city. Finding few of the ancient landmarks 
 remaining in the town itself, I strolled out one afternoon 
 and walked beside the river. The old river-road even 
 
 * 
 
 had been swept away. Its place was, to my mind, but 
 poorly supplied by a broad avenue, many roods above. 
 I was therefore obliged to cross the orchards and the 
 meadows, climb the fences, and almost invade the court 
 yards of houses left standing near the banks of the 
 stream, in order to pursue my way along its beloved 
 course. 
 
 At length, fatigued with walking and climbing, and 
 half sad to find so little left to recognize, I lay down 
 in the shade of a dilapidated house once the happy 
 home of a French school-fellow. The bees were hum 
 ming around me, yet I felt no inclination to brush them 
 away, lest pain should be inflicted upon the descendant 
 of some insect, contemporary with my childhood. The 
 orchard near by was in full bloom. The bobolinks
 
 THK SHOEPACS. 355 
 
 poised themselves high above the trees, and, on quiver 
 ing wing, poured forth their showers of melting sweet 
 ness all around. A cricket chirped beneath a stone at 
 my feet, while a ground sparrow sprang to the roof 
 above, charming the senses with his homely, familiar 
 sonnets. Lulled by the ripple of the river, soothed by 
 the delicious calmness of the atmosphere, and charmed 
 by the music of the birds and the insect tribes, I dropped 
 away into the soft arms of sleep : still imagining myself 
 conscious of the hour, the scene, the sweetness of undis 
 turbed repose. 
 
 To my infinite surprise, the building soon began to fill 
 with little quaint figures, in old-time garments, with all 
 the vivacity of life in their looks and their movements. 
 They appeared to treat my presence among them in no 
 unfriendly way. Some merely threw an indifferent 
 glance towards me. Others gazed with more attention, 
 till their curiosity seemed satisfied. Others again, drew 
 nigh, and peered into my face. One said, " He is one of 
 us." Another said, " Oui ! oui ! he look like his fader." 
 To my satisfaction I soon found that I recognized many 
 of their faces. Although some had changed into little 
 sun-dried fellows, others were almost mummy-like in their 
 antiquity, a few were fresh and fair as ever. I found 
 myself again a boy, and among the simple people of 
 early times. They were mostly French, with here and 
 there an American. 
 
 By degrees they formed themselves into groups. 
 Some sat down at games of cards, others drank cider,
 
 SHOEPAC EECOL L ECT I O N S . 
 
 which they drew from a barrel standing in the corner, 
 unnoticed by me till now ; others had hickory nuts to 
 crack. Some ate onions and cold fritters, others picked 
 wild ducks, apparently just killed, or made the silver 
 scales fly from the backs of white-fish; all chatting 
 pleasantly, like so many lively monkeys. 
 
 Suddenly the scene was changed by the entrance of a 
 brisk little fellow, wearing a sword at his side, and a 
 cockade in his hat, which, moreover, was adorned by a 
 plume almost a cubit long, composed of red feathers. 
 His costume was not otherwise peculiar, except about 
 the feet. Here he wore a sort of half shoe, half mocca 
 sin, termed, in ancient phrase, a shoepac. I was familiar 
 with it, had seen many in my childhood, had worn them 
 myself, but now even their venerable name is extinct. 
 
 The new-comer strode directly to the end of the 
 building where I was lying, with eyes wide open in 
 pleasant wonderment, and standing not many paces 
 from me, with his face towards the assembly, he called 
 out 
 
 "Attention, Shoepacs !" 
 
 The white- fish, ducks, onions, cards, cider and fritters, 
 disappeared. Every little man jumped to his feet. On 
 all their heads gay plumes were nodding, with here and 
 there a sorry little cock feather. They were diversely 
 armed. One bore a long flint-lock fowling-piece, 
 another an old-fashioned pistol, here a pitchfork, there an 
 umbrella, a few sported broken spears, dangled long, rusty 
 cavalry sabres, and wore helmets with horse hair and
 
 THE SHOEPACS. 357 
 
 scales of brass. All had on their feet shoepacs similar 
 to those described. 
 
 But ere I could observe anything further, the little 
 speaker cried out, 
 
 " All dose gentlemans present will say here !" 
 
 " Here ! here !" shouted a score of voices. 
 
 "Sacre! by dam! Wait till I call the roll, eh? 
 All dose gentlemans present, when de name is call, will 
 say here ; all dose absent will step up and pay the 
 fine !" 
 
 The last specimen of what I thought an Irish bull, 
 seemed not at all to affect the risibilities of the warlike 
 host. 
 
 The brisk gentleman now commenced calling over 
 his roll. 
 
 " Laon Chene !" A little old man, with thin white 
 hair, stepped forward, and brought his weapon, a duck 
 gun, to an order. 
 
 " Henri Gadbois !" Henri advanced, and took posi 
 tion on the left flank of little Monsieur Chene. Henri 
 was a tough, smeared-face looking lad, armed with a 
 beautiful barn-yard cock, held by a string, and which 
 flew upon Henri s head, flapped his red and golden 
 wings, and gave a loud defiant crow. 
 
 "Pierre Gadbois!" No reply. "Pierre Gadbois!" 
 
 At the second call a figure seemed to rise from the 
 ground, walk slowly to the summoner, and deposit in 
 his hand an antique coin. It then vanished. 
 
 " Francis Laflambois ! Antoine Lafleur ! Medore
 
 358 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS. 
 
 Melanger ! Dominic Riossele !" These gentlemen, and 
 many others, variously accoutered, stepped forth as their 
 names were called, till a well-ordered array of Shoepacs 
 stood before me in rank and file. The orderly sergeant 
 took his proper post. The captain now appeared. He 
 was a heavily-whiskered, yet tiny man, mounted on a 
 mettled little pony. In an instant the grotesque multi 
 tude were marching oddly out of time and order, the 
 be-helmeted warriors frisking on horseback, and clatter 
 ing their sabres, one moment wheeling and the next 
 moment charging, and anon running races among the 
 trees in the orchard, while the footmen were striving to 
 catch the step, starting and halting under the shrieks of 
 their orderly sergeant, then dividing, some marching 
 one way, some another, then running hastily together, 
 and finally breaking into a confused melange. 
 
 I lay upon my back in silence awhile. But irreverent 
 laughter soon seized me, and I laughed and shouted and 
 rolled on the grass, utterly unable to repress the out 
 bursts of mirth, at the queer little antics cutting around 
 me. In a short time, however, the good gentlemen 
 defiled into the building again ; and stood regarding me, 
 all with sad visages. I never witnessed so mournful a 
 sight, such hopeless, woe-begoiie countenances, such 
 despairing, sorrowful expressions. Why they looked at 
 me with fixed eyes, I could not perceive. I arose from 
 the ground and mingled among them, desiring them, 
 here and there, as I knew one and another, to express to 
 me what it was that sat heavily upon them, and what,
 
 THE S H E P A S . 
 
 if any tliiBir, might bo done to render them once more 
 
 i/ O O 
 
 the careless, jovial, happy crew I had just seen, and long 
 ago had known them to be. The} r pointed to the decay 
 ing roof of the habitation ; they gazed with steadfast 
 eyes on the river, as if they sought their canoes ; they 
 turned towards the city below, humming with the busi 
 ness arid pastimes of a race that was gradually crowd 
 ing them from their homes and happy employments ; 
 they gave the same sad, wistful look as at the first ; then 
 vanishing, not like the pageantries of other dreams, in 
 the twinkling of an eye, but slowly, one by one, with 
 the same sad, wistful look, till all are gone. 
 
 I awoke ! 
 
 Many times afterwards, revisiting the spot, and lulled 
 by the same delicious sounds as before, I slept in the 
 shade of the old ruin ; hoping to renew the dream ; 
 hoping to gain the secret of wishes so gravely and sor 
 rowfully expressed, yet so little understood. I began to 
 muse over the times, faintly remembered at first, when 
 the simple French people -held undisputed and gentle 
 sway along this whole frontier. Standing between the 
 red-man and white-man, mingling with both, disturbing 
 neither, with little to defend, and no desire to aggrandize, 
 their ephemeral existence was as glowing with the plea 
 sure of light-hearted enjoyment, as the insects that 
 sport away their hour of sunshine, and like them pass 
 ing away unnoticed or soon forgotten. 
 
 Fain would we light up the darkness of that oblivion 
 to which they are fast being consigned. But coming
 
 360 SHOEPAC RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 lato in their day, and seeing them through the medium 
 of childhood, we have not ventured, in these sketches, to 
 attempt more than to throw an occasional flickering raj 
 upon the manners and customs of the simple race. 
 "With some of the peculiarities of those who have sup 
 planted them, especially the earlier folk, who caught 
 not a little of their genial light and warmth, our 
 memory is more at home. It may be a pleasure for 
 some, whose pulse is beating high beneath the torrid 
 zone of the present, to have gazed for one short hour 
 upon the cool region of a temperate past yesterday but 
 still a part of to-day. 
 
 THE END.
 
 * = 
 o 
 
 
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