The native American., 1838-03-17
From the London Quarterly Repie,O for October.
PICKLING-A CORPSE.
by MRS. BRAY.


Notwithstanding the general mildness OF the
climate some remarkable instances oi It's occa-
sioral severity are related in these volumes
Some favorite swans who were Ill possession Oh
niece of water which had formed part OF the
stew ponds of Tavistock Abbey, were killed there,
bv sudden frost Their owner was once snow
bound for three weeks at comortless little inn,
then the only one, at Moretom Hampstead; more
fortunate, however, in his quarters than travel
Ter who, in attempting to cross the same tract of
country at the breaking up of long frost, was
oyertaken by great snow storm night was
drawing on, reached solitary cottage the
moor, and asked to be taken in for the night.
He found there an old woman and her son. a
sturdy peasant, who smoking his pipe over
a great fire. There were but two beds in the
cottage, and the son offered to give up his own
and sleep himself on the settle in the chimney
corner.
The good dame busted herself in preparing
such food as the house could afford for the sran-
gers supper; and at length he retired to rest
Neither the room nor the bedding were such as
promised much comfort to person accustomed
to the luxures of polished life; but as most things
derive their value from comparison, even so did
these mean lodgings, for they appeared to him to
be possessed of all that the heart could desire,
when he reflected how narrowly he had escaped
being perhaps frozen to death that night on the
bleak moor. Before going to rest he had observed
in the chamber large oak-chest; it was some
what curious in form and ornament, and had the
appearance of being of very great antiquity. He
noticed or made some remarks upon it to the old
woman who had lighted him up stairs in order
to see that all things in his chamber might be as
comfortable circumstances would admit for his
repose. There was something, he thought, shy
and odd about the manner of the woman when he
observed the chest; and, after she was gone, he
had half mind to take peep into it. Had he
been daughter instead of a son of Eve, he would
most likely have done so; but, as it was he fore
bore, and went to bed as fast as he could He
felt cold and miserable, and who that does so can
ever hope for a sound or refreshing sleep, His
neither the one nor the other, for the woman
and her chest haunted him in his dreams; and a
hollow sound, if behind his beds head, sud
denly started him out Of his first sleep, when a
circumstance occurred which, like the ominous
voice to Macbeth, forbade him to sleep more. AS
he started up in bed, the first thing he saw was
the old chest that had troubled him in his dreams
There it lay in the slvery silence of the moon
light, looking cold and white, and connected
with his dream, provoking and even alarming
object of his curiosity. And then he thought q
the hollow sound which seemed to call him from
his repose, and the old woman's odd manner wher
he had talked to her about the chest, and the re-
serve Of her sturdy son, and, in Short the travel
ler's own imaginatio supplied thousand sub
jects of terror; indeed active did it now be-
come in these moments of alarm, that it gave a
tongue to the very silence Of the night, and action
even to the most inanimate things; for he looked
and looked again, till he actually fancied the lid
of the chest began to move slowly up before his
eyes!
He could endure no more; but, starting from
his bed, he rushed forward grasped the lid with
trembling hands, and raised it up at once. Who
shall speak his feelings when he beheld what that
fatal chest now disclosed?-a human corpse, stiff
and cold, lay before his sight! So much was he
overcome with the horror Of his feelings, that it
was with extreme difficulty he could once more
reach the bed. How he passed the rest of the
night he scarcely remembered; but one thought
but one fear, possessed and agonized his whole
SOUL He was in the house Of murderers! he
was devoted victim! there was no escape; for
where, even if he left the chamber at such an
hour, in such night, where should he find shelf
er, on the vast, frozen, and desolate moor! He
had no arms, he had no means of flight; for if
plunder and murder might be designed, he would
not be suffered to pass out, when the young man
(now, in his apprehension common traficer in
the blood of the helpless) slept in the only room,
below, and through which he must pass if he
stirred from where he was. To dwell on the
thoughts and feelings of the traveller during that
night Of terror would be an endless task; rather
let me hasten to say, that it was with the utmost
thankfulness, and not without some surprise.
that he found himself alive and undisturbed by
any midnight assassin, when the sun once more
arose and threw the cheerful light of day over the
monotonous desolation of the moor Under any
circumstances, and even in the midst of desert,
there is pleasure and animation in the morning;
like hope in the young heart, it renders all things
beautiful. If such are its effects under ordinary
circumstances, what must it have been to our
traveller, who hailed the renewed day as an assu-
rance of renewed safety to his own life! He de-
termined, however, to hasten away; to pay libe-
rally, but to avoid doing or saying any thing 10
awaken suspicion.
On descending to the kitchen he found the
old woman and her son busily employed in pre-
pairing no other fate for him than that of a good
breakfast; and the son, who the night before was
probably tired out with labor, had now lost what
the gentleman fancied to have been a verv surlv
humor. He gave his guest country salntation
and hoping "hs honor had found good rest nro,
ceeded to recommend the breakfast in the trne
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