Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1844-02-02
THE QUAKER AND THE
-go'aasH q III w AlY M A N. Xxx

/, naoi'ou littIe mousse IN LONDON, Deautlneu
ythe presence ofhis daughter Mary. She,
scarcely seventeen, beautiful blonde with
blue eyes and possessing as much wisdom
as beatty, was sought after by all the young
men among her fathers acquaintance -
Those of the neighborhood tried in vain to
win smile. Mary was not a coquette, and
SO far from turning to account the effect
produced by her charms, she felt so much
annoyed by it, that she could hardly treat
with ciyilty her many admirers-one only
j excepted Edward Weresiord, a young artist,
who was intimate with the family.
A simple occurrence was the cause Of this
intimacy. Premature death had taken
away the wife of the Quaker, still in her
youth and beauty, and he, wishing to per-
petuate the memory of one so dear TO him,
called painter to her death-bed Ii was
there that Edward first met the afflicted
daughter--there between the tears Of one,
and the sacred employment of the other,
grew up a serious attachment The year
passed since that event, had only served to
strengthen the bond formed under such cir
cumstances, and the young man had already
ventured TO declare his hopes and desil es.
| Toby had noreasons for opposing the in
clinations of the young people Without
being rich, Edward earned by means of his
brush and palette, enough TO honorably
maintain a family His father, Mr.. Weres-
ford, an old city merchant had retired with
an immense fortune; rare example of re.
peated successes in speculation, so rapid
even, that very few persons had been able
to follow their progress. MIR. Weresford
being of quick, stern disposition, lived
alone in the West of London. without
troubling himself about his son, and leaving
him to shift for himself He was one of
those oblging egotists, who troubled no one,
III order not 10 be themselves troubled--one
of the most perfectly complaisant, provided
nothing is asked Of them Edward then.
had nothing to hinder his courtshp of the
fair Quakeress, knowing well that her faith
er would not oppose her marriage. The
situation Of the lovers was most prosperous,
and honest Toby waited for nothing to fix
the wedding day, save the back rents due
from his farms, intending TO set apart that
income to defray the expenses Of the occa-
sion, With this view, he left for his coun-
try seat, a few miles from London, in order
to arrange his affairs. He was absent from
home but single day, and returning at
night on horseback, he perceived little in
advance, horseman who blocked up the
road. He stopped for a moment, uncertain
whether 10 proceed or turn back While in
this predicament, the stranger advanced to.
wards him. ltwas too late to think of es-
Gaping, and putting the best possible face
upon the affair, he started his horse again
As he approached the troublesome stranger,
H., 1, - u
pleasant augury Of what was soon confirm
ed. The Quaker was not coward, but
calm in character, unoflensive in religion,
and unable unarmed TO resist an armed
man. he drew from his pocket with the
greatest GOODNESS his purse, containing
twelve guineas. The highwayman took il, I
counted out the money, and let the Quaker
pass, who believing himself cleared, quick
ened his pace to trot. But the highway
man, seeing how little resistance had been
offered and hoping for more booty, soon re-
Joined honest Toby, and again blocked up
the way and pointing his pistol, cried out
your watch ~. 49,.
| 81 The Quaker, although surprised, did not
show IT in the least, and coolly taking out
his watch, ard noticing the time, placed
the jewel in'the hand Of the thief, saying
NowI pray you let me go home for my
daughter will feel uneasy at my absence. ,l.
-d'One moment, replied the masked cavalier,
growing more hardened by his continued
dociIity, swear that you have no other sum.
/ never swear, replied the Quaker. sele i
Well, affirm then, that you have about
you no more money, and upon the word of
a highwayman who will not resort to violence
towards man who Yields with so much
grace, l will not further modest YOU p g
Toby reflected moment, and shook his
head g n~a pH fd fad sai2arl
Whoever thou art, said he gravely, yon
have noticed that am Quaker, who would
not conceal the truth, at the risk of my life.
In my saddle-bags ! have the sum Of two
hundred pounds sterling. ma 9'oo eae
Two hundred pounds sterling, cried the
highwayman, whose eyes glistened through
his mask. h
If you are good, if you are human, re-
piled the Quaker, you will not take away
this money; my daughter is about being
married, and this sum is. necessary for five
occasion, it would be a long time before
could get together a similar one tue dear
child loves her intended, and il would be ex-
ceedingly cruel to deny their unionas You
have heart. perhaps you have loved, you
would not, cannot do SO wicked an action.
VI What hasyour daughter, her lover, or
their marriage to do with me fewer words
and more promptness give me the money.
Toby, signing, raised the saddle bags,
took out a heavy sack and handed it slowly
to the masked man. Then attempted TO
galop of. 3ap ,oi u a83slsajsss..i
Hold on, my Quaker friend, said the 9TH
er, Selling the bride. The moment Of your
arrival you will denounce me to the magis-