The voice of freedom. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1839-1848, 1844-08-29

with emotions that ~"freeze their young
Blood, He is too high, too faint, 10 ask
for his father and mother, his brothers
and sisters 10 come and witness or avert
his destruction. But one of his compan-
ions anticipates his desire. Swift as the
wind, he bounds down the channel, and
the situation of the fated boy is told on
his fathers hearth.stone.
Minutes o almost eternal length roll on
and there are hundreds standing in that
rocky channel, and hundreds on the
bridge above, all holding their breath, and
awaiting the fearful catastrophe. The
poor boy hears The hum of new and nu-
merous voices both above and below
He can just Distinguish The tones Of his
father who is shouting with all the energy
of despair, "WiLiGm William Don't
look d0mn! Your mother, and Henry,
aud Harriet are ali here, praying for you!
Don't look down! Keep your eye tOwards
The topr His eye is fixed Ikea flint
towards Heaven, and his young heart on
him who reigns there. He grasps again
his knife. He cuts another niche, and an
other foot is added TO the hundreds that
remove him from the reach Of human
help from below. How carefully he uses
his wasting blade How anxiously he
selects the soflest places in that vast pier |
How he avoids every fjnty grain How
he economises his physical powers! -
resting a moment at each gain he cuts.-
How every motion is watched from be-
lowI There stands his father, mother
brother and sister. on the very spot where,
if he falls, he will not fall alone.
The sun is now half way down The
west. The lad has made fifty additional
inches in that mighty wall, and now finds
himself directly under the middle of that
vast arch of o earth, and trees. He
must cat his way in a new direction, 10
get from under this overhanging moHa-
tain. The inspiration Of hope is dying
in his bosom its vital heat is fed by the
increasing shouts of hundreds perched
upon cliffs and trees, and others who
stand with ropes in their hands on the
bridge above, or with ladders below
Fifty gains more must be cut before the
longest rope can reach him. Ills vast
ing blade strikes again into the limestone.
The boy is emerging painfully, foot by
foot, from under that lofty arch. SpIiced
ropes are ready in the hands ofthose who
are leaning over the outer edge of the
bridge, Two minutes more and all will
be over. That blade is worn to The last
half inch. The boys head reels his
eyes are starting from their sockets
His last hope is dying in his heart ; his
life must hang upon the gain he cuts.--
That niche is his last--At the last faint
cash he makes, his knife-his faithful
knife-falls from his little neryeIess hand, (
and falls at his mothers feet. An invol.
untary groan ofdespair runs like a DEATH
knell through the channel below, and all
is still as the grave. At the height oil
nearly three hundred feet, the devoted boy
lifts his hopeless heart and closing eyes
10 commend his soul to God. IT'S bul
a moment--there !-one foot swings off!
he is OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES o.
yer 10 eternity! Hark i a shout falls
on his ear from above! The man who
is lying over the bridge, has caught a
glimpse OF the boys head and shoulders.
Quick as thought the noosed rope was
within reach of the sinking youth. No
one Breaches. With a faint. convuIsive
effort, the swooning boy drops his arms
into the moose. Darkness comes over
him, and with the words God and M0h-
en-! whispered on his lips jus! loud e.
nough to be heard in he~aven-lhe TIGHT
eniag rope lifts him out of his last shall.
low niche. Not a lip moves while he is
dangling over that fearful abyss; but
when a sturdy Virginian reaches down
and draws up The lad, and holds him up
in his AIMS before the fearful, GREATNESS
multitude, such shouting-such Ieaping
and weeping for joy-never greeted the
ear ola human being so recovered from
the yawnihg gulf of eternity E. b.
The HUTCHINsoNs. The Old North
was jammed foil on Wednesday evening,
at the Hutchinson concert. We were
to see this evidence of the apprc-
citation of true music by our community.
The singing we shall not attempt to de-.
scribe. The common words of praise are
inappIicable. 1t is the hio hest
praise to say it was intensely enjoyed -
and it seems to US that the true secret Of
pleasure was the apparent naturalness I
and entire absence of art. The attention {
OF The listener was not perplexed by affect [
and complicated beauties of execution
the MUSIC was simply the natural and l
expression of the thought, and the ?
.deas and sweet harmonies were received I
and enjoyed as one. The tribe of Jesse ,
have gone to the mountains, accompanied c
BY some of their anti-sIavery friends.-
They will sercnade the odd Man. prob f
lbly, and he will tell US about it ia the I
Granite Freeman. g