Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1845-07-11

mingled as it was with the oaths and curses of
the father, and continued till the blood oozcd
from the lacerated skin, spottng his shirt and
rowsersand rickling down upon the brave little
fellow.
But as the merciless instrument of torture was
thrown on the ground the boy spoke.
+. You miH be Sorry for this, Father then the
eyelids closed, the long black lashes dropped O.
yer his pale checks, he stepped back and tainted.
There he lay among the blossoming flowers, his
checks pressed to the cold grass, and his book
hnyccd to his bosom even in his insensibility
Poor George did not come home till uightfalI
Then he stole away very softly to his bed i'll the
garnet, for he wished to escape observation, not
from any craven fear, but because he would not
pain his mother and his ttsle sister whom he
loved with all his heart But few moments af
ter the door was softly opened, and George,
George, repeated low, sweet voice. 1t was
his mother, and as the poor fellow heard the
kind centleness of that atfectonate parent, he
set up in bed and began to sob for the first time
since his father SO brutally beat him. Mrs Da-
mcr had brought pthe supper, hoping to find
him there, and yet almost fearing and trembling
to see him. She sat down the plate of bread and
butter and clasped her boy in her arms and
wept with him. He was her fayoritc child, al"
ways gentle and alfectionate, where he could be
he was nevertheless ll-treated by the father, and
Of course the more doated upon-the more loved
by the mother. When he found she was cry
ing, the brave little fellow, with desperate el-
fort, forced back his tears, and winding his lac
Grated arms around her neck, he kissed her and
tried to soothe her
"Don't cry, dear mother, am not much hurt,
said he looking into her face and trying to smile,
but the wet eyclid5 dropped, and he laid his face
in her bosom.
''You do not deserve this my noble boy!" she
murmured kissing his forehead your father will
be sorry for it some day; yes, my child, God will
bless you, and when you are man, such as my
heart tells me you will be, HE will think of this
and weep, and tremble, and pray for it to his yc
ry grave
81 know it, mother, told him So" said the
boy, raising his hands, his eyes sparkling with
an unearthly light-'but l ain glad Of it now it
has opened new world to me- light broke
en- me even while was standing there, with the
whip playing like scorpion about my should
ers mother, mother, it almost dazzIed me witt
briIlancy ; the mighty future lay unrolIed like q
great sea before Inc, and launched upon its bo-
SON in flood of gold | didn't feel the whip,
only thought of that-and then, and then-moth-
err, how old am | 2"
"Fourtcen my son" said she looking with as
constituent, for she had never heard language
like that from his lips before
eyes this morning was fourteen, but an
much older now mother" said lie withdrawing
his arms from her neck, and looking strangely
beautiful as he turned his eyes upward and
clasped his hands on his bosom.
81 tell you mother, It's the pulses Qfthc hear
and the thoughts Of the brain Hat make the time
and oh how fearGuIly have mine lived since
morning Your boy is almost man in heart
mother,-ye he whispered, 4 will never troub
lie father to horse-whip me again, | can take care
of myself now
Mrs Damer drew back with tears in hel eyes
and scarcely dared to answer the child before
her. A mighty change had indeed come ovel
him; the spirit Of that poor abused boy had sud
denly grown in power and might, until he wa:
as much above his opprcssors as the stars are a
boye the earth.
At that moment little Mary crept softly in, il
her night gown, with large piece ofapple pie il
her hand She was beautiful child, with deer
loving blue eyes, and aaxen ringlets playing O
yer an innocent brow The traces of tears
were OH her ripe rosy cheeks, but she smiled al
she saw her brother sitting up. Laying the pie
on the plate, she climbed upon the bed anc
winding her little arms about his neck, kisscC
him with the tenderness of a warm heartc,
child.
81 have brought you some pie, dear George
said she, 4 didn't want any supper myself, and
saved it for you, because know you are hun
cry. Father shan't whip you again, he shan't,
she continued, sobbing aloud, while the poor bo.
pressed her to his heart and began to cry him
self at this new proof of affection.
emo, no; sis he won't whip me again,
neverm
81 knew he wouldn't. would 90 between
Iyou, and he might beat me to death, should'n
care but he should never touch you again, m,
dear, good, kind George. am sure you arr
ten thousand times better than father ever wa
or ever will be-"
, mo not good murmured the boy, "but
will always be kind to YOU poor child. Co
bless you my sweet sister, good night, go now
a aud putting her gently from him, she slipped a
way and obeyed him without another word. TIL
mother held a long conference with her son;
was midnight before she left him, and once NOR
he was alone With his heart
The child left his fathers house with ne'
P born feeling in his heart. The dreadful and III
Z merted punishment he had suffered effected on
4 of those sudden changes in his character, whic
children sometimes UNDERGRADUATE rarely, pei
haps, at 50 early an age. 1t had ripened his fac
, uties, set him to thinking for himself, and youn
, as he was, and little as he knew of the worlC