The Southern journal., 1846-03-21

ded man topping down upon his dead
and dying comrades!
But now look!-A smoke rises
there; fire blazes up around the
wall, they have fred the gate. = A
moment, and the bolt and the lock
will be burnt from its sockets-the
passage will be free. Now is the fiery
moment Of the old mans trial!-
While his brave daughter loads, he
continues to fire, with the deadly aim !;
but now-oh horror! he falls,'he falls
with muskel ball driven into his
breast-the daughters outstretched
arms receive the father, as, with blood
spoyting from his wound, he topples
back from the window.
N, it is sad and terrible picture
That old mar, u,writhing there, on the
oaken floor, the young daughter ben.
ding ovel him-the light from the
window Streaming over her face, over
her fathers grey hairs, while the an
cient furniture Of the small chamber
affords a dim back ground to the
scene.
Now hark!-the sound of axes at
the hall Observation-Disclosures
ses!
"We have the old rebel at last!"
The old man raised bis head at that
sound: makes an effort to rise; clutch
es for rife, and then fans back again,
his eyes glaring, as the fierce pain Of
that wound quivers through his heart.
Now watch the movement of that
daughter. Silently she loads rifle.
silently she rests its barrel against the
head of that powder keg, and then:
placing her finger on the trigger.
stands over her fathers form, while
the shouts Of the enraged soldiers
come laundering from the stairs. Yes.
they have broken the hall door to
fragments, they are in possession Of
the block house, they are rushing to-
wards that chamber, with murder in
their hearts and in their glaring eyes!
Had the old man a thousand lives they
were not worth farthing's purchase
now.
Still that girl-grown suddenly
white as the 'kerchief around her
neck-stands there, trembling from
head 10 foot, the rifle in her hand, its
dark tube laid against the powder keg.
The door is burst open-look there
Stout forms are in the doorway, with
muskets in their hands, grim faces,
stained with blood, glare into the
room.
Now, as if her very soul was coined
into the words, that young girl, with
her face pale as ashes, her hazel eye
glaripg with deathIy light, utters this
short yet meaning speech:
"Advance one step into this room,
and will fire this rifle into the pow
der there!"
No oath quivers from the lips Of that
girl, TO confirm her resolution, but
there she stands alone, with her woun,
ded father, and yet not soldier dare
cross the threshold. Embrued as they
are in deeds Of blood, there is some-
thing terrible TO these men, in the
simple words Of that young girl, who
stands there, with the rifle laid agains,
the powder keg.
They stood as if spell-bound on the
threshold ofthat chamber!
Al last, one bolder than t he rest, a
bravo, whose face is half concealed in
a thick red beard, grasps his musket
and levels it at the young girls
breast!
"Stand back, or by II will frer
Still the girl is firm; the bravo ad.
vances a step and then starts back
The sharp "click" of that rifle fall,
with an unpleasant emphasis upon hi1
ear.
"Bess, ! am dying" gasps the olt
man, family extending his arms. "Ha
ha, we foiled the Brtishers! Come
l-daughter-kneel here; kneel an,