The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1848-11-18

h,sHla Nor vaunteth with her tongue I'''h'
E.dT .bsisg sllk s5;iel s7ged 4! }'o"
In penitence she pleadeth faith. ~ sdj sl
Hope smie;h at the door; ,a
'ssi Believeth first, then softly saith.
. f. 7"do. brother, sin no more" ''
-ss1l 1,-.1-----e-- 5000 - 10" "1.
.,ao'a .5 . ID The Wagner. .", vi la'o .aa
-. - '"'f. ~ Z SAMUEL wAnsns, r.D, i.ss
80 .qaaN
King John, Hubert, throw thine eye
o. yon young boy. Dost understand me! W
Hsis avery serpent inimy woy. '"H'| Nnh
ThSa 'r'hi' keeper nd d'Ti w;,, t., keen him 60 r'H
That he shall not offend your majesty
King John. Death u .s' {.e7i'7 &al"
Hub. My Lord! .sglsl ..o.
King John. grave.
Hub 500 ,7ojle! He shall not lives
could be merry now. .i-
0i!dl7oJ 'GKING JOHN. Act III, Scene 8.
.ynThe singular - the apparently i'm.
broi,able circumstances which form'the
basis Of the ensuing narrative, occurred
about fifty years ago. lam not aware
fof sttieir having been till now brought
before the public eye in any other shape
lhansa brieffand naked ,contemporane.
ous report. i am n curious man, and
some what successful in hunting after
such matters, hut the following are the
fruits of a discovery made a few years
ago BY mere accident. One or two
cases are on record in the criminal an.
mails of this and other countries, in
which similar motives induced nearly
similar conduct but infinitely less sys.
'tematic, mysterious and atrocious, than
7what'I am at present about to develope.
'5SShfewsbury clock was tollng twelve,
on a fine frosty moonfigh, night. usher
ering in the Christmas Of 1850, as a
4wagone,. with sno w-whi,e smock.frock
.on and a half-emp,ied jug of ale in his
hand, sailed out of the Hunting Horn
lnnr-one OF the chiefesl in Shrewsbu.
~. His wagon was standing before
the, door, the covering encrusted with
,hoar frost, and noble team of horses
attached to the well.laden vehicle were
refreshing themselves with hay and wa.
ter, quietly submitting. the while, TO the
,sibiiatory civilties Of the hostler. The
wagoner watched them with fcompla-
cency, as he ;drained his jug; and then
lifting up his smock, he extracted a fe w
-half.Pence' from his pocket, and gave
:therh to the hosller.i siT .sap i91ai
sand do you 60 into the tap, hostler,''
said he, "and see whether those two
= partners O. mine are stirring Them.
selves Hang me, an don't think
they would ST. there till this time TO.
morrow" He was interrupted by a
shout Of boisterous laughter from the
4ap.room. 81 sav-within there! Bill
Thomas!' cried the wagoner, returning
40 the room he had just quilted, "what
sbe sc doing in there setting? Come,
come! Sc know as well as It's start
ing time! DO you hear! it has just
struck twelve byfthe. church clock.n--,
"Then tits Tomorrow" .qupth one Of
the wags he was addressing. .,,-,a
.Come, come, now!' continued the
wagoner; "we'ye a weary weeks drive
before us--and you know it as well as
l! Are ye moving, chi" "Aha, Dick
isn't this christmas morning 2d Come I!
ldont ye be sdlking on the beginning Of
! this blessed. day; but sit We down a lit.
de longer. aud drink u merry Christmas
I % one ano,hespe .No, l. won't" re-
I piled ahe wngoner resolutely. rdl'
"Well, then--and ye must start, dc
s,Ys drive the wagon ,slowly-and we'll
!, both ,be after, you before you reach the
;naker,s Pond. There's some. ale a
,spieilg for us, Dick" replied Thomas,
! smacking his lips enticipgly. saaNo, no,
!. Iknow my, dpty-and I'm off, grum-
bled the wagner, quitting the room.-
He went out, cast his careful eye over
tho trim Or his horses, and had Just
reached down his whip from the wagon
bed, when On 8f his companions touch
I'd him upon the elbow, and proffered
him d 'cup'of warm spice scented ale.
"Come, Dick-come, drink tyoff," said
0 Bill, coaxinglycaa sgood,natured-lad Of
v one or two and twenty, that could, say
.dair ,hingsias we'll as .manyGof bis bel
itsrs; scomes you won't refuse to drink
US a merry riChristmassq This aleTis
special, mani r Won't you drive on
. slowly for half an hour, or .so--and
{ well BE- with YOU. al sure as death, by
lhe time you reach the Bakers Ponds
Come, Come, Dick we'ff do, maybe
'mors Gt YOU pmche' The 'good-