The Nevada journal., 1851-09-27

Quakers therefore, when he was in
formed that Lawson, regular disciple
of that class Of people, had purchased
ed the next farm to his, he de-
clared he would make him glad to
move away again. Accordingly, a
system of petty annoyances was COM
menced by him; and every time one
of Lawson's hogs Glanced to stray
upon Dood's place, he was beset by
men ard dogs, and most sayagely
abused. Things progressed thus for
nearly a year, and the Quaker, man
Of decidedly peace principles, appear
ed in no way to resent the injuries
received at the hanGs of his spiteful
neighbor. But matters were drawing
to a crisis; for Dood, more enraged
than ever at the quiet Of Obediah, made
oath that he would do something before
long to wake up the spunk Of Lawson.
Chance favored his design. The Qua
ker had a high-blooded flly, which he
was very careful in raising, and which
was just four years old. Lawson took
great pride in this animal, and had
refused large sum of money for her.
One evening, little after sundown,
as Watt Dood was passing around his
corn field, he discovered the flly feed
irg in the little strip Of prairie land
that separated the two farms, and he
conceived the hellish design Of throws
ing off two or three rails of his fence,
that the horse might get into his corn
during the night. lie did so, and the
next morning, bright and carly, he
shouldered his rifle and left the house,
Not long after his absence, hired
man whom he had recently employed,
heard the echo Of his gun, and in a
few minutes Dood, considerably excit,
ed and out of breath, came hurrying
to the house, where he stated that he
had shot at and wounded a buck {; that
the deer attacked him, and he hardly
escaped with his life.
The story was credited by all but
the newly employed hand, who had
taken a dislike to Patt, and, from his
manner, suspected that something was
wrong. He therefore slipped quietly
away from the house, and going through
the field in the direction of the shot,
he suddenly came upon Lawson's filly,
stretched upon the earth, with bullet
hole through the head, from which
the warm blood was still oozing.
The animal was still warm, and
could not have been killed an hour.
He hastened back to the dwelling Of
Dood, who met him in the yard, and
demanded, somewhat roughly, where
he had been.
'Pve been to see if your bullet made
sure work of Mr.. Lawson's lilly," was
the instant retort.
Watt paled for moment, but col
lccting himself, he fiercely shouted,
Do you mean to say that l killed
herr"
"Iiow do you know she is dead"
replied the man.
Dood bit his lip, hesitatcd a mo-
ment, and then turning, walked into
the house"
A couple Of days passed by, and the
morning Of the third one had broken,
as the hired man met friend Lawson
riding in search Of his filly.
A few words Of explanation cnsued,
when, with a heavy heart, the Quaker
turned his horse and rode home, where
he informed the people of the fate Of
his filly. No threat of recrimination
escaped him; he did not even 90 to
law to recover damages; but calmly
awaited his plan ard hour of revenge.
1t came at last.
Dood had fine Durham heifcr, for
which he had paid heavy price, and
upon which he counted TO make great
gains.
One morning, just as Obediah was
sitting down to breakfast, his eldest
son came in with the Information that
ncighbor Dood's hcifcr had broken
down the fence, entered the yard, and
after eating most Of the cabbages, had
trampled the well made beds and the
vegetables they contained, out Of all
shape-a mischief impossible to re-
pair.
"And what did thee do with her ia
cob" quietly asked Obediah.
81 put her in the farm-yard."
"Did thee beat herr"
II never struck her blow
"Right, Jacob, right; sit down to
thy breakfast, and when done eating
| will attend to the heifer."
Shortly after he had finished his
repast, Lawson mounted his horse, and
rode over to Dood's who sitting underE
the porch in front of his house, and
who, as he beheld the Quaker dio1
nount. supnnsed he was coming tot