Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1854-12-16

was tho last human speech that reached his ear il
his wild death struggle.
But much happened afore that time, From
the day l met them walking, Lefty turned towarC
me; l could see a part of it was to spite Gilbert
Tor shed be twice Us kind when he vas near, OF
nkely to hear 1t but by-and-by she got to like me
Tor my own sake. and it was all settled for ouI
marriage. Gilbert kept aloof from every one, and
tell into a sad, careless way. His very gait wa:
changed, his step used to BIO brisk and sounding and
now his foot fingered heavily on the ground. | used
to try and daunt him with my eye, but he would
always meet my look in a quiet, steady way, for
all so much about him was altered the lads would
not play, with him aud rs soon rs he found he
was to Ue sighted by them whenever he came to
quoting, or cricket, he just left off coming.
The old clerk was the only one he kept compa.
ny with or perhaps, rightly to speak, the only
one who would keep company with him. They
got so thick at last, that old Jonas would say Gil.
bert had gospel on his side, and did no more than
gospel toll him to do; but we none Of us paid
much credit to what he said, more by token
our vicar had a brother, n colonel in the army
and rs we threeped it many n time to Jonas, would
he set himself up to know the gospel better than the
vicar? that would he putting cart before the horse,
like the French radicals. And if the vicar had
thought quarreling and fighting wicked and again
the Bible, would lie have made so much work
about all the victories, that were as plenty rs
blackbcrries ut that time of day, and kept the little
bell of Lindal church forever ringing or would
he have thought so much of my brother, the colo.
nell as he was always talking On.
After | was married to Lefty, | left off hating
Gilbert. | even kind of pitisd him-he was so
scorned and sighted and for all he'd a bold look
about him, as it he wer, not ashamed, he seemed
pining and shrunk. It's a wearying thing to be
kept at arms length by ones kind and 50 Gilbert
found Ii poor fellow. The little children took to
him. though they'd be round about him like a
swarm of bces-them rs was too young to know
what a coward was, and only felt that he was ever
ready to love and help them, and was never loud
or cross, however, naughty they might be. After
while we had our little one too; such a blessed
darling she was, and dearly did we love her; Let.
ty IN especial, who seemed to get all the thought
| used to think she sometimes wanted, after She
had her baby to care for.
"All my kin lived on this side the bay, IN above
kellet. Jane CHATS her that lies buried near yon
white ro%se-troe) was to be married, and nought
would serve her but that Lefty and | must come
to the wedding; for all my sisters loved Lefty, she
had such winning ways with her. Lefty did not
like to leave her baby, nor yet did | want her to
take it; so after a talk, we fixed it to leave it with
Lettys mother for the afternoon. | could see her
heart acked IL bit, for she'd never left it till then,
and she seemed to fear all manner of evil, even to
the French coming and taking it away. Well
we borrowed a shandry, and harnessed my old
gray mare. as used to in tn cart, and set off as
grand as King George, across the Sands, about
three O'Clock, for you see it were high water about
twelve, and we'd to 60 and come back the same tide,
as Lefty could not leave her baby for long. 1t
were n merry afternoon, were that last time !
ever saw Lefty laugh heartily and last time |
laughed downright hearty myself. The latest
crossing time fell about nine o'clock, and we were
late at starting. Clocks were wrong, and we'd
work chasing a pig father had given to Lefty to
take home we bagged him at last and he screech-
ed and screeched in the back part O. the shandry,
and we laughed, and they laughed and in the
midst of all the merriment the sun set, and that
sobered us q bit, Tor tEen we knew what time it
was. | whipped the old mare, but she was a deal
beener than che was in the morning, and would
neither go quick up nor down the brows, and
they're not n few 'twixt Kellet and the shore. On
the Sands it were worse. They were very heavy,
for the fresh had come down after the rains we'd
had. Lord how did whip the poor mare. to
make the most of the red light as yet lasted. You
maybe don't know the Sands gentlemen. From
Boiton-side where we started from, it's better than
six miles to Cart-lane, and two channels to cross,
let alone holes and quicksands. It the second
channel from us the guide waits all during cross
ing time from sunrise to sunset; but for
the three hours on each side high water he's
not there, in course. He stays after sunset if he's
fore spoken, not else. So now you know where
we were that awful night. For we'd crossed the
best channel about two miles, and it were growing
darker and darker above and around US, all but
one red line of light above the hills, when we
came to a hollow, (for all the Sands look so fiat.
. hIhH IL OllOW Ill lucW WHERE YOU loose
all sight Of the shore.) We were longer than we
would ha' been in crossing the hollow, the sand
was so quick and when we came up again, there,
again the blackness, was the white line of the
rushing tide coming up the bay. 1t looked not q
mile from us; and when the wind blows up the
bay, it comes swifter than a g~alloping horse
Lord help us! said | and then | were sorry I'd
spoken to brighten Lefty, but the words were crush
ed out of my heart by the terror. | felt her shiv-
er up by my side, and clutch my coat. And as if
the pig las had screached itself hoarse sometime
ago. had found out the danger we were all in, he
took to squealing again, enough to bewilder any
man. | cursed him between my teeth for his
noise; and yet it was Gods answer to my prayer,
blind sinner was. Aye. you may smile sir, but
God can work through a many a scornful thing, if
need be.
by this time the mare were all in a lather, and
trembling and painting as if in mortal fright for
though we were on the last bank afore the second
channel, the water was gathering up her legs, and
she so tired out When we came close to the chan
mel she stood still, and not all my fogging could
get her to stir; she fairly groaned aloud, and shook
in a terrible quaking way. Till now, Lefty had
not spoken; only held my coat tightly. l heard
her say something, and bent down my head.
81 think. John--l think shall never see
baby again.
And then she sent up such a cry,-so loud, and
shrIIl, and pitiful: 1t fairly maddened me. j
pulled out my knife to spur on the old mare, that
it might end one way or the other, for the water
was stealing sullenly up to the very ~axletree, let
alone the white waves that knew no mercy in their
steady advance. That one quarter of an hour, sir,
seemed as long as all my life since,-Thoughts, and
fancies, and dreams, and memory ran into each
other. The mist, the heavy mist, that was like a
CHASTITY curtain, shutting us in for oeath, Seemed
to bring with it the scents of the flowers that grew
around our own threshold it might be, for it was
falling on them like blessed dew, though to us it
was MS n shroud. Lefty told me after that she
heard her baty crying for her. above the gurgle of
the rising waters, as plain as ever she heard any
thing but the sea-birds were skirling, and the pig
shrieking-I never caught it; it was miles away,
Mt any rate.
Just as | d gotten my knife out, another sound
was close upon us, blending with the gurgle of the
near waters, and the roar Of the distant; mot so
distant, though J we could hardly see, but we
thought we saw something black against the deep
lead color of wave, and mist, and sky. 1t neared.