Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1857-10-21

plecemeal through the bars, the very turnkey
set not his foot there in his rounds. The cell
had long been vacant and would have remained
so now, but for the spite of the official mon
arch of this cherries realm /; for but little
resistance to the chain that was being fastened
on his hands, the prisoner gained that dark
rulers displeasure, which was vented by thrust
/ ing him into this den of night
| Mockngly the turnkey thrust the younp
man in, and before loosing his chains from the
prisoners limbs, he raised the lantern to his
face, with black grin, as if it were a joy to
| gloat over fellow beings misery.
| But he saw something there in the calmness
Of stern and horrible purpose that made his
own dark features ghastly. A rattle of the
chain as it fell from his hands told of his ter
| ror--another, as it arose with the two arms of
the desperate youth, and fell with crash upon
| the coward's shoulder, told what cause he had
| to fear!
I The blow fell not on his brain, only because
| he shrank from it; and before the shackled
prisoner could lift his irons for another, the
| wretch was past his reach the door was thrown
between them. and the courageous officer of
| the State fired pistol shot at random through
the grating, and fled, careless of what might
| have been the result, and determined to tame
| by starvation the spirit he provoked by brutal
| ity.
The shot had no effect but to fill with sitting
| sulphur the narrow cell, and to wiring an oath
with cry of regret that his body had not
| been in its path, from the frantic prisoner.
| He sunk where he stood, for in the darkness
| nothing was discernible; and clenching his
| fetters with his hands, he cursed aloud, and
| howled till his voice grew weak then he drop
| ped his head upon his knees and muttered to
| himself. One near him could have heard such
| words as these: ssTen years. o, God Ten
| years of darkness, and stone and iron, Ten
years here Forgery! The curse of the with
cred and heart-scalded light on the wretch
who first invented traffic and doubly hot on
him who made words stand for things, and an
ink-biot horrible significance! Forgery >
they lie / only wrote the name of my en-
ployer, as h ad done an hundred time before;
and only that wrote it on my own account,
and not his. l must take this!'' His chains
ratified with his anger. SIT is much,'' he con-
tinued. sthat 1 should counterfeit a petty
scrawl, a thing of their invention who use it
| but the lying wretches whose whole life is
counterfeit of honor and truth, and God S hand
| writing, law-fit tool for such sanctioned-has
| no terrors for them To counterfeit a smile
| and the warm pressure of friendship, when the
whole heart is black and icy cold, is the daily
| lie of cursed society, and neither Gods law
nor mans revenge has any retribution. Bonds
| of dues owed from man to man are sacred, and
| surrounded with terrors; but the hypocrite's
prayer and the sycophant's smile, and all the
forms and scemings which are bonds on human
hearts, may pass current as the winds, and
| none may say them nay-'
All, wretched youth, hush Those stones
there in the black night may have ears, and
| thou hast mingled with thy evil words enough
of truth, bitter and bitterly said for wrath's
| sake, to have doomed thee at once to darker
fate than thine, though thou hadst been white
| from all offence, and only inspired by honest
| goodwill and integrity.
sWen,'' said the forlorn youth, s'let the ac-
cursed world triumph! did forge name;
but the base fawning of humanitv-the craven
bow of servility to law or CUSTOM will not
| forge or pass. Nay, curse on the law and the
| laws minons-I can bear Curse the day that
| Curse man and beast, and the free air. and all
| that would mock me, but for my dungeon for
| tress cannot Curse the friend who ruined
me, the grave fools who would have saved ne,
| the beggary that made me seek wealth, and the
fortune that cursed me with its poison infu-
| ence! Nay, curse all that is-myself and all
| that know me-the father who begat me, and
| the moth''-
/ A hot hand, shifting on his very brain and
| heart, struck dumb the wretch before his lips
could fashion the horrible imprecation.
A dew-drop, sweated from his cold cell,
| struck on his check with a rebuke that it
should be dry at the memory of his mother,
and pale blue light, a dim phosphorescence
from the damp filth of his unused cell. fiutter-
ed before him, as if to hint to the guilty youth
| how closely he treads upon the brink of hell.
Who, in whatever place he may be, dares to
| curse his mother. The youth fell mute on his
| dungeon floor, and tender voice-the fare
well voice of his mother-seemed to sound in
| his ears as it had sounded when he left their
poor home for the great city 'sAnd now Will
lie, my boy, shun wicked company and II
| evil suggestions come, remember your poor
old mother. God bless you, Willie! Good
| bye.'
tear from her old eyes as she turned back 10
| her wheel, while he, full of young hope and
nromise. went forth into the world to seek his
| CHAPTER 1.-THE SEARCH.