Delaware inquirer. (Wilmington, Del.) 1859-18??, 1860-04-07

plain as words could speak, to fight out the
| quarrel. He told me then, he had no quarrel
against me; that he might have said some-
thing to put me up; he did not know that he
had, but that if he had, he asked pardon; but
that he would not fight no how.
~ was so full of scorn at his cowardliness,
| that was vexed, I'd given him the second
chance, and Joined in tho yell that was set
/ up, twice as bad as before. He stood it out,
his teeth set, and looking very white, and
when we were silent for want of breath, he
said out loud but in hoarse voice, quite diff
| ferent from his own:
| az cannot fight, because think it Is wrong
to quarrel, and use violence
| "Then he turned to 60 away; were so be-
| side myself with scorn and hate that called
out:
| "'Tell truth, lad at least if thou dare not
| fight, dunnot 60 and tell lieaboutit it. Mothers
moppet is afraid of black eye, pretty dear,
| II shannot be hurt, but il munnot tell lies
swell, they laughed, but | could not laugh.
1t seemed such thing for a stout young chap
\ to be coward, and afraid
"Before the sun had set il was talked Of all
| over Lindal, how had challenged Gilbert to
| fight, and how he'd denied me and the folks
| stood at their doors and looked at him going
| up the hill to his home, as if he'd been moa-
| key, or foregner-but no one wished him
| good cen. Such thing as refusing to fight
had never been heard Of afore at Lindal. Next
day, however, that had found voice. The men
muttered the word coward in his hearing,
| and kept aloof; the women Uttered as he pas
sed, and the little impudent lads and lasses
| shouted out, How long is it sim thou turned
| quaker?' Goodbye, Jonathan Broad-brim,
and such like jests.
"That evening met him, with Lefty by his
| side, coming up from the shore. She was al
most crying as came upon them at the turn
of the lane; and looking up in his tnce as IL
| begging him something. And so she was I;
she told me it after. For she did really like
| him; and could not abide to hear him scorned
by every one for being coward; and she, coy
as she was, all but told him that very night
| that she loved him, and begged him not to
disgrace himself but fight me, as I'd dared him
to. When he still stuck to it he could not,
| for that it was wrong, she was so veXed and
mad-like at the way she'd spoken, and the
| feelings she'd let out to coax him, that she
said more stinging things about his being
coward than all the rest put together, accord
| ing to what she told me, SIR afterwards) and
ended by saying she'd never speak to him
again, as long as she lived;-she did once
again though-her blessing was the last hu-
man speech that reached his ear iu his wild
| death struggle.
the day met them walking, Lefty turned to-
wards me / could see part of it was to spite
Gilbert for she'd be twice as kind when he
was near, or likely to hear of it, but by-and-
by she get to like me for my own sake, and it
was all settled for our marriage. Gilbert kept
| aloof from every one, and fell into sad, care
less way His very gait was changed, his step
used to be 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 steady, quiet way,
for all so much about him was altered the
lads would not play with him; and as soon as
he found he was to be sighted by them when
ever he came to quoting, or cricket, he just
lett off coming
'.The old clerk was the only one he kept
company 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 Gilbert had gospel on bis side, and
did no more than gospel told him to dos but
we, none of US gave much credit to what he
said, more by token our vicar had a brother, a
colonel in the army aud as we threeped it
many time to Jonas, would he set himself up
to know the gospel better than the vicar? that
would be putting cart afore the horse, like the
French radicals. And if the vicar had thought
quarrelling and fighting wicked, and again the
| Bible, would he have made so much work
about all the victories that were as plenty as
blackberries at that time Of day, and kept the
little bell of Liudal church forever ringingi or
would he have thought so much of my brother
the colonel, as he was always talking on?
CATER was married to Lefty, | left off hat
ing Gilbert even kind of pitied hm-he
was so scorned and slighted; and for all he'd
a bold look about him. as if he were not asham-
ed he seemed pining and shrunk. lisa wear
ing thing to be kept at arms length by ones
kind: and so Gilbert found it, poor fellow,
The little children took to him, though; they'd
be round about him like a swarm of bees
them as was too young to know. what a cow
ard was, and only felt that he was ever ready
to love and to help them, and was never lond
or cross however naughty they might be. Af-
ter while VIC had our little one tooi such o
blessed darling she was, and dearly did We
love her. Lefty in especial, who seemed 10 gel
all the thought, used TO :hink sometimes she
wanted after she had her baby to care for.
"All my kin lived on this side the bay, up
above Kellet. Jane (thats her that lies buried
near yon white rose-tree) was to be married
and nought would serve her but that Lett,
and / must come to the wedding; for all my
sisters loved Lefty, she hpd such winning way'
with her. Lefty did not like toleave her baby
nor yet did want her 10 take it SO, after tall
we fixed to leave il with Lctty's mother for th'
| afternoon. cOulu see HeF HthTt hSueu pit
for she'd never left it till then, and she seemed
to fear all manner of evil, even TO the Frencl
coming and taking it away. Welt We Dor
rowed shandry, and harnessed my old gra.
mare as used in tn cart, and set of as grant
as king George across the Sands about thre
o'clock, for you see it were high water abou
twelve and we'd TO go and come back sam
tide, as Lefty could not leave her baby TO
! long. 1t were a merry afternoon were that !
last time ever saw Lefty laugh heartily an
for that matter, last time ever laughed down
, , right hearty myself The latest crossing tim
: fell about nine o'clock, and we were late a
starting. Clocks were wrong; and we'd
piece Of work chasing pig father had give
G Lefty to take home; we bagged him at last
{ and he screeched and screeched in the bac
( part o. shandry, and We laughed, and the
r laughed; and in the midst of all the merrlmen
: the sun set, and that sobered us bit, for the
, we knew what time it was. whipped the OIL
: mare, but she was deal keener than she wa
i in the morning and would neither 90 quick II
7 nor down the brows, and they're mot a fey
I 'twixt Kellet and the shore. On the Sands
r were worse. They were very heavy for tn
Y fresh had come down after the rains wcd had
4 Lord how did whip the poor mare, TO max
! the most of the red light as yet lasted. You
d maybe, don't know the Sands gentlemen
q From Bolton-side, where We started from it
1 better than six miles to Cart-lane, and tw
channels to cross, let alone holes and quick
f sands At the second channel from us th
e guide waits all during crossing time from sun
/. rise to sunset but for the three hours o
each side high water he's not there in courst
1 He stays after sunset if he's fore-spoken; nc
/. else So now you know where we were tha
E awful night. For we'd crossed the first char
5 mel about two mile, aud il were growing darkt
l.. ~, a.,1 ..v.A oil mi N