, 1860-03-06
Old 1cu i'll the Highlands.
Willis, in his Idlewild letter to the Home

V0ufa4t ot lhiS week, says:
In philosophizing. The o:bcr day, with my
friend Torrey, the blacksmith, about what it IS
in Ibis neighbo1h,ood, that makes people kind
del him to open his revolutionary budget once
more, and he talked to Tie very Interestingly Of
the two or three veterans lie had known. The
village forge being, Us it were, the toll gate Of
local h1story--evers body sure to gossip little
with the blacksmith while the horse is shod or
tug bolt welded-the leather apron is likely to
Know thing or two that would escape Lossing
aud Bancroft; aud hare often got slimpses Of
stories that hare been pounded into T0rrey's
anvil. which hare made tne regret that this re.
celver OF emphasis could not be somehow mag
netize--made to give out agsn what it las
warmed up with oucc hearing but got cold
about aud forgotten. Unfortunately there is no
pumping either rorrey or his anvil lie is one
'of those receptaclcs OF passing momentum that
call only give out what is "right on top"-so
that VIC must be content to take hlm bY sucl,
fraguentary spontaneities rs fy of uubiddcu.
-! The Highland lend" as ii is sometimes
ca1led-1hc picturesque tang1s Of wooden hills
formin. wilderness Of sone leu miles across,
enclosed within the semicrc'e Of mountains
above West point-was favorite retreut, alter
the Revolution, for Guoh of tho IS anc;ant mud
honorables us liked Woodworking i1ldepcnd-
ence, though they owned no farn:. Subject to
no particular master, they liyed by wood. chop
ping aud clearing, and By bear:iunting aud
decr.shooting, FaIying it sometimes BIZ river
rafting and shad.iishing. There is here aud
there one Of them still left. pretty fair speci.
MEN is Old Isaiah Babcock, who is on the road
every day. Looking as if he "scarce had
strength enou@h to pull a shad off Il gr,diron,"
be will start before daylight, walk to the top Of
the mountain. chop u cord OF wood and get
back at sundown. And he is the son of old
BILLY 1}abcock, (already described in the Home
Jo"rAal,} who is still making baskets up in the
mountains, though he was sixteen years old
when Napoleon Douaparte Was born-now in
bis one hundred and seventh year, and ret
seeming to have no idea of dying.
''Old Brush" as t.cy called lin, was anoth-
er wonderful handler OF IN axe, who "kept
living on, long after he 1ooked rs if it WIS no
usc," und he was SO lively, that, when he did
die at Lust, they had Some trouble to bury him.
lie kicked out the foot-board Of lis coffin, in
the first place, they carried him to his grave
Tor SO 1t was said by everybody, though, pos
sibly, the weight of lis body showed it out. us
they brought him down the steep mountain,
OF loose boz for him, wasn't much Of carpeu-
ter)-but SO awful thunderstorm as there
was at the funeral, had not been witnessed for
years. Farmer Sutherland, with his ox.teau,.
did the buryiay-the man who, in his day, did
all the charity work for the neighborhood, "al-
ways ready 10 hitch up fur anything ar auv.
body and, as he filled up the grave, be stop
ped with awe ut the thunder and lightning. lie
was fond Of old I;ru>l, and thought the veteran
soldier ought to have been buried with military
honor. Yes" said he, US he stood and listen
ed to tremendous peal, |" his country won't
fi1e over him, but Heuvens artillery will"
And this chance speech ut the grave passed
into one Of the traditions Of the neixhboT-
hood" good as monument for old Brush"