The New era. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1865-1871, 1865-10-05
parid .'fGtseis.
BN JOHN G. WHITTIER.

| = 'N'.Nif' iNs'Nt
the sorroWiui story of "Enoch Arden"
so sweetly told by the great English
poet? It Is the story ofa young man who
went to sea, leaving behind a sweet
young wife and a little daughter. He
was cast away Oh a desert island, where
he remained several years, when he was
discovered and taken off by passing
vessel Coming back to his native town,
he found his Wifcmarried to an old play
mate-a good man, rich and honored,
with whom she was living happily The
poor man, unwilling to cause her pain,
resolved not to make himself known to
her, and lived and died alone. The
poem has reminded meof very similar
story OF my own New England neighbour
hood, which / have often heard, and
like Alfred Tennyson's, but in my own
poor prose. | can assure my reader that
in its main particulars it is q true tale.
One bright summer morning more
than three score years age, David Mat
son, with his young Wife and his two
healthy, bareIoeted boys, stood on the
bank OF the river, near their dwelling.
They waited there for Pelatiah Curtis to
come round the point with his Wherry,
and take the husband and the father to
the port, q few miles below. The Lively
Turtle was about to sail on a voyage to
Spain, and David was to go in her as
mate. They stood there in the lovely
morning sunshine, talking eheerfully,
but had you been near enough you could
have seen tears in Anna Natson's blue
eyes, fer she loved her husband, and size
knew there was always danger on the
sea. And Dayid's bluff, CHEEKY voice
trembled a little now and then, for the
iG,l he I,
mae. with the dear wife and her pretty
boys. But presently the Wherry came
alongside, and David was just stepping
into it when he turned back to kiss his
wife and children once more.
IN With you, man. said Pelatiah
Curtis; !" there's no time for kissing and
such foeleries when the tide serves.'
Ard SO they parted. Anna and the
boys went back TO their home and David
to the port whence he sailed off in the
Lively Turtle. And months passed,
autumn followed the summer, and
winter the autumn, and then spring
came, and anon it was summer on the
river side, and he did not come back.
And another year passed, and then the
Old sailors and fishermen said that the
Lively Turtle was a lost ship, and would
never come back to port; and poor Anna
had her honbazine gown dyed black,
and her straw bonnet trimmedin mourn
ing ribbons, and henceforth she was
known only as the Widow MatsoD.
Now you must know the Mohamedan
people Of Algiers and Tripoii, and Maga-
dore and Sallee, on the Baabary coast,
had for Il long time been IN the habit of
fitting out galleys and armed boats to
seize upon the merchant Nessclsof Chris
tan nations, and make slaves of their
crews and passengers, justas men calling
themselves Christians in America We're
sending vessels to Africa to catch black
slaves for their plantations. The Lively
Turtle fell into the hands of one of these
rowing sea robbers, and the crew were
taken to Agiers, and sold in the market
place as slaves, poor David Matson
among the rest.
When a boy he had learned the trade
Of ship carpenter with his father on the
Merrimac, and now he was set to work
naturally a kind man, did not overwerk
him. lie daily had his three loaves of
bread, and when his clothing was worn
out its place was supplied by the coarse
wool and camefs hair Worn by the
Bermer women. Three hours before
sunset he was released from work, and
Friday, which was the Mohamedan
Sabbath, was day Of entire rest. Once
a year, at the season called Ramadan, he
was left at leisure for whole week.
Sotime went on-days, weeks, months
and years. His hair became grey. He
still dreamed Of his good Anna and the
boys. He wondered if they still lived,
whether they thought Of him, and what
they were doing. The hope Of seeing
them again grew fainter and fainter, and
at last nearly died out and he resigned
himself to his fate as a slave for life.
But one day a handsome, middle-aged
gentleman, in the dress OF one of his
own countlymen, attended by a great
officer Of the Bey, entered the ship-yard
and called up before him The American
captives. The stranger was none other
than Joel Barlow, Commissioner Of the
United States to procure the liberation
Of the slaves belonging to that Govern
ment. He took the men BY the hand as
they came up, and told them they We're
free. AS you might expect, the poor
fellows We're very grateful; some laughed
and some wept for joy, some shouted
and sang, and threwu up their caps, while
others, with David Matson among them,