The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1866-07-24
The Quaker and the HighWayman.

ter Mary. She was scarcely seventeen, a
beautiful blonde with blue eyes, and pos
sessing as much wisdom as beauty, was
sought after by all the young men of Ael
fathers acquaintances. Those, of the
neighborhood tried in vain to win smile
Mary was not coquette, and SO far from
turning to account the effect produced by
her charms, she felt SO much annoyed by
| it that she could hardly treat with civility
her many admirers, one only excepted
Edward Weresford--a young artist who
was intimate with the family.
A simple occurrence was the cause oi
this intimacy. Premature death had ia.
ken away the wife of the Quaker, still in
her youth and beauty, and he, wishing tc
perpetuats the memory of one SO dear te
him, had called painter to her death bed
1t was there that Edward first met the
afflicted daughter there, between the
tears of one, and the sacred employment
of the other, grew up a serious attach
ment, The year passed since that event
had only served to strengthen the bond
formed under such circumstances ,and the
young man had already yentured to de-
clare his hopes and desires.
Toby had no reason for opposing the
inclinations of the young people. With
out being rich, Edward earned. by means
of his brush and palette, enough to hon.
orably maintain a family. His father,
Mr.. Weresford, an old city merchant, had
retired with an immense fortune; rare
example of repeated successes in specu
lations, so rapid, even, that very few per-
sons had been able to follow their pro-
gress. Mr.. Weresford, being of quick,
stern disposition, lived alone in the west
end of London, without troubling him
self about his son, and leaving him to
shift for himself. He was one of those
obliging egotists, who troubled no one, in
order not to be themselves troubled-one
of the most perfectly complaisant, provi-
ded nothing is asked of them. Edward,
then, had nothing to hinder his courtship
of the fair Quakeress, we'll knowing
that her father would not oppose her
marriage.
The situation of the lovers was most
prosperous, and old Toby waited for
nothing to fix the wedding day, save the
back rents due from his farms, intending
to set apart that income to defray the ex-
penses of the occasion. With this view
he left for his country seat, few miles
from London, in order to arrange his Is
fairs. He was absent from home butN
single day, and returning at night on
horseback, he perceived, little in ad-
vance, a horseman who blocked up the
road. He stopped for moment, uncer-
tain whether to proceed or turn back
While in this predicament the stranger
advanced toward him. It was too late to
think of escaping, and putting the best
possible face upon the affair, he started
his horse again. AS he approached the
troublesome stranger, he perceived that
he was masked, an unpleasant augury of
what was soon confirmed.
The unknown drew pistol, and point
ed it to the traveller, demanding his purse
The Quaker was not coward, but calm
in character, inoffensiye in religion, and
unable, being unarmed, to resist an
armed man, with the greatest GOODNESS he
drew from his pocket his purse containing
twelve gulneas. The highwayman took
it, counted out the money, and let the
Quaker pass, who believed himself clear.
ed, quickened his way to trot. But the
highwayman, seeing how little resistance
had been offered, and hoping for more
booty, soon rsjoined honest Toby, and
again blocked UP the way, and pointing
his pistol, cried out, "Your watch"
The Quaker, although surprised, did moi
show it in the least, and coolly taking out
his watch, and noticing the time, placed
the jewel in the hand of the thief, say
ing:
"Now pray you let me go home, fo'
my daughter will feel uneasy at my alb
sence."
"One moment. ~ replied the masked
cavalier, growing more hardened by hi
continued doeility, "swear that you have
no other sum-"
! 81 never swear" replied the Quaker.
i aWell, affirm then that you have abou
you no more money, and upon the wore
of highwayman, who will not resort t.
violence toward man who will yield will
so much grace, I will no further moles
you"
Toby reflected moment, and shool
his head "Whoeyer thou art" said b.
grayely, "you have noticed that I am
Quaker, who would not conceal the truth
although at the risk of my life. In N
I saddle bags / have the sum of two hun
, dred pounds sterling
"Two hundred pounds sterling!" erie
the highwayman, whose eyes glistene'
through his mask.
aIf you are good, if you are human,
} replied the Quaker, "you will not tax
, this money; my daughter is about bein
: married, and this sum is necessary for tn
occasion; it would be long time befor
: / could get together similar sum; th
|, dear child loves her intended, and it wo'
exceedingly cruel to deny their uniol
You have heart, perhaps you have 10y
{ ed; you would not, can not do SO wicke
an action"
r aWhat has your daughter, her lover,o
t their marriage got to do with me? Fewe
words and more promptness; give me th
n money"
j Toby, signing, raised the saddle bag
/ took out a heavy sack and handed
4 slowly to the highwayman, and then a
tempted to gallop away.
"Hold on, my Quaker friend, " said II
II