The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1874-11-13

leaplng from the summit OF the wall
Quick, Bess, my rifiel'
And there--even while the veteran
stood looking cut upon the foes, the
brave girl-for slender in form and wild
ly beautiful in face, she is a brave girl
a hero woman, had managed, as if by
instructive impulse, to load rife. She
handed it to her father, and then loaded
another and another! Was not that 8
beautiful sight? A fair, young girl
grasping powder and ball, with ramrod
rising and falling her slender fingers.
Now look down to the wall again. The
refugees are climbing over its summit
again horrid cry and another wounded
man tumbled down on his dead and dy-
ing comrades.
But, now look, A smoke arises, the
fire blazes up around the wall; they have
fired the gate. A moment and the bolt
and lock will be burned from the socket
the passage will be free. Now is the
fiery moment of the old mans trial.
While the brave daughter loads he
continues to fire with that deadly aim
but now; oh, horror; he falls, he falls
with musket ball driven into his breast
The daughters outstretched arms re.
ceived the father, as with blood spout
ing from the wound, he toppled from the
window.
Oh, it is a sad and terrible picture.
The old man writhing there on the
oaken floor, the young daughter bending
over him, the light from the window
streaming over her face, over her fathers
gray hairs, while the ancient furniture
of the small chamber affords a dim
background to the scene.
Now, hark! The sounds of axes at the
hall door, shouts! hurrahs! curses!
we have the old rebel at last!'
The old man raises his head at that
sound; makes an effort to rise; clutches
for a a rife, and then falls back again
his eyes glaring, as the fierce pain oi
that wound quivers through his heart.
Now, watch the movements of the
daughter. Silently she loads = rife
silently she rests it against the head OF
that powder keg, and then placing hel
finger on the trigger, stands over hel
fathers form, while the shouts of the
enraged soldiers came laundering down
the stairs. Yes, they have broken the
hall door to fragments, are in possession
of the old block house, they are toward
the chamber with murder in their eyes
Had the old man a thousand lives they
would not be worth farthings purchase
now.
Still that girl, grown suddenly white
as the handkerchief round her neck
stands there trembling from head to foot
the rife in her hand, its drak tube Iaic
against the powder keg.
The door burst open! Look there
Stout forms are in the doorway, with
muskets in their hands; grim faces stain.
ed with blood, glaring into the room.
Now, as if her very soul had coined
the words, that young girl, with face
pale as ashes, hazel eyes glaring with
deathly light, utters this short bu
meaning speech:
Advance one step into this room, anc
I will fire this rifle into the powder
there
No oath quivers the lips of that girl
to confirm her resolution, but there sh,
stands alone, with her wounded father
and yet not soldier dare cross tht
threshold. Imbrued as they are in deed
of blood, there is something terrible tc
those men in the words of that young
girl, who stands there with the rifle laiC
against the powder keg.
They stand as if spell bound, on tn,
threshold of that chamber.
At last one bolder than the rest, 1
bravo, whose face is half inclosed in (
thick, red beard, grasps rife and level
it at the young girls breast.
Stand back, or / will firer
Still the girl is firm; the bravo ad
vances step and then steps back. Th'
sharp click of that rife falls with al
unpleasant emphasis upon his ear.
'Bess, am dying, grasps the old man
extending his arms. 'Ha, ha, we have
foiled the Britishers. Come, daughter
kneel here; kneel and say prayer fo
me, and let me feel your warm breatl
upon my face, for am getting cold. Oh
dark and coldp
Look! As those trembling accents fal
from the old mans tongue, those finger
unloose their hold of the rife; alread,
: the troopers are secure of one victim,
young and beautiful girl, for affection
for her father is mastering the heroisn
: of the moment-look! She is about t.
spring into his arms. But now she see
her danger again, she clutches the rifle
again, though her fathers dying accent
are in her ears, stands there prepared t
scatter that house in ruins it a singl
rough hand assails that veteran form.
!, There are few moments of terribl
suspense, then hurried sound far dow
), the mansion, then a contest on the Stair
] then the sound of rifle blaze. Then tn
t ruffians in the doorway fall crushed b
g the strong arm of the Continental So
n diers. Then a wild shrek quiver
e through the room, and that young gir
that hero of a woman-with one boun
: springs into her brothers. arms, ain
d nestles there while her father; his forl
s yet warm; lies with fixed eyeballs, upo
+ the floor.
Nine Hours in a Cistern.
3 [Erom the Decatur Ill ! Magnet