The anti-monopolist., 1876-02-03

OAASOA OA VIZ OCos AuO bdSlu Ouu,
CHEEKY voice trembled a little now and
then, for the honest sailor loved his snug
home on the Merrimack, 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.
'sln with you, man. said Pelatiah Cur
tbs. ''There's no time for kissing and
such foo!eries when the tide serves
And so they parted. Anna and the
t'oys went back to their home. and David
to the port, whence he sailed off in the
Lively Turtle. And months passed;
autumn followed summer, and winter the
antumn; and then spring came, anon, it
was summer On the river side, and he
did not come back. And another year
passed, and then the old sailors and fish.
ermen shook their heads solemnly, and
said the Lively Turtle was lost ship, and
would never come back to port. And
poor Anna had her bombazine gown dyed
in black, her straw bonnet trimmed in
mourning ribbons, and henceforth she
was known as the Widow Matson.
Now you must know that the Moham-
medan peaplc Of Algiers or Tripoli. and
Magadore and Sallee, on the Barbary
coast, had for long time been in the
habit Of fitting out galleys and armed
boats to seize upon merchant vessels Of
Christian nations, and make slaves Of
their crews and passengers, just as men
calling themselves Christians in America
were sending vessels to Africa to catch
black slaves for their plant ations. The
Lively Turtle fell into the hands of one
of these rowing sea robbers. and the crew
was taken to Aigicrs and sold in the mar
ket place as slaves, poor David Matson
among the rest
When boy he had learned the trade
of shipcarpenter with his father, on the
Merrimack. and now he was set at work
ia the dock yards. His master, who was
naturally kind man, did not overwork
him. He bad daily bis three loaves Of
bread and when his clothing was worn
out. its place was supplied by the coarse
cloth of wool and camel's hair, vowed b.,
the Berber women. Three hours before
sunset he was released from work. and
Friday. which is the Mohammed Sabbath,
is day Of entire rest.
Once year. at the season called Ram
aden, he was left at leisure for whole
week. So time went on-days, weeks,
mouths, and years His dark hair be-
came gray. He still dreamed of his old
home on the Merrimack, and of his good
Anna and the boys. He wondered
whether they yet lived. what they were
doing. The hope Of ever seeing them
| avoiu Urow 70 owl Tc,~tor ooJ la,
nearly died out and he resigned himself
to his fate as slave for life.
But one day a handsome. middle.aged
gentleman, in the dress Of one Of our own
countrvmen, attended by great officer
of the law, enterel the ship-yard, and
called up before him the American cap
tives. The stranger was none other than
Joel Barlow, commissioner of the United
states to procure the liberation Of slaves
belonging to that government. He took
the men by the hand as they came up.
aid told them they were free. As you
might expect the poor fellows were very
grateful; some laughed, some wept Tor
joy, some shouted and sang and threw up
their caps, while others,wit David Mat
son among them. knelt down on the ch ,ps
and thanked God for the great deliver.
ance.
This is very affecting scene,'' said
the commissioner, wiping his eyes. II
must keep the impression Of it for my
'Coiumbiad, and drawing out his tab
lets he proceeded to write an apostrophe
to freedom, which afterward found
place in his great epic.
David Mat son had saved a little money
during his captivity. by odd jobs and
work on holidays. He got a passage to
Malaga, where he bought nice shawl for
his wife and watch for each of his little
boys. He then went to the quay. where
Il an American ship was lying, just ready
to sail for Boston.
Almost the first man he saw on board
was Pelatiah Curtis. who mad rowed him
down to the port seven years before. He
found that his old neighbor did not know
him, so changed was he with his long
beard and Moorish dress, whercupon,
without telling his name. he began to put
questions about his old home. and finally
asked him if he knew Mrs. Matson.
Il rather think do" said Pelatiah.
She my wife
aoui WIG CItcu tue AObutI. cue
is mine before God and man. I am Da.
vid Matson and she is the mother Of nv
children"
And mine. too" said Pelatiah. Il
left her with babe in her arms. If you
arc David Matson, your right to her is
out'awed; 1t any rate, she is mine, and
Am not the one to give her up."
"God is great!" said poor David Mat
son. unconsciously repeating the familiar
words Of Moslem submission. Ellis will
be done. l loved her, shall never see
her again. Give these, with my blessing.
to the good woman and the boys" and
he handed over. With . sigh. the little
buadle containing the gifts for his wife
and children.
He shook hands with his rival. "Pela.
tiah. he said, looking back rs he left the
ship, "be good to Anna and my boys"
"Ay. ay. sir - responded the sailor. in
. careless tone He watched the poor
maa passing slowly up the narrow street