Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1878-11-22
THE POWER OF MERCY.

Quiet enough, IN general, IS the quaint
old town Of LamborOugh. Why all this
hustle to-day? Along the hedge-bound
roads which lead to it, carts, chaises,
vehicles Of every description are jogging
along filled with countrymen; and here
and there the scarlet cloak or straw
bonnet of some female occupying a chair,
placed somewhat unsteadily behind
them, contrasts gayly with the dark
coats, or gray smock-frocks of the front
row; from every cottage of the suburb,
some individuals join the stream, which
rolls on Increasing through the streets
till it reaches the castle. The ancient
moat teens with idIers, and the hill
opposite, usually the quiet domain Of &
score or two of peaceful sheep, partakes
of the surrounding agitation.
The voice of the multitude which sur
rounds the courthouse, sounds like the
murmur of the sea, till suddenly it is
raised to Il sort of shout. John West,
the terror of the surrounding country,
the sheep-stealer and burglar, had been
found guilty.
t'What is the Sentence% is asked by
hundred voices.
The answer is Transportation for
EAfe."
But there was one standing aloof on
the hill, whose inquiring eye wandered
over. the crowd with indescribabte an
guish, whose pallid cheek grew more
and more CHASTITY at every denunciation
of the culprit, and who, when at last the
sentence was pronounced, fell insensi-
Bile upon the green sward. 1t was the
burglars son.
When the boy recovered from his
sWoon, it was late in the afternoon; he
was alone; the faint tinkling of the
sheep-bell had again replaced the sound
of the human chorus of expectation,
and dread, and testing; all was peace
full, he could not understand why he lay
there, feeling so weak and sick. He
raised himself TREMENDOUSLY and looked
around; the turf was cut and spoiled by
the trsmpling of many feet. All his life
of the last few months f1oated before his
memory his residence in his fathers
hoYel with rufianlY comrades. the des-
to sleep on his lowly bed, their expedi-
tions at night, masked and armed, their
hasty returns, the news of his fathers
capture, his own removal to the house
of some female in the town, the court,
bAAC bAAttAg kAlC COuuCAulldllOus
The father had been a harsh sIid
brutal parent, but he had not positively
il-used'his boy. Of the great and mer
ciful Father of the fatherless the child
knew nothing. He deemed himself
alone in the world. Yet grief was not
his pervading feeling, nor the shame Of
being known as the son of a transport.
It was revenge which burned within
him. He thought of the crowd which
had come to feast upon his fathers
agony; he longed to tear them to pieces,
and. he plucked savagely handful Of
the grass on which he leant. Oh, that
he were a mani that he could punish
them all-all-the spectators first, the.
constables, the judge, the jury, the wit
nesses-one of them especially, a clergy
man named Leyton, who had given his
evidence more positively, more clearly,
than all the others. Oh, that he could
do that man some injury-but for him
his father would not have been identi-
fed and convicted.
Suddenly a thought occurred to him,
his eyes sparkled with fierce delight.
81 know where he lives" he said to him
self; 'he has the farm and parsonage of
MilWood. will go there at once-it is
almost dark already. 1 will do as have
heard father say he once did to the
squire. l will set his barns and house
on fire. Yes, yes, he shall burn for 1.-THE
shall get no more fathers transported"
To procure box of matches was an
easy task, and that was all the prepara-
ton the boy made.
The autumn was far advanced. A cold
wind was beginning to moan among the
almost leafiess trees, and George Vests
teeth chartered, and his ill-clad limbs
grew numb as he walked along the fields
leading to MilwOod. "Lucky it's dark
night; this fine wind will fan the fame
nicely" he repeated to himself.
The clock was striking nine, but all
was quiet as midnight; not = soul stirr-
ing, not light in the parsonage win
dows that he could see. He dared not
open the gate, lest the click of the latch
should betray him, so he softly climbed
over; but scarcely had he dropped On
the other side of the wall before the
loud barking Of dog startled him. He
covered down behind the hay-rack,
scarcely daring to breathe. expecting
each instant that the dog would spring
upon him. It was some time before the
boy dared to stir, and as his courage
cooled, his thirst for revenge somewhat
subsided also, till he almost determined
10 return to Lamborough; but he was too
tired. too cold, too hungry-besides the
woman would beat him for staying out
SO late. What could he do? where should
he 60? and as the sense Of his lonely
and forlorn position returned, 80 did
also the afectionate remembrance OF his
father, his hatred of his accusers, his
desire to satisfy his vengeance; and
once more, courageous through anger, he
rose, took the box from his pocket, and