Louisiana capitolian. (Baton Rouge, La.) 1879-1881, 1879-03-15
CAUGHT IN HIS owl TOLLS.

The ringing sound that came from a
blackened smithy told that the steel was
smithening steel The smith who swung
the ponderous hammer was man of no
common muscle.
He was young and remarkably hand
some; but there was an evil lurking in
his cold black eyes which would have
repulsed the close observer.
The light Of his forge fire rendered
sghostly the objects in the remote corners
Of the shop; but it fell brightly upon the
Strengthening piece Of steel he was
hammering.
1t resembled the jaws Of some i'm
mense trap, strong enough to holds bear,
and the wonder was that the strength of
man could prepare it for it's prey
If any man in Middletown could con-
troll such trap, it was the man whose
hands were fashioning it.
For q long time David Thrall had
been working Of nights, with his shop
barred to visitors, and the clang-clang
--clang of his hammer had sounded in
the furtherest corner of the growing vii
lage.
He was man ef strong passions, the
first to resent an insult to a friend, and
the last to give. up an argument when
he found logic against him.
No person had bothered him while he
swung the hammer over the terrible
steel trap which he was making.
1t is true that few boys looked in at
the window at the Inauguration of his
work, but his maddening threats against
them had kept the prying urchins away.
III told her that she should never laugh
at my love and live to boast Of it to an
other man" David Thrall said aloud,
one night as he paused to wipe great
drops of perspiration from his brow.
"She laughed then, and told me not
to let anger get the better of me, and
thought I woold forget it. Forget
Nevcrw and the hammer came down
wrathfully upon the glowing steel.
~ am making this trap because you
rejected my love, Agnes Temple. But
it shall not tear your pretty skin. No.,
no! l would not injure one Of your
golden hairs; but I am going to teach
you that there is one in MiddletOwn
whose heart cannot be trifed with"
! Thus he talked to himself, while he
stood over his anvil and swung his ham,
mer, whose every blow told on his hor-
rible mechanism, and hurried it toward
completion. That night he finished it.
He held it in the light Of his cold fire
and pronounced it perfect; smiled upon
it with pride, showed that he had
strength enough to master Its jaws.
'Now, my boys, Wen try it,"
David Thrall put his trap into a sack,
smothered the fire and left the smithy.
He walked rapidly to the outskirts Of
the village, seen by no one, for the night
was dark and the wind high.
It was in the autumn of the year, and
the yellow leaves Of the trees fell around
him in golden showers But he did not
notice them any more than to brush an
occasional one from his long beard, be-
grimmed like his face, with the SCOT Of
his shop.
He did not come to halt until he
reached the iron track that ran over the
road he was travelling.
Middletown had not been honored by
the steam cars, which, as if to taunt the
place, left it a half mile to the west.
David Thrall threw his burden down,
and a sigh Of relief escaped him. Then
he struck a match and looked at his
watch.
'sHe passes about nine," he muttered.
''The passenger goes by at ten, then the
lightning express"
He spoke with fiendishness almost
foreign to the human heart, and sat to
work fastening the strong chain attach