- misgivings as to Ruth's entire accordance with

HASZARITS GAZETTE. AUGIJQT 4-

KARL HLBTIAIN. . A STORY OF THE OIIIEA. _ IN roiin ciui-rue.‘-—ciiAr. i.

I run the liveliest recollection of the 3rd of July 1854 ; more so, perhaps. than of any other day in the calendar of my life, wherein it is emphatically marked with a distinguishing atone—_-,_ colour whereof the radar may guess from-fie tale I have to tell. It was not at all, I mayx iaiae, because the morrow was ‘ Inde- penden e ‘Day,’ that that particular eve of a glorious anniversary dwells so freshly in my memor . So far from that, I am pretty sure- true-blooded American as I am—my mother at at least wa‘-a Boston girl, and I was born there —that on that ‘morning the old stirring watch-

words, ‘ Our heroic forefathers,’ ‘ The saviour .

of his country,’ ‘ Banker's Hill,’ and so on, would have jarrc'd dlsagrceably on my ear, so _ te:ly.aut.of unison would they have een with the heavenly frame of mind in which I awoke from delightful dreams to paradisiacal con- sciousnessof waking bliss.

As I leaped out of icd, the bright young day, cloudless, beautiful,-as my hopes, was tlirust- ing aside the summer night-curtains, and com- ing forth a jocund hridegrooni to embrace his slumbering hride the eai-th, and with his glow- ing kisses awaking her to life and loveliness. It will be easily understood. from this shining siinilitude. what my head was running u on; but the dawn \\':is really a brilliant one,an tho

icturesupie villas and gay gardens of Staten Island, apparelled in its golden light, shone out in their most attractive aspect. Statcii Island. the reader niay or may not lie a\v:ii'e, is ii. kind ofsoiitht-rn suburb ofxcw York, i~:ep.tratcd from its sister islc .\Iaiiliuttan. whercon the empire city sti-ctel.es its huge. i'«-stless, ever-swelling hulk. along about live miles of sheltered sea- Ncw Yolk l£ay—:icross which you may be fer- ried for a few cents in a floatitig stciiin-palace. My Illtlllfl‘, .losl.u:i Henderson. inaster-inarincr, and for many years pro.~pci‘ous ship-owner of New York. Lad. not long before uiy inotheris dc.-itli. piii-elm.-z-cl a plcasaiit dwelling thcrc——- Ilope Cottage. :0 naiucd by himself, where he wn:-' --icry day becoming more and inore a lit- ture. 'l'hc chief and active share in the busi- ness of Ilendcrson 33; Co. had been some time since ee-lcd to his partners: and my father. n_]iil'ifIl\‘-‘I’. was ;_;1'o\ving. with iiicrcat-lug years and sol»sL:iiiee, pi'oportioiial_ily uliary in his Sllllllrlllg \'t‘li'.lll‘i‘B. must of Wlllrll hail latteijly I)L'l ii Ii:l.I‘il"lEl:|II'4I by .\unt .\iartlia. his widowed and Vl’I‘tllllI)' :istcr. It|1'.ll-‘ll. with l~er daughter Iluih. at ‘herborne Villa, within scarcely more: than a stone's-throw of Hope l.‘otlage—and a-‘ bont as sensible and iil.lll‘p a dame as ever trod in shoe-lcatlier. .\s for in noble sell',I had l)(5t.‘ll intended for it prol'ession—iiiy father in- clined to law, my aunt to divinit_v—hntas it was soon abundantly clear, that I should never make it particularli bright ligure in either of. these. that notion was reluctantly given up.: Aunt .\Iartha especially-—slie was the rclict of! Silas (iarslone. wholesale-dealer in dry goods, l Broiidway. and major in the New York Militia l —resented the family disappointment to a most unreasonable degree. I was a failure, she said, I and she hated failures : and as regarded Ruth, l I must rove myself worth my salt, which she I doubtedil ever should do, in some calling or‘ other. before she could bring herself to look up- on inc as her daughter's future husband; a sen- , timent, she savagely added, which Ruth fully ‘, endorsed. To this un-aunt-like estimate of her ; only nephew, I, of course, sturdily demurred.; I reckoned myself up very dilfcrently. I stood five-fcet~eleven in my stockings, enjoyed robust health, and a llow of spirits sullicient, if com- mercially available, to set up a lirst-rate liquor store in Broadway, and was, besides, sole heir to at least 2000 dollars per annum-—Ho (Iot- tage and fixings over the bargain. ‘hat on earth, therefore, could it signify. in a husband- I sense, that I laid not come oil‘ with exactly Iifying-colours at Harvard I.'niversity_. or as yet shown signs ofa gift for preaching! When I was at home, Ruth and I had been for years in- separable companions; and it thus came to pass that I unconsciously, as it were, but in perfect accordance, I apprehend, with a law of nature, very early arrived at a decided conclusion that we were especially created for each other, and that to sunder or mate us with iincongenial souls would be an inexpiuble crime, alike against humanity and Heaven. Certainly I had always

those views ; and upon reachino home on Sun- day forenoon, 2d July, after bidiiing final fare- well to Harvard, I determined to bring the damsel to the test without delay. For this purpose, I seized the opportunity afihrded by the dropping in, soon alter dinner, of one of‘, my fatier’s old cronies, to slip quietly oil‘ to: Sherborne Villa. The reception awaiting me: was a ratifying one. My aunt's manner was} decide ly less grim and gritty than at my last! visit, and Ruth was wonderfully acious—sc-I tually proposed—mamma not ob cting—thatl we should take a long walk together! | To be sure, the afternoon was due and cool ; all the world abroad, and she had not yet‘ lpolbdibhb new dress ecnt her from New York —oousiderstions which, I doubted not, had something to do with the flattering proposal.

“ l

Hbwever that might be. the walk was a very pleasant one, and would have been much more Lso but that Ruth, as usual, lau bed ell every ‘atiein t at serious discourse. S II. I was in 2 high eather when we returned, nndjat down l to tea with dear Danie Garstone. Boon, how- I over, it proved to be sweetly combed down. tall, handsome, military-looking man, forty ' years old or so, charged into the room, and was : received with all the honors. ‘ Mr. Hartmaun’ l —‘ My nephew, Mark Henderson.’ The follow ‘merely glanced at me, in a de ' Eel‘ way, but to _the ladies he was immensely courteous, especially to Ruth. who received his ,coinmon- lace com liments with evident grati- [ficstion ut whet ier only to torment me, i was soon too hot and angr to determine clear- _ I stood it pretty wol for about half an ‘hour, and then went oil‘ with a bounce, and l was so little cooled when I entered the parlour ;of Hope Cottage, a quarter of an hour or so afterwards—I had_ taken one or two restless ' turns about the neighbourhood before going in .—as to exclaiiu in a key absurdly loud, except 1 as afihrding some slight relief to the irritation which was chokin gipsy E Certainly ii a girl that ever plagued and I tihlc ingcnuous man 3’

hr

0-!

._ ‘.<

My father was sitting at an open window,1

intently scrutinizing through his telescope a large vcssel entering the bay from the Narrows. As his dealiicss had greatly incrcziscd upon hiiu oflate, I did not suppose, vehemently as I expressed myself, that he could have heard me. [was mistaken: he laid caught ii portion, at

all 1-‘vents, of my words and meaning : for iin- l

mcdizitcly turning from the window, and eye- ing me with a grimly smiling expression as be seated himself. and in his slow deliberate way rclillcd his pipe and grog-glass. he said : ‘ You have seen the saucy gipsy, thcn 7’

‘ (.‘ont'ound her !——ycs,’ I growled: but as he did not hear me, I nodded aliirniution.

* 'l‘hat’s well,’ he replied, adding in his usual scaslang dialect: ‘ She's a handsome craft, Mark. no doubt, buta little cranky, I fear, and wants iaorc ballast to bring her down to her proper bearings.‘

* And a skilful captain too,’ I bawled, falling in with his humour.

‘ That is right, lad ; and then. I reckon, slic‘ll behave very prettilj.‘

‘ l)ouhtl'ul.' thought I, as I helped myself to a cigar and ii tumbler of rum and w:i.tcr. \Vliencver thoroughly ryled, I am always thirs-

3'-

*'I‘Iiey'vc bodizened her out with a deal of tinery,’ resumed the ancient mariner.

‘ 'I‘hat’s New York fashion.’ I shouted at the top of my voice. ‘ She must not be out of the fashion, you know.’

* {gay on‘t pcreani sg, plarkz a stranger wou suppose, was as ea as a ‘lost. As to New York fashions, the Boston folli aint much behind in expensive fal-the-ral.’ Here the dialogue was suspended, I being in.no mood for talk, and the governor hardly reputed to translatein words the astounding intelligence which I, much wondering what on earth was coming, saw gradually pierce through and illuininc his weather-beaten hiz.

‘ Mark!’ said he at last, when the aurora had reached its fullest intensit —‘ Mark!’

I did mark, and silently intimated as much.

* I have great news for you. Mark,‘ he went on to say. ‘ You’ rein wonderfuljluck, my lad, that’s a fact. and so you’ll say ourselt' pre- sentl _. Your aunt, who is, you Iinovv, princi- pally interested, was dead against you all along. and required a mortal deal of persuading. “ Ilere, ’ I kept a saying whenever I had a chance—“ here s Mark coming home from col- lege with, they say, no gift of ten use what- ever, and until, consequently, for cit er law or

ospel. The question is, tien. how to settle

im in the world, and what he's lit for?" I shu.n’t vex you, Mark,‘ continued my father. ‘by repeating the answer I got, particularly as your aunt veered round allofa sudden—the very day, I mind that fellow Hartniann or Sluirlmann came over to Staten Island; and the Ion and short of it is. that we've agreed, you

sha I be set going in life at once, with an al- b

lowance to start with of sixty dollars a month, —-in considera.tion,’_added the ve‘eran with ex- ultant glee, ‘that you consent to take legal charge of the craft you were talking of——- Ilallo ! I say—-what now Y’

l\Iy arms were clas ed in a trice round the astounded ship-owner ii neck, arresting further speech by a grasp, which he only got rid of by an exertion of strengh that sent me reeling,

till brought up by a sofa, on which I sat down I

involuntarily.

‘ Plague take the boy!’ growled my father, hitching his discomposed vestments to other, and eyeing me with angry surprise—‘ as he taken leave of his senses?’ Confused, dizzy, overwhelmed, I could only gasp out it jumble of excuses, blessings, thanks, which he could not have heard, at seemed nevertheless to coin rehend dimly.

“ ell, well,’ be interrupted ; ‘ enough said, enough said, Mark. It is a good thing, no doubt, to be set a handsomely in life at our ago. Still, tberes for and a inst; an . in fact, it's a veaturcocmo-rlak or all parties.‘

‘Wm: that he turned to thoflnddw and his

haul eiibo:sort'

me : ‘Confound that saucy ‘ ie most distracting riddle of, puzzled suscep-

l

telesco , and I rushedd into the fintdfisllbri shout, eap,kery—-anhear , unseen. wa

bo on now. _

u Thd {tars were lookin forth when, still very nervous and excited, I necked at my aunt ii The mulatto help, in reply podmty In-

‘, for her ountr IlIIEII'CS.B pom E 0 En iiiiiei apartmeng, wliiere. tindirig Ruth alone,l throw myself at her feet, and poured forth a torrent of wild, wordy rhapsody. I0 WI‘I°h “I” hearkened like one in a dream. l_’resently re- covering from the shock and surprise of such a salutation, she forcibly _disengpiged her‘ iliresz from my grasp. and anwrily cxq ‘-Hfned - 1"’ Ilend_ersou you have been drinkins v 3°“ ‘"0 positiv_ely_tipsy, sir

‘Drin ing! yes: which’—— _ _ .

- Absurd 3’ interrupted Ruth with ipcreusing displeasure. ‘ Pray have done witi _suloh senseless rhodoinontadc, and _tcll me quiet y, soberly, if you cant,’ what it is my uncle I103 been saying to you . _

Idid so as nu-‘arly as I could. in my f:itli0‘|"S own words. he 0\'PTHO\\'lllg was Ruto har- stone's niirthlul gaiety oi heart, that I saw she had the greatest dillicultv as I proceeded i0 repress a burst of girlish mcrr_iinent. I_lut.my evalent sincerity. the lcrvour cl 1! true atlcctioih wliicli.mut-:t liav_c been _appai‘cnt tliroiigli :1 the high-llown lustian in_ which it was ex- pressed, touched the dear girl's better nuturi.— a shade, so to Elltllli, ol' kindliness and sym- pathv ;;.‘.lll0l‘L‘tl over her .hca:a_ing face; and “.;,,,5 1 pad .-Um-ludcul, she said gently: ‘I per-lectly lIllLl:,'l‘Si:llltl, .\l:irk; we will speak further upon the siibjeet to-inoi-i'o_\v; you are too excited now: and bark! that is inamma s step. I would not have you see her at this moment

D- O 0 II

I? I joy from golden goblet!’

ly, seeing that I hesitated. * do come, lctinc be: of \,'iill. and at once.’

‘1'l-.ei'cadcr is now in possession of the why and ivhei-eforc of the l)li.~'sl'uls tate of being, in

which I aivoltc l'ro‘.u sol": t~'llIllll>Cl‘S on the lid of

Julv, I55»-I , though why I got up so very early, I ciiuiiot precisely say. .-\wl'nlly slow, I re- niembcr, the time seemed to pass till eight o'clock striiek, the hour at which, I knew, my Aunt. ‘.lnrtha and lluth were expected. \l'licn

'I enti.-i'cd the l:i'e.ikl'ast-i'ooiii, my lntlier was

l l . I

1

there alone, and a little sourish-tciupcred.

‘ ll‘ sister and her gal don't come soon, I sban't wait,‘ he grumbled. * [suppose they're staying to get lircakliist for that stranger tin-y’i‘e so sweet. upon. And, by the by, Mark, that t‘rcc-at’:d-c;isy—going chap is bound on the same pleasant vy’ge as yourself."

‘ The deuce ! Surely he's not going to marry .\unt Ma.rtli:i !'

‘ What‘s that!’ said my father forming his left hand into an ear-triini ct.

I repeated what I had said in a louder key.

~ Marry your Aunt Martha ! Who was talk- ing about marryingiiunts or uncIcs'—

lie was stopped by the entrance of the dome herself. I _ium ed up a of a tremble, shook hands with her, and then gazed stupidly at tho reclosed door. _

'I‘lie good lady looked at me in a queer quiz-

blank aspect: ‘ Ruth wouldn’t come: have it, there is some strange mista e

for the world. This way, tll1'f)llgIl'IIl0 : .,gardcn. My dour .\l:irk.’ she added, c:iressing- ‘

llhai we may thoroughly understand each other,

zical sort of way, as she said, in answer to my 3 in

she will so, he

sin between us. ‘ A;Ruth sa s, a stran gist: c has been made by somebod .’ so ‘ What did I tell him, sister'.'—why, this: that our new cli per-brig’ the Saucy Gips , loaded with sort sundries for Constantinop e and elsewhere, was to bo_. laced under his legal charge as supsi-cargo. WI li'—— , ' Enough! more than enough! A sensation : akin to sea-sickness came over me_ : and it was only by a great effort, that I-retained siiflcient strength to leave the room, stagger lip stain, and throw myself, in bitter anguish, upon the ‘ bed, from which so short is time before I had ‘ risen in such elation of mind. I Two or three bitter hours brought healing ion their wings, suggesting as they did that, luftcr all, I had no right to rave in that mad ;_ way of cruel fate and unpropitious stars! The air-drawn prospect, existing on] in in own : imagination, had vanislied—that was all, leav- i ing me. so far as Ruth was concerned, in the I same position as before; whilst Aunt Martha's opinion of my discretion and ability must have ‘,greatly improved, since she had consented to -‘invest me with so important a charge as the one proposed. These and similar cogitations ‘were interrupted by a to at the door. and ~ (Jan I come in now, Mark? sharply demanded .by l)Illll’.; Garsloiie herself. She was instantly -yatlnutted ; and I was glad to see that, in place of the iiiocking quizzjcal look, as I interpreted it, : lier countenance wore an expression of kindliiiess I and lieiiigiiiiy. ' I shall not let Ruth know,’ she ; be;_v-aii, ‘ how or-‘zily you behaved this morning : i‘-she is quite vain enough already. But I may tell you, that it has much inclliicii me to believe you capahl-ol' -that you do, in fact, love your ,cunsin with fl §lll(‘.:,‘l'B and lzisling all‘.-ction.' I ‘ Ah, my Alt:-.ir aunt. it I might only express to you how ier\'enlly"——— ‘ Nu, d n’t Mtirk,’ she hastily inierrupied : -I would mucli rather not. ccl increased eonlident‘e,I was about to say, lliall shall not :llll\'t‘ reason in re-_:r-ii placing you in ClI.'l|‘l]8 of the large \'t‘.llllll‘t: cmbarltcd in the Stiury Gipsy-— j you in.i_\' at-‘l blush and wince at that ridiculous " blundcr—unlcss lliis. her Ilfal vo_v:ir_vi', should he i permanently associated in our minds with calam- S itous iidiu-,:s, asl much fear may he the case.’ l ' \Vhat the deuce is coining now?’ thought I, ins my aunt paused, in some cmbarrtissiiicnt, it : Sllt‘.lIiQ’lI. ‘ ‘ I cannot _I_'l\'t.‘. you,’ she resumed. ‘ a stronger proofihai l ilrcidy look upon you as my aon—- pray, sit sIi|l~tli.-in by placing that confidence in iyou wliichl deem it prudent to withheld from mi own brother. I have never, indeed, doubted your in:iii.incss and courage, Mark, and that l conviction first suggzested to me that you would not be an unlit person to take care that Karl Harimann--whom you saw yesterday at my , house, and who is to sail with you in the Saucy l Gipsy—(loes not play me and others false.’ am to he a kind of supercargo, then, to Mr. , Karl Hnrtmann, am . ’ l '>‘mnething. as you say, of that kind.

But

Imus! begin atthe beginning. You are aware, Mark, that your father and I arrived in America from Ecglaiid now about five-and-ihiriy years ago, he being then in his twenty-sixth, I in my fifteenth year. Joshua had long made up his ind to emigrate. but I should hardly have done d my home continued to be what it -once Our father kept a shop in the small town

W38.

‘ What's all that about?‘ demanded my fa- where we were both» Ind Where our mother died,

thcr. impatient for his coffee.

‘ I was telling Mark,’ said his sister, seating herself, and placing her lips close to his ear, ‘ that Ruth wouldn’t come.’

‘Then let Ruth stay awa ,’ was the gruli response. ‘ You, and I, an Mark can settle the business we are u ion without her, I hope.’

‘ Without Ruth!’ I exclaimed, a hot quslm flushing through me. ‘ That would indeed be, as they say, the play of Hamlet with the part of the Prince left out.‘

‘ Don‘t talk of plays!’ interrupted Aunt Garstone, with a nervous shudder, and still fixing me with that odd, quizzical look : ‘ they've crazed the wits of wiser folk than you, my poor boy. Why, what ails the lad?’ she continued in a much louder tone. ‘ It can’t surely be true, Joshua Ilenderson, that you've een telling him, we've agreed that he's to marry my ltuth 1’

Joshua Ilendorson looked as if apprehensive that his deafness had assumed a new and more disastrous phase——that of totally pervert- ing the sound and sense of words addressed to him, and Aunt hlartha iterated her query twice or thrice before he replied to it.

‘ I tell Mark,’ he at length said, ‘ that he was to marry thy Ruth I I‘ooh I I don't believe mentioned the girls name 7‘ This was too

much. ‘What!’ I fairly screamed,

soon alter the birth of her youngest child. myself. l Matters went on pretty much as usual, till about my ninth year. when our father gradually yielded himselfup Iu dissipated, or, perhaps, I should say desultory, idle habits. delighting especially in theatrical entertainments, so that whenever a troop of players entered the town, we were sure to have two or three oiihem living at rack and manner with us. he upshot was-—hut we are none of us our own lteepers—thai my father married an actress. of no great skill in her pro- fession, I understood, but young, showy, and of lcounie anl‘u|—-successfully assuming to be the essence of her craft. This is, I know, according to you, mere uureasoning prejudice; but let that pass. Fiom that time, my father's house was no longer ii home to me, and I soon decided upon accepting the repeated invitation of my uncle l’hilipps,lo come over to Boston. and take up my abode in his childless home. It was well,’ ; continued Aunt Martha in a subdued tone, ‘ that my brother was free to come away at the tiuia 5. he did, for there was fast strengthening in link of I love binding me to that unhappy household which

a few more rears would have rendered indis- -solublc. God, as we all know, sends his rain l alike_upon the just and the unjust, and his choicest

creations are scattered with the some all-emhrp

ciug liountcousiiess. One of the loveliest human ,tlo\\-ere that ever blossomed upon earth sprang

‘you did not, from that else uni-lest union. Viola, the child

assure me, yestcr-evening, that my aunt, after I was named after some character in 3 play, and, much persuasion. had agreed that the best l)lllt'I' grief in me, her mother, with my weak thing to be done was for iae to marry Ruth at‘ l'aiher’s concurrence, began, from the first hour, once—take legal charge of her, were your,ihe pure, intelligent child was capable of receiv- words—and that we were to have an allowance, l in instruction, to train and educate her for the