|

neat.

a

iil

HMHM) HM|H MH M

i Wedn'sd’y 5 256 34/A7 41; 11 44, 13 9

2 Thursday | 27 32 7 56,MO 14, 5

3Friday | 2@ 30) 812) 0 45 2

4 Saturday 29 25, 8 22, 1 91) 12 59

SSunday | 30 26 852) 2 7) 56

6Monday | 32, 24) 916; 2 41; 52

7iTuesday | 33, 22; 949 3 40) 49

8 Wedn'sd’y| 34 20 1029 4 53 46

9Tharsday | 36 18) 1121; 616) 42

10 Friday $7; 17) 11 89} 7 3) 40 lijSaturday | 38; 15 Ml 30 8 29) 37 igiSanday | 39] 13) 243) 914 34 13 Monday 41; 11] 3 és} 9 &3 30 4 Tuesday | 42! 9, 5 19) 10 31 27 15 Weda'sd’y; 43 7 Oat hi OO 24 14 Thursday | 44 5 7 48 11 40 a} 17 Friday 44 3 910A 38 17 18 Saturday 47 1 1035) 0 58 14 19 Sunday 48,5 59, 11 59; 1 46 11 2) Monday 50} S7;A 235) 2 42 7 21 Tuesday 51; 55: 239| 3 57 + 22, Wedn'sd'y| 52} 358: 3 37) 5 32 0 23,\Thursday | 53, 51; 422° 7 © 11 59 24 Fridsy 54) 49, 4651) 8 8&8 55 25 Saturday 55} 47| &6 13) 8 5&6 52 26Sunday | 56 45) 533 9 36 49 27 Monday 58} 43, 5 49; 10 12 45 Gs Tuesday 6 0 41) 6 4 11 43 41 29 Wedn'sd’y 1, 40. 6 16 11.11 39 38 | 11 36

PHeudttl ’

VOL. XXVI.

Che Examiner

[s Printed and Pblished every Monday Forenoon, BY William LL. Cotton,

OFFICE: Corner Queen and King Streets.

rERMS—Per Annum, Postage prepaid by Pabiisher, $1.40 in advance; $1.62 if paid within the year; $2.00 if not paid within the year, CLUB RATES :

fur Examiner will be forwarded to Clubs at the folowing rates per year— sayment strictly in advance :—

> eoples, one address, - - - - - $ 6.00 10 6 ss “ ne we 10.00 < «© “ a a le ee 14.00 a (« ‘ ree, aa 18.00 Clubs may be made up at any time, but

not for a shorter period than a year,

@e c =a = te SxrV8o crew “1 a ~ = — * yerrsecesesoscsoesesd | & senses ~ revere e we ae oi 8 B&ES3 2ia ei” ~ > = ; ; ea aeis a 4| Spee szetdsqoesess> oO: i Baza. cal fae SS SS ee "i e| | Ss aio = - o884)> SAS =wGte en a BAILS oi a a ed ‘ . on am Set Sn - Ws 55/5 sles ek Ss 0 |= . — © Sie | > Sioe ~ ~~) Se sie el<qf a ae oe: 3 = | me me me “a Sen SESS ensaeene | oO a FE 2SLSSeSseSelSeoeooeovyi sim | Si e@ewe Cole -oVeol So ‘ .- Om Blume ~m ee ee! Ce FSM RKSSNRASESK ih =o S | St 0 0S me DS Ww 89 DH Sr oo OOS z . & & — “3 & 8 © =3 St ts OS =3 Cr Ce Ff - 5 ws | et oe oe . Ye gen SF ELF e86 Sassen ae Se S=lOntr wont oot oe BISUSSeSaeScud SSS} = 2° Preteens 7 — ee te a eS SRK Saree | Sy c= “Si SeBIe Oats ewes | 8). “~ wee | SS MO SIS 8 SIM SO OS St OF | Py = c- —— nt te an Ge ce = aa SCNAMSe SHA | ss Algea2weae See! I ae 424i 2S... = si Sk&e-——-— =! 2 2 =a | woe St ce C SS te j S Sl Rosie mic toh anis| 5/ O Se S SeROSCRBSSHUGOonwuans =) 72 es a | sa a ASK Sree SHS ” ~ wit. 82 cae, | . : ; Qo — vt i i = > = Om & e oe - aes — |i its -— mi o “ @ o LAWNS CAa SK SDS vo of ple SeeSanreewens| §} 99 @e(|SeQveanraowacg, * SS Zliaaneeogrir— one SO FintwneDaecsnvacn| & Se em lo SRO OB eeom er | & eRe BSB So @hReONTaSSeSs' B!

ALMANAC FOR SEP'T. 1875,

MOON'S CHANGES. First Quarter, 7th day, 5h. 25m. p. m., South. Full Moon, 15th day, Sh. 29., N. W., below horizon. Third Quarter, 22nd day, 2h. 48m.a. mn., S.E. New Moon, 29th day, 8h. 43m., a. m., N. E.

ncn |pay’s water pen'th

| Moon sets

; D. | sUn 4“ PAY werk °*

rise | sets,

#0) Thareday | 25 BUSINESS CARDS, WILLIAM DODD,

Commission Merchant and AUCTIONEER QUEEN SQUARE, CHARLOTTETOWN, P. E. ISLAND.

CARVELL BROS., AUCTIONEERS.

Commission Merchants,

AND GENERAL AGENTS. Lower Queen §. Charlottetown, P. E. I.

F. M. CAMPBELL.

General Merchant COM™MISSION AGENT,

AUCTIONEER 4 BROKER TRINITY CORNER, GEORGETOWN, P. b. 1.

AGENT FOR THE

Mandard Life Insurance Co. Sept. 1, 1873. ly

-

HASZARD BROS.,

Commission Merchants & Anctioneers, FORWARDING, MANUFACTURERS,

AND General Agents, 61 WATER STREET, Opposite Merchants Bank, P. E- 1.

Charlottetown, - - - -

J. BE. Haszarp, | Horace Haszarp. me: 0 i REFERENCES:

Messrs. Greenshields, Son & Co., Montreal,

Messrs. W. & R. Brodie, Quebec,

Messrs. J. 3. Farlow & Co., Boston,

Henry Lawson, Esq., Halifax, N. 8.

lon. Daniel Davies, Charlottetown, P. E. I. May 3, 1875.

HERMANS & SON,

del-Hangers, Gun and Tin-swiths,

QUEEN STREET, VPPOSITE WATSON’ S DRUG STORE,

B® to return their thanks to the general

public for the liberal patronage extend- to them since their commencement in ‘Usiness, and ask for a coutinuance of the “ue. They keep constantly on hand :—

A NEAT ASSORTMENT OF

TIHWARE, KITCHEN UTENSILS ke de, de, Mlorders in the above business will be

Niet punctually attended to. ng lately made large purchases in the Cheapest Markets, intended for House Builders, such as

tas Fitting, Water Closets, Bell Fitting, &e., &e.,

“are prepared to sell them at Rates as

— can be had in the city, and will fit 4 UP in a good workmanlike style.

a 2 Benerous public we would say, that

be orders in this branch of our business will

to with des h. on lot of First-class WATER COOLERS

ed

fad cea tor BOryatal Bine

J} C0 §£ |

CHARLOTTETOWN, PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND

INSURANCE. MARINE

INSURANCE COMPANY

PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND.

BOARD OF DIRECTORS:

Rosert Lonaworru, Esq.."President, Hlon. Jas. DuncAN, lion. L. C. OWEN, Iion. A. A. McBonatp, lion. J. C- Porr, Tuomas HaNDRAHAN, Esq., GrorGE R. Brrr, Esq. Risks taken daily at their office, corner Great George and Lower Water Streets. F. W. HALES, Secrretay. Ch’town, March 22, 1875—ly

ST. LAWRENCE Marine Insurance Co.

PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND.

Authorized Capital, - - $300,000, Subscribed Capital, - - 143,950.

BOARD OF DIRECTORS:

ARCHIBALD KENNEDY, President. Joun F. ROBERTSON,

ARTEMAS LorD,

P. W. HynpMAN,

Ratru B. Peake,

Tuomas MoRRIS,

GrorGE D. LONGWorRTH.

Risks taken daily at their office, Exchange Building. FREDERICK W. HYNDMAN, Ch’town, March 22, 1875.—ly Secretary.

FINE INSURANCE !

IMPERIAL Fire Lusurance Company

OF LONDON,

Subscribed & Invested Capital, £1,965,000 Ste.

—————— oe

PHENIX

INSURANCE COMPANY,

OF BROOKLYN, N.Y.

Cash Asses, - - - $2,015,383.84.

The above Offices being of UNDOUBT- ED STANDING, guarantee perfect security and Prompt Payment of Losses,

DETACHED DWELLINGS insured for One, Two, or Three Years on SPE- CIALLY ADVANTAGEOUS TERMS.

FENTON T. NEWBERY,

AGENT.

Jan. 18, 1874. ly

THE LIVERPOOL & LONDON AND CLOBE

INSURANCE COMPANY

FIRE AND LIFE.

Invested Funds, Ist Jan’y., 1874, $21,628,356 Deposited with Receiver Gener-

al of Canada, 162,800 Other Investments in Dominion of Canada, 867,091

— ————

FAIR RATES. Prompt & Liberal Settlements.

Insurance against Fire effected upon Pri- vate Residences, Household FurnitureSand Farm Properties, for

One, Three or more years, At Reduced Rates,

Office—Great George Street, Charlotte town, P. E. I. R. R. FITZGERALD, Agent Ch’town, July 27, 1874.—6m

SEASIDE HOTEL.

Formerly ‘Ocean House.”

Rustico Beach, P. E. I.,

Having been bought and thoroughly refitted and refurnished

In First-class Style !

BY THE SUBSCRIBERS, WILL BE

RE-OPENED FOR THE SEASON,

FROM

1ST JUNE TILL 1ST OF OCTOBER NEXT.

Every Attention Given to Guests!

TERMS MODERATE.

As a summer resort the ‘‘ Sea-side,” is unrivalled.

A Salubrious and Bracing Atmosphere.

Excellent Surf Bathing !

——

A Magnificent View of the Bay and Ocean,

Best Fishing Grounds on North Shore, with boats for fishing and plea- sure constantly on hand.

__——

Coaches connect with every Train to and from Charlottetown and Sum- merside, at the Hunter River Station, as below:

Present Time Tas. — Trains leave Charlottetown at 630 a. m., and 2 p.m Returning leave Hunter River at 7.55 a. m., and 8.25 p. m. Leaves Summerside at 6 a. m., and 6 and 6.30 p.m. Returning leave Hunter River at 7.55 a. m., and 3.40

.» mm. . Any change in Time will be duly ad-

ertised. ve JOHN NEWSON,

W. A. HUTCHESON, May 17, 1875.

6 At Egmont Bay.”

HE Subscriber is prepared to take con- T contracts for any quantity, or act as agent for parties in want of the following :

CEDAR OR JUNIPER FENCE

POSTS, PAILINGS, SILLS, ASH AND SOFTWOOD,, STAVES, HOOPs, &e., &e., &e.

Now; the§time mee U. C. TRUDELLE

——

THE Exa

>

| POETRY.

DINNER LOIN LNA BLP LOLA A

| G ql A D D A r é.

NON

{ Written for The £xa nner.)

The sunshine sits on the emerald hills, With a pleasant, smiling face ;

Its golden fiogers are beexoning me. To come rear its shining place.

And all along by the feet of the hills, Where the lithe young alder dips,

The brooks are singing; 1 hear them call Where the mosses wet their lips.

They sing aad dance, and they smile to the sky, Through the parted boughs o’erhead, a

Aud catch, in play, at the long, swinging vines, That the banks above them shed. —

They kiss the hands of the quivering vines, Andessay to bear them on

To where the ripples are rolling in waves, Where they learn a grander song.

They toss the spray in the floweret’: face, And away they run in glee; They'll laugh and smile, and they'll dance in the sun, Till they meet the lonesome sea.

The fiowers bright, on the shadowy floor Of the forest lone and grand, Are wreathed and twined, with the wonderful skill Of a good aad loving hand.

They are calliog me to partake of their wealth— To be rich with scented bloom ;

To come and bathe in the calm of the woods ; With the soul to drink perfume.

i hear that singer high up in the bough— I have heard him there before ;

Is a new one, o’er and o'er.

And now he pealeth it gaily and high Then he warbles, low and sweet:

Now turns and wreathes it about, in his song, And tosses at our feet "

A garland bright, which he gleaned from the air-- From the waving fields of sound— That grow and ripen, unheard by us all, And by these small singers found.

For there's music ringing along the air, To our dull ears all unknown :

A bird skims by, and his exquisite ear Takes the gold of every tune.

Perhaps he lived in that far away land, From the colder world apart, — That new sweet note be hath twined with his | song, And it ripened iu his heart.

I know the sounds that he sings, and the words— | I can almost grasp them, too—

They come so near, that a gossamer vei! But divides the distance through.

And all above is the sky with its bliuc Is the sky that shines so fair;

From overhead to its bordering green It is filled with a glad ning air.

From where the green woods are bor To its dome of deeper blue,

It looks as if it were spread to-day— It doth shine so bright and anew.

ering it,

Such days as these make us glad that we live— Make us bless the Giver good For sky and earth, for the birds aud the brooks, For the flower-scented wood. CHRISTINA. September 1, 1875.

LITERATURE. MARCUS WARLAND ; OR, THE LONG MOSS SPRING. CHAPTER ILI.—Continued.

One evening, they were sitting under a little stoup in front of the cabin, at that twilight hour when the labours of the day are over, but the exercises of the evening | not yet commenced,—-that hour of sweet tranquility and rest. The river rolled be. fore them, reflecting in its sparkling waters the gorgeous tints of departing days ; the crimson shading off into a deepening orange melting into flakes of glittering silver. Laz- ily the old ferry-boat lay against the bank, the long poles thrown across the wet planks and a red handkerchief of Milly’s fastened to the lantern-post, fluttering like a banner in the breeze. It was a device of Marcus, who had been giving a pleasure-trip to Milly and Katy, who had converted the red _tur- ban of the former into a flag of triumph.

Marcus looked at his father, and exulted to see that the vacant and haggard aspect of inebriation had given place to a calm and intelligent expression. His complexion was clear of that purple hue with which the god of the grape marks the face uf his vo- taries. He was dressed with neatness and respectability, for Milly always took great care of her master’s person; and one of her greatest sorrows, during his fits of in, toxication, was the personal neglect they induced. The soiled linen, the unshaven beard, and matted locks were sore afflic- tions to her pride, for she said, ‘Jf a man was born a gentleman, and likely-looking besides, it was a crying sin to make himself into a live brute.’

A gentleman was seen winding through the path that skirted the river’s edge. He was mounted on horseback, and rode leisur- ly along, looking earnestly on the family

trio. ‘It is Mr. Bellamy!’ exclaimed Marcus,

leaping from the steps to the ground, Katy flew after him, and Warland, walking with slow steps, went forward to greet the friend who thus proved himself true to his pro- mise. Had he beentrue? This self-inter- rogation brought a blush of shame to his cheek, as he felt the cordial grasp of Mr. Bellamy’s hand, but he did not shrink from his kindly-beaming glance, for he resolved to tell him of his shameful lapse, even at the risk of forfeiting all his good-will. Mr. Bellamy seemed gratified at his reception and at the appearance of family comfort that met his eye. He pressed the hand of Marcus with parental kindness, and taking the smiling, blushing Katy in his arms, bore her in triumph to the cabin. Milly came to the door of the kitchen, dropping lowand emphatic curtsies, and Uncle Si- mon hobbled out to take care of his horse.

‘ Well, my friend,’ said he sitting down on the wooden bench in the stoup, ‘ the world seems to have gone better with you since I saw you last. Iam glad my little friends here have not forgotten me, for I have often thought of them.’

‘Forgotten ” repeated Marcus; ‘how could we forget friends so kind as you and Mr, Bellamy, ?’

‘Why didn’t she come too?’ whispered Katy.

‘She could not leaye home just now ; but you shall see her one of these days. She put some presents in my valise for you and Marcus, which I will show you present-

, Wnty was burning with impatience to know what the rich and beautiful Jady had sent her, but Marcus, gratefully to be re- membered in any way, scarcely cared to know in what manner. sent to him by her hand would be cherish- ed asa sacred relic; still, when Mr. Bell- amy opened his valise and displayed the elegant books his wife deposited there for Marcus, and the nice frocks for Kitty, he felt a glow of gratitude and delight words would have vainly endeavoured to express. A dress for Aunt Milly and a gorgeous handkerchief for her head were hailed with

j evencuee |

Egmont Bay, Dec. 21, 1876

*

*

But clear and bright, ’mong the rest of his notes, | _

i

him.’ | ‘You judge to hardly of yourself, I am | encouraged and strengthened in ali my | ‘

will be dismissed in

A withered leaf

POSTAG

‘ K

"REPAID.

MINER.

ee. eee After supper, at which lly ff | with more than her usuil aristocracy, for | she had a splendid dish of fis to set before | him, beside fied eggs and bxcon, when the

pipes were livbted and the biue smoke be-

vurished

gan to give an Indian summer atmosphere

to the cabin, Mr. Bellamy reverted to the |

| ‘ . . | conversation he had had six months before,

j ° - and asked Warland if he remembered it, | Marcus, believing that his father would pre- fer the absence of the children, took Katy’s hand, who still hugged her presents to her bosom, and carrying his books in his arms,

the wonder and enraptured eyes of Milly and Simon. Warland did not deceive Mr. | Bellamy; he related the scene so disgraC>

which has already been recorded, and the thought changed he believed wrought with in himself in consequence of his boy’s con- duct.

‘Yes, Mr, Bellamy, you see before youa | a fallen man, utterly unworthy of your con-

| fidence , received that night, so terrible the revul- |

still so dreadful was the shock |! |

a oe

| sion of my feelings, I lave since loathed the |

very thoughts of drink ; 1 think I could see , fe |

| it without being tempted, but I may be de- |

I do not ask any favor for myself | r

| ceived.

| I ought not to receive any—but for my | children. Sir, anything you could do for | | them would be a blessing worthy of eternal } gratitude.

My boy is a noble child, he

| was born for something better than the |

j ° t , | miserable destiny to which I have doomed

hopes with regard to you. sincerely repented of, is less than | dared to expect. No, no, Warland, I am not go-

One lapse, £0

| ing to give you up so readily ; your couns | tenance is the seal of your reformation. |

never saw & man improved so much in six

| months; I scarcely recognised you. Lam not afraid to trust you.

fam more afraid | that you will reject the situation I am about | to offer, as beneath your merits and ambi- tion.’

Warland turned an inquiring glance upon his friend—‘ There is no situation that you would offer me that I should consider too low for acceptance, if it brought my chil- dren within the pale of civilized life.’

‘T have a large plantation,’ said Mr. Bel- lamy, ‘and a great number of negroes, that require superintendence in their labour. I have always found it difficult to obtain an overseer qualified for the office—one who can combine the suaviter in modo with the The one whom I now employ a short time. Will you supply his place? You can bring your talents and education to bear upon the of. fice ; for the slaves do homage to mind, and know, as if by intution, the man whom knowledge has enlightened and polished, from the unlettered poor. You shall have a salary sufficient for the support of your family. Mareus lintend to send immedi- ately to school ; and my wife, who has been entreating me to adopt a little girl, will take little Katy under her own immediate charge. I wish I could offer you a situation more congenial ; but I think it better than the one you now occupy. It is rather as an assistant overseer 1 want to engage you, for I devote a great deal of my own time to superintending my plantation, and watch- ing over the interests of my slaves.’

Sortier in re.

‘Most gladly, most gratefully would | ac cept the position,’ replied Warland, deeply sensible of the } ‘ndness of his new friend, ‘could I believe myself qualified for its duties: but ought I, who have so lately manifested such a melancholy instance of the want of self.government, to assume the | control of others ?. Ought I to take advan, tage of your benevolence, and perhaps ex- pose you to disappointment and loss

‘I am willing to expose myself to all the risk ; but you must not give me more credit than is due, Mrs, Bellamy has been a quickening spirit to me, and planned the

whole, leaving me nothing but a willing co- operation in her designs. Your boy has perfectly bewitched her. him as a, young eaglet, whose yet unfledged

She looks upon wings will one day bear him to a sunbright eyrie. 1 think myself he was born for diss tinction and that he will attain it, Will you lay the first stepping-stone for him?’ |

‘I cannot refuse. 1 will do ali Lean to dezerve your confidence. The time has been when such an offer would have been considered by me an unpardonable insult; now, I feel ennobled by it. Let me call my son, and communicate to him his brighten- ing prospects.’

Marcus, while he felt the most intense | gratitude to Mr, Bellamy, could not help | shrinking from the idea of his father’s bes coming an overseer, He had been think- ing so long of seeing him reinstated in his former standing in society as a gentleman and a scholar, that any position short of that seemed inferior to his merits, and below his ambition. Mr. Bellamy read all this in the boy’s expressive countenance, and he liked him better for his noble pride.

¢ Your father will be my friend, my boy,’ said he. ‘I mean he shall dignify his of- fice, and raise it toa higher stand than it usually occupies; and I consider it only a preparatory step to his future advancement.

9

went to the kitchen, where he exhibited | the beautiful engravings they contained to

ful to himself, so honorable to his son, | |

i known by the name of Hickory Hill. It | was also called Bellamy Place by those fa-

| the pine woods that girdled the boundaries

| long row of neat, white, cabins, individual-

| widowhood and desolation: no cry of ma-

| eflected, its deepest reproach wiped away.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1875. .

a ,

‘Katy will be a lady, and ride a fine carriage,’ said Milly, turning her round and | ; |

round, and smoothing down the folds of |

her short, redundant skirt: ‘-he no wear

liomespun no more; she live among the} quality folks,’

‘Katy will be a good girl,’ said Mareus, | putting his arms round the beautiful child; ‘and she will love the dear lady who is so}

good

tousall. She vain, nor | proud, becanse she may wear a finer dress,

for that would spoil all her sweetness,’

will not be

‘ Jist hear him,’ said Milly,giving Simon a punch in his side; ‘he allos sets everybody right, and make ’em fecl’shamed. He was born for « preacher.’

Simon answered not, for his heart was full. The thought of being parted from his friend filled him with unuttered sorrow; and when dark, wrinkled cheeks irrigated with tears, sym- pathizing drops filled their before glad eyes. Aunt Milly began to rock, like a storm- blown tree.

‘She’d never thought about it What would they do without Simon, and what

the children saw his

would Simon do without them? Poor ole

Simin! Poor ole Milly !’

This was really a dark cloud to their new-born happiness. They all loved the old soldier, as they called him, and mourn- ed to think they must leave him behind.

Milly promised to write to him by proxy; Marcus to come and see him as soon as pos: | sible; and Katy never to leave him at all, Stil poor Simon sat with his head bowed on his hands, his breast heaving with stifled sobs. Hespoke not, for his grief was very great.’

CHAPTER iV.

No fairer richer picture of southern life could be drawn than from the plantation of Mr. Bellamy. Far as the eye could reach, his magnificent cotton and corn-fields

| every human heort, and to make even the

of forty or fifty yards out in

rans PerE rE A THRILLING AFFAIR,

Last Saturday, about sundown, four miles east of this place, on Biloxi Bay, occurred a scene calculated to send a thrill through

boldest tremble. Two little girls, daugh- ters of Mr. Elam R. Blackwell, living

on the back bay of Biloxi, while bathing in the bay,immediately in front of hif dwelling Were attacked by an enormous alligator.

The eldest a girl of about seven years of age |

was holding the youngest, an infant of two years inher hands and was «: ietly enjoy- ing her bath, when suddenly be» little sistar was snatched from her and borne swiftly fromthe shore. Terrified beyond measure and unable to render any assistance to her unfortunate sister, the eldest girl uttered a | scream, which was quickly caught by the ear of the father, who happened, accident- ly, to be passing within thirty or forty yards of the spot where his daughters were bath- ing. Realizing instantly, from the tone of voice, that his children were in some peril, but unable toconjecture its exact nature.

——————

NO. 36.

ene one

| HISCELLANEOUS.

* ‘ Be a —~ Se ee ee eee ee eee

The revisers of the New Testament have carried On their work to the middle of the 4th cuapter of the Epistle of the Corinthians,

The French Canadians in New York and New Fngland are said to number 350,000, and it is also said on Canadian authority | that the efforts of the Quebee Government to attract them back are meeting with success,

St. Lowis Ang. 19.—Mrs. Charles M. Og. lesby, living near Walpole, lil. was found in her house ‘ast Monday, with her throat cut from ec» to ear, and the razor with which the act was committed was found ly~ ing on the floor. The husband, a young man twenty-three years old, was arrested on suspicion.

A further extension of the British Empire is about to be made in Africa by the annex- ation of territories hitherto known as Fingo Land and No « an’s land. The districts are situated between latitude 30° and 32°, on the borders of Cape Colony and Natal, and are occupied by a population of about 150- O00 of Kaflir tribes.

Le Metis, of Winnipeg, in a lengthy ar- ticle on ‘Emigration to Manitoba,’ strongly counsels the French of Lower Canada to

Mr. Blackwell, who is an active an athletic

men, rushed rapidly to their assistance, | and arrived at the spot just in time to dis cover his little daughter being. borne out | into the bay by an alligator. Comprehend-

ing the scene at once, and nerved to als

most superhuman effort by the desperate situation of his child, the agonized father

leaped madly into the water in the pursuit of the would-be destroyer of his Gaughter, which was some twenty-five or thirty yards | from the shore.

The water, for adistance

ito the bay from

the point where the children were bathing, ranges in depth from ore and a half to two feet and then suddenly attains a depth of

forty or fifty feet, and both the animal(which

rolled in snowy opulence or waved in gol-| and the father seemed to realize that the

den splendour in the undulating gale, The house was situated on a gradual eminence, which was crowned with a beautiful grove

of young hickories, and was in consequence

miliar with the name of its munificent mass ter. Occupying so commanding a site, with its broad, spreading wings snd lofty piazza’ that extended the whole length of the building, it was a kind of landmark to the traveller who might be journeyed through

of hisdomain. At night, when its myriad windows reflected the hospitable radiance

from the tall posts without, it resembled a lightshouse, flashing its beacon luster on the eye of its stranger, perchance in danger of being lost in that unknown sea of ver- | th e

dure on each side cf the mansion-house a ized by some fayourite tree or vine, or plant, showed that the master, who had so amply provided for his own comfort, had not for- | gotten the accommodation of his slaves. | Eehind each of these cabins were a small garden, belonging to the negro who occus pied it, which was as much his exclusive

the fields he assisted to culti- Phey all had time

property as vate were his master’s. allowed them to till these peculiar lots, as the luxuriant melon vines and flourishing | vegetables indicated, and every Saturday afternoon they carried their produce to market, as well as the poultry aud eggs they | themselves had raised, It is true, they were slaves but their chains never clanked. Each

separate link was kept moist and bright with the oil of kindness, applied with a} downy touch. Mr. and Mrs. Bellamy were actuated by and holy principles, | They felt sibilities resting upon them.

high deeply and seriously the respon- They were each the inheritors of a large fortune, con- sisting, as it usually does at the South, of | negro families. None had been purchased except where marriages “had been form- | ed, and the wife or husband pleaded in |

behalf of their chosen partners, and Mr. |

Bellamy had never violated the promise

made to his dying father, that he would not | ‘

separate the families that had grown up

around him, or sell one assessible to grati- tude and kindness. He respected the holy ties of nature, and believed that the domes- |

tic afiections glowe.t as warmly and purely in the dark bosom of the African as the fairer European’s. No severed, bleeding heart ever accused him before God of its

ternal anguish; no sable Rachel, ‘ weeping for her children,’ would raise up in judg- ment against him, at the tribunal of sove. | reign justice. Did all southern planters imitate his noble example, the foulest blot that darkens the page of slavery would be

Those who fatten on the sale of human

| blood would be obliged to stop their Jans

guishing traffic. and resort to sone more | honorable and Christian occupation.

Could Mr. Bellamy have believed that the happiness and best intrests of his slaves | would be secured by presenting them the | gift of freedom, he would have done it. But he felt, that by turning hundreds of the | helpless beings adrift upon the world, he | would be rather exposing them to want and temptation, than administering to their well | being.

‘} didn’t purchase them,’ thus reasoned | he with his own conscience. wrest them from their native land, benights |

Had I made him a gratuitous proposition, he would have rejected itat once. I could think of nothing better than this at pre- sent.’

‘Do not think me ungrateful. sir,’ said Mareus ; we cannot fail to be happy near youand Mrs. Bellamy. It ought to be the business of our whole lives to endenvour to repay your kindness. Words can never do it, | know; but I hope some day my actions will speai my heart.’

The boy spoke with an earnest grace and a kindling blush. Every strong emotion

radiant messenger to his eye, bearing wit- ness to its reality and truth.

When Milly learned, through Marcus, the change in his father s situation, her family pride was at first wounded , for, if there is anything an African despises, it is a common overseer, But when she heard that little Katy was to be taken into the household of that ‘sweet Mrs, Bellamy,’ and that she

her; that master Mareus was to be sent to afine school, when he would prepare for college, and associate with gentlemen’s scns, she was ina fever of joyful excitement. She had arrayed little Katy in one of the pretty frocks Mrs. Bellamy had sent her, and it so adorned the child, that seeing her, self in the mirror of Aunt Milly’s admiring

equa} enthusiasm,

eyes, she blushed at her own loveliness.

sent a glowing herald to his cheek, and a |

ed and degraded as it is. I received them | as a trust; and a heavy one itis, IfI give | ithem freedom, it will be like a diamond | | crown on the head of an infant. It will | weigh it down, without its being conscious |

of its splendid value. No! though I would |

give all that 1 am worth, or ever expect to |

be worth, to be free from this mortal en-

encumbrance, | cannot shake it off without |

doing violence to my ownsense of duty. [ | | will endeavor to perform the work appoints | {ed by my great Task-master in such a man- | |ner, that when I am called to render up | } my account at the great day of reckoning, |

| can bare my heart to the blazing eye of Al- | mighty truth, and say, ‘ Hear am I, and the | beings intrusted to my charge.’ ’ | It was alovely summer evening,—in the | | South, as soon as the sun has pa-sed the | zenith, the evening is supposed to begin, — / and the windows of Bellamy Place were all | open to admit the balmy air, that flowed in | redolent with a thousand perfumes exhaled ifrom the wreathing vines and dowering shrubs. The lovely mistress of this charm- | ing spot had beautified it with all the wealth

| of flora, and all the wild garlands of the | months’ imprisonment, Eevery thing seemed to Gourish |

| forest.

} |

| under her gentle care, every thing took rot

herself was to go with her and take care of | and grew in her genial soil. Ihe very air |

| of heaven seemed to love her, for it always , stole in blandly and fragrantly, even on the | sultriest days to kiss her benign brow, | This sweet evening she was situng ina | erimson-covered rocking chair, reading the pages of a book, that seemed ‘her inmost _soul to find,’ while a young girl of about | fourteen stocd by her side, twisting the flow-

ers of the white jasmine in her dark and | braided Jocks,

| To be continued, ©

once reached, pursuit and recovery would

fect from deep water

the assailant, released its hold and made

of a couple of bruises on its foot made by the teeth of the monster. — Mansharol (Miss.) |

| contents are as follows :

| the statement of its president, ‘ the reading

| to take them away or to counteract ite ef-

| own faith at home.

| statesmen left Mr. i his protege.

| matrimony.

deep water immediately in front of them

;

|

|

- . }

by this time had discovered the pursuit) | }

}

be alike impossible: both, therefore res |

doubled their efforts the one to reach the point, the other to prevent it.

T an

this | |

struggle, although sinking to his waist in |

the soft mud at the bottom at each bound, the father was successful.

Ile Succes eded in grasping his child by the arm, about ten

The alligator, which

all the while held the child’s foot in its | mouth, perceiving itself overtaken, and |‘

p »} alarmed and confused by the boldness of |

its

, , way rapidly into deep water in front of it glowing within, and the pine torches blazed | The father, completely exhausted,

| raised |

his child out of the water, and perceived that it still lived, by a desperate effort suc ceeded in regaining the shore and depositing the child safely in the arms of its mother. The little girl is unhurt with the exception | a great difference to our farmers and ships