Front Matter
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Forecastle Tom
 The wreckers
 The Spectre steamer

Title: Forecastle Tom or, The landsman turned sailor
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00063296/00001
 Material Information
Title: Forecastle Tom or, The landsman turned sailor
Series Title: Forecastle Tom or, The landsman turned sailor
Physical Description: Book
Language: English
Creator: Shindler, Mary Dana
Publisher: J. S. Pratt
Place of Publication: London
Publication Date: 1850
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00063296
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: ltuf - ALG5465
alephbibnum - 002225193

Table of Contents
    Front Matter
        Front Matter 1
        Front Matter 2
        Advertising 1
        Advertising 2
        Advertising 3
        Advertising 4
    Half Title
        Half Title
    Title Page
        Title Page
    Forecastle Tom
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
        Page 216
        Page 217
        Page 218
        Page 219
        Page 220
        Page 221
        Page 222
        Page 223
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
    The wreckers
        Page 227
        Page 228
        Page 229
        Page 230
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
        Page 235
        Page 236
        Page 237
        Page 238
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
        Page 247
        Page 248
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
        Page 252
        Page 253
        Page 254
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
        Page 258
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
        Page 262
        Page 263
        Page 264
        Page 265
        Page 266
        Page 267
        Page 268
        Page 269
        Page 270
        Page 271
        Page 272
        Page 273
        Page 274
        Page 275
        Page 276
        Page 277
        Page 278
        Page 279
        Page 280
        Page 281
        Page 282
        Page 283
        Page 284
        Page 285
        Page 286
        Page 287
        Page 288
        Page 289
        Page 290
        Page 291
        Page 292
        Page 293
        Page 294
        Page 295
        Page 296
        Page 297
        Page 298
        Page 299
        Page 300
        Page 301
        Page 302
        Page 303
        Page 304
        Page 305
        Page 306
        Page 307
        Page 308
        Page 309
        Page 310
        Page 311
        Page 312
        Page 313
        Page 314
        Page 315
        Page 316
        Page 317
        Page 318
        Page 319
        Page 320
        Page 321
        Page 322
        Page 323
        Page 324
        Page 325
        Page 326
        Page 327
        Page 328
        Page 329
        Page 330
        Page 331
        Page 332
        Page 333
        Page 334
        Page 335
        Page 336
        Page 337
        Page 338
        Page 339
        Page 340
        Page 341
        Page 342
        Page 343
        Page 344
        Page 345
        Page 346
        Page 347
        Page 348
        Page 349
        Page 350
        Page 351
        Page 352
        Page 353
        Page 354
        Page 355
        Page 356
        Page 357
        Page 358
        Page 359
        Page 360
        Page 361
        Page 362
        Page 363
        Page 364
        Page 365
        Page 366
        Page 367
        Page 368
        Page 369
        Page 370
        Page 371
        Page 372
        Page 373
        Page 374
        Page 375
        Page 376
        Page 377
        Page 378
        Page 379
        Page 380
        Page 381
        Page 382
        Page 383
        Page 384
        Page 385
        Page 386
        Page 387
        Page 388
        Page 389
        Page 390
        Page 391
        Page 392
        Page 393
        Page 394
        Page 395
        Page 396
        Page 397
        Page 398
        Page 399
        Page 400
        Page 401
        Page 402
        Page 403
        Page 404
        Page 405
        Page 406
        Page 407
        Page 408
    The Spectre steamer
        Page 409
        Page 410
        Page 411
        Page 412
        Page 413
        Page 414
        Page 415
        Page 416
        Page 417
        Page 418
        Page 419
        Page 420
        Page 421
        Page 422
        Page 423
        Page 424
        Page 425
        Page 426
        Page 427
        Page 428
        Page 429
        Page 430
        Page 431
        Page 432
        Page 433
        Page 434
        Page 435
        Page 436
        Page 437
        Page 438
        Page 439
        Page 440
        Page 441
        Page 442
        Page 443
        Page 444
        Page 445
        Page 446
Full Text


703 ZEEZUMR zBOn&a
Uniform with tke preset Work.

The PIRATE, or Laftte, of the Gulf of Mexico.
CAPTAIN KYD, or the Wlsard of the Sea.
PAOLINA t or, the Sybil of the Arao.
The BLIND HEART, a Domeste Story.
The FORTUNE HUNTER, or the Adventure oa a
Mn of Feahion.
The MONK'S REVENGE, or the Seet Rnamy.
The INVALIDS. or Pietures of the Freunh Rero-
The SERF KING, or Triumph of Liberty.
The CONQUEST ot MEXICO, by Dr. Bird.
The MAGIC COUNT, a Venetla Tale.
New POPULAR JEST BOOK, with numerous euts.
The WHITE WOLF i or the Seet Brothehood.
The BROTERS, 0o tJe Double Duel

*6hd. Nmw No"w;

The COUNTESS MORION, or, the Triumph of
TALES of the GENII, or amuing Stories.
The HUNCHBACK of Notre Dame.
COUNT JULIAN ; or, the Last Days of the Goth.
The SPY, by Cooper.
The OLD CONVENTS of PARIS, by Madame
Charles Rebaud.
LEGENDSof MEXICO: or, the Battles ofold Rough
and Ready.
The DANCING FEATHER, by Ingrabam.
The BACHELOR'S CHRISTMAS, or Castle Dismal.
The LAKE of KILLARNEY, by Miu Porterl
The MAIDEN of the INN, by Ingraham.
JOAN the HEROIC MAIDEN,by Aleoandre Dumas,
MARY STUART, Queen of Seots, by do.
The NAVAL OFFICER, or the PirLte's Cave.
The BUCCANIER, by Captain Hal.
ISABBLLA, or the Pride of Palermo.
The FAIR PURITAN, by H. W. Herbert, Irq.
The TREACHEROUS GUEST: a Tale of Pasion.
The POST CAPTAIN, by Dr. Mooe.

NOdow Nme Neerl.

MARY do CLIFFORD,or a Toa la i rt Waleu
ALIC COPLEY, or the Deoted SpMlh Piag
The GIPSY of the HIGHLANDS, or the Jew a
the Heir.
The COQUETTE, or, Florence do Laey.
The DEMON DWARF I or, Hau of loelad.
ST. CLAR of the ISLES; orthe Outlawsof Barn.
The FOSTER BROTHERS, by Miss EmUle Carle.
The FOREST GIRL, or the Mountain Hut.
ROSA, or the Child of the Abbey.
FANNY DALE, or the first Year after Mrrie.
SUNOROVE ABBEY, a Domestlo Tale.
AMELIA, by Fielding.
The ROMANCE of the FOREST, by Ma. Ratdife
The TWO SISTERS or, lbe Ch ages.
LOUISA EGERTON, or, C. C t Heet.
YOUNG KATE, or the Resue.
The ORPHAN BOY, or, Test of laouee.
ROB of the BOWL, by Kenedy.
CECILIA. by Miss Burney.

iceM Nea Nowa.

rANYr CAMPBELL, th Female PrIas Cpta
The MYSTERIOUS MOTHER. or the Theory a
SeMcd Love.
The CRUISER of the MIST, by lngaham.
RED RUPERT, or the Bold Buecanter.
EVELYN, or a heart Unmakd.
AGNES, or the Power of Love. A tale.
SALAMANDER, a Naval Romance, by Eugene Sue.
ARTHUR, by do.
The WIDOW'S WALK, by do.
MATILDA I or, the Memoirs of a Young Woman.
FANNY DALE, or the First Ye after Marriage.
The MONK, by Lewis.
The GREAT SECRET, or How to be Happy.
FRANCISCO, or the Pirate of the Pacdc.
PAUL REDDING, or the Wanderer Restored.
SICILIAN ROMANCE, by Mrs. Radelif.
The WITCH of RAVENSWORTH. demyy 18mo)
The RIVAL CHIEFTAINS: or the Brigawda of





AUmOS Or "IT mOasmnl ma smoU AlS,'
"roE TOV- Ul.Ok" aTO. TO.






IT was nearly 11 o'clock at night, and Tom
Smithhad not yet come home. On one side
of the fire-place sat his mother, looking
thoughtfully into the grate, where a few
coals were yet burning. She started at
every noise, and looked uneasily round, for
Tom was her only son, and she well knew
what a storm awaited him on his return.
Tom's own father had been dead for several
years; yet he had lived long enough to spoil
his son. In his father's time, nothing was
too good for Tom; it was only when he

12 OIALro TtL fox.
oried for the moon, or something equally out
of his reach, that his wants remained on-
gratified. In such seasons of affliction,
when the moon would not come for all his
crying, he was quieted by hearing the
"naughty thing" well abused; and solemn
promises were given, that, when be was a
man, he should have a flying horse, and
then he could ride up to the sky, and give
the wicked moon a good whipping.
Bat, as I said, Tom's father died; and
though his mother did not carry her indul-
gence quite so far, she could not bear to
chastise "her poor fatherless boy." And
thus he grew to manhood, flattered and
earesed, humoured in every wim, with
very evil passion strengthened by indul-

Bat now his mother was married again,
and Tom found the tables turned. His step-
hther was a proud, stern man, whose views
of family discipline were quite in the oppo-
site extreme; and he had fully made up his
mlad to pull the re A tightly as possible,

for thee was no other way, he said, "to
break Tommy in." Tommy thought he was
as much of a man as his stepfather, being
now nineteen years, three months, and two
days old, and so he also made up AiM mind
that he would neither be broken in nor held
in; he always had done just as he pleased,
and he always meant to do so.
Tom had two sisters, who deserved to
have been mentioned before. Lucy and Ca-
roline were sweet girls, who might also
have been rained by excessive indulgence,
if Master Tommy had not taken pretty good
care never to let them have their own way
when that way was contrary to his plea-
sure; and this was so often the case, that
they had abundant opportunities for learn-
ing the lesson of submision. Lacy had
jost arrived at the age of sweet seventeen,
and little Carry, a she wa called, was
nearly two years younger.
It will perhaps be thought, after what
has been said, that Tom Smith was a dia-
greeable young man; but this wa far from

being the case. Nature, or, rather, the
God of Nature, had favoured him above
most mortals. His personal appearance
was peculiarly attractive, his mind was of
a high order, and his disposition not natu-
rally bad. Indeed, it would scarcely be
too much to say that he was naturally
amiable; and the smile that usually played
about his well-formed mouth was so very
sweet, that those who saw him in his gentle
moods would wonder how people could say
that Tom Smith had such a bad temper.
Was it not a pity that a mistaken tendernes
should have injured so noble a being P His
fond parents did not realize that, while
they were sparing the rod," they were
"spoiling the child."
Time wore on, and still Tom did not
come. Mr. Hamilton, the stepfather, was
striding up and down the room with habty
steps, and his frequent glances at the clock
over the fireplace were always followed by
a closer compression of his bearded lips,
and a frown that portended no good to the


absent one. Mrs. Hamilton still at there,
growing more oneasy every moment: mad
Lucy, who had been for some time an in-
valid was reclining on a sofa, not wishing
to retire till her brother was safe at home
The silence was becoming painful, no sound
being heard but the regular footfalls of the
excited stepfather, and the monotonous
ticking of the mantel-clock. Now and then
a distant murmur reached the ear-a sound
of human voices, or the footsteps of some
merry party breaking the stillness of night
and Mrs. Hamilton and Lucy would raime
their heads and listen for a moment, till the
retreating sound grew fainter and fainter
in the distance. Then, with a stifed sigh,
they would each resume their melamnholy
posture, and wonder why Tom did not
come. Presently the wind arose, and added
its mournful sighing, and there wa a
sound of something pattering against the
windows; and then Mrs. Hamilton looked
up and ventured to remark that she believed

16 rosUOA8TrU Tox.
it was raining or snowing, and she was
afraid Tom would get sick.
It would serve him just right," growled
Mr. Hamilton; "and if the rain don't make
*him sick, I'll be apt to do it." Mrs. Hamil-
ton said no more.
The clock struck twelve, and Mr. Hamil-
ton, who bad before advised Lucy to go to
bed, was now about commanding her to do
so, when a sound from the street attracted
his attention. It came nearer and nearer,
and soon Tom's merry laugh was heard.
The mother and sister smiled when they
heard the cheerful sound, but the stepfather's
brow grew darker than before.
"Tom, you are a droll fellow," said a
voice that they all recognized to be that of
Harry Roper, his most intimate friend; "you
are a droll fellow, but I'll warrant that
tongue of yours will get you into trouble
Tom's reply could not be heard, but it
was something very funny, for it produced
a hearty peal of laughter from both the

young men; in a moment more Tom's heaa
was upon the latch. It did not yield, how-
ever, to his touch; and, after one or tvo
ineffectual attempts at entrance, he rippp~
out an oath, and rang the bell violently.
The servants had all retired, and Mr.
Hamilton himself proceeded to open the
door. Mrs. Hamilton and Lucy trembled,
and exchanged looks of apprehension; and
well they might, for they knew both parties
too well not to fear the consequences qf a
meeting under such circumstances.
The door was opened, and Tom shook hi
friend Harry by the hand, and bade lhi
good-night, saying a he did so, "I'll a
you to-morrow evening."
"That you will not, young man," sti
Mr. Hamilton, as he opened the pulour
"And who says I will not P" deman4ed
Tom, while the blood mounted to his fare
ead, and he stoo4 eyeipn hib stepfabr
fom lhed to foot.

"1 say so, young man, and I am
mater in this house," replied Mr. Hamil-
ton. "I forbid your going out to-morrow
evming, or any evening this week."
Tom was a well-grown youth,!tall and
muscular, and, for a moment or two, he
looked as if he meant to try his strength
upon the grey-haired man who stood before
him. Planting his feet firmly on the foor,
and clenching hi wi hi t his head
thrown proudly back, his nostrils dilated,
sad his eyes lashing are, be seemed about
to spring upon his antagonist Mrs.
Hamilton bent forward in her chair, para-
lyzed and dumb, waiting to ee what
would happen next; and Lucy had half
rirse ftm the sofa, and stretched forth her
hands towards her brother in a upplicating
One glance at his mother and sister con.
vinced the young man that, for their makes,
he must at that moment forbear; aad mut,
taring between his teeth, "We hall ee
who will be master," he cast a Mr,

Hamilton a look of mingled hatred and
contempt, and, taking up a lamp, strode off
with haughty steps to his chamber. So,
for once in his life, for the sake of his
mother and sister, he curbed his temper;
and people were right in saying that there
were many good trait about Tom Smith:
he certainly had a most affectionate heart.
Lucy had now reached her chamber, and
fatigued with watching, and overcome by
her late excitement, she had not strength
to undress, but had thrown herself upon
the bed, and burst into a blood of tear.
Caroline was fat asleep, all unaware of
the storm which was raging within aad
Lucy was still weeping, when she heard
a gentle tap at the door, and her brother
said, Sister, may I come in P"
The door stood ajar; so, when he beard
her answer Yes," he pushed it open and
walked in. His countenance still gave
evidence of strong excitement, and, as be
leaned over Lucy, and kined her affection.

ltely, she saw that he had a pistol in his
waistoat pocket. But bhe widely refrained
from noticing it, and returned her brother's
embrace. They were both silent for several
moments, but at length Lucy took his
hand, and said, Brother, where will all
this end P"
Tom bit his beautiful red lip for a moment;
and then replied, "I cannot tell, sister;"
after another pause, he added, I cannot
bear it, and I won't."
There was still another pause, and Lucy
sighed heavily. Then she made an effort to
speak, and asked, But what do you mean
to do, brother ?"
I must go away," he answered, "or-
or-I am afraid I should kill him;" and he
turned pale as he pronounced the words.
Brother I brother I" said Lucy, and she,
too, turned deadly pale. Again she caught
a sight of the pistol, and, summoning all
her strength, she pulled it from his pocket,
and asked if it was loaded.
That it is I" said Tom; and it came

FOUhUIMA 6a1 1
mar doing dreadful work ths nght; bu
you, Lcy-you saved him sad me."
"What do you mean, brother 1" guped
I mean," said he, "that I was on my
way down stairs to blow his braiu out; for
the more I thought of his inolence, the
more maddened I became, and my fury was
fast getting the mastery over me ; but, as I
paused your door, I heard you sobbing, and
that stopped me short, and softened my
feelings. I had been at the door ten minatew
before I came in."
"Thank God, my brother," said Lucy,
"thank God that you did not do such a
fearful deed I But," she continued, with an
involuntary shudder, "you are only jesting
-you cannot be in earnest."
"I was in earnest just now," he an-
swered, solemnly; "and God only knows
now how it will end." Then, gnashing his
teeth together, he continued, as if talking to
himself, "Most I be an exile from my
father' halls for the sake of that mma P

239 rouuATm TOM.
Aythin-anything," exclaimed Lacy,
Rather than a murderer 1" Then, burying
her face in her pillow, she sobbed out, Oh,
God I Oh, God watch over my dear
Tom was deeply moved, and, ere he re-
tired, he had made her a solemn promise,
with the Bible in his hand, that he would
try, with all his might, to control his fiery
temper. Then be kissed both his sisters,
and ascended the stairs with a mind rather
more at rest than when he had deseended
them a few moments before.


Tax next day was gloomy enough. The
moment Tom hove in sight, everybody could
see that he had not slept a wink. At the
breakfast-table not a word was spoken, aad
more than one tear was hastily bruised
away from the eyes of the mother and sie-
ters. Tom sat in moody silence, and ate
but little; and the tepfather was the piece
tore of offended dignity. It was a bitter
cold day, and it had now begun to now.
There was certainly nothing out of doors
to tempt a man away from his own Le-
side; yet Tom was under way, and steerial
straight for Harry Boper's a moment after
breakfast. Harry was a regularlazy-booes,
and never cared to turn out till ten o'clock
in the morning, so Tom found him still in

3t POsOAeflI TON.
"Well, Tom," said Harry, "what in tib
world has brought you out this dreadful
weatber-ao early in the mokring, too P"
"I don't care where I am," answered
Tom, nor what the weather is; I wish I
was dead."
Halloo I" exclaimed Harry, what's in
the wind nowP What's the difficulty,
Tom P"
That good-for-nothing stepfather of
mine made me so mad last night," said
Tom, that I came plaguy near blowing his
brains out; and I'll do it yet if he don't
look out, though I made very fair promises
to Lucy last night. I'll tell you what 'ti,
Harry, I can't stand it much longer."
"What did your mother marry him for, I
wonder P" said Harry.
That's nothing to you, Harry," answer-
ed Tom,rather sharply; "she did it because
she chose to, I suppose."
Well, man, don't quarrel with me about
it," said Harry, with a laugh; "I dW't

aroUoAMfU ro. 21
eoamder Mr. Hamilton worth quanellh
Nor I either, replied Tom; "but don't
say anything against my mother. The truth
is, people told her I would be ruined if he
didn't get some one to govern me, and she
did it for the beet; but she has fixed u all
offwith a vengeance."
Tom sat down, with his feet over the fire
place, while Harry still remained in bed
and spun a long yarn about ewything he
could think of to entertain his friend; but
Tom was in no mood for listening or talking,
so Harry came to anchor right in the middle
of a story, and tumbled out of bed for the
Good-bye, Harry," said Tom, at length,
starting to his feet.
"Where are you going P" inquired Harry.
"Can't you wait a ftt Uil a fellow gets
ready to go with you PL
"No, I can't wait," answered Tom;
"you know you take for ever to rig your-
self, and I'm too restless to sit hre and

look at you. Good-bye; I'll see you again
to-night, and then I hope I'll not be so con-
foundedly out of sorts." *
It would be difficult to describe the feel-
ings which found a place in Tom Smith's
breut during all that day. Something was
to be done. Things could not go on at
their present rate; it was no life to live.
The breach between Mr. Hamilton and
himself was getting wider and wider, and
the weather at home was growing more
squally every day. That very evening wU
to decide whether Tom was to be his own
master, or to be ruled by his hated step-
father. iHe had received a positive order
not to go out that night. This order he had
no idea of obeying: he meant to be out, and
to stay oat; and then would come a squall
-a regular hurricane. Whether either of
them would ride it eat in safety was a very
doubtful question, and Tom had serious
thoughts of slipping his cable and sailing
off at once under his own colours.
For several hours Tom walked up aad

down the streets of his native city. The
day was so unpleasant that he was not
likely to meet many acquaintances. Here
and there a negro passed him (for he lived
in aSouthern city), muffed up and shivering
with cold, and, as he sauntered by the win-
dows, children and servants stood gazing
in wonder at the falling snow-a rae sight
in a Southern latitude. At length he wan-
dered near the wharves. All at once he
stopped at the corner of a street, and, fold-
ing his arms upon his breast, stood there,
regardless of the weather, or of the curious
glances which fell upon him from every
passer-bye. Many wondered why such a
good-looking young man should take a
faney to stand there in such weather; and
one or two charitable old ladies, who lived
on the opposite side of the street, were
debating whether it wer not best to mnd
over and invite him to take shelter under
their comfortable roof.
"After all," thought Tom to himself,
"what is there in this world worth living

28 oasoiAnuI TON.
for While everything oes well with us,
life is pleasant enough; but how quickly can
the smooth current be changed! Six
months ago and I was my own master;
could come and go as I pleased, and no-
body said a word; but now, forsooth, I
must come home at a certain hour, and be
scolded like a child if I don't. Ill take
myself off, that I will. But, then, let me
see-bow would I get along without
money P I never worked in my life, and I
wouldn't know how to set about it; be-
sides, what could I ind to do P"
While such thoughts were passing through
his mind, a fine-looking old sailor steered
towards him. He was a regular "salt;"
none of your half-and-half fresh-water fel-
lows with gloves on, but a full-rigged
sallor, in his working clothes, with the
rank and noble bearing of a genuine son of
the ooean. A sudden thought struck Tom.
Why couldn't he be a sailor too P Tom
was a creature of impulse; he had never
been in the habit of sitting down, with his

nger on his nose, to count the est, before
he made up hi mind, and now was not the
time to begin to practise prudence; so he
sprang towards the honest-looking tar, who
was making tolerable headway with that
peculiar rolling gait which belongs to a
"Come in here," said Tom, "if you
please; I want to have a few words with
you." So saying he pointed to a tavern-
door which was standing open, and was
about leading the way to it. Surprised at
Tom's impetuosity, and perceiving his ex-
citement, the sailor hesitated. Giving the
young landsman a searching look, he said,
" Not so fast, shipmate; tell me Ant where
you're from, and whither you're bound."
"All in good time," answered Tom,
taking him by the arm; "just come in here,
and I'll tell you all about it."
Not a step will I go," said the sailor,
resolutely, till you answer my hail."
Oh, come, ome," said Tom, "it's too

long a story to tell you out here; besides, I
want no eavesdroppers to hear it."
"Ob, if it's a long yarn," said the sailor,
taking a stride towards the door, and be-
ginning to feel an interest in Tom, "if it's
a long yarn, let's, by all means, drop an-
chor here for awhile, and wet our whistles."
They entered the tavern together, and,
after wetting their whistles, as they called
it, proceeded together to an unoccupied
room. "Look here, friend," said Tom; "I
want to go to sea, and you must help me
out with it"
"What! before the mast P" inquired the
Yes, before the mast."
The sailor surveyed Tom deliberately
from head to foot. He then gave his head
a knowing shake, and took Tom's hand,
and felt it. Pretty soft," he said to him-
self, but that's easily cured; hauling ropes
'U soon give him a pair o' leather gloves."
He now took another long gaze at Tom,

oUNmAR na TN. 31

who all their time looked him full in the feA
without saying a word.
"By George l" at length exclaimed the
ailor, "you're a handsome fellow for the
forecastle; but I ha seen as likely ones
there in my time.'
"Well, my good fellow," said Tom,
"when you've done admiring me, tell me if
you can help me to a situation."
To be sure I can," replied the sailor,
whose name was Jack, to be sure; but
when will you be ready for a cruise ?"
"Any time- to-day- to-morrow- I'm
ready now," said Tom.
The sailor gave a hearty laugh. What I"
said he, "with all those long top about
you Why, man, you'll have to be new-
rigged before you're ready for se."
Make haste, then, and tell me what I'll
weat," sid Tom; "but, look here, I haven't
got muoh money."
"Well, you won't want much," mid
Jack, "aad that little I can get for you

33 iroUOAsul Tox.
In les than an hour Tom Smith wa m-
rolled a one of the crew of the stout brig
Heroules, bound for Vera Crau; and, amid
his preparation for departure, he half forgot
his troubles.


AND now the deed wa doae, and Tom be-
gan to think about parting with his mAwter
and sister. There wa a pretty blue-eyed
girl, too, who came in for a share of Ni
thought-ay, and a pretty large seare wa
Mary's. And now the question wa, bha
he better say anything to them about it?
Tom thought, and thought again. He haL
an active imagination, and be pictured to
bimelf the looks of his mother wha be
would tell her that he was going to ae
-- common silor-before the masts he
who had been brought up so delicately
He uaw her e tarn pale; be aw her lips
quiver; he saw e h tears oorin down
her cheeks; be heard her beeh him not to
leave her; sad, whbmn be foad tht he w

84 roxeoeita "it.
immovable in his determination, he imagined
he saw her close her eyes, and fall to the
ground insensible. "I never could bear
that," said he to himself, "and so I'll not
tell her anything about it."
Bat there were his sisters Lucy and Carry.
Should he tell them P He couldn't make up
Mis mid about that either, and concluded to
be guided by circumstances. Then there
was Mary. What was to be done about
her P What would Mary think if he went
4way without saying a word to her t She
would conclude he didn't care a bItton for
heI, and she might go and marry somebody
else before he came back; and Tom ooaldn't
bear the thought of that. No, no thkt
wouldn't do at all. So he concluded he
would tell Mary, and of to Mary's he
She was sitting near a window, winding
isekein of silk, which her little brother was
holding for her. As Tom passed the win-
dew she looked up,and gave hie s nod and
a mile; and she looked so prtt sq

sMOtaUas O, % iM
bewitching, that he began to think it would
be hard work to leave her. "Bat go I
mast, and go I will," said he to himself
"Mary or no Mary."
Good morning to your ldyship," Mia
Tom, trying very hard to look cheerful.
"Good morning, Tom," said Mary; "I'm
delighted to ee you. You're a good soul
to oome and see me this dismal morning."
Tom sighed. He really could not help it
though he tried his best.
"Why, what's the matter, Tom said
Mary, looking artlessly up into his fare;
Syou seem to be out of spirit this morn-
"No I ain't, Mary," answered he;
what makes you think so And then be
sihed again.
"Why, you look so, and you act so,"
aid Mary; "now tell me what's the mat-
ter. Has anybody been troubling you?"
"Yes-Mr. Hamiltom," answered Tom.
"Good life, To, I woldk't mini bimP
*4 NOT.

.4 roaIoA!Lu TOM.
Tom looked first at Mary and then at her
little brother, and maid, Have you nearly
done winding that milk P"
"No, I've just commenced," answered
Mary; "but here, you can hold it for me,
and Willy can go and play."
Tom willingly took the milk upon his
Pngerm, and Willy, very glad of the permis-
sion, scampered off into the yard. And now
Tom really did not know where to begin.
He had had a liking for Mary for a long
time; he knew her well, and thought she
was just the girl for him: but he was now
going out into the world, and might not his
feelings change P Might he not see ome
one he liked better than Mary P And then
he remembered that if he wte going into the
world, he was going as a common sailor,
and who would care for a sailor P Bet
then, again, he thought of his handsome
fhee, and concluded that many a girl might
fall in love with him, notwithstanding his
se-rigging and his san-burned akin. When
be looked at Mary, he wa provoked with

oIeaAMJ Tonm 3S
himself for having suoh thoughts, and could
have give himself a good beating because
he had for a moment entertained the idea of
forgetting her. "But it is not altogether
selfsh," thought he, "this hesitation of
mine; God only knows what fy fate will
be. I may never return, or I may be kept
away for many years; and it would be
cruel to engage Mary to wait for me."
This thinking was new business for Tom.
He had not been accustomed to deliberate;
but now the welfare and happiness of
anoter were concerned, and he felt himself
in dilemma.
All this time Mary had been basily ooa
eupied in untangling the silk, which Tom
had managed to get into "pretty con-
siderable of a narl," as the Yankees my.
Bbe had but poor eeese, however; for,
eome how or other, her fngen always went
the wrong way, and sbe was only making
it worse and wore.
At length Tom thought to bimearl
Well, I might a well begin and tell ber

po3asano TOU.

that I'm going ot-so here it goet." Cler-
ing his throat three or four times, he thu
began: "Mary, I'm going away."
Mary looked up from her employment,
and gazed into his face for a moment or two
without spiking.
"Tom," said she, after a little while,
Tom, you're joking."
"Not this time, Mary," he replied; I'm
in earnest now, if ever I was in my life.',
Mary looked inquiringly at him, but u he did
not speak, she bent her head again to her
work to collect her thoughts. Tom never
had been so silent before; he seemed all at
once to be struck dumb. At length Mary
looked up again, and threw back the hair
that had fallen over her face. Tom," said
she, "you say you are going away: when
re you going, and where P and how long
will you stay?"
Mary had made a desperate effort to say
these words, and now she set her lips Arsly
together and awaited Tom's answer.

"amaUA=U roW. 4
"I'm going far away, Mary; ra pe-
haps I shall never return."
It came upon her like a thunderbolt,
She turned pale, and then red, and then pale
again. Her breath came thick and fast, and
she seemed to be struggling fautterance.
At length she gave two or"i ree short
gasps, and fell back in her chair with her
eyes closed, and Tom thought she had
Mary I my own Mary I" he exclaimed;
"speak to me, Mary!" Presently her colour
returned, and she opened her eyes, and,
burying her face in her handkerchief, beat
into a plentiful flood of tears. What would
women do without tears ?
Tom could bear anything but that. It
always unhinged him to see a woman cry,
especially a young and pretty one. In a
moment he forgot all his prudent resoltiosw,
and commenced playing the lover at a rapid
rate. One word brought on another, and
before Mry rai her head again, he had
told her ll bis heart, and enlosed hb i

40 wOUCIATL Tox.
his arms, and bo fnuibhed her fit of crying
on her lover's shoulder.
And now joy and sorrow in both their
breaats were strangely mingled.
So Is it ofttn bhwbow r
Mary's tears and entreaties to induce Tom
to give up what she called his romantic plan
were of no avail. She could not see any
reason, for her part, why he couldn't do
somethiul at home for his own support, if
he didn't choose to be dependent on his
stepfather; but it has been truly said that
U to affections are bad reasoner," and
Maryatlength had to confess that she could
not name anything in pe icuar that Tom
could do, and o she supposed be would have
to go. He promised, however, that he
would make a fortune as soon as ever he
could, and come back and lay it at her feet
Upon this they both brightened up, and con-
eluded very wisely that it was beet to bear
with fortitude what could not possibly be
avoided. Tom would gladly have spent

with Mary every moment till his departed,
but be bad various matters to attend to, and
his vessel was to sail the next day.
Young as Mary was, she gave her friend
a great deal of excellent advice. Tom pro-
mised very fairly; in fact, it real appeared
to him that, now he was an engaged man,
he never should do anything wrong again.
When Mary pointed out the quickmands
which might be in bis way, and warned him
to avoid them, he almost felt angry with her
for supposing he might be shipwrecked upon
them. Still, he thanked her with many a
kiss for her good advice, and promieel
read the little Bible which she put into his
hands at parting-whenever he could get
time. I will not describe their parting
lovers never like to have witnesses; and be-
canse I happen to know what they said
and did, I do not think it would be right
to tell upon them. iut Tom maw Mary as
often as he could before the vessel ailed,
and his last moments were spent with her,

a 1OSuAMA "oN.


ALL wau madness in Mr. Hamilton's dwell-
tig. This was the evening on which be had
commanded Tom to stay at home; and
evening had come, and lo Tom was not
there. Mr. Hamilton was working himself
up to a rage, and Mrs. Hamilton, and
L and Carry, were trembling with ap-
--ion. They saw Mr. Hamilton get
the horsewhip ready, and they well knew
that If he ventured to strike Tom, something
dredfal would be the result. ButTom had
no idea of giving his stepfather the trouble
of whipping him.
Tea-time came, and the family took their
smat at the table in silence. Caroline wu
a lively, laughing girl, and it war, in ge-
neal, hard work for her to keep till; bat
Ahe lored her brother dearly, sad s hr


siter had informed her of what took ple
the night before, she too felt seriously un-
easy. Tom had been absent nearly all day,
only coming in atintervals, and then, when-
ever he would catch the eyes of either his
mother or sisters, he would suatc up his
bat and instantly leave the house. Poor
Tom I As I said before, he had an affec-
tionate heart, and on this sad day it was
rent by a thousand conflicting emotions.
Every hour the anxiety became more
intense in that little family circle. Every
distant footstep was heard, and the mother
and sister would listen as it came umAw,
actually dreading to recognize Tom's well-
known elastic tread. Every sound would
cause them to start, and more than once
they trembled and turned pale when they
thought they heard him coming; but he
came not.
At length Mr. Hamilton called old Molly
the family nurse. Tom was her idol; and
Mr. Hamiltoa knew that if Tom made a


confidant of anybody, it would be hisold
mommer. Molly obeyed the summons.
"Molly," said Mr. Hamilton, "do you
know where your Mas' Tom ii this even-
ing ?"
"How for me know, mesa ?' said Molly.
"Look here, Molly I none of your impu-
dence to me, madam," exclaimed Mr*
Hamilton, looking angrily at her.
Molly said nothing, but folded her arms,
looked contemptuously at her master, and
sucked her teeth.*
"'Molly," aid Mr. Hamilton, rising and
spring towards her, "did I hear arightP-
Did you suck your teeth at me ?"
"I beg you pahdon, mesaa" said Molly,
somewhat frightened; "I no bin got for
sock my t"t."
Mr. Hamilton took two or three hasty
strides across the room, and then exclaimed,
Sue(ka the teh, as it allte, isat l mk a l
ame the U mo of Anmioa. It igL h mq.tt
med is very exprSrve.
SI da't man to, &c.

InosoAuI TOW. 45
"Everybody in this house is rained, from
the mistress down. I never saw sch an
unruly set; but I'll see who's to be master
here. As for that young Tom, I'll settle the
matter with him, I'll warrant him I To dare
to go out when I ordered him to stay at
home! To dare to do it Molly, go and
call Jupiter to me, and come back your-
Molly departed on her errand, taking care
while she was gone to suck her teeth at her
master to her heart's content. "De. nsy,
good-for-nat'n ting I" she grumbled, "for
come yer an' lib 'pon my missis' money, an'
den gib heeelf such ais !" (airs). "Neber
min' I Jupiter no know nut'n 'bout Ma]s'
Tom goin', and I will 'ceitfal to 'm; *he
sha'n't in' 'am out from me, I kin tell 'ma.*
Jupiter soon made his appearance at the
door, followed by Molly, who was bh

*I wil de hls.

46 ionoAMu vOx.
"Iabe," said Mr. Hamilton, "where is
your young mossa P"
"I deola', master, I ain't know where
Mas' Tom is, sir," replied Jupiter, casting
a side glance at old Molly.
"You lie, sir; you do know where he
is; you think I didn't see you winking to
your mother I" said Mr. Hamilton, approach-
ng the boy, and shaking his fit in his face.
"Jube en't bin wink at me none 't all,
mossa," said old Molly.
"You lie, madam, he did l" said MW
Hamilton; "and if you don't look sharp,
I'll hore-whip you all round. How long
snee your Mas' Tom went out, Jobe P"
"*He gone out, sir," replied Jupiter,
Sto'rable early in the afternoon. I brushed
his coat for him rezactly at three o'clock,
sir, and he put it on 'rectly after, and went
out, and he hasn't come back sense, sir; at
least, I haven't sawn him-is you, ma P"
"You min' you' own business, sir,"
replied old Molly; nobody bin tell you for


Sme a uin' 't all, I abo."* And ere;
glad of the chance to vent 'her feeling
a little, she sucked her teeth at Japiter.
"The old Harry's got into you all I be-
lieve," said Mr. Hamilton, scarcely able to
refrain from beating somebody. It was
well for poor Tom that he did not come in
at that moment; it would have gone hard
with him if he had. After ordering Jupiter
to lock the street-door and gate, and bring
him the keys, Mr. Hamilton dimissed the
mervents to the kitchen. Up and down (l
room he walked in gloomy silence, the
mother and sisters, huddled together in on
corner of the fireplace, casting neasy
glaene frst at him and thB at each other.
Nine o'clock, ten, eleven, and the wanderer
wa still absent. Mr. Hamilton now
ordered them all to their rooms, aA the
mother ad daughters, after exchanging a
ilent i, retired to their beds, but not to

48 tIoCzaSTL TOM;
About midnight Tom came slowly along
the street, and halted in the neighborhood
of the bouse. All was dark and still, but,
by walking off to some distance, he was able
to discern that a light was still burning in
the back room, in which his mother slept.
His stepfather, then, was up, and probably
on the watch for him. Tom felt an ardent
desire to get into the house, and, if possible,
to take one more look at his mother and
sisters before he left them, perhaps for ever.
After a little more reconnoitering, his reso-
lntion was taken. He was not long in
climbing over the gate, and soon found him-
self in the upper piazza, while his bceeks
burned with rage at the thought that he was
skulking about like a criminal, under the
roof of his own mother, where he had been
accustomed to command.
Creeping stealthily along the piazza, he
reached the windows of his mother's room.
There, by the lamp which was burning in
the chimney, he saw that his hated step-
fati was uleep, bayipg thrown himself

roMoANIa V 40
on the bed without divestia~ him teof nM
of hiM clothing. Not so his mother. Se
had gone regularly to bed at the nmmand
of her husband, but no sleep visited the pil-
low, which was now wet with bitter teas.
What tears so fll of bitterne as those shed
by a mother for her son-her only son-her
firat-born What sighs so heavy as those
that are forced from her bursting heart
What prayers so full of meaning as tha
she sends to heaven in her agony P Ah
what is there like a mother's love Poed
have sng it, philosophers have speculated
upon it, bat none can paint its beaty, noe
can oand its unfathomable depthl I
Tom stood at the window long, and
heated ieI eyes witCe right of his mother.
How little she thou& he was o a ear h .
Two or three times did he almeet cal e
his reeolation, and determine that be would
not leave her; but as often as his ey
wandered to the other side of the bed ad
emntre the sleeping fomrif Mr mi

80 l6ta6Atfix foy.
tO, he was a fall of determination u ever.
But at length he tore himself away, and
aasended softly to his own room. There he
tied up a bundle of such things as he want-
ed, and, after taking a farewell glance at
his pictures, books, and other dear and fa-
miliar objects, he sighed, and left the room.
As he passed the door of his sisters' cham-
ber, he panued. The door was shut, but
be thought he heard a sound from within,
and, placing his ear to the keyhole, he
istened for a moment. It was the voice of
prayer I Broken, indeed, were the petitions,
and intermingled with sighs and sobs, but
at intervals the words could be distinguish-
ed. It was the voice of Lucy, and ahe
was pleading with G1 for her dear and
only brother. Carry Bad cried herself to
And now Tom's eyes were overflowing
with tear. He had not been able to weep
before; he thought his tear were all dried
up; but at the sound of Lucy's supplicating
tom the fountain overlowed, and seemed


to relieve his bornin brain. He listened
till l was still, and then stole softly down,
and once more entered the piazza. As he
approached the corner from which be in-
tended to commence his descent, he saw a
dark fgure standing motionless there. There
was only light enough to show him that it
was the figure of a woman, but who it was
he was at a lose to conjecture. However,
it was no time for hesitation, and he ap-
proached. "Man' Tom, Mas' Tom I" said
the voice of old Molly, I kam for tell you
bytee,* my moses." "Hush, Molly," aid
Tom, pointing, at the same moment, to bis
mother's room; "if you make a noise, it's
all over with me."
I Molly shook her head significantly, and
then took her ycn master's hand. Her
own was as cold as death. "You think you
will eber kam back, Mas' Tom whis-
pered she in his ear, while Tom saw, by the
faint light from the chamber-window, that

! GOosby

5t2 rowAtrss e n.
the big, round tears were chasing eachothet
down her aged cheeks.
"0 yes, I'll come back one of these days,
when I've made my fortune, and we'll see
very different times," said Tom, affecting a
cheerfulness which he did not feel.
De Lord in heaben hab massy 'pon you,
my chile, and bring you back again," said
Molly; and, with these words, she put into
his hand a bundle containing sundry articles
of her own cooking, such as hoecake, sweet
potatoes, eggs, &c. Tom scarcely knew
what to do with them, but he would not
pain the good old soul by refusing them, so
he stuffed them into his other bundle, wrong
mom Molly's hand, who caught him and
strained him to her bosa, and then sprang
over the banisters andsoon regained the
Sad and solitary he wandered about for
some time, and finally he stretched himself
on one of the wharves beside some cotton-
ag. It was cold and damp, but Tom dd
not iak of the weather his mental ex-

IO iA#M.i TOMe 43
citement was too 'great for that. By de-
grees he became composed, and finally he
fell asleep. When he awoke the son was
just rising, and giving promise of a bright
winter's day; the weather had moderated,
and everything looked cheerful. The gar-
dens in the neighbourhood were killed with
evergreens, and here and there a large bush
of daily roses, in full and brilliant bloom,
presented itself to the eye. Tom rose up
from his singular resting place with curious
feeligs. It was the first time he had ever
qlept on such a bed. The novelty of his
situation was rather pleasant than other-
wise, and the world began to seem les a
world of trouble than it did a few boors


AT the appointed hour Tom war on board
the brig, looking very little like a sailor, it
is true, though he was dressed like one;
bat, as the old alt had said, a little sea lifb
would soon change all that. I believe I
have said before that Tom was singularly
handsome, and now in his sailor's dresm, his
good looks were, if possible, more conspi-
onous. His neat round jacket and sailor
pantaloons well displayed the symmetry of
his form, and his glazed tarpaulin, stuck so
jauntily on one side of liN head-for be had
not yet learned to give it the backward
sailor tip-ebhanced the beauty of his faoe,
set round as it was with a row of clustering
eoAmut curls. What would Mary have
sid if she had seen her much-loved eilor
boy a bit nilor rit P

OISOAgl.M TOl. 65
But it was some time before Tom eeal4
reel at all at home in his new situation.
All was so strange to him, that, for a time#
he felt completely bewildered, and, to as a
common saying, he hardly knew whether he
was on his head or his heels. Although the
forecastle, in which he expected to live for
some time to come, was not as dark ana
confined as it is in some vessel, Tor
thought it was bad enough. And the ell
-bahl it was enough to make a hose
He had not been very long on board be-
for e he was called aft with the rest to have
the watches set. It was Tom's fortune to
be put into the same watch with old Jack,
the sailor who had so kindly ausited him in
getting away from home. They were both
in the starboard watch, under the command
of the second mate, and, withal, a troly
pious man. But most of those with whom
Tom wu to be associated were driat ,
swearing, frolicome, fellows, by so lemm
the bestoompanioe for a yYmO Ma Jd

wighiSn amehor for his fnt erami in the
wide and wicked world. The captain's
ame was Williamson, and the names of
the two mates Lincoln and Murray.
The Ast night out it was rather rough,
and Tom was awfully sea-sick. Notwith-
standing this, though he felt as if he should
die the next moment, he was obliged to ex-
et himself, and run about as if nothing sW
the matter; though, to tell the truth, he
searoely understood an order that was
given. He kept as close to old Jack, how-
ever, as possible, and did what he saw him
do, except when the old fellow strethed
oat on the yard-arms to reef the sail; Tom
felt rather too green for that. Jack had
given his young shipmate a great deal of
good advice, and Tom was really trying to
do his beet. He few about here and there,
tumbling over everything, staggering to
leeward when the brig gave a sudden lurch,
ed scathing hold of ropes, and pulling
whn he saw others pull. One consolatim
wM rt be had bean shipped for ae r

emaMsna u. tf
hand, and they could not expect maoh foe
him; but, sea-ick as he wu, his ambittl'
was all on fire to know, as soon as possible,
as much as anybody else.
Tom speedily became a favourite with
captain, mates, passengers, and crew. It
was impossible to look upon his open, hand.
some features without feeling an interest in
him; and one of the fashionable lady pas*
sengers remarked that it was a shame for
such a handsome fellow to be a common
sailor; she didn't see, for her part, what
made him choose such a life. He looked,
she said, for all the world like a young man
she bad met in a party on shore the other
evening, but she supposed it couldn't be he.
It really was the very man himself, and
Tom had recollected the young lady too:
but, as he was now before the-mast, he
said nothing about it.
The weather grew worse and worse, end
all hands were called to shorten ail. Tom
was below when he heard the call, but ho
tumbled up at the ummuou, Md W on

61' 1O3ORAfTU TOm.
dsk s oon anybody. The topsail
were to be reefed, and Tom went aloft with
old Jack, holding on with all his might,
for be had not learned to balance himself,
and give with the motion of the vesel.
When he got aloft, he took pretty good care
to remain in the slings: not even his affec-
tion for Jack could allure him to the yard.
arms. He kept his thoughts about him,
though, and attended well to what was
going on, so that he might not be at fault
the next time the job was to be done. Mr.
Murray, the second mate, who was at the
weather yard-arm, could not help observing
Tom's cleverness, notwithstanding that he
had his own hands full, for the wind was
blowing a respectable gale. After the men
had laid down from the yard, and Tom had
swayed away upon the halliards with all
his might and main, Mr. Murray oompli.
mebted him by saying he would make a
Mlrate ilor, and Tom felt as proud as a

The was a brave young fellow i;, t

OUOAtrMs oK. qo

tarboard watch named Harry Lee, wit
whom Tom soon became very intimate. He
liked him, in the flrt place, because hi
name was Harry, and, in the second place,
for a great many other things. Like Tom,
he was in the morning of life, full of fun
and frolic; and though Tom Smith could
bear away the palm of beauty from every
soul on board, Harry Lee was quite good
looking enough. We ball hear more of
him in the course of our story. Another of
the watch was called "Old Sobersides,"
from his always being in "a brown study."
He was never seen to emile, sad went
about his work mechanically, with the air
of a man whose thought were somewhere
else. Old Soberuides wa a great source of
amusement to Tom and Harry, bet be
never heeded their jokes until they bse
a little too practical, and then he wora me*
guard them with such a look of calm deeper,
that they would half regret havif trse4
" the poor old Doctor," as they sumamt
called him. Though be ma lly happen

quite inoffensive, he now and then had his
fit of ill temper, and then he seemed to be
almost a fiend. At such times Tom would
nod to Harry, and give two or three signi-
fcant raps upon his forehead, to intimate
that all was not right in that region.
Among th3 passengers in the Hercules
were a young man and his sister, who were
going to visit a friend in Vera Cruz. The
young man war an invalid, almost in the
last stage of consumption, who, with the
restlessness which accompanies that aud
disease, had left home just at the time when
the comforts of home were most necessary.
It was delightful to witness the devotion of
his interesting sister. Whenever the wea-
ther was fair enough, she would have a
coq rtable bed made for him on deck, and
tie die would sit by his side, and read
nsd sing for him by the hour, or talk of the
pleaant times they would have when they
meehed their destined port. And sometimes
Ish would lead his mind to the subject of
deat, mad talk about it so pleamatly, that

louAOgU "O1. or
one would have thought it was only a de-
lightful transition from a strange land to a
long-wished-for home. And so it is to the
One day, when there was a gentle, steady
breeze, Tom was trying his hand at the
helm. The brother and sister were occupying
their accustomed place under the lee of the
weather bulwarks, and Tom could not help
hearing all that passed. He was a sweet
singer himself, and could, therefore, find
exquisite enjoyment in listening to the low,
plaintive tones of the affectionate girl, as
she leaned over her emaciated brother, and
sang for him her favourite hymns. After a
long pause, in which each of them seemed
to be indulging in their own reflection, the
invalid whispered, "Sister, dear, sing l%
favourite song of yours about heaven."
sister closed her eyes, clasped her hands
together, and then began, in a sweet, low
warbling yoice, to sing;-


There i a hoanr otpeacer l n
To mourning wand'rr given i
There is ajoy for souls dstresd,
A balm for every wounded brent-
*Ti found aboveT-n heaven.

Thee is a home for weary soul
By inand orrow driven :
When tom'd on llfes tempestuous shoals,
Where storms arise, and oess rolls,
And all is drer-but haven.

There Flth lifts up ht tearful eye,
To brighter prospect given
And views the tempest paying by.
The evening shado quickly fly,
And aU sermas-.n heaven

There fragrant owen Immortal bloom,
And Joys supreme ae given
There rys divine disperse the loom,
Douadt the conufe at the tomb
Appears the dawn-of hem.

When he haad nished signing, she did
not immediately open her eyes, but larg
tmr Aole out from b teeath the long luahs,


and stood for a moment on her cheek; then
it rolled slowly down, and another one was
trembling beneath the other lid. The
brother wa gazing affectionately at his
sister, and now he raised his trembling hand,
and gently wiped away the second tear,
saying, u he did so, "All tears shall be
wiped away."
Yes," replied the sister, "there will be
no weeping there-no sorrow, no sighing,
no more partings."
Her eyes were still closed, and Tom stood
gazing at her, and thinking of Mary, entirely
forgetting his compma, and helm, and every-
thing else. The ship was sailing on a taught
bowline, and, before Tom was aware of it,
she had come up into the wind, and all the
forward ails were taken aback. "Port
your helm I" seng oat the second mate.
Port it is, sir," answered Tom, in a mo-
ment, quite ashamed of himself for his can-
leness. The head sheets were attended
to, and the mainsail hauled up, but alI t
vyl; he still continued to come to, t

of rouoA us ToMi
before se could be boxed off, the wind was
upon the other bow. In a moment all the
yards were squared, and she began to back
like a frightened steed. As soon an she was
under sternway, by the assistance of the
helm and head sails, she paid off handsomely,
and was soon again under headway. "Meet
her, now-meet her I" said the second mate,
and all was right again. But Tom got a
scolding which he did not soon forget.

1O~39A~U, ~9M.

SoM how or other, Tom began, bydegrms,
to feel an unconquerable dire to know
something of the history of 01 Soberaides.
It was quite evident that he was not what
he seemed. It was seldo that he spoke,
bat when he did, his lagu e was not of
the kind that is generally beard a fore.
cutle. And there wa an air about him
like that of a man who had seea better
times-a dignified, almost a haughty ai-
very ditrent from the lhe, off-had man-
er of a 'fore-the-mast Jack. Tom and
Harry used often to puzzle their betlfa aboot
him; and at length Tom determined hat
he would question him, and me t he eom .
get anything out of him. He comtmsneo
by trying to win his confidence. Any little
nd- he could think of w obsherfully
79 a ?

68 iaso&Auk tON.
done, and Old Soberside seemed to be in
some measure softened. The jeers and jokes
of Tom and Harry daring the first part of
the voyage had soared his temper, and made
him les and les communicative; but the
warm son of kindness is irresistible, and
will melt the most icy heart.
One night, when the star-bowlines were
keeping the rnt night-watch, old Sober-
sides wu standing near the forecastle,
quite motionless, and looking down, as
usual, upon the deck. Tom stood wondering
what he should say to the poor fellow, and
hardly liking to interrupt his reverie, which
seemed deeper than usual. At length Tom
came ear him, and accosted him with,
SWhat's the matter, shipmate you seem
to feel down-hearted to-night."
"Who told you I was down-hearted P'
grefly replied old Sobersidee.
"Oh, nobody told me so; I only thought
yea looked so," answered Tom; "can I do
anything for you P"
Young man," replied the other, ,yolk

rooAUnes foa. O
And it u much as you can do to take care of
yourself; you'd better not meddle with
"I meant no offence, doctor," aid Tom;
"but I don't like toese anybody In distress
without trying if I can't help them."
Who sy's I'm in distress, I ask you"
said 8obersidee.
Oh, nonsense I" answered Ton, what's
the ee of being so cro P If you oan't
give me a reasonable answer, I'll be off;"
and he turned to go away.
"Come here, shipmate:" ezxolimd So.
bersides, suddenly snatching Tea's hand,
and drawing him to the vessel's ide; you
must forgive me; I'm not myself some.
times. You've been kind to me lately, ad
I thank you for it; but don't ak ea what's
the matter. God knows I'm usn ppy
enough, but neither God nor man amhel
SDon't say that," answered Tom; I've
bti ltught to believeat tJaing is ia
pobl with God."'

60 rosOAMsr T0M.
"Isn't it imppossible for God to lial'O
abruptly inquired Old Sobersides.
"Of course it is," said Tom; "that
would be going contrary to his nature."
"Well, then, even God can do nothing
for me, and there's the end of it," sid
"Bat-" continued Tom.
It's useless to say anything more about
it," hastily interrupted Sobersides, grasping
Tom's hand, and squeezing it till he nearly
broke the bones; "thank you for the in-
terest you feel in a poor wretch; but, I, tp
you again, neither God nor man can help
Finding that conversation was unpleasant
to the unhappy man, Tom left him, and
went to spin a yarn with his friend Harry.
Be found Harry and the second mate in
mrust conversation; and, as he drew
ear, they each held out a hand towards
him in token of welcome. The night was
perfectly clear, and the staunch brig wa
gliding through theb water at the rate of x

3roiuKoflT TOM. U9
khotb an hour, with the wind about tW6
polat abaft the beam. No one was occur
pied except the man at the wheel and the
look-out, and it was one of those delicious
nights when no one feels inclined to sleep.
"Well, Mr. Murray," said Tom, "I've
been overhauling Old Sobersides. I found
him looking as doleful as a Blue-light, and
I asked him what was the matter; but he
soon sung out, and made me belay. I got
this much out of him, though, that he's a
poor unhappy wretch; and he says that
neither God nor man can help him. I ex-
pect, some time or other, he's done an awful
Poor fellow I" said Mr.urray, "I pity
him from my heart. He looks to me like
one whose conscience is making him fel
the torments of bell while hdre on, earth.
An evil conscience is a dreadful enemr sad
a clear conscience is a good friend, r mj
"Poor Old Soberides," said Harry, "t
wondr what he hua dose." Harry pmo4s

70 touoemLI TOY.
a mome ta if in thought, and then went
on: a Yes," aid he, "I know a bad con-
science is a horrid thing to get afoul of a
man; it gives him no rest, and keeps him
in a squall night and day. Fast as he
makes all enog, and thinks to run before it,
another one strikes him from another quar-
ter, and nearly upsets him again."
"That's very true," aid Mr. Murray;
"but how different it is with a good con-
science. A man who knows that he has
squared the yards with everybody, and kept
as near as he could to his master's orders,
ain't afraid of anything. No matter what
comes, he can hold up his head; and people
may say what they please, he don't mind it.
He's got a log that' a all m e straight
when he coes to be paid off; so he keep
a light heart, and sleeps as quiet as a little
SThat's more than Old Soberside does,"
sid Tom. He moans and talks in hie
sleep, and sometimes jumps up in the big-
gest fright you ever saw, with his eye

PoUUAMl toN. 71
almost starting out of his headed his hair
standing off like bristles. And sometimes
be don't attempt to sleep at all: I've seen
him sit out his whole watch below, on a
chest, with his hands in his pockets, and his
eyes looking right down before him."
It seems you were not sleeping either,"
drily remarked Harry.
Oh, I mean he was sitting there when
I turned in, and when I bundled out, and
whenever I woke up between times," said
Well," remarked Harry, "sometimes
when we're talking together, and ain't
thinking about him at all, he looks at eu a
little while, and then turns a pale as death;
or else he clinches his ,t, and comes and
asks as bow we dare to be talking about
him. I've been ready to knock him down
two or three times; but, when he looks
so pitiful, I feel sorry for him the next
I don't doubt," mid Mr. Murray, but
that he has something heavy ling oe his

W remot sti Toi.
mhBd; btf we muto't Judge; 0od only
nows. I advise you,however, my ad, to
Ibllow the example of St. Paul, who mai
' Herein do I exercise myself to have a -
ways a conscience void of offence towards
God and towards man.' That's the way to
be happy."
You're right, Mr. Murray, as to that,"
said Harry. But I'll tell you what I've
been thinking: if Old Sobersides has been
guilty of any dreadrfl crime, I don't like
sailing in the same ship with him; he'll
bring us bad lack."
"Luckl" aid Mr. Murry; "why, what
luck P"
It'-i's--it's-why, i t's wkk," a*i
swered Harry.
Well, tfat's a yery satisfai ry sawur,
any how," mid Mr. Murray, laughing.
But let's overhaul tt matter little.
IPople generally mea by look, cAed or
fI/kte, don't theyP"
aell, now, strictly peakig, i. thea

any deOh thing as ehbasee" inqdub b.
SWhy, I don't know-I s'pose o," wan
swered Harry; "people have all ~d of
things happening to them that they can't
account for."
"You ninny, you," interposed Tom, "do
you suppose there's nobody at the helm,
guiding the great ship of the universe 9'
Why, yes, I s'pose there must be," an-
wered Harry, or else she'd soon be ashore
among the breakers, going to pieces with a
"To be sure she would," said "'Tom.
a Only think of the son, moon, and stat all
keeping in their places, and the earth we
live on golng round the sau Once ebky yei,
for thbousads and thousands of yead, ail
never stopping a moment, or going too iat or
too slow. Why, you can't look at anything
but it seems to be made for sounie e
purpose, and somebody must have ade it."
"Of corse, I know that God made ever-
thing," aid Harry, a little nettled 1iat To

dbould think him an nMdel; but I don't
esppose be takes the trouble to attend to
every little concern."
You must remember that he is an ini-
nite God, my boy," said Mr. Murray, who
ees and knows everything, and has done
it from all eternity. When Jesus Christ
was sending out his twelve apostles, didn't
he tell them that not a sparrow fell to the
ground without their heavenly father knew
it And then, to comfort them, he mid,
'Fear ye not, therefore; ye are of more
value than many sparrows;' and he told
them besides, that the very hairs of their
heads were all numbered."
Well, I never thought much about it,"
said Harry, and you must be right, after 4
all. But what's the reason there are es
many lucky and unlucky days ?"
"That's all nonen," said Tom.
"I know better-it ain't," answered
Harry; I've seen it proved over sad over
Yea only think so, my boy," sid Mr.

Murray; but it' all mltake. The oly
diffsreoe God made in days was to make
one holier than all the rest, to give hi
creature a chance to lie to and worship
him. If there's anything unlucky about it,
it's unlucky to ail out of port on that holy
day, or to do anything that can be avoided;
and we'll all ind it so when we come to
settle up at the end of life's voyage. Un-
lew we apply to the great Father, and beg
him to make a clean sweep of our sins,
they'll all come up against e at the lat
day. But if we go to him, through Christ,
for salvation, in right good earnest, he has
promised to cast all our sis into the depths
of the ee."
That's what I was going to tell Old
Sobersides," aid Tom, when he insisted
that neither God nor man could help him.
I meant to tell him that there wa but one
sin that couldn't be pardoned, and nobody
could ever tell whether they had committed
it; I meant aleo to tell him that, no matter
what he had done, God would foruve him,

if he aikd him to; but he stopped me
short, and said that God couldn't le."
"Well, if thars what he says," conti-
nued Mr. Murray, you can tell him what
God says, and he ought to believe it. Show
him this passage of Scripture: Come, now,
and let us reason together, saith the Lord:
though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be
as white as snow ; though they be red like
crimson, they shall be as wool.' If he feels
distressed or worried about his sins, it's a
sure sign he hasn't committed what he calls
the unpardonable sin. Jesus Christ says,
' Come unto me, all ye that are weary and
heavy laden, and I il give you rest; and
him that cometh unto me I will hi no win
cast out.' He doesn't say, I will cast out
none that come to me, unless they've Oom-
mitted the unpardonable sin;' no he says
he will in no ise eat out enj that come.
And he tells us how we are to come: IT*ke
my yoke upon you.' That's clear ceg'~
im't it? And I'll tell you one thing, Cuiist
kw that any one that was put forgive

solP4WW4p 7o7
would neer feel inclined to be forsives,
and would never come to learn of him; so
he was perfectly safe in offering pardon to
all that came, and he meant what he aid."
"I must try to remember all that, to
tell to Old Soberside when I talk to him
agai'" ,aid Tom.

78 ioiuoimu oM.

TH first moment that Tom and Harry got
a chance, they went to overhauling their
Bibles to ind something to say to Old
Sobersides. They were by no mmean
familiar with its precious pages; and they
found so much that was new, and that
seemed to concern thtmnelve, that they
quite fbrgot Old Sobersides.
"What are them young chapel doing
thee said one of the sailors to another.
a They're having church, I believe,"
answered the other.
SLet's go and hear the preaching," said
thb frt speaker.
"Come on," answered his companion.
So they moved to where Tom and Harry
were mated together on the rail, and, pt-
tig on very long face, appeared to lten

quite devoutly while Tom read ralud to
Harry. Presently one of them gave a deep
groan, abd rolled up his eyes. Tom looked
up from his book, and saw Long Ned and
Little 8am standing there, trying to ridi-
cule them for what they were doing. Little
Sam was a great drunkard, sad had that
very day bought both Tom's and Harry's
allowance of grog; and he was to pay
them by washing their clothes. Sam was
more than three sheets in the wind" then;
it was he who had given the groan, and
now he groaned again.
You drunken, good-for-nothing fellow 1"
said Tom, who forgot for a moment that he
was before the mast, and therefore on an
equality with Little Sam; how dare you
come with those pranks to me, air?"
"Who are you, I wonder F" said Little
Sam; "if you don't belay pretty quick, I'll
pitch you overboard."
"You'd better try it; sir i" replied Tom,
quite provoked.
Little Sam moved a step or two forward;

1 004P4 "N W.
eattba ho we goig to put hiuteat
into executio. when Tom prang from the
ral, and eanght him by the throat. Saa
wy a, little bit of a fellow, and, tipsy as he
vus, f@nd himself by no means a math for.
To., S.till be continued to bully him, until
tom'ss avubdued temper was fairly roamed.
"I'll kill you, yoa little spider I" aid Tom,
from between his clenched teeth;" I'll teMet
you to inult.you betters I" And he caught
a former old of Little Snm, and shook him
as tQhoh he would shake limb from limb.
At length Long Ned thought it tim to inter-
fere, ad he accordingly advanced upon
Tom. "Fair play fair play I" shouted
mme of the sailor who had gathered
med to see the fght; but just at that
moment 'Pom hit Little Sam a tremendous
blow, which laid him senseless on the deck;
s d ,the he tuaed furiously to Ned, and
closed in with him, crying out," You want
a touch of my quality, too, do you P"
All this had occurred late in the aftir
aoom, sad the captain and both mate wee

OrhOAMu r ToN. 81
on deck, but they we aft, rad did not
know what was going on till the noise
became so great as to attract their atten-
tion. They now all three came rqaing
forward, and the captain, after e
the combatants, put both of the*i
dirty work of slashing the masts-Long Ned
the foremast, and Tom the main. There was
no stopping now to fight it out, and they
started to obey orders, looking daggers,
however, at each other. Tom's foot struck
against something as he went, and looking
down, he perceived the Bible which Mary
had given him, trampled on and soiled I-
He picked it up, put it in his pocket, and
started off for the mast-head, with his
bucket of grease in his hand. As he sprang
into the main rigging, and was putting his
foot into the first ratline, he caught the
mild blue eye of the young lady, who was
seated by her brother. It was full of sor-
row, and went to his heart; for his appear-
ance had too plainly convinced her that he

was ascending the shrouds in disgrace. In
an instant he turned his head away, and
then he encountered the earnest gaze of Mr.
Murray; and hit look, was one of sorrow
and reproach.
When Tom had got to the mast-head, and
had taken a few moments to cool down and
reflect on his behaviour, he was thoroughly
ashamed of himself. To be caught fighting
with a tipsy fellow, just because he had
said a few unmeaning words to him I Bit-
terly did he reproach himself, and wish that
he could learn to curb his fiery temper; and
more tlan once the thought passed through
his mind, that if he had been well switched
when he was a little boy, it would hav
been a good thing for him. At home, till
his stepfather made his appearance, he had
ruled with undisputed sway; and now, the
consequence was, that he could not bear the
least contradiction, and had no control of
himself when in a paion. His St of pa-
on never lasted long; for he had not a
malwiou disposition, and neer obeh hed

anse; bat theme va always dangW of h.
doing, whir enged, what it would t,ia-
posible for hia to ando. Minol 4.ith his
self-reproach was a certain uneauiqpi-.r-
spectng the fate of Little Sam, w4omQ he
had Wlt stretched insensible upon thta k.
Perhaps he had injured him seriously, on-
perhaps he had killed him I How It it
end P
Self-control is a great acquirement, and
an extremely difficult one uuder the most
favourable circumatawces; but when the
will has never been subdued in youth, it
acquires a strength and violence which it is
next to impossible ever to overcoow. An
umubdued will is a hard matter, which,
will tyrannize over its posesor; yea, it
rnn with a rod of iron. He that hath no
rule over his spirit is like a city that is
broken down and without walls." Every
enemy hp free acess to the citadel, which
ought to be strongly fortified, and guarded
at all points. Little do parents imagine,
*ha they withhold n ded oolection from.

their children, what sorrows they are heap.
nlg up for those they love better than life;
whatepears and arrows to pierce their own
fod bosoms I
Harry Lee soon went to the second mate,
ond,atr informing him of the circumstances
of he case, begged of him to intercede for
Touj p the captain. Mr. Murray did so,
and m was forgiven. He soon ascertained
that Little Sam was not seriously hurt-
only stunned by his fall: it was quite a
relief to his mind. But how could he ever
take his trick at the helm again, where he
wouldbe sure to se the sweet young lady,
who had given him such a look as e as-
oended the rigging "Ah I" said he to
himself, people must pay the penalty of
their foolishness; I wish I want se pas-
rionate I"
It was a clear moonlight night, and the
starbowlines had the watch on deck. uooh
weather-it was delightful "Oh if I only
had Mary here thought Tom, "and my
mother and ister, I should be perfectly

nysoAerL toM. 88
happy Pooor allow I he quite forgot at
the moment that be was a 'fore-themaat
hand, and that the forecastle was his home:
besides, such weather was not always
to last; dirty times were coming. They
had now got into the neighbourbe of
Cuba, the region of storms, and of damp.-
ons islands and shoals. But ablM eat
the gallant brig was walking the r at
a rapid rate, with all her canvas, below and
aloft, spread proudly to the breeze. The
lower and topmast studding-sails bad been
set for several days, and now the royals
and topgallant studding-*ails were also
extended. There is nothing more exhilarat-
ing than to stand upon a vessel's deck, and
feel ourselves thus borne aleg on the
boundless ocean. To look aloft, and se
the snowy canvas stretched to the taper-
ing masts or yards, or to lean over the veas
el's side, and watch the foaming water as
it seems to glide swiftly by us; to feel the
proud ship lay over with the breeze a it
gives a etroaer brath than nual, and then

96 PORnWoSttib o
erect again her tapering mastu till tea
seem to pierce the sky above our heads-
oh there is a feeling in all this which thorn
on land can seldom experience I
All seemed to feel this influence but poor
Old Bobersides. He stood, leaning against
the vessel's side, apparently absorbed, as
usunlt his own melancholy reflections.
Of late he had evinced but little of his
former grnffhen. On the contrary, he had
been for some time easily affected to tear;
any little kindness shown him, or any soft.
ening expression used towards him-even a
pitying look, would bring the tears into his
eyes, and he would hasten away to conceal
his feelings. The truth is, that since the
interestineonversation ot the second mate
with Tom and Harry, they had vied with
each other in showing him their sympathy
and interest. Mr. Murray, too, had left no
opportunity unimproved to win his love
and confidence.
What is there like kinness to mel t6
heart ad soften the belingap Itis IDt

FOaoMuna TOx. 87
the dew of heaven falling gently upon all
things, and producing freshness, and green-
neo, and beauty. It was, in truth, a golden
rule which the Saviour gave to his fol-
lowers, when he said, All things whatoo-
ever ye would that men should do unto
you, do ye even so to them." The time
may come to us all when we shall ni the
sympathy of our fellow-men, and how can
we expect it if we withhold it from other P
A universal attention to the law of kind-
ners, the golden rule of our Saviour, would
make a heaven upon earth.
While Old Sobersides wa standing solil
tary, an we have related, Mr. Murray ad-
vanced towards him. After engaging for a
few moments in general oonveation, the
mate gradually changed the subject, an
began to speak of the mercy of God. Old
Sobeides soon endeavoured to alenes him
by saying that he knew all about the mercy
of God, but he knew also that there was a
point where it murt stop, or it would alsh
with ijustioe. You have voting to do

with that," replied Mr. Murray; "God has
not told you where his mercy stops; on the
contrary, he represents himself a akoays
ready to pardon those who repent and re-
form. His mercy, in Christ Jesus, has no
"I know," said Old Sobersides, "that I
am cut off from God's mercy;" and the poor
fellow* buried his head in his bosom and
Mr. Murray sent up a prayer to heaven
that he might have wisdom to guide the
unhappy man to the never-failing fountain
of mercy, and then he proceeded : "But
howtdo you know, shipmate, that yon are
cut off from the mercy of God ?"
The poor man hesitated for a moment,
and then replied, "I have committed a
crime for which there is no pardon."
Mr. Murray was silent, not knowing how
far it would be best to press him on so
delicate a subject; but at length he said,
"My dear friend, have you sounded the
depths of the mercy of God ? Do you not

know that it is past finding out You
most be very careful how you set a limit to
any of God's attributes." Just at this mo-
ment Tom and Harry came towards them,
but, seeing how they were engaged, were
about turning away again, when Old Sober-
aides sung out, in a voice so soft that they
were startled to hear it, "Come here, my
lads; I've got nothing to say that you may
not hear. God bless the boys they've
been kind to me, and may God reward them
for it.
Tom and Harry now came forward, and
took their seat, upon the rail, and Old So-
bersides went on: "I've made up my mind
to confess all: I have been suffering for
year the torments of the damned, and I an
bear it no longer. I cannot have such a
secret burning in my bosom another hour:
it seems as if it would relieve me of a part
of my burden to confess it, and confess it I
will; and, the moment that I set my hot on
shore, I'll give myself up to justice, and suf-
fer the penalty of my crime. Oh, would to

00 ronusn ok,.
God that the punishment would end ther I
Oh, the worm that never dies I the fre that
never goes out Some time or other I'1 give
you all a history of my life; it may do you
good, and I want all the world to take
warning by me. Now hear it-hear it-
BHAu IT I" he shouted, his voice growing
loader every moment; then, rating up his
hands, he almost screamed, These hands
are stained with Mood! I Ax A MaIDRIw I"
and, before any one could stop him, he darted
away to another part of the ship, and coiled
himself up under the lee of the bulwarks.

TRULY, truly, the murderer carries his own
hell within his bosom. Conceal his crime
as he may from the eyes of his fellow-men,
he knows that God has seen him, and can,
at any moment, bring his guilt into the open
light of day. Awake, asleep, by day and
by night, in solitude or in a crowd, the me-
mory of his crime is with him, haunting his
conscience, and tormenting him, as it were,
before his time. The image of his murdered
victim is ever before him; no shade, no
dairkbe, an chide it. It is an ever-present
embodiment of horror; it stares into his
bloodshot eyes; it thunders in his startled
ears; it tear his very heart-string I It
walks by his side; it sit at his board; it
lie down upon hi pillow No ret-no
peace hath the murderer I

*WAMA bj Loi

'Poor Old Sobersdes, a he heated himself
the next night to tell his tale of sorrow,
declared it had been so with him. For ten
long years he had known not a moment's
happiness. Happiness Not a moment had
he ceased to suffer the most appalling tor-
ment. Mr. Murray, Tom, and Harry were
his auditors, and be thus began:-" I am
not what I seem. I have not always been
the poor, dejected, suspicious wretch you
now behold me. I was born of wealthy
parents, whose families had long sustained
an elevated station in society. I was their
Arst-born-their idol. No gratification was
denied me; no advantage which wealth
could give me was withheld. My talents
were good, my natural disposition not bad,
my personal appearance rather in my favour.
My parents tried to sow the seeds of virtue
within my breast, and, for a time, they
seemed to have succeeded; but-but-
never mind, you will hear."
Allow me to interrupt you a moment

shipmate," said Mr. Marray; "was your
mother a praying woman ?"
That he was," he replied, with a deep
sigh. She prayed with me and for me,
and she tried to get me to pray for myself.
Oh I they are bright spots in my dark,
clouded sky, when I can forget, for a mo-
ment, the present in the past. Well, my
mother prayed and coaxed, but she never
whipped me--he, nor my father either."
"That's a pity I" exclaimed Tom.
Yes, it is; it would have been better to
have beaten me to death than to have he-
moured me as they did-though that would
not have been necessary. However, for a
time, they had great comfort in me; I was
considered quite a prodigy of learning and
goodness. Though my fond parents did not
know it, they fostered my pride in many
ways. I generally appeared remarkably
amiable; and no wonder, for it was very
seldom that anything came across my hu-
moor; I did not often give the family occa-.
sion to oppose me, and so they never got i'

84 Poxauamo TM.
the habit of doing it. But I well eqmnber
that sometimes my will would clash with
those of my little brothers and is.tqrn, and
then I would raise nsch a hurricane about
their ears that they would stand mate with
astonishment, and generally give up at once
from pure amazement. I recollect, once or
twice, seeing my mother's mild, tearful eyes
fixed upon me with an expression of anxiety,
but I would recover myself so quickly after
I had gained my point, and then appear so
calm and amiable, that it wa soon forgotten.
Year rolled on, and I went to college.
My friends thought that my principles were
settled, and envied my parents the possession
of such a son. One lady told my mother
that if her son was only like me she would
be a happy woman; but that he was natur-
ally so wild, she feared very much a college
life for him. She said he had been one of
the most troublesome of her children, but by
keeping him well switched, she had got him
pretty nearly subdued; but she feared the
tpmptatiAos of college lif would e0t fl.

"oasur* m "aX. of
the mrsgine of evil within hi heart, ad
do dreadful mshief. My mother condoled
with her, anihoped it would be better ath
her (ear, and thanked God that she had no
sh feMar for hr on. Poor mistaken wo-
mnPl She did not know that the train had
Mnr been fied to reach the magazine
within the breast of her son; while that of
her fried's child had been set on fre so often,
and as often smothered by parental love and
faitftViaes, that he was in far less daner
of an explosion than I.
"My rst year in college was passed very
creditably, bat I had, in the meantime,
become acquainted with some pleasant
e.gpalpns, who were not long in leading
s on to rain. They taught me to drink to
sear, and to gamble; and they made me
P ieUs. They wer fascinating; and I
never saw my danger, so completely &d
they blind my eyes and entrance my eaes.
They introduced me to everylicetious plea-
mre, and that completed my rain, ad
ardened my heart mor than anything

else. Pleasure I lived for, and pleasure I
would have, whatever the cost. Young
men," he continued, turning to Tom and
Harry, "be careful of your companions
Don't let a fair outside deceive you-don't
take a friend to your bosom till you know
what his character is. Watch him well-
sift his character well; for our friends are
either great helps or hindrances to virtue;
and, besides, people are very apt to judge
of you by your companions, and to class you
with them.
"Bad books, too, helped to ruin me, and
with these I was kept constantly supplied.
I read of duels and murders, committed by
the most interesting characters, till I bega
to view those crimes with less abhorrene
than I had been accustomed to. I learned to
think that it was nobleto revenge an injury,
and that the greater the injury, the greater
should be the revenge. Alasu I forgot the
scale of degrees I had learned in my father's
house: that it was noble To roieivu, and

PocloAWt TfO. 7
that MAe greater tA. qff, As n&or#
not" was itsforgivea s.
Things went on from bad to worse, aa
at length one of the professor, who was
my guardian, wrote to my father. My
father immediately penned a letter to ine,
in which affection and harrtmes were
stranily mingled. I shall never forget my
feeling when I received that letter. They
were i first harsh words I had ever heard
from either of my parents, and they lasbe
me up to fury. It was too late to begin
*ith harshnessthen. They had never tand
the tiger when it was younf, and It wa
past taming then. A few kind wori at
the end of the letter from my ihot6
sofjened me a little; but my better rfeeliia
Ilsted but a, moment, and then the flenOt'
turned ith tenfold violence, ind t bok i ..
session of my soul.
"As for my guardian, my anger ait
him knew no bounds. I determined o r e
venge myself. He had already thwarted be

98 PoW olRns N o. .
in som of my anticipated pleasure, and I
read in his countenance that he determined
to keep a still tighter rein over me. Pro-
bably my father bad requested him to do so.
I nursed my revengeful feelings; I brooded
over them in secret, and, of course, became
very miserable. Everybody knows what
demons rage within that breast which har-
bourn malice and revenge. To drown my
misery I flew to the bottle, but this only
added fuel to the fire. I began to hate the
eight of my guardian, and one day-O God I
why did I live to see that day ?-one day,
when I had been drinking freely, I slung my
gon over my shoulder and rushed into the
woods, determined to put a period to my
own existence-an existence I could no
loger endure.
"In a lonely part of the wood I met my
guardia. The devil within me whisped,
Now you have your enemy in your power,
you would be a greatfool to let him eoepe.'
I tried to banish the thought, but it woald
not )ov mpe; their was my enemy, nd

bern wa my loaded gun upon my shoulder.
The prolesor was in a brown study, and
had not yet observed me. I tried to trn
into another path, but my feet refused to
cary me there; the foul lend kept me rooted
to the spot, near which the professor was
to pas. I tried to shoot off my guinin an
opposite direction, but my finger would not
pull the trigger. At length I placed my gun
against a tree, and commenced walking off
in another direction. Ten thousand fiends
were at work with me. 'Fool I fool l'
they called me; liver-hearted simpleton
you're afraid I you're afraid I' I went on,
however, and soon quickened my step to a
run, but the ends elamoured more and more;
I stood still-I turned round-I began to
run to the spot which I had quitted-I
reached it-I snatched up my gun-the pro-
ftssor was just at the right distanee-I
levelled-took aim-fired-and he fell!"
"Was he killed?" exclaimed his three
hearer in a breath.
!F DT-4ed~d-,dead I" exclaimed be; ~ h

100 fRoireiM Tou.
neoi moved gain. I was aolbr In ta In-
stant-I have been sober ever since. Fiom
that moment to this I have never lost sight
of my victim. He follows me like a
shadow, and he will be chained to my side
through all eternity. Ages after ages will
roll away, but he will be there still-I mean
NiO appearance-his likeness-for he will be
in heaven: he was a good man. That was
ten years ago ; I was then twenty-two-I
am now only thirty-two, and you see what
remorse has done. Look at my grey hair:
it turned grey in one night. Look at my
furrowed face-my decrepit form: would
yon think I was only thirty-two ?"
"Impossible I" said his hearers, each
drawing along breath.
"Ti as true as the Bible. Well, I made
my escape, and became a sailor. Since
then I have wandered over the world, rest*
less and miserable, the pitiable object you
see me. Often would I have sprung into
the waves if I had not feared that my
misery would be increased hereafter. And

cww yoq kzow the whole, sad I am cal.ep
then I have been for ten years. My hpom
i lightened of a heavy 9lad now that some-
body knows my horrid secret; but ohl the
future I the future eternity I eternity 1 How
can I bear my dooml Who can dwell
with the devouring ire ? who can dwell
with everlasting burnings ?" As he ended,
he buried his face in his hands, and the
heaving of his frame alone gave evidence of
the convulsion within.
It is Otearful tale," said Mr. Murray,
after a solem pause. "But, my dear ship-
mate, listen to me. You are not past hope.
There is but one sin that cannot he forgiven,
and we don't know what that is; but if you
bad committed that, your conscience would
be seaed as with a red-hot iron; yqnr con-
cienOae would be dead, but now it is all
alive. You would feel no distress on *o-
count of your sin, a you do now; you
wouldn't feel like beeeching young meq to
take waning by you, as I heard you dojUao
sow; yoq wouldn't feel kindly tosTpd,

University of Florida Home Page
© 2004 - 2010 University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries.
All rights reserved.

Acceptable Use, Copyright, and Disclaimer Statement
Last updated October 10, 2010 - - mvs