PERSEVERANCE. take that little bill for the magazine to-day. Sharp well as other folks, and if you can't pay me the five turned and looked at Peter very sternly. dollars to-day, to help me pay my board at my regular boarding-house, I'll stay here and board it out at your table." "I can't be bothered with these little things," said he, "when I am so much engaged. I am exceedingly busy to-day-a good many heavy orders waiting—you must call at the house, and hand the bill to me or my wife, no matter which." And he turned to his desk, and continued to write, without saying anything more. "You will, will you?" said Sharp, looking daggers, and stepping toward Peter. "If you give me a word of your impudence, you may find it'll be a long time before you collect your bill." Peter began to think he had got hold of a hard customer; but he had no idea of giving up the chase. He called at the house several times afterward, but Mr. Sharp never happened to be at home. Once he ventured to send the bill again by the girl to Mrs. Sharp, who returned for answer, that she had nothing to do with such bills; he must carry it to the store. At last, after repeated calls, he found Mr. Sharp one day at home. He came to the door, and Peter presented the bill. Mr. Sharp expressed some surprize and regret that he had come away from the store, and forgot to put any money in his pocket. Peter would have to call some other day. Accordingly, Peter Punctual retired, with a full determination to call some other day, and that not very far distant; for it had now been several months that he had been beaten back and forth like a shuttlecock between Mr. Sharp's store and Mr. Sharp's house, and he was getting to be rather tired of the game. Having ascertained from the girl at what hour the family dined, he called the next day precisely the dinner hour. He rung at the door, and when the girl opened it, Peter stepped into the hall. 179 "Please to go and tell Mr. Sharp," said Peter, "that I must see him, and I'll wait till he comes down." So saying, he took his seat again very deliberately upon the sofa. Sharp paused; he looked agitated and angry; and after waiting a minute, apparently undecided what to do, he left the parlor and went up stairs. In a few minutes, the servant rung for dinner. Mrs. Sharp came into the dining room and took her seat at | the head of the table. Mr. Sharp followed, and seated himself opposite his lady; and between them, and on the right hand of Mrs. Sharp, sat another lady, pro "Is Mr. Sharp in ?" said Peter. "Yes, sir," said the girl; "he's up stairs. I'll speak bably some friend or relative of the family. When they to him if you want to see him." were well seated, and Mr. Sharp was beginning to "Yes," said Peter, "and I'll take a seat in the parlor carve, Peter walked out of the parlor, drew anothor till he comes down." chair up to the table, and seated himself very composedly opposite the last mentioned lady. Mr. Sharp colored a good deal, but kept on carving. Mrs. Sharp stared very wildly, first at Peter and then at her husband. The girl carried the message, and Mr. Sharp soon made his appearance in the parlor. A frown passed over his brow as he looked at Peter and saw him sitting so much at ease, and apparently so much at home, upon the sofa. Peter rose and asked him politely if it was convenient for him to take that little bill to-day. "No," said Sharp, "it is not; and if it was, I wouldn't take it at this hour. It's a very improper time to call upon such an errand just as one is going to sit down to dinner. You must call again; but don't come at dinner time; or you may drop into the store some time, and perhaps I may find time to attend to it there." "It's been a long time already," said Peter, and I can't afford to wait any longer. My mind is made up; if you don't pay me now, I'm going to stay here and board it out." Sharp colored, and looked at the door, and then at Peter. As he said this, Peter walked into the parlor and seated himself upon an elegant sofa. The parlor was richly furnished with Brussels carpet, the best of mahogany furniture, a splendid piano, &c., &c.; and in the back parlor, to which folding doors were open, "What in the world does this mean?" said she. everything appeared with corresponding elegance. A" Mr. Sharp I didn't know we were to have company table was there spread, upon which dinner seemed to to dinner." be nearly ready. Presently the girl returned from the chamber, and informed Peter, that Mr. Sharp said "it was jest the dinner hour now, and he would have to call again." "Well, now, Mr. Sharp," said Peter, with rather a determined look, "I can't stand this kind of business any longer, that's a fact. I'm a poor man, and I suppose you are a rich one. I can't afford to lose five dollars, and I'm too poor to spend any more time in running after it and trying to collect it. I must eat, as "Come, come, young man," said he, advancing with rather a threatning attitude toward Peter, "the sooner you leave the house peaceably the better." "Now, sir," said Peter, fixing his black eyes upon Sharp, with an intenseness that he could not but feel, "I am a small man, and you are considerable of a large one; but my mind is made up. I am not a going to starve, when there's food enough that I have an honest claim upon." "We are not," said the husband. "This young man has the impudence to take his seat at the table unasked and says he is going to board out the amount of the bill.” "Well, really, this is a pretty piece of politeness," said Mrs. Sharp, looking very hard at Peter. "Madam," said Peter, "hunger will drive a man through a stone wall. I must have my board somewhere." No reply was made to this, and the dinner went on without any further reference to Peter at present. . Mr. Sharp helped his wife, and then the other lady, and then himself, and they all fell to eating. Peter looked around him for a plate and knife and fork, but there were none on the table but what were in use. Peter, however was not to be baffled. He reached a plate of bread and tipping the bread upon the table cloth, appropriated the plate for his own convenience. He then took possession of the carving knife and fork, helped himself bountifully to meat and vegetables, and commenced eating his dinner with the greatest composure imaginable. These operations on the part of Peter, had the effect to suspend all operations for the time on the part of the rest of the company. The ladies had laid down their knives and forks, and were staring at Peter in wild astonishment. "For mercy's sake, Mr. Sharp," said the lady of the house, "can't we pick up money enough about the house to pay this man his five dollars and send him off? I declare this is too provoking. I'll see what I can find." With that she rose and left the room. Mr. Sharp presently followed her. They returned again in a minute, and Mr. Sharp laid a five dollar bill before Peter, and told him he would thank him to leave the house. Peter examined the bill to see if it was a good one, and very quietly folded it and put it into his pocket. He then drew out a little pocket-inkstand and a piece of paper, laid it upon the table before him, wrote a receipt for the money, which he handed to Mr. Sharp, rose from the table, bowed to the company and retired, thinking as he left the house that he had had full enough of the eustom of Solomon Sharp, the importer. Peter Punctual still followed his vocation of circulating magazines. He had no intention of ever darkening the door of Mr. Solomon Sharp's store again, but somehow or other, two or three years after, as he was canvasing for subscribers in the lower part of the city, he happened to blunder into the same store accidentally, without noticing the name upon the door. Nor did he discover his mistake, until he had nearly crossed the store and attracted the attention of Mr. Sharp himself, who was at his accustomed seat at the desk where Peter had before so often seen him. Peter thought, as he had got fairly into the store, he would not back out; so he stepped up to Mr. Sharp without a look of recognition, and asked if he would not like to subscribe for some magazines. Mr. Sharp, who either did not recognize Peter, or chose not to appear to recognize him, took the magazines and looked at them, and found a couple he said he would like to take, and inquired the terms. They were each three dollars a year in advance. "But I don't pay in advance for anything," said Sharp. "If you have a mind to leave them at my house, to be paid for at the end of the year, you may put me down for these two." “No,” said Peter, "I don't wish to take any subscribers, but those who pay in advance." Saying this, he took up his specimens, and was going out of the door, when Mr. Sharp called him back. "Here, young man, you may leave those two at any rate," said he, and here's your advance," handing him the six dollars. "Where will you have them left?" said Peter. "At my house, up town," said Mr. Sharp, describing the street and number. The business being completed, Peter retired, much astonished at his good luck. He again became a 'monthly visitor at Mr. Sharp's door, where he regularly delivered to the servant girl the two magazines. Two or three months after this, when he called one day on his usual round, the girl told him that Mr. Sharp wanted to see him, and desired he would call at the store. Peter felt not a little curious to know what Mr. Sharp might have to say to him; so in the course of the same day he called at Mr. Sharp's store. "Good morning," said Mr. Sharp as Peter entered; "come, take a chair, and sit down here." Peter, with a "good morning, sir," did as he was desired. "Ain't you the young man," said Mr. Sharp with a comical kind of a look, "who sat out to board out a subscription to the New England Magazine at my house wo or three years ago?" "Yes," said Peter, "I believe I'm the same person who once had the honor of taking board at your house." "Well," said Mr. Sharp, "I want to give you a job." "What is it ?" said Peter. "Here, I want you to collect these bills for me," said Mr. Sharp, taking a bundle from his desk, "for I'll be hanged if I can; I've tried till I'm tired." Whereupon he opened the bundle and assorted out the bills, and made a schedule of them, amounting, in the aggregate, to about a thousand dollars. "There," said he, "I will give upon that list ten per cent. commissions on all you collect; and on that list I'll give you twenty-five per cent. on all you collect. What say you, will you undertake the job?" "Well, I'll try," said Peter, "and see what I can do with them. How soon must I return them?" "Take your own time for it," said Mr. Sharp; "I've seen enough of you to know pretty well what you are." Peter accordingly took the bills and entered on his new task, following it up with diligence and perseverance. In a few weeks he called again at Sharp's store. "Well," said Mr. Sharp, "have you made out to collect anything on those bills?" "Yes," said Peter. "Did you though? How much ?" said Sharp. "I got them all," said Peter. "Oh, that's all a joke," said Sharp. "No, it isn't a joke," said Peter. "I've collected every doliar of them, and here's the money,” taking out his pocket book, and counting out the bills. Mr. Sharp received the money with the most perfect astonishment. He had not expected that one half of the amount would ever be collected. He counted out the commissions on the ten per cent. list, and then the commissions on the twenty-five per cent. list, and handed the sum over to Peter. And then he counted out fifty dollars more, and asked Peter to accept that as a present; "partly," said he "because you have accomplished this task so very far beyond my expectations, and partly because my acquaintance with you has taught me one of the best lessons of my life. It has taught me the value of perseverance and punctuality. I have reflected upon it much ever since you undertook to board out the bill for the magazine at my house." "Why, yes," said Peter, "I think perseverance and punctuality are great helps in the way of business." "If every person in the community," said Mr. Sharp, "would make it a point to pay all of his bills promptly, the moment they become due, what a vast improvement it would make in the condition of society all round. That would put people in a condition, at all times, to be able to pay their bills promptly." We might add, that Peter Punctual afterward opened a store in the city, in a branch of business which brought Mr. Sharp to be a customer to him, and he has been one of his best customers ever since, paying all of his bills promptly, and whenever Peter requires it, even paying in advance. A TALE OF NATICK. THE RETURN OF YOUTH. BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. My friend, thou sorrowest for thy golden prime, Of cheerful hopes that filled the world with light, Stopes downward to the place of common sleep; Yet grieve thou not, nor think thy youth is gone, There shall he welcome thee, when thou shalt stand Through the fair earth to lead thy tender feet. Shall clothe thy spirit with new strength, and fill Hast thou not glimpses, in the twilight here, Of mountains where immortal morn prevails? That sweep the ambrosial groves of that bright shore, 191 that godliness is profitable as it respects the life that now is, as well as in regard to the hope which it inspires of a happier life to come. By these means, under Divine Providence, in the course of a few years he had the satisfaction of seeing a number of "praying towns," inhabited by the children of the forest. The principal of these was Natick. Here the rude wigwam was succeeded by the decent framed house; the apple-tree took place of the trees of the wood; grain waved in the rays of the sun, where not long before, stood a wilderness impervious to his beams, and domestic flocks and herds grazed in the open pastures, where but lately the wild beasts of the forest alone were wont to prowl for prey. A school for instruction in reading, writing, and arithmetic was founded on the spot, where ignorance and indolence had recently reposed. Prayer, praise and thanksgiving were heard to ascend to the Father of all good, in the spirit of joyful hope, where, ere-while, the diabolical porrow was howled forth to the imaginary father of evi', through a servile and soul-degrading fear. In the sacred though lowly chapel, the duties of Christianity were taught, and its holy rites administered, and many of the red men walked in its commandments and ordinances blameless. Such was the condition of this settlement, when a respectable English family moved into it and fixed their residence among the aborigines. The father and his sons were competently skilled in the trade of the carpenter, mason, smith, and cordwainer; the mother and daughters, in knitting, spinning, weaving, and making garments. In addition to these employments, this family cultivated a farm and managed a dairy. They were of essential service in assisting the devout and philanthropic Eliot, not only by exhibiting before their neighbors examples of piety, virtue, industry and economy, but by instructing them in the most necessary and useful arts. In church, in school, and in their daily occupations, they mingled with the natives on the footing of perfect equality. At this time there resided at this place a native, but little past the age of twenty years, whose form was that of manly beauty, for which the aboriginal Ameri LET not the reader pass over the following story because it has not a taking title. It is full of deep in-cans were so justly celebrated. He had been for a con terest. A TALE OF NATICK. THE events connected with the history of our fathers cannot fail to interest the reader; and he will I doubt not feel amply repaid for the perusal of the following "plain unvarished tale" of facts. The indefatigable, and, in many instances successful, labors of the apostolic Eliot, in civilizing and christianizing the Indians of Massachusetts, are very generally known and highly appreciated. He, in fact, adopted the only rational method for the accomplishing of his purpose. It was a favorite maxim with him, that "the savage must be in a good degree civilized, before they can be evangelized." Hence he fed them at first with the sincere milk of the word, instead of such strong meat, as the most metaphysical mind can with difficulty digest. By collecting together a number of families in permanent habitations, by teaching them how to construct more comfortable dwellings, than those to which they had been accustomed, by instructing them in agriculture, orcharding, and some of the most important of the mechanic arts, and by inducing them to understand and obey the more plain and practical precepts of the gospel, he made them feel siderable time a pupil of Eliot and an inmate of his family. He had adopted the English costume and In his person and dress he was remarkably manners. neat and tasteful, and in his deportment graceful and prepossessing. He had studied, with considerable success, several of the liberal arts and sciences, was well instructed in the doctrines and duties of Christianity, and, as he gave abundant evidence that he had embraced this religion with his whole heart, Eliot was now employing him as school-master and occasional preacher among the lost sheep of his tribe. Civilization had not rendered him effeminate; for he retained all his native vigor, and might justly be said to have gained the true object of education, that is, "the pos session of a sound mind in a sound body." In addition to his other qualifications he, was skillful in the use of all the simples, known in his nation to be efficacious in the cure of diseases; and was not unfrequently called upon as a physician, by the white people in the neighboring towns, as well as by those of his own color in the place of his nativity. Feeling unbounded gratitude toward Eliot, his spiritual guide and father, his frienship was very naturally extended to all the white people, with whom he became A TALE OF NATICK. But all these exertions drew nothing from the unfortu nate girl but sighs and tears. acquainted. He very naturally felt a peculiar attachment to the only white family in his native village, whom he frequently visited; and, in process of time, he very naturally felt for their eldest daughter, Lydia, about his own age, a somewhat more powerful passion than friendship. Nor is it wholly unnatural to suppose that Lydia, who seldom saw any young man of her own complexion, should at least respect the good But a few days elapsed, ere another kind of trouble qualities of one, whose skin was some shades darker fell upon her and the rest of the inhabitants of that illthan her own. In reality, both felt a growing attach-fated town, in which she resided. At day-break they ment to each other, though both were sensible of the were roused from their slumbers by the tremendous inexpediency, if not impropriety of cherishing it. war-whoop of the savage enemy; most of their buildThe increasing mutual fondness of these young per-ings were reduced to ashes; a large number of the peosons could not long escape the penetrating eye of ple were slaughtered; and many were led captive into Lydia's watchful mother, who, together with her father, the wilderness. Among the latter were Lydia and her reprimanded her severely, and took measures entirely uncle and aunt. to prevent in future the visits of Bran, which was the name of our hero. His parents also felt that natural aversion to intermarriages, which is in a great degree prevalent among all nations, even of the same color; and they used their most strenuous exertions to direct the affections of their son to a more suitable object. What were the feelings, on this occasion, of the two lovers, (for so I may as well denominate them at once,) I leave the reader to imagine; or, if he or she insist on a description of them, one may be found in almost any play, novel or romance, that is worth a perusal. I proceed with my narrative. The news of this disaster reached Bran and his associates, in the course of the day, and he instantly resolved to rescue his beloved Lydia, or perish in the attempt. He disappeared from the garrison, exchanged his English dress for the costume of the savage warrior; painted his face in the most terrific style; supplied himself with the best of arms and ammunition; and filled his pack with a plenty of provision, not forgetting a purse of money and a large flask of occapee, the Indian name for rum, well knowing the power of both, either in savage or civilized society. Thus provided, he steered immediately for the Wachuset, having learned from spies, some weeks before, that the general rendezvous of the enemy was in the neighborhood of that mountain. In a few days Lydia was taken ill with a fever. An English physician was sent for, who came and prescribed, but without effect. Another was called in for consultation. Still she grew worse, and at length was By rapid traveling the whole of the succeeding night, declared past recovery. At this solemn period, the and till late in the afternoon of the following day, most parents were advised to consult Bran, who had been of the way through a pathless wilderness, he began to frequently successful in difficult cases. In that state ascend the Wachuset. Having arrived at such a of desperation, in which a drowning man catches at a height, as enabled him to overlook the surrounding straw, her parents consented. He came and prescrib-country to a considerable extent, he halted to take a ed; the fever speedily left her; and she gradually re- survey; and immediately discovered, at the distance of covered her former state of health, strength and vivacity. two or three miles, the smoke, high curling from the Indian encampment. He here seated himself upon a log, resolving to take some rest and refreshment, of which till now he had scarcely thought, since the commencement of his expedition. He watched and listened with intense anxiety. In less than half an hour he heard, at the distance of a mile or more from the camp, a most dismal funeral howl of hundreds of human voices, which was responded by an innumerable multitude stationed in the reverberating forest. This, arose from the party just returned from Medfield, and was repeated as many times as they had lost warriors in the assault. To these horrible howlings succeeded the triumphant yells of the savages, according to the numbers they had butchered and brought away captive; and these, too, were echoed from the rendezvous with astounding vociferation. 182 Which had the greatest efficacy in her restoration, the company and conversation of the physician, or the simples, which he prescribed as medicine, I will not undertake to determine. Certain it is, that, during his visits he found an opportunity to declare his strong and unalterable affection for his patient, and she to declare that, as she owed her life to him, the remainder of it should be devoted to the promotion of his happi ness. At this time King Phillip's war was raging, and the English inhabitants, being jealous that the "praying Indians" would join their enemics, barbarously seized them, and hurried them down to an island in the harbor of Boston, where they were closely confined and carefully guarded. Bran, with a few others, were permitted to remain at home, and assist in guarding the garrison of Lydia's father; but her parents still persisting in their opposition to her tender regard for him, immediately on the restoration of her health, sent her to Medfield, to reside with her uncle and aunt, who had no children; hoping that, by uniting with those of her own nation only, her unhappy predilection would be overcome. Here her friends made use of every expedient they could devise, to induce her to transfer her affections. At one time they assailed her with the most serious expostulations; at another attacked her with sarcastic raillery. Among other things, such doggrel as the following was handed round among her young associates: "Fair Lydia thinks it right, The red rose and the white." "Sure Lydia would live on the cheapest plan, By the time these hideous noises had subsided, night overspread the dense forest, and no objects were visible, excepting the gloomy light of the watch-fires, which dimly shone among the towering ever-greens. A feast was speedily prepared with the spoils they had taken, and a large portion of the night was made hideous with noisy riot and reveling. Bran now matured his plan of operation for the morning. He determined to use that treachery, which, by savages, is called stratagem, and, by civilized nations, policy in war. He resolved to appear among the enemy at sunrise, to declare himself a deadly foe to the white men, to enlist with those who desired their extermination, and to A TALE OF NATICK. watch a favorable opportunity to desert with the object conditions. His proposal was eagerly accepted, and of his fondest affection. the captives delivered into his custody. He would gladly have purchased more of them, but feared that, by attempting too much, he should meet with a disastrous disappointment. At dawn of day he moved towards the camp, and at sunrise presented himself before it. The first object that met his eye, was a lovely white female tied to a stake, surrounded with dry combustibles. At a short distance stood, spectators of the horrid scene, a group of despairing, heart-broken captives. Around, in smaller and larger circles, the savages were dancing and shouting with the frenzied ferocity of demons. At the sight of Bran all became instantly still and silent. A chief approached and conducted him within the inmost circle of warriors, in the centre of which the wretched victim was bound to the stake, ready to be sacrificed by lingering tortures to relentless cruelty. The victim was Lydia. Bran instantly knew her; but he was so disguised by dress and painting, that it was impossible for her to recognize him. As far as in his power he concealed and suppressed his agonizing sensations, and addressed the warrior chiefs, in their own language, to the following effect: "BROTHERS-I have been deceived. I thought the white men the children of the great and good spirit; but I have found them to be the spawn of Hobomok. Their religion is made of good words and bad deeds. They say they love Indians; but they only covet the land of Indians. I and all my tribe have been friends of white men; we are now their foes. The white men have made prisoners of my father, mother, brothers, sisters, friends. I hunger after revenge. I thirst for white men's blood. I take hold of the same tomahawk with you. Brothers-I know the young woman at the stake. Give her up to me. Let me be her torturer. Let her blood in part allay the burning thirst, that is consuming my vitals. I know some of the other captives. Let me torture them. It will increase their torment to know that it is inflicted by me. "Brothers-I have done. My heart is yours already. Will you accept my hand to help you to annihilate the white men?" This talk was received with loud shouts of approbation, and Bran was adopted as a chief. Lydia was given up to his disposal. While he was releasing her from the stake, he informed her who he was, what was his object, and how she must conduct herself. He told her he must appear to treat her with severity, in presence of the Indians, and that she must quietly submit, the better to conceal their intention to desert. Having unbound her, he carried her fainting to a wigwam, which was appropriated to his use, spread his blanket on the ground, placed her upon it and administered cordials and other refreshments, which he had brought with him, and which soon revived her. He now learned that the cause of her sentence to the torture was her endeavoring to escape from captivity; and that the rest of the prisoners were forced to be spectators of the sacrifice, to deter them from a similar attempt. 183 Bran's next object was to get Lydia's uncle and aunt into his possession. For this purpose he invited to his wigwam the three Indians, who captured Lydia and her relatives, and consequently claimed them as their property. Here, after telling them, in her hearing, how he meant to torture her and her relations, if he could gain possession of them, he made a handsome present in money to her late master, and the still more grateful donation of a genorous dram of occapee; offering at the same time, to trade with the other two on the same The three Indians having retired, well satisfied with his treatment of themselves and the prisoners, he gave the latter brief directions how to behave, and then invited the principal chiefs to a council of war. He told them, that the white men knew where they were, and that on the next day a numerous and powerful army would attack them. He advised them, therefore, to send off, towards Connecticut river, the old men, women, and children, and that the stout and brave warriors should remain where they now were, to give the Englishmen battle. His plan was approved, and preparations immediately made to carry it into execution. It was proposed that small guards should be placed on all sides of the camp, and that the main body should sleep on their arms. As Bran's wigwam was one of the outermost, and barricaded with logs, it was designated as one of the guard-houses, and his company was appointed as one of the guards. At dark, Bran planted his sentinels, in a line with the guard-house, on each side of it, at a considerable distance from it and from each other, promising to relieve them at midnight, by those, who were to sleep at his quarters till that time. A death-like silence now prevailed throughout the camp, when Bran drew forth his flask of occapee, having previously infused into it a strong decoction of soporific herbs, and treated his joyous soldiers to a dram, which speedily laid them asleep for the night, They might now have easily destroyed the sleeping foemen; but, knowing that their death would be avenged by the destruction of at least an equal number of their captive countrymen, they permitted them to sleep unmolested. The desired hour of escape had now arrived. No time was lost. Bran slung his pack, replenished with provisions, and seized his trusty rifle. The uncle did the same with the best supplied pack and the best rifle and accoutrements, belonging to the Indians. The aunt and neice took each a brace of pistols and suitable ammunition, which the Indians had recently plundered from the English. Bran moved forward, Lydia and her aunt followed rank entire, and her uncle brought up the rear. Their homeward march was rapid, being quickened by the most animating hope and most appalling fear. Daylight found them among the ruins of Lancaster. Here they secreted themselves among the rubbish in the cellar of a house, that had been demolished, with most of the buildings in that town, but a few weeks before. As it happened, however, their fear of being pursued was groundless; for so soon as the Indians discovered that Bran had deserted with his white associates, and that their companions in arms were in a sleep, from which they could not rouse them, they were struck with a panic. They concluded that he was a sorcerer, and that it would be in vain to pursue him. Fearing also that an English army might be on the way to meet them, they hastily decamped, leaving the sleeping guard, should they ever chance to wake, to follow them and explain the mystery of their enchantment. Bran and his companions lay concealed the whole of the day, and at night set forward with renewed vigor and alacrity. They traveled all night; and the next |