Newspaper Page Text
The Garden of the Heart.
Listen, children, to a story,
Which in simple rhymes I tell,
Os a little girl called Nora,
And a wicked little Nell.
Nora made a bed of flowers,
In a pretty garden plot—
Raked and sowed in morning hours,
Ere the sun was high and hot :
Planted seeds of morning-glory,
Johnny-jump-up, prince’s feather—
Rut t’would be too long a story,
All the seeds she got together,
Soon the plants came upward peeping;
Nora thought her work was done—
Gave her morning hours to sleeping
Left her flowers to rain and sun.
Wicked Nell, while Nora nestles
Lazily in bed of down,
Sows of cockles and of thistles,
Thickly all the garden round.
These, wide-spreading, choked and smothered,
All the tender little flowers ;
Nora, sorely vexed and bothered,
Grieved and wept each day, for hours ;
For instead of prince’s leather,
Johnny-jump-ups, morning glories,
Thistles, cockles, thick together,
Filled this garden plot of Nora’s !
Children’s hearts are little gardens,
Made for flowers of truth and love ;
But unless the heart has wardens,
Night and day, who faithful prove,
Foes will come, in hours unheeded,
Sowing thickly error’s seeds;
And the heart, unwatched, unweeded,
Will hut grow a crop of weeds.
Children, watch the wicked sowers ;
Pull the weeds out every day ;
Little hearts can bloom with flowers,
Only when they watch and pray.
Isaac Errett.
A Thrilling Adventure.
RT was about the year 1805
that I settled in Virginia,
near the falls of the Ka
nawha. The country at
that time was an unbroken
less. But few settlements
en made by the whites, and
ere so far apart as to render
. —. hopes of assistance in case
of an attack from hostile Indians, num
bers oi whom still infested the neighbor
hood. I lived there alone with my wife
for several months unmolested, and by
hint of perseverance, then young and
hardy, had succeeded in making quite a
clearing in the forest, which I planted
with corn, and which promised an abun
dant yield.
One morning, after w T e had dispatched
our tumble meal, and I just prepared to
venture forth upon my accustomed rou
tine of labor, my attention was arrested
the tinkling of a cow bell in tbe corn
field.
“ There,” said my wife, “the cow is in
the corn field.”
but the ear of the backwoodsman be
oomes by education very acute, especially
fi°m the fact that his safety often de-
BURKE’S WEEKLY.
pends upon the nice cultivation of that
sense. I was not so easily deceived. The
sound was repeated. “ That,” said I, in
reply to my wife’s remark, “ was not the
tinkle of a bell upon the neck of a cow,
but a decoy from some Indian, Avho wish
es to draw me into an ambush.”
Believing this to be the case, I took
down my old musket, and seeing that it
was properly loaded, I stole cautiously
around the field towards the spot from
which the sound seemed to proceed.
As I suspected, there in a clump of
bushes crouched an Indian, waiting for
me to appear in answer lo his decoy bell,
that he might send a fatal bullet to my
heart. I approached without discovering
myself to him until within shooting dis
tance, then raised my piece and fired.
The bullet sped true to its mark, and the
Indian fell dead
Not knowing but that he was accom
panied by others, I returned with all
speed to the cabin, and having firmly bar
ricaded the door, I watched all day for
the companions of the Indian I had killed.
To add to the danger and seeming hope
lessness of my situation, I discovered that
I had but one shot left, and if attacked
by numbers, I should be entirely in their
power. Determined to do the best with
the powder, I put it into the musket and
then waited for the approach of night,
feeling sure of an attack.
Niudit came at last. A beautiful moon
light it was, too, and favored me greatly,
as I would thereby be able to observe the
movements of the enemy as they ap
proached the cabin.
It was some two hours after nightfall,
and yet 1 had neither heard nor seen a
sign of the Indians, when suddenly I was
startled by the baying of my dog at the
stable. The stable stood a little to the
west of the cabin, and between the two
was a patch of clear ground, on which
the light of the moon fell unobstructed.
Judging from the noise at the stable that
they would advance from that direction,
I posted myself at the port hole on that
side of the cabin.
I had previously placed my wife on the
cross pole in the chimney, so that in case
our enemies effected an entrance into our
cabin, she might climb out through the
lower chimney and effect her escape. For
myself I entertained no hope; but deter
mined to sell my life dearly.
With breathless anxiety I waited at
the port hole. At length I saw them
emerge from the shadow of the stable,
and advance across the open ground to
ward my cabin. One —two —three
great heaven! six stalwart Indians, armed
to the teeth, and urged on by the hope of
revenge, and I alone to oppose them with
one charge of powder. My case was des
perate, indeed. With quick and stealthy
steps, in close, single file, they approach
ed, and were already within a few yards
of the house when a slight change in the
movement of the forward Indian changed
the position of the six, so that a portion
of the side of each was uncovered.
They were in range, and one aim would
cover all. Quick as thought I aimed and
fired. As the smoke .cleared way I could
hardly credit what my senses showed me
was the result of my shot. The fifteen
slugs with which I had loaded the mus
ket had done their work well; five of the
six Indians lay dead upon the ground, and
the sixth had disappeared.
Although no enemies were now in
sight, I did not venture forth until morn
ing. There la} T the bodies of the five In
dians undisturbed, together with the rifle
of the other. Securing the arms and am
munition of the fallen Indians, I followed
up the trail of the missing one until I
reached the river, beyond which point I
could discover no trace whatever. From
the amount of blood which marked his
trail, together with an unmistakable evi
dence that he had picked his way with
difficulty, I was led to believe that he
was mortally wounded, and in order to
prevent his body falling into the hands of
the white foe, he had groped his way to
the river, and thrown himself in the cur
rent which had borne it away.
The Indians had killed my cow, and
that, you may be assured, was no trifling
loss, yet in my gratitude for my escape
from the merodes savages, I would have
made greater sacrifices. I was well pro
vided by means of arms and ammunition
taken from the six Indians, in case of a
second attack, but this fortunately proved
to be my last adventure with the savages.
Not one of the band had escaped to tell
the tale and incite his brethren to re
venge the death of his comrades.
“Ah!” exclaimed the old man, while
the tears gushed from his eyes at the
memory of that eventful night, “ that
was a glorious shot —the best I e\ ei
made.”
Little things sometimes produce
great results. A drop of water a little
frosted will explode the mammoth rock
in twain, a match will fire a whole city,
and a little busy body gossip of a woman
with a little tongue and no brains will set
a whole neighborhood by the ears.
.
jgggr Many have been victorious in
great temptations, and ruined by little
ones.
151