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before she breathed her last. Having described its situation as accurately as she could to the soldier, who before he ventured forth peeped out to ascertain that no one was on the watchhe again raised her in his arms, and by her direction struck into a narrow lane skirting the bank of the river. Pursuing this road for about half a mile, he arrived at the foot of a small eminence, covered by a clump of magnificent beech-trees, and still acting under the guidance of the 'dying woman, whose voice grew more feeble each instant, he mounted this knoll, and from its summit took a rapid survey of the surrounding country. On the opposite bank of the river stood an old hall, while further on, at some distance, he could perceive through the trees the gables and chimneys of another ancient mansion.

“Raise me up,” said Elizabeth Orton, as he lingered on this spot for a moment. “In that old house, which you see yonder, Hulme Hall, I was born. I would willingly take one look at it before I die."

“And the other hall which I discern through the trees is Ordsall, is it not ?" inquired the soldier.

“It is," replied the prophetess. “ And now let us make what haste we can. We have not far to go;

and I feel I shall not last long."

Descending the eminence, and again entering the lane, which here made a turn, the soldier approached a grassy space, walled in on either side by steep sandstone rocks. Proceeding to the further extremity of this enclosure, after a moment's search, by the direction of his companion, he found, artfully concealed by overhanging brushwood, the mouth of a small cave. Creeping into the excavation, he found it about six feet high, and of considerable depth. The roof was ornamented with Runic characters and other grotesque and half-effaced inscriptions, while the sides of the rock were embellished with Gothic tracery, amid which the letters I. H. S. carved in ancient church text, could be easily distinguished. Tradition assigned the cell to the priests of Odin, but it was evident that worshippers at other and holier altars had more recently made it their retreat. Its present occupant had furnished it with a straw pallet and a small wooden crucifix fixed in a recess in the wall. Gently depositing her upon the pallet, the soldier took a seat beside her on a stone slab at the foot of the bed. He next, at her request, as the cave was rendered almost wholly dark by the overhanging trees, struck a light, and set fire to a candle placed within a lantern. After a few moments passed in prayer, the recluse begged him to give her the crucifix that she might clasp it to her breast. This done, she became more composed, and prepared herself to meet her end. Suddenly, as if something had again disturbed her, she passed her hand once or twice rapidly across her face, and then, as with a dying effort, started up, and stretched out her hands.

“I see him before them !” she cried. They examine him, --they adjudge him! Ah! he is now in a dungeon! See, the torturers advance ! He is placed on the rack-once-twice they apply the engine! Mercy! he confesses! He is led to execution. I see him ascend the scaffold !"

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“Whom do you behold ?" inquired the soldier.

“His face is hidden from me," replied the prophetess; “but his figure is not unlike your own. Ha! I hear the executioner pronounce his name. How are you called ?"

“GUY FAWKES,” replied the soldier.
“ It is the name I heard,” rejoined Elizabeth Orton.
And, sinking backward, she expired.

Guy Fawkes gazed at her for some time till he felt assured that the last spark of life had fled. He then turned away, and placing his hand upon his chin, was buried in deep reflection.

THE LETTER-BAG OF THE GREAT WESTERN.

BY SAM SLICK.

We have pleasure in here presenting our readers with a communication forwarded hy Sam Slick, through the ** Letter Bag of the Great Western(which by this time is open for delivery to the public).-[Epir.]

LETTER FROM A STOKER.

Last nite as ever was in Bristul, Captain Claxton ired me for to go to Americka on boord this steemer Big West un as a stoker, and them as follered me all along the road from Lunnun, may foller me there tuo if they liks, and be damned to em, and much good may it do them tuo, for priggin in England aint no sin in the States, where every man if free to do as he pleseth, and ax no uns lif neither, and wher there is no pelisse, nor constables, nor Fleets, nor Newgates, and no need of reforms. I couldn't sleep all nite for lafeing, when I thort ou they'd stare wen they eard i was off, and tuck the plate of Lord Springfield off with me, and they looking all round Bristul, and ad their panes for there trouble. I havent wurk so ard sinse I rund away from farmer Doggins the nite he was noked off his orse and made to stand, and lost his purs of munny as he got fur his corn, as I av sinse I listed for a stoker. Ime blest if it arnt cruelard wurk ear. I wurks in the cole ole day and nite, a moving cole for the furniss, which never goes out, but burns for ever and ever; and there is no hair ; it is so ot my mouth is eated, so that what I drinks, smox and isses as if it were a ort iron, and my

flesh is as dry as ung beef, and the only consholation I av is Ide a been ung beef in ernest if they ad a nabbed me afore I left Bristul, all owin to Bill Sawyer peachin on me. No wun would no me now, for I am as black as the ace of spades as was, and so is my shurt, and for clene shetes, how long wood they be clene and me in them; and my skin is cracked like roastid pig, when there be not fat enough to baste it, or yu to lazy to du it, which was often your case, and well you corhut for it to when I was out of sorts, which was enuf to vex a man ast risked his life to get it; and then my eyes is soar with dust as comes from the cole, and so stiff, I arent power to shute them, because they be so dry, and my mouth tasts sulfur always, as bad as them as go to the devil in earnest, as Sally Mander did. I have no peace at all, and will not be sorry when it's over; if i survive it, blow me if I will. I smells like

roste beaf, and the rats cum smelling round me as iv they'd like to have a cut and com agin, but they will find it a tuff business and no gravy, as the frenchman said who lived tuo hull weaks on his shuse, and dide wen he cum to the heles, which he said was rather tuo much; but i can't say I like their company a morsel more nor Bill Sawyerses, and blast me if I donte be even with him, if he comes to Americka, for that gud turn he did me in blowing on me for the silver wich if he adnt dun ide a bin living at my ease at ome with you, and may be married you, if you and the children ad behaved well, and showed yourselves wurthy of it; as it is i can't say whether we are to mete agin or not; but I will rite to you when I lands the plate, and let you no what my prospect is in my line in New York. Then my shuse is so ard, they brake like pycrust, and

my

clothes wat with wat cum'd out of me like rain at fust, and the steme that cums out like wise, which is oncredibill, and wat with the dust as cum out of the cole, is set like mortar, and as stiff as cement, and stand up of themselves as strate as a christian, so they do, and if I ad your and in my and it would melt like butter, and you that is so soft woud run away like a candle with a thief in it; so you are better off where you be than here till I cool down agin and cum tuo, for I'me blest if I woodn't sit a bed a-fire I'me so ort. This is orrid wurk for him as has more silver in his bag than arf the passengers as, and is used to do as little wurk as the best of them is. I've got urted in my cheek with a stone that busted arter it got red ort in the grate, and flew out with an exploshun like a busted biler; only I wish it had been water insted, for it would have been softer nor it was, for it was as ard as a cannun-ball, it noked down tuo of my teeth, and then noked me down, and made a smell like searin a 'orses tail with red ort irn, which is the cause of its not bleeding much, tho' it swelled as big as a turnip, which accashuns me to keep wun eye shut, as it's no use to open it when it's swelled all over it, for I can't sea. If that's the way peepul was stoned to death, as I've eared when I was a boy, when there was profits in religion, it must have been a painful end, as I no to my cost, who was most drowned holden my ed in a tub of water to squench the red ort stone, which made the water tuo ort to bear any longer, and wen I tuked it out it was tuo much eated to old in my and. My feet also looks like a tin cullundur or a sifter full of small oles, were the red ort sinders have burned into the bone. Them as node me wonce woodn't swear to me now, with a ole in my face as big as my mouth, that I adn't afore, and tuo back-teeth out, as I had afore, and my skin as black as ink, and my flesh like dride codfish, and my hare dride wite and frizzed with the eat like neager's, or goose fethers in ort ashes to make quills, and me able to drink a gallon of porter without wunce taking breth, and not fele it for ewaporation, and my skin so kivered with dust and grit, you could sharpen a knife on it, and my throte furred up like a ship’s biler, and me that cood scarcely scroudge thro' a windur, that can now pass out of a kee-ole, and not tear my clothes in the wards. Wun cumfut is, I was not see-sick, unless being sick of the see, for I have no licker in me; for whatever I eat is baked into pot py and no gravy, which cums of the grate eat in the furniss; and burns raises no blisters, for they ain't any watter inside to make

wun, only leves a mark, as the ort poker does on the flore; and wen my turn cums to sleap, it's no longer trying this side and then that, and then rolling back again, a-trying and not being able, for thinking and talking ; but sleap cums on afore I can ly down, and all the pelisse at Bo Street woodn't wake me no more than a corps, wen I am wunce down in ernest. If I wasn't in a urry, I'd stick them up with wurking like a orse in the mail, that runs day and nite and never stops. It woodn't be long 'afore I'de nock off a bolt, or skru, or nut, or sumthing of that kind, which ud cause them to let out steam and repair, which wood give half a day's rest to wun, but as it's the first and the last of my stokering, why the sunner there is an end to it the better. No man cood identical me with a safe conschience, and no perjury,so if the yankees spend their munny, as I ar hurd till sinse I tuck passage, on thur backs insted of carrying it in their pockets, i may return after a short alibi, to you and the children, which will depend on ou you aul up in time, and keaps out of Low cumpany; that is, barring accidents, for there is no noing what may appen, for them as carry booy nives behind the kapes of their cotes, and pistuls in their pockets, insted of pistoles, are ugly custumers, and a feller may find himself delivered of a mistake afore he noeth where he is, for they are apt to save the law a job are them nives, so they are, and I'de rather trust to a jug missing fire, or not hitting his man, anytime to side-arms, for them big wigs oftener ang fire than ang a man. They are bad things them cut and thrusts, for both sides, as Tom Hodge used to say, “He who stabbeth with his tung, is in no danger of being ung, but he who stabbeth with his nife is damned apt to lose his own life.” When

you

receive this litter go to Blackfriars to the swimmers, and in the four foot of the bed, in the left room in the garrit as I used to use when bisnis called, you will see the same oller is in your bed sted, and take the gold sneezer as is there, which will raise the wind; and be careful, as there is no noin' when we may meet, or whether I will av time to send you any Blunt or no, which will depend on how you conduct behind my back; i don't mene this by way of discouragement, but to int you are too fond of drink, and keeping company with needy mizlers, to kepe secrets for any wun without bringing him to the crap, and now that I'me in another wurld I expect you will give luse to your one inwenshuns, which will be the ruin of you yit, as well as of them as has the pleasure of your ackwaintance, in wich case you don't ear agin from me, and I luk for sum wun as nose how to place a proper valy on advice when they gets it, which wasn't your case for sum tim

gone. My present sitivation has all cum of not noing ou to be silent, or bill Sawyer cudn't av ruined me in my business; but never mind, it's a long lane that has no turn in it, as the chap sed to console himself in the tredmill. Remember me to Jim Spriggins, who is the primest ruffin cove I ever shared a swag with, tell him I'me no transport, tho' I'me bound over the watter, for I'me just visiting furrin parts as the gents do on account of havin lived too free at home, and that I ope to nap many a reader yet, of providence blesses our undertakings. So no more at present time from your loving friend,

Bill HOLMES.

FROM AN AMERICAN CITIZEN TO HIS FRIEND AT BANGOR. DEAR ICHABOD,

As I shall cut off to Harrisburg, Pa., to-morrow as soon as I land, and then preceed to Pittsville, Ma., I write you these few lines to inform you of the state of things in general, and the markets in particular. Rice is riz, tho’ the tobacco market looks black; cotton is lighter, and some brilliant specks have been made in oil. Pots hang heavy in hand, and pearls is dull. Tampico fustic is moderate, and campeachy a 37 50 4 mos. Whalebone continues firm. Few transactions have taken place in bar or pig, and iron generally is heavy. Hung dried Chili remain high, but Santa Marthas are flat. The banks and large houses look for specie, but long paper still passes in the hands of individuals and little houses in the city. This is all the news and last advices. But, dear Ich, what on airth are we coming to, and how will our free and enlightened country bear the inspection brand abroad? Will not our name decline in foreign markets? The pilot has just come on board and intimated that the vice-president, the second officer of this first of countries, was not received with due honour at New York. He says that the common council could not ask him to thread an agrarian band of Fanny Wright men, Offin men, Ming men, and all other sorts of men but respectable men, for he would have had to encounter a slough of Loco-Focoism, that no decent man would wade thro'. It is scarcely credible that so discreditable an event should occur in this

empire city, but it is the blessed fruit of that cussed tree of Van Burenism, which is rotten before it is ripe, and, unlike other poisonous fruit, is not even attractive in outward appearance, but looks bad, tastes bad, and operates bad, and, in short, is bad altogether. But of all the most appalling information I have received per this channel was that of the formation of twenty-four new hose companies." What,” said 1, "twenty-four new hose companies? Is the stocking business going ahead? Is it to cover the naked feet of the shoeless Irish and Scotch and English paupers, that cover with uncovered legs like locusts this happy land, or is it for foreign markets? Where does the capital come from? Is it a spec, or has it a bottom ?” "No," said he, shaking his head; “it is a dark job of the new lights, the Loco-Focos. To carry the election of chief engineer of the firemen, they have created twenty-four new companies of firemen, called hose companies, which has damped the fire, and extinguished the last spark of hope of all true patriots. It has thrown cold water on the old fire companies, who will sooner resign than thus be inundated. This is the way the radicals of England wanted to swamp the House of Lords by creating a new batch of Peers baked at once, though the persons for Peers were only half-baked or underdone; but they did not, and were not allowed to glut the market that way. How is it this stale trick should become fresh and succeed here in this enlightened land, this abode of freemen, this seat of purity, and pass current without one solid genuine ingredient of true metal ? It is a base trick, a barefaced imposition, a high-handed and unconstitutional measure. It is a paltry manæuvre to swindle the firemen out of their right of election. "Yes, Ich, the firemen is swamped, and the sun

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