of a statue-like sentinel, or some other trivial occur- from her deck, supported by a set of standing rigging rence broke upon the spell. It was during one of these intervals, when, scarcely a breath was stirring, that the houses by the water's edge were shook by a violent concussion and then the report of a heavy piece of ordnance echoed through the town. Instantly every window which afforded the slightest glimpse of the harbor, was thronged, and multitudes hurried along the, until now, deserted streets. The wharves were peopled with the town's-folks, of whom not one could answer the oft repeated inquiry as to the cause of the alarm. Ten minutes had elapsed from the first discharge, when a bright flash issued from a craft in the direction of Staten Island, and a second report rolled up heavily over the water; and at the same time a lantern rose from her deck to the mast-head and another to her peak. "Can'st make her out," cried a dozen voices to a seaman who had mounted a hogshead for better observa chant. strained as taut as a bow string, and the running rigging, ropes and lines hung from mast to mast and spar to spar, forming most graceful curves and festoons. Every sail was formed of snow white canvass, and as the distance from the town gradually lessened, one after the other was clewed up and bound to the yards, until when, obedient to her helm, she swung around at two cable's length from the wharf, not a rag of canvass was visible at any point. "For'ard there," sounded the command from the quarter deck, "let go the chain achor." Instantly the chain rattled through the hause-hole and splash! sunk the heavy anchor into the water; at the same instant another discharge from one of the guns of the craft, broke upon the stillness, a rocket with its train of vivid fire rose hissing into the air, and then the broad blue field and red cross of Britain was sent flying to her mast head. "Who is she-where from and what is her errand?" were questions repeated again and again by those ashore but without eliciting the slightest satisfactory answer. She was None knew her name, her country or errand. not a merchantman. She carried too many guns and was withal of too war-like an appearance for a peacea None ble trader. Yet she could not be of the navy. were expected. These and similar other conjectures puzzled the brains of the curious spectators in vain.—— There lay the brig before them, and from the moment of the flight of the rocket, not the slightest For a long appearance of life was witnessed by them. time they remained upon the wharf hoping some boat would put off from her that would solve the mystery with which she was enshrouded, but to no purpose, no "Look sharp-a white ground with a blue ball boat came, and seeing that the entire night bid fair to and-" "I tell you no," interrupted the seaman impatiently, "such a pretty bird of the ocean can never belong to the house of Vanderheen and company. Are you in your senses, man, see you not that if occasion needs she is one that can run races with the wind, and the stiffest hurricane can never compel the swiftest lugger of your line, to log more than two knots an hour." A boisterous laugh from all who heard this sally, somewhat abashed the merchant, who shrunk back among the crowd and contented himself with speculating in his own mind upon the probable character of the strange vessel. The brig whose appearance had caused this undue excitement on shore, was now slowly moving up to the town. She was of that class now known as berma phrodite, of about a hundred-and-fifty tons burthen, a kind of craft but little known and still less used at that period; yet to those who were at all acquainted with the build of vessels it must have been obvious that a more conve nient bark as regarded both sailing and carrying could scarcely have been constructed. Every part exhibited the most faultless symmetry. She sat upon the water like a swan. Her bow was sharp and tapered off to a clean run. Two slender and somewhat raking masts, crossed by slight yards at their respective distances, rose be spent in fruitless suppositions, one by one of those who had been drawn thither through curiosity, left the wharf, and in a short time it was as deserted as it had been at the moment when the first gun of the stranger called the citizens forth. It was just midnight, when a small boat, which was suspended at the stern of the vessel was lowered into the water, and instantly manned by four seamen. Shortly after, a person who seemed by the deference paid him to be one in command, stepped upon the gunwale. He balted, and his eye glanced from his own vessel to the town and to the brig of war, and from thence it wandered quickly from one object to the other in every direc tion. "Give way, men," said he, in a low tone, seating himself in the stern sheets apparently satisfied. "Whither." "The Governor's landing," was the answer. The boat shot out from the dark counter of the brig and gained the current. For an instant only the men poised their oars, and then with long and steady strokes swept toward the town. Lay upon your oars," said the leader, in the same cautious tones, as the boat struck her bow upon the stone steps, and he stepped ashore, "lay off, and ba careful you get into no quarrels with these brawling is in readiness, and I but wait for my papers and a Dutchmen-shove away!" As the boat backed into the stream he raised his eyes and suffered them to rest upon the light hull and rigging of his own vessel, and then turning abruptly away, walked up the landing with hasty steps. In one of the largest mansions of the town, in a room used for the purposes of a library, the Earl of Bellamont, was striding impatiently to and fro. His arms were folded, his eyes fixed intently upon the ground and his whole manner argued but ill concealed discontent. Upon the table, scattered in negligent confusion, lay a number of papers, and conspicuous among the rest was a small package strongly tied and sealed with the arms of Bellamont. "Twelve o'clock !" exclaimed the Earl, pausing in the middle of his steps, as the tones of the church clocks chiming the midnight hour, sounded through the room; "curses on his dilatory movements when so much is at stake-five hours have gone by and yet I have not seen him. I warrant he is now carousing in some tavern, perchance brawling in the streets, when he should be upon the sea. Strange, I may have been mistaken," he continued, advancing and throwing open a window that looked upon the harbor, "yet, no-it is the sameit must be the Vengeance. There glimmers the signal at the mast head and peak-and the rocket-why does be tarry?" A hand was laid lightly upon his shoulder, and a voice which was not unknown to him, exclaimed: "Earl Bellamont." 'Welcome, Captain Kyd, right welcome," answered the Earl, turning and offering his hand familiarly to the Bucaneer. "By my coronet, I had given up all hopes of seeing you, or else I had thought myself mistaken. It was indeed then, the ordnance of the Adventure Galley that echoed through the town at dark." "Say rather of the Vengeance," answered Kyd. "But Vengeance, no longer," replied the Earl, with a smile. "You must change these cut-throat titles. King William would well nigh go crazy did he dream that he employed a craft with such a blood-thirsty name. But come, we must not dally in idle words. What detained you so long? Why came you not hither immediately upon anchoring?" "To say the truth," replied the Bucaneer, "I have been in New-York before, and there are those with whom I care not to renew acquaintance. I therefore waited until the lateness of the hour should effectually shield me from the danger of recognition." "It is well, and, indeed, I know not but wisely," rejoined the Earl, "for should our plans miscarry, none need know that the Adventure Galley has ever been within our harbor. Whence came you last?" breeze," replied the Bucaneer. "To-morrow, if it please you, I'll spread my canvass, and trust me, ere I again anchor this side of the Narrows, I shall have won such renown, that Fame will have bruited my name from one end of the known world to the other." "I believe you, Kyd," rejoined the Earl, impressively. "I know you are possessed of a daring soul, which no danger or hardship can awe. I know that if once roused, there is that in your bosom that will make even devils pale with envy, but I pray you keep your temper in subjection, and above all, forget not your allegiance to your King. How think you the name of Robert Kyd would grace the commission of a frigate -ay, as its commander." A smile forced itself upon the lips of the Bucaneer, as he could not help evincing his satisfaction at the prospect of having a man of war committed to his charge. "You are silent as though you doubted it," continued the Earl, arguing a different conclusion from the seaman's silence. "Believe me, I am in earnest. Should you return successful-and whether you do or not, rests with yourself-none shall be more richly and honorably rewarded than you. You shall walk our streets, and figure at the court of royalty, the envy of the envied. Wealth shall be at your command, and the highest veterans of Britain's navy shall be proud to serve under one who has rendered his country such essential servicethat of ridding its seas of the vultures that prey upon its commerce. The Union-jack shall be lowered in courtesy to your flag, and the name of Robert Kyd shall be a watch-word and battle-cry to strike terror into the ranks of piracy and crime." The countenance of the Bucaneer grew pale and flushed by turns, as the Earl held out these inducements, and as he ceased speaking he grasped his hand, exclaiming "I will-by Heaven it shall be as you say. My banner shall carry death wherever it goes, they shall hear my name with trembling, and the guns of the Vengeance shall be to them a scourge more devastating than the plague. Give me my papers; to-morrow shall begin a new era in my life." To-night-this very hour, must you sail," said the Earl, giving the package sealed with his arms. "You must away before it is known that you have been among us. Nay-look not so. I know that the Vengeance has been in these waters before, and were the commander of yonder brig that now lies so supinely upon the sleeping bay, to know that the smuggler was now within range of his guns, rest assured not even your commission would save you unscathed." "He would find that for every shot he gave, two would be returned," replied Kyd, fiercely. "By Sa "From Plymouth, and now bound in quest of adven- thanus, I have almost a mind to run my brig along-side ture." and give him a parting salute. But no, my fire must be reserved for those that make the most resistance. "In this package," continued Bellamont, " "Whither go you first ?" inquired the Governor. "To the Indian Ocean." you will "Are you all prepared to sail? Do you lack any find two commissions. One authorising you to use all thing?" means in your power-of peace or war-of treaty or the "Nothing. My bark is in perfect trim; every thing force of arms, to extirpate the gang of pirates and des peradoes therein named. The other is a letter of commission for reprisals. With this, you are to capture, sink, burn or destroy every thing that comes in your|| way appertaining to the French flag, but by no means are you to deviate, in the least, from your track. You are now in possession of your instructions-great trust is reposed in you, and I beseech you betray it not. Use your power discreetly-and now farewell." Once more he extended his hand to the Bucaneer, who received it, and pressed it to his lips, then grasping the package, left the house, and the next moment the sound of his footsteps died away in the distance. A few hasty steps brought him to the landing, and signing to the boat's crew to shove in and receive him, he stepped aboard, and a single stroke sent it far into the channel. " 'Any signs of a breeze," said Kyd, to the one who sat next to him. "There is a nor'wester beating to quarters aloft," answered the seaman, "and by the next watch, if we put to sea, we shall have the spray under our bows flying like a cataract." "A dozen good swords to back me, and I'd carry that brig's deck in spite of her teeth," exclaimed Kyd. "Ha! to your oars, men-pull, and send us clear of ber." "Boat, ahoy!" hailed a voice from the brig. "Bend on, hearties," exclaimed Kyd. As no answer being returned, the summons was again repeated. "Sweep us aboard the Vengeance in the least possible time. I'm in no mood to answer the cry of every bully that chooses to hail us. Dash away, we are almost aboard." A dozen strokes more, and the boat shot in under the counter of the Vengeance, and in another moment, was hanging at its accustomed berth. All was bustle and activity aboard the cutter as soon as its commander touched the deck. The courses were set, the topsails and lighter sails loosed, the massy anchor came slowly up from its ocean bed, and the graceful bark feeling the influence of the land breeze, careered, for a moment, upon her side, and then upright, like a being of the sea, slowly cut her path through the dancing waters that were washing her form. A bright flash shot over the surface of the harbor, the roar of a gun boomed heavily, and then a whizzing shot from the brig of war came skipping through the rigging of the Vengeance, cutting the fore topsail halliard in twain. "For'ard, there," shouted the commander. "Spring aloft a dozen of you, and secure the fore tops'l. Lively, lively, and then we'll have revenge. Load every gun along the leeward bulwarks, and light your matches. All ready, there ?" 'Ay, ay, sir." "Then down with the helm, and lay us along-side." Obedient to the command, the cutter, was instantly brought in close contact with the brig. "Fore and aft," shouted the trumpet-toned voice of Kyd. "Stand to your guns. Depress the pieces, and sweep the deck. Gun for gun, and shot for shot. Fire!" A dozen flashes lit up the narrow space between the two brigs-a dozen of the cutter's pieces bellowed forth their contents upon her antagonist's deck, and long ere the vast clouds of smoke had rolled to leeward, the Vengeance was heading rapidly toward the narrows. All are familiar with the subsequent actions of the renowned rover. It is well known how deeply he imbued his hands in bloodshed and rapine, ere justice overtook him in his short but criminal career. Years upon years have rolled away, but still he is not forgotten. Legends and tales, fearful and marvellous, connected with his memory, have been multiplied in every variety of form, and spread to the utmost corners of the earth. Well, too well, did he redeem his pledge to the Earl of Bellamont, for his name was, indeed, bruited from one end of the known world to the other, but associated with deeds of such frightful hues, that the bare relation would well nigh chill a stoic's blood with horror. BORASMUS. Original. TO LITTLE MAY VINCENT. BY FRANCES S. OSGOOD. My wee-bit, bonny, blue-eyed May! That does not mind my heart of thee. That falters from those lips of thine. When on the floor the sunshine plays, And creeps to lift its mocking rays. Ah, May! be still a child in this, Through life, amid its gloom and bliss, Though clouds of care be all about, Those eyes will find the sunshine out, Then pass the shade with Hope's delight, And only play where Joy is bright. I HAVE always been taught, and firmly to believe, that money is the root of all evil;" I say money, without the qualification of the love of it; for the having of the one always implies the other. I thus believe; but I never saw the truth of the thing so thoroughly illustrated as lately, in the case of poor Joseph Lowell, or more familiarly, Joe Lowell. And here let me pause a moment over my story, by way of moral, just to remark how much better and more considerate Fortune is, than we, ourselves, are apt to be, in these matters. Those to whom money is denied, are apt to fret, and fume, and regard themselves as extremely ill-used, when, in fact, she has treated them with the greatest possible kindness, just as the good parent withholds the sugar-plum, that might produce worms, nausea, and all sorts of derangement. For myself, I feel a pride in regarding myself as a particular favorite in this respect, and am full of compassion for my poor neighbors, who are so vulgarly blest with the goods of this world, thereby losing much of the dignity of virtue, its superiority to circumstance, and its philosophic spirit of endurance. But to my story. Joe had, formerly, been a footman in a rich family in New-York; with high wages, and little to do, except to open the carriage door for the ladies, and ring the bells at the princely dwellings of those upon whom they chose to call, and then ride up and down Broadway, swaying back and forth with the motion of the carriage, and smiling and bowing to the pretty chambermaids that put their heads out of the windows to attract his observation; all the time holding lightly by the back of the carriage, and standing very straight, thus to exhibit his handsome form to the best advantage, with his laced hat and coat, and shapely leg, and smart-looking shoes. At home, his labors were more onerous, consisting of heavy charges upon the larder, and plunging to the bottom of glasses and winebottles, for his master was a "whole-souled man," and scorned the meanness of looking after these things, especially as he could always dismiss a servant, when his visage was becoming too rubicund to be a credit to his establishment. Joe, in the course of events, was, of course, presented with his walking ticket; but not until he had united his destiny with that of Jane Gould, a pretty eastern girl, who had been nurse in the family. Jane was well aware of the faults of Joe; but when does a woman calculate in matters of the heart? She loved him, and believed that love would work wonders in the way of reformation. And so it did for a while. Joe overcame his disinclination to labor, so far as to purchase a horse and cart, intending to live by carrying goods from one part of the city to the other. Jane, who was modest and active, had saved her wages, so that now she could hire three rooms on the second floor of a house, pay the quarter's rent in advance, and furnish it neatly, and even tastefully, for she had an air of natural gentility about her, and had learned the best of every thing in the families in which she had lived; leaving what was doubtful or evil-just as the wild bee extracts honey from herbs in themselves deadly in their poisona simile, which I trust my readers are prepared to appreciate, as well for its beauty as originality, After the lapse of a year or two, Joe's old habits returned, and his cart was oftener seen standing at the door of a porter-house, than backed up to a ware house; then he began to complain of the dullness of the times, and that he should have to change his business. Jane gently remonstrated, urged him to persevere, softly, with a trembling voice, and tears in her eyes, hinted at the probable cause; held her baby to his lips, and implored him to be all that a father should be to the poor innocent. Joe grew sulky, swore, and pushed her one side; and the next day, sold his horse and cart at half price, just, as he said, to show he wouldn't be dicta ted to. Poor Jane saw the proceeds go, day after day, in foolish expenditure, while her husband spent his time in idleness and drinking, and returned, at night, a sot and a brute, to tyranize over herself and child. Love is not the result of excellencies in the object, made up of admiration of the good and noble of those we love; if so, it were an ephemeral growth, dying with the sunlight; but it is an instinct, springing from the depths of a woman's heart, and clinging to its object long after all that should foster its growth has gone to decay; it lives there, it may be, in the memory of for mer happiness, and the agony of sorrow but drives the roots of its affection deeper into the heart. Thus it was with Jane; diligently did she labor, and husband her little store, for she saw the black cloud gathering, that must wreck her all of life and hope. Joe had ceased to provide for the necessities of his family, and now all devolved upon herself; and when he returned at night, there was always the tea at the fire, and some delicacy reserved for himself, and the patient smile of his wife to make the best of every thing. It was the first day of May, when all the New York world is expected to move. Jane had engaged this year rooms in a basement, for she was too feeble to climb to the attic and could not afford the rent of the medium floors. She was busy packing their little furniture, and Joe stood at the corner with both his hands in his A pockets, a cigar in his mouth, and his back against the lamp post, watching the tumult in the street, the passing and repassing of loads, the smashing of glass and china, the dislocation of chairs and the wreck of tables. smart gig drove along, and the gentleman reined up where Joe was standing. It was his old master; and a sudden consciousness of his "loafer"-like, (we must use the word, it is so expressive for the meridian of our story,) appearance made Joe feel so sheepish, that he was on the point of dodging the corner; but the gentleman without comment, asked him if he was out of employ and would like a job. Joe assented. "Well," said the other, "we are about moving into our new house and if you'll take hold, I'll pay you five dollars for your day's work. You may go round soon as you choose." the lamp post in the morning. Joe thought, "had I more I might do something, but five dollars is nothing," so he went in and called for a glass of, I don't know what; but it drowned his reason-he called for more, and grew boisterous and quarrelsome. The owner of the shop attempted to put him out-Joe resisted-broke the tumblers, and a regular fight commenced, in which he was knocked upon the pavement, bleeding and senseless. In this situation he was carried home. The night was waxing late, and Jane was prepared for the worst. She did not shriek or faint, but quietly employed the means for his recovery. But his skull was fractured and he died the next day. Joe sauntered home and told Jane. Now she had so abandoned all hope of any help from Joe, that the bare mention of his earning five dollars was too much for her, and she burst into tears. He was sober that morning, for he had no money of his own, and he had still retained so much of manliness as to make him ashamed to take the earnings of his wife to indulge his own vile appetites; so when Jane wept he understood the cause, and made a lazy resolution to do better in future. He went to earn his five dollars, and Jane, with the help of a girl whom she had befriended in teaching her to sew, and do other nice work, by which she could earn a good living, Thus is my point established. I say nothing about commenced moving herself, only hiring one load remo-porter-houses, temperance, or idleness, for I am not ved, carrying the rest in their arms, and in baskets. I met her once on her way-the sun was very powerful, and a rapid shower had just passed over, leaving the air motionless, the warin exhalations going up from the gutters with an almost suffocating heat, and loaded with impurity, and everybody looked old, care-worn, and dispirited, and there was poor Jane, and her young friend bending under their burdens, each with a load in one hand, and carrying a huge basket between them; and the little girl, terrified at the sights and sounds, clinging to the gown of her mother, now on one side, and now on the other, which ever way passengers came, impeding her steps, and increasing her fatigue and perplexity; added to this Jane's motion, reminded one of the "pretty swaying" walk of the mother of Cerdita, but the crowd went by unnoticing, for who would think of sentiment, or Shakspeare, in the case of a pale woman, bending under two burdens. Just as I passed, the child had come right in front of her mother clinging hold with both hands, and begging to be taken up. Jane sat down her load, and I heard her say in a low voice, as she wiped the face of her child, “Oh, God, I shall die!" I was sorry to hear even that, and yet it seemed wrung out by illness and fatigue. That night before eight o'clock, her little room was looking neat and quiet, and she had expended her last cent in providing a bit of meat for Joe after his day of labor, unmindful of herself who had toiled the hardest of the two. In the meanwhile Joe went through the work of the day with something of his former gaiety, and the sight of comfort and luxuries only to be secured by temperance and labor, helped on his good resolves. At night he received his cash and turned for home, thinking of Jane, of her delicate health and hard exertions; and then came up the image of her as he had once known her, and his heart smote him for his own cruelty. Then came plans as to what he should purchase with his money. He would procure any necessaries for Jane's approaching illness---he would buy himself a pair of shoes, and a hat-he would buy a load of wood, Jane a bonnet, or the child some clothing. The more he planned, the more their necessities pressed upon him, and the thought that where he had but five, they needed a hundred. His mind had just reached this conclusion, when he stood by the porter house where he had been supporting preaching a homily; but had not Joe obtained the money the root of all evil, he could not have gone to the porterhouse, he would not have broken the tumblers and made and of course his own head would not have been broken; and, he might have been to this day holding up the lamp post, and living upon his wife's labor. a row, Original. THE DEAD BOY! "For of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." WHY will ye weep! Your lovely babe has found And bathes his spirit in celestial light. 'Neath purer skies, than arch this 'vale of woe,' There crystal streams, with waters cool and bright, |