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bite; and thenceforth, Mathew Mizzle adınitted the palate, than was obtained by Mathew Mizzle in the inference that dogs are apt to bite, under circum- course of his earlier investigations into the relative stances congenial to such dental performances. If qualities of solids and liquids. A spoonful of Cay. you doubt it, there's the mark.

enne pepper probably afforded him as much of surBurnee-burnee, baby,” are the notes of warning prise as any thing of the same portable compass. often heard in the nursery, when heated stoves be- The varied expressions of his countenance would come an object of interest to little human specimens have been a study to a Lavater. The opera-house just learning to creep. But “ burnee, burnee," con- never witnessed a dance more remarkable for force veyed no precise idea to the infantile Mizzle during and for expression; and if ever Mathew Mizzle was his preliminary locomotive operations; and in con- wide awake-wider than on any previous occasion, sonance with the impulses of his nature, he soon it was when he had seasoned himself highly with tried the stove in its most intense displays of caloric, Cayenne. It made Mathew piquant to a degree; and in this way determined that “burnee, burnee,” and something of the same kind might have been was unpleasant to the person, and injurious to the said of him when under the influence of mustard. costume and raiment of that person, to say nothing He was then the warmest boy anywhere about; and of its threatening dispositions toward the whole fully appreciated the cheering influence of “the establishment. “ Burnee, burnee," to the house, as castors"—he did not go upon castors for a long time well as “burnee, burnee," to the baby. And so also afterward, and never again to the same extent. as to lamps and candles—that they would " burnee' There was another source of trouble 10 Mathew too, was placed, painfully, beyond the impertinent Mizzle. His eyes proper were sharp enough; but reach of a doubt in minds of the most sceptic order. the knowledge they acquired was not sufficient to Mathew Mizzle can show you the evidences to this satisfy his devouring thirst for information, and there day, scored, as it were, upon the living parchment, fore much of his seeing was done with the tips of and engrossed in characters not to be misunderstood his fingers, or the grasp of his hands. He must touch upon the cuticular binding of his physical identity. every thing, and of course spoilt many things. Leave

It was useless, also, to place the little Mathew at him alone in the room for a moment, and he would the head of stairs, with information that any further open all the letters, peep into every drawer, smell at advance on his part would prove matter of injury. every unknown substance, displace your china, spuil How could he know until he had tried? Indeed, it your musical-box, climb up the piano-forte, and pull required several clear tumbles down an entire flight over the vases of flowers. If you did not hear a to satisfy his judgment on this point, and to imprint crash this time, do not flatter yourself. Some secret, it on his mind, through the medium of his bumpology, but equally important mischief has been acconithat the swiftest transition from one place to another, plished, though it may not be apparent for days. especially when effected by the downward move- The Mathew Mizzles always leave their mark; and ment, is not always the safest and the most agrecable. when a gun went off in his hands, the shot that fracBut afterward, none knew better than he what is lured the mirror rendered it fortunate that the mark meant by the word “ landing,” as applied to the stair- was only a mirror, as Mathew Mizzle roared with

“The Landing of Columbus" may be cele- terror at "the sound himself had made." brated in pictures; but Mathew Mizzle accomplished Mathew Mizzle, grown as he is now to man's landings that made very nearly as much noise as that estate, has perchance changed the objects of his pureffected by “the world-seeking Genoese," and the suit, but the activity both of his mind and of his body voyages of both were accompanied by squalls. remains undiminished. Curious as ever to ascertain

But it was not by the touch alone that Mathew facts. He is one of those who have ever an eye Mizzle sought after information in his earlier career. upon their neighbors. He follows people to ascerHis taste was equally curious. Strange bottles were tain whither they are going. It is a favorite amusesubjects of the most intense interest, so that like ment of his to peep through the blinds of an evening, Mithridates, he almost became proof against injury 10 ascertain what you and your family are about. He by the frequent imbibings of poison. He knew that listens at doors, and he peers through cracks and pleasant draughts came from bottles, but had to learn patronizes knot-holes. If he can learn nothing else, that because a bottle has contents, it does not neces- it is a satisfaction for him to ascertain what you are sarily follow that these contents are either safe or about to have for dinner, and who stopped in tơ tea agreeable. Ink, for instance-a copious mouthful of Speak over loud in the street, and Mathew Mizzle ink-however literary one may be, ink thus adminis- saunters close at your elbow, but with such an untered is not a matter over which the recipient is conscious look, that you would never dream that he inclined greatly to rejoice. It did not appear so, at had come merely for information. least, when Mathew Mizzle, in frock and trowsers, No one knows beiter than he all about the domes astonished, after this fashion, his mouth, his clothing tic difficulties of families. His sources of intelligence and the carpet-s0 astonished himself that he for- are innumerable. Sometimes you may find him on got to reverse the bottle, but permitted it to pour in the back fence, taking observatious of the domestic a steady stream right into the aperture of his lovely circle; and he has been seen of an evening up the countenance. No one probably in the wide world linden-tree in front of domiciles, for similar purposes. ever acquired a greater variety of knowledge, as to The servants of the vicinage are all on confidential the effect of substances of all kinds upon the human terms with Mathew Mizzle; and-have you not

case.

noted the fact ?—when you would have secret dis-, by night, after the painters had left their work, to see course with a friend, Mizzle comes upon you, as the what was going on in the chamber of a second story. birds of prey scent a battle-field. All secrets appear Suddenly, there was a dog at the bottom of the afore10 bold a species of telegraphic communication with said ladder, and a cudgel at the top, presenting the our friend Mathew Mizzle, as to the fact at least, that alternatives of a dilemma. Switches above and bark there is a secret in existence, as well as a regard to below, what could the unfortunate Mathew Mizzle to local habitation.

do but surrender himself a prisoner of war? Poor Ubiquitous Mathew Mizzle, yet invariably out of Mizzle! They put him under the pump, and made place. Open the door suddenly, and Mathew Mizzle him acquainted with the nature of ducks. s almost knocked down. Throw out a bucket of Is it not a pity that the system of “ espionage" does water al night, and Mathew Mizzle is there to re- not obtain in America, that Mathew Mizzle might ceive its contents. Pass a stick through the key-hole, have a field for the exercise of the qualities which and it's Mizzle's eye that suffers the detriment. You are so remarkably developed in his constitution? It stumble over him in dark entries—you find him lying would be a perfect union of duty and of pleasure, if perdu in the closet. Go where you will, there is he could be employed to find out every thing that Mizzle, if it be in the wrong place for Mizzle's goes on in town and about, and it is a great pity that presence.

means could not be devised to save so fine a young Behold him prowling round the scenes to investi- man from the waste of his genius. gaie ihe mysteries of a theatrical performance. “People are so fussy about their secrets,” says he, There be is, just where he was told not to be, and “as if there were any use of having secrets, if it William Tell was not in fault that his arrow bas were not for the fun of finding them out and talking stricken Mathew Mizzle breathless. What business about them. It's mean and selfish to abridge intellihad Mizzle there in Switzerland, lurking near the gence in that sort of way, and if I knew of any walls of Altorf ?

country where they manage matters on a different Mizzie's last catastrophe, like the last catastrophe system, I'd emigrate right away, I would. A pretty of many other distinguished citizens, was effected by piece of business, to put a man under the pump, means of a ladder, which he had ascended cautiously I because he seeks after knowledge.”

SHA WANGUNK MOUNTAIN.

.

BY ALFRED B. STREBT.

BEFORE the plough had scattered fields of grain
And grassy orchards midst the oaken woods
Of Shawangunk, upon the mountain's top
Stood a wood-cutter's hut. Himself and wife
Shared it alone. The spot was green and sweet.
The earth was covered with a velvet sward,
Grouped with low thickets, here and there a tree
Rearing its dark rich foliage in the heavens.
Pleasant the echoes of his fast plied axe,
Merrily ralling through the mountain-woods,
To those who sought the old surveyor's road
For shade and coolness; and amidst the sounds
Woald boom deep heavy shocks of falling trees,
Like growls of thunder in the noontide-bush,
Su that the eye would glance impulsively
tp to the tree-tops, to discern the peak
Of the ascending cloud.

His forest-life,
Through rude, was joyous. When the mellow charm
Of sunset on the smiling mountains lay,
The creaking of his high-piled cart would blend
With song or whistle blithe, as, dipping down
The road, he sought the village in the midst
Oribe green hollow. This slight mountain-road
Went slanting to the summit, with blazed trunks
On either side, and soft delicious grass
Spreading iis carpet; one faint track alone
Telling that wheel had e'er its beauty scarred.

Close to the hut it passed, then downward plunged,
And sought the level of the opposite side.
’T was at the close of one cold winter day
That down this road I trod. My weary steps,
With efforts vain, had tracked, for hours, the deer,
And now, with empty flask and rifle, swift,
I journeyed homeward. Nature's great bright eye
Low beaming in the west, still poured sweet light
l'pon the mountain. The pure snow, all round,
In delicate rose-tints glowed. The hemlocks smiled,
Speckled with gold. The oak's sear foliage, still
Tight clinging to the boughs, was kindled up
To warm rich brown. The myriad trunks and sprays
Traced their black lines upon the soft snow-blush
Beneath, until it seemed a tangled maze.
l'pon the mountain's top, a thread of smoke
From the low cabin rose, as though a streak
Of violet had been painted on the air.
I heard the ring of the wood-cutter's axe,
And, through an opening, saw his instrument
Flashing into a walnut's giant stem,
Whose upborne mass, in the fast lowering light,
Seemed cut in copper. A broad wind-fall near
Let down my eyes upon the hollow. White
In snow it lay, with long and dusky lines
Of fences crossing-groups of orchard-trees
Hay-barracks_barns and long low dwelling-roofs.
Straight as an arrow ran the streak of road

Athwart the hollow. As I looked, the eye
In the red west sank lower, till half quenched
Behind the upland, then a shred of light
Glittered and vanished, and the sky was bare.

Whilst gazing on this splendor, suddenly
I heard a shriek. Shrill, ringing midst the woods
In piercing clearness, through my ears it cut,
And left a sense of deafness. Startled, round
I gazed. Again the horrid sound thrilled past.
I knew it then as the terrific cry
Of the fierce, bloody panther. In our woods
Naught fiercer, bloodier dwells, when roused by rage
Or hunger. Oft our hunters had of late
Marked the huge foot-prints of the ravenous beast,
And heard his scream at midnight, but no eye
As yet had seen him. With a nervous grasp
Upon my useless weapon, and a weight
or helplessness, like lead, upon my soul,
I started on my path. At every step
I thought his tawny form and fierce green eye
Would meet my sight, upon some limb o'erhead.
But naught was seen. The village soon I reached,
And gladly crossed the threshold of my home.

The long, cold, breathless night came swiftly down. The clear, magnificent moon seemed not inlaid In the bright blue, but stood out bold, distinct, As though impending from the cloudless skies Glittering with frost. Upon the sparkling snow The rich light slept in such sweet purity As naught on earth can match. The hours sped on. The silver day still shone serene and clear, And twinkled on the crystals shooting round. Gazing once more upon the splendid scene, Before I sought the couch, my wandering eye Glanced at the mountain. There it grandly stood A giant mass of ivory. On the spot Where the steep slanting road the hollow joined, My sight a moment dwelt, for there I last Had swept around a quick and piercing gaze, In search of the gaunt monster whose keen cry Still echoed in my ears.

Is that a spot Of shadow flickering in some transient breeze? No. O'er the hollow, gliding swift, it comes. Is it the ravenous panther, fierce for blood, Seeking the village ? Closer as it speeds A clearer shape it shows/a human form'Tis the wood-cutler's wife! She loudly shrieks, “My husband-lost-wake, wake !" the moonlight falls Upon her features swollen with tears. A band Of villagers was soon aroused, and forth We sallied toward the mountain. So intense The cold, the snow creaked shrilly at our tread, And the strewed diamonds on its surface flashed Back the keen moonlight. As we trod along, The wife in breathless haste, her story told, How, when the sunset fell, she watched to see Her husband's form swift speeding up the road, From the side-clearing, at that wonted hour, Toward his low roof. The sunset died, and night Sprang on the earth; the absent one came not. The moon moved up; the latch-string was not pulled For entrance in the cabin. Hours sped on.

And still, upon the silvered snow, no form
Her gaze rewarded. Once she heard afar
A panther's shriek. Her fear to frenzy rose.
To the side-clearing sped she; naught was there
But solitude moonlight. As she told
Her tale I shuddered. In my ear again
Rang the fierce shriek I heard as sunset glowed,
And my flesh crept with horror. Up we trod
Our mountain snow-path speedily. At length,
To where the narrow opening in the woods
Led from the road, we came. 'Twas at this spot
I stood, and watched the form and flashing axe
Of him, the lost. We passed within. The moon
Threw on the little clearing a full flood
Of radiance. There the crusted wood-pile stood;
There was the walnut with a ghasily notch
Deep in its heart. A ledge of rock rose up
Beside the wounded tree, and at its base
A space of blackest hue proclaimed a chasm.
No life was stirring on the brilliant waste;
The trees rose like a wall on every side
But where the ledge frowned darkly. As I checked
My footsteps at the half-hewn walnut, drops
Thick sprinkled round—the snow stamped down—an are
Lying upon the high wreathed roots, my gaze,
As with a charm, arrested. From this spot
Large prints and a broad furrow stretched along
To the black chasm within the rocky ledge.
We clustered round the mouth. A low, deep growi
Came from the depths. Two orbs of flashing fire
Glared in the darkness. Brace, the hunter, aimed
His rifle just between the flaming spots,
And fired. Fierce growls and gnashings loud of teeth
Blent with the echoes, and then all was still.
The spots were seen no more. A few had brought
Splinters of pine for torches, and the fint
Supplied the flame. With one hand grasping tight
A hatchet keen, the other a bright torch,
The dauntless hunter ventured, with slow steps,
Within the cavern. Soon a shout we heard,
And Brace appeared, with all his giant strength
Dragging a lifeless panther. In again
He passed, and then brought out a human form,
Mangled and crushed. A shriek pealed wild and higt,
And, swooning, sank the wife upon the snow,
Beside the dead. With silent, deep-felt awe
We bore both to the hut. A sudden cloud
Rose frowning from the north, and deep and fierce
Howled the loosed tempest. From her death-like swoon.
Roused by our care, the hapless wife poured out
Her cries and wailings. Through the livelong night
We heard her moans and screams and ravings wild,
Blending with all those stern and awful tones
That scourged forest yields. But morning dawned
And brought the widowed and the broken heart
The peace of death. Beside the lonely hut,
Two graves were opened in the frozen snow,
And silence then fell deeply on the spot.
No more the smoke curled up. No more the axe
Rang in the mountain; and a few short years
Leveled the cabin with the forest-earth,
Midst spreading bushes, fern and waving grass.

INNOCENCE. Let me, lamb-like, share caresses,

Be with me in sleeping, waking ; From thy hand that knows not stain;

Be with me in toil and rest : Flowers that woo, the smile that blesses,

Living, thine; and, life forsaking, Hours that pass and leave no pain !

Let me slumber on thy breast !

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of a retired banker. And this heiress, Lady —, is assume for me the interest of a drama—a scene of it the one whose story I would have told through a veil | played every night, with interludes every day, in of fiction.

public drives and excursions—would not be wolThe Countess of was an unsurpassed horse- derful to you, could I have drawn the portrait of the woman, and rode constantly. Her blood-horses bad principal performer in it, so that you would under been sent round by ship from England; and she was stand its novelty. I had never seen such a woman, always mounted on an animal whose every fibre and I was intensely interested to know how she seemed obedient to her thought, and with whose mo- would bear temptation. The peculiar character of lion every line of her own tall and slenderly-rounded the prince I easily understood; and I felt at once, person, and every ringlet of her flowing, golden curls that of all stages of an accomplished man's progress, seemed in a correspondence governed by the very he was at the one most dangerous to her, while, spirit of beauty. She rode with her rein loose, and perhaps, no other kind of woman in the world would her mind apparently absorbed with any thing but have called upon any but very practiced feelings of her horse. A turn of her head, or the pressure of her bis own. He was of middle age, and had intellect foot upon his shoulder, was probably the animal's enough to have long anticipated the ebb of pleasure. guidance. But, of an excessively impassioned nature, With his faculties and perceptions in full force, he she conversed in the saddle with the expression and was most fastidious in permitting himself to enjoy an gesture of the most earnest untrammeling of mind, enthusiasm, to admire, to yield to, or to embark upon and, in full speed, as in the repose upon a lounge in a with risk. The admiration of mere beauty, mere saloon, she carried away the listener with her uncal style, mere wit, mere superiority of intellect in woculating and passionate absorption-no self-posses- man, or of any of these combined, was but a recurrent sion, however on its guard it might be, able, appa- phase of artificial life. He had been to the terininus, rently, to withstand the enveloping and resistless the farthest human capability of enjoyment of this, influence which she herself was a slave to. Uncon- and was now back again to nature, with his keenes sciousness of every thing in the world, except the relish in reserve, looking for such outdoings of art as feeling she was pouring from her soul, seemed the nature sometimes shows in her caprices. In the only and every-day condition and law of her nature; Countess he recognized at once a rare miracle and supreme as she was in fashion of dress, and style of this—a woman whose beauty, whose style, whose of manner, these seemed matters learned and lost intellect, whose pride, were all abundant, but, abunthought of-she having returned to nature, leaving dant as they were, still all subservient to electric her triumphs as a belle to be cared for by infallible and tumultuous sensation. Her life, her impulsehabit. A separate spirit of light, speaking from the the consciousness with which she breathed—was the lips of the most accomplished and best perfected of one gift given her by Heaven in tenfold measure, women—the spirit, and the form possessed, being and her impression on those she expanded to, was each in full exercise of their best faculties-could like the magnetizing presence of ten full existences scarcely have conveyed more complete impressions poured into one. The heart acknowledged it before of wondrous mind, in perfect body, or have blended herthough the reason knew not always why. more ravishingly, the entireness of heavenly with Lord would scarce have been human had be the most winning earthly development. She was not loved such a woman, and she his wife. He did an earnest angel, in the person of a self-possessed and love her-and doubtless loves her at this hour with unerringly graceful woman.

all the tenderness of which he could ever be capable, I chanced to be looking on, when Prince one if they had lived only on their estates in England, of the brothers of a royal family of central Europe, where seclusion would have put up no wall of conwas presented to the Countess It was at a cealment to his feelings, she might have drawn from crowded ball; and I observed that, after a few minutes the open well of his heart, the water for which her of conversation with her, he suddenly assumed a cere- ardent being was athirst. But with the usage of monious indifference of manner, and went into an- fashionable life, be followed his own amusements other room. I saw at once that the slightness of the during the day, leaving the countess to hers; and in attention was an “anchor to windward," and that, in scenes of gayety they were, of course, still separated even those few minutes the prince had recognized a by custom; and all she enjoyed of nature in her rides, rare gem, and foreseen that, in the pursuit of it, he or of excitement in society, was, of course, with might need to be without any remembered par- others than her husband. Naples is in the midst of ticularity of attention. Lady conversed with palace-gardens, and of wonders of scenery-in seeing him with her usual earnest openness, but started a which love is engendered in the bosom and brain little, once or twice, at words which were certainly with tropical fruitfulness-and Lady unaccompanied by their correspending expression of more have lived that year in Italy without passionate countenance; and this, too, I put down for an assump-loving, than she could have stayed from breathing the tion of disguise on the part of the prince. It was fragrance of the orange blossoms, when galloping natural enough; with his conspicuous rank, he could between the terraced gardens of Sorrento. only venture to be unguarded in his attentions to those for whom he had no presentiment of future When abroad, a little more than a year ago, I intimacy.

made a visit to a friend, whose estate is in the same That the progress of this acquaintance should | county with that of the father of Lady and be

could no

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