bers of the community, if he found the parties to be headstrong and impassive to argument, he not unfrequently took the matter in his own hands, and reduced them to reason, by shaking them until no breath was left in their bodies.

"There goes mad Rulif, God bless him," was not an unfrequent ejaculation of some honest old Dutchman, as he gazed after the brawny figure of the young man when he would gallop by; and there were younger and brighter eyes, too, that stole anxious glances after him; and more than one little heart fluttered rapidly beneath the tightly-laced bodice at the sound of his voice. Poor girls! they had all heard that his farm was running to waste, and that he was on the road to ruin! but what of that? women are always tender-heartedThey pitied him because he was poor, and loved him because he was good-for nothing. They thought only of finding their way into his heart; and left to their fathers the more matter of fact task of investigating his pockets.

Nor amid all this artillery of soft glances, deep dark eyes, rich pouting lips, and glowing cheeks in which the blood came and went at every word that he spoke, did Rulif escape scatheless; for at the distance of about two miles from his abode, was a quiet, drowsy looking house, built of Dutch brick, with a low, broad piazza in front of it, and which seemed to have been nodding away for several centuries beneath the shade of half a dozen large trees, whose huge branches hung down upon its roof. In this house was one little window overrun with honeysuckles and clambering roses, from amid which a beautiful face might have been seen looking out towards the road, at the times when Rulif usually passed. And certain it is, that these times were not unfrequent; for it became a matter of no little perplexity to the deep thinkers of Westchester county, to explain, why it was, that whatever may have been Rulif's destination, whether north or south, east or west, he invariably continued, both in going and coming, to pass this house.

There was one person, however, to whom it was no secret, and this person was Garret Stryker, the proprietor of that house, and of the broad acres which surrounded it. He was a stout, square-built little Dutchman, with a

portly abdomen, and a stubborn disposition, who kept a keen eye upon his fair daughter Katrina, and in Rulif snuffed a lover in the wind, with unerring sagacity. He gathered his chicken under his wing, and watched the bird of prey with unceasing vigilance. With lovers of all descriptions he had no sympathy; but a suitor with empty pockets was his utter abomination.

"There is Oloffe Van Giesen," he would sometimes remark to her, "If you must have a husband, take him. You'll be in luck if you get him. He's none of your roystering, harem scarum good for nothing fellows, who scamper round the country meddling with every body's concerns but their own. No, no; he has a head-all is solid there ;" which last remark was undoubtedly true, for he was one of the most notoriously thickheaded fellows in the whole neighborhood.

Katrina listened, with a downcast eye and a sinking heart. She made no reply, but she was unconvinced; for Rulif had found no little favor in her eyes, and a single tone of his voice, or a single whisper of one of his wild pranks, scattered all recollections of paternal advice to the winds.

Rulif soon discovered that although the fair Katrina lent a willing ear to his words, her father watched him with a jealous eye; but it never entered into his head to conciliate the old man by setting about the cultivation of his farm in good earnest; he became wary, and his visits to the house were at long intervals, unless Garret Stryker happened to be absent. In which case, his horse had more than once been seen tied at the gate, and Katrina had been observed taking leave of him in a manner, which the coy maidens of Westchester pronounced highly indecorous, and which they warranted she would not have done had her father been present.

Things had remained in this way for some time, when Garret Stryker determined to take counsel upon the matter. He forthwith despatched a message to one Abram Van Skaak, a near neighbor, and a man of profound sagacity, who had successfully brought up and married three unpromising daughters to opulent farmers of the neighborhood, whom they ruled with a rod of iron.

The council of these sages was held upon a dead log, under a large sycamore

tree, directly beneath Katrina's window. It was a puzzling case, and nearly a whole morning was consumed in deliberation, but they finally hit upon a project to drive Rulif off the ground. This was no less than to have a general assembly of all the young people of the neighborhood, at a sort of tea drinking, and among them they had little doubt that one would be found to enter the lists against Rulif, and eventually to carry captive the affections of Garret's wilful daughter. But with all his pentup hostility, Garret dared not exclude Rulif from the number of his guests; for he knew that he was an iron-limbed fellow, of a hot, fiery disposition, who, when fairly roused, would stick at nothing to gain his ends, or to pay off a grudge; and Garret being a prudent as well as a stubborn man, had quite as little relish for Rulif as an enemy as for

a son-in-law.

On the following day an old negro, with a face puckered and wrinkled like a dried persimmon, who was a sort of fixture to the place, was mounted on Stryker's switch tailed mare, and sallied out on his important errand of giving the invitations, which in those unsophisticated times were by word of mouth. For miles around that switch tailed mare might have been seen, for Garret had cautioned the rider not to let the grass grow under his horse's feet; and his messenger construing this expression to suit his own taste, had been scouring in every direction, as if the Old Scratch were at his heels, and returned at night with both the horse and himself fairly blown, but with the full consciousness of having forgotten none of the neighbors except one man, who being rather poor than otherwise, had no right to be remembered.

It was a fine sunny afternoon, at that season of the year when autumn is just blending into winter, that Rulif, wholly unaware how unwelcome a guest he would be, mounted his coal black horse, and sallied out to the family mansion of the Strykers. He had strange feelings as he rode along, but he manfully choked down his heart in its various attempts to throttle him; and as the best mode of putting an end to his suspense, he scampered along at full gallop.

When the gray old trees which embowered the house met his eye, with a sharp chimney jutting up here and there

He

among the brown foliage, he had an odd kind of misgiving, and for the first time in his life felt a dread of encountering the keen eye of his choleric host. was not the man, however, to give way to idle fancies; so rousing himself, he dashed up to the door at full gallop. He flung his reins to a grinning negro who stood ready to take his horse, and walked boldly into the house.

Garret's reception of his young guest was cordial, for his heart seemed to expand as his house filled, and his manners became more particularly gracious, because at the moment when Rulif entered, he observed that his daughter was apparently lending a willing ear to the soft whispers of the identical Oloffe Van Giesen, whom he had so repeatedly recommended to her especial consideration.

"The girl is listening to reason," thought he. "Katrina is making a fool of herself," thought Rulif, as his quick eye rested upon her and her companion.

It was not in his nature to indulge long in suspicion; but as the evening waned, and he observed her still engaged with the solid-headed Oloffe, he at first grew restless, then downright angry; and at last, in a spirit of pique, selected a blooming daughter of one Anthony Van Bummel, a neighboring farmer, who was well to do in the world, and who was one of his warm admirers. His attentions in this quarter grew so marked, that the old gossips who sat round the capacious chimney, and kept a watchful eye upon the doings of the young folks, remarked, that there might have been some mistake in the stories about Rulif and Katrina, and that another than she might become Mrs. Van Pelt.

It may be that the same idea struggled into the head of Garret Stryker, and that as the mists which had settled about his brain were dispersed, they let a little sunshine into his heart; or it may be that his nature expanded and grew genial under the influence of the foaming ale which circulated freely in large pewter flagons; but certain it is, that as the night advanced, his manner to Rulf relaxed. He urged him to indulge in potations of the same beverage, which he had so deeply imbibed, slapped him roughly but kindly on the shoulder, told him that his father was one of the finest old blades in the country, and that he was "a chip of the old block."

both sides by a lofty forest; and even the nearest way was long and circuitous, unless he chose to take a short cut through the woods. Though there was no path, he did not hesitate, but leaped his horse over the fence, into the bushes. He was a thorough woodsman, and there was not a forest between King's Bridge and Sing Sing, or between the Hudson and the Sound, that he had not traversed with dog and gun, until each leafy nook was as familiar to him as his own door yard. But still, it was no easy matter to force his way on. At times the branch of a tree came in contact with his cheek; the next moment a bush flapped in his face; now his horse reared and plunged as he encountered a thorny bush; now he stumbled over a log, and finally was brought to a halt by the trunk of a large prostrate tree, which he obstinately refused to leap.

66 Comfortable, this," muttered Rulif, dropping the reins, and thrusting his hands in his pockets, and breaking out in a low, thoughtful whistle; while his horse, seeing him in this meditative mood, commenced cropping the bushes. Well, nothing will be gained by sitting here," thought he. So seeing the moonlight shining brightly at a short distance, he dismounted, and forced his way thither through the thick underwood.

66

He found himself in a small clearing, filled with stumps and low bushes. In the centre of it stood a solitary tree, which had been blasted by lightning, and which now towered up in the moonlight like a hoary giant, while from its trunk a scathed limb projected like a skeleton arm extended in warning. From among its roots a spring of water gushed out, sparkling like diamonds, and lost itself in the grass. Rulif walked up to the tree, and scarcely conscious of what he did, seated himself on a log at its foot, and with his cheeks resting between his hands, began to ponder over the events of the past evening. How long he sat there he did not know. He was roused by hearing a plashing in the water close to him, but supposing it to be a musk-rat he did not look up. The sound was then renewed, as if a person were pouring water from one vessel into another. Rulif now raised his head, and was not a little startled at seeing, within a few feet of him, a driedup old man attired in a quaint, antiquated

Dutch garb, with a red woollen cap on his head, busy in filling two stone flagons from the spring. As he finished, he paused for a moment, and fixed a dull, leaden stare at Rulif, and then taking up his vessels, began to move off through the bushes.

His features were strange, and his whole garb and appearance was 50 grotesque and outlandish, that Rulif determined to know more of him; so he called out to him, but the stranger kept on his way without reply.

"The fellow's deaf; but have a word with him I will. Devil of a pretty place and time of night for him to be prowling round the country with two stone jugs, and not a house within a mile.

Rulif strode rapidly on after him, but to his perplexity, he found that the pace of the other was fully as rapid as his own, and that increase his as he might, still the old man maintained the same relative distance between them. Rulif, however, was not the person to yield his point; and when the stranger left the clearing, and plunged into the woods, his pursuer followed close at his heels, although it was so dark that he could barely catch a glimpse of his form in the obscurity. Before long they came to another clearing, in the midst of which, to Rulif's great suprise, stood a strange looking house, surrounded by trees. It seemed very old and capacious, and, as far as he could judge, was built of brick, with innumerable gables pointing up to the sky, with high narrow windows, and huge heavy doors; but of its exact size he could form no idea, for the shadows from the trees were so thick that the outline was lost in darkness. The grass grew thickly about it, and creeping vines were clambering about its eaves.

"It's very strange," muttered Rulif. "I never saw this house in all my life, nor heard of it; and I'd be sworn that I know every piece of brick and mortar within twenty miles."

He paused for a moment, to examine it more closely, and then turned to look for his guide; but he was gone. Rulif's curiosity, however, was fully awakened. He knocked at the door, but there was no answer. He then pushed it open, and went boldly in. The hall was dark and dreary, and as the door swung heavily shut after him, with a noise that rang through the whole building, his heart sank. He hallooed

loudly, but there was no reply, except the echo of his own voice.

Groping his way along the wall, he came to a door, which he opened, and found himself in a large chamber, dimly illuminated by the moonlight shining through the windows. A few embers were smouldering on the hearth, giving an uncertain and ghostlike air to the room, and affording just light enough to render the obsurity more painful.

Rulif drew a heavy chair in front of the fireplace, and throwing himself in it, he stretched his feet to the fire, and determined to make himself comfortable. He felt that he had made all the noise necessary to deprive his entrance of a stealthy character, and having performed his duty, he considered whatever further advances were to be made, must come from his host. If he were inclined to be friendly, Rulif was the very man for him; "if not," Rulif half muttered to himself, and without completing the sentence, looked down upon his brawny figure, and recollected that its ponderous strength had borne the brunt of much more rough usage than he was likely to receive at the hands of the stranger, whom he had so recently seen. Whilst he was indulging these reflections, his attention was attracted by the creaking of the door.

"Oh ho! here he comes," thought he, turning his chair so as to be in full sight of whoever should enter.

Scarcely had he done so, when a little antiquated man, so shrunken and withered that he seemed to have half a dozen centuries on his shoulders, and attired in broad skirted small clothes, with huge buckles to his shoes, a large cocked hat upon his head, slowly entered, carrying in his hand a heavy brass candlestick, such as Rulif recollected to have seen in old pictures.

"Now for it," thought he, "I'll catch

it."

But the other, although he looked carefully about the room, took no notice of him; and turning about, he bowed civilly to the door, which, thereupon, swung quietly shut. Advancing to the table, he placed the candlestick on it; fixed a dull lack lustre eye on Rulif, without uttering a word, and then turned to the door, bowed solemnly, the door swung open, the old man glided out, bowed, the door closed of itself, and Kulif was left to his meditations.

"This is a wonderful house," muttered he, sitting up in his chair, and rubbing his eyes. "Civility goes a great way in it. I never saw a door acknowledge it, unless there were a man behind it. I can't be dreaming," said he, staring about him. "No, there's the candlestick, which certainly was not there when I came in, and there's the door itself."

The more Rulif thought over the matter, the more uncomfortable he became. He now recollected that the old man glided rather than walked; that his face was pale, and had a blueish tinge like that of a corpse, and that his fingers were thin and bony, like the talons of a bird.

It

There was nothing in the appearance of the room to afford any clue to the character of the house. It was large and dreary, with heavy black rafters crossing it. In a corner stood a great lumbering clothes press, and a chest bound with iron bands. In the centre was a ponderous oaken table, with quaintly carved legs, and dark from age. Around it stood eleven heavy chairs with high backs; on the top of each of which a grotesque face, wrought from the massive frame, grinned and gibbered at its neighbor across the table. was one of these which Rulif had drawn from its place, and now occupied. On the opposite side of the room were twelve pegs driven in the wall, from each of which hung a long Dutch pipe. The chimney was wide and gaping, like the mouth of a cavern; the wood-work about it, from smoke, had become as dark as mahogany, and was ornamented with fantastic figures and strange goblin faces, which, with their puckered faces and lolling tongues, appeared, to Rulif's excited imagination, to be indulging devilish glee at his expense; and as he watched them more intently, they seemed endowed with life. He could have sworn that they rolled their eyes and leered at him, and even that he heard a faint giggle. He coughed loudly, moved himself in his chair, and pushed it heavily across the floor.

"Tut, tut, this is nonsense," said he ; "I'm no child to yield to it."

He endeavored to hum a tune, and to persuade himself that he was jovial, and at his ease; but it would not do; his voice gradually sank into silence; and he again found himself with his eyes riveted on the wood-work.