many a horse-thief from the Penitentiary, provided, as the law books have it, the fools will only give me a chance of showing my legal acquirements. As for Lonz; there, he is of late becoming very backward and shamefaced, and as he is too modest to speak for himself, I suppose I must say that I have no doubt he too will soon become fully competent to slay his due quantum of poor devils, and, as the saying is, 'be death on any disease he can throw into fits."" "I see, Morten, you have all the requisites to make you successful in your profession," said the old man, laughing; "to wit, 'vanity and brass,' a glib tongue, and no fear to use it. But how now, Lonz! I knew not that you were so fond of night-riding, or break-neck fox-hunting (as you call it) in the tangled brush of this wild country? I look to you to be the sober business man of the family, and have always congratulated myself that the fondness of your old father for such sports had not descended to his oldest son." "Indeed, dear father," replied the oldest son, for the first time breaking silence, and speaking in low, sweet, but measured voice, "you have not been deceived as to my disposition. I never loved the horse-race or fox-hunt, and would always prefer, if I had my choice, to lounge at my ease, dreaming away life over books, or engaged in some more quiet and less dangerous amusement than those so much loved by yourself and Morten. In this matter, however, I could not resist; for Morten was so crazy to see your two famous young horses, which Col. B. has been extolling as the perfection of beauty, and I, on the other hand, was so anxious to see you and mamma and Ellen, that for once I have conquered my repugnance to night-riding, and have determined to take a part in the hunt, and be for a few days as mad as even Morten himself." "Well, well, my boy," exclaimed the old man, forgetting his recent hope, in his fondness for sport, "I think you were right; for you do look somewhat pale and thin, and a few dashes through these old woods on the back of my lovely Cloud will put you all right again, and I have no doubt do you more good than all the 'nostrums of the faculty.' But, talking of Col. B., did he speak of coming soon to Forest Home?" "Your pardon, father," spoke up Morten, as he was busily buckling on his spurs, "for Col. B. will be with you in a few days, and made me the bearer of his best wishes, saying that he could not leave Kentucky without seeing you once more." "Yes, yes," replied the father, a cloud sweeping over his lately joyous face-"Col. B. is a gentleman of the old school, and reminds me of my sporting days in Virginia. I will be heartily glad to shake him by the hand and bid him welcome; but his name brings to memory my sad loss a few months ago. You remember, boys, the theft of my two mares, Ida and Black Nan. Col. B., but a few days before those cursed horse-thieves swept my stables, offered to purchase them at $2,000, and that sum would now save"-(the old man hesitated and sighed)—"ay, save me from doing what will wellnigh break my heart." The two young men started when their father referred to his loss by the horse-thieves, and, as they beheld his agony when speaking of something that would "well nigh break his heart," grew deadly pale, and a tear trembled in the eye of the youngest, which his father observing, hastened to remove, by remarking in a more cheerful tone: "Never mind, boys, it is nothing after all; the rascals stole my race-mares, but they had the manners, a curse on the villains, to leave me my young horses, and I should be thankful that they left me a hoof on the plantation. I would not have cared so much, only I am at present somewhat involved and straitened for ready money, and the sale of the mares would have made me easy. I borrowed some money, as you perhaps know, to supply your demands while at college, from that old skinflint down on the river, paying him an enormous usury for the loan. I had thought to have paid and been done with him, by the sale of the mares to Col. B.; but then those infernal thieves swept my stables, and I am still in his clutches. He presses me for money, and wishes me to sell some of my negroes, but that I can never do, for I played with them in my infancy, and have watched and cared for them during my life," said the old man firmly, and as if this reason was conclusive. "The old ones who were my companions in boyhood, expect to die with him they have faithfully served, and the young ones are a part of my family, and seem to me as children; and if my property must sell, then away will go this lovely home, for everything I have shall go piece by piece, but last of all my negroes." Had the father been observant, he would have seen his oldest son as ghastly as death itself, and his youngest almost overcome with tears, but the old man was again lost in sad musing, and did not notice the emotion of his children. Only a moment, however, did he give way to his feeling, and then, dashing his hand across his brow, exclaimed in a pleasant, half-bantering voice, "Come, boys, don't let the maudling complaints of a silly old man, who does not know what has got into him this morning, disturb your contemplated sport. If the worst comes, then I will only have to sell a few of my horses and quit racing, which will not be so terrible after all, for I am getting old, and had already half concluded in my own mind to sell the horses and give up the course. "Go now, I see you are both ready for the chase in the bottom; and it is high time, if you wish to see any sport, to be mounted and off. Old Ned will be proud to see his young masters on the back of his favourites, and I will now hurry to complete my toilet and be at the stables in time to see how you set your chargers." The old man, aroused with the thought of beholding his sons mounted upon his gallant steeds, and of listening to their admiration and praises, forgot in a moment his cares and misgivings, and hurried away with smiling face to finish his dress. The young men, stopping only an instant to embrace their sister Ellen, who at this moment gaily challenged them from the top of the stairs, hastened away to the stables, Morten saying to Ellen, as he made her a formal, half-mocking bow, "Let me go now, and I promise you, fair lady, if this wild colt, Thunder, proves as fleet as he is beautiful, to bring you home another fox-tail to deck your riding cap, and that I will answer all your questions in detail around the fire to-night, if you will only take the trouble during the morning to write them down in order and alphabetically. For the present, my flower of the forest, au revoir.'" CHAPTER II. "Thy sports, thy wanderings, when a child, Were ever in the sylvan wild; Is in thy heart, and in thy face." BRYANT. THAT last, or rather first chapter of ours, like the great sea-serpent, or one of our own boundless forests, was almost interminable, and like the character of a dead man, most awfully whitewashed. We did intend to apologize, had we not become too much wearied, and discovered, if we did not "bluff the game" and chop off immediately, that, like the history of Robinson Crusoe, our story would be spun out into one long, unbroken "yarn." Don't think I am trying my hand at "blarney," dear reader, for I am only the son of an Irishman, and never do such things, and merely wish to let you know, that if you became tired of reading my opening chapter, that you have no advantage over myself, for I became most awfully "bored" long before you had the pleasure (for I have no doubt, your word to the contrary notwithstanding, it is a pleasure) of looking at these pages. But, as the surveyor would say, all the plotting, laying off, and heavy dragging work is now over, and the remainder of our journey will be fair sailing, and without any stopping or delay to examine houses or farms we have no idea either of buying or renting, and you may also be greatly consoled with this promise of mine, that if I ever "bore" you again with as long a chapter as the first, then will I be willing to undergo the torture of being shaved with "a dull razor, cold water, and without soap." Speaking of soap reminds us of the ladies-how and why, we are unable to inform you, unless it is that the ladies' faces are generally bright and clean and pleasant to look upon, and soap is the article most commonly used to put them in that condition; and being thus reminded, we will now pay our respects to one of the fairest of the fair, the young Ellen, and only daughter of Mr. Powers. Like all only daughters, especially when they are pretty, Ellen's reign over "Forest Home" and its inhabitants, was as despotic and undisputed as Queen Victoria's over England; and she was far more loved by her subjects than the latter queen, particularly by that branch of hers just at present hibernating in the land of bogs and and potatoes. "Forest Home" owed the most of its beauty and pleasant appearance to the hand and taste of Ellen, who had spent her leisure hours in making artificial additions to its natural loveliness. The negroes were abject slaves; not through fear, but love to all her whims and fancies, and were never more delighted than when engaged, under her superintendence, in setting out and transplanting trees, shrubs, and flowers. These sable subjects of Ellen, well knowing her devotion to the beautiful offspring of sunshine and dew, never in their rambles through the woods discovered a strange flower without carefully removing and presenting it to their loved young mistress. It was by no means a rare sight to see great, rough, uncouth negroes, through the spring, summer, and fall, with their torn and soiled hats in one hand, presenting with the other, while a broad grin of satisfaction played over their dusky countenances, a bouquet of wild flowers to the young Ellen; and O, how happy and proudly would they walk away when she praised the beauty of their gifts and thanked them for their presents. It was the spontaneous offering of the African to the kindness and charity of their loved. mistress, for in the hour of sickness or trouble she was their ministering angel, and there was scarcely one upon the plantation who had not experienced the comfort of her sympathy. Ye men so fond of freedom, and women who weep over the sad lot and misfortunes of the negro-ye who groan and shudder at the imaginary lashes, chains, and cruelties of the southern master, and who blame, abuse, and vilify southern laws and institutions, will think, no doubt, that what you have just read is nothing more than the creation of fancy; and that such a family, so attached to their servants, and servants so devoted to the interest and happiness of their masters, cannot, or if at all, but rarely be found. Now we assure you, most humane and philanthropic friends of the blacks, but oppressors of the necessitous white |