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‘1. Subscribers who do not give eXprcss notice to the contrary are considered as wishing to con- tinue their subscriptions. 2. If subscribers order the discontinuance of their periodicals, the publisher may send them until all arrears are paid : and subscribers are re- sponsible. for all numbers sent. ponsiblc. f. . Six lines and under, first insertion . . . . 50 cents. Each subsequent insertion . . . . . . . . . l3 “ Six to ten lines, first insertion . . . . . . . . 75 Each subsequent insertion . . . . . . . . 25 “ Above ten lines, first insertion (per line) 8 “ Each subsequent insertion (per line) 2 “ Cards in the Business Directory, ten lines and under, per annum. . . . . . . . . . . . $4.00 Do. for six months .................... $3.00 All advertisements must be accompanied by written instructions, and none will be discontin- ued without a written order. H 3. If subscribers refuse or neglect to take their periodicals from the'oflice to which they are directed, they are held responsible till they have cattled their Bill, and ordered their periodical to be discontinued. Sending numbers back, or leav- ing them in the Ojice, is not such notice as the Law requii‘es. ' O 4. If subscribers remove to other places with- out. informing the publisher; and their periodicals are sent to the former directions, they are held reâ€" REPS constanth on hand a. large assortment of Drugs, UhemicMs, Patent Medicines, Dye Stuffs, Stationary ‘10., kc. Durham, Dev. 2, 1898. 1 SAMUEL E. LEGATE, 15519131101? M u: mmn LICENSES humu M. No advertisement discontinued until paid for at the time of withdrawal, unless by consent of the publisher. All letters and communications addressed to the editor must be Postpaid. Conv cyan ncer, l‘ ommissioner in t‘ourt of Queen’s Bench Money letters, properly mailed and registered at the risk of the publisher I? No unpaid letters taken from Post Office. S.L.M.LUKE, Proprietor PIIYSH‘, SURGERY AND MIDWIFERY, DURHAM. J. P. BROWN, DRUGGIST AND CHEMIST, Issuer of Marriage Licenses. (Hmt‘fey‘s Mills, ) Gleuelg, Jan. 12, 1859.5 THE DURHAM STANDARD J ()HN KENNEDY '8 LA \V, CEIANCERY fittorney at Law, Solicitor in Chancery, Conteyar- rrr, 5-4.3, Toronto -1nd Sydenlxam Road; 26 miles from Owen Sound; 16 do. from John Town, bamfraxa. Road; 6 do. from Fleslxers Corners. Bar and Jaro'ler well suppled. Good stabling and atten- ve bostler. East Glenelg, M113“ 1 , 1861.126-1y BUTCHERS’ ARMS INN D.DONOHUE, GENERAL MERCHANT Traveller’s Home Inn, Garafraxa Road, five miles from Durham. {Ht-nelg, Dec. 2, 1858. 1 cunt Forest, Nov. 29, 1861. FRIDAY MORNING, Durham, Dec. ‘3, 1858. Durham, Dec. 2, 18:38. ORCHARD VIL LE HOTEL, BY THOMAS HARLOW. attend patron AT THE OFFICE, DURHAM, COUNTY GREY, C. HALF WAY BETWEEN DURHAM AND Mount. Forest. Bar and Larder “ell sup- licd. Goodstabling ,and attentive hostlers. Orchardville, 22nd May 1861.128 -1; Esmmas 3333138333? PRICE! 1L LE: ”wow ' All the latest Amtrimn and Foreign styel e‘s made as desired. 2 Pricnme, ’nd Dec 1%! 1354‘. Blsnop’s BUILDINGS, MAIN SRRl-ll-Z'I‘, MOUNT FOREST. COUNTIES 0F \VELLINGTON AND GREY. Mount Forest, July 21, 1859 ‘ COUNTY OF GREY ADVERTISER, Law Respecting Newspapers. HE SUBSCRIBER BEGS T0 ANNOUNCE to the inhabitants of Pricexfifle and gut. gun“fachm}1.4-3;~ that he has commenced the .ve ‘husinoa'm Pncevdle, and hopes by strict 2mm "tbhtfliness to merit asharc of public R . 17-7 0 o I) 9 CURONER, LICENSED TO PRACTICE FASHIONABLE TAILORING Rates of Advertising. .CHAFF MOUNT FOREST, IS PUBLISHED EVERY (LATE mm FOREST xxx.) J. GEIDDBS, Durhaln . AND AND AND 50 cents. 13 H 75 “ y‘.‘ RADUATE OF QUEEN’S COLLEGE Kingston; of theEUnivei-sity of New York, Aylett’s Medical and Surgical Institute, New York; New York Ophthalmic Hospital; and Pro- vincial Licentiate, Durham. Coroner for the County of Grey. SURGERY AND Rssmssceâ€"Adjoining the store of Mr. D. Fletcher. N, B,â€"Dr. C. begs to return thanks for the confid nce and patronage received during his residence in Durham, and will continue to attend to all calls appertaining to the Profession Accounts rendered semi-annually, in the mouths of July and January Drubam, May 23, 1861 128-tf DR. J . CRAWFQBQ ARMERS, CITIZESIS, AND '1 RAVELLERS, will find at the above Hotel, all the com- forts of a. home during their visits; and those re- the best the quiring entertainment will have country ati'ords. q .. A9--- Ant] n;":‘ Ill\:_ UV“- -‘_ Good Stabling and a tlers. Stages call dailx Township of Arthur, 26 miles from Durham, 10 from Mount Forest, and which W111 be sold cheap for cash. COTTON RAGS, OLD COPPER, S; SKINS taken in exchange tor g4 JAPANNED WORK MADE travelling public. . 113" Good Stabling and an attentxve hostlcr. O. The subscriber is Agent for the Corn Exchage Fire and Inland Navigation Insurance Co. suznpamfi, OVER $28,000. _A11- They are prepared to take terms. A VOL. 4.â€"-â€"N( ). 34.] HE Bar is supp}? Liquors, and the. times conducive to 1 community. MORRISONSL SAMPSON (mice, ANGUS MORRISON, BARRISTERS, AT'I ORN EYS, SOLICITORS, D urha m , Mount Forest Jan. 18th ’13" First door Nat!) of J. T. Butchart‘ 5 Con- fectioner}, Shop, Poulett SL, Owen Sound. JEWELRY NEATLY REPAIR? D. PROM ENGLAND, " RACTfC AL “ ATCH AND CLOCK MAKER‘ Goldsmith, Silversmith, and Engraver. Club and Lodge Seals made to order at twelve hours [101108. _ .___ _ _ A u Arthiu', Dec. 105 1858. ‘f‘r Orders from Duzbam, whether by mail or other- wise, puctually attended to. Cbargvs moderate Dwonnound, Jan. 29; 1861. 112-1? fififiUEWW HM} Durham, DR. WISTAR'S PULMONIC SYRUP, is h1g3! recup- din-gal and for Con ha. Colds, Asthma, Group, N: (moiwémt. Zamhperbotflo. Priccvillc, January General Dealer in D n ‘3' G- o o I) 5, Hardware, G roccrics, .c. ’ra'vellers’ Home Inn, {Cd Executed in the most approved form. HANOVER, 25th March, 1862. ORCHARD’ S NowTin-ware Establishment. mm STREET, MOUNT FOREST, {Y 111031118 \VILSON. :e,--Western Assurance Buildings. CHURCH STREET, TORONTO . Every fittention M . LI} KB, Publisher. 15th August, 1861. JOHN MILLER 30111 August, 1859. 39atf ”Hindes from Fergu - b. in exchange for goods. PRICEVILLE, IMPORTANT. pp‘nied with the best. Wineaa 1d the. Larder will be fouuda ’ 111 to the comfort. of the Luv ng l attentive and civil Hos- ilx at the abme Hotel. THOMAS \\ ILSON. 8111, 1861.1}â€" paid to the comfort of the *isks on reasonable AND COUNTY OF GREY GENERAL ADVERTISER TO ORDER. 140-13; . A. SAMPSOK' l 30-tf 8L0. From the Hamilton Spectator. Canada to be Conquered. (Vide New York Herald.) It was at Ramsgate boarding-house, and no longer ago than last autumn, that my wife and Ifirst made the acquaintance of Miss Fyfe. She was staying there, with her maid, for the season, and my wife and she soon be- came quite intimate, so that after a time Miss Fyfe spent most of her evenings in our room. She was a pleasant companion, cheerful and good-natured ; she had travelled much, both at home and abroad, and had hived up rich srores of information and experience, which she was always willing to draw upon for the benefit of her friends. In person, she was tall and thin, with gray hair, a strong, reso- lute face, and large gray eyes, full of rivacity and humor. We were all seated round the fire in our sitting-room, one chill evening in early autumn, when Miss Fyfe related to us the lollowing adventure, which I may here remark, I have her full permission to set down and make public: Miscellaneous Reading It is now some six or seven years ago, he- can Miss Fyfe, since my nephew, Fred, liaviixg Just left college came to reside with me for a short time previous to going out to India. I had been living for a year past in London, and had grown heartily tired of it; indeed, the town and I never agree very well together, and by the time I have been in it a month or two, I always find myself possess- ed with an intense longing to visit either the country or the sea. So, in the present in- stance, I determined to go down for a while to a little countryâ€"house I have in Leicester- shire, which happened at that timeto be with- out a tenant, at which place it was arranged that Fred should join me. The idea of a few l quiet months in the country was as pleasant to him as to myself, for he was busy with‘ his Sanscrit and Arabic, and in London he had so many acquaintances, that his studies were being constantly interrupted. The be- ginning of June found us all comfortably es- tablished in Ivy Lodgeâ€"myself, Fred, and the two women-servants, which were all that our little establishment needed. There was one fault to find with Ivy Lodge, and that was the reason why I could never keep a tenant in it more than two winters in sucâ€"i i cession; this fault was its distance from any i other habitation, even of the humblest kind ; I the nearest house being, in fact, two miles away, while it was six miles distance from the nearest country town. But neither Fred 1 nor I cared for this in the least, for he got on ' famously with his studies within doors, and botanised to his heart’s content in the fields ; while a visit to \Vestbury once a week satis- fied all my social requirements. Land of the Lakes, the gauntlet’s down, The foes of peace surround thee, Fling forth thy flag! unsheath thy sword! And call thy sons around thee. Go, tell the hoaster, Englands child “Is 1101. 300113in scared; ’ To Sam". blood and Celtic pride Such threats might W011 be spared. Go, ask the warlike Hun if he \\ ill lead this conquering host, To bezud the Lion' 1: 1 his den If thus he holds our power so cheap, IIe judgeth much 21.111138 ; For know, Sir Knight], we. won our spurs In fields not far from this. If thou dost doubt that fame hath left No watelm'ords in our train, Go lift thine eyes to Queenston Heights, Or thence to Lundy's Lme. Or ma rk the. p aceful dust. that, lies On I‘ rock’s beloved bier, And know, when roused, the foe may fee The soul was thereâ€"is here, Then “ ’tention," sons of martial sires, Who have been rashly dared, We seek not strife! yet for our own ’Tis well to be prepared. Nor thi.:k that England to our land Hath lend her sword in vain ; We’ve fought. together for our rights Those rights we yet retain. Land of the Lakes, the gauntlet’s down, The fees of peace surnouud us ; Fling forth the flag, unshe: Lth the 3“ 0rd, And call tln sons around thee. Well, summer and autumn passed quietly and’ftleasantly away. One morntng in early winter, Fred received a letter inviting mm to attend the wedding of an old college friend, who lived about thirty miles away in another county. Fred replied, accepting the invita- tion, and set off shortly afterwards without fixing the duration of his visit, which would probably extend over three or four days. On the second morning of F red’s absence, Mary, the house-maid, came to me to inquire wheth- er I could contrive to spare her and Bessy for the afternoon and evening to attend at the wakes at Westbury. I made no demur at letting them go, for they had been amped up long enough without a holiday; so in the af- ternoon they were called for by Mary’s father, and duly driven away by him in his light cart. Before going, the old man observed that it would “most likely be rather late at ' night before the lasses could get back again, abut perhaps I wouldn’t mind at for 0mg.” DEVOTED T0 NEWS, POLITICS, EDUCATION, AND AGRICULTURE, And thus make goud his boast. -â€"¢.-..â€".â€"~~ -._m 'M MISS .FYFE’S MI‘ifiNlG‘i‘iT ADVENTURE. DURHAM, C. W., FRIDAY, AUGUST ‘3, 1862, G. M. MACKAY. The manifest delight with which this proâ€" position was received by the two girls only served to confirm it, so it was finally arranoed thata‘hey should not return till morning.- The cart was just turning the comer of the lane when it came into my mind for the first time, that Fred being also away, I should have to spend the night alone in Ivy Lodge; and I rememberedn further, that I had 111 bthe house aconsiderable sum of money, which Ihad drawn from the banks on the previous day for a certain purpose, and which was still ly- ing untouched up-stairs. The feeling was not a comfortable one at the moment; bntI am not naturally a ner- vous woman, and I soon banished the subject from my mind as one not worthy of much consideration. Besides, Wolf, the large house- dog, would be protection enough forone night; and I determined to release him from his chain at dusk, and let him have the run of the premises. Then, again, who was to know I had been to the bank on the previous day, and still had the money in the house? So I went indoors, feeling as cheerful as usual, and made myself a comfortable tea; after that, sat working for an hour or two; and then feeling the need of a change, put my sewing away, and took up a book which Fred had brought me from Westbury a few days before. It was The Night-Side of Na.- tare, a volume with which you are probably well acquainted. Situated as I was, having to pass a night by myself in a lonely country house, it was, with its strange narrative of apparitions and ghostly appearances, one of the worst books I could have chosen to read before going to bed. I was not long in per- ceiving this, but the fascination of thesubject “ Ifthey are likely to be very late,” I said, “it Will, 1 think, be best for them to stay all night at your house, and get back first thing in the morning in time for breakfast.” was srich that I could not quit it ; and I read on quickly, leaf after leaf, till'I had got half through the book, when, looking up, I wasl surprised to find that the fire was nearly out,l and the clock on the point of twelve. I shut the book, and rose at once to go to bed.â€" “How about Wolf?” I said to myself. “Shall I go and release him, or leave him chained to his:kennel ? I would have him indoors for the night, only I know he would do nothing but seamper up and down stairs till morning, and put sleep entirely out of the question.” I fled the door of the passage leading 1!! , ‘ ’, _ h the‘.‘ intention ofxre'lEas- ing the dog, but at the same moment, I felt a sudden nervous tremor shoot through me, such as I had never experienced before, and a strange disinclinatioh to move out of the. lighted parlor into the darker parts of the house. I sat down again in my chair to ar- gue the point with myself, and prove to my- self the absurdity of my fears. This I did qurte conclusively, and in a very short time, but nevertheless I determined not to go and release Wolf. “1 have had a slight cold for the last two days,” I said to myself, “and it l would not be advisable for me to go out of this warm room into the night-air.” Having ' found no reasonable excuse for myself,I determined no longer to delay going to bed ; so Ipnt out the lamp ; and lighted my bed-I room candle without further party ; and car‘ rying in my hand a little tisane, which I had compounded for myself as a soverign re- medy for a cold in the head, I proceeded slowly and cautiously on my journey up- stairs. Isay slowly and cautiously, for the influence of the book I had been reading was still strongly upon me, and I found it requr- site to pause for a moment at every second or third step in my progress upward, and glance back fearfully over my shoulder, expecting to see I knew not whatâ€"nothing, and yet something; perhaps ablack, formless, crouch- ing creature, stealing noiselessly up stairs, and only waiting an ungarded moment to clutch me by the dress, and pull me back- ward; perhaps a gigantic phantom hand pro- truded from each door after I had passed it, menacing me with the anger of some power1 unknown ;- perhaps a white corpse-like face glaring over my shoulder, with sightless eye- balls and purple lip5° Inwardly annoyed l with myself as I was for being so absurd, I couldnot for the world have gone upstairs that night in my usual careless fashion. But, thank Heaven! here was my bedroom at last. One more fearful glance over my shoulder. and then I hurried in, and closed and bolted the door with a sigh of relief. “How I shall laugh at myself to-morrow for these idle fears,” I said; “but, in any case,I won’t spend another night alone in Ivy Lodge.” “Yes, there it isâ€"comingâ€"coming!” I whispered to myself, as a figure, black and vague. but still of human shape, rose slowly from the floor, till it reached what seemed to me a morethan mortal stature, outlining itself as it rose against the white disc of the win- dewâ€"blind. There was not, however much time for consideration, for the next minute the blinding glare of a dark lantern was thrown full in my dazzled eyes, and a hoarse voice, a voice with a chronic cold in its tones, exclaimed :-â€"“Now, mum, will you oblige me by getting up again? Sorry to disturb a lady, but it cant‘t he helped this time.” l {‘1th a vulgar burglar after all 3 When lgot into bed, my ghostly terrors vanished 1n some measure, but 1n their stead I became oppresed W1th a melanchooly un- defined presentment of some impendmg evil near at hand, but whence or how coming I could not tell. Feeling thirsty after a time, I put out my hand to reach the tisane, which stood on a low chair by the side of the bed, when-â€" horror of horrors lâ€"rny wrist was suddenly clutched by a death-cold hand, which grasp- ed it for a single instant, and then let 1t go. It is not too much to say that my heart ceased to beat, and all the pulse of life seemed to stand still in awful fear but for a moment ; the next, they burst madly on their courses ; a cold sweat wrapped me from head to foot, and I lay with wildly staring eyes, momently expecting the appearance of some dread ap- paratton. I” “If you had only written to say you were commg, I would have sat up for you,” I said, aloud. The revulsion of feeling, from the ghostly terrors ot the minute betore, was so great, that all my saangfroicl came back at once ; and a prediciment which at another time I should have deemed serious enough, seemed to me at the moment as but a matter of com- paratively little consequence. “How has the fellow got into my room without being seen or heard?” was the first question I asked myself a question, by the way, which at the present moment Iam equally unable to solve, for a mystery it was then, and a mystery it remains. “I quted to give you apleasanl surprise,” he replied, wnh a. gun. “Are you going to get up?” “Presently. Just step outside that door for a moment, while I put on a few Clothes.” “None of your tricks, now!” he said, roughly, “ ’cos I won’t stand ’ern.” “Your are forgetting your manners, sir, to a lady.” “Well, you’re a cool hand, anyhow 3” So saying, he went outside the door, holding it, however, carefully, both with hand and foot, while I hurried on my clothes. ‘ _ _ _ ._â€"v 7-- u", "v'--VIJ' l began by this time to feel rather more alarmed than at first, but still I thought it would never do to show it: to treat such a man with polite audacity; if my nerves would only carry me through the contest, was evi- dently the best plan I could adopt. “ I am at your service,” I said in a couple A of miuples or so. “Then light your candle, and go down stairs; you in front, me behind. But first hand me over that gimcrack watch of yours: I always had a fancy for a lady’s ticker.” “You must be careful not to turn the key more than six times, when you wind it up, or you may break the spring,”Il said, handing him with an inward sigh my watch and chain. Now that the candle was lighted,I was able tosee more clearly what the fellow was like. Both hands and face were thoroughly blackened, and his head was further disguiSo ed with a rough flaxen wig and a fur-cap. He wore a thick woolen comforter round his? neck, and a capacicus top coat concealed the rest of his person. I determined to keep both eyes and ears open, to note any little pe- culiarity, either of voice or person, which might afterwards aid me in -- identifying him. It seemed to me unaccountable, that on that night of all others, when, for the first time since my arrival at Ivy Lodge, I happened to have anything like a large some of money in the house, I should have to entertain such a visitor. It was almost hoping without hope but still it was just possible that he might not be aware of my Visit to the bank, and might not find the money in his search. But the question was quickly decided for me.â€" When we reached the loot of the stair, I go- ing first, and the man following closely be- hmd me, he said: “Stop a moment. Let us pay our first visit to that little room on the left, where you keep your books, and where there’s a ’an’some rosewood desk, in which, at the present mo- ment, there’s two hundred pounds 111 good moneyâ€"seventy in sovereigns, and the re- mainder in flimpseysâ€"numbers all known, no doubt, but still disposable in the proper quarter.” How in the name of goodnessâ€"or badness â€"â€"-had he obtamed such precise qurmatlon? There was nothing for- it but to obey, so I conducted him into my study, opened my es- critoire, and quietly handed him the money. He counted it over with a complaisaut chuc- kle, and then put it carefully away 111 his vest pocket. “Now, this is whatl calls a comfortable way of doing business," he said; “no fuss, no bother, no cries nor tearsâ€"business-like and proper. I hate folks that snivel and bawl, and always feel inclined to give ’em a quiet tap on the head. If everybody was as sensible as you, mum, our trade would be a pleasanter one than it is. And now I think a few spoons and forks wouldn’t come amiss, for I’m expecting company next week, and would like to do the thing in style. Ah! I wonder who was the first chap that found out it was vulgar to eat with a knife I” Both spoons and forks were soon disposed of, and, sorrow of sorrows, my cherished sil- ver teapot, together with sundry other articles I of plate, placed in a capacious bag which Mr. l Black produced from one of his pockets.â€" “There, mum, I’m pretty well loaded now, thank you,” he said, as he disposed of thel last article. “And it’s truly thankful I am that I come here without a pal, or else I should have had to go shares with him. I knew I could crack a little crib like this by myselfâ€"it’s child’s play, that’s what it is.” He pulled out my watch, and referred to it with an evrdent air of satisfaction. “Why, blow me 5 it wants two hours and a-half yet till daylight. Time for a bit of supper, if you’ve no hobjectionâ€"hey, mum 2” “None whatever,” I replied. “If you will follow me into the dining-room, I will see what I can findforyouf’ “Gosh ! but this is prime, and no mistake!” he exclaimed, turning up his coat-cuffs, as I set before him a cold fowl, a roll of bread, and three parts of old port. “Best quarters I’ve been in for many a _d_ay, hang me, ifit ain’t '” He set to work with savage energy, and sat silent enjoying himself for several minutes ; while I sat watching him closely, and trying to discover some slight personal traits which might assist me hereafter recognizing him again. '“Here’s your health, mum 2” he said after atime, speaking. with a full month, as he held up a glass of wine before the candle; “and the best wishes of a fellow whose heart doesn’t hold too many good wishes for any- body!” Not a. bail-tempered man evidently, when he could have his own way; and not without certain rude elements of politeness in his compositton. thm he hall made. a hearty meal. and finished the win: he pm PRICE, $1 :50, IN ADVANCE- [WHOLE NUMBER, 190 He burst into a great fit of laughter, and slapped his leg again. “Why, it’s my full-dress evening suit that I’ve got on l” he exclaimed: “and-I thought I looked quite fascinating in it. “fell, if you won’t have me, you won’t: there’s no forcâ€" ing an obstinate woman. But let us have a drop more wine instead; there’s more where this came from, I suppose l” “Yes, plenty more in the cellar.” “Then to the cellar we’ll adjourn. Gosh! but it’s prime stutl' to stir a fellow’s blood.â€" Take a candle and lead the way, if you please.” Taking a candle in one hand, and my bunch of keys in the other, I led the way to- wards the cellar, my black-visaged-friend following closely in my rear. The wine-cel- lar was reached by descending a steep flight of steep stairs, which Opened out of a pass- age leading to the kitchen. At the top of this flight of stairs was a slight door, partly made of glass; and at the foot of the stairs was another and astronger door, usually kept locked. Having descended the stairs, still holding the lighted candle, I unlocked the lower door, and we both entered the cellar, a small vaulted apartment, just high enough for a man to stand upright in. I pointed to, the various ranges of bottles, and said to Mr. Black :â€"“Pick and choose where you please. That row close to the floor is all port; per- haps that will suit you best.” ‘-‘I h.' :‘Couldn’t improve on the last lot. But I say, mum, it wouldn’t be amiss {or me to car- ry away a couple of bottles, ifâ€"ha, ha !-â€"-you wouldn’t think it too great a liberty; and [’11 crack another up etairs before I go.” “Thank you, but I’m not in want of a hus- band at present,” I said, “and even if I were I should prefer seeing you with your face washed before deciding t‘o aeeept you.” vâ€"“vâ€" “Yofi have sfich a. polite wa)7 of making your wishes known,” I said, “that I find it imppssip}9 to reque you.” 1 - 1 . ° 1 -_-_r. -...-__ Chuckling to himself, he bent down to pick out some bottles from the lower tier; while he was thus stoopiug, I gave him a sudden push with all the strength of my two bands, which sent him crashing head first among the bottles; and before he knew what had happened, or could recover himself in the least, I had blown out the candle, and rush- ing to the staircase, had pulled to and double- locked the door behind me. In doing this, I had acted entirely without forethought, and on the impulse of the moment, without at all calculating the consequences to which it might lead, and Inow sank down on the stairs in the dark with a heart that beat as though it must burst its bounds. Mr. Black quickly picked himself up, with many oaths, from among the broken bottles, and stumbled to- wards the door. “What fool’s trick is this '2” he shouted through the keyhole. “Open the door, you hadr or I’ll murder you when I get UUUI', yuu 11:13.5, U1 1. u illusuun Jvu u slvnu - by.- out l” But I had struggled up the stairs, and was away in the kitchen by this time, where I quickly relighted the candle. Leaving the candle for a moment, I hurried to the back- door, and unfastening it, called, at first, gent- ly, and then louder, for Wolf ; but hearing no growl of recognition, or joyful bark in reply,l hastened as fast as I could across the yard to his kennel; and there, by the faint light of the stars, saw my poor dog lying dead and coldâ€"poisoned, doubtless, by that miscreant in the cellar. .‘O btiv vv This cruel deed seemed to set my blood all aflame with hatred of the man; the loss of my poor favorite touched my feelings far more closely than the loss of my money and plate had done; and with my dread of the wretch swallowed up in a great measure in my desire for vengeance, I hastened back to the house, contrary 'to my first impulse. which had been to rush away and hide my- self in the darkness. But what had I to fear now? Was he not trappedâ€"shut up secure- ly in the cellar, there to await his doom ?â€"-â€" Suddenly I remembered that there was gen- erally a brace of pistols hanging over the fireplace in Fred’s little room; should the man succeed in bursting looseâ€"though I had little fear of it, for the door was very strong -â€"they might prove useful ; but on coming to examine them I found that they were not load- ed. All this time, Mr. Black was exerting his utmost strength to break open the door; but it was stoutly built, and so far defied .all his efforts. I placed. the candlestick or): “I; All” unnvgvgv a bracket at the top of the stairs, and stood close bv with my brace of empty pistols, dreading every moment that the door would give 'way and the miscreant rush upon me. and yet with a stubborn drop of blood in my heart, which bade me not to flee so long as there’remained a chance, however remote, of capturing him. He ceased his eflorts alter a time, and I could hear him moving about in the dark. What was he about to do ? Not long wasI left in doubt, for I had hardly asked myself the question, when the noise of a pistol-shot resounded through the house, responded to by a scream from me; the door at the bottom of the stairs fell back on its hinges; he had shotmatnvay the bolt. “Now. a “a- ._:-a_ I” I l' .w.. __ V J‘unv “Ha, ha! what a jolly lark !” he exclaim«- ed, with a wretched attempt at a iaugh. “I said an along that you was a brick. But I 833°,1ntun,just 111m them harkesrb H'K'ay {1‘1” U‘ 11‘] v'â€"â€"__ “Come one step. nearer, and you are a dead man'!” I exclagmpd, standing at the top of the stairs, and pomtmg both pistols full at He turned yellow with fear, even through the iamp-biack with which his face was smeared, as he glanced up and saw, me standing there; and dropping the bottles, he shrunk book into the darkest corner of the cellar. "at ‘116 U LVItI vâ€"â€"' ._ , hinges; he had shot away the bolt. “New, mum, I’ll pay you off for your little trick l” I heard him say’. The next instant I saw him, with a bottle in each hand, and a large open knife between his teeth, emerge cut of the gloom into the dull twilight made by the light of my candle at the entrance to the cellar- __ -l -LA'. ruin a him.