By the light of that fire my friend and I left the town; and when far away we could see its glare, and hear the shouts of a disenthralled people.
After a few months' travel in the south and west, I revisited Tapville, or rather the place where it once stood; but no Tapville was there. The town had regained its former sobriety and quiet, and became "Springvale."
I called at the widow's cottage; Tommy ran out to meet me, and I received a welcome I shall never forget. But Jenny was no more; with her last breath she had blessed the temperance cause, and then her pure spirit winged its way to that home where sorrows never come, and where the troubles of earth are forgotten amid the joys of heaven.
THE BATTLE OF THE RED MEN.
'T WAS cold, bleak winter, on a rock-bound coast,
When bands of exiles trod its frozen shore.
Who then stood forth to greet the coming host
And shelter freely give when storms did pour?
Old Samoset-peace to his memory still!-
He bade them welcome, welcome, with good will.
Then was the red man's nation broad and strong-
O'er field and forest he held firm control;
Then power was his to stay the coming throng,
And back the wave of usurpation roll.
He might have crushed them on old Plymouth's rock,
And freedom to this day have felt the shock.
Not so he willed it; he would have them sit
In peace and amity around his door;
The pipe of peace in friendship would have lit,
And, as its white cloud up towards heaven did soar,
Learned that like it the spirits pure and white