him Joseph Greatheart.

What I know of him

has put a thread of melancholy in my life; but it has not had the effect to take the springs of purpose out of me, but to encourage me the rather. If I hear of Joe's death in time, I will go to the funeral.

"Envy, eldest born of hell, imbrued

Her hands in blood, and taught the sons of men
To make a death which nature never made.
And God abhorred, with violence rude, to break
The thread of life ere half its length was run,
And rob a brother of its being."

-PORTEUS.

"Between the acting of a dreadful thing
And the first motion, all the interim is
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream."

AKESPEARE.

FATHER had a half-brother, Welborn Blan

nerhassett, who lived three miles to the northeast of us, across the canal and beyond the breaks of Honey Creek. He was a man of splendid parts. He had friends everywhere, and no known enemies. He possessed both business ability and public spirit. He was a

leader in the community, and very popular. As a man and citizen his praise was on all lips. But his wife was a vixen. She was coarse and uncouth in appearance, and a bad spirit. She was morose and scowling and dissatisfied. What possessed Uncle Welborn to marry her, I do not know. If men always exercised good judgment in selecting wives, some women would never get married at all—a statement as completely true when turned the other way. They say John Wesley married a regular old hectoration. I don't know about that; but I do know that Uncle Welborn was sorrowfully mismated. He was refined in spirit, and ambitious for the best things; she was slovenly, with a mind full of vulgarities, and having no ambition but for her own ease. She had no capacity to appreciate him, and it was her delight to make him miserable. What he thought no one ever knew-he was simply silent. No. word of disparagement of his wife ever escaped him. His provision for her was on the principle of taking her "for better or for worse." In this case it was "for worse.' Uncle Welborn did the work in the house and in the field. She was too lazy to work, too lazy to keep herself clean. She sat in her old chair, played sick, and smoked her pipe, and got as

fat as a hog. This woman had a brother, Jim Handy—another gloomy and, many believed, an evil spirit-who wandered up and down the country, a general and worthless vagabond. Elenor that was uncle's wife's name-wanted this graceless scamp to have right of way to all that was on the farm and in the house. For years Uncle Welborn had practically supported Jim. One day Jim was informed that he must henceforth provide for himself. That was a piece of disagreeable news to Jim. There was no quarrel. Uncle Welborn was never known to quarrel with his wife. When she railed out on him, he whistled. A thousand times he had whistled her out of court. A day or so after this notice to Jim to quit the premises, uncle had retired early, and had gone to sleep. Elenor was still up, pottering in and out, and Jim was still up, when Uncle Welborn's skull was crushed with his own ax. Neither of these two saw any sign of any one going or coming. They heard. no noise of any kind. The ax had been returned to the wood-pile, and deliberately stuck into the end of a log. Elenor had been in the room once after the deed was done, and had not noticed it, she said. When it was discovered, she started Jim to our house; but he got lost, and never did his errand. He had to this time

been playing crazy for several months. He was so foxy sharp that he made a few believe he was demented. Jack Graham, returning from town, was called in, and brought father the news, and also went for the doctor.

Father took a dim path through the woods to a crossing in the canal, where a canoe was kept. The canoe was on the opposite side from him, and he had to swim the canal. He reached

the house about three o'clock in the morning. Elenor was there alone with the murdered man. She had done nothing to him, nor for him. She was sitting in the corner in a sullen way, smoking her pipe. Father says:

"Where is Welborn; is he dead?"

"No, he is not dead."

Then she affected to cry. She did not cry; she only whined. Father went to the bed. There was a slow and labored breathing-nothing more. He saw the depression in his forehead, and knew what the weapon was. He went to the wood-pile, found the ax, and brought it in, and saw plainly that it had been used. By this time two physicians were there. Before daylight the skull-bone was lifted, and uncle was lucid for a moment.

Father said to him:

"How was it done, Welborn?"