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THOMAS LURTIN G.

143

And then, fearless of danger, they steered for the Barbary coast, and made those fierce, mustached pirates get into a small boat (they had been for ever locked up else), and rowed them to the shore; and when the Turks found themselves in a small boat with but a small crew of broad-brims, and gave signs of mutiny, what did the brave Thomas Lurting? Lay violent hands on them? Draw a cutlass, or cock a pistol? No, he merely struck the leader a pretty heavy blow with a boat-hook, telling him to sit still and be quiet,' as he says himself, 'thinking it was better to stun a man than to kill him.' And so he got the pirates on shore, and in their own country. Brave Thomas Lurting! True? Of course, it is true.

"The most singular spectacle I ever witnessed was the burial-service over a Quaker, in a Catholic cathedral. He had formerly been the rigidest of his sect-a man who had believed the mitre and crozier to be little better than the horns and tail of the evil one-a man who had looked upon church music and polygamy with equal abhorrence, and who would rather have been burnt himself than burn a Roman candle on the anniversary of the national jubilee. Yet, by one of those inexplicable

inconsistencies, peculiar to mere men, but rare among Quakers, he had seceded from the faith of his fathers, and become one of the most zealous of papists.

"The grand altar was radiant with wax tapers; the priests on either side, in glittering dresses, were chanting responses; the censer boys, in red and white garments, swung the smoke of myrrh and frankincense into the air, and as the fragant mist rolled up and hung in rosy clouds under the lofty, stained-glass windows, the great organ panted forth the requiem. Marvellously contrasted with this pomp and display appeared the crowd of broadbrims and stiff-plaits, the friends and relatives of the deceased. Never, perhaps, had such an audience been grathered in such a place in the world before. The scene, to the priests themselves, must have been novel and striking. Instead of the usual display of reverence, instead of the customary show of bare heads and bended knees, every Quaker stood stoutly on his legs, with his broad-brimmed hat clinging to his head as strongly as his faith to his heart. Disciplined as they had been in many a silent meeting, during the entire mass not one of the broad-brims moved an inch until the service

BROADBRIMS IN A CATHEDRAL. 145

was over. Then the coffin was opened and solemnly, silently, decorously, the brethren and sisters moved towards it to look, for the last time, upon the face of the seceder. Then silently, solemnly, decorously, they moved from the Popish temple. I saw,' said one of the sisters, that he (meaning the departed ex-Quaker) had on worked slippers with silver soles, what does thee think that was for?' The person spoken to wore a hat with a goodly brim. Without moving his head, he rolled around, sideways, two Quakeristic eyes, large blue eyes, with little inky dots of pupils, like small black islands in oceans of buttermilk, and said, awfully'I suppose they was to walk through Purgatory with.""

"I do not believe it," said Mrs. Sparrowgrass. "Nevertheless, my dear, it is true," I replied; true, every word of it. You have not seen all the world yet, my dear; it is a very large place-a very large place, indeed, Mrs. Sparrowgrass."

CHAPTER XI.

Our new Horse improves-He is loaned to to a Neighbor, and disgraces himself -Autumnal Vegetation-The Palisades and Rock Cataract-An agreeable Surprise-Mr. Sparrowgrass takes a short trip to the County of Broome-Meets with a Disappointment on his Return, but indulges in a flowing vein of "Adversity's sweet milk."

OUR new horse waxes fat. He takes kindly to his feed, and has already eaten himself into the shape of a bell-pear. As he was suffering from want of exercise, I loaned him, for a few days, to a neighbor, who was moving his chattels into a new house. He was quite serviceable for a time, and really would have done very well, but for a sudden return of his epilepsy as he was carrying a load of crockery. I think our neighbor has acquitted me of any malicious intention in letting him have the animal, but his wife always meets me with a smile as fine as a wire. In fact, she told Mrs. Sparrowgrass it was of no consequence, that it was all right, and she never would have thought of it at all,

CONDITION OF OUR HORSE. 147

if it had not been for an old family teapot that had belonged to her grandmother, that could not be replaced "a thing, my dear, the family has always set a great deal of store by." Confound the family teapot! If it were really so choice a piece of porcelain, what did they put it in the wagon for? Why didn't they carry it by hand? I suppose we will have that broken teapot alluded to, every now and then, at village tea-parties, for years

to come.

Our horse waxes fat. I had serious thoughts of parting with him once, but the person who was negotiating for him wanted me to take another horse in exchange, and pay him a sum of money to boot, which seemed to be, at least, as much as, if not more than, both horses were worth. Upon consultation with Mrs. S., I declined the trade.

Notwithstanding the continued warm weather, the leaves already manifest the visible approaches of autumn. Earliest of all, the velvet-podded sumach hangs its fringe of fire, here and there, in the heart of the deep old wood. Then the sugarmaples, golden at the top, and the deeper green leaves of the swamp-maple, are bound with a florid border. The pointed foliage of the gum-tree comes

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