ng lad; but then he had
neither money or land. Wolfert's ideas all ran in one channel, and he
saw no alternative in case of a marriage, but to portion off the young
couple with a corner of his cabbage garden, the whole of which was
barely sufficient for the support of his family.

Like a prudent father, therefore, he determined to nip this passion in
the bud, and forbade the youngster the house, though sorely did it go
against his fatherly heart, and many a silent tear did it cause in the
bright eye of his daughter. She showed herself, however, a pattern of
filial piety and obedience. She never pouted and sulked; she never flew
in the face of parental authority; she never fell into a passion, or
fell into hysterics, as many romantic novel-read young ladies would do.
Not she, indeed! She was none such heroical rebellious trumpery, I
warrant ye. On the contrary, she acquiesced like an obedient daughter;
shut the street-door in her lover's face, and if ever she did grant him
an interview, it was either out of the kitchen window, or over the
garden fence.

Wolfert was deeply cogitating these things in his mind, and his brow
wrinkled with unusual care, as he wended his way one Saturday afternoon
to a rural inn, about two miles from the city. It was a favorite resort
of the Dutch part of the community from being always held by a Dutch
line of landlords, and retaining an air and relish of the good old
times. It was a Dutch-built house, that had probably been a country
seat of some opulent burgher in the early time of the settlement. It
stood near a point of land, called Corlears Hook, which stretches out
into the Sound, and against which the tide, at its flux and reflux,
sets with extraordinary rapidity. The venerable and somewhat crazy
mansion was distinguished from afar, by a grove of elms and sycamores
that seemed to wave a hospitable invitation, while a few weeping
willows with their dank, drooping foliage, resembling falling waters,
gave an idea of coolness, that rendered it an attractive spot during
the heats of summer.

Here, therefore, as I said, resorted many of the old inhabitants of the
Manhattoes, where, while some played at the shuffle-board and quoits
and ninepins, others smoked a deliberate pipe, and talked over public
affairs.

It was on a blustering autumnal afternoon that Wolfert made his visit
to the inn. The grove of elms and willows was stripped of its leaves,
which whirled in rustling eddies about th