e quite ready, and
a great deal more willing, considering the late frightful rise in
Lynchburg, to do it for them. I can answer for burning one pound a day
myself. What do you think of it? It isn't traitorous in me, is it, to
thus desire to aid and assist the enemy?

Yours truly,

RAUCHER.

* * * * *

A CURE FOR STEALING.

Far back among the days of yore
There's many a pleasing tale in store,
Rich with the humor of the time,
That sometimes jingle well in rhyme.
Of these, the following may possess
A claim on 'hours of idleness.'
When Governor Gurdon Saltonstall,
Like Abram Lincoln, straight and tall,
Presided o'er the Nutmeg State,
A loved and honored magistrate,
His quiet humor was portrayed
In Yankee tricks he sometimes played.
The Governor had a serious air,
'Twas solemn as a funeral prayer,
But when he spoke the mirth was stirred,--
A joke leaped out at every word.
One morn, a man, alarmed and pale,
Came to him with a frightful tale;
The substance was, that Jerry Style
Had _stolen wood_ from off his pile.
The Governor started in surprise,
And on the accuser fixed his eyes.
'He steal my wood! to his regret,
Before this blessed sun shall set,
I'll put a final end to _that_.'
Then, putting on his stately hat,
All nicely cocked and trimmed with lace,
He issued forth with lofty grace,
Bade the accuser; duty mind,'
And follow him 'five steps _behind_.'
Ere they a furlong's space complete,
They meet the culprit in the street;
The Governor took him by the hand--
That lowly man! that Governor grand!--
Kindly inquired of his condition,
His present prospects and position.
The man a tale of sorrow told--
That food was dear, the winter cold,
That work was scarce, and times were hard,
And very ill at home they fared,--
And, more than this, a bounteous Heaven
To them a little babe had given,
Whose brief existence could attest
This world's a wintry world at best.
A silver crown, whose shining face
King William's head and Mary's grace,
Dropped in his hand. The Governor spoke,--
His voice was cracked--it almost broke,--'If
work is scarce, and times are hard,
There's a _large wood-pile in my yard;
Of that you may most freely use,
So go and get it when you choose_.'
Then on he walked, serenely feeling
That there he'd put an end to stealing.
The accuser's sense