an instance," said the little man, looking up thoughtfully at the gilded weathercock. "Here were once heard words of truth from the lips of men who have long passed from us, but who are gratefully remembered by many, as honored patriarchs of Colonial times. Here knelt the great and noble Washington, and here many a patriot soul prayed with him for success to the able cause of independence. And here many a soldier of the Revolution wasted his life away in cruel imprisonment, which alone would seem to consecrate the building with sufficient interest to preserve it from the attacks of Vandalism. And now, all these proud recollections are almost destroyed by a most sacrilegious act. That gold might be saved, the idle searcher after news is allowed to trample over the spot where Washington worshipped, and where his suffering troops poured forth their last sighs in prayer for his success."

"It is so, and shame upon the men who have done this deed!" I exclaimed, catching my companion's enthusiasm, and then, stretching forth my hand, I added;

Sir, we are men of kindred sentiment, and since such so seldom meet together in this altered city, we should not part without a further acquaintance. My name is Byvank Marschalk."

"Of Marschalk Manor?" he hastily enquired, seizing my hand in his.

"The same."

"Up the Hudson among the Highlands?"

"Yes."

"Good God! And is it really so? To his dying day, Antony Van Noortstrandt will bless the time he met you. Why sir, our fathers were not unknown to each other. Many a time have I heard mine speak of his valued friend Marschalk, and how he once visited him at his Manor, and how they sat and smoked and told their wondrous tales to each other. The good Saint Nicholas be praised that I have encountered you!"

"The good Saint can claim but little praise, I fear," I observed, and then proceeded to tell him how I was induced to visit the city, at all of which narrative he laughed heartily.

"And I, like you, am left alone!" he muttered, after a few more congratulations had passed between us. My parents are gone; I never had brother or sister; I am the last of my family." Then come with me to the old Manor-House, and, as our fathers did, so we will sit and tell our several histories."

He needed little persuasion, but almost from the first said; "I accept your proposal as freely as it was offered. But you must first stay with me for a few days. I have no relations of whom to take leave, to be sure. They all sleep in the quiet churchyard. But business, which has kept me in the city when I would much rather have been ranging the fields, must claim some little attention before I can accompany you."

He took my arm in his and I walked with him to his house.

CHAPTER SIXTH,

Showeth forth my return to the Manor-House.

Two days I remained with my friend, during which time we visited every part of the great city. And between my admiration of the present and veneration of the past, my mind was so completely beset with conflicting emotions, that I ardently longed to get back to my Manor-House, where I might spend my days in less exciting occupations.

Towards the end of the second day, while I was sitting with Antony in his parlor, he suddenly burst forth into a loud laugh, and pushing his newspaper towards me, pointed out a particular paragraph for my perusal. My amusement upon reading it was as great as his, but somewhat mingled with alarm. Here is the notice.

INFORMATION WANTED,

Concerning the whereabouts of Byvank Marschalk of MarschalkManor, who left his house upon the 17th and has not since been heard from. It is supposed that he was seized with sudden derangement, as he was seen to depart late at night, contrary to the advice of an old family servant, and without making the slightest preparations for an absence of any length. Any one bringing information concerning him shall be liberally recompensed, and ifas is feared-he has committed suicide, a large reward will be paid for the recovery of his body.

Then followed an accurate and lengthy description of my per son, and the whole was signed by one of the town officers of the village of Cold-Spring.

"Vastly pleasant, all this!" I remarked. "But still the affair is likely to be attended with some inconveniences. I can imagine how poor Claes must have waited until the next day in doleful expectation of my reäppearance, and then, becoming too much alarmed to remain any longer inactive, roused up the whole town to hunt for my luckless body. Then consider how every idle vagabond within the circle of ten miles must have trampled through my fields and trimmed out my hedges, in hopes of finding me, and thereby gaining a nice little fund for six months coming dissipation. And how many times do you suppose that my fishponds have been dragged, and my well drained, for the same purpose? It is quite time that I returned to my estate, in order to put a stop to such summary proceedings."

"We will set out to-morrow if you wish," said Van Noortstrandt. "But you must be cautious how you approach your Manor," he added, an inexpressibly funny twinkle gleaming in his eyes. "Ten to one, that if you are recognized within five miles of ColdSpring, you will be set upon by a crowd of ignorant rascals, dragged from your horse, bound hand and foot, and carried home in triumph, all your remostrances and explanations being received as so many evidences of an unsettled state of mind.

I verily believe that Antony would have enjoyed such a scene as an excellent joke, but to me it appeared in a very different light. "Stranger mistakes than that have happened," was my lugubrious reflection.

However, no such interruption was destined to await us. We travelled on horseback, and after eight hours easy riding, drew near my estate. And as we turned a corner of the road and saw the old yellow house before us, I could not restrain my glee, while Van Noortstrandt clapped his hands with delight.

"I like the looks of your place amazingly, Marschalk," he said. "I never was in one of these old family mansions, with its embattled gables and small irregular windows, but what I felt at home immediately."

"Which I expect you to do now, for I intend to keep you near me for many a month to come," was my answer.

And as I spoke, we turned into the broad gateway, and beheld Claes walking up and down the gravel walk, scratching his head, and probably forming an hundred absurd conjectures as to my fate.

The noise of our horses' hoofs awakened him from his dark revery, and he hobbled towards us with a quicker pace than I should have supposed him capable of exerting.

How he for some time obstinately persisted in believing that I was insane, and that Antony had somehow caught me skulking in the woods and was now bringing me home to be placed behind bars and locks;-and how, when I began to be angry at his perversity, he suddenly agreed to acknowledge my sanity, and certified his happiness by many an awkward caper;-and how, for a long time, he tried to laugh, but for the life of him could do nothing but cry;-all this would have afforded great enjoyment to a disinterested spectator, but Van Noortstrandt and myself had other things to thing of, and quickly hurried on to the house. And every few minutes during the rest of the day, the old negro would leave his tasks, present himself before me, feast his eyes upon the evidences of my identity, grin his satisfaction, and disappear, without having said a single word.

Antony now ran from room to room, expressing his delight at all he saw, with the most enthusiastic eulogiums. But particularly the library claimed his admiration. Here he could not remain satisfied until he had handled every thing some twenty times. And here I discovered a new trait in my friend, which was to take the exact dimensions of every article which ever came in his way. Drawing a jointed rule from his pocket, he proceeded to measure the extent and breadth of every antler, then ascertained the length of the little cannon, embracing it all the while as though it was a living friend, afterwards sounded the depth of a huge family punch bowl, which stood above my book case, and indeed, allowed nothing in the whole room to escape from an application of the little ivory instrument. And all this he seemed to do from mere

habit, for he always forgot the required dimensions, as soon as ascertained.

I now drew Antony's attention to my family portraits, of which I am very proud, and, as I think justly, for how few in the present day can show, by any other proof than the usual inference gained from an observation of the laws of nature, that they have ever had any ancestors at all?

"Observe this full length portrait, representing a young man in the prime of life. He leans upon the scabbard of his sword, and is dressed in the costume which distinguished the citizen soldier in the days of Stuyvesant. It is the portrait of Balthazar Marschalk, whose history I may perhaps some day relate to you. "Tell me now, my friend."

"Nay, it is too long a history.-Now turn and see a portrait painted at a later period, the negro plot. An old man sitting at his table, reading. The painting, unlike most of my others, is coarse and stiff, but the family crest painted darkly in one corner, a custom which prevailed very extensively at one time, shows its antiquity, and consequently, to my mind, its value."

"To be sure."

"Here is the wife of the last, though her portrait was taken, as you perceive, when she was a fair maiden, unacquainted with the baneful influence of old age. This is my favorite of the whole collection. Could there be, think you, an attitude of more combined grace and dignity, or a finer exhibition of artistical coloring? She is portrayed as gentle and affable, and yet as one who would insensibly command respectful homage from all around her." "True," said Van Noortstrandt.

"Now let me direct your attention to the period when the province, which had been lost under the rule of Stuyvesant, once more and for the last time, came into the possession of Holland. A full length figure, holding an open letter in the right hand. 'Tis my name-sake, Byvank Marschalk."

"Was not Byvank a favorite name in your family?"

"It was.

It was borne by no fewer than four in a direct line, though all have not their likenesses perpetuated. But to this picture. For a display of grace and dignity, to my mind it almost equals the one I have just showed you.'

"I am no judge of the arts," Van Noortstrandt remarked. "Yet there is something in these portraits which most sensibly impresses me with pleasant feelings."

"Here are many portraits of lesser size and more careless execution, but all valuable to me. There is Nicholas Marschalk who figured slightly in the Revolution, and is therefore taken in a costume semi-military, semi-civil. Here is Emmetje, his wife, painted when in the decline of life. On the other side I can show you Johannes Marschalk, who, having been addicted to field sports, is represented with dog and musket. And there is Carl, who, having never read a book in his life, chose to be represented as poring

intently over a huge quarto. Every family has its black sheep; and, with regard for the honor of the line, I must say that Carl was a complete unmitigated dunce."

"I once had some family portraits, but where they are now, I cannot directly say," Antony remarked.

"Look them up, my friend. Spare neither time nor money in collecting them again. They will give you much quiet pleasure through life, and prove a most valuable bequest to your heirs at your death.

"My heirs! And who are they?" Antony muttered.

I felt that I had unwittingly touched upon a tender chord, but my friend did not require a very long time to recover himself, for when I looked around again, I found him trying on a long waistcoat and cocked hat, and filling a beautiful pipe of rare workmanship, preparatory to smoking it. But I withheld his hand.

"Permit me to refuse you that gratification. That pipe was last smoked by Washington himself, during a short stay which he once made at my Manor-House, and no other lips have been permitted to touch it since then."

Van Noortstrandt put down the pipe with a sigh, and recompensed himself with another survey of my collection.

"A marvellous cabinet, Marschalk! Would that I were situated as you are, with nothing to do from morning till night, except to sit in that great carved arm-chair and read. In truth it must be a most happy lot."

With playful force I pushed my friend into the chair and held him down, until he had promised to stay with me for many a coming month.

[To be continued.]

LEGENDS OF 1689-90.

BY MISS GODDARD.

FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW.

The name of Alexander Glen, yet lives in history, though himself and his appertainings, have long since crumbled to dust. He is well known as having been one of "the most considerable men" of Schenectady, in early times; and, coupled with his fame as a citizen, is his account of his remarkable escape, during the horrors of the massacre, together with his successful interference for his family and friends.

We are told that his house stood on the opposite side of the river from Schenectady, and that consequently, during the night it was overlooked by the main body of the French and their savage allies.