RUNNING OFF.

BY THE EDITOR.

The dog barked at the moon.

What did the moon do?

He went on his way!

WHAT we are about to write will look and sound like a story or a tale; but be it known to the reader, that it is neither of these, but veritable history. It is not even "founded on fact," but it is factstory, moral, and all.

In one of those beautiful and peaceful valleys in which our beloved Pennsylvania so much abounds, there lived aforetime a boy whom we shall call Edwin. We knew him well; and are therefore in a position to record that chapter in his life to which our present writing refers. His father was a farmer; and little Edwin was early trained to usefulness in such small and light services as a boy can render on a farm; such as riding the horses in the barn floor to thresh out grain, for threshing machines were not yet in those days; driving the stock to the field in summer, carrying wood and chips for the stoves, supplying fresh water to the mowers and reapers in haymaking and harvest time; and a multitude of such other services as make a boy as necessary on a farm as a man, fell to the lot of our boy.

He was not an unwilling lad, but had something of an earnest spirit in him, which even the hot days of summer could not wholly quell and quiet.

There was one service, however, of which our boy sometimes became weary. It was what was called in farmer's parlance, "cleaning the plough." The duty which devolved on a boy in this calling consisted in walking warily and watchfully along side of the moving plough, with a stick about as long as the boy and as thick as his arm, having a short fork at one end, with which it was his duty to push away the stubble or weeds which gathered at the coulter. This was necessary

in order to keep the plough from choking and rising out of the ground. This business devolved a heavy responsibility on the boy that had charge of it; for when he neglected his duty the plough would choke, and glide over the surface for a space, on which the next furrow being cast, left a hole, called by the farmer "a sow hole," or "ploughing round the sow" intending thereby, in sporting reproof, to say that a swine was lying in the furrow, out of respect to which the plowman turned aside. To find a "sow hole" in the field was the same kind of disgrace to the boys, as to find a badly washed dish in the cupboard was to the girls. Consequently many were the times in which the horses were stopped, and the plough drawn back to repair the evil by a second trial. This, where weeds were many and these slides were frequent, was a weary work. No wonder then that the question sometimes rose. between plowman and plow-boy as to who was to blame in the case of a mishap the man for not keeping the plough in, or the boy for not keeping the weeds out..

Moreover, if the blame even rested oftener than it should on the boy, he ought to be judged with charity and kind allowance. Just think of the hot sun which beats down on Pennsylvania farms in July and August! Think of an acre a day in a twenty acre field-total, twenty days! Think of those long forenoons and those long afternoons! Think how narrow the furrows are, and only one made at a trip! Think of this slow, weary, monotonous traveling back and forth almost in the same track day after day! Even the horse in the bark-mill almost looks as if he thought those persons crazy who require him to do, what seems to him the same thing, over and over. Wonder not then that our boy at times grows tired, and even forgetful of his watching and work.

Besides, Edwin was not a sleepy lad, nor had a natural taste for that monotonous kind of life which is allied to sleep. There stirred in him elements which were fain to transcend the ordinary routine of secular life. Though but a boy, he had aspirations—those "high instincts" which

"Move about in worlds not realized."

Though willing to work, yet he felt also that there was something as yet half hid, but coming toward him, better than he yet knew, which must ultimately be added to his present mode of life as its complement, and become of life the true and ultimate end. Of this the boy dreamed in his weariness along side of the plough; and hence we wonder not that he sometimes forgot the weeds and stubble that were gathering round the coulter.

But, says the reader, what has all this to do with the "running off" of our title? Be patient; for it is just this point that we are now coming to. There can be no "running off" unless there is something to run away from! When will men come to look at things philosophically?

It was whilst engaged in this dull business that the "running off" took place. It happened, thus:

The field in which the boy was cleaning the plough, or that side of it most remote from the house, bordered on a wood that stretched far up to the mountain. Near the fence the plough choked and slid over the surface. Whether the boy was to blame, or how far he was to blame, we will not now discuss; but it pleased the plowman, right or wrong, to lay the blame entirely on Edwin; and not only the blame did he lay on him, but he laid on him also some stripes, by means of a green scion which, unfortunately for the boy, lay near at hand.

The boy had spirit in him. He bounded over the fence, and darted into the woods, exclaiming, "I'll run off! I'll run off!" He expected that this demonstration on his part would create a sensation. He thought the man would be alarmed at the danger of losing him, and would follow him, if by any means he might bring him back again, and persuade him from so desperate a purpose as that of "running off." The boy, in running, heard not the fence creak as of one crossing in haste, nor did he hear the sound of running feet behind him, nor yet did he hear any imploring voice calling him back and persuading him by the love of father and mother not to run off. Nothing of the kind; no, not a sign of any one alarmed or coming did he discover. So, having

gotten about a hundred steps into the woods, he stopped behind a tree to look back with a view of discovering to what height the sensation produced by his running off had arisen.

He saw behold, he saw that the ploughman had turned around his team, and without paying any attention whatever to him, was moving calmly toward the other end of the field! He watched him till he got to the other end. Then he saw that he unhitched the horses-for the sun was just setting-and, mounting one, was deliberately riding off toward home! All this he did, just as if there was no Edwin in the world that he had ever heard of, and as if no such awful threats, and such fearful attempts to "run off" had ever been made. There stood our young hero behind the tree. He soon found, however, that it was not necessary for him to conceal himself so carefully, as he was not likely to be taken! So he came out, and moving slowly back toward the fence, still kept watching the plowman moving off toward home. The more he looked behind him, and saw how theevening shades were growing darker in the deep silent wood, the less taste he had for running off any farther in that direction; especially as no one was coming after him, and he had the fun all to himself. There are also always mysterious sounds in a lonely wood, as night steals on. These our boy began to hear; and it may be readily imagined that these aided him in calling to mind some traditious about that woods, the import of which was that all things were not exactly as they ought to be thereabout! Indeed the brave mountaineers used to whistle faster and louder when they passed through that wood, returning home at night from the mill.

Not quite so hastily nor yet with the same feelings as he had passed over before, he crossed the fence back into the field; and cutting across a corner of the field toward the nearest fence that extended in the direction of home, he crept along it, half-afraid in the increasing darkness and wholly ashamed of his "running off." Mortified that he had not been able to make a sensation by his brave demonstration, he found his way to the house nearly as soon as the plowman himself.

He went right to his usual evening work, such as housing the sheep, carrying in wood and chips for the night, and such like-all of which he did quicker, better, and more silently than ever before.

He never once alluded to the alarming events that transpired in the field-never congratulated the plowman, nor his parents, nor his brothers and sisters, on the happy fact that they did not lose him, of which there was such danger but an hour before. He seemed even glad that no one else alluded to the circumstance. At the supper table there was a mischievous smile on the face of the plowman; and the other members of the family cast furtive glances at one another, but the words "running off" were never once mentioned. Indeed, perhaps never was any family in such danger of losing one of its members by running off, where so little commotion or distress followed the brave event.

Being well informed in regard to the life of Edwin, as we before intimated, we can assure the reader that, as the instance mentioned was the first, so it was also the last in which our boy attempted to distress others by an attempt at "running off."

In pointing the moral of our story, let us notice and admire the home

spun philosophy of the plowman. Had he followed Edwin, nothing would have pleased the boy better, and nothing would have aided him more in attaining his end. Had he followed, the boy would have run up to the mountain, and perhaps over it. Not to follow him was to bring him back. As soon as he saw that his "running off" was not cared for by any one, he was glad to return.

Never shall we cease being thankful for the excellent lesson which the "running off" of Edwin has taught us. Often have we seen boys of larger growth, or rather men who were still wont to act like boys, attempt to practice on our Edwin's policy; and we have seen them cured in the same way.

We have known persons who, whenever any matter of public interest was to be inaugurated or carried forward in their neighborhood, would get into a capricious mood, and assume a hostile attitude in reference to it, just for the sake of raising a sensation, and showing how necessary their co-operation in the matter was; and the more they were run after the farther they would run away. It pleased them vastly to be followed and sought after; but just as soon as importance ceased to be placed upon them, they returned of themselves.

There is a class of Church members who are exceedingly fond of playing at the "run off" game. They take offence, often seek occasion for offence, and when they have all their arrangements made for a demonstration-off they go! expecting that the whole Church will tumble down behind them, and looking round at every step to see pastor, elders, deacons, and half the congregation on their heels, begging them for any sake not to " run off!" As long as they see any one after them so long they go. When they see that no one comes they stop, and begin to think how they shall get back, with most credit to themselves. We have long since learned this wisdom: When one is drawn away, by temptation, or gets wrong from want of correct views, follow that one, deliver him from the snare of the fowler, and show him with meekness the right way from which he has wandered; but when one "runs off" from mere caprice, just because he wishes to be followed, and makes a business of endeavoring to get up demonstrations and sensations with a view of showing of how much importance he is, then let him alone, as the best way of hastening his return. When the Church shows that it does not miss him, he will soon show that he misses it; when he sees that it does not need him, he will feel the more that he needs it. Let those who "run off" for the sake of running off, have all the fun to themselves. We have heard of a vixen of a wife who kept her husband in constant distress by exclaiming at every capricious spell she was pleased to take: O I'll drown myself!" He would beg her not to do so; and often brought her back from the direction of the creek, having saved her as he devoutly thought, from a fearful end! At length growing tired of these sensation demonstrations he tried the philosophy of the plowman. She rushed out the front door like a fury with the usual threat: “O I'll drown myself!" "I believe I would" meekly responded the faithful husband, and never rose from his shoe-bench, nor looked up to see the dreadful purpose flashing in her eyes. Rap-a-tap, rap-a-tap went the shoemaker's hammer, with which he united the happy whistling of the "Star Spangled Banner." She heard both in the distance; and dis

covering that the shoemaker not only declined the usual race toward the water, but seemed absolutely cheerful in view of his threatened loss, she was soon after seen coming in at the back door, not having drowned herself then or ever afterwards.

For the good sense there is in it we commend our story to all childre of larger growth who are prone to "run off," and also to all those wh have to do with such as are given to this infirmity.

THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO-BY AN EYE WITNESS.

RY REV. D. WILLERS.

(Second Article.)

THE encampment near Nivelle was but of a short duration. However, detachments were sent out for water, whilst others were in search after wood, in order to cook. The expedition required about half an hour's time. I happened to be sent with a detachment of twelve men. We soon came to a large Farm House, whose inhabitants had left. We found plenty of water, but no furniture in the house. The barn contained a couple of dozen of fine hens, which however were in so high position to obtain, that we declared them, not as the fox in the fable to be sour, but to be unfit for eating. When we came to our encamp ment, the fires were prepared for cooking. But alas! The bugle hor sounds "attention," and again, to be "under arms."

Onward moves Kielmansegge's Brigade towards "Quatre Bras," or Four Arms. But we did not reach that place before we beheld a shocking spectacle of human misery. Already after 15 minutes departure, we saw wounded men, scattered along the road, whose groans and complaints moved our hearts to sympathy. But soon afterwards the numbers of wounded, a part of whom were walking, amounted to hundreds. They were Highlanders, or, as they are sometimes called, "Sans Culottes." Noble looking men, who bore the sign of bravery upon their brows Everything now showed consternation, distress and misery. Louder roared the cannons, whilst confusion became more visible. Dismounted cannons and powder wagons in numbers! The command was now given to charge the rifles and muskets, and about four o'clock, we reached "Quater Bras"-not a remarkable place by external appearance for a low cottage was built, were we struck the turnpike or chaussee. It was quite capacious, for we marched in an eastern direction in divisions whilst the cannon and rifle balls crossed the turnpike in no small numbers. Twenty minutes afterwards we made halt, and moved in front The cannon and rifle balls now made their visits upon us like a heavy rain shower. The soldiers were now commanded to lay down, in the ditches, which then were dry, whilst the officers were all in a standing position. The life of many a gallant officer was now sacrificed. Inoar