A Long Way Home!--a Night's Adventure

Thero can be no harm in telling the story, forthe oíd fellow's idiosyncracies were so well and so exlensively known, and he, himself, was so fond of telling of his own blunders and mishaps, no matter from what cause, tliat we cannot thus trespass upon any domestic or social right. In f act, I am sure, if the hardy old forester were now alive to read, he would peïiise the printed story with intense satisfaction. Who tliat, bas ever spent a season in Conway, N. II., has failed to hear of Barzilla Knox, the old trapper and forester of Mote Mountain ? His log cabin was upon the lowcr slope of tliat mountain, and there I knew hira, and have seen more tlian one go;l-sized hlafik heat of li is own He was a tough old fellow, yet genial and merry, and as kind-hearted as a cherub. Once upon a time - it was just in the edgeofthe evening - Barzilla started away from Ilill's old tavern, at the corner, with a two-quart jug filled with Old Medford Hum. He had drank several times before starting, and he drank several times thereafter. In short, he took a pull at the jug whenever he carne to a brook of pure water ; and across that road running along under the mountain the brooks are plenty . At a certain point of his route he could leave the highway, and strike across lots, thus cutting off over a mile of travel. - There was no beaten path across the uncultivated üelds, but the way was clear of forest, and lic knew it well ; so when he reached tliat point, he got over the fence and started by the shortest route. Theshadows had fallen on all around, and night fairly shut in. There was no moon, but the stars were bright, and the way easily found, notwithatanding the darkness. By and by Barzilla came to a brook, where he sat down, and took a pullof his jug. When he started to get up he was torced to exert himself. His underpinning was growing uncertain. JSTot far away he came to a fence, which he climed, and at a short distance beyond this he found another brook, - ah! of beautiful water. He sat down and took anoth( ;r pull at the jug, and here took a short nap. In time he was up again, and off. Another fence in his way, which he climed, and a short distance further brought him to another brook. He sat down and took one more pull, and took just a wee nap before getting up. The ref reshing nap ended, he was once more on his way ; and a short tramp brought him to another fence. '■Jïless me! (hic)"- with his liands and head leaning on the upper rail, 'pearster me'tthey 've been a puttin' up a good Qdc) er- a - goo'r - man y ltíllCea SUICf I niu oVor thio om (tirt way afore I" Ánd he climbed the fence.and pushed on, and pretty soon he arrived at anpther brook ! "Sakes alive !" lie would take a drink there just to pay for getting over that last fence. And he sat down and took it. And after a time he aróse froni a brief slumber, and started on- started on, to iind, not faraway, still another fence! A few very impatient words escaped him, and he climbed the fence angrily, hoping that he would fmd just one more brook, to make up for that fence! He found it- found a pure cïystal brook of icy water, and when he had lif ted his jug to his lips that time, it came away much lightened. Hut he was enjoying it, he thought; only he wondered where his home was. Had he lost the way, or - Before he could fairly answer the question in his own mind, he was asleep ; and he slept till the break of day. When he awoke, he feit "ásense of unpleasantness decidedly unpleasant," as he afterwards declared. His head feit as though a hive of bee-shad swarmed in it, having first waxed-up his mouth and eyes. But- Ha ! -he espied his Jug ! A good pull at that, and he feit better. He wiped his lips ; then dipped his hand into the cooling water of the brook, and laved his brow, and then thought. Ah - he called it all to mind. He remembered the surprising number of fences he had climbed over, with a brook for every one of them ! He got up and took a survey. A thorough look, and then - "Well, I'm blessed! O! Barzilia Knox, aren 't you smart 't O, aren't you? You mis'r'ble old soft-head' Jestlook?" The old red tnill was in sight, not hall a niile away, and, the point where he had lef t the high way was within a stone's throw. At a short distance was a pasture fence, and a few rods further on, beyond that fence, was an, o ther brook! and there he had been í through a good half of the night, travelling to and fro between the two brooks, clambering over that single fence at every trip! - No wonder he called himself hardnames. He reached home, ftnding nobody frightened ; for he was not regular in his habits; - and he resolved at fus that he would keep lúa night's adven ture to himselï ; but he eould not hole it. In his great desire for fresl material for a story, he brought tha: into thelight, andlaughed as heartilj with the telling as did anybody else with the liearing.