cured with twice the number of spells usually employed by sea robbers. The magician very wisely observed that nobody could look on the valley of Westminster and deny that evil spirits had been there; for it was plain enough to be seen that, where men now smoked in their houses, fishes had once frolicked in the lake. Three times, he affirmed, had this lake been exorcised; and, at each time, it had shrunk more and more within itself. Three beds of sand, successively deposited, still prove how reluctantly the water gods gave up their empire; but, when the last frightful spell was uttered, it is believed they rushed through the rocks at Brattleboro', and left dry land in their rear. Deep in this spell-bound tract, the conjuror said there was gold and silver enough to buy the Great Mogul's diamoud. The precious secret was intrusted to a few worthies, among whom were Jacob Little and Ebenezer Green. Now, it happened that, only the day before the magician arrived among then, Betsy Slack had reproached honest Jacob with his poverty; and the sorrowing swain resolved, go through what superstitious terror he might, he would secure the hidden treasure. At first Ebenezer Green listened to the stranger's dazzling account with that sly, shrewd, New England look, which seems to bid defiance to outwitting knavery; but when he knew that his rival had engaged to furnish money and become principal in the concern, he entered into his plans with all possible eagerness. Many and many a consultation were held upon the important subject, and the winter had nearly passed away, before all their arrangements were made. The laws of the

black art required seven actors, and only six trustworthy individuals had as yet been selected. The frost was fast loosening the earth, which held their expected wealth in chains, when Ebenezer Green was deputed to wait upon Anthony Slack, to request the assistance of his purse and person. The time chosen for transacting this business was one of those disagreeable March days, when it neither storms nor shines, when the transient snow beneath our feet is white as a brickmaker's frock, and the sky over our heads as motionless and dingy as a tub of cold suds. In short, one of those days when all nature looks pale and disconsolate as an old blue nun. Anthony had crept inside his wood pile, for he, good, easy soul, always heaped his winter's wood around the fire to avoid unnecessary labor, leaving only a small aperture, through which his active niece obtained free ingress and egress. The blood crept more sluggishly than common through his veins, and his head nodded frequently over his pipe, to the manifest danger of his long, lank neck, when Ebenezer entered. On hearing his voice, the old man slowly thrust his yellow paw through a chink in the wood pile, and drawled out his indolent salutation. The whirring of Betsy's footwheel did not cease for an instant; and to her lover's very kind "How d'ye do, Miss Betsy?" she briefly answered, "Very well; only a little troubled with St Anthony's fire ;" and, as she spoke, the saucy girl cast a significant glance at the scraggy heap of cat-sticks reposing on broken American bricks, in lieu of English andirons. Luckily, in his anxiety to inquire the news, the old man did not notice her remark.

When Ebenezer answered that there was great news stirring, Betsy's foot rested on the wheel, and Anthony laid down his pipe, and rose up to listen. One expected some village scandal, and the other was all eagerness to hear that the contagious spirit of French liberty had broken out with more virulent symptoms in England. Both seemed disappointed, when the real purport of his visit was explained. To Betsy, it was "a twice told tale;" and to her uncle's startled ear it was a request full of audacious wickedness. "So, you really think that I, Anthony Slack, who have had the honor to serve under his Excellency General Washington, am going to disgrace my old age by joining this devil's divan, do you?" said the offended sage. “Why, there is money in the case," replied the yeoman; "and a great deal of good can be done with money." Anthony paused awhile; for gold can bewilder the thoughts of a republican, as well as those of a British prime minister. "I've always been of opinion," at length he said, "that them pirates hid a power of money alongside our river, in by-gone times; but it is ill putting a finger in a pie of Satau's cooking." "But this man from the 'Bay State,'" rejoined Betsy, "says he knows how to get the treasure out of the grip of the evil one; and only think, uncle Anthony, how much good might be done in the cause of liberty with such a sum as they tell of, when money is so scarce in the land." "The gipsy talks like a book," said the zealous politician.— "No doubt much might be done touching southern slavery no doubt - no doubt. Well, Ezer, I'll think of it, and I guess I'll go."

Satisfied with this indefinite promise, the young man departed, beckoning, as he went, to induce Betsy to follow him. Whether the mischievous maiden was a confidant, and whether she feared that Jacob Little's courage would fail, unless supported by her uncle's sanction, we will not presume to say; but she certainly obeyed her lover's signal with unwonted alacrity; and, after a whispered consultation of fifteen minutes, one of her peculiar bubbling laughs was heard, as she exclaimed, "Well, Eben, let Jacob have a fair chance of his life. It would be a dreadful thing to die of sheer fright." We know not what more she might have said, had she not been interrupted in her homeward walk by an encounter with the identical knight of the cadaverous visage. Laying his finger upon the right hand of the damsel, he whined forth, in his most pathetic tone, "Ah, Betsy Slack-Betsy Slack! My heart migives me in this business; for I have always been a misfortunate man. If I could but think poverty was all ye had agin me?" "As true as you've spoken my name," replied the relenting maiden, "just so true will I marry you, if you get one hundred dollars of that pirate money."

Truly, Jacob was somewhat comforted by this assurance; but he had a fearful task to perform; and, at the thought of it, his heart could not but quake within its tabernacle of flesh. It had been decreed that one of the party should await the arrival of the rest, a whole hour, in the burying ground. Sad to relate, the lot fell upon the timid Jacob, and he was told that he must go at midnight, and alone! In vain did the

smitten swain say to himself, "If the way to the damsel's favor lies through such a fearful pilgrimage, I will pluck up a stout heart, and go on." Poor man, his heart had never been of the stoutest, and now it quivered like a spider's web in the whirlwind!

At eleven o'clock, on that eventful night, lantern in hand, and Bible at his neck, Jacob Little might have been seen stealing along the road which leads through the village of Westminster. As he came within view of his place of destination, he paused to gather up his soul for the enterprise. The moon, ever and anon brushing away the masses of feathery clouds which swam around her, gave forth the uncertain light that superstition loves; the circling hills seemed like giant spirits wrapped in their robes of mist; and, from the elevated site of the road, the broad Connecticut might be seen passing quietly on, and siaging its sleepy lullaby to the restless trees. Jacob scarcely dared trust a glance in the opposite direction; for there, where a steep bank led down to the meadows, was hidden the pirate's treasure; and a little west of that glimmered the place of graves. The hair on his harmless pate was wet with the dews of terror, and his knees smote each other, as if they had been belligerent powers; but Betsy Slack's promise carried him through that dreadful moment of irresolution ; and Jacob's lantern soon illuminated one of the numerous strange epitaphs in the burial ground of his native village. For one dreary half hour, the silence heard was like darkness felt. Then there was a mournful noise from the opposite corner of the grave