rty (see Broadhead's "History of
New York," page 526), Peter Stuyvesant vindictively persecuted Herman,
Lockerman, and others, who retired to Staten Island to brood. These
men belonged to "the popular party." I therefore had a hint to make
Stuyvesant himself the incarcerator of Herman in a fort, and the most
available period seemed to be subsequent to the capture of Dutch New
York by the English, but before the Dutch settlements on the Delaware
were yielded. Stuyvesant surrendered New York September 8th, 1664. It
was not until October 10th that Newcastle on the Delaware surrendered.
The theory of the poem is that Herman, hearing New York to be English,
like Maryland where he resided, repaired to his possessions.
Stuyvesant rallies the squatters against him and makes use of a fort
on Staten Island, not yet noticed by the English, as Herman's place of
punishment. On Herman's escape this fort is blown up. When Herman
returns to Newcastle, it is no longer Dutch, but English. Four days is
the time of the action. The device of the carrier pigeons is possibly
an anachronism, and also the age of Herman. I have aimed to make the
story reasonable, if not creditable.

KIDNAPPED.

A celebrated apostle of the Methodist sect, on the Eastern shore of
Maryland, was the Rev. Titus Bates. He had been twenty-six years
engaged in the ministry, and was now a bronzed, worn, failing man,
consumed by the zeal of his order, but still anxious to continue his
work and die at his post. Like all his tribe, he was an itinerant,
moving from town to town every second year--these towns being his
places of abode, while his fields of labor were called "circuits," and
comprised many houses of worship scattered through the surrounding
district. He had chosen his wife with reference to his vocation, and
she was equally earnest with himself. She attended the sick, prayed
with the dying, taught Sabbath-schools, and organized religious
meetings among the women. They had but one son, Paul, an odd, silent
little fellow, who was thought to be more bashful than bright; but his
parents loved him tenderly, and argued the highest usefulness from his
still, sober, thoughtful habits. He was of a singularly dark
complexion, with fine black eyes and curling hair, and he was now old
enough to ride to and fro with his father upon the long pastoral
journeys.

Paul's sixth birthday occurred on a raw Sunday in December. He had
been promised, as a special treat on