Excerpt
Preface.
Note: Plan of this Miscellany.
There is a vast amount of interesting information, on almost all subjects, which many people, especially the young, cannot attain to because of the expense, and, in some instances, the rarity of the books in which it is contained.
To place some of this information, in an attractive form, within the reach of those who cannot afford to purchase expensive books, is the principal object of this Miscellany.
Truth is stranger than fiction, but fiction is a valuable assistant in the development of truth. Both, therefore, shall be used in these volumes. Care will be taken to insure, as far as is possible, that the facts stated shall be true, and that the impressions given shall be truthful.
As all classes, in every age, have proved that tales and stories, are the most popular style of literature, each volume of the series (with, perhaps, one or two exceptions) will contain a complete tale, the heroes and actors in which, together with the combination of circumstances in which they move, shall be more or less fictitious.
In writing these volumes, the author has earnestly endeavoured to keep in view the glory of God and the good of man.
Chapter One. Describes Home-Coming, and shows that Matters whispered in the Drawing-Room are sometimes loudly proclaimed Below-Stairs.
It was late on a winter evening when our hero, William Osten, arrived in England, in company with his two friends and former messmates, Bunco and Larry O’Hale.
When a youth returns to his native land, after a long absence which commenced with his running away to sea, he may perhaps experience some anxieties on nearing the old home; but our hero was not thus troubled, because, his father having died during his absence, and his mother having always been tender-hearted and forgiving, he felt sure of a warm reception.
Our hero was so anxious to see his mother, that he resolved to travel by the night-coach to his native town of B—, leaving his companions to follow by the mail in the morning. Railways, although in use throughout the country, had not at that time cut their way to the town of B—. Travellers who undertook to visit that part of the land did so with feelings somewhat akin to those of discoverers about to set out on a distant voyage. They laid in a stock of provisions for the journey, and provided great supply of wraps for all weathers. When Will Osten reached the coach-office, he found that all the inside places were taken.
“You’ll have to go aloft, sir,” said the coachman, a stout and somewhat facetiously inclined individual, who, observing something of the sailor in Will’s costume and gait, suited his language to his supposed character; “there’s only one berth left vacant, on the fogs’l ’longside o’ myself.”
“Well, I’ll take it,” said Will.
Five minutes afterwards the guard shouted “all right,” and they set off.
“Do you happen to know many of the people in the town of B—?” said Will to the coachman, as they emerged from the suburbs and dashed out upon a long tract of moorland....