A PIONEER "WIDE AWAKE."

One event in the life of Jacob Lohr qualified him, in my opinion, to be mustered into the army of "Wide Awakes." Let me tell the children the incident and see if they agree with me.

He was a native of the Mohawk Valley near Schenectady, New York, and when about twenty years old, with his young wife, Polly, emigrated to the wilds of Western Pennsylvania. This was more than seventy years ago, when the magnificent forests of that region afforded some of the finest hunting-grounds in America. Here Jacob began clearing a farm, built a log dwelling-house, planted corn and potatoes, and in a few years became a thriving pioneer.

But the pride of his forest farm was his pigs. He had built a strong pen of logs, with a heavy door,

During the day they were permitted to roam at large in the woods eating nuts, by which they fattened for the larder; but when night approached, they were called and zealously secured in the pen, a practice which soon taught the pigs the habit of early retiring. Gradually, however, Mr. Lohr's punctuality in this matter abated, until one evening it had become fairly dark ere he went to shut them in. As he walked down the beaten path, a rustling in the adjacent bushes made him think that the pigs might still be out; and to satisfy himself on the point, he entered the pen and felt around, saying as he did so, "One two, three—all here." Then as he turned to the door, he wondered what caused the rustling across the brook. But as he stooped to go out, his wonder was threateningly answered by a low growl from a dark crouching object, only two or three steps in front of him.

With swift hands he closed the door, shutting himself in; and none too soon, for instantly a heavy animal leaped on the roof over his head and began fiercely scratching at the cover. At the same time a

All night long he was a "Wide Awake," as were also the pigs, for the panthers were growling and screaming, scratching and digging around and upon the pen, trying to tear it to pieces and seize the occupants. Although feverishly excited, he felt quite secure, because the sty was so substantially built.

Yet such lodgings and neighbors, within and without, would not tend to produce very placid slumbers, even if the walls were cannon-proof.

Various plans were tried by Polly, his wife, who had become aware of the situation, to drive away the creatures, but in vain.

She held a torch where it shone toward the pen; she screamed through the narrow casement, and rattled a tin pan at the animals; but she did not know how to load and fire the gun; and as to going outside the door, it is doubtful if even the boldest hunter, well armed, would have dared so much at night, in the face of a whole family of hungry panthers.

Discovering that they had scratched at some of the larger cracks between the logs, until they could thrust in their noses, he peeled a piece of tough bark from the side of the pen, and began striking at them, giving them many stinging blows.

And afterward, when relating the story, he would laugh heartily at remembering the sneezing, snarling and grumbling this occasioned. Although he had so much to keep him excited, the night seemed very long.

At last, however, the daylight began to dawn, and he heard his jailors mewing and purring together as if in council, and then all was silent all around the pen.

Half an hour later, Polly called to him that they were gone away.

It was with extreme caution, however, that he opened the door a little and peered out.

A panther is like a cat in slyness or cunning, watching stealthily for prey and springing upon it in the most unexpected way.

And so, before he ventured out, he scanned with sharp eyes the edge of the woods across the brook; for he did not fancy being the mouse for these three

His "Wide Awake" night was ended.

Upon investigating the scene of the night's operations, he found the sty amazingly scratched and gnawed in many places, proving the strength of tooth and nail and the ferocity of his jailors. Several long deep gashes on one of the pigs showed where a panther had thrust in his paw by a crack and tried to seize a victim.

But my story is only half told.

An old adage says, "It is a poor rule that won't work both ways;" and so thought Jacob. He resolved in the morning, that if the creatures should come back the next night, as they would be quite apt to do, he would turn the tables and try to teach them the pleasure of being imprisoned in a pig-sty.

Anybody who has lived in a region infested by carnivorous animals, knows how they prowl around the settler's cabin the night after any fat animal, cattle or swine is killed, for the meat. They snuff the

So, in the afternoon, the task was done, the pen and vicinity being the scene of the slaughter, and all the bloody tidbits placed inside the door. Every such thing was arranged to attract the animals into the sty if possible. The meat was placed safely in the garret of the house.

The door of the pen was so constructed as to open and shut something like the lower sash of a window, by sliding up and down, a peg holding it open by day and closed by night. When the door was open, this peg had only to be pulled out, to let it shut down like a flash; and being shut no animal could open it. Jacob went along the brook and obtained a quantity of bark from the moosewood, (Dirca palustris,) of which he made a strong cord, long enough to reach from the pen to the house. One end of this he tied tightly to the peg that supported the door, and the other he made fast inside the house.

Stationing themselves at the window, he and Polly watched and listened.

Hardly had it become dark, when they heard the mewing of the panthers at no great distance in the forest. Persons who are familiar only with the mewing of cats, have little idea how a panther's stronger, but similar voice will ring through the woods.

In a little time they distinctly heard one of them leap upon the pen and begin scratching as the night before; and in a moment more, by the confined sound of purring and growling, it was evident they had entered the sty and were disputing over the morsels of meat.

Then Jacob gave the bark cord a vigorous jerk and they heard the door drop.

I suppose it would be impossible to describe the excitement of Polly and Jacob at this moment, but the girls and boys can imagine something of it.

They did not dare to go out to see if they had caught the panthers, lest, having failed, the panthers might catch them.

Before morning, however, they were sure enough that one or more was captured, for there was a great deal of smothered howling, just as it would sound from animals shut in a pen.

At once two pairs of eyes flashed at him, and fierce growls remonstrated against the state of affairs.

Had Barnum flourished in those days, Jacob might have found a market for the animals alive, but as it was he regarded it safer to shoot them as quickly as possible, through a crevice between the logs.

Upon placing the dead animals side by side near the house he discovered that they were mother and

I have only to add, that he was paid by the state a bounty of twenty-four dollars apiece for killing the panthers, which was quite a fortune for a pioneer in those days. Their red-brown skins, sewed together, made a larger and nicer lap-robe than the hide of any buffalo; and years after, with Jacob's children, I took many a sleigh-ride under this warm covering.

All in favor of numbering Jacob among the "Wide Awakes," say aye!