BESSIE’S VISIT TO ROSE LAWN. 115

George.—W hy, they are that old nasty dyer’s
children—Bran Mixon’s brats.

Mr. Cramer.—Y ou vulgar rascal, to use such
a word as nasty. I can hardly keep my hands
from giving you a thrashing. The father is
a worthy, industrious man. I wish I could
believe that my son would ever earn for him-
self as honorable a name as “ Honest Mixon.”
Now, listen to me, with both your ears. I
have leased the island in the river, called
‘¢ Bessie’s Island,” to Thomas Mixon. Go near
it if you dare! He has a right to it now; and
nobody has any right to land there without his
permission. As sure as I hear of your troub-
ling him or his sister, in any way whatever, I
will give you a touch of the rattan—in other
words, a sound caning. You may go.

George was glad enough to be released ; but
he was not to be let off in this way.

“ Stop a minute longer,” said his father; “I
have a few words more to say to you. After I
returned home yesterday, your mother was too
much occupied with other things to tell me
about your visit to New York. You made
yourself ridiculous in the city, you young