6 
bank on the mainland opposite the island, and 
endeavored by critical observation to learn 
something of the mystery environed tenants 
of the cheerless isle. I have noticed a short, 
stout old man attending to the live-stock, or at 
woik in the garden, or otherwise engaged, but 
I felt impressed that he was not the only 
human dweller on the island. Several times 
during my numerous visits to my point of ob- 
servation on the mainland, I noticed a stalwart, 
white-haired old gentleman in a boat, that was 
usually anchored some distance from shore; I 
could hardly decide at times whether he was 
fishing or dreaming, so quiet would he remain 
while I watched him. In my romantic fancy 
this was the mysterious individual, who, doubt- 
less for some good purpose, had taken up his 
abode on this desolate spot, anxious to be apart 
from human society and its disappointing ex- 
periences. The more I observed the mystery 
veiled dwellers on this isolated spot in the Del- 
aware, the stronger grew my desire to become 
acquainted with them. Fortune at last granted 
my heart’s earnest longings, and brought me 
into closer fellowship with “ the old hermit ”»— 
as I had grown to style the lone fisherman— 
than my strongest desires could crave. 
On a frosty morning in the autumn of ’98, 
when I was laboriously rowing against the 
strong current of the Delaware, above tide- 
water, in search of a specimen of wild fowl for 
my cabinet, I saw the “ old hermit,” sitting like 
