48 



THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUXTER. 



time that he could stand alone until the present time, 

 and not a pen has inked paper to record his exploits. 

 " Solitary and alone'' has he traced his game through 

 the mazy labyrinth of air ; marked, I hunted ; — I found; 

 — I conquered; — upon the carcasses of his victims, and 

 then marched homeward with his spoils : quietly and 

 satisfiedly, sweetening his path through life; and, by its 

 very obscurity, adding the principal element of the sub- 

 lime. 



It was on a beautiful southern October morning, at 

 the hospitable mansion of a friend, where I was staying 

 to drown dull care, that I first had the pleasure of see- 

 ing Tom Owen. 



He was, on this occasion, straggling up the rising 

 ground that led to the hospitable mansion of mine host, 

 and the difference between him and ordinary men was 

 visible at a glance ; perhaps it showed itself as much in 

 the perfect contempt of fashion that he displayed in the 

 adornment of his outward man, as it did in the more ele- 

 vated qualities of his mind, which were visible in his 

 face. His head was adorned with an outlandish pattern 

 of a hat — ^his nether limbs were encased by a pair of 

 inexpressibles, beautifully fringed by the briar-bushes 

 through which they were often drawn ; coats and vests, 

 he considered as superfluities ; hanging upon his back 

 were a couple of pails, and an axe in his right hand, 

 formed the varieties that represented the corpus of Tom 

 Owon. 



