CONFESSION OF CRIME—ITS VALUE.
IN 1812 there resided in Manchester, Vermont, Barney Boorn, an old man, Stephen and Jesse, his two sons, and Sarah, his only daughter, who was the wife of Russell Colvin. They were poor, ignorant, and in bad reputation for honesty. Colvin was half-witted and half-crazy. Two miserable hovels adjoining each other, and a few acres of pinebarrens, constituted all their possessions. They raised a few potatoes and garden vegetables, but eked out their scant livelihood by days'-work for the neighboring farmers.
In May, 1812, Russell Colvin was missing. This, however, occasioned but little surprise. He had always been of uncertain habits, was incompetent to manage his family, moved about in an idle, wandering way, and was frequently absent from home for days together. As weeks grew into months, inquiries began to be made in town about the absent man. There are no tongues for gossip like those that wag in a Yankee village. The excitement grew. Like contagion, the wonder spread. Neighboring townships caught the infection; and rumors passed from lip to lip until suspicion, like a hungry leech, fastened upon the Boorns. It was known that there had long existed a feud between them and Colvin; it was in proof, that the last time the missing man was seen, he was at work with the Boorns clearing stones from a field, and that a dispute was going on between them; and Lewis Colvin, the son of Russell, had stated that his father struck his uncle Stephen, the latter returned the blow, and that then he, the boy, being frightened, ran away. A Mr. Baldwin had heard Stephen Boorn say, in answer to the inquiry as to where Colvin was, that he had "gone to h——;" and his wife had heard Jesse Boorn declare that "Colvin had gone where potatoes would not freeze." For seven years, every house in Bennington County was haunted with the ghost of Colvin. There was no proof of the guilt of the Boorns, but every body believed it. A button and jackknife were found, which Mrs. Colvin believed had belonged to her husband. Dreams, thrice repeated, had led to unsuccessful searches for Colvin's body. A thousand stories, with no shadow of truthful fabric, were in circulation. Every body treated the Boorns as guilty; and it is a marvel how they escaped being lynched without trial. In such miserable society as remained to them, with the mark of Cain upon their brows, ostracized even from the kitchens of their well-to-do neighbors, more fiercely struggling, year after year, with beggary that bordered on starvation, exposed to constant, unsparing allusions and vulgar interrogatories, it is no wonder that they said rash things, and returned unflinching replies.
Five years after the missing of Colvin, Stephen Boorn removed to Denmark, New York, and there married; Jesse remained at home. There had been no appearance of concealment on their part, during all this time. Stephen had gone away openly, and it was well known where he was. Neither of the wretched men, upon any occasion, had ever attempted flight.
Seven years had elapsed, when a discovery was made which seemed to confirm the worst suspicions. A lad, walking near the Boorns' hovel, was attracted by the barking of a dog at the stump of a large tree. Coming up, he examined
