Rhode Island Republican

One cold stormy day last February a female stranger made her appearance in the Beach-wood's settlement on the Lackawana. She appeared to be about thirty: tall and delicately formed; but the rose that once bloomed on her cheek was withered by the canker worm of care; and reason no longer swayed his sceptre over her mind. "They drowned my mother, O! how she screams!--there! there! she sinks--help her--help her!" was the burden of her song. But she would occasionally cast her eyes on the men, and with a wild and fearful look, exclaim, "No! No!--I hate you, you've ruined me--Poor Poll would drown herself but the water's cold." No entreaties could induce her to take shelter from the ravages of the storm. But she flew from house to house, a most melancholy picture of sorrow and woe. After having been absent a day or two, she returned with an infant naked on her bosom. "Poor thing," she would cry, when the hospitable cottager begged it of her, "poor thing, I know you'll starve it." Nature remained true to her duty, although reason had fled from her seat. A tear, the first she had shed, fell and mingled with the snow on its neck. The soul of the little sufferer was just winging its way to a kinder parent, when the unfortunate maniac entered a cottage where the woman had but the week before buried a new born infant. She kindly begged that the child might at least be put in her arms. The mother consented, and Mrs. Bucklin, (for that is the name of the humane woman) wiped the snow from its neck, wrapped it in warm flannel and gave it the breast. A gleam of wandering reason seemed to shoot across the mind of the distressed mother. She was delighted to see her offspring on the breast of its humane nurse, and expressed no wish to take it again, but soon wandered off, declaring she had drowned her child. She passed the village, and it is not known whence she came or whither she has gone. Mrs. Bucklin still keeps the child, and nurses it as her own. Col. Stanton, of Wayne county, has sent it some clothes and the name of Polly Snow, expressive of the place of its birth. In the name of humanity, I thank them for their kindness.

[Luzerne Federalist
The unhappy Maniac mentioned in the above article has, since she left Luzerne, been wandering in this country, principally in this township. She raves of her mother and her babes having been drowned, but sometimes says she has left one with a good woman who took it from her when she was going to drown it. We have no doubt she is the woman whose tale is so pathetically told by Mr. Miner. Would it not be worthy of the Legislature of Pennsylvania to make provision for restoring to society those afflicted Beings, whose misfortune has robbed of the proudest attribute of Humanity?

We cannot close this article without noticing the benevolent kindness, the heart-cheering goodness with which Mr. Gaskins and family of this township have upon all occasions treated the unfortunate Polly.

"They also shall have their reward."

[Northumberland Argus of May 28.