Wyandot County Republican

The Hermit of the Cliff.
In the State of Kentucky, at a point not far from where the romantic little Tradewater throws itself into the arms of the Ohio, may be seen standing upon the very verge of a lofty cliff, a small and somewhat strangely-fashioned stone hut. No person seems to know anything about it. An old man lives there, and he might have lived there since the creation of the world for aught any one can tell to the contrary. All have seen him; some have endeavored to get into conversation with him, but none have been able to arrive at his history, for he is provokingly uncommunicative.
Business took me to that region some months ago, and while there I made it convenient to visit the hut on the cliff. The old man, an eccentric-looking character, truly, received me kindly, but, as I had been forewarned would be the case, showed no disposition to converse. I did not try to press an interchange upon him, but stated that I was a stranger in the place, merely rambling about, and had been attracted to his locality by the magnificent view it afforded of the Ohio River. One word brought on another, until finally we got into an easy conversation, and it was not long until I discovered a disposition on his part to give me a scrap of his history. I took a seat upon the brink of the cliff, and he stationed himself not far away, and at last, after I had humored him in every manner possible, to the evident seeming of his good opinion, he said:
"I am now seventy-four years old. Fifty years ago, this coming spring, I first saw this cliff, and since that time I have never been three miles away from it.
"Fifty years ago I started with my little family—a wife and one child—from Pittsburgh to go to New Orleans. It was before the age of steam had been inaugurated, so we took passage aboard a keel-boat. Right out there, (pointing with his hand), our boat stuck fast on a sand-bar, and necessitated waiting till a rise in the river should let us off. It was a dull place at which to tarry, and consequently life soon waxed monotonous to the fullest extreme; and with a view to a change, I one day took my wife and child—the latter a little girl of four summers—and came ashore to walk in the woods. We strolled to the top of this cliff, and seated ourselves upon the very offset which you are now occupying, to enjoy the scene which you have just been praising. It was somewhat different then from now. An unbroken wilderness reached out in every direction, as far as the eye could see. Man had not yet interfered with the primitive features of the forest.
"After looking upon the scene in silence for some time, my wife said: 'Ah, George, did you ever see anything so enchanting before?'
"I told her it was really sublime.
"'It almost makes me feel that I am a bird,' she continued, 'able to sail off these lofty cliffs and go just where I like. If I were to become a bird, George, and fly away over yonder, out of sight, would you stay here till I returned?'
"I laughed at the idea, and promised that I would wait.
"'Now, George,' she continued, 'I might get to be a bird. Promise me good that, should I take a notion to fly, you'll never leave this place till I come back to you.'
"'I promise good,' said I, laughing again, yet feeling some astonishment at her continuance of the subject. The words had scarcely passed my lips ere she rose to her feet, seized our child in her arms, and before I could move hand or foot leaped from the cliff. A rustling of clothes in the air, a wild scream from the child, a dull, heavy sound from far below, and all was silent.
"I made my way to the foot of the cliff—I scarcely know how—but a bleeding and almost shapeless mass was all I found there! The spirits had also flown.
"See that flat rock there beside my hut; that is their tomb! At my request the boatmen bore their remains to the top of the cliff, and there they are buried. And they then assisted me to erect this hut. I promised her to remain right here till she returned to me; I shall keep my promise!"—Mobile Register.