Ellen Walton The Villain and His Victims
FLEMING'S HOTEL. In the year 1785, as, also, prior and subsequent to that time, there was a hotel situated in one of the less frequented streets of Pittsburg, then the largest town west of the mountains, and kept by one Fleming, whence it derived the name of "Fleming's Hotel." This house, a small one, and indifferently furnished, was a favorite resort of the Indians who visited the town on trading expeditions. Fleming had two daughters, who possessed considerable personal attractions, and that pride of a vain woman--_beauty_. History does not, to the best of our knowledge, give us the first names of the two girls; and we will distinguish them as Eliza and Sarah. Unfortunately for these young females, they had ever been surrounded by unfavorable circumstances, and exposed to the vices of bad associations; and that nice discrimination between propriety and politeness, which is a natural characteristic of the modest woman, had become somewhat obliterated, and the hold which virtue ever has by nature in the heart of the gentler sex, had been somewhat loosened. In short, the young Misses Fleming failed at all times to observe that degree of propriety which should ever characterize the pure in heart, and were, by many, accused of immorality. How far this accusation was true, we shall not attempt to say,
singing flash songs nothing? Zounds! you incorrigible rascal, many a
master would have taken you before a magistrate, and prayed for your
solitary confinement in Bridewell for the least of these offences. But
I'll be more lenient, and content myself with merely chastising you, on
condition--"
"You may do as you please, master," interrupted Jack, thrusting his hand
into his pocket, as if in search of the knife; "but I wouldn't advise
you to lay hands on me again."
Mr. Wood glanced at the hardy offender, and not liking the expression of
his countenance, thought it advisable to postpone the execution of his
threats to a more favourable opportunity. So, by way of gaining time, he
resolved to question him further.
"Where did you learn the song I heard just now?" he demanded, in an
authoritative tone.
"At the Black Lion in our street," replied Jack, without hesitation.
"The worst house in the neighbourhood--the constant haunt of reprobates
and thieves," groaned Wood. "And who taught it you--the landlord, Joe
Hind?"
"No; one Blueskin, a fellow who frequents the Lion," answered Jack, with
a degree of candour that astonished his master nearly as much as his
FLEMING'S HOTEL. In the year 1785, as, also, prior and subsequent to that time, there was a hotel situated in one of the less frequented streets of Pittsburg, then the largest town west of the mountains, and kept by one Fleming, whence it derived the name of "Fleming's Hotel." This house, a small one, and indifferently furnished, was a favorite resort of the Indians who visited the town on trading expeditions. Fleming had two daughters, who possessed considerable personal attractions, and that pride of a vain woman--_beauty_. History does not, to the best of our knowledge, give us the first names of the two girls; and we will distinguish them as Eliza and Sarah. Unfortunately for these young females, they had ever been surrounded by unfavorable circumstances, and exposed to the vices of bad associations; and that nice discrimination between propriety and politeness, which is a natural characteristic of the modest woman, had become somewhat obliterated, and the hold which virtue ever has by nature in the heart of the gentler sex, had been somewhat loosened. In short, the young Misses Fleming failed at all times to observe that degree of propriety which should ever characterize the pure in heart, and were, by many, accused of immorality. How far this accusation was true, we shall not attempt to say,