to enrich the whole neighbourhood with paper money. Fortunately at this juncture there rose a high wind, which shook the venerable pile to its foundation, toppled down one of the chimneys, and blew off a weathercock, the Lord knows whither. The community took the alarm, they drove the land speculator from their shores, and since that day not a Yankee has dared to show his face in Communipaw. Among all the gruesome legends of the west shore of the river none is more famous than that of the "Guests from Gibbet Island." Yan Yost Vanderscamp, the scapegrace nephew of the innkeeper of Communipaw, disappeared with old Pluto, his uncle's negro servant, and reappeared years afterwards — "a rough, burly bully rufifian, with fiery whiskers, a copper nose, a scar across his face, and a great Flaunderish beaver slouched on one side of his head." With him was Pluto, grown grizzled, blind of an eye, and more devilish in appearance than before. According to his own account the prodigal had se- cured the fatted calf in his travels and had brought it home with him. He had bags full of money and ships in every sea. He and a company of roystering com- panions he had brought with him made a pandemonium of the Wild Goose, as the inn was named, and shocked the respectable burghers of Communipaw beyond measure. At intervals the swaggering crew would disappear, to return, more riotous than ever, and set the village once more by the ears: Digitized by Microsoft® On the Jersey Shore 69 The mystery of all these proceedings gradually dawned upon the tardy intellects of Communipaw. These were the times of the notorious Captain Kidd, when the American harbours were the resorts of piratical adventurers of all kinds, who, under pretext of mercantile voyages, scoured the West Indies, made plundering descents upon the Spanish Main, visited even the re- mote Indian Seas, and then came to dispose of their booty, have their revels, and fit out new expeditions, in the English colonies. . . . At length the attention of the British government was called to these piratical enterprises, that were becoming so fre- quent and outrageous. Vigorous measures were taken to check and punish them. Several of the most noted freebooters were caught and executed, and three of Vanderscamp's chosen com- rades, the most riotous swashbucklers of the Wild Goose, were hanged in chains on Gibbet Island, in full sight of their favourite resort. As to Vanderscamp himself, he and his man Pluto again disappeared, and it was hoped by the people of Communipaw that he had fallen in some foreign brawl, or been swung on some foreign gallows. . . . This perfect calm was doomed at length to be ruffled. The fiery persecution of the pirates gradu- ally subsided. Justice was satisfied with the examples that had been made, and there was no more talk of Kidd, and the other heroes of like Kidney. On a calm summer evening, a boat, somewhat heavily laden, was seen pulling into Communipaw. What was the surprise and disquiet of the inhabitants, to see Yan Yost Vanderscamp seated at the helm, and his man Pluto tugging at the oar. Vander- scamp, however, was apparently an altered man. He brought home with him a wife, who seemed to be a shrew, and to have the upper hand of him. He no longer was the swaggering, bully ruffian, but affected the regular merchant, and talked of retiring from business, and settling down quietly, to pass the rest of his days in his native place. The Wild Goose mansion was again opened, but with dim- inished splendour, and no riot. It is true, Vanderscamp had fre- quent nautical visitors, and the sound of revelry was occasionally overheard in his house; but everything seemed to be done under the rose; and old Pluto was the only servant that officiated at Digitized by Microsoft® 70 The Hudson River these orgies. The visitors, indeed, were .by no means of the turbulent stamp of their predecessors; but quiet, mysterious traders, full of nods, and winks, and hieroglyphic signs, with whom, to use their cant phrase, " everything was smug." Their ships came to anchor at night, in the lower bay ; and, on a private signal, Vanderscamp would launch his boat, and, accompanied solely by his man Pluto, would make them mysterious visits. Sometimes boats pulled in at night, in front of the Wild Goose, and various articles of merchandise were landed in the dark, and spirited away, nobody knew whither. One of the more curious of the inhabitants kept watch, and caught a glimpse of the features of some of these night visitors, by the casual glance of a lantern, and declared that he recognized more than one of the