"There—take him!" cried Horseshoe, with an effort to laugh, but which seemed to be half converted into a quaver by the agitation of his feelings, as, springing to the ground, he swung Butler from the horse, with scarce more effort than he would have used in handling a child; "take him, ma'am. I promised myself to-day that I'd give him to you. And now you've got him. That's a good reward for all your troubles. God bless us but I'm happy to-day."
"My husband!—My husband!" were the only articulate words that escaped Mildred's lips, as she fell senseless into the arms of Arthur Butler.
WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS
[William Gilmore Simms was born at Charleston, South Carolina, in 1806. He received but a limited education, and at the age of twelve became apprenticed to a druggist. But as this occupation did not appeal to him, he began at eighteen the study of law. This profession he abandoned in a short time to become editor of a newly established literary magazine, and from this time on he devoted his entire time to literary work. He was a most prolific writer and not only produced numerous volumes of poetry and fiction but edited one short-lived periodical after another and contributed to various others. The war made the close of his life a sad one. His home was partly burned in 1862, and in 1865 it, together with his fine library, was entirely destroyed. During the years of the war his wife and several of his children died. He found also that the public was beginning to lose its relish for the type of story he wrote. The words of the epitaph he left behind at his death in Charleston in 1870 suggest the essentially brave spirit of the man, "Here lies one who, after a reasonably long life, distinguished chiefly by unceasing labors, has left all his better work undone."
To attempt an enumeration of Simms's many volumes is impossible, the total being, according to one count, above eighty. Suffice it to say that besides fiction he wrote numerous volumes of dramas,
