In a small village on the banks of the Susquehanna, several miles from the present location of the capitol of Pennsylvania, many years ago, there lived a very singular individual known to the villagers by the name of Felix Deford. He resided in a little log building at one end of the village, and during the first year of his abode there, never spoke over half a dozen words to any one of his neighbors. This strange exclusiveness, in a community so small that each one not only knew the other but was perfectly familiar with his most trifling habits and pursuits, excited great curiosity, as could very naturally have been expected. He at once became the subject of general conversation, and various surmises were suggested in explanation of his conduct, in the propounding of which the ladies were decidedly the most prolific. This was owing, it was affirmed, to their naturally more inquisitive dispositions; but, in the present instance, I am inclined to believe that it resulted rather from their having been endowed with feelings more tender and sympathetic than those of the opposite sex. This opinion seems to derive great strength from the fact that their conjectures generally agreed in assigning as the cause of his secluded habits, some unfortunate occurrence that depressed his spirits, and made him melancholy. It was indeed no little entertaining to hear the quiet and simple villagers, at their gossipping meetings, discussing the case of this mysterious stranger, for to them he was doubly a stranger, from whatever view they might regard him. Though they occasionally saw him, yet so far as social intercourse was concerned, he might as well have been in China. During the first year of his residence amongst them, notwithstanding their many efforts to effect an acquaintance, they had not been able to ascertain anything respecting him beyond his name, which he never manifested the least disposition to conceal. Whatever advances had been made towards a closer intimacy he had invariably repelled, but always in a manner, and with a modest and attractive politeness, which only prepossessed those who had made them the more in his favor. Instead of losing their interest in him through the progress of time, their anxiety daily increased to obtain some knowledge of his manner of life, if nothing more. As yet, no one had been inside of his house since he resided in it, not even the rent collector, upon whom all had looked as likely, at least partially, to gratify them in this particular.