Yet notwithstanding his attainder and the approaching relinquishment of royal authority, he had clung to his early home with all the fondness of an infant for the bosom of its mother, and that too, long after a further stay had become dangerous. Of all the Tories he was the most obnoxious to the violent Whigs and when, by common con-sent, a cessation of active hostilities took place, individual enterprise had made more than one effort to carry him off.-- From some of these attempts he had narrowly escaped; but the British out-posts in Westchester were now about to be with-

DELANCEY'S FINAL DEPARTURE 51

drawn and personal safety compelled him to seek another abode. It was on a brilliant morning in one of the last days of April, that Colonel James Delancey took his final departure from West Farms. A bright vernal sun gilded hill and plain, birds sang their native hymns, and early flowers were beginning to bloom. Nature seemed to revel in the freshness and beauty of infancy. Under such circumstances the youthful heart beats high. Even the weary pilgrim of life while ap-proaching his journey's end can sometimes pause to look upon a scene like this and for a moment, fancy himself re-juvenated. But the welcome sounds and cheerful sights that move in the pageant of Spring awakened no responsive feelings in the Outlaw of the Bronx, who with a heavy heart mounted his horse, and riding to the dwellings of his neighbors, bade them each farewell. The last upon whom he called, though much his senior in years, had been a friend and associate from early life, and was just returned to the farm which civil dissension had compelled him, for a while, to abandon. "Hunt," said the Colonel. "I have called to bid you good-bye --I hope you may prosper." "I don't know how that will be," answered the husbandman, -- "Peace, it is true, has come at last; but I am now a poor man with a large family to pro-vide for.