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after thus following up their trail for three days, came upon the two Injuns jist where the moose-runway makes an opening in the forest, and lets the light down upon yon willow that still flourishes beside the old hemlock. The Injuns were sitting beneath the willow, thinking themselves sheltered by the rocky bank opposite, and a mass of underwood which had shot up round the top of an oak, which had been twisted off in a tornado in some former day, and then lay im. bedded in weeds beneath the knoll. But a few yards from this bank, in that thicket round the roots of yon mossy old beech, Ben found a shelter, from which, at any moment, he could creep up and cover either with his fire from behind the knoll. But as he had only a onebarrel piece, it required full as cool a hand as his to wait and take both the creeturs at one shot. Bloody Ben, though, was jist the chap to do it. Like enough he waited there or manœuvred round for an hour to get his chance, which did come at last, howsumdever. The Injuns, who, in their own way, are mighty talkers, you must knowthat is, when they have really something to talk about got into some argerment, wherein figures, about which they know mighty little, were concerned. One took out his scalping-knife to make marks upon the earth to help him; while the other, trying to make matters clearer with the aid of his fingers, their heads came near each other jist as you may have seen those of white people when they get parroiching right in airnest. So they argufied and they counted, getting nearer and nearer as they became more eager, till their skulls, almost touch. ing, came within the exact range of Ben's rifle : and then Ben, he ups and sends the ball so clean through both, that it buried itself in a sapling behind them. And that, I think, was pretty well for the first shot of a lad of eighteen; and Bloody Ben himself never confessed to mak. ing a better one afterwards."

The tourist, who should now seek the scene of this adventure, would perhaps look in vain for the graceful exotic that once marked the spot. The weeping willow, which was only a thrifty sapling when the Indians met their death beneath its fatal shade, was changed into an old decayed trunk, with but one living branch when I beheld it; and a ponderous vine was rapidly strangling the life from this decrepid limb. "The hardy growth of the native forest had nearly obliterated the improvements of the pioneer. The wild animals, in drinking from the spring hard by, had dislodged the flat stones from its brink; tall weeds waved amid the spreading pool ; and the fox had made his den in the rocky knoll upon whose side once stood the settler's cabin of THE DEAD CLEARING.



Oh! Memory!
Thou lingering murmurer,
Within Joy's broken shell-

Why have I not,
In losing all I loved,

Lost thee as well?




The commencement of spring gave me notice to return to New York; and purchasing a “ York wagon," or shandy, to convey myself and goods, I bade adieu to the city of brotherly love,” after a residence of near six months, with a feeling of regret that I should see its inhabitants no more. I took very near the same route as that by which I had arrived in Pennsylvania from New York, avoiding, however, the river Delaware. I was four days on the road; and, with the exception of one scene to be presently described, and stopping at a “temperance house,” where all the customers seemed to be in a bad state of health, as they were only allowed wine or brandy on the understanding that they might, could, would, or should have the cholera or ague ; of putting up at an inn where there was nothing to be had that day but potatoes, bread, and apple-jack ;* and narrowly escaping a fine of five dollars in the state of Delaware for smoking a cigar–I met with nothing to arrest attention. But certainly no Englishman can travel in the United States without ex. periencing a certain degree of pride in being allied by the ties of blood, manners, language, and religion to the American people. When he sees a country of such immense extent, covered with roads, railways, and canals, bridges, viaducts, and aqueducts, cities, villages, farms, schoolhouses, and churches, chiefly the labour of a single century; and when, by analogy, he considers what another century will produce, there must arise a feeling of honest pride in seeing that the descendants of the English, separated from the mother country by three thousand miles of ocean, have achieved so much, and have such prospects; and that these happy results are to be attributed to the connection between the States and Great Britain, the affluence of the latter, the genius and perseverance of her emigrants who settle in the States, and are yearly adding to the ties of blood by which the two countries are connected.

The States of the south and south-west of America were settled by the Spaniards and Portuguese before the English began to colonise the north ; yet what has been achieved by those two nations in Mexico and Peru, compared with the British progress on the North Atlantic seaboard ? The Spaniards found Mexico and Peru in. habited by thriving, half-civilised nations, numbering their tens of millions, rich in every requisite for the climate ; they found the people living happily under a mild government, respecting the laws, and satisfied with an innocent religion, and nearly all this they have extirpated. In its place, find a few millions of wretched anarchists and bigots, who have overthrown the heathen worship of the sun for the heathen worship of idols ; and, in place of a parental government, have introduced the steel of the assassin, and the brutal coercion of an ignorant priesthood.

It is not too much to assert that the United States are still an

* A description of brandy made from apples.

integral, although an independent part of the British empire. They owe no allegiance to her Majesty of St. James's ; but they owe, and must of necessity pay homage to the language, literature, science, and arts of the parent state ; they live by her commerce, they are succoured by her affluence. History has no parallel to the fact, which will be fully developed in another century, of the two most powerful nations in the world being governed by the same laws and religion, possessing the same language and manners, and having a common ancestry-two branches from the same root ; and well may each be proud of its connection with the other! The climax of Brit. ish influence over the world is even yet far distant, and the magnitude of that influence so great as to be beyond comparison with that of the present day. When the northern continent of America shall be covered with a population of hundreds of millions, speaking the language of Shakspeare and Milton'; when Australia shall be likewise peopled and studded with English towns, and the remainder of the fifth portion of the globe, the whole of Oceanica, shall own the same allegiance to the literature of Albion ; the British dominion over India may expire, the colonies of England may become independent, but imperishable records will attest the supremacy of Great Britian over the world. The “ eternal” city of the Romans has outlived their religion and language, but a prouder destiny awaits the genius of the British : their language, now spoken in every quarter of the globe, and their discoveries and inventions, will certainly live as long as there remains an inhabitant on their islands, and may probably exist long after the revolutions of the earth shall have buried those islands in the ocean, and produced new continents in the seas, which are now merely speckled with embryo mountains.

The scene to be described occurred at a roadside farm and tavern in the state of Delaware, where I stopped to give my horse a feed. A pedlar's waggon was at the door, and there were three men lounging about, one of whom was the farmer, waiting to see the

STRANGER. Can my horse have a feed of corn ?
FARMER. I guess not.
STRANGER. How much farther shall I have to drive ?

FARMER. Why, stranger, you may go as far as you like, or you may stop here.

STRANGER. But I want to give my horse a feed.
FARMER. We can fix that for you.
STRANGER. Did not you say he could not have a feed of corn ?

FARMER. I did, and it's a fact. I'll give him as much as he can eat, and more too, but no corn. We haven't much for Christians, less for niggers, and none no ways for a horse.

This reminded me of the mistake I had made ; the word corn, in the States being applied exclusively to Indian corn, with which horses are but seldom fed. My horse was therefore to have oats and chopped hay, with a little bran and salt, which a nigger lad, called from an adjoining field, soon gave him ; while I joined the two men at the door, one of whom was a Connecticut pedlar, and the other a Kentucky horse-dealer and general merchant, or as he called himself, a ring. tailed roarer and screamer. The following dialogue then ensued, which perhaps requires no farther introduction.

he'd carry

KENTUCK. Well, stranger, I go for to lay down that you pride yourself peculiar on that horse.

STRANGER. Nor at all.

KENTUCK. He isn't worth quite a thousand dollars, but somewhere between twenty and a hundred, more or less, with no cents over.

STRANGER. You are right.

KENTUCK. Well, then, if you ain't proud of him, pre-haps you 'll spring a leetle, and reach York satisfied, if I show you a crittur of mine that can eat his own weight in hay, and then clear a loghouse without knocking off the shingles. Here he is ; and if Andrew Jack. son wanted to buy him, he shouldn't have him for one cent less than I'm going to sell him to you for.

STRANGER. I am obliged to you, but I do not intend to buy him.

KENTUCK. Oh yes, you will, when you know him well. This ain't a common go-by crittur, but is powerful peculiar, and cor-rect.

STRANGER. A good racer, perhaps ?
KENTUCK. Why, not exact ; but if he was,

all before him.

PEDLAR. Except six behind.

KENTUCK. He never tried to do anything and couldn't. As for going, he can do that and begin agin when the others leave off. No one going the same way on a 'pike ever saw anything but the crittur's tail when he was ahead, and didn't choose to be overtaken. Wher. ever he moves, he's the best.

PEDLAR. Except four, and they are blind.

KENTUCK. Don't provoke me, for I feel all over kind of snapping turtle with a spice of bear. It's dangerous to ask me what's o'clock when I don't look straight. Whatever I take up I put down flat, and stand on it. My arm ain't entire iron gratis, I guess. Nothing but a vice made double-strong on purpose could make me leave go when I choose to hold on. I expect I was the very best at a tight screw of all them as stood raised in Babylon.

PEDLAR. Except six, and they couldn't hold any.

KENTUCK. Except none, you leetle man. Ask any one, from the mayor down to Scotch Sandy, who had the most gunpowder and iron in him, and you 'll find me named, and no one within one day of

PEDLAR. Except three ; and it's twelve o'clock with them when it's
only six with you.
KENTUCK. It's well for


you ’re a leetle man, or I'd make you creep through the crown of your hat, no ways slow.

PEDLAR. I never creep ; I'm a climber, I am. When I climb, I go up like a squirrel or a 'coon. I could get up a hickory while you were only looking at it. I've climbed all the trees in Connecticut except five, and they isn't grown yit.

KENTUCK. You climb! Why, I can climb where no man can follow. I'm not a ring tail'd roarer in fun ; I'm a screamer, I am. I go up, and clear the tree of boughs as I go on; for when I come down I jump. and dive into the earth a foot deep, like a spike. There ain't any as can beat me at climbing no way, I calcylate.

PEDLAR. Except three, and they never tried.

KENTUCK. Out, you varmint ! and let me sell this here crittur to the Yorker, who knows something when he sees it, and can under


stand a crittur full of stuff, and not much outside. He'll buy this crittur, to make double his money of him at the market to.morrow, or at Tattersalls on Saturday. Now this crittur ought to fetch a high price, if he's bought only as a curiosity, as the saying is.

Pedlar. Yes, this is the hoss that was going along a 'pike, and was chased by the lightning seven miles, and wasn't fixed.

KENTUCK. No nonsense; but I'll say this, he 'll go at any pace under a steam-engine at full speed, and will overtake a first-rate steamer, if it stops to take in water. He's the cheapest crittur, too, as ever I seen; for he'll go by a toll-bar on a 'pike before the man can look out to see if anything is coming.

STRANGER. No doubt the horse has many virtues, but one horse is enough for me.

KENTUCK. Yes; but I'll take your horse in exchange.
STRANGER. I do not wish to part with it.
KENTUCK. You 're not an Englisher, are you?

STRANGER. Partly English and partly of New York. My father was an Englishman.

KENTUCK. Well, I'm glad you’re New York; for I shouldn't like to sell this crittur to an Englisher; they don't know the vally of any. thing like this. It's just a leetle above their reach, it is. I hate the English. If I thought I had a drop of English blood in me, I'd take a knite and rip the place open, and let it out. But we fixed 'em last war, and so we will next, and next after, till none of 'em remain to say what became of the others. Stranger, don't leave till we've fixed the bargain.

STRANGER. I shall not buy the horse.

KENTUCK. Well, then, I'll swap him for yours and a ten-dollar note.

KENTUCK. Five dollars.

KENTUCK. Give me a dollar, then, and your horse, and you shall have him.

KENTUCK. I expect I'll swap him without the dollar.
STRANGER. Not with me.
KENTUCK. How much do you want with your horse?

STRANGER. I'll neither sell nor swap ; so don't trouble yourself any farther.

KENRUCK. I'd be sorry to prevaricate as you have done, stranger. If I were to have you before the squire, he'd make you give up your horse no ways slow, that 's a fact, after bargaining as you have done. I'm a lectle maddish, I guess ; but I don't want your horse, and you shouldn't have mine if you were to offer me fifty dollars to swap.

I'm not to be treated in this manner, and take it mild twice. I wouldn't advise you to try it.

STRANGER. No offence. Don't let us quarrel.

KENTUCK. Oh, it's easy to say no offence ; but another time don't be so ready to play off your New York tricks. Make a bargain, and then clear out of it, ain't easy anyhow. It wouldn't do at all in Ken. tuck, no way you could fix it.

Pedlar. Have you been to the Bowery lately, neighbour ?
STRANGER. Not very lately.


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