Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

place. We were very much discouraged, as may be supposed, to find ourselves, after traveling so long, almost at the same point we had started from; but it was useless to repine, so we took the “ back track” once more, II ,as usual, lead in* the way. After traveling an hour or so, I found that he was again taking us iti the direction of Goliad. Time was too precious to be wasted, so I called a halt ami told II peremptorily that I would follow him no further. He insisted that he was going ill the right direction, and I, as positively, that he was going direct ly contrary to the course we ought to pursue. He was obstinate, and so was I. H —*— had been born and reared in a city, whilst I had lived the greater part of my life upon the “frontiers,” and had been accustomed to the woods ever since I was old enough to carry a gun. For this rea- son, I was satisfied I was the better woodsman of the two. Besides, I possessed to a considerable degree what frontiersmen call “ hog know-, ledge,” by which is meant that sort of instinctive knowledge of courses which enables some people to stem their way through ■woods and path less prairies, without a compass or any prominent landmarks to guide them. I, therefore, told II if he persisted in going on, we would certainly have to part, though I was very loth to do so, under the circumstances in which we were placed. Thereupon, I turned and took the opposite direction to the one we had been traveling, with-i out further parley. ; who was no woodsman, followed me, for the reason, I suppose, that he too had lost confidence in II ’s capa bilities as a guide. II remained stand ing where wo had left him—apparently undetermined in his own mind what to do—until we had gone perhaps a hundred yards, when I observed him turn and follow after us. When he overtook us, he merely said, that he “had rather go wrong than part company,” and no allu sion was afterwards made to the subject, hut from that time forward I always took the lead, as a matter of course, Duty. Whene’er a duty waits for thee. With sober judgment view it. And never idly wish it done: Begin at ovtk and do it. An excellent mother, in writing to one of her sons, on the birth of his eldest son, says : “Give him an education, that his life may be useful ; teach him religion, that his death may be happy.” 13 LJ It K K’ S W KE K LY . Written for Burke’s Weekly. “ The Mother’s Eyes.” ‘ What the blue sky is to the mother, the mother’s up r iseil eyes and br w are to the child—the type and sym bol of an invisible Heaven 1” — voi.kkidgk. The little one knelt at the mother’s knee — “Look upward, darling: dost thou see How fair and lovely are God’s blue skies?” But the child gazed in the mother’s eyes, For, finding therein a heaven of love, It cared not to look beyond or above.” Written for Burke’s Weekly. THE TOMB OF WASHINGTON. Mount Vernon repose §&£ the remains of him who ±npjc was “first in peace, first ykibmMl 1 iH m war, and first in the gk hearts of his country - wl men.” Mrs. Anna Cora Ritchie thus speaks of a visit which she w 5 paid to this hallowed spot some f; years since: “ By a narrow foot-path we ascended a iMI Bill Iw * I I fl' ii £JR yi| M majestic hill, thickly di\iped with trees- The sun scarcely found its way through the luxuriant foliage. We mounted slow ly, but had only spent a few minutes in ascending, when we came' suddenly upon a picturesque nook, where a cluster of un ostentatious white marble shafts shot from the green earth, enclosed by iron railings. These unpretending monuments mark the localities where repose the mor tal remains of Washington’s kindred. “Just beyond stands a square brick building. In the centre you see an iron gate. Here the crowd pauses in reveren tial silence. Men lift their hats and wo men bow their heads. You behold with in two sarcophagi.* In those moulding tombs lie the ashes of the great Washing ton and his wife. Not a word is uttered as the crowd stand gazing on this lovely receptacle of the dust of America’s might s dead.” * Sarcophagus conics from two Greek words, signifying flesh eating, and was applied by the ancients to a species of stone, used in making coffins. With us it means a »fone coffin. In 1825, during LaFayette’s stay in the United States, and just before leaving the country, he paid a parting visit to Mount Vernon, and the grave which contained all that remained of his beloved friend, Overcome by tender recollections, the great patriot of France wept long over the dust of the great patriot of America. No better example than than that of Washington can be cited in the pages of history for the guidance and instruction of the young. He was an obedient son, an affectionate husband, a consistent i Christian, a brave and skilful soldier, and a true patriot. “To his latest breath,” says the distinguished Lord Brougham, I “did this great patriot maintain the noble character of a captain the patron of peace, and a statesman the friend of justice. 1 Dying, he bequeathed to his heirs the I sword which he had won in the war for “liberty, and charged them ‘never to take it from the scabbard but in self-defence, or in defence of their country and her freedom;’ and commanded them that when it should thus be drawn, they ‘should never sheath it, nor ever give it up, hut prefer falling with it in their hands to the relinquishment there of,’ —words, the majesty and sim ple eloquence of which are not sur ! >assed in the oratory of Athens and \ dome.” \ gggr- Pray earnestly, sincerely, \ md with a contrite, humble heart, 1 and God will hear your prayer, and [grant your request. Powers of a Bird’s Song. Pi ROM Tundsdall’s Glaciers and of the Alps, we take the * “When we hear the song of the soaring lark, _ we may be sure that the entire atmosphere between us and the bird is filled with pulses or undulations, or waves as they are often called, produced by the little song ster’s organ of voice. This organ is a vi brating instrume if, resembling in princi ple the reed of a clarionet. Let us sup pose that we hear tin- song of the lark, -devated to the height of 500 feet in the air. Before this is pos» b e the bird must ~ave agitated a sphere of air one. thous and feet in diameter—-that is to say, it must have communicated to seven thous and eight hundred and eighty-seven tons of air a motion sufficiently intense to be appreciated by our organs of hearing.” 123