Newspaper Page Text
42
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
“Ye South Land Strawberry.”
"poet’s own.”
(01/ VIOLET by ye mossie stone,
“ Half Let ye remnant pass!
/s! ' I think I’d pick a prettier ono
fWcre I word’s-worthy, Lass !
I’d christen her my (kiss mel) own
Strawberry in ye Orassl
What should ye little blossom do
Beside yo mossie stone?
I’d liefer (kiss me!) hadn’t you?—
Liefer live alone 1
I think you’d (kiss me!) blush sky-blue,
So sweet without a smeller!
It looks to mo and ("kiss me !) you
Like fun without a feller!
Yet I have known a (kiss mo!) stone
Kiss-melted, (kiss me!) mellow 1
Ye Poet’s way! Your Uncle’s, yea!
Is lyric in a prism,
Kiss-molted, fit to run away,—
But then you’d miss him !—kiss him 1
lie takos strawberries, by ye way,
With cream and sugar,— Kiss Him !
F. 0. Ticknor.
Torch Hill, Oolumbus, Ga.
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
THE YOUNG EXPLOBEBS;
OH, BOY-LIFE IN TEXAS.
BY JOHN C. DUVAL,
Author of “ Jack Dobell; or, A Boy's Ad
ventures in Texas," “ The Adventures
_ of Big-Foot Wallaceetc.
CHAPTER V.
Getting Directions — Pitt’s Opinion of the La
dies — Uncle Rivers and his Family—Safe
Arrival and Distinguished Reception—Tell
ing “ the News ” —Fashion and the Fair Sex
• —The Exploration Projected—Dobell and
Pitt consent to join it — Family Prayei — A
Bedroom Chat.
remained at Goliad a couple
of days, and then re-crossing
the river at the ford, we took
our course towards the uppermost set
tlement on the Cibolo, where my uncle
Rivers had “cast his lines,” following
as closely as we could the “way-bill”
of the route which we had got from an
old hunter and trailer at Goliad. We
encountered no Indians on the way, al
though we saw their sign frequently,
and nothing unusual happened to us.
On the evening of the sixth day after
leaving Goliad, we came to the out
skirts of the settlement on the Cibolo
in which my uncle lived. Riding up to
the first house we saw, we enquired of
the good lady who came to the door
at our call, “ how far it was to Colonel
Rivers’ place?”
“ Why, bless my soul ! ” said she,
“you must be strangers in the settle
ment.”
We told her that we were.
“ Kin-folks of Colonel Rivers, I rec
kon?”
We owned up to the soft impeach
ment.
BURKE’S WEEKLY FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.
“Why,” said she, “he’s our nearest
neighbor; ’taint more than six short
miles over there. We kin almost hear
his chickens crowing on a right still
morning.”
“Well,” said I, “madam, will you
be kind enough to give us directions
how to find our way there?”
“To be sure,” she answered, “do
you see that lone tree out in the pe
rara, yonder?”
“ Yes, ma’am,” said I.
“ Well, keep right straight on to that
tree; and after you pass it about a
hundred yards, you’ll come to a cow
trail, but don’t you take that. Go right
across it, and you’ll come to another
purty soon; follow that till you git to
where it ‘splits;’ take the right-hand—
no, I mean the left-hand split, and it’ll
carry you into the road to Thompson’s
mill; mind, though, you take the left
hand split.”
“I thought it was the right-hand,”
said I.
“Did I say the right hand ? Well,
well! my poor head must be wool
gathering to-day. Anyhow, I meant
the left-hand. And when you come to
the mill-road, follow that till it splits ;
but you keep the straight forard split,
till it goes into the bottom, and there
it ‘ sprangles’ off so, and I really disre
inember what split you do take. Tlow
somdever, ’taint fur, anyway, from
there to Colonel Rivers’, and I reckon
you won’t git lost.”
We thanked the old lady for her
lucid directions, and rode off towards
the “lone tree,” which at any rate
was a beginning point that could not
be mistaken. When we were out of
the good woman’s hearing, Pitt said
to me,
“I have seen many women in my
life, who were intelligent, smart, and
well informed on most subjects; but I
have never met with one yet who could
give a man directions how to find his
way from one place to another, though
they may have travelled the route a
hundred times. It is an idiosyncracy
of womankind.”
“ 0, pshaw! ” said I, “you have been
snubbed by your sweetheart lately, and
are inclined to slander the sex. I don’t
think we shall have any trouble at all
in following the directions given us by
the lady.”
“I hope not,” said Pitt, “for I have
‘ soured ’ on camp fare for the pre
sent, and would greatly prefer a good
warm supper to-night and a comfort
able bed.” »
As we rode along, I gave Pitt a sort
of history of my uncle, and of each
member of his family, except the oldest
boy, Lawrence, with whom he was al
ready acquainted, having gone to school
with him in Kentucky, before they
moved out to Texas. I thought this
necessary, in order to give him some
idea of what sort of folks he would
meet with at my u le’s house.
We had no great difficulty, as I had
predicted, in following the directions
given us, and just as the sun was
setting, we came in sight of my uncle’s
house, a large double log-cabin with
porches all around it, situated in a
beautiful grove of pecan and live oak
trees. I had written to my cousin Law
rence, before leaving Houston, by a
traveller who was going to their settle
ment, that Pitt and I would pay them
a visit before long, and of course they
were on the look-out for us. Riding
up to the front gate, we dismounted
from our horses, and had hardly done
so, before my uncle and all the “boys,”
half-a-dozen darkies, innumerable
dogs, came pouring out of the house
and yard to welcome us to “Frontier
Lodge,” as the boys had named the
place.
When the row had quieted down a
little, I took advantage of the lull to
introduce Pitt to my uncle and cousins.
Henry and Will, my two youngest cou
sins, proffered to take care of our
horses, and the rest of us adjourned
to the house. The inevitable coffee pot
was then brought out, and whilst we
were sipping the fragrant decoction, I
answered as well as I could the numer
ous questions that were propounded, as
to “what was going on in the ‘old
States,” and “what had occurred since
they had left their old home in Texas.”
My aunt, and cousin Sophia—her eldest
daughter, were particularly anxious to
know what was the “latest style” of
bonnet worn when I left the States ;
and whether or not the hair was still
done up “ala blind bridle,” or was
worn, as they had heard, “en coif
fure.” I am afraid that I returned
rather “shackling” answers to these
and similar questions; but my friend
Pitt, who either was in reality, or pre
tended to be better posted on such mat
tters, came to my rescue, and gave them
the required information in regard to
the prevailing fashions, thereby raising
himself greatly in the good opinion of
my aunt and cousin Sophia.
Their never-failing interest in such
subjects, is to me a strange peculiarity
of the sex. I verily believe, if one were
cast away by herself upon a desolate
island, with no materials for a dress
except a few yards of old sail cloth, she
would carefully make it up in the pre
vailing mode. My aunt and cousin So
phia were just as much interested in
the fashions at Frontier Lodge, where
they never saw anybody once a month
except the members of their own fa
mily, as if they had been regular fre
quenters of Broadway.
After supper, my uncle gave me an
account of all that had occurred since
he had settled in Texas. He told me,
that for some months after they came
out, they had to undergo great priva
tions and hardships, and had felt the
want of many of the comforts and con
conveniences that they had been accus
tomed to in the “ old States.” “ How
ever,” said he, “we are getting used
to it now, and I do not regret the move
I have made. Our stock is increasing
rapidly, and we have an abundance of
all the necessaries of life, though not
many of the luxuries.
“There is but one thing,” he con
tinued, “that troubles me much, and
that is the want of good schools. lam
afraid my boys will run wild like the
Indians, and forget all they ever learned.
However, I have done all in my power
to remedy this, and have lately engaged
the services of a competent teacher,
who writes me that he will-be here in
five or six weeks ; and I shall expect
my boys then to quit the ‘ nomadic life’
they have been leading here, and apply
themselves diligently to their books.
But they are anxious to make the most
of their time, between now and the ar
rival of the teacher I have engaged, and
for several days past have been discus
sing a scheme for the exploration of a
tract of unknown country, lying be
tween the head waters of the Rio Frio
and those of the San Saba. I have not
sanctioned the scheme as yet,” said my
uncle, “but I may do so, particularly
if you and your friend Pitt would con
sent to join the party. I have confi
dence in your experience and prudence,
and should feel much less anxiety on
account of the safety of the boys, should
they go on their proposed expedition,
if you and your friend accompanied
them.”
I thanked my uncle for the good opi
nion he had expressed of my prudence,
and we both assured him that nothing
would please us more than to accom
pany the boys on their exploring expe
dition.
“ Well,” added uncle Rivers, “ I will
think the matter over; but there is no
hurry about it, for you and your friend
will have to remain here until your
horses are recruited, and in a condition
to take the road again.”
My uncle, although neither bigoted
nor straight laced in his notions, had
been a strict member of the church for
many years, and never, under any cir
cumstances, neglected family worship,
especially at night. So when bed-time
came came round, all the family, black
and white, were assembled in the hall,
when my uncle read them a chapter
from the old well-worn Bible, which
was evidently kept more for use than
ornament, after which the customary
evening prayer was offered up, and all
then retired to'their respective rooms.
Pitt, as the only stranger guest, was
ushered into the “shed-room,” which
he had all to himself, while I occupied
a large room with my cousins. As
soon as we were by ourselves, Will, my
youngest cousin, said to me:
“ Oh, cousin Jack, I’m so glad you
have come as you promised us. You
see, Pa has written for a schoolmaster,
and when he gets here, we’ll all have