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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