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Ik 1 sphere, ami in wi' utv at large. Am jag lav roast important oi the-*; is cooversat.otl uir engine so (hi wei ltd uj'ua tec umul.s «um! dm ratters of mankind i:i go era!, i tat IcauK .tales before it, an,l wc.iito. in comp • ia>on. is but leading con. Il imtchninku g \\i .e in deed the great obect ol human I.lia l should senrel v ditto to make ties assertion, since Jew nicu ci 00-e lupii.Cii for t..< r ('iii.tn i.u w here Health or I c mty an to b la h 1 urns:, however, t t.'t.k mote t oblv ot the !« itt >■ sex. nnd be I eve them note sol e.io. < to ictaui af fection u tier the in.iteii is ri.mictntin - titj-iv to lie led to tite aifir, as " i\< s \>;.o ii.fh.oaee will flint «lnv is’ l.i l aside w ;!t ti e r ''tenths of nltiit: idles, ;ui<l laid as.dr i>> ever. IT bo u!v or weal. t hit'C l*r:i ti e butt it this connexion, the luide in t\ g;:’ er up t.,e wreath of roses, stad j ’ ce t! em again upo.i ber polished bi-ow : tiny. may lo.'mv t.e treasury oi her we at t \> tho.it re erve. ; id jerin.l the liusUand -et her eao.-ce to " -1 o' ier goo llv lands to g!d Ins waste,’ s e may «!o what she will—(brass, bloom, or descend from affluence to poverty —b.;t il s e lias to iuii'ilec-tual bold upon her husband s lie it, s' *■ must iiovtfublv lavotuc tint mo.t helpless of eiuthlv o!reels—a >1 g!i t I w How pleusantlv the evening hours may lie made to pass when a woman who can con. terse Will tolls I cjpule ti.o t-me. lint, on t c other lltl'ld, how wretched is the pot!.oil of that man w'io Jiea'ls the dull e-i of It s own fin side!•—who sees the clog ol h:s ex -tei.cc forever seated there !---thc same, in t. e and« tiden it:" influence site has u; mi bis s; nits, -to dav, i,, ■ ’ as yesterday, to-morrow, anil l.e i ext day. anil the text! Welcome, thine welcome, the often invite I , isitcr. who b.i uks the dismal du! ness of the sect to. From ihc Knickerbocker. t'ATMA'KfHS. It is delightful to behold ti.e patiinrch de scending gracefully into the vale ofyc in, tilhr from the noise of life, and the strifes of vain ambition, sutrottnded hv the ehildron whom God has given him. till wring in .acts of filial ntKrtion, nii'l basking in the snnshii.i of that happiness of w hich l.e is the source. I have vAv.xtchcd such tin one, vent nfti r jw, not ot.lv ’by the words oi Ii is counsel, but what is of lar mote importune! , the intluence of ex on; !r. leading then, into the paths of virlne, and illustrating tiie words of the Scriptures, tlmt • her ways are wavs ot pleasantness, and all her paths are paths of peace,’ I have seen him sink like the sun, with no cloud to obscure It’s setting, shedding around him, ns lie touch ed the horizon of life, a mild and benignant light, and sinking tit last into the arms of death, tis gently as the dimness of a summer’s twilight glides into the shades of evening. Tiie venerable man, moving with tremu lous majesty among the scions of his lion e. and lording it over his little empire of hearts ; now bending inuetsofeo t tgo piety,or blessing tho contents of his humble board, ufleets the generous heart with a dee] er sati.sfuct on, than ttit; *|Ktctucle ofthe liered.tiiry mo larcb, mov ing resplendent amid the eiowd ofhis courties, and peers of the realm. These quiet family scenes in the country, delight one more than the contemplation of those characters whom the world call great: who stand out in bold relief in the drama of ex istence, citlier by personal procss on the field of battle, or the gigantic power of their minds. Tnerc is, it is true, something infinitely mote grand in viewing one’s little barque tossed about o:» the billows if worldly strife and ambition, titan to behold it safely moored in some serene and settled have!’. There is a more exciting interest in viewing a lio-t of hu man passions fam e 1 into fury, and struggling 1 for mastery, than to look upo i tho | careful adornment of every gentle and endearing, virtue. In the one case we have ti e sublime, in the other the beautiful, of morality. The one is a spe fade which rises trie mind too much above its common level, and excites sensations of too into >e a natme to he long endured. The other is a pichnc so culm and beaunful, that we become tiie more ennamour etl ns we gaze. Like those tranquil land scapes, whicli nature has adorned with tiie less bold, but not !c s perfect, touches of her pencil, it occas'o.'is no high excitement, hut an equanimity which is >t II moo pleasing ; and acting with the charm o! soft and sweet music, il quiets every passion of the soul. I have lately had u veasron to admire, in t'ae gallery of ;i quo; country gc .t'emcn, to vvltoni tae liberal arts ate by no means strangers, two pieces which are re.n.irl;a!>e for their con trast, and which arc the cltrf d'ccurres of no inc.au a lists. I :C oac topic-cuts the death see.it: of an humble p t iare.j, ft*: other of ilie most dist ngiiis l eo! Europe m get.cr.,ls. So expres-ive a etite groups, so natural is every attitude of the attend nits, t ,at o <■ is scarce!' persuaded t '.at lie is viewing h.,t the canvass; Tiie soldier is drawn vv.tlt I :e insign a of war, and tue accoutrements id t. e battle-field strewed around ti.e apartment. !I s officers end stall are bv Ins bed side, watching tile inoujcut wiiuti tile last breath shall have le < eded from his lips, and annotißood t; eeial of. existent 4 * 4 . Hois represented with his eves stnrutg wildly about, as if in search of some uveauu to esetipe his l ist invincible enemy. Struggling against the tli.sewn: with the ei.e-<; es of a giant coustitut.o:l, and grappling w 111 the tyranny of <leath. id it the pnliiarch's bead reclines as gently as for an evening’s slumber, lies silver locks repo;e ld-:e snow-flakes 0:1 bis brow, and in every benignant there is the iin press ol a spin! prepared to I much 11; on the untried waters," itbcalnn.es:; and v. i:!i innje-tv. M s rhildrcn me grouped lieude ldm, w. o are shedding no tears but those ot genmne . 01 now. lie places Ins band upon their heads, brent. e into their ear the last words of pu.enrol coun se.l, then yield, witliout lelucl.mee to the toucii which dissolves his being. As tlieso pictures are placed in juxtaposi tion, I cannot avoid comparing the subjects of them often in my mind, and sometimes in gazing ujkjii them, full into deep and protrac ted reveres i follow them, in imngiuat on. through tdl'lhe varied scenes of tlieirexistence. With the one, 1 am assisted in tie picture, I am drawing, by the portraying-* of the histo rian. I * wade through scenes of slaughter to a tin one.’ and behold him emblazoned w ith every emblem of loyal splendor. The other I imagine only at hm home, and Ins tit entile. .and he too is surrounded by jewels, but they 1 arch > children. I laving folk) wed them through i life, and to the extreme point ot extsttaiee, I I conjecture what must bo the foeliegy of each, t> tie stops from the threshold ; the one leuv mg eve v tiling be lind, the other having uli - . i ~is before. Tiie one driven to ! dc-cerat on, ns he lie'.ol Is the receding pano. ;m.a vs r aiiii ; me other delighted at the oj-enuig gioiies oi heaven. *• Alas !” lam Ipiomptel to excla.ni. “ poor is the weed ol lea.thlv struggles!” I ask not for the pomp jof we .ltii or power. 1 ask not lor tie lot o! tho e wiio e life is a fitful fever, winc e cleat!) is ! .go ;v, and t eir gilded tomb a mockery. It | is better to sleej) in death, wit.i nought hut the : green so l to mark the spot of our res* j la g-place, Ilian to l.e pressed vv.tii a load of | mo.iumeutat marble. I NOVEL METHOD OF procuring flowers in WINTER. In tl c course of our d.scursive reading we fi ll in w th the Hi owing curious mode of pro em; i g flowers:.t will, ns practised m Ge. mauv, and now publish it for tiie beta-fit of such of mu fair readers as arc eiirions in such things, l.e secret is, we l oncc.ve. a valuable one, as it enables the ladv of taste to decorate her looms oil festive o -eas:or,s, sit till seasons of the vear, vv.tii In r favorite flowers. — And it vv ,1 be seen, tint leafor flowers may be made to burst fust upon the astonished vision of tiie lie lolder. ns tiie i !e isure or caprice of the ex- I erimeutcr may prompt. “ A brunch pro in t oned to the size of the obect required is lopped I’ioin the tree, tin flowers of winch ate to be produced, and is plunge-1 into a spring, where it is left for an hour or two, to give time for such ice as may adhere to the bill; to melt and to soften the buds ; it is then carried into a chamber heated by a stove, and plan-1 m n woo !e:i vessel con tinuing wt ter, qui k IT. e is to lx; added to the ■water and left for I’d hours. The branch is then removed into another vessel containing water with a small quantity oi'v tin!, to revolt put.i faction. In a few hours the (lowers will begin to appearand afterwards the leaves. If inn e quick lime he ad c l the appearance of 11 ic flowers will he expedited ; ii on the contrary i one lie used the branch will vege tate mn.'c s'mvly and tho leaves will precede the flower.” We may here add tlmt bullions roots may j he made to blossom more rapidly* bv placing lime at the bottom of t lie vessel which contains the earth in which they grow. Wilmington Advertiser. AN EVENING IN ATHENS. BV HUNKY VV. IIILI.URT), K'Q. I was a wanderer. I stood in Athens. From the lofty Acropolis I looked forth upon Greece. The shades of evening were fixing around me, as I stood among tho shattered monuments of t ic intellectual city, and saw at my feet the nimble of Phidias. Tiie sun w as sinking in his glorv, and fling, ing bis parting smile upon scenes so levelv, that lie might well linger ii his leave-taking, livery peak afoul me blazed with lustre, and the glancing waives o ' tiie sea, upon which I looked down, were bright. J uere stood M nerva’s temple bailed in light, as it bad glowed in days forever fled, blessing tiiceyc of ti.e Greek when, returning from his wanderings, l.e looked upon it from the far off sea. The day hath gone, but see in that skv, vet bright with its Hiding glorv, is the evening star. * * ''*' * * I stood musing upon scenes gone bv. Here is Athens. Here, on this spot, for thirty centuries, thousands have lived, and loved, and thought, and died. Wealth, genius, power, nave trod this field, and wsought their dee.!, iline, i iic fame ol then achievements is throughout the whole earth. i i.e wonder!ul history of the spot rose be fore me, like a magnificent vision. Even! alter event passed in review, tiie nnghtv actors in the glorious past, swept by me vv itli ail tl.eii deeds. The Kings of Athens, her fleets, her ;ii tines, her scholars, vveic in my pie-cnic. First eame Ce reaps, with his Egyptians colony; the robes of tho King mingled w ith tae garments of the lhicst. He plants the ol.vc m hoi.o, of Minerva, and builds an altar toJupiter. 11 is venerable form glided away, and, on; by one, seventeen forms, with kingly bearing, passed on. Tee last I recognized as Go.bus, the patriot King, who loved his coun try bettor than Ins hie, and sought, in disguise, amid the conflicting ranks of the Heraelidtc, that death which the or .cle had declared would purchase victory for the arms ofhis I eojile. and which Ins enemies would have demed to him, had they known that it was “Codras whom they s'ltick. Tae light ii over—t ie Atlieui ms arc con querors, but lament tarns, are ming’ed with rejoicings, for they mourn a victory bought at such a price. Tney so eaiiy declare, that no one is worthy to succeed Codrus, and that liencetorth no man shall rule in Athens with tin; title of King. Before me stood the successors of the Kings not less lofty their be .ring, nor is their splen dour less. The piide of ancestry, the dignity o! authority, sat upon then blows ; and the purity ol private lie, the splendor of puhl.e services, toe stern administration of justice, made them truly illust 1 ions. At the fite-siiie, m the temple oi justice, on the battle-lie’d, they were alike above reproaeh. Under their wise and virtuous adm.lustration, their eountivn eu became renowned in arts and arms, -a id the glory of the Athenian name reached the re mote barbarians. Polished yet vigorous, re -1 liiici! yet manly, cultivating the most elegant arts, outstripping the. wo. Id in statuary and painting, leaching the subiimest philosophy, I and the sternest morality : they were fuee, j and upon the sen and upon the land their stau j d.ird floated in triumph. I look foith upon the broad surface of the j Ugeam. A glorious beauty overs; reads it, I and its delightiul islands sleep in undisturbed I ijuiet. J'nc l.caveils are mirrored in its gont'c , bosom, ami the tiny waves scarcely break its , icpose. Hat see a sail flits upon its mirfr.ee, and ano ther and vet nnotber...traiiM|>ortscrowded with j 1 nailed bot« sweep in view-.-and n train of ninitial music brinks over the waters I bco TIIE SOUTHERN POST. jibe crowded ranks of tbe Persian. I hear his i insolent shout of anticipated conquest, as he [draws n.jgli to the shores ofGiecce. He bears with him chains fortlic fiec. The unwarlike 1 Naxinns fly ; the inhabitants of Delos are too -oft lor the battle ; Paros, beautiful Paros, with its sparkling murble, is deserted. The dustring vines of Andros afford no shelter for its people, and the beautiful islands vv Inch so lately slept in tranquility, resound-will) clash ing arms, and are violated by the hostile tread ofthe Persians. Flushed with easy-victory, the in) randoms of Darius approached Athens. Upon the plains of Marathon, the host have 1 pielie I their tents. They promise themselves, conquest and plunder, and arc impatient to 1 rush upon a people, who though they might be' 100 proud to fly, are too weak to resist. The experienced Dalis, the illustrious Aria phci ns with the blood of Kings in bis veins, and ti e banished, treacherous Hippias, head the Persian ranks. Before them, Miltiadi.-s plants his ten thou sand Athenians and his ten bundled Plateaus. I -ee the waving banners, tlx; flashing steel, the rush of lx>>t against host. I hear the terrible shock of battle—the Gus-k strikes for j Ins home and eve y blow tells—the Persian cavalry is hotly pressed—it is broken. The Persian hosts give back. Onward rushes the (! reek spear, and thousands of tiie invadi is die. Bank after rank retreats—they turn, they flv, and the mighty army of Darius, lately so gcor geoiis and no confident, is scattered in wild fight. Tney pause not even in their camp; da y rush to their ship*. The Senate of Alliens jin solemn assembly await the icsult of the battle. They trust ii the steady valor of their countrymen, but they know tho tremendous strengt.i of the Persian army—their country, their ail.—is involved in the issue. It is an nounced that a soldier covered with dust and blood, (lying from the field of battle, approaches The Senators, in their anxiety, rise to their feet to receive him. Ifc enters in hot haste— '“ llcjO.ce with the victor,” lie shouts, and ex pires. Xerxes, with his millions, determines on the conquest of Greece, lie covers the sea and ti.e land with bis myrmidons. Ti.e great burners, wlncli nature laid erected against him, arc removed. He brings with hint all iiis regal splendour, and surrounds himself i o! only with tiie stir gill blit the pomp of war. IPs magnificent tents, beauti ful with silk and gold, overspread the land, and Ins vessels gav with every adornment, winch wealth could supply, float upon the ne ghlioring sea. He ascends an eminence to survey tlx; sconce—-.and as he looks forth upon the sea anil upon tiie laud, and nehnld.s the hosts armed to desola e tiie fair lands beneath him. Ins kingly heail is smote- -and lie weeps. Bat the love of conquest flames up w ithin him. Prom Doris, from i liessnly, from tlx; moun tains ot Pindus, Ossa, Pclion, and Oivmpns, come to him messengers with the humiliating' symbols of submission. Pile I hebans court the ft iend.-diip ofthe powerful Persian. But not all the states of G.eece have yielded—no. Some are unsub dued. \\ itness Tiicrmopyloc. Pi e Persian army approaches Athens. But the Athenians where are tl’.ev 1 Have they abandoned dteir city ? They have. The tombs ot their auce-itors, and their temples are forsaken ; their wealth, the adornments oft I icir «ornes, their statues, their pictures are all left to the destroyer, and vv-.tli their wives and their children, they seek, upon tho sea, the safety which they could no' find upon their natal soil. ‘Tiny were willing,’ in the language of an elegant historian, ‘ to relinquish nil for tiie sake of their country, which they knew consisted not in their houses, lands and effects, but that equal constitution of government, which thev had received from their ancestors, anti which it was their duty to transmit unimpaired to posterity.’ Day breaks over the Bay of Sulamis. The Grecian ships are drawn up in the order of battle. The -spirit of i’iiemistoi'les is diffused j throughout the whole multitude. Tiie sacred j hymns and pceans of the Greeks salate tiie! the light, and now break forth the triumphant song of war, anil the stirring voice of the trumpet, given hack in still louder and louder peals from the shores of Attica, and the rocks ofSulamis and I’svtallca. The persian ships hear up to the battle. Seated o i a lofty emi nence, enthroned, on the top of Mount/Egea les, the monarch of Persia looks out upon the light. * A King sate on the rocky brow, Which looks o’er sea-born Salamie, And ships by thousands lay below, And men in nations; all were his! lie counted them at break of day— And when the set, where were tney ? As that sitting sun sank upon the sea, he poured iiis splendour upon tl e wrecked and scattered fragments ofthe Persian fleet. Every hostile prow is turtle I ftom Greece.] Xcrces starts in wild despair from liis silver taro.ic. lie tests his splendid robes, and in deep dismay, abandons all thoughts of con quest, and seeks only to plant his leet once more on the soil of Asia. I look upon Platea. The sun flings Ins first light upon the Persian tents, and their splendour is dazzling. The hour of conflict is at band. Three hundred thousand aim; flash ttpen the plain of battle. The Persian commander, upon his while steed, leads Ins hosts in person, and an mates them by his voice and his deeds. But Greek, valor and Greek steel, meet the shock unmoved. Firce !y burns the rage of battle. It is evening. Pica tea is red with the blood of the Persians. Mordanius and his milk-white steed have fallen togetlier beneath the Grecian spear. The Greek is revelling in Pers an tents. lie seizes the magnificent couches of the invader, Ins tables of gold and silver, his yellow golden goblets, his bracelets of untold value, his scimetars adorned with precious stones, and Ins treasures heaped in chests. Upon the promontory of Mycalc, a like scene meets my view. The nctors in these scenes have passed away, hut their glory is undying-and this max well Ire called ‘ Clime of the unforgotten brave Fair clime! where every season smiles Benignant o'er there lilensed isles Which seem from fur Colon na'a height, Make glad the heart tlmi Inula lhe sigh', And lend 10 loneliness delight 1 Here is Athens. Tii; glorious dead still crowd upou me. Tuo venerable form of Socrates is before me. His moek face, and I calm high brow, present si true pictitre of that [ih.losophy, winch recognises man as’an irn j mortal being, and bids him look out upon I eternity. He troll these streets—he looked upon this sea—these heavens were arched, i above his head uufol eii llioir glorious niagnifi-, | fence, by day and night, to Ins contemplation, lie sjjcaks, and I listened to his sublime sjiecu [ lalions. The wing ofhis thought soars high in the heavens, and flashes in the sun, as it seeks to 1 discover and explore unknown worlds. 1 fol low him to Ins prison; what a sublime philoso phy does he here teach ? lie takes the poi-j soued enp'with no trembling hand, and puts it to his lips, yet eloquent wth the language of unearthly truth. lie is followed by Plato, his pupil. I re- ! cognise him by the elegance of his manner, I t' e polish derived from extensive travel, and; by that biow upon which Wisdom lias stani|X'd the impress of I’.er own majesty nature. The! divinity st.rs within him.’ The lustre of hig’i arid unearthly contemplation is upon his face. IBs conversation discloses the wealth of his learning—learning acquired, not only from the lips ot Socrates, whose instructions i.e en joyed for eight years, hut from intercourse with thf great ms every land. After the death ofins illustrious teacher, he turned his foot. I steps from Athens, and visited Megnra. Thebe and Elis. Ti e Pytlngorian philosophy draws him into Magna Gracia. Curious to observe the wonders of nature, he visits the volcanic fires of Sicily. Tin; fame of the mntheifeatician Tneodorus invites him to Egypt, and he perfects himself in philosophy. | Ilis nuuil being now stored with all the learning that tho world could yield hi n, he returns to Ills native city, and erecting liis tem ple in the grov os of A cade turns, he surrounds himself whit a crowd of illustrious pupils. Unscduced by political convulsions for forty years he devotes himself to divine philosophy, makes man, liis nature, and his destiny, the subject of his contemplations, and entertains liis li tends With discourses full of eloquence and truth. Among the mighty dead who vise before me, Deinojtl.etics stands forth, distinguished by ti c seveie majesty of bis countenance. Accustomed to utter his thoughts upon the sea shore, when his voice had been trained to master the roar of the waves, which dashed and broke at Ins feet, he addresses the multi tit tides ncoiit him, and they are still. He pours upon them the energy of his own soul, and they are swayed, like reeds before the tem pest. While be appeals to their love of coun try, and describes the invader approaching the city, the deep, loud cry of popular enthu siastn is heard from tln ir ranks—“ Let us march against Pailip.” But alas! who can promise liimsell the lasting enjoyment of po pular favor? Let the dying lips of the poison ed Dcmbsthenes answer. Glorious city, with thy wealth of fimo, 1 must leave thee. The night dews are heavy upon me, and, wandeier as I am, I may not longer converse with thy dead. I must puisne my pilgrimage. “ Farewell! a word vvhf -h-must be and hath been ; A sound whicli makes us linger, yel farewell.” PICA YUM RAN A. The fi inrfd of Advertising. —A merchant in one of our Northern cities lately put an ad. vertisemerit in a paper headed “Boy Wan. ted.” The next morning he found a band-box on his dom step, with this inscription 0:1 the top, “ How will this oneansvver ?” On open ing it lie found a nice, fat, chuhby-looking specimen of the article ho wanted, warni'y done up in flannel ! Spunk. —-“ Marin, njavn’t Igo play horse to-day ?” “ No, child, you must stay in the house.” “Now look here, inarm, if you don’t let me. I’ll go and catch the meazels—l know a big boy what’s got ’em first rate.” High rind Low. —’Tis an extradrdinary fact, says the Baltimore Sun, that when peo ple come to what is called high words, they generally use very Low language. How to inn hr a good I y ud ling. —Put in lots of good stuff, bake it well, and set it before a hungr'y person to cool. One Wag of getting an Introduction. —The girls in Boston are so hard run for acquaintan ces f the other sex that they frequently fall or slip down on purpose that the beaux may come and pick them up!—so says the Boston Times. “ Adeline” writes too masculine a hand to deceive us. N. Y. Whig. That’s just the case with our Lucy. Good Hoax Trie whole State of Illinois has been hoaxed into keeping thanksgiving... a proclamatio for one appearing in due fonn in all the papers, hut not discovered to ho a forgery.until the whole affair was Over. Buifaioniart. We should rather be. hoaxed into keeping thanksgiving than not: hoaxed into keeping fast would be a horse of another color. An Edi or in Trouble. —A young lady in Shippensburg has threatened the editor of the Herald with a “licking” the first time she catches him out. His anxious mother had better keej) him in We would much rather meet fifty men, armed with fifty pistols and Bowie knives, than one of the tender sex of the borough of S.iippensburg when “excited.” Caution. —Some Yankee is manufacturing Morus Multicuulis slips out of poplar trees. As I’ve no room to show my wit, I’ll give yon just two lines,and quit. * '““KMiwinpwiui l lll iUBHii an ■.<* DRESS MAKING AND MILLINERY. lAI HANLEITER wishes to inform the Lad e ivj of Macon, and vieinitv, that slip has come to tli • determination of pursuing the dress makixq business, and flatters In-melt that, from a Hie experience, site w it* give entire satisfaction to nil who nmv think proper t > engage her sendees. She will endeavor to obtain pat ents of the hint Sprin 7 I'tithinnn, and tie betiet prepared m suit those Ladies who may patronize het. {Qr- Her residence is on Third-street, in the hoti-'e formerly occupied by Mr B. Trapp. JttrMrs. SAGE will attend 'nthe milmneiy lutsine ► at the same bouse; and will HU tub and I’reti Bonnelt at short notice. January 19 j j. ORIGI N A L. Written for the Sruthern Poet. TIIE INDIAN GRAVE. In the county of Morgan there is a small stream fa miliarly known to the present inhabitants as “ Indian | Creek." Not far from its waters, upon a small hill, j near the cen're of a large plantation, is a considerable I mound of earth, nearly covered by stones and brush ' wood, known by many as the “ Indian Grave.” Toe ! name ot the Creek and the designation of the Grave, i are traced to die following adventure : j On tics Creek, early after diis parch.me was made from the Indians, a 9innll settlement had been com mence J. A few enterprising farmers, lire Jof the worn I out lands of Nordi Carolina, and enticed by the fruit fulness of the soil lying up and down thisstream, had already reared their rude cabins, and commenced ra pidly lo fell the lorest uround them. In eight of each | other, on three different elevations, might be seen three unhevved cabins, roughly cove ed with hoards, held in their places by heavy poles above th in. A li'de farther j off was yet another, tearing a strong and familiar like ; ness to the rest. This settlement wns several miles ! west ot any other, being nearer to the Indian line.— : Just beyond this boundary there was a considerable I number of Indians resident upon a small stream, on which they had reared their bark hut.-, and were pre paring for a permanent abode. How vain their £Xpec- I ta'ions ! The tide cl time and emigration has rolled on : Where are they now ? Answer it who can. | The e'dest of the four settlers was George Frazer— his age was rising forty, with nothing remarkable about the expression of his face, save an eye which looked as if it never slept; brigh', piercing and grey, giving to his coun'cnance the appearance of extreme caution and vigilance. His frame vvas well knit and stout, his height six feet. His nearest neighbor, Samuel Frit well, or as he was familiarly termed, Sum Fretvvel', was his cousin—his age about thirty-five—a reckless, daring man, rather below the middle height—he had, however, proportions of the finest order. Than him no man was mare athletic, and for steadiness of nerve and firmness of muscle, lie was one of ten thousand. In the use of the rifle he was unrivalled. Often in the chase cl:! lie, Iron) his covert, drive the bullet to the heart of the buck, while bounding by at full speed, dr bring to the ground the wild tttrkey, while coursing his rapid flight amid the tops of the tall pines. The o her two neighbors, William and James Dradshaw, were lirothcrs. Both Iwnest indus'rious men, such ns may he found nny where, with nothing remnrkab'e about them. The Indians raitly ever visited this settlement. It was so new that it vvas scarcely known. One and another had been occasionally seen, but no intercourse was kept up between them, fur as prudent men, they determined to have no connexion w ith them, other than such as vvas unavoidable. It vvas now spring time. Winter had pissed away, and with it the biting cold and nipping Trust. Theear ly buds were putting forth their leaves and flowers— the music of the birds had come, and in the silence of the evening tvviligh', might he heard the plaintive note if the lonely whip-poor-will, as he uttered forth his melancholy wailings. Our settlers were eagerly pie paring for the coming crop. In the afternoon of a hrigtr and sunny day.'Samuel Fretwell and George Fra/.er were engaged in their'effermgs, which were contigu ous to each oilier, industriously cutting and splitting the trees arou id them, when the report of a r.fle, at no g r eat distance fn.m them, attention of each ‘‘Heard you that rifle, Sam,” said Frazer; “who can be hunting so near our cabins ?” “ The timer, are too pushing for white folks to he out, I recon" said FretWcll, “unless they have more time to spare than I have. B it, hatke ! hide quick, for yon der comes a big buck, and if ‘Old Nancy,’ ( he naihc by w hich he called his rifle) dont miss fire, I recoil 1*1: shorten the gait at which he is travelling." Instantly snatching up a well-worn rifle w hich rested against a tree hard by, he gained a proper Vtuarf, and waited the approach of the deer. Swiftly came the buck, his head thrown back, his long antlers seemeJ t) pierce his very shoulders; unconscious ofthe danger ahead, lie bounded on, neither turning to the right nor left, un i! opposite the large oak behind which Fret weft had hid himself, and at the distance of an hundred yards. Quick as thought, the oIJ rifle was poised up on the hand of the hunter; a moment was sufficed to catch the object with his eye, and bring the to bear upon it—a single motion of the barrel vvas seen as it moved with the b mnd of the buck, and the sharp crack vvas heard. The result was certain. Fretwell never missed his aim. “ A right good shot that, cousin George, and a fine fellow lie is too," said he, as they walked up to the dy ing deer. “ The shot vvas good enough to kill him, ‘tis true, hut I must be allowed to say it was badly aimed ; the bul let just passe I through the fleshy part of his neck.” “ Where ?” said Fretwell. “ That is not my bullet hole, nor is tiiat the side at which I fired ; turn him over a..d I’ll bet you’ll find my hall just behind the shoulder; that’s the mark I shot at.” So saying, they turned the deer over, and sure enrm :h. they found tin; evidence of the unetring aim of the marksman. They had just settled the matter as to the shoot, when four Indians came suddenly up, all rifle in hand. They exchanged a few words among them selves, on seeing the deer, and one of them approach ed to examine it. On discovering the wound made by Fietweli’s bullet, he pointed to the muzzle of his rifle, and looking at the others, significantly shook his head. Turning him over, his countenance instantly changed* as his eye rested upon the rent made by his own ball. *‘ Ah ha ! me do dat—me first shoot—me first kill— mine deer, any how.” Thus expressing, in broken English, the conviction that the deer was his by right of the first wound, lie proceeded to lay hold of it, apparently careless of the presence of the real slayer. Hardly had he done so, when reckless of consequences, Fretwell struck him a tremendous blow with his fist that caused him to mea sure his length alongside of the stricken deer. “ Take that you thieving dog, will you, and begone; and kill your game on your own side of the line.” Two of the remaining Indians cock and leveled their guns simultaneously, hut the quick eye of Frazer de tecting their object, he sprung between them, seizing a gun in either hand, and before the Indians could ar rest their purpose, each rifle was harmlessly discharged into the earth. The fourth Indian an old man, being more wary or more prudent, interposed to prevent fur ther mischief. The fallen savage arising in the mean time, and recovering his gun, joined the others. A few words, unintelligible to our farmers, passed quickly be tween thi m, and shouldering their rifles, they passed speedily out of the clearing, in the direction in w hich they came Tiiey had not gone far before Frazer dis covered the furtive glances they threw around them in every direction, and saw that the oldpaeiji atur himself seemed to mark distinc ly, by quick but steady obser vation, the position of the cabins around. “ I am much mistaken, Sam, if you have not, by that hasty blow you gave that red skin, brought trouble up- | on yourself and the rest of us; those two yodngsters ! would have blowed you through, had I not detected 1 their purpose 111 time to prevent it; and that old ser- ■ pent who seemed ottly anxious to make peace, is ave- i ry devil, I 11 warrant, aril has planned many a dark scheme of villainy before to-dnv. Did you not see the j vengeance in his face and the fury in bis eye, as he j walked away ? Mark me well, Sam Fretwell, that old : savage is not to be trused : the others are young, and like yourself, somewhat hasty, but I would far sooner! trust their busty tempers than his wily malevolent spir- - it—they would forget it ail More a week passed, but he will repay us w ith interest, if it should take vrars.” “Well, what is done can't be undone," said Fret vvell, “ but they had better keep out of the reach of I 'Old Nancy,’ else I’ll try and make the debt'larger— we must only keep up a closer watch for a season, and their anger will p iss off. ’ | “Be not so easily flattered into secufitvs cousin* Sam —I atn an older man then you, and may be given to l ook closer into things ; at all event?, I am no judge of | human nature, if that old Indian doe3 not give us trou ' Me yet.” By this time the two Bradshaws, having heard the firing, came tip; matters were explained, and the ap prehensions of Frazer expressed—the danger was np. ; parent to iffi, and ere they separated, they arranged that a I the families, at n itftit, should occupy one house, n-'d that two of the men should stand on guard each n: ,ht ; alternately, until such time as the danger passed. In conformity with this arrange mem] that night was passed in watching, the duty being perform ed by the brothers Bradshaw, without resulting in aMV discoveries. Tile Indi ans came not. Titus performin'* the duties of watchmen, our little band of farmers ed many a night of sleepless vigilance. As ye*, to all appearance, it vvas done without necessity, and' exp v sed them to much fatigue and many privations. Ai yet, their cabins were imbuin', their families unharm e Not an Indian had been seen—-not even a foot print had been de'ectcd by the ever-wntchful Frazer. But stiff they did no: cease to pass the night upoa their accustomed guard, and even dttrin i the day, while en gaged in their farms, their faithful rifles were their con stant companions; and often, when approaching the outer verge of their clearings, they would pause, and cast quick and searching glances into the thicket, around them, and listen well, l est some skulking In ilian suddenly should spring upon them, or send tiie deadly bullet to their hearts. April had come Tiie leaves expanding with each returning sun, had mantled the f >rost in its vernal gar ments. Far aid near around the cabins of our settlers, lay one Unbroken woodland scene, save in the direo ii in of the Creek—there the labor of the axeman had bee l bestowed, and there the timber had been cat a tid killed, to give place to the coming crop. After the la bor* of a day, rather warm for the season, our farmers, vvi h llteir families, were quietly sitting around the hearih-lglr, eojoving themselves as well as posable, under the circumstances by which they were surround ed. M any had been the remarks upou indifferent mat ters— me subject leading to another, till at length they recurred to the subject of. their danger. “ We!!,’’ at length said Fretwell, “ I a:n beg mi at; to ihink our neighbors over the line are satisfied vv.th the scare we cave them, and are willing to let us alone— weeks have elapsed since the deer-killing scrape, and it strikes me if ever they intended to take vengea tee, they would have made a trial before now. VV’hai ihink you of it, cousin, Gojrire ?” Frazer being thus addressed, remarked, “Trust nit appearances, Sam—tltcy are deceitful—the surest way to cure un evil, is to prevent it. lam as liable to lie de ceived as another, hut never shall I believe o her.vise, than that cunning oi l savage in'e tiled to repay us the blow you inflicted upon his companion. Why he has | not already made the attempt, I am unable to say—he j may he only watting a favorable opp inanity toexecu e i iiis purpose. For myself, Id > not feel safe from his ' resentment, and am not willing to relax my efforts to ! avoid it.” [ Tiie sudden and fierce barking of a dog outside the ; yard, arrested the conversation, and fixed the a* ention [ of the speaker 1 “ Who goes there exebime l Frazer. I No answer vvas m ide—the dog barked on. [ “ Who is that ? C >me here T.gcr—come here sir." ! A' the bidding of his master, a large ear, leaping the [ fence, came hastily up, evidently Jis urhc 1 i t an u iu ! sua! degree, but quickly returned and contikuKl iiis angry barking. “ S line one must be ahoit',” Frazer continued; “ Ti ger never barks thus at any harnifess creature. 1 w ill close the doOr. If it he a.ny person desirous to co.uo j in, they will surely call.” The door was shut. In a short time tiie dog became | quiet—he had been deceived, or the intruder, had de parted. Frazer however, vvas not relieved of his ap prehensions. “ I should n >t he surprised," said he, “if the rascal ly red skins were about. Sam, look you well to the priming of your rifle, and do you,” addressing the two j Bradshaws, “sleep to night with un.el ised eyes, and ! firelock in hand; it may be, we may have to give them arutid at short; Slid do you wife, set the example so die other women, of coolness and courage. If wo are attacked, lie close with the. children, and in silence, prepare for any emergency. Sam, it is your turn and mine t > watch. You know your recklessness and pro pensity to underrate danger; be not too sanguine to night. \ou may deed more prudence than you are apt to exhibit. An incautious act may endanger all our hves. Be governed by if ie—place yourself where you cant he neon —keep your position—if you see an Indian, he sure of your aim, and fire. 'Tis perhaps best that we make the attack, if indeed there be In dians about, which I hope is not the case.” Tims ended his instructions—noth shouldered their guns, nnd cautiously leaving the house, proceeded to their hiding places. Frazer taking a tree in the rear of the house, Irom which position lie could see the ap proach of a person in any direction, in front or on ei ther side of him. Fretwell departing to the front of the house, settled him&lf down just inside the yard fence, between the fence and a large fallen tree, where he could command the approach to the house from, any p )int in that direction. Toe large dog was with Fra zer, under whose command he was as obedient as a child. Tiiese arrangements were noiselessly and quick ly made. ’T was past the hour of midnight. The fire had ceas ed to burn upon the cabin hearih. The inmates of tho house were silent, if not sleeping. Tiie notes of the wh p-p >or-will were occasionally heard, issuing from the low grounds of the adjacent Creek, accompanied by the solemn melancholy ho iiings of thesolitnry owl. Save these occasional ouibreaks upon the silence of the night, the f >rest slumbered o t in unbroken quiet. The moon shone not, hut the sky vvas unclouded, and the stars lustrous and brilliant, shed out upon the earth a calm and mellow light. Ever nnd again, the rus'ling of a leaf, the murmur of the wind; or the cracking of a st.ck, would cause the eye to ttirn in the direction of the sound. But no object yet had fixed the attention of the silent watchers. The night vvas rapidly wear ing away. Fretwell vvas beginning to manifest signs of impatience and restlessness, when a low nnd indistinct sound, like the note of a startled partridge, fell upon his ear. With interne interest he listened for a repeti tion of a sound. Nor long did he wait—it was soon repea'ed, and louder and more distinct than before - and immediately he heard it answered in the direction of I* razor s stand. The sound had come first from the woods More him, and thoug't he examined every ob ject with keen scrutiny, yet he could sec no living crea ture that could have given utterance to the sound. He had heard that litis was one of the Indian signals to en sure concert in their nightly prowlings, and he w as con fident in his belief that Indians W'ere about. “ Hang the rascal,” said lie, in communion w ith him self, 41 if he will just got out where a glimpse of star light con fall upon him, and ‘Old Nancy’ will butspeak sharp, I’ll make him feel more like a dead dog than a living partridge." Again his ear enught the sound, and nearer than be fore, and he heard the c answer given. \V hat meancth all this,” again mused Sant Fret well. 44 Nearer still, and no one to l>e seen. Were it even a partridge itself, aurely it would rustle the leave* enough for me to hear it, and 61 upon the spot at which *t stopped.’ 4