never fails to imbibe the very nicest and necessaries of life, had nobody gone abroad. most exquisite sensibility and taste for art. And there is a polish in such persons, likeOf course, he is forever afterwards tor- wise, which no one can deny, however they mented, because he is unable to bring home may effect to decry. Some people will Rome and the Louvre in his baggage. The say, no doubt, that bodies must undergo a remainder of his days is therefore necessarily hardening process, before they will "take spent in turning up his nose at every native on" such lustre; and that shilling pieces do production of taste he meets. However, we not grow smooth till they have lost all their owe him much. What should we know of original impression, and much of their incoffee and boots; of the ballet, aye, and the trinsic value with it. Let them talk. As ballet dancer, too; of dining at 6 and 7: long as such coin is not "cried down" it will and sixes and sevens; of salads, and be current, and currency among thousands soups, and soaps; and a million of other is the test of value. DECIUS. CHEERFUL AGE. THESE furrows so deep, that Time has ploughed, The garnering comes, and the wintry shock Yet hast thou marked where pebbly streams Where hoary frost from the upland gleams, How feathery ferns, in forest nooks, Mid the dusk of moaning beechen leaves, The bending shock, on the bleak hill, teems And the living fern, in its greenness, glads And soft rich moss, with its winter flowers, And a table spread with acorn cups, And birds, in the sunlight, stoop to drink And squirrels bark, in pleasant days, And all these furrows that Time has ploughed, Shall glow with beauty in heavenly light When I rise from the "wave of tears." Thus cheerful Age to another spoke Its thoughts like a pleasant rhyme, EMILY HERRMAN. A SUMMER IN GEORG I A. TRACK MOUNTAIN. CLARKSVILLE. TOCCOA FALLS. AMONG the objects of interest to the fit. It is singular to what an extent this tourist in Upper Georgia, Track Mountain superstition has obtained among the whites holds a distinguished place. It is situated about thirty miles distant from the vale of Naucoochee, and is visible from it. The summit is a mass of rock, in which are numerous impressions resembling the tracks of men and animals. Some of these are of gigantic proportions. There is a track of the human foot more than thrice the natural size, having six toes; and, close by, is a horse track of the same magnificent proportion. The Indians have two or three traditions concerning this mountain, one of which I will relate. For some reason not clearly understood by the present race, the Great Spirit became angry with his red children, and, to punish them, He resolved to destroy the world by a flood. That the race should not become extinct, however, He caused the chief of the Cherokees to construct a great canoe, and to stock it with provisions for many days. When the rains began to descend, the chief and his family, accompanied by a great variety of animals, entered this canoe, and were thus saved from the general destruction. For nearly two moons they were tossed upon the angry bosom of the great waters, when at last the storm ceased, and the clouds fled before the sunlight. Yet the waters seemed not to abate, nor were they aware of their proximity to earth, till they beheld the bold crest of what appeared to them a huge mass of rock looming up in the distance. What was their joy in approaching it, to discover the summit of a veritable mountain, and a near prospect of again beholding the good earth. Upon this mount they rested their canoe, and effected a landing. The action of the waters upon the soft limestone -they aver-made it impressible, and the tracks found there, they affirm were made by the survivors of the great drowning, in descending to the valleys; and that as they became exposed to the powerful rays of the sun they rapidly hardened, leaving the impressions distinctly marked. The huge tracks of the man and horse they say were made by the chief, who was a mighty warrior, and his favorite war-horse. The Indians consider this mountain sacred, and believe that the Great Spirit is displeased when a white man dares to ascend themselves. A curious incident was related to me while in the vicinity, which I thought a good illustration of the credulity of human nature. It was told me again and again, by different persons, with the most apparent sincerity. The The story is that one Doctor Stevenson, of Georgia, a man full of romance and noted for his adventurous spirit, visited the neighbourhood with a determination to explore the sacred mountain. honest, simple-minded inhabitants endeavoured to dissuade him from his purpose, but without avail. Providing himself with a mallet and chisel, and securing a companion somewhat braver than the rest, he set out from Naucoochee valley, one lovely morning, for the interdicted mountain. Arrived at its base, they fastened their horses, and with some difficulty-in the absence of a path-made the ascent. All was calm and beautiful, not a cloud obscured the horizon, and with a smile of pity at the weakness of humanity, the Doctor selected a track for removal, and with enthusiasm set about his perilous task. At the first blow of the mallet, however, he was startled by a sound like distant thunder. Nothing daunted, he continued the operation, when the sky became suddenly overcast, the lightning played incessantly about him, the deep-toned thunder breathed forth its voice of warning, and the rains came down like a flood upon him. Still the Doctor labored on until the trophy was secured. They then descended the mountain; but ere they reached their steeds, the storm had passed, the sky was once more serene, and they rode homewards under as bright a sun as when they came. The Doctor has published a lengthy account of his adventure, as full of romance as himself. He says that he never experienced such a storm before, and he could not but feel himself guilty of sacrilege. The track which he removed, after exhibiting it to great numbers in the vicinity, he sent, I was informed, to the museum of Philadelphia, where it may still be seen. Although there was nothing particularly wonderful in a sudden storm upon the top of a high mountain in midsummer, yet it was sufficiently so to convince the superstitious of supernatural agency, and to deter them from like attempts. The mountain, however, is now frequently visited, but I led so beautifully in the sunlight, that I almost fancied the nymph of the stream to be offering incense to the. God of Day. The precipice is as perpendicular as if hewn out by the line and plummet. Several men called to me from above-they looked like lads of fourteen. The trees about the fall are literally covered with names, some dating as far back as 1828. Not to be unfashionable, I clambered up a tree and recorded my name, as far from earth as the most ambitious had done before me. Lovely as is this place, it is connected with a doleful legend. Retracing my steps, I next visited the top of the fall and looked below. The depth Clarksville is a very pleasant little town, was indeed fearful, yet I gazed downward and is a popular summer resort for the without awe or dread. The course of the southern planter. It is the shire town of stream, as it winds gracefully along amid Habersham County; and is delightfully the luxuriant forest trees, the deep green situated in the midst of the most magnifi- of whose foliage contrasts beautifully with cent mountain scenery. Located, as it were, its own sweet silvery breast, is of itself in a circle, about which, and within a reason-sufficient to repay a visit; but in the falls, able riding distance, are Mount Yonah; Nau- beauty herself lies mirrored. coochee Valley; Track, and Aunt Sall's Mountains; Toccoa, and Tallula Falls; and several spurs of the Blue Ridge; while not Early in the history of the country, a far distant is the hospitable mansion of the party of whites were encamped in its vicinlate lamented Calhoun. What is worthy ity. Dreading the numbers and vindictiveof particular note in Upper Georgia, the ness of the Indians, they endeavoured to hotels of Clarksville are admirably kept, and keep their proximity a secret to them. By I am happy to add, that at the time of my some means an influential Squaw discovered visit, they were admirably sustained. The their retreat. They treated her with the town is noted as the summer residence of utmost kindness, and by the aid of numesome of Georgia's most distinguished sons, rous trinkets, they gained her confidence. among whom are, Hon. J. M. Berrien; the She was urged to keep her presents hidden late General Clinch; Judge Law; and from her people, and for a time did so, but the the Hon. J. McAllister. All these have natural vanity of her sex overcame her resoor had pleasant country seats in its vicinity. lutions, and she displayed them publicly. On the way from Clarksville to Penfield, By these means the vicinity of the whites S. C., about seven miles from the former became known, and a council of warriors place, the tourist comes upon the Falls of was assembled to decide upon their fate. Toccoa. They are situated close by the They resolved upon their entire destruction. high way, and are particularly admired. AA dark rainy night was chosen for the exsmall stream passes over a precipice 180 feet in depth, but the volume of water is too small to be heard at a great distance. A winding path leads to the foot of the fall; and following this, I came to a large rock in the stream, directly in front of the fall. Seating myself upon it, I cast my eyes upward, and could not but exclaim-Toc-, coa! Toccoa!-well did they name theeBeautiful! For more than an hour did I gaze upward with the deepest admiration. Over the abrupt and fearful steep, the lovely little stream came flowing so gently, so calmly, that it seemed the highest pleasure to float down upon its bosom. Here was no wrestling of currents, no bellowing of floods, no rebounding of the waters as they struck the rocks below. True, a sheet of mist curled upward, but it arose so gracefully, and withal glisten pedition, and the Squaw was commanded to guide them to the camp. She readily acquiesced, promising that if they would closely follow her, they should have the scalps of a hundred whites. By a narrow path, admitting but one at a time, she led them to this abrupt precipice, and stepped immediately off. Those behind fearing each to lose sight of his predecessor, pressed after her one after another, until all were buried in the vortex below. Thus did this faithful Squaw sacri. fice herself and the lives of her warriors, to preserve the whites from destruction. Tradition affirms, and the superstitious there believe, that on every dark rainy night the death wail of the warriors is borne upward on the mist, and is audible above the noise of the waterfall. GAYLORD. Mobile, Oct., 1850. LETTÉ. How dearly I answer fair things and bright, From the fond lost look, renewing in dream, A dear delight is the calling chime JEROME A. MABEY. DANDELIONS. ["When Simeon turned his steps homeward, the boys ran out shouting, "Father's coming!' and little Mary went toddling up to meet him with a dandelion blossom to place in his button-hole.' "The little orphan pointed to the fields covered with dandelions, and said, 'See how pretty! It looks as if the stars had come down to lie on the grass.' BRIGHTLY on the pasture land, On the mountain hazy, Cheerily with early spring, Brings it for the rabbit food, Learned the time of day, Then it grew among the tombs, Told among its yellow blooms, Many an ancient story. Near the pathless wood, Near the cattle's by-way, In the solitude, On man's trodden highway. For the lonely orphan child, For the father coming, MRS. CHILD.] EMILY HERRMANN. THAT travelling and ruin are synonymous, has ever been a favorite maxim of my father, and notwithstanding so many proofs to the contrary, he would insist upon it, that a young man, after spending a fortune in dashing through the most noted places of Europe, and figuring in the travelled lists of our own country, will return to his native place discontented with its quiet dullness, and a feeling of contempt for all its inhabitants. Thus reasoning and thus believing, I could never gain my father's permission to travel, though there was nothing I so ardently desired; but under the pretext that a country life had suited him very well for thirty years, it must, of course, follow that it should suit me also. I must inform my reader, that my father is the proprietor of a township of land, granted long before to my grandfather, who was an officer in the war of the revolution. It is beautifully situated on one of the western lakes, well wooded, and watered by a lovely stream. Of course, my father is the great man of the place. A handsome village had sprung up under his auspices, filled with the usual number of professional idlers, and, as magistrate and superior, he found plenty to do. Among those who had settled here from friendship to my father, was a Mr. Adams, an old school companion, who had been unfortunate in business as a merchant, but who had realized a large fortune by engaging in the lumber trade, for which my father's woods furnished the means, and his own industry added the rest. He had built and handsomely furnished a large substantial house at the extremity of the village, where he resided with his numerous family. He had been twice married, and his only daughter by his first wife, had been left in New York with an aunt to complete her education. Happily for me, the means for a finished education were not found at home, and I was sent to an eastern college to graduate, where I obtained a knowledge of, and a relish for, refined society. My amusements after my return, were confined to the sight of a billiard-table at the modest hotel; the intelligence of the village scandal from the gossips, during their morning calls upon my mother; a game of loto with some of my young companions of an evening; and There was little else talked of in Thornwatching the arrival and departure of the ton for a month previous, but the expected stage every morning. I would not have arrival of Miss Joanna, oldest daughter of any one think that my education had been | Mr. John Adams, rich lumber merchant, thrown away upon me, and that I found no who had been ten years a stranger in her pleasure in literature; but I was of an age father's home. Her education was now that demands excitement and variety, and finished. The masters at the French boardbesides, one cannot read for ever, at any ing school where she had been last placed, could teach her nothing more; and now, to celebrate this happy event, Mr. and Mrs. Adams were going to give a grand reception party to the whole neighbourhood, with music, refreshments, and embellishments,such as we had never dreamed of in our quiet town. age. 66 Wearied and vexed with this life of restraint and inaction, I at length attained my majority, and again I tried to persuade my father to alter his determination, and permit me at least to study a profession. "Patience, my son," he would say, you shall have employment enough next summer, in laying out lots and superintending our new improvements; but for the present you shall not leave me, I will have no prodigal son in my family; you are our only child, and your mother's heart would break at parting from you again. In the meantime, amuse your self with your books, gun, and fishing-rod, and think no more of New York, London, or Paris. We are going to have a great addition to our society this spring, the daughter of my old friend, Adams, is expected, and then you will have gaiety enough?" I don't know how it was, but from the first, I had conceived a violent prejudice against Miss Joanna. I shrewdly suspected that my father hoped that her charms would have power to make me forget my wish to travel, and from the singular anxiety he showed about my first appearance, I thought that I was to pass in review before this accomplished young lady, to receive her sentence of approval or denial; that they were not uneasy whether she should pleased me,taking that as a matter of course,--but whether I should please her, and this was a state of things I could not suffer. |