Every day, and almost every hour, did De Vere attempt to see Florence, in vain; at last he wrote.

TO MISS RIVERS.

My beloved Florence,

And did all the world visit her, Florence Bless me, if I had known I would have nev To bring a sensible man to folly is a diffiRivers cannot, must not, shall not?' said Deer told you.' 'Good gracious, why I declare cult and unwise task. Few women who atVere. • Nay, Florence, unbend that look of she's quite angry,' &c. &c.—and followed tempt it succeed, or if succeeding, still pride. I say again shall not! Are you not Florence, leaving Wellesley in no enviable fewer know when to stop in their dangerous my betrothed wife?' Is not your honor mine, mood. He bit his lip, and walked the room triumph. your happiness my care? Am not I the murmuring to himself- Absurd! positive! rightful guardian of your spotless name, the obstinate,' and such other superlatives as friend, the protector named as your safe- served to vent his spleen. Soon, however, guard by a dying father? Shaine! shame on it turned upon himself Blockhead that I you, Miss Rivers! Look on the sable gar- was! Did I think I was hailing the masthead. ments which trap your person with a mockery or giving the order to board, that I must be Mine I still call you, although the strange of wo! remember the sad, the recent cause so loud and rough? Surely she cannot inconsistency of your present conduct, leads which has alone delayed our marriage, and nean to quarrel with me! Why did I not me to fear you have only deceived yourself then insult your father's memory, if you coax or reason her into giving up the accur-and me, in admitting that you loved me. dare ?' sed ball, instead of blustering like a land lub- Let, I beseech you, this unnatural estrangeFrancis Wellesley had commanded two ber, as I am? Hark! she is coming! Dear ment cease. Far be it from me to debar you hundred men by a word-by a motion of his Florence!' any pleasure, give me only a husband's right hand led them to risk life and death; through But no dear Florence appeared; only a to protect you in the giddy whirlpool of fashscenes of danger, horror and blood, he had servant to remove the unfortunate cause of ion, and then mix freely with that society never mistaken or quailed. But he knew not dispute the contested gala dress. De Vere which your youth and beauty is so well fitted how to rule a woman, and that woman the sent a message entreating to see her. Miss to adorn. Believe me, love, I know that the proud, impassioned Florence Rivers. To Rivers was engaged. He wrote a few lines lady whom you wish to visit, is no proper be thus reproved, shanied and commanded-earnestly desiring the same-it was returned companion for the daughter of my friendand before Mrs. Montague, a dependant! To unopened. Miss Rivers had gone out. for the wife of an honorable man. Dismiss be ruled thus imperatively, and by a lover! Thoroughly ruffled, the philosopher in love this foolish resentment from your mind, and The blood rushed wanton through her frame, took his leave, heartily cursing foreign Prin- think, my Florence, how much easier it is to and her limbs shook with emotion; then cesses and bals costumes, women's caprices wound than heal an affectionate heart; how rising with extreme pride, she saidand his own roughness. In fact, from the facile to yield to temper; how difficult to retime that Florence had been so nobly res- turn to reason. I wait for you in the saloon, cued by De Vere, her intense gratitude, kept there let me again see the Florence Rivers I alive still more anxiously by his severe suffer-know and love. FRANCIS WEllesley. In a few minutes, an answer was returned, written in pencil below his name.

Lord Wellesley De Vere will find I can at least dare to reject his impertinent and officious counsel, and cast from me with scorn the rude and unmanly counsellor. Iings, had given him little to complain of thank you, Sir, for showing me the bane, from the variations of her temper; then the since I bless Heaven, the antidote is still in rapidly succeeding death of her father had my power. Lord Wellesley will understand subdued her feelings and manners to a quithat Miss Rivers would be alone!' etude by no means natural to them. In the De Vere struggled with himself and at- first torrent of her grief, she had refused to tempted to take her hand. fulfil her engagements with De Vere until a Forgive me, my dear Florence, if I have||year had elapsed, and he, respecting her sortoo rudely spoken. I am, you know, a plain blunt sailor, and little used to dress my words for ladies ears. My blood too warmly resented the idea of my Florence, my sweet, pure, unsullied lily, mingling in the reeking pollution of the haunts of fashion. Nay, nearer and more jealous resentment spurus the idea, that these sables, which alone have kept me from my coveted joy, should be put off to grace a demirep's assembly. Come, Jay aside these hateful trappings, and with them our only disagreement! Think of the matter of my words, and let their manner be forgotten!

Florence gazed full and coldly on his face as she made answer. Both are to me so indifferent, that I am quite willing to forget them. The dress I will assuredly lay aside, as certainly to resume it this day week for the Princess Pulaski's ball!'

As she spoke she slowly retired, bending to the last on him a look of mingled pride and defiance.

Mrs. Montague opened a volley of common phrases, such as, 'Dear me I'm very sorry.'

ANSWER.

TO MISS RIVERS.

The intended wife of Wellesley De Vere cannot frequent the drawing room of the Princess Pulaski ; let Florence Rivers pause, ere she takes a step that never can be recalled!

As the person Lord De Vere wishes to see, must be either a child, a fool or a slave, I know of none such who answers to the name of FLORENCE RIVERS. The clouds began to deepen on the open row, had unwillingly acquiesced in the decis-brow of the sailor, and a stern aspect of ion, but fearing the effect of such absorbing thought, to supercede the light vexation, grief on her delicate frame, he had drawn her which had hitherto dwelt there. He did not to New-York, and provided a suitable estab-write again in haste, but reflected long before lishment and chaperon to reside with. But he resumed the pen. half the stipulated probation had past, and the young heart of Florence had risen with a rebound, which, joined to her natural pride and coquetry, now threatened to disturb the hitherto uniform tenor of their loves. In truth, the belle of Florida was oftentimes in- Now had Florence arrived at that painful clined to demur at the coolness and reasona- pass where to yield was mortifying, to probleness of her philosophic lover; no jealous ceed fatal. A thousand times did her better doubts of trembling fears appeared to disturb feelings prompt her to throw the dress on the his sober certainty of waking bliss; no rap fire and rush down into the arms of De Vere, tures or ecstacies elevated the woman he loved and, unhappily, as often did her pride withinto an angel before marriage, that he might hold her purpose. As irresolute and unhaphave a reason for wishing her in Heaven soon py she paced the room, her eye suddenly after. There was a quiet command, an ac-fell on a miniature of her father; to her exciknowledged sort of superiority about Welles-ed imagination, the placid eye looked reley, that piqued her pride. And now that he had absolutely offended her, she resolved to make him more humble and more grateful for his unparalleled happiness in possessing her affections.

proachfully upon her; she burst into tears; threw open the door, and in a moment was in the saloon below. He was not there! He had left her to reflect before she replied. Fatal mistake! to a being who ever acted

from impulse! She sank listless and half attendance there. My dress is that of a self, he advanced to her calm, but cold, with angry upon a sofa, Sultana, Mrs. Montague's an Obi woman,' a countenance composed, but very pale. Little does he care for my answer! He Still the wily villain appeared unconvinced, I have waited on you for the last time, does not love me! He is too cold, too cal-and affected to lament that her will would in- Miss Rivers, to resign the documents of a culating to love! Perhaps he respects his evitably be controlled. Burning with indig- useless guardianship, and return the sempromise to my father and wishes to be hon-nation, piqued by Trevanion's implied re-blance of what, only through mistake, I orably free of his engagement! I will not proach, carried away by a headlong reac-loved. These features are fair, but 'twas not baulk him! He shall see that I have pride, tion of feeling, she caught up a pen and wrote. their rare and regal beauty won my love, I have stoicism as well as he! I will go to the believed that in them shone the light of truth, ball, I will not stay away for the fear of losing purity and tenderness; I was deceived! an indifferent lover. He shall see that I too their sole attraction gone, take back the can be stern, cold and philosophic.' worthless lineaments; me they never more can pain or charm!'

TO LORD DE VERE.

me

What the intended wife of Francis, Lord De Vere, may, or may not do, concerns me nothing. If he desires to see this evening, at the Princess Pulaski's I will be found. His lordship's obedient servant, FLORENCE RIVERS.

the

Alas! when did ever passion reason rightly? Florence forgot for how long a time He extended the letter of her father, apthe cold stoic had besought her, and now pointing him her guardian, and a miniature only remembered that he threatened. In The fatal note was sealed-was sent of herself, with an unembarrassed and somethis ill-omened mood, a visitor entered, well die was thrown-the fiat had gone forth. what scornful air. Alas! for Florence Rivcalculated to cast oil on the troubled waters. With this insane act departed all the ener-ers! had he but been silent; had he evinced This was Everard Trevanion, a fashionable gy of the wayward girl; in silence, she re- the smallest sorrow, she would have fallen and most unprincipled man, who had long ceived all the compliments and raptures of at his feet and besought his pardon-but thus loved Florence, and been repeatedly discard- Trevanion, and long after he had gone, she stoical-thus contemptuous! the demon of ed by her father, from a conviction that no sat still as stone, bewildered and afraid to pride rose paramount in her heart-she drew roue could make his darling daughter happy. think on what she had done. The hours his miniature, still warm, from its loved nestIll as he could reconcile to himself, this re- wore on, each seemed to strike upon the ling place, and haughtily presented it to him, fusal, still less could be forgive the calm bare nerves, as they sounded the approach-saying- Lord Wellesley De Vere has consuperiority of De Vere, and in several instan- ing time. No letter from De Vere-no ferred on me the last obligation in his power. ces, where the profligate levity of his man-nessage. Still she hoped- He will not, I thank him for returning the pledge of a mismers, had been rebuked by the con- cannot give me up! He will give way, will taken child, who believing gratitude to be temptuous rebuff of the proud Englishman, consent that I shall go, and then I will relin- love, was willing to sacrifice herself, however a quarrel would have ensued had not coward-quish it also. Relinquish it! Gracious repugnantly, to its trammels.' ice, as usual, accompanied villainy. But Heaven! What is there to give up? Is this these affronts, though unresented, rankled pleasure? Is this triumph ?' deeply, and the study of a safe revenge on De Vere, occupied much of Trevanion's thoughts.

pos

You mistake me, Mr. Trevanion; pray let me go,' said Florence, infinitely annoyed at this attack.

Enough! enough! Miss Rivers-it becomes not even the memory of attachment to load it with taunt or invective-it has past forever! Yet if, as the friend of her father,' the voice of De Vere became tremulous, and his manner less tranquil, Miss Rivers would allow me to acquaint her of the great impropriety, if not worse, of the company to which she goes this evening.'

Be your advice brief then, as it is unask

The time for dressing arrived, and in agony unutterable, Florence beheld herself arrayed in the gorgeous robes of a Sultana. Fairest flower of Florida, do I find your Up to the last moment, it is probable, she leaves bedewed with tears? How? is it would not have gone, but just as she was sible one so lovely, so loved, can know sor-dressed, her servant announced that Lord row but by name ?' De Vere was below. Not the exile, when the threshhold of home is kissed by his feet; not the reprieved criminal, when heed,' said Florence, extending her hand to has felt the fatal rope; not the released the bell, or I shall hardly hear it! Let Pray tell me first whether you are to be captive, when Heaven's breath bathes his Mrs. Montague and Mr. Trevanion know at the Princess' to night? Vain will prove brow-confest such deep, such soul felt rap-that I am ready,' she said to the servant, who And then once more preall the festal lamps if your eyes are absent.ture, as bounded in the heart of Florence attended the bell. What? will not your husband lover, your with this welcome news. She prest her senting the portrait, which he had not taken; Sultan Master permit it? God! Miss Riv-hands on her breast to still its inmate's her swelling attitude, malign smile and ers, can you—you so adorable, so superior throbs, and with her fears banishing all her regal-robes, presented the second picture. to every other woman, stoop to an arrogance regret, she schooled her brow and carriage, which none other would bear?' to a more than common pride.

If your strange speech relates to Lord Wellesley, be assured, his opinion or his will.

Take it, Lord De Vere, and when you next offer it, tell but the lady, how much its The victory is won! the triumph mine! features belie the character of its reality, and How could I distrust the power of that beau-she will spurn it from her as now does Florty, before which so many have knelt as wil-ence Rivers!' A sardonic smile, curled the lip of Ever-ling slaves?' Be quiet bounding heart! ard Trevanion-he bowed with a polite incredulity. The eyes of Florence flashed with impatience.

concerns me not.'

Look scornful glistening eyes! Never must
De Vere imagine how deeply, how devotedly

I love him.'

She then received the finishing touches to her gorgeous dress, and taking up the mask, she slowly descended to the saloon, where De Vere awaited her.

He started visibly at her appearance, and, for a moment, emotion shook his manly frame to tremor; but soon mastering him

It was over! she had renounced him, and was mingling in the motley crowd, supported by strong excitement to a flow of wild spir

its. Soon came the scarce covert double entendre, the gross flattery, the rude gaze, which made her blush equally for herself and the company she was in. Close to her, Trevanion remained, assuming all the permitted airs of a favored lover, and even these she allowed, as a defence from the bolder presumptions of strangers.

Oh! take me hence! This is no place for me! He said he knew it! Have I not one friend left to rescue me from this breathing pestilence?'

'Am I not your friend, your lover? Take my arm, cast this mantle round youyour carriage waits, this way Miss Rivers.'

6

You are safe! your carriage waits you! Fear nothing, slight has been the magic that brought me here-gold revealed the damning plot, and the memory of friendship saved you! Come.'

that might have recalled her from the grave, || privations and perils of a tempestuous voyage,
distinctly, she heard to say-
to touch upon a soil on which nature
had poured forth from her horn of abundance
the choicest of her gifts. Older sailors than
ourselves had spoken of the generous hospi-
tality of the Spanish colonists, and there
were historical association connected with
this favored land well calculated to render a
visit agreeable. Who, that has been nurtur-
ed in the lap of freedom, would not long to
look upon the only race of native people on
the Western Continent who had never been
subdued, and who to this day, tread the soil
of their forefathers, unvanquished and in-
vincible.'

And Mrs. Montague-where is she?' The weeping Mrs. Montague received Already in the carriage. Come, the Florence in the carriage, her deliverer sprang crowd thickens, lean on me-so-draw up up outside; at her own door she was lifted fellows! Do you not see your lady? In-out, insensible to all but one kiss pressed on in dear Miss Rivers!' her pallid brow, and the murmured wordsAnd now-happiness and home a long farewell!

now and forever alone!'

Agitated to fainting, she was in the carriage and fast rolling on, before she found Mrs. Montague was not with her, but so earnest, so respectful were the attentions of Tre- Six months after, this paragraph was copThe Araucanians, who inhabit the southvanion, that she merely exclaimed, Home!ied from the Florence papersern portion of this delightful country, like home! oh! let me be alone! Alone-ay, Married on the sixteenth, in the great the Saxons of the European continent, are Cathedral of San Marco, Francis Wellesley the only native-race who have successfully Wrapt in mortal misery she heeded not Lord De Vere, to Salonie, youngest daugh-repelled every invader, and who, happier the time, the distance, until, suddenly, sheter of the Comte del Etruvia. The happy than the Saxon, still rejoice in their unbrifelt the wheels rolling on the smooth roads. couple set off for the Palazzo of the British dled freedom. Neither Diego Almagro, with She caught the check. Ambassador, a near relation of the bride-his brutal treachery, nor Valverde, with his unsparing cruelty, could ever subdue or inAnd shortly after there was another an-timidate a race of freemen, whose liberties nouncement in the gazettes of New Orleans-still survive the frequent convulsions by Died, in the eighteenth year of her age, which they have been environed and agitated. Florence, only daughter of the late Washing-The flame of freedom among this gallant ton Rivers, of Trianon, Florida.' people, like the volcanos of their native [Concluded in our next.] mountains, seems to burn on for ever unextinguished. But I proposed to speak of the

6

They have mistaken-they are going groom.' wrong.'

No, it is through Hudson Street they are going, you know it is not paved! (It was not then.) I ordered them to do so, to save you from the jolting of the pave.'

She sunk back satisfied, and roused not again from her lethargy, until the carriage

stopped at a retired house, on the Harlem TRAVELING SKETCHES. Condor Hunt on the plains of Chili.

road, there the strong lights flaring in, show-
ed her that it was not her own carriage or
servants. She would have screamed, but The
clasping her in his arms, in a moment the vil-
lain bore her in, and throwing to the doors,
stood with folded arms and sardonic smile,
contemplating his intended victim. At once
all her pride and energy returned. She
sprang up exclaiming Insolent ! What
may this outrage mean? Is it thus you woo
a heart once refused, and now scorning you

From the Southern Literary Messenger.

FROM THE LOG OF A SAILOR.

Every one has heard of the Condor, or great vulture of the Andes, rivaling in natuCondor Hunt on the Plains ral history the fabled feats of the Roc of of Chili. Sinbad in the Eastern tales. Even the genius of Humboldt has failed to strip this In either division of the American conti- giant bird of its time-honored renown, and nent, nature seems to have carried on her op-his envious effort to reduce the Chilian Conerations upon a gigantic scale, and with boundless magnificence. Chateaubriand, reclining by his watch fire on the banks of the Niagara, where the thunders of the cataract were only interrupted by the startling yell of Fairest lady, no! In truth I woo no the Iroquois, could yet feel, in the midst of bride, yet do I love you, charming Florence, this tumult, the amazing silence and solitude and never more shall prudent father or of the North American forest. And the haughty lover come between us! Yet will hardy mariner, whose bark has escaped the we have no marriage trammels, gentle Flor-perils of the Southern sea, and is wafted ence, for

more than ever?'

dor to the level of the Lammergeyer of the Alps, is a signal failure. Although he has divested this mountain bird of all its fictitious attributes, and stripped a goodly portion of romantic narrative of its wildest imagery; yet the Condor still floats in the solitude of the higher heavens, the monarch of the feathered race. The favorite abiding place of this formidable bird is along a chain of mountains in our Southern. Continent, whose northwardly along the western coast of Chili, summits, lifted far above the clouds, are looks with no less admiration upon the fer-robed in snows which a torid sun may kiss tile plains gradually receding into the swell of the Andes, which literally lifts its smoking craters and towering eminences above the clouds, and upon its snow-capped and sunny summits, scarcely feels the undulations of the storms which gather and burst around its waist.

With the stars and stripes of the Union floating from the mast-head of our frigate, we were running down that part of the coast

but never melt. Above all animal life, and beyond the limit even of mountain vegitation, these birds delight to dwell, inhaling an air too highly attenuated to be endured unless by creatures peculiarly adapted to it. From the crown of these immense elevations, they slowly and lazily unfold their sweeping pinions on the element, and wheeling in wide and ascending circles, they soar upward into the dark blue vault of heaven, until their great bulk diminishes to the merest speck, or

One moment's rude struggle past, the next a strong arın sent Trevanion reeling to the ground, and a clasp-oh! how unlike of Chili where the waving line of the Andes the brutal force of his, supported her sink-rounds within a short distance of the Pacific, is entirely lost to the aching sight of the ing frame. Her senses reeled, yet a voice and we were unusually solicitous, after the observer.

In these pure fields of ether, unvisited wildly from their sockets, foaming at the of his remaining strength, and rushed into even by the thunder cloud, regions which mouth, and bellowing with pain. With a the numerous herd as if he sought to lose may be regarded as his own exclusive do- wonderful unity of purpose, he alone was himself in the living mass, or to divert the main, the Condor delights to sail; and with closely pursued by the whole flock of birds, attention to his pursuers. But the mark and piercing glance surveys the surface of the who disregarding the other animals, seemed to the scent of blood were upon him; and on earth, towards which he never stoops h.s follow, as with a single will, this stricken one, the track of blood the Condor is untiring and wing unless at the call of hunger. Surely who was cautiously avoided on all sides by relentless. Ox and bird once again were this power to waft and to sustain himself in the his terrified companions. Like all gregari-lost to view, beneath the curtain of dust upon loftiest regions in the air-his ability to en- ous birds, the Condor, appeared to have a the trembling plain. But in a few moments, dure, uninjured, the exceeding cold atten-leader, who, rushing at their head into the pursued by every bird, he broke from the dant upon such remoteness from the earth,midst of the herd, pounced with his greedy midst of the herd, made a few desperate and to breath with ease in an atmosphere of beak upon this devoted animal, the fattest plunges towards the water, and reeling onsuch extreme rarity-together with the keen-and sleekest of the multitude, and tore a ward fell at length; bleeding and exhausted ness of sight that, from such vast heights can piece of flesh from his side. Attracted by minutely scan the objects below, as well as the the sight or the scent of blood: the whole formidable powers of this bird, when the herds flock like a brood of harpies, joined in the are scattered before him, were sufficiently mad pursuit. Swift of foot as the fleetest admirable to entitle the Condor to our at-racer, they kept close to his side, ever and tention, and to give us promise of goodlyanon striking with unerring sagacity at his sport in the approaching Condor or Lasso bunt.

eyes.

to the earth, on the very margin of the sea! In an instant he was hurried up from among his pursuers; his flesh torn off yet living, by hungry beaks, and his smoking entrails trailed along the ground. Along the horizon, in the distance, might still be discerned the last of the herd flying on the wings of the wind from the fate of their companion.

Tell me not of the gladiators of martial A large landed proprietor, a descendant of Rome, or of the tauridors of Modern Seville: some of the early Spanish patentees, to whom they were pastimes for children compared Our host gave the signal, and we hurried we had been indebted on many occasions for with the thrilling excitement of the Condor to the spot to rescue the carcass, with a view abundant supplies of fruits and provisions, as Hunt on the plains of Chili. Away they to visit upon the Condor vengeance for the well as for numberless civilities, conveyed fled-and away we hurried in the chase. A mischief he had done, and the blood he had to us at length the welcome tidings that the thousand horseman were wheeling rapidly in spilled. At our near approach, they took reCondor, numerous as the sands of the shore, || pursuit-a thousand cattle, terrified and fran-luctantly and lazily to wing, and wheeling in had stooped from his sublime domain to the tic, swept over the plain-and a thousand oblique circles, they were soon seen floating base of the mountain, and that the hunt Condors mingled in the crowd-until, by the would commence in the morning. The sun rapid movement, ox and Condors were again was scarcely up in the heavens when we hidden from the view in clouds of dust. A sprang from our boats, a party of twenty-loud shout soon afterwards attracted us to five or thirty, to the beach. The plain before us ran back climbing gently to the base of the hills, about one mile distant. The hunt was up and the fields in the distance were dotted with scampering herds of cattle, and the groups of horseman mingled in one dusty melee, which lent wings to our speed, as vaulting into our deep Spanish saddles, prepared by our worthy host, we sprang onward to the field of blood. Impelled by the cravings of resistless appetite, the Condor, regardless of danger, pressed forward to as sail the numerous herds of the plain; while the watchful owners, having sounded the alarm, the frequent population was out, as well to protect their cattle, as to hunt the mountain bird-the Chilian's manly pastime. From the midst of a canopy of dust, spread widely over the plain, there came forth sounds of noisy conflict, resembling the heavy current of a foughten field,' and mountain and hill-side were shaken by the shouts of the hunters, the tramp of scampering horseman, and the bellowing of enraged and affrighted cattle. The Condor rapid as the Cassowary of the desert, pursued in silence his destined prey. As we rapidly approached, we perceived one of the oxen bursting from the western extremity of the cloud of dust, lashing his bleeding side with his tail, his blood shotten eyes starting

over the crest of the mountains, dark specks, in the firmanent. The hunters, prepared with stakes about seven feet in length, commenced driving them in the ground, a few the scene of conflict. Bursting forth once inches apart, in a circular form, around the again from the cloud of dust into which he carcass of the ox, leaving about one fourth had vainly rushed, the devoted animal plunged of the circle open. As we retired from the madly forward, yet more closely followed by spot the birds at once descended upon the the whole field of Vultures. Black with dust, plain, and entering the enclosure renewed streaming with blood from a hundred wounds their feast and again took wing. In the inflicted by the remorseless beaks of his pur-course of a few hours the huntsmen returned suers, and covered with foam, he still fled and throwing into the pen an additional suponward, but with diminished speed. As if looking for assistance from man in his extremity, he rushed through the midst of our cavalcade; and the Condor, regardless of our vicinity, hung upon his side or followed in his footprints. From the altered movement of the animal after he passed us, with his head on high, plunging and blundering over the uneven ground, it was evident that his course was no longer directed by sight. His eyes were gone, they had been torn from their bleeding sockets!

Wearied and panting, his tongue lolls from his mouth, and every thrusty beak is upon it. Still onward he flies, hopeful of escape-and onward presses the Condor secure of his prey. The animal now appeared to be dashing for the water, but his declining speed and unequal step rendered it doubtful whether he could reach it. He seemed suddenly to despair of doing so, for wheeling around, with one last and seemingly desperate effort, he seemed to gather himself up in the fulness

ply of food, drove down their stakes in the open space, until there were scarcely room left for the admission of the Condor.

The birds, more numerous than ever, returned to their filthy carnival. Meanwhile, having partaken of the hospitality of our worthy host, and refreshed our horses; we once more took the field for vengeance on our gorged and lazy foe. As the wings of these birds have a sweep of seventeen feet, they are not readily unfurled, so that when the Condor has alighted on the plain, he is only enabled to raise by running over a space of fifteen or twenty rods, and gradually gathering wind to lift himself on high. While in the midst of this ravenous feast, a few of the hunters stole warily to the opening of the enclosure, and closed it up; and thus, unable to soar aloft from a spot so crowded and narrow, the Condors were captives. But a Chilian scorns thus to slay his foe. Armed with a lasso, each of the natives sits upon his horse, eagerly waiting the turning loose a

half dozen birds from the gate of the enclosure.

They are out-and away scamper the Condors, fleet as the winds of heaven-and away, in rapid pursuit, wheels the Chilian. swinging around his head the noose of the unerring lasso, which falling upon the neck of the bird, detains him captive. The line is played out, and away sweeps the powerful bird, and away the practiced horseman after him. Springing upward the Condor now unfolds his wings, and flutters in such width of circle as the rope will permit-and now shoots perpendicular upwards-and now again falls headlong, and is trailed exhausted on the ground.

We re

The lengthened shadows of evening had fallen around us, before the sport was up. and the last of the Condors slain. turned to our ship, well pleased with our entertainment, and determined to avail our selves of the earliest opportunity to renew the Condor Hunt on the plains of Chili.

Swinging lazily into our hammocks, we sunk into a sound slumber, for which the exercises of the day had well prepared usbut not too sound for refreshing visitations from friends far away

O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea!

He used to wear an old grey coat,

All toggled up before.

'Well, mister, master Grimes was a smash

printer, beginning to humor the persevering mistakes of the Long Islander.

Well, perhaps you'll answer as well as er among the small words. Why, sir, he'd any other Job. The reason why I called, make no bones at all of spelling words of was, that seeing the name on the sign I three synnables-such as jacknife, hoss-thought may be as how Mr. Job Printing mough be some relation to two or three Jobs block, luminary and sich like.'

How did he spell jack-knife for instance in Skunk's Misery-such as Job Stutterall. Do you think he's any way's related ?' asked the printer.

How exclaimed the man from Skunk's

Misery; Why, how does any fool spell it?
He spelt it in this way
Why, I'll tell you.
j-a-k, jak, n-i-f-e, nife jak-nife. But, as I
was saying, my next master was Squire
Gibbs.-He was a great deal tougher in the
way of knowledge, than either of the tothers.
There was'nt nothin' that he did'nt know.
He could fill up a deed containin' more than
a thousand acres of land, in less that half a
day; and makin' writs and sich like trans-
formations, there was'nt bis equal to be
found within twenty miles of Skunk's Misery.
And, do you know in the way of spellin' and
But what was
readin' he was a whole team.
it I called in for? Oh! to see Mr. Job
Printing.-Is he within or ain't he?'

You mistake the word on the sign,' said the printer. It's Job, and not Job printing' That's another stretcher-begging your pardon. Can't I spell don't you think, after going to so many masters? Job; if that don't spell Job, then there's no truth in the Old Testiment."

'So it does, and spell job too.'

I shouldn't wonder if he was. But take care of your frock sleeve, or you'll make pi of my work.'

I have upset some of your little bits of iron. But do you call that pie.'

That printer's pi.'

Well, the printers may eat it, for all I had some thought of takin' dinner me. with Mr. Job Printing in consequence, of bringing him news of the rest of his relations in Skunk's Misery. But if that's what he dines on, I wish him a good digestionthat's all. I shall take my dinner some where else. Good by to you.'-[Exite]— N. Y. Trans.

Accumulation of Property.

I SUPPOSE the progress and decline of family fortunes have been essentially the same in all parts of the world, if we except those countries in which the laws of entail and primogeniture preserve the eldest son from the reverses which otherwise would inevitably ensue.

A young man comes into the city from his Now, Mister, if you think to rub me respectable home of industry in the country.— down with soft soap, you have got a hard sub- He comes with energy of character, and inject to deal with, I can tell you. You'll wear dustrious habits, and inured to economy. the skin off your hands afor you've done. He has nothing to depend upon but his own Besides to go for to deny the Old Testi-resources of diligence and fidelity. ment-you've no more religion than a hoss.' After a few years he commenced business I haven't denied the Old Testament, I for himself. His only capital is a good only say that Job and job are spelt in the name, and business talents. These guide same way? him to wealth-and in a few years he is found one of the most opulent and influential merchants in the city. And the country boy

'Well, we wont spute any more about that; though 'twixt you and me and that ́ere black-faced looking feller that is standia' || who comes into Washington street, as he at that 'ere desk and pickin' up them ere little bits of iron, like a hen pickin' up corn, I believe you lie like Sam Hill. But, Mr. Job Printing-can I see him or not? I don't s'pose there is any use in 'axin' you, for I understand folks are in the habit of not bein' at home in the city, when they are to home, and when other folks seen 'em to home too. What a set of shallow liars they must be !

did, in search of a fortune, now looks up to him with reference as to one of the nobles of the land.

This is the history of many of the first merchants of Boston and of New-York. These poor country boys, with the virtues which are nurtured in an economical home, come into our cities and take the lead in law, in politics, in merchandize. There are exceptions, but this is the general rule in all the principal cities of this country and of England. What is the subsequent history?

That's not the case in the present instance, I assure you.-What you call Job The sons and the daughters of this now Printing, is merely the name of my profession. I am a job printer at your service; rich man, find a very different cradle from that which their father found in his parental and if you want any thing in my line—' Oh! you're Mr. Job Printing, then, are home. Profusion and splendor are all around them. Their father trod a painted No; I'm merely his cousin,' said the floor, or perhaps eat his bread and milk,

you.'