whether I should return to Morgantown, or attempt to force my way through the wrecks of the tempest. My business, however, being of an urgent nature, I ventured into the path of the storm, and after encountering innumerable difficulties, succeeded in crossing it. I was obliged to lead my horse by the bridle to enable him to leap over the fallen trees, while I scrambled over or under them in the best way I could-at times so hemmed in by the broken tops and tangled branches, as almost to become desperate. On arriving at my house, I gave an account of what I had seen, when, to my surprise, I was told there had been very little wind in the neighborhood, although in the streets and gardens many branches and twigs had fallen in a manner which excited great surprise. * The valley is yet a desolate place, overgrown with briers and bushes, thickly entangled amid the tops and trunks of the fallen trees, and is the resort of ravenous animals, to which they betake themselves, when pursued by man, or after they have committed their depredations on the farms of the surrounding district. I have crossed the path of the storm at a distance of a hundred miles from the spot where I witnessed its fury, and again four hundred miles farther off, in the State of Ohio. Lastly, I observed traces of its ravages on the summits of the mountains connected with the Great Pine Forest of Pennsylvania, three hundred miles beyond the plaee last mentioned. In all these different parts it appeared to me not to have exceeded a quarter of a mile in breadth. J. J. AUDU BON. THE RAINBOW. A rainbow and the sun breaking through cloud. Wherein a trustful promise may be found, That quite your little worlds shall not be drown'd. Such comfort speaks our Emblem unto those Long use or time the storm away will turn, GEORGE WITHER, 1558-1667. XXV. Medley. K THE STORY OF AARON THE BEGGAR. FROM THE SWEDISH. ANGAS lieth in Sioni; 'tis a homestead that scarce has an equal; Plenteous in wood and in corn-fields, with rich grassy meadows This won my father, in wedding the farmer's fair daughter; I spent the best years of my life, and dwelt like a king amid plenty. And maids in the house, too; and children, the joy of their mother And again the rye failed, for again was the early ear frosted. I had men and maid servants no longer. I could not pay land-dues. So passed the time; and as long as the milch-kine were spared us, Thus came and went Christmas; and still we lived on, although famished. At length, when returning one morning with bark on my shoulder, I was met on the threshold by strangers-and thus one accosts me : Friend, either pay that thou owest, or all that thou hast will be seized 66 on." Amazed, I made answer: "Good sir, yet awhile have thou patience, And I will pay all. Heaven helping! We now are sustained Alone on bark bread!" Again they turned into the house, no answer vouchsafing, Then hastily stripped from the walls our poor store of household utensils, Seized all that remained of our clothing, and carried them off to their sledge. Weeping, my wife lay, my excellent wife, on her straw bed, Watching in silence the men, and all the while soothing the baby, Which lay on her bosom new-born, and kept up a wailing of sorrow. I followed them out as they bore thence the last of our chattels, As stern in my mood as the pine when his axe at its roots lays the wood man. They cast up the worth of their plunder, and said that it reached not The half of the sum that they needed. Again spake the bailiff: "Friend," said he, this doth not suffice, but thou hast much kine in the cow-shed." Thus saying, with no more ado, they went on to the straw-yard, Still forcing them on by compulsion, unwilling to leave their old homestead. In this way six cows were secured; the seventh, a starveling, Dead rather than living, they left me. Thus all that I had was dis trained on. I spake not; in dreary despondence re-crossing my threshold, Thus spake she; a darkness came over my eyesight, and sorrowing |