sed any compromise. After much discussion and altercation, however, the chief made a proposition;--Colonel N. had a favorite servant, a large and fine looking mulatto man. The Indians have a peculiar fondness for slaves; Snip agreed to give up the captive girl, for Patrick. 12. Here was a dilemma;-Colonel N. was a most humane and benevolent man; he would have made any sacrifice to have regained the unhappy maid; but he valued his slave as a fellow creature, and loved him as a brother. He would use no force-Patrick hated the Indians as cordially as did Major Pasqui, and he heard the proposition with indescribable horror. 13. His master took him aside and advised him to take the place of the girl, offering him his freedom, and all the money which had been collected for her ransom; assuring him at the same time, that in a few weeks he would certainly find an opportunity of escaping. It was all in vain; the possession of the world would not have induced Patrick to change masters. 14. Finding every attempt fruitless, and not having sufficient numbers to attempt force, the travellers were obliged to abandon the idea of liberating the captive, and leave the unfortunate maid to her fate. They resumed their ourney, and after much suffering and hair-breadth escapes from the scouting parties of different tribes, they arrived. at Fort Pitt, having for the last twenty days of their wandering, been deprived of salt and bread. 15. Thirteen years afterwards, the treaty of Greenville was held with the Indians, by General Wayne. On this occasion, the prisoners who had been taken during the previous inroads of the savages, were brought in to be given up. Major Kirkpatrick, was then present, as chief of tho Commissiary department. 16. Among the captives, he recognized the girl whom he had left on the Scioto, in 1783. She was the wife of her captor, Captain Snip, and the mother of five little savages, the eldest of whom appeared in the crowd, armed with his bow and arrows. She was perfectly reconciled to her fate, and refused to quit her husband, to return to civilized society and her friends. LESSON XXX. Hunting the Buffalo. 1. THE whole of the Western country, when first discov ered, was covered with herds of buffalo. The great forests and rich pastures of Kentucky especially, abounded in these animals. 2. They are valued by the hunter for their flesh and their skins. The latter, when properly dressed with the hair on, furnish excellent beds and warm clothing. The meat resembles beef, and the tongue is considered as a great delicacy. 3. The Indians pursue the buffalo, mounted upon horses well trained to the sport. When they fall in with a herd of these animals, grazing upon the prairie, they ride in among them, and select the animals which they intend to attack. 4. The whole herd betake themselves rapidly to flight, but the Indians pursue those which they have selected, and soon overtake them, in consequence of the superior swiftness of their horses, and riding up on either side of them, pierce them with arrows. 5. Whenever they perceive that their arrows have taken effect, and inflicted a mortal wound, they leave the wounded animal, and ride away in pursuit of other victims. 6. After they have thus killed as many as they can, they return and collect the slain animals; carefully taking off the skin, and then cutting up the meat for use. 7. Their horses are well trained, and perfectly managea ble, and seem to understand this sport as well as their riders 8. This mode of hunting the buffalo is practised upon the wide prairies beyond the Mississippi, where thousands of buffalo may be seen in a single herd. LESSON XXXI. Connecticut.-HUGH PETERS. I LOV'D to sit at night upon thy grass, Dark shade; and then to hear some clear-voiced lass In tones so soft and sad they made one weep, From some still porch, breathe out a song to me, Like this, a sweet but plaintive melody: "There's music in the gush of streams -- When winter leaves the land:- There's music in the voice of birds, They say there's music in the air; I used to think I heard it there At midnight in CONNECTICUT, The rushing wind which curls the sea, And so has that which whistles through The key-hole of my door: And that which wreathes the hills with snow, Has music in its moan Those hills of thine CONNECTICUT, 'My beautiful, my own.' There's music in the deep low tones Which steals us from our worldliness, There's music in the bosom of I visit thee, CONNECTICUT, There's music aye in every thing, The ocean's murmurings are hymns, In thy fair land, CONNECTICUT, 'My beautiful, my own." " LESSON XXXII. Western Pulpit Eloquence.-Rufus HODGES. 1. THE meeting was opened by a young man, who, I was informed, had been recently initiated into the ministry. He was one of those imprudent young men, who have contributed so much to bring the devout and fervent worship of the best churches into derision. He exhausted himself and sat down. The audience was manifestly relieved. 2. He was followed by an old man, dressed in linsey "oolsey. He was tall and thin; his head was whitened by |