So we go on, until our united store of game numbered fifteen. As we never hunt but half a day, we sought for a well-known spring not far off, into the mimic basin of which we dipped our canteens of varnished leather and quenched our thirst with repeated draughts. If you would enjoy the fabled nectar, you have but to mix the parched tongue of the active hunter and the sweet sylvan spring which gushes from the heart of the ground. The compound is infallible. sweet must. Soon after, we were homeward bound, singing gaily along the forestroad. In half an hour, we were performing our ablutions and habiting ourselves in clean linen and less romantic apparel. By the lapse of another half-hour, we were seated at a genial board I wot of, testing the delicacy of a part of our game, flavoring our viands occasionally with Start not, Washingtonian! It was the pure juice of the grape, of the vintage of the Westate. It was no compound of deleterious chemicals, whose sole properties are to make the tongue smart and the head dizzy. We occupied an hour in the dainty repast, high-seasoned with those delectable interchanges of thought which will never pass among more than two. Then, cheered and unfatigued, we hallooed to Carlo and dashed off on horseback for the "Young Bachelor's Hall." In the evening, a rare company of single gentlemen were suffering R to bewitch them with her saucy songs. I actually believed she improvised the ballad, which she sung with her liquid eyes and curling lips turned towards me. I only remember her last lines: "Pray let me, you're so cross and old, Just flirt a little-do: For, on my word, I only wish To make a fool of you." I felt that to my very corns. Yours truly, P. S. C declares that my last postscript was a humbug: that I really wanted the letter printed: that I only asked you not to publish it, as a blind to make my impudent remarks about her seem very private and confidential. Hem, Dux, don't you wish that you were married? ANN MARIA HYDE, was a native of Norwich, Connecticut, and born on the 1st of March, 1792. Her family were of high respectability, and her early years nurtured amid all that tenderness and wealth could bestow. Indeed, she was reared with much of that idolatry of love which is wont to centre in an only child, as her sister, being sixteen years old at her birth, and removed, ere long, by marriage, to a home of her own, the little remaining one became the object of the most ardent parental solicitude. And well did she repay it; not only by brilliant mental developments, but by the unfolding of the sweetest affection. Her gentleness of nature, breathing on all whom she knew, extended to animals, insects, and even reptiles, whom she could not endure to see troubled or hurt. She derived entertainment from books, at an early age, when most children are occupied with the modifications of the alphabet, and though often interested in sports and pastimes, found pleasure in solitary thought and serious reflection. She delighted in the historical and poetical portions of the Scriptures, and without direction from others, chose them for her frequent perusal. Nothing more provoking to ourselves could have happened, than to be obliged, after delaying our number several weeks for a portrait of our distinguished country woman, Mrs. SIGOURNEY, to be obliged to appear before our readers without it. We had engaged the services of a celebrated engraver at considerable expense, but the portrait, when finished, was such as to dissatisfy the friends of Mrs. Sigourney, and we felt bound to exclude it. Of course, the whole matter is only postponed, but our disappointment is deep, and not to be forgotten. The biography, we have reason to believe, will be the fullest and most reliable which has yet appeared of Mrs. Sigourney. When her tiny hands were unable to sustain the weight of a large Bible, and her form too infantile to allow her to sit and read at a table, without the care of others, she would spend whole days, stretched on the carpet, her little bright face bent over its. pages in quiet attention, or sometimes, suddenly reading aloud passages, whose sublimity struck her ear, or affected her heart. It was also perceived that she treasured them in her memory and correctly applied them. Being once sick, when a very young child, she said, "I think I should be willing to die now, if it was not for my dear friends. But the Bible says, 'Whoso loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.'' Fondness for knowledge early led her to love school, and her instructors. She distinguished herself, while there, by a scrupulous regard to their wishes, whether expressed or implied, by the clearness and beauty of her recitations, the classical correctness of her written thoughts, and a propriety of demeanor which no evil example could warp, or overcome. At twelve, she was well grounded in the solid branches of a good education, though the bent of her genius led to rhetorical, philosophical and historical studies, which she continued to pursue, throughout her life. At the age of fourteen, she retired from school, and became the companion of her parents. Her love of nature now more fully unfolded itself, and the city of her birth, and the neighborhood of her residence, diversified as they were, by rural and romantic scenery, became more and more dear. Her father, whose fine mind had been disciplined by the study and practice of jurisprudence, was gratified to perceive that his idol-daughter continued her daily intercourse with the best authors, and her habits of profound thought, and frequent composition, while her mother was equally cheered by her affectionate participation in whatever promoted domestic welfare and happiness. In her shrinking delicacy of feeling, and favorite themes of contemplation, it was easy to discern the poetic temperament. In this, as in all her other attainments, there was a remarkable precocity. Her chosen subjects were unambitious, and such as the affections dictated. One of the first which met the eye of her friends, was written at about the age of nine years, and descriptive of her infant nephew. So harmonious were its numbers, that one of her relatives, without her knowledge, sent it to the |