Piney Woods planter and Amite union literary reflector. [volume] (Liberty, Miss.) 1838-1838, 1838-03-03
CAPTAIN THOMPSON.
BY N. 7. WILLS.

| was unfortunate enough, one brigh:
morning in my senior year, to receive an
expressive note from my tutor, which rem
dered Journey of some hundred and fifty
miles, quite necessary. was in the coach
in less than an hour with a travelling cap
pulled over a very long face, partly to a
void recognition by my classmates as we
whirled by the colleges, and partly with
an indifntc feeling that a pretty woman
no sat in the opposite corner of the
/. ach would observe a tear that was CO.
quoting very capriciousiy with my eye
lids. The rumbling echo of the wheels
from the bread front of East Rock, reused
me from a very bitter fit of reflection, and
rccollecting that there were now two
miles between me and certain official gen
tlemeriJ lrqajsaso raised my SAP and took long
breath and look out of the window
The lady on the back seat had child
on her lap. We three were the only
passengers.
It is surprising how otis all in your
ove'' whether beautiful objects seem beau
tiful in this world | do not think there
is a swceter gem of scenery in New-Eng-
land than the spot upon which my eye fell
at-that moment--the little hamlet of
Whitneyville, at the foot of East Rock. /
had rambled all over its wild neighbor-
hood, and threaded for hundreds Of truant
DAYS its deep passcs-I knew, and loved
as a romantic collenger aciu love, every
striking tree and sheltered moss-knoil
from It's base 10 its summit had stood
on the romantic bridge many a moonlight
hour thinking of you, dear -- (ehemD
and stargazing in the black mirror OF the
tarn below-and now, as | hoped to be
recalled, / thought it the most exquisitely
dismal spot ever looked upon-the trees
ugly and distorted, the fine old traprock,'
1.-THE Professors epithets were as good as
an apotheosis to it) desolated and naked,
and the pretty buildings below (the only
factory that ever adorned stream) abso-
iutely insulting with their peaceful pic
turesqusness.
"What desolate place!" said l. in
soliloquizing tone as the coach rolled out
from the covered bridge "a new one, by
the way, that was not half as pretty as
the old one) and toiled slowly up the steep
hill beyond.
"Sir" said the lady, She did know
how a sudden start for home in the middle
NJ III UCLI, UIiOVVe UihO .iAVA,si $1,000
81 should have called Dian bag.
II mean, madam --, beg pardon,
and then went into long rho
domontade to explain away my apparent
want of taste, and the lady told me her
sons name was John, and that he was
named after his father, who was Captain
Thompson, of the brig Dolly, that had just
arrived in Boston, after a three years voy-
age, &c. &c. ending in a request
that would assist her with my knowledge
of localities, when we arrived at the end
ofour journey.
In ten miles, | was on very sociable
terms with Mrs. Thompson. In ten more
by dint of gingerbread and good humor,
Master John was persuaded into my lap,
and in ten more-but travellers have
reputation for long bow, and shall not
he believed. The day was divine, and the
season was June, and if it had not been
for 81, occasional sight Of the mailbag un-
denny feet which presumed contained a
4, simple explanation of my journey, | could
have contrived to forget the imminent pc"
ril in which | stood of loosing my gradu-
ate's sheepskin and my fathers blessing.
The coach, however, rolled on, and would
have rolled on just as it did, probably, II
had been ten times as miserable, know
nothing more provoking than the indtier- /
ence of such vehicles to ones feelings and
by and by, what with now and then avery s
sweet smile from Mrs. Thompson, and a {
isastrous discontinue Of my sham shirt !