The native American., 1838-04-28
From the Southern Literary Messenger.
THE SLETT STORM,
AT WASHINGTON.

AT WASHINGTON.
BIZ The .4uihor of Love at the Shriaes' and
Chances at Congress- &C.. f
AS lay in my bed this morning heard low
noise upon my windows, and extending my arm
from beneath its folding of Blankets l drew aside
the curtain, to see which of winters messengers
was summoning me to arise. Like a wild urchin
scattering shot from his fathers pouch, the deli
cate flakes of sleet tapped against the panes, and
made music upon the brittle and responding sur
face. | was fairly awake. There was no sun
light in the skies, but a dull, heavy atmosphere
fell the face of nature, and veed the distant
houses in dusky cloud. Still the spattering
against the windows continued, and answered
the summons by spring from my bed, and was
soon equipped. ,e5.
How cheerfully our hearth burns on a sleety
morning, when the servant is Industrious. Y You
descend from the regions Of Lapland, where fur
red wrappers and ermined cloaks are necessary,
into the region of delicious comfort.
The breakfast room is warm, and you meet
your rosy child, with its rich cheeks crmsoned
with health, who runs to you from her cricket by
the fire, and presses her sweet warm cheek to
yours. You take her in your arms, and both to-
gether gaze upon the whitened fields; and how
the merry heart laughs, as she sees the old COW
sliding down the hill, like mahogany .table--her
four legs stiff as cicles. She chirps and laughs
with delight when little boy catches the sliding
old quadruped by the tail, and accompanies her
on her slippery journey, until they arrive in safe
ty at the bottom of the HILL The wiry, woolly
dog has crept from his lair in old basket, where
he has slept all night, covered up in agreen baze
crumb-cloth which he has cabbaged, and he looks
around him with knowing eye as If he was con-
sidering his chance for an upset. He is droll,
Al,
his wits wonderfully developed.
The only place that he viii stand chance for
fall, will be the outside steps that descend to
the kitchen. Bob, the oster's, shoes, may have
iced their angles, as he passed in from the stable.
No sun yet-and the clock is on the figure Of
nine. Is yonder white world Of ice to stand all
day long! The skies forbid. . .et ....g
How the urn smokes again, and the aroma Of
the coffee ascends in fragrant spires and pervades
the room, as if the odor Of some Deity descend
ing from Olympus. The hot rolls melt the but
ter, as hope the sunbeam, warm and vigorous,
will ere long march over the stubborn ice, and
conquer its huge surface with smile.
The sleet hurries on apace from the near hang
ing clouds, and the very trees seem to shiver as
the ice-bolt splinters about them. How glorious
ly will he infold them, and cloak their dusky bark
with an armor as pure as the crystal ofthe spring
Two months hence, and the buds will cluster upon
those boughs, and the wild birds hide themselves
in the fragrant leaves--the gentle breath of May
will whisper to them, and the soft sun will re-
ioice amid their verdant foliage; but will they then
wear an aspect so lovely as that with which they
are now bedecked! Like ten thousand chande-
liers of diamond spars flashing every ray from the
light the limbs throw out their CLASSY tracery upon
the sky, and the wind that whistles through them,
clatters them together with soft and singular
sound. a3
The grass is prouder to-day than it has been
for long and weary time-it is stiff in its con-
cet; and should the old COW that sided down the
hill Just now, attempt to clip it, how it will pierce
her nose with its sharp and beautiful spear. The
grass is in its panopy Of silver mail, and IS ready
to tilt against anything. Now it is more beauti-
full than the lily of the valley and it lifts its head
that the wind may tread over it and hear its mel
low song. Hts Isesg rsa sasa 'ts. }g.s dE
The horses poke their bony heads out at the
stabledoor and snuff the cool air, and shake their
trembling ears as the sleet darts between them.
Armed with my cane, and wrapped in my coat,
7 stem forth to dare the whistling messengers
from the clouds. Whew How they scatter
themselves over my face and cut their horizontal
way over thetps Of my ears. place my faithful
cane carefully in the ice, else away would dart
and roll over, to the edifcatiOn Of every market
woman that might feel herself secure in woollen
straps passed under the soles of her shoes.
Progressing along with all the apparent infirmi-
ty Of age, though am but in my younger youth,
reach at last the crowning point of my toil--to
ascend that knoll on this side and descend it on
the other, is like the passage Of the Alps.
Warily my cane is placed, as if trod upon
the Hottest summit of Mont Blanc, and saw be-
meath me the deep glaciers wherein 'tis almost
death to gaze; stick the point Of my square
toed boots into the ice and Chamber up. The
steen Is won---but now for the descent. wild
how on his skates dashes past me, and away he
ooes like rail-car, down the steep; he has passed
the fence corner, and the rogue has stopped on
h;s iron heels, to watch the descent of Bonaparte.
Lord how the wind whistles around me, and
how smooth and clear looks the shining declivity
there is not the slightest shrub to break the
monotonous frigidity Of the view, nor the crate,
full firrow Of cartwheel, and down that inclined
plane 90 must Shall sit down and slide 1t
out! The laughing eyes Of the skater, peepmg
over the fence, forbds the idea. The work is
commemorative cane once more planted-the
umbrella poised above my head; for the sleet
storm is pouring upon US all in feathery glory,
and am off. II is in vain that | try the slide