Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1846-12-02

lshallfbe worth an arrow. s. Thep,Afrom the
wood shall return In itriumph with my
Hunter boy !; We shall bring our spoils to
the Fair Hair !; we shall repair her lodge
and sbeautify her home.' ,ea3 e-s a
p saying, he led the white youth to the
Ecaya Of glittering spair and with eagle glad
ltlsss} he few to the embrace Of his wife anc
Oh pleasant now the cabin grows n
which they dwell, and pleasant is thai
valley of the wilderness. Fearless now the
hunter ranges the woods, where once the
red man rushed forth. Buried is the knife
and tomahawk, once whetted for him and
where the Shrek Of widows walled, is heard
the dance Of maids-is walked the songs OF
lovers, The fowery robe of the hills is
not stained with blood, and the war-whoop
is sleeping upon that Indian shore.
The following letter from Mr.. Burritt,
the learned Blacksmith, so called-now in
England, contains matter for ref ection:--
An Hour with nature and the nailerS.
TUESDAY, July 2l. After quiet, cosy
breakfast, served up on little round table
for myself alone, sat down to test the
practicability of the plan had formed at
home for my peregrinationsin this country,
viz: to write until 1, P. M, then take my
staff and travel on, eight or ten miles, to an
other convenient stopping place for the
night AS much depended upon the sue
cess Of the experiment, | was determined
to carry the point against the predictions Of
my friends. So at it went con amore.-
The house was as quiet as if profound
Sabbath were resting upon it, and the win.
dows of my airy chamber looked through
the foliage of grave elms down upon a
green valley. | got on swimmingly; and
after a frugal dinner at the little round Ia
BILE, | buckled on my knapsack with a feel
ing of self graduation in view of the litera-
ry part Of. my days work. Having paid
my bill and given the landlady a copy Of
my corn meal receipts, | resumed my walk
towards Worcester.
The summit Of the first hill ascended
opened to the view splendid ampitheatre,
embosoming the large village of Brooms.
grove. AS this was the most extensive
and varigated landscape | had yet seen in
England, I stopped few moments to no.
tice the features that distinguished it from
American landscapes of the same physical
contour. They may, perhaps, be summed
up in these characteristics. In the first
place, lands rent from $l2 to 1925 per acre
for their sheer capacity Of production, must
necessarily be kept in high state of cult
walton. Of course, no lean, dry pasture
or boggy morass, or bald sand hill breaks
the vista of universal fertility. Then the
trees are all planted from the oak Of mon
strous girth, to the smallest hawthorn in
the garden hedge; and either from this Cir
cumstance, or the fertility of the soil, their
foliage seems TO rival in luxuriance the
rank vegetation of annual plants. The
meadow grasses are of thicker and finer
growth than in America. Heards-grass
and clover are not so common. The at
mosphere is more humid, and there is a
sprightly vivid greedness and velvet soft
ness about a newly shorn meadow, which
strikes an American at the view of sum-
mer landscape in this country. But the
most distinguished and interesting feature
of all is the evergreen hedge.
| was suddenly diverted from the con-
temptation of this magnificent scenery by
fall of heavy rain drops, as a prelude Of
an impending shower. Seeing gate open,
and hearing familiar clicking behind a
hedge, | stepped through into a little black
smiths shop, about as large as an Ameri-
can smokehouse for curing bacon. The
first object that my eye rested upon, was
full grown man, nine years of age, and
nearly three feet high, perched upon a
stone of half that height, to raise his breast
to level with his fathers anvil, at which
he was at work, with all the vigor Of his lit
tie short arms, making nails Isay aful-
gro,cn man, for fear he can never grow
any larger, physically or mentally. AS |
put my hand on his shoulder in familiar
way to make myself at home with him,
and to remove the timidity with which my
sudden appearance seemed to inspire him,
by pleasant word Of greeting, his flesh
felt case-hardened into all the induration Of
toiling manhood, and as unsusceptible of
growth as his anvil block. Fixed manhood
had set in upon him in the greenness of
his youth, and there he was by his fathers
side, stinted premature man, with his
childhood cut off: with no space to grow in
between the cradle and the anvil block,
chased as soon as he could stand on his
legs, from the hearth stone to the forge
stone, by iron necessity, that would not lot
him stop long enough to pick up letter Of
the English alphabet on the way.
o, Lord John Russell think oft! Of
this Englishman's son, placed by his moth
or, scarce weaned. on high, cold stone,
barefooted. before the anvil; there to hard
on, scar and blister his young hands by