The Ohio union. [volume] (Ashland, Ohio) 1849-1854, 1853-08-10

Girl Talk to the Editor.

""N'a "NVil mu'u'"Si UA'' hui'Vi' Nv"
| wish you were here till | could point my
hand here, and there, and yonder, and
show you all the prctties Oh, | do so
lave the gentle twilight hour, when itcomes
stealing over odr beautiful earth, soft as a
whisper Of love, and yet it wakes a sad,
October train Of thought! But such a
morning as this, away here in dewy Syl-
van Dell, ushered in by an e%scorIal of
singing birds, that are quite like " flowers
bnrn 10 blush unseen,'-dear tuneful birds
who never opened their bright, lille dew
drops of eyes in any other place,-de-
ligh'ful!
OF, it makes my full beart brim over
with gratitude 10 the Maker of this sweet,
earth 4! ,
Our poet friend. Frank, came bouncing
into our kitchen a few evenings SINCE
Has she told you about ii!-and how soon
| transformed her into a heroic country
girl? | verify believe, had she tarriyd
longer, | could have taught her how bride
he farm horses 10 water without saddle or
bride, nothing except a very unlady like
grip into the coarse heavy name. Then
she would soon have learned 10 ride a 1.-THE,
young hickory, and jerk down a leafy
grape vine, and looping it over rugged
boughS, form a substantial wing in the
free open airof the wildwoods I! IIeigho!
then to jump about in The fragrant mows,
playing "Bo.peep,' and hunting eggs!
Twenty times in a delightful ramble we
had, the dear, freed girl would exclaim,
"Mai's giOrias," and Id say, "Mat's
heaurniy, "-bciNg al the adjectives we
patronize.
Tie country never seemed l%ovelicr than
dis summer. Oh, its wild deep beauty i,
80 %SiaIess. WAY | leave that last word y
am inst starting 10 Mother P.'s. The
road there winds among our hills, wild,
loo, as a poets limiiless farcy, and made
more beautiful, by a noisy, rushing brook,
That dasbes, and splashcs, and sparkles and
takes great leaps over rocks and gnarled
ronts. Oh! tits Iir poetry, that brook ;
then there's a tiny, bright thread Of 70.
nance linked in sweetly, loo. It's named
after an old Indian who lived alone in his
little wigwam Tor many years, where the
bron,n bounds the swifiest, and lis song.
r. is lost tinkling and musical.
Ian, IS lit place but that | lay
down my book, O.. N"' anL .u""
halt. made pants on the I. " m;r
my pot, r,ncy, to dream one ~
sGld dream. undislurbeh. | often W. "ue'
If the Liiy.beIl. or the Morning cloud, or
.1s~iH Bose, or the Snow-driN, or some
dbs f-iresl Indian girls did not
,iber 0. '-'s heart. when he wa,
old Down. - TORN lighl and
yorrg, aud bis tall arrow. -ss bin
vile us a fawn's. Then | can =
when his hands had grown trembling an"
bony, lighting his pipe and smoking there
all alone, in his wigwam, while the blue
smoke all a.curI rose up from his lowly
home among the green old trees. All!
that's a p%iclule! The wigwam in The IN
broken forest, and tic snng'singlng riIl
making light music all the long days and
niphrs. for the lone, old %recluse reclining
beside it, ION the same messy bank that
the cottage girl now loves,) watching the
blue smoke ascend in wrealhs, away up,
through the wild, green trees into the ilecry
clouds.
But must hurry. Ned P. is going TO
take Dudu, (plump, swectgirl, like Byron's
Dudu,) and out on a boat ride. Naughty
Ned! know he will rock the light boat
inst to see me hide my eyes, and nestle N
the button Of il. I'm afraid ever since
the nighi Ned, and John, and were cross.
ing the creek, on old Coly, and she flung
us alt or at one flitt. Oh, my ! such
splashing, such clothes, such uproarlous
laughter, and %clappiOg Of delighted hands,
nercr was heard before ID the quiet shades
Of Sylvan Dellt
Az revoir. OUTAGE EilSi"
S, Ivan Dell, o.