And watched the shadowy moments run, Till my 4. There bubbles the shady spring below, With its bulrush brook, where the hazels grow; And watched the minnows poise and shoot, But the stranger's bucket is at the spring. 5. Oh, ye who daily cross the sill, And when you crowd the old barn eaves, 6. The barn, the trees, the brook, the birds, THOMAS BUCHANAN READ. A POOR, coarse-featured old woman lived on the line of the Baltimore and Ohio Railway, where it passed through a wild, unpeopled district in West Virginia. She was a widow, with only one daughter living with her in a log-hut, near a deep, precipitous gorge, crossed by the railway bridge. and shouldered the dry posts, head-pieces, and side-pieces. Her daughter followed with their two wooden chairs. 7. Up the steep embankment they climbed, and piled their all of household furniture upon the line, a few rods from the black, awful gap, gurgling with the roaring flood. The distant rumbling of the train came upon them, just as they had fired the well-dried combustibles. The pile blazed up into the night, throwing its red light a long way up the line. In fifteen minutes, it would begin to wane, and she could not revive it with green, wet wood. 8. The thunder of the train grew louder. It was within five miles of the fire. Would they see it in time? They might not put on the brakes soon enough. Awful thought! She tore her red woolen gown from her, in a moment, and, tying it to the end of a stick, ran up the line, waving it in both hands, while her daughter, running after, swung around her head a blazing chair-post. 9. The lives of a hundred unconscious passengers hung on the issue of the next minute. The ground trembled at the old woman's feet. The great red eye of the engine showed itself, coming round a curve. Like a huge, sharp-sighted lion coming suddenly upon a fire, it sent forth a thrilling roar, that echoed through all the wild heights and ravines around. 10. The train was at full speed; but the brakemen wrestled at their leverage with all the strength of desperation. The wheels ground along on the heated rails, slowly, and more slowly, until the engine stopped at the roaring fire. It still blazed enough to show them the beetling edge of the black abyss, into which, had it not been for the old woman's signal, the train and all its passengers would have plunged into a death and destruction too horrible to contemplate. E left the buffalo camp about eight o'clock, and had a toilsome and harassing march of two hours, over ridges of hills, covered with a ragged forest of scrub oaks, and broken by deep gullies. About ten o'clock in the morning, we came to where this line of rugged hills swept down into a valley, through which flowed the north fork of Red River. 2. A beautiful meadow, about half a mile wide, enameled with yellow autumnal flowers, stretched for two or three miles along the foot of the hills, bordered, on the opposite side, by the river, whose banks were fringed with cotton-wood trees. The meadow was finely diversified by groves and clumps of trees, so happily disposed that they seemed as if set out by the hand of art. 3. As we cast our eyes over this fresh and delightful valley, we beheld a troop of wild horses, quietly grazing on a green lawn, about a mile distant, to our right; while, to our left, at nearly the same distance, were several buffaloes; some feeding, others reposing and ruminating among the high, rich herbage, in the shade of a clump of cotton-wood trees. The whole had the appearance of a broad, beautiful tract of pasture land, on the highly ornamented estate of some gentleman farmer. 4. A council of war was now held, and it was determined to profit by the present favorable opportunity, and try our hand at the grand hunting maneuver, which is called, "Ringing the wild horse." This requires a large party of horsemen, well mounted. They extend themselves in every direction, at certain distances apart, and gradually form a ring of two or three miles in circumference, so as to surround the game. This must be done with extreme care, for the wild horse is the most readily alarmed inhabitant of the prairie, and can scent a hunter at a great distance, if to windward. 5. The ring being formed, two or three ride toward the horses, which start off in the opposite direction. Whenever they approach the bounds of the ring, however, a huntsman presents himself, and turns them from their course. In this way they are checked and driven back at every point, and kept galloping round and round this magic circle, until, being completely tired down, it easy for hunters to ride up beside them, and throw the lariat over their heads. The prime horses, of the most speed, courage, and strength, however, are apt to break through, and escape; so that, in general, it is the secondrate horses that are taken. is 6. Preparations were now made for a hunt of this kind. The pack-horses were taken into the woods, and firmly tied to trees, lest, in a rush of wild horses, they should break away. Twenty-five men were then sent, under the command of a lieutenant, to steal along the edge of the valley, within the strip of wood that skirted the hills. They were to station themselves about fifty vards apart, within the edge of the woods, and not to |