He has pictured the procession, all in holyday attire, And the laugh and look of gladness, when they see the distant spire; Then their love shall kindle newly, and the world be doubly fair, In the cool, delicious crystal of the summer morning air. Tender eyes of Manuela! what has dimmed your lustrous beam? ’Tis a tear that falls to glitter on the casket of her dream. Ah, the eye of Love must brighten, if its watches would be true, For the star is falsely mirrored in the rose’s drop of dew! But her eager eyes rekindle, and her breathless bosom stills, As she sees a horseman moving in the shadow of the hills: Now in love and fond thanksgiving they may loose their pearly tides— ’Tis the alazàn that gallops, ’tis Bernardo’s self that rides! ----- [2] In California horses are named according to their color. An _alazàn_ is a sorrel—a color generally preferred, as denoting speed and mettle. [3] The sarápè is a knit blanket of many gay colors, worn over the shoulders by an opening in the centre, through which the head is thrust. [4] Calzoneros are trowsers, generally made of blue cloth or velvet, richly embroidered, and worn over an under pair of white linen. They are slashed up the outside of each leg, for greater convenience in riding, and studded with rows of silver buttons. [5] The lariat, or riáta, as it is indifferently called in California and Mexico, is precisely the same as the lasso of South America. * * * * * THE CHASE. AN INCIDENT OF THE WAR OF 1812. BY CHARLES J. PETERSON, AUTHOR OF “CRUISING IN THE LAST WAR.” “Sail O!” cried the look-out from the mast-head. “Whereaway?” asked the officer of the deck. “On the lee-beam.” We had been dodging about the horse-latitudes for several weeks, most of the time becalmed; and, of course, without meeting a single vessel. At this announcement, therefore, a general excitement pervaded the decks; the watch above placed themselves eagerly on the look-out, while the watch below crowded up the gangway to catch a glance of the stranger if possible. In due time the character of the chase became evident. She was a heavy, fore-topsail schooner, and apparently a man-of-war. Instead of flying us, as was the case with most vessels, she stood boldly on her course, and in consequence was soon within range. Meantime, through our glasses, we could see that her decks were filled with men, who appeared to be eagerly scrutinizing us. “Show him our flag,” at last said our captain. The roll of bunting ascended to the gaff, and blowing out, disclosed our country’s ensign, the white stars sprinkling the field of azure, and the crimson stripes gleaming out against their white background.