The Southern Literary Messenger, Volume I., 1834-35Various
General
The Southern Literary Messenger, Volume I., 1834-35
Various
American literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals
The next day upon my inquiring for him, I found he had left town early
that morning, saying that it was uncertain when he should return. This
I regretted extremely; for although disappointed in my first attempt,
I was not without hopes I might still succeed in bringing him back to
the paths of virtue and of honor, from which he had so unfortunately
strayed. I determined at all events to remain where I was until I had
again seen him, and make another appeal to his friendship and his
pride. Days and weeks passed however, and he came not. It was now the
latter part of the month of May; the weather was delightful. I got
tired of the solitude of my chamber, and walked out to enjoy the
balminess of the air and the freshness of nature, as yet unscorched by
the ardent beams of the summer sun. I took the road that led to
Drayton's, and when I reached his gate, paused, as I had many a time
before, to admire a noble oak that formed one of the gate posts. This
splendid tree was at its base full five feet through, and its trunk
shot up a height of forty feet before it gave out a branch. Thence its
boughs spread out to an immense distance, forming a canopy over the
road, beyond the opposite side of which they extended, and mingled
with those of the trees growing there. It looked like a patriarch of
the primeval forest, and seemed destined to stand while all around
might decay. I sauntered along a mile or two, until I reached a
favorite and secluded spot, well known to me when I was a boy, and
which remained unchanged, while all else was changed or changing.
There I seated myself on a moss covered rock, under the shade of a
thick leaved birch, and while the bright waters rippled at my feet,
passed in review before my mind some of the scenes of a busy and
adventurous life. About an hour had elapsed in this pleasing
melancholy of reverie, when I became conscious that a change had taken
place in the weather. The refreshing breeze had died away, and the air
become close and sultry, with that heavy suffocating feeling I had
observed in high southern latitudes, as the invariable precursor of
the coming hurricane. I made what haste I could to reach my home,
which was full three miles distant, by the shortest path I could
choose. I reached the upper part of Drayton's enclosure, where {115}
there was an open field on either side, and paused as well from
fatigue, as a desire to ascertain whether I could probably outstrip
the approaching storm, or should be compelled much against my
inclination to seek for shelter at Drayton's abode.
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