could see vast clouds of black smoke rising between them and the river; and far into the night the volumed flame continued to ascend, illuminating with its fierce light the city streets, the line of steamers moored along the wharves, and the calm water of the bay, spread far in the distance. Larkin went out to get a nearer view of the picturesque and animated scene. The city firemen were striving with unavailing efforts to quench the devouring flame. Bands of wildlooking negroes were rushing into the smoke and dragging out the smouldering, half-burned bales from the blazing mass. Instead of the usual vulgar crowd attendant on fires elsewhere, here were groups of well-dressed gentlemen, quietly looking on at the piteous spectacle. Here were elegant carriages, driven by liveried footmen, more than one containing high-spirited dames and bright-eyed daughters of the planters, come to sympathize with husbands and fathers. Thus it was that in a few hours a million of dollars evaporated in smoke. When next morning's sun arose upon the scene there were a few crumbling lines of brick wall, a few smouldering heaps of ashes, a few half-burned bales, bedraggled and defiled, with two or three negroes asleep upon each; some tag ends of ropes and scraps of bagging scattered here and there-all the visible remains THE LIGHT-HOUSE.-LAKE PONTCHARTRAIN. of that vast wealth which on yesterday sustain- | Dan Butin swears there's something wrong ed the golden hopes of hundreds. Who can tell what fairy castles vanished with those rolling clouds? what milk-pails were overthrown? what broad lands remained unpaid for till another season? what dresses deferred? The lord of a thousand, with corrugated brow, begins to cipher on the back of his last businessletter, then pays a visit to his banker. Willey Harbucket wipes a tear or so from the end of his nose, takes a stiff horn, "withouten sugar," and the first boat for the upper country. Far in the interior David Pipkins hears the fatal news, and curses the day he intrusted his "crap" to the keeping of his unlucky neighbor. somewhar, and threatens to sue somebody. Even the humble hearth-stone of the negro is reached by the great sorrow, and tears trickle down cheeks of ebony. The big bale went with the rest. Boy Joe, and Bob, and Elijah, and Nancy look at each other with mournful countenances, and the voice of the banjo is mute. But long before Time, the consoler, smooths the care-drawn puckers from the master's brow, the banjo reawakened sounds merrily from the cabin, and Elijah quotes this comfortable text from the Good Book (Elijah quotes from memory), "Blessed am dem what 'spects nuffin, for they ain't a gwine to be disapp'inted!" To see the domes, steeples, and chimney-tops peering over the tufts of grass and shrubbery that decked the open country, it seemed as if "a city had been sowed and was just coming up." They entered the city by the French quarter, which is built up of low wooden houses, generally without much architectural pretension, but, as is usual in the Southern country, quite surrounded with shrubbery and ornamental trees. On the day after the fire our tourists took | Holland. passage on the steamer Cuba for New Orleans, and that evening, for the first time, saw the sun quench his burning disc in the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Although the season was mid-winter, the air was soft and balmy as if a May breeze were rippling the surface of the sea. The deep, blue dome of night glittered with stars, and anon the full moon rose, lending her crowning splendor to a scene such as is seldom witnessed out of Southern latitudes. It is hard that folks will get sleepy in spite of stars and moonlight, but so it was. Our tourists left all this magnificence and went early to bed. The voyage was calm and prosperous, and their sleep sound and refreshing. When they awoke their vessel was cleaving the placid waters of Lake Pontchartrain, whose broad, mirror-like surface was rosy with the reflected blushes of the approaching dawn; and half an hour after they went ashore at Lake Landing, between the old and new light-houses. Here they found that peculiarly French institution-a cup of good coffee-and a train of cars to convey them to New Orleans, about eight miles distant. Their route lay through extensive swamps, shaded with cypress and magnolia trees, with a thick undergrowth of cane and ground palm. The first appearance of the city reminds one of what Hood says of At the railway dépôt Jim Bug was much disgusted at hearing the negro porters and hack drivers speaking French. "The idea," said he, "of them black rascals undertakin' to talk larned, like ladies and gent'men." But on being assured that most of them were totally ignorant of English, his indignation gave place to astonishment. "Why, Mass Robert, I thought all black people talked like we does at home. I thought they larned to talk from white people, and not outen of books like these does." "Well, Jim, we've not time to explain that to you now. The coach is waiting to convey us to the St. Louis." Once installed within the massive walls of their hotel, our travelers indulged in the pleasant consciousness that their wanderings were at an end, at least for a season. They could hear around them the hum of a great city, the commercial, social, and dramatic centre of the Southwest. Near at hand, but as yet unseen LITTLE JERRY, THE MILLER. A BALLAD. ENEATH the hill you may see the mill, by them, the great river was rolling the river wasting wood and crumbling stone; whose very name is synonymous with sublimity; yet there was no occasion for haste, and before withdrawing the curtain from such a scene, one likes to sit down quietly and in imagination con over the little part that he or she expects to play in the forthcoming drama. Tiny was reveling in dreams of dolls and ribbons, and the fancy of Madame B. was, doubtless, busy with French silks and laces. The Squire, I think, from his puckered brows, was doing a sum in arithmetic. A large gilded 20 which filled his mind's eye stood for dollars; a 30 placed under it signified the days of the month. Multiplied, the result was 600-double the same to cover extras. The Squire ejaculated the English title of his Satanic Majesty, and wound up with a locomotive whistle. At the moment his eye fell upon Leonore, who was sitting apart, apparently lost in reverie. His face was suffused with kindly feeling, and approaching her, he took her hand affectionately, when they had a long and animated conversation in an under tone. Up stairs Annette was seated on the trunk which Jim Bug had carried to her room. Jim had just concluded some important revelations with these words, "True as Gospel, young mistress--just as I tell you. I see him do dat-I always makes a mark of these things." "Well, never mind, Jim, it's not a matter of any consequence-not in the least. It was very natural and very kind in him. go 'way, don't tell me any thing more." But now Bob Larkin was engaged, we believe, in writing a letter to a friend, some extracts from which we will give, as they will throw a glimmering of light upon some subjects of which as yet we know but little : "DEAR P-: I write from the St. Louis Hotel, in great haste, to advise you of our safe arrival, etc. "Our progress since we left East Tennessee has been too rapid to have been very satisfactory. Some wag has characterized Southern scenery by a line and a pine,' and there is both wit and truth in the idea at first view; yet the hasty glimpses I have had of the country have excited my fancy, and I am anxious to see more. . . . . "Leonore is a strange girl, and she grows more and more mysterious every day. She and Uncle Broadacre have long confidential conversations, which often, on her part, end in tears. Then I have observed she has grown sadder and more abstracted as we approached this place -New Orleans. She no longer takes interest in art, and often, during my most elaborate discourses, she starts and acknowledges she has not heard a word of what I have been saying. It occurred to me she might be in love, and I attempted some gallant speeches, which at first were received with a cold smile; and on being repeated brought me such an unanswerable rebuke that I am convinced she is not in love with me. "I do not believe I could ever fancy her; that is, that I could ever experience any sentiment beyond pure admiration. The human mind is so constituted as to dislike perfection. We may admire, but can not love that which is faultless. The Greek ideal-what infernal nonsense I am writing. Good-by. BOB LARKIN." The wheel is dripping and clattering still, Year after year, early and late, Alike in summer and winter weather, He pecked the stones and calked the gate, And mill and miller grew old together. "Little Jerry!"-'twas all the same- 'Twas "Little Jerry, come grind my rye;" From matron bold and maiden sweet. 'Twas "Little Jerry" on every tongue, For Jerry was little when he was young, And thus the simple truth was told; And Jerry was little when he was old. That Jerry made up in being strong; Always doing his very best, Who uttered well his standing jest "When will you grind my corn, I say?" "Nay," quoth Jerry, "you needn't scold; Just leave your grist for half a day, And never fear but you'll be tolled!" How Jerry lived is known to fame, And then 'twas whispered mournfully They laid him in his earthy bed His miller's coat his only shroud"Dust to dust" the parson said, And all the people wept aloud. For he had shunned the deadly sin, To weigh upon his parting soul. Beneath the hill there stands the mill, Of wasting wood and crumbling stone; The wheel is dripping and clattering still, But Jerry, the miller, is dead and gone. AN OLD FILIBUSTER. SIEUR REVENAU DE LUSSAN was a native of Paris, and when a mere boy only seven years of age, gave evidence of his roving disposition by often stealing away from home and making long excursions in the city. This adventurous spirit led him, as soon as he was capable of bearing arms, to attach himself to an officer in the army just before the siege of Condé. He served through the campaign, and then became a cadet in a marine regiment. His captain managing to drain him of all the cash with which his father supplied him, the latter, at a heavy expense, procured his discharge. He again enlisted, and fought gallantly at the siege of Guislane. The camp, the drum, the bagle, and the perils of the conflict had a charm for him that no exposure or hardship could break. The war being over he returned to Paris; but the dull routine of daily life wearied him, and he resolved to see something of the world outside of his native France. The marvelous stories of the New World, which were then in every body's mouth, enchained his roving fancy, and, despite his father's persuasions and his mother's tears, he embarked in March, 1679, for St. Domingo. The sea, with its storms and billows, enchanted him. St. Domingo opened a new world to his vision; but his fresh-born delight soon received a check in the tyranny and cruelty of a Frenchman to whom he engaged himself as a laborer. He passed three years in little better than servitude; and when his bondage finally became intolerable he laid his case before the Governor, who ordered his release. Hearing nothing from his parents, and being heavily in debt, he began to cast about for an opening suitable to a man of his desperate fortunes. After turning various projects in his mind he finally resolved to join a gang of freebooters. The next thing was to select a commander; for he knew that the service of a vigorous young man, bred to arms, would be gladly accepted by the leader of any expedition. After mature deliberation he offered himself to Captain de Graff, who bore a roving commission from the Count of Toulouse, the Lord High Admiral of France, and was accepted. With this commander he set sail on the 22d of November, 1684, and began to cruise for Spanish vessels in the waters surrounding the West India Islands. Although the men composing such expeditions were called at the time buccaneers, freebooters, etc., yet many of the vessels in which they sailed were, in fact, privateers of the present day. Lussan, it is seen, sailed under a regular commission, and was no more a freebooter than the American privateers in the war of 1812. From the 22d of November, 1684, to the 1st of March, 1685, they kept cruising in the Caribbean Sea, meeting with various adventures, yet taking few prizes of any value. They, however, by chance, encountered two other vessels and four boats manned by buccaneers, which proved a great accession to their strength. Of their little fleet, the two largest vessels-one carrying fifty guns and the other forty guns were commanded by Captains Landresson and de Graff. In the latter part of February the vessel in which Lussan sailed came to anchor at Golden |