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We prepared for resting that night, and I can a-sure the reader I was
in need of it. We had laid down by our fire, and about ten o'clock
there came a most terrible earthquake, which shook the earth so, that
we were rocked about like we had been in a cradle. We were very much
alarmed; for though we were accustomed to feel earthquakes, we were
now right in the region which had been torn to pieces by them in 1812,
and we thought it might take a notion and swallow us up, like the big
fish did Jonah.

In the morning we packed up and moved to the harricane, where we made
another camp, and turned out that evening and killed a very large
bear, which made _eight_ we had now killed in this hunt.

The next morning we entered the harricane again, and in little or no
time my dogs were in full cry. We pursued them, and soon came to a
thick cane-brake in which they had stopp'd their bear. We got up close
to him, as the cane was so thick that we couldn't see more than a few
feet. Here I made my friend hold the cane a little open with his gun
till I shot the bear, which was a mighty large one. I killed him dead
in his tracks. We got him out and butchered him, and in a little time
started another and killed him, which now made ten we had killed and
we know'd we couldn't pack any more home, as we had only five horses
along; therefore we returned to the camp and salted up all our meat,
to be ready for a start homeward next morning.

The morning came and we packed our horses with the meat, and had as
much as they could possibly carry, and sure enough cut out for home.
It was about thirty miles, and we reached home the second day. I
. . . had killed in all, up to that time, fifty-eight bears, during
the fall and winter.

As soon as the time came for them to quit their houses and come out
again in the spring, I took a notion to hunt a little more, and in
about one month I had killed forty-seven more, which made one hundred
and five bears I had killed in less than one year from that
time. . . .

Motto.--Be sure you are right--then go ahead.

RICHARD HENRY WILDE.

~1789=1847.~

RICHARD HENRY WILDE was a native of Ireland but was brought to this
country when a child of nine. His father died in 1802 and the widowed
mother took up her residence in Augusta, Georgia. He studied law and
became a successful practitioner. He was Attorney-General of the
State, and served also in the Legislature and in Congress. He spent
the years 1834-40 in Europe studying chiefly Italian literature; in
his researches he discovered some old documents relating to Dante and
a portrait of him painted by Giotto on a wall which had become covered
over with whitewash. On his return to America he settled in New
Orleans and became professor of Law in the University of Louisiana. He
died there of yellow fever.

He began an epic poem, suggested by the life and adventures of his
brother, James Wilde, in the Seminole war. But it was never finished:
all that remains of it now is the fine lyric, "My Life is Like the
Summer Rose." This song was translated by Anthony Barclay into Greek
and announced to be a newly discovered ode of Alcaeus. This claim was
soon disproved by the scholars, and to Mr. Wilde was given his due
meed of poetic authorship. It appears in Stedman's "Library of
American Literature," as dedicated to Mrs. White-Beatty, daughter of
Gen. John Adair, of Ky., the beautiful "Florida White" of "Casa
Bianca," Florida.--See Life, Labors, and Grave of Wilde, by C. C.
Jones, Jr.

WORKS.

 Conjectures and Researches concerning the Love, Madness, and
 Imprisonment of Tasso, (containing translations of poems.)
 Petrarch.
 Poems, original and translated.
 Life of Dante, [unfinished.]
 Hesperia.

MY LIFE IS LIKE THE SUMMER ROSE.

 My life is like the summer rose,
 That opens to the morning sky,
 And ere the shades of evening close,
 Is scattered on the ground to die;
 Yet on that rose's humble bed
 The sweetest dews of night are shed
 As though she wept such waste to see;
 But none shall weep a tear for me!

 My life is like the autumn leaf
 Which trembles in the moon's pale ray,
 Its hold is frail, its date is brief,
 Restless, and soon to pass away;
 Yet when that leaf shall fall and fade,
 The parent tree will mourn its shade,
 The wind bewail the leafless tree;
 But none shall breathe a sigh for me!

 My life is like the prints which feet
 Have left on Tampa's desert strand,
 Soon as the rising tide shall beat
 Their trace will vanish from the sand;
 Yet still as grieving to efface
 All vestige of the human race,
 On that lone shore loud moans the sea;
 But none, alas! shall mourn for me!

AUGUSTUS BALDWIN LONGSTREET.

~1790=1870.~

AUGUSTUS BALDWIN LONGSTREET was born in Augusta, Georgia. He became
first a lawyer and was elected to the State Legislature in 1821 and
judge of the Superior Court in 1822. Later he became a clergyman in
the Methodist Church and president of Emory College, Georgia, being
afterwards successively president of Centenary College, Louisiana, of
the University of Mississippi, and of South Carolina College.

His best-known book, "Georgia Scenes," seems in his later days to have
troubled his conscience and he tried to suppress it entirely. But
sketches so amusing and so true to life would not be suppressed. See
Sketch in Miss Rutherford's American Authors, (Atlanta).

WORKS.

 Essays and Articles in various magazines.
 Letters to Clergymen of the Northern Methodist Church.
 Letters from Georgia to Massachusetts.
 Georgia Scenes, Characters, Incidents, in First Half Century of
 the Republic, by a Native Georgian.
 Master William Mitten.

NED BRACE AT CHURCH.

(_From Georgia Scenes, first edition, 1835._[9])

 [Ned Brace was a real personage, Judge Edmund Bacon,
 born in Virginia, 1776, lived in Edgefield, South
 Carolina, and died there in 1826. He was of very social,
 hospitable nature, a practical joker, and, as Dr. Maxcy
 called him, "a perfect Garrick" in his conversation. He
 was a lawyer of great ability, and when very young and a
 student at Augusta he was appointed to deliver an
 address of welcome to Washington on his Southern tour.
 If the following anecdotes are not true, they might well
 have been, as Judge Longstreet says.]

This being the Sabbath, at the usual hour Ned went to Church, and
selected for his morning service one of those Churches in which the
pews are free, and in which the hymn is given out and sung by the
congregation, a half recitative.

Ned entered the Church, in as fast a walk as he could possibly assume;
proceeded about half down the aisle, and popped himself down in his
seat as quick as if he had been shot. The more thoughtless of the
congregation began to titter, and the graver peeped up slily, but
solemnly at him.

The pastor rose, and, before giving out the hymn, observed that
_singing_ was a part of the service, in which he thought the whole
congregation ought to join. Thus saying, he gave out the first lines
of the hymn. As soon as the tune was raised, Ned s

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