University of Virginia Library

4. POSTSCRIPT.

The Clennings have six fine farms in sight
of Arthur Clenning, who lives in the midst of
them, and is called “the king of the Clennings.”
Augusta is twelve years old, and as beautiful as
her mother, which is saying a great deal. Her
father has in his eye a fine modest lad of sixteen,
who talks and acts already like a sage, and
blushes at his own notoriety; and singular as it
may seem, Augusta has found out, that he is a
fine fellow. All the excuse that can be made
for her is, that on the plains of Illinois nature
works at the root, and the head and the heart
develope early.

There is another circumstance that must not
be forgotten. There is a young stout Pottawattomie
war chief with an Indian name of twenty
syllables, that my tongue cannot exactly catch,
(but the translation of the name is “Hurricane,”)
who wears a looking-glass over his nose, has
large ear jewels, and nice hedge-hog quill moccasins,
and a hundred tinklers about his ancles,
and each cheek rouged high with vermilion.
This son of the forest has been lately seen much

about their house, and has had, they discover,
tete a tetes with Rescue. The dandy red skin
subdued her heart at first sight.

Poor Rescue knew not the pestilent nature of
the mischief with which she was visited. Mrs.
Clenning was prodigiously amused at hearing
her describe the singular sensation inspired in
her tender bosom at the sight of our gorgeous
red skin.

“Hurricane” has explained himself to Mr.
Clenning in form, and it is to be a conditional
match, that is to say, if he will leave the red
skins, and come and fix in a cabin on the
grounds of Mr. Clenning. The heart of Rescue
is not doomed to despair, and this wedding
will unite the islands of the South Sea, with the
plains of the Illinois.