Singularly musical voices were heard at intervals, singing snatches of songs, of a style in which the servants of the South especially delight; and not unfrequently, as the full chorus was shouted by a number, their still more peculiar laugh was heard above it all.

Mr.Barbour had recently returned from a pleasure tour in our Northern States, had been absent for two months, and felt that he had not in as long a time witnessed such a scene of real enjoyment.

He thought it would have softened the heart of the sternest hater of Southern institutions to have been a spectator here; it might possibly have inclined him to think the sun of his Creator's beneficence shines over every part of our favored land.
"Take a seat, my dear sir," Mr.Weston said, "in our sweetbrier house, as Alice calls it; the evening would lose half its beauty to us, if we were within." "Alice is always right," said Mr.Barbour, "in every thing she says and does, and so I will occupy this arm-chair that I know she placed here for me.

Dear me! what a glorious evening! Those distant peaks of the Blue Ridge look bluer than I ever saw them before." "Ah! you are glad to tread Virginia soil once more, that is evident enough," said Mr.Weston.

"There is no danger of your getting tired of your native state again." "Who says I was ever tired of her?
I challenge you to prove your insinuation.