WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA. 



wren and the thrush will join with thee in thy matin 

 hymn to thy Creator, to thank Him for thy night's 

 rest 



At noon the Genius will lead thee to the troely, one 

 leaf of which will defend thee from both snn and rain. 

 And if, in the cool of the evening, thou hast been 

 tempted to stray too far from thy place of abode, and 

 art deprived of light to write down the information 

 thou hast collected, the fire-fly, which thou 

 Hie fire fly. ^ ^ gee j n almost every bush around thee, 

 will be thy candle. Hold it over thy pocket-book, in 

 any position which thou knowest will not hurt it, and 

 it will afford thee ample light. And when thou hast 

 done with it, put it kindly back again on the next 

 branch to thee. It will want no other reward for its 

 services. 



When in thy hammock, should the thought of thy 

 little crosses and disappointments, in thy ups and 

 downs through life, break in upon thee, and throw 

 thee into a pensive mood, the owl will bear 

 thee company. She will tell thee that hard 

 has been her fate too; and at intervals, "Whip-poor- 

 Will," and " Willy come go," will take up the tale of 

 sorrow. Ovid has told thee how the owl once boasted 

 the human form, and lost it for a very small offence ; 

 and were the poet alive 'now, he would inform thee 

 that " Whip-poor- WilT' and " Willy come go " are the 

 shades of those poor African and Indian slaves who 

 died worn out and broken-hearted. They wail and cry 

 " Whip-poor- Will/' " Willy come go," all night long ; 

 and often, when the moon shines, you see them sitting 

 on the green turf, near the houses of those whose 

 ancestors tore them from the bosom of their helpless 



