the schoolchildren by the corporation. Paying the admission fee of six cents, we indulged in an hour’s relaxation from the outside Babel among the juvenile community, flying kites—shaped as owls, bats, butterflies &c.—and balloons, and strolling leisurely through the flowery walks, whilst we occasionally refreshed ourselves with strawberries and cream, peaches, ices, and other tempting luxuries. Some "Odds and Ends"—invitations of the "Antiques and Horribles" on a youthful scale—were sporting about, performing curious antics. I very imprudently caught hold of one of the nondescripts to ascertain what sort of stuff he was made of, when a stinging rap over the knuckles from one of his companions induced me to release him instantly. Returning to the Common, we beheld the ascent of a celebrated aeronaut in the "Young America,"—a balloon of very large dimensions, and strained our eyes watching it gradually diminishing, till at length it disappeared in the depths of the blue ether. At six o’clock the immense concourse of people sensibly decreased as the greater part of them wended their way homewards to partake of some refreshments and a little repose preparatory to witnessing the great event of the day, and the close of the entertainments,—namely the grand pyrotechnic display on the Common in the evening. As twilight approached, streams of people set in towards the Common, and my cousin and I, of course, went with the tide. Rockets were despatched roaring in the sky, and then bursting in their fiery flight into innumerable brilliant stars, returned slowly and sadly to the earth. It was a moonless night; and at nine o’clock and Limerian darkness covered the face of the Common, so that even the ignition of a lucifer match shed a light far and near, which greatly favored the display. The grand exhibition opened with a flight of a hundred rockets, followed by blue lights, Roman candles, showers of golden rain, bee-hives, pin-wheels, &c., of all shapes and the most brilliant hues. Then appeared various devices appropriate to the occasion, such as a crown, scintillating with jewels, mutating to a cap of liberty; George III., in his imperial robes changing to an equestrian statue of Washington; and a figure of Britannia, at whose feet crouched the lion, resolving into the figure of Columbia, supported by the eagle, and surrounded by thirty-one stars, with the date, 1776, and the legend "E Pluribus Unum,"—i.e., many in one,—the motto of the United States. the crowning pieced was the burning of Charleston by the British in the war of the revolution. Charleston and Bunker’s Hill were faithfully modelled. the British fleet moved up in front of the town, and opened a fierce fire of bombs and rockets, to which the Yankee batteries replied. the smoke, brilliant colored fires, stars, &c., produced by the explosions, and the appearance of the ships as they seemed to sail up towards the town, had a most magnificent effect. Finally, the town took fire, and the houses fell with a crash. One stupendous discharge of bombs, rockets and Roman candles, and all was over. Then rose one tremendous cheer that rent the sky, and made the very ground shake. Singular as it may seem, the American’s regard the battle of Bunker Hill with pride; for though defeated, they there learned that yye could fight, and that they only needed a little experience to enable them to become ultimately victorious.
My first "Fourth" in America filled me with serious reflection. What a glorious privilege, thought I, ’tis for a people to be able to enjoy themselves with unbounded license! and what unqualified praise is due to them, at the same time, for not abusing the privilege by indulging in excesses that would involve deplorable consequences! Plunging into all kinds of excitements with the zest of schoolboys, they not only enjoy themselves, but do everything in their power to render everyone else joyous and happy. Thus do the Americans commemorate their country’s natal day. That night, sadly contrasting the position of my own country with that of the proud American republic, I fervently prayed that a happier day might dawn for my own native isle of the sea.
Latest Intelligence.
By South Atlantic Telegraph Line.
Antipodes, via the poop, Yesterday.—In answer to the prayer of petition of the editor of the "Wild Goose," it has been enacted that any person found intruding on his sanctum, slates, &c., will be forthwith condemned to the "galleys"—on deck.
Nov. 30th.—The political horizon looks very stormy, as Russia, England, and all the Northern Powers, advance claims to the possession of Friesland.—(Query, Freezeland.)
Home Markets.—The Deep Sea Fishery has proved an utter failure. Fresh fish not to be had at any price. It is the tapes to form a joint-stock Company to fish the masts and spars.—Tobacco-none in market this week; There are rumours of the arrival of an abundant supply, which, we believe, will end in smoke.
Wanted.
An efficient Gardener, to take charge if the "Hougoumont’s bowers. One who understands grafting will get the preference, as it is the captain’s wish to raise a crop of new haurs(e).—Copies of testimonials to be forwarded to the Office of this paper.
