quite overpowered him. "A husband ofttimes makes the best physician," says the proverb; he was a living personification of its truth. Still, it was whispered, he had been content with Dr. Butts; but his lady was restored to bless him for many years, though the improvement of her temper did not keep pace with that of her health; and one fine morning Sir Guy de Montgomeri was seen to enter the porte-cochere of Durham House, at that time the town residence of Sir Walter Raleigh. Nothing more was ever heard of him; but a boat full of adventurers was known to have dropped down with the tide that evening to Deptford Hope, where lay the good ship the Darling, commanded by Captain Kemyss, who sailed next morning on the Virginia voyage. RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM,

GETTYSBURG.

[Full, clear, ringing tones-with spirit.]

'Twas the breaking of the tempest when rebellion broke the law,

And the fearless-hearted Lincoln raised the flaming sword of war;

When our poets sang of freedom, and from all our Northern homes

Marched the volunteers to battle, to the sound of Union drums.

From Vermont, from Massachusetts, came they forth with brows of light,

And from every State that gloried in the Union and

the right,

Till the wondering hills re-echoed to the march of armed throngs,

And the babe was rocked to slumber to the sound of

Union songs.

Every village had its drum-call, every home its stripes and stars,

Every city rang with echoes of its people's loud hurrahs,

And the Northern maiden, sewing, to her country's
honor true

Hummed her stirring "Hail Columbia" as she drew
her needle through.

Pennsylvania's hills were blooming; summer breezes
kissed the rills,

But still thicker than the flowers stood the white tents
on the hills.

Far toward Chambersburg and Carlisle, by the army-
guarded vales,

Wound the canvas-covered wagons through the daisy-
whitened dales,

And the polished, brazen cannon in the noontide
gleamed like gold;

All was stir and preparation and the hearts of men
grew bold.

Here was Meade, and there was Reynolds; here was
Howard, bold and grave,

Here was Sedgwick, Hancock, Slocum; there was Sick-
les, firm and brave;

And the country's flag waved o'er them, with its red
and white and blue,

Like alternate stripes of sunrise set with noontide's
azure hue.

See! the flaming battle opens! All forgot is Sinai's law
And the gleaming of the bayonet is the lightning flash
of war.

All the morn is wild with music of the shrieking fife
and drum,

And the sound of hosts advancing where the rushing
squadrons come.

See! Kilpatrick's troops are sweeping down the hill-
side to the creek,

Clouds of smoke enfold the valley and the hoarse-

mouthed cannon speak.

Bright gleams the clashing saber, wild the hiss of
leaden rain,

Loud the deep artillery thunder by the hill and o'er

he plain.

Glory! glory to the Union! How the blue lines, swell.

ing grand,

Surge and beat upon the gray coats, like the ocean on the strand.

General Reynolds, he has fallen! Dash away the bitter

tear!

'Tis a noble thing to die, boys, for a cause so grand, so

dear.

Hear the clanging chains of thraldom!

strike, my comrades brave,

Strike! oh,

'Tis for Right you fight, and Honor! Strike! and free the bleeding slave!

Ha! the banner shaft is shattered, and the bearer,

brave, shot through.

Save it! wave it, boys-the banner that can keep an army true!

General Howard's flaming cannon flash their deathlight on the plain,

And the Thirteenth and the Sixteenth pour their volley like a rain.

Cheer boys! cheer! the foe is wavering! Never mind the shot and shell.

Rally, boys! when Right is sovereign, Glory leads her armies well.

On, Vermont! On, Massachusetts!

firm and brave!

Every State on!

On! and plant the flag of Freedom on Oppression's

cursed grave!

And the brave troops of the Union, like one man, close on the foe,

Till the foeman's ranks are scattered like a drift of windblown snow.

Three dark days are filled with fighting. On the third, the sunset fire

Comes to light the earth and purge it with its heav'n enkindled pyre;

On the field the dead are lying with their faces to the

sky,

Dead! away from home and kindred. Dead! and who hath seen them die?

Not a tender voice to bless them in that stormy close of life,

But the smoke of war about them, and the deafening roar of strife.

Yet the tender peace of evening, like the Christ upon the sea,

Now hath come to still the tempest of their stormy Galilee.

O'er the raging waves of battle hath it brought this wondrous calm,

And the day that man made hideous Nature closes with a psalm.

Round their snow-white tents, at twilight, lie the battleweary men;

Lee is conquered-battle over, and sweet rest has come

again.

And they dream of home and kindred, of the little cottage, poor,

With the morning-glories nodding in the sunshine, by the door,

And the mother, kneeling gently, with her face upturned

in prayer,

And the blind old house dog whining for his master, on the stair.

Then the view grows dim and misty, and the cheek with tears is wet,

For the soul may brave an army, but it cannot brave regret.

Years have fled. The war is over. North and South have taken hands;

One sweet country-one proud nation, and no slave in all the lands;

But the names of patriot soldiers, who went down to death sublime,

Four an everlasting lustre down the long arcades of time. ERNEST W. SHURTLEFF.

A BOY'S ESSAY ON "COLUMBUS.”

[The following story comes from a school in the midlands: the boys of the third class to write a short essay on Columbus. was sent up by an ambitious essayist :]

The master told
The following

"CLUMBUS was a man who could make an egg stand on end without breaking it. The king of Spain said to Clumbus: 'Can you discover America?' 'Yes,' said Clumbus, 'if you will give me a ship.' So he had a ship and sailed over the sea in the direction where he thought America ought to be found. The sailors quarreled and said they believed there was no such place. But after many days the pilot came to him and said: 'Clumbus,

I see land.' Then that is America,' said Clumbus. When the ship came near, the land was full of black men. Clumbus said: 'Is this America?' 'Yes, it is,' said they. Then he said: 'I suppose you are the nigs?'Yes,' they said, 'we are.' The chief said: "I suppose you are Clumbus.' 'You are right,' said be. Then the chief turned to his men and said: 'There is no help for it; we are discovered at last.'

gers

LONDON STANDARD.

ECHO DELL.

[A vocal exercise.]

Он, listen, friends, and hear me tell
Of a spot I've found in the farmer's dell;
'Tis a place where fairy echoes glide,
A spot where the twilight loves to hide;
For, when noontide glories gild the hill,
This rock-walled spot is shaded still;

And the echoes shout, shout-ring, ring-bound, bound,
In and out with a merry shout.

Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!-Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Follow, follow-follow, follow-follow, follow.

Away from the town and the dusty street,
From the clatter of hoofs and the patter of feet,