sudden absquatulation at the beginning of the action. Couldn't I get my punishment commuted to something or other “for life ?"

Wait. I haven't heard the first word against your conduct; but, on the contrary, everything in your praise. What was it? Explain.

Capt. P. Oh dear! oh dear! What a fool I was to volunteer! I might have known I was a-hem! I hadn't been a week down here among these confounded woods and marshes, with seceshers popping off pickets every few nights and daily prospects of a muss, before I found out I was a— well, I may as well out with it-a coward, there!

Wait. Why didn't you resign? At best, soldiering is a poor business. Look at me, a graduate of West Point and ten years in the service-years spent amidst privations in the wilderness and fights with the Indians and nothing but a poor lieutenant yet.

Capt. P. Well now, my good fellow, don't interrupt me with that nonsense. I couldn't resign; I was going to run for the legislature in the spring; don't you see I could not resign? Well, when the battle was sprung on us all of a sudden, yesterday, and I found myself at the head of the troops, in a very exposed situation, and the balls began to rattle round me, I just resolved to-to-to run away, you know. But the enemy began immediately to retreat, and I took heart again. We followed on at a double-quick, for about a half-a-mile, when they turned and made a stand, and commenced pouring in the bullets among us like hail. I was just well-nigh scared out of my wits; but I did not dare to run, for fear of my own men. But presently a chap was knocked over, right at my side, and that started me. I broke for a belt of trees on a little knoll not far from the road, which promised shelter-yelling with terror, as I went. A party of fellows sprang after me, with bayonets at full charge, howling like so many wolves, trying to run me down. Driven to desperation, I glared at 'em over my shoulder, and screamed frantically "Follow me, and I'll be the death of you!" and then rushed on, up the knoll, waving my sword and bellowing like a madman. We had almost reached the copse, when three or four cannon shot blazed out of it-passing clear over the heads of the party. But it was too late to stop, and I leaped wildly over the mound which had been hidden by the underbrush and found myself among a parcel of chaps not uniformed like our folks, (who looked as much scared as I did,) and sank fainting to the ground.

When I came to my senses, I found myself in comfortable

quarters with the surgeon at my side. Some fellow-I don't know whether one of our folks or a rebel-had given me a bayonet thrust in the shoulder; but it don't amount to much. And I don't care much either, that the whole regiment witnessed my flight and chased me. but oh, this court-martial business! That makes my blood run cold again!

Wait. Hark! I hear the General coming.

Capt. P. Oh good gracious! Now for it. Stand by me, Wait! I say if he gives me my choice between being hung and being shot, which would you take?

Wait. Well, shooting is the most military.
Capt. P. Then I'll choose hanging.

Wait. Hush! the General is here.

Enter MAJ.-GEN. FOGY and STAFF.

Gen. Fogy. Captain Punkin, your hand! [Shakes hands.] Gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you the hero of Sheep's Run! [The officers bow.] Yes, gentlemen, I do not hesitate to declare that, but for the amazing gallantry of Captain Punkin, in carrying the masked battery, into range of which our men had been led by the stratagem of the enemy-but for the desperate valor which led him up that hill into the very teeth of their cannon, cheering on his troops by the most inspiring shouts, and performing prodigies with his single arm-but for that brilliant and sagacious achievement, undertaken on his own responsibility, and carried out by his own individual daring and exposure-the Battle of Sheep's Run would have been to us an occasion of disaster and defeat, instead of triumph. [Applause from Wait and the officers.]

Capt. P. I say, Wait; what does it all mean? Is he gassing me? [Aside to Wait.]

Wait. Certainly not. Old Fogy never "gasses." You're a mighty lucky fellow. Say something in reply.

Capt. P. [To the General.] Old Fogy-excuse me—that is, I mean General Fogy-I-you-he-we-that is—

Gen. F. Captain Punkin, I see your embarrassment; and it is as becoming, sir, as your valor. Modesty is ever the companion of true merit.

Capt. P. Really, old Fo-I mean General, General Fogy, I-upon my word,-I-in short-the American eagle-the American eagle I say-long may she wave.-[Gesticulates without speaking.]

Gen. F. Captain Punkin, it is not every man who can talk as well as act. We excuse, nay, admire your diffidence. And yet, at the proper time, you do not fail, even in speech.

Gentlemen, what do you suppose were the immortal words with which he kindled the enthusiasm of his soldiers at the decisive moment? "Follow me," said he; "follow me and I will be the death of you!"

Capt. P. Oh, good gracious! stand by me, Wait, or I shall sink.

Gen. F. Sublime, heroic exclamation! “Follow me, and I will be the death of you!" An exclamation, gentlemen, which placed death—death in the cause of our country-foremost, as the impelling motive to a brave action. Nobly did our gallant troops respond to the intrepid call. Nobly did they follow their devoted leader up that ascent, and against that terrible battery, till, faint and wounded, he sank on the ground in the very embrace of victory. [All applaud by clapping their hands.]

Capt. P. I can't stand it any longer, Wait; I'm in a cold sweat all over!

Gen. F. I see it pains you, Captain Punkin, to have your own praises sounded. Your grateful country, sir, will compel you to hear far more than I can offer. It is now my unspeakable pleasure to inform you that the President of the United States, as the organ of your country, with that keensighted discrimination which has ever so eminently distinguished him, both in the making and unmaking the appointment and removal of officers, has directed me, by telegraph, to promote you to the rank of BRIGADIER GENERAL. Your wound entitles you to a furlough of six months; you will proceed immediately to Washington, and there receive your commission as bearer of dispatches. I have the honor, General Punkin, to wish you a very good day. [Shakes hands with P., as also do the officers of his staff, who bow profoundly, and go out.]

Gen. P. [Looking comically at Wait.] I say, Wait, what do you think of that?

Wait. [Bursts out laughing.] Ha! ha! ha! this is one of the fortunes of war, sure enough! You expected elevation, but not exactly of this kind, eh?

Gen. P. Certainly not ;-rather more after this fashion. [Making a sign with his finger to his neck, to indicate hanging.] But I say, that legislature business is rather a sure thing, is'nt it!

Wait. Sure as the crack of doom! And upon my word, Punkin, I think you deserve your laurels as well as half of the Brigadiers. Long may you live to wear them!

Gen. P. Oh, trust me for that! And, Wait, my boy, you

shan't be neglected any longer. I shall place you, with the rank of Colonel, on my staff.

Wait. Thank you, my dear fellow! I couldn't have a safer place. You won't think of going into action again?

Gen. P. Not I. Trust me for that! I'll soon manage to pick a political quarrel with the administration, and then they'll lay me on the shelf with a few score of others, and forget all about me.

Wait. Well, General, you may succeed, but it takes a pretty smart man to get laid on the shelf!

[They go out as they talk.]

HUSH! OR, THE GRAND MASTER OF THE K. G. C.

Characters.-DODDLEWOBBLE, a conservative, non-committal old bachelor; DINGBATTER, his patriotic partner; CÆSAR, an "intelligent contraband;" WALTER, nephew and clerk to Doddlewobble; BLIMBER, FUDGIT, RACKET, comrades and accomplices of Walter.

SCENE I.

[An apartment in Mr. Doddlewobble's house. Side doors R. and L. Two in back. Mr. D. discovered reading the paper at a table set out for breakfast.

Dodd. Was ever a man in such a terrible stew as I? A quiet bachelor for fifty-five years, with nothing to move me from the even tenor of my way, and at this late day to be so fearfully shaken up and disarranged by this "cruel war." It is'nt so much that the house of Doddlewobble & Dingbatter lost fifty thousand dollars by their Southern connections, though that is bad enough, but the confusion and doubt and difficulty that still exists about every body and every thing, is enough to drive one crazy. There's my nephew, Walter, a poor clerk in my store, has gone and enlisted in the 14th Volunteers, and now wants to marry my rich ward, Clara, before he is off to the war; and Clara wants to marry him ; and my old partner, Dingbatter, who has gone stark, staring mad, with what he calls patriotism, wants him to have her. It seems to me everybody is standing on his head. And gold at 157, and exchange according-and radicalism rampant, and the whole country swimming on a sea of greenbacksgood Heavens! what will come of it all; and which way a man turn for a quiet life? ·

shall

The very newspapers conspire to increase this confusion. Now, just see here! Dispatch in the Herald: "The enemy

fled before our advancing troops without firing a gun." Now that's well enough. I've not the slightest objection to any number of enemies flying any number of times before any quantity of guns are fired. If that's their peculiar way of enjoying themselves, let them enjoy themselves in their peculiar way in Heaven's name. But what do you think of this? Dispatch in the Times: "Our troops fled before the advancing enemy without firing a gun!" Hang it, it can't be both, you know. It's perfectly distracting!

But only look at this from the columns of a single paper. [Takes up Tribune.] Um! N. Y. Tribune. [Reads.] General Banks is advancing." “Gen. Banks is retreating." "Gen. Banks will not advance." "Gen. Banks has advanced." "Gen. Banks was killed in a skirmish last Monday." "Gen. Banks dined with the Commander-in-Chief on Tuesday." "Gen. Banks' body will be sent home on Wednesday." Gen. Banks made a reconnoissance of the enemy's lines on Thursday."

[Throwing down the paper, and rising angrily.] It's too much! I cannot survive it. If I should drop down this minute, the coroner's verdict would be, "Died of our War Correspondent ;" and I do believe they would charitably add, "We further think the deceased was of an unsound mind, as he was known to be in the habit of reading the daily papers." Oh! my poor head; my poor head!

[Enter CESAR 2 E., R.]

Cæsar. Ready for your breakfast, sah?

Dodd. [Mimicking.] Ready for my breakfast, sah? No, sah; I shall never be ready for my breakfast, again, you

black rascal!

Cæsar. Hi! hi! take care dar! take care! musn't do dat! Times is changed, sah; and niggers is ris. You musn't treat 'em ondisspectful. Massa Doddle wobble, did you ebber hear of de impendin' crisis?

Dodd. Impending crisis! I've heard of nothing else for the last thirty years.

Cæsar. Well, den, it am finally impended; and de niggers is de crisis. Well, dey is. Dis chile's one o' de crisises. Yah! yah! [Laughs.] Lor! Massa Doddle wobble, dis yer war aint 'bout none o' yer white trash; it's 'bout de niggers. De niggers am de war and de crisis bofe.

Dodd. How dare you stand there and talk in that way! Caesar. [Grinning.] Kase niggers is de war.

Dodd. I say, how dare you talk in that manner to me, you imp of darkness?