Enough have I hated you, devils, since Bill was shot But now in my breast, like a demon, revengefulest Death came not to me when I sought it, where bul- But you've torn from my eyes her sweet image; Alas! no more in our quarters can I steal away Leaving song, and jest, and laughter, and all their To sit me down in quiet, and taking that from my Look, love, and kiss the sweet image-so long and No more on my lonely picket-starting quick at each little sound Knowing well, to give me "my ticket," their scouts Can I pause, and glance at her features by the pale And kiss the place in the darkness, as I wait for an- Well, I'll back to my snug old quarters, and show Or, some rambling rebel party may think me a But here on my gun I'll fix it-this little, uninjured And sight o'er my broken locket more true to each | given in French, Dutch, Spanish, or something else. which we could not exactly understand, but seemed to be executed with promptness and a remarkable degree of precision. The Mexicans, particularly, were objects of much curiosity with our citizens, most of whom had never seen one before.-Lynchburgh Virginian. THE BEGINNING OF THE END--SUPPLIES RUNNING SHORT.-The Memphis Appeal of the 18th instant considers the situation of the rebels in the following serious language:-We desire to call the attention of planters to the importance of an early subscription in flour and corn-meal for the use of our army. The Confederate Government purchased in May last an immense quantity of flour, and stored it at this place, but the supply is now nearly exhausted. Unless the planters of West Tennessee, North Alabama, and Mississippi, come forward and subscribe flour and meal, taking Confederate bonds in payment, our brave boys in the field will soon be without bread. Let each planter indicate to the Commissary Department at this place, by mail or through his commission merchant, what quantity he is willing to sell to the Government for their bonds, and let them send it forward immediately. There are five mills in operation here capable of grinding bushels daily, to which the planters can send their wheat and have it ground and barreled, ready for transportation. The near approach of the autumnal season, and the almost certainty of the continuance of the war, suggest not only the propriety but the necessity of supplying our troops in the field with warm clothing and warm covering. It will not probably be within the power of the Government to do this, and much necessarily depends upon individual effort. On this subject the following suggestions of the West Tennessee Whig are the most feasible and practicable we have seen : THE Richmond correspondent of the Charleston Courier, of the 15th, has the following paragraph: -The filibusteros who filled the world with so much angry declamation a few years ago, are figuring prominently in the Southern armies at the present The supply of blankets in store is exhausted, and time. The tall and martial Henningsen left to-day the possibility of supply from the North is cut off for the West, to assume the colonelcy of the Third by the rigid non-intercourse of the war, while the regiment in Wise's brigade. Frank Anderson will blockading of our seaports cuts us off from all hopes be his lieutenant-colonel. Colonel Charles Carroll of a reasonable supply by importation. How, then, Hicks is a lieutenant in a company of Colonel Mc-it may be asked, are the wants of our soldiers to be Law's regiment, now at Yorktown. General Bob supplied? It can only be done by every family Wheat greatly distinguished himself as commander giving up a portion of the blankets they have for of a New Orleans military corps at Manassas. Ma-family use, to the soldiers, and supplying the defi jor O'Hara, of Cuban fame, has a commission in the army. Colonel Rudler, I see, is raising a company for the war in Georgia. An English filibuster, one Major Atkins, a tall, big-whiskered, loose-trowsered, "haw-haw" specimen of a Londoner, who was with Garibaldi in Sicily, and who is "just over," fought gallantly by the side of Wheat, at Manassas. A MIXED REGIMENT.-When the Tiger Rifles, who played such havoc with Lincoln's Pet Lambs" at Manassas, on the memorable 21st July, passed through this city, we thought that we had seen a specimen of the roughest and most ferocious set of men on earth; but when we speak of the Tenth Louisiana regiment, of New Orleans, which passed through this city on Sunday, language is inadequate to give a description, composed as it was of English, French, Germans, Dutch, Italians, Sicilians, Spaniards, Portuguese, Swiss, Mexicans, Indians, and Creoles, who, in their jabbering, seemed to represent a second Babel. The commander, together with many other officers, are veterans who served throughout the Crimean war. The commands are ciency thus created by making "comforts" out of cotton for their own use. These comforts do well enough for persons in comfortable houses at home when they are not exposed to the weather, and our people are expected to make use of them, and send their blankets to the soldiers. There is no time to be lost in doing it either. Before many are aware of it, the cool nights of early autumn will be upon them, and what they do for the comfort of the soldiers, they must do quickly. A SISTER of the late Col. Cameron writes to Beauregard :— Gen. Beauregard, Commander of Confederate Army-DEAR SIR:-With a grieved and torn heart I address you. If it is in your power, will you give a word of comfort to a distressed spirit? I allude to the death of the gallant Col. Cameron, of the Federal army, on last Sunday, 21st July. We are all God's creatures, alike in His sight. It is a be reaved sister that petitions. Col. Cameron received two shots, immediately following each other, that destroyed his life. The fate of his body is the grief -to know what has become of it. Think of the dis- | position therein claimed was not easily admitted, tress of a like nature in Southern families, and let us forgive as we hope to be forgiven. All that we have been able to learn is, that Col. C. was carried to a farm-house, near the scene of battle. He had letters in his pocket declaring his name and station. He was rather a large man, with sandy hair, somewhat gray, dressed in gray clothes. Have mercy on the bowed spirit that laments for the beloved lost-that would be comforted to know he had received decent burial. Notwithstanding the war, we are all brothers. "God prosper the righteous cause." In pity, have inquiries made, for the love a sister bears a brother, and may God show you mercy in time of trouble. Should your noble spirit grant my request, and if by inquiry you can receive any information, please have a letter addressed to Mrs. Sarahı Z. Evans, No. 553 Capitol Hill, Washington city, care of Adams Express Company. Very respectfully, your well-wisher, HEAD-QUARTERS FIRST CORPS, ARMY OF THE POTOMAC, MANASSAS, Aug. 5, 1861. MADAM:-Your letter of the 26th ultimo has been received, making some inquiries relative to the body of your late brother, Colonel Cameron, United States Army, killed at Manassas on the 21st ultimo. In answer, I will state, that upon inquiry, I find he was interred with several other bodies in a grave about 200 yards from the house of a Mrs. Dogan, on the battle-field, who attended herself to this sad duty-forgetting in her goodness of heart that these very foes had brought destruction and destitution upon her home and fireside-and that they had crossed into her country for the purpose of subverting its institutions, and the form of government it had chosen, as a free people, to establish for itself. Indeed, I fully agree with you. May all the distress of this unholy war be visited upon the heads of those who are responsible for it, and may the Almighty Ruler of the Universe, in. His infinite goodness and wisdom, (continue to) prosper the righteous cause! A gentleman of this State, Mr. Kinlaw Fauntleroy, a private in Col. Stuart's cavalry brigade, has in his possession a miniature portrait of Col. Cameron and wife, which he intends to return to their friends after the war; for at present no intercourse of the kind is admissible between the two contending parties. With much respect, I remain your most obedient servant, G. T. BEAUREGARD, Gen'l Com'g. Mrs. S. Z. EVANS, No. 553 Capitol Hill, Washington, D. C.-Richmond Whig. MESSRS. ARNOLD HARRIS, M'GRAW, AND ELY. We learn that several members of Congress and other influential and prominent gentlemen are in favor of the release of these individuals. Certain correspondence of Mr. Harris', written in the month of April, to friends in New Orleans, proving him to be a friend to the South, has been laid before the authorities. It has never been pretended that IIarris did any thing more than commit an indiscretion and place himself in an equivocal attitude by ap proaching our lines without a flag of truce, seeking indirectly for the body of Secretary Cameron's brother. His letter to Gen. Beauregard was couched in terms ill-calculated to forward him in the business upon which he had come, and his "neutral" seeing he came from the enemy's country on the errand he did. But an example having been set, and the dignity of this government vindicated, we may let Mr. Harris go.-Richmond Dispatch. FEMALE SPIES.-When we consider what a scan dalous mission that of secession is, we may well feel surprised to see it approved by "dear woman." What its attractions are to them, I am not magician enough to devisc. I accept the fact as it is, without furnishing motives or investigating causes. Some of these fair sympathizers are distinguished in their way. Miss Mary Windle, who was captured has been a violent advocate of the traitors. She is a few days ago, and who is now held as a prisoner, a maiden of uncertain years and autumnal appearance-a writer of bad original, and an adopter of first-rate other poetry-addicted to newspaper and hotel society-a sort of virgin Jenkins, a kind of Mrs. Joe Gargery, always out on a sort of ". page" on various pretences. Mary" supposed that as her talents had been rejected here, she might find a better market for them elsewhere, and so she ordered them to Davis in the capacity of a clandestine correspondent and eaves-dropper. She boasts of her arrest, and seems desirous of the notoriety she has acquired. Mrs. Greenhow is another of these lady friends of treason-in person of far more ability than the masculine Miss Fribble above referred to. She has been one of the queens of our F. F. V.'s, and delighted in being one of the leaders of fashion and society hereaways. A long time engaged in this business, she has undoubtedly been of great service to the public enemy. Like Miss Windle, she glories in her martyrdom, and will doubtless look forward to being duly commissioned as one of the saints in the rebel calendar. I hear that others of these sweet daughters of Eve are to follow this twain. I hear the wife of one of our leading merchants discussed as a candidate for the attentions of the provost-marshal. Is it offending the sanctitics to write of theso things? Is our regard for woman to prevent us from exposing and checking them when they become the emissaries of a great and unparalleled tyranny? When their husbands, and fathers, and brothers run off to enlist in the traitors' army, they leave behind these tender partners of their former homes; and if these latter become agents of discord and mediums of treachery, the law must take its course.-Phila. Press. WAR SONNET. OH, GoD of Nations! whose august decrce, Oh, Thou! who through the patriots' heart of oak And all these traitors' hands and hearts uncloakAye, though with blood yon "sacred soil" we soak. ACMEL. 33 See the plough left in the furrow, Deals out no ringing blow; And the women all are praying, Not theirs the only voices That seek the heavenly ear, Nor theirs alone the bosoms That are torn with hope and fear: From the bondsman's Southern cabin, From the Northern freeman's door, The colored man is watching, As we march to Baltimore. To Baltimore! false city! They that founded her were true; But this perjured generation Found other work to do. The blood of Massachusetts Hath dignified the street, Which should else bear down in story And now, oh! lift them gently, As the conquerors pass by! "The Country is in danger!" That a people can be free. While our firm hands grasp the sword, And over all our armies Be the banner of the Lord. Now out with all the bunting, The red and white and blue, And show the eyes of nations What freedom's wind can do: Show the strength of a Republic Before the pride of kings; And in this stormy weather Let the Eagle try her wings. Our "winds" are vocal with the boom And answers with his wail of woes; We stand aghast! "the hour is nigh," When "Eld's" grim goblins, grinning, sit Close by the Nation's fane, and cry: "Doomed country, welcome to the pit, Dug deep for all who thus begin The record of their work with sin !" Is there an arm stretched down to save? "There is no God!" the fool replies; "No King but COTTON!" and we wave The lie beneath insulted skies; Give Slavery fair Freedom's place, And flaunt the fraud in Heaven's face. The fire of civil war to-day Has charred upon the Nation's brow A brand no tears can wash away! No compromise will answer NOW! There is a God, and Now He rules, And whips us with a race of fools! "ONLY NINE MILES TO THE JUNCTION." BY H. MILLARD, COMPANY A, 71ST REGIMENT, N. Y. S. M. The troops of Rhode Island were posted along, As the Seventy-first Regiment, one thousand strong, We'd been marching all day in the sun's scorching ray, With two biscuits each as a ration; When we asked Gov. Sprague to show us the way, And "How many miles to the Junction?" CHORUS.-How many miles, how many miles, How many miles to the Junction? When we asked Gov. Sprague to show us the way, And "How many miles to the Junction?" The Rhode Island boys cheered us on out of sight, After giving the following injunction: "Just keep up your courage-you'll get there to night, For 'tis only nine miles to the Junction." They gave us hot coffee, a grasp of the hand, Which cheered and refreshed our exhaustion, We reached in six hours the long-promised land, For 'twas "only nine miles to the Junction." CHORUS.-Only nine miles, &c. And now as we meet them on Washington's streets, And still the old cry some one surely repeats, And whene'er we meet, let us each other greet Nine cheers for the flag under which we will fight, CHORUS.-Only nine miles, &c. T STEP TO THE FRONT, SONS OF THE HEATHER. RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO THE HIGHLAND guard, 79TH REGIMENT. Step to the front, bonnet and feather, Linked with the dreams of your own Highland vale; Step to the front, sons of the heather, Show the bold Southrons the face of the Gael. The lords of the South have unkennelled their beagles, The legions of tyranny sweep from afar; Step to the front, bonnet and feather, &c. Flowers of the vale they have crushed down before them; All to the will of the despots must bow; But manhood has met them, and death hovers o'er them The strong-bearded thistle is waiting them now. Step to the front, bonnet and feather, &c. Down on them, Highlanders, swoop from your eyry, STEAM-FRIGATE PAWNEE PASSING MOUNT VERNON. BY ISAAC M'LELLAN. "In passing down the Potomac River, and arriving opposite Mount Vernon, a beautiful and graceful tribute was paid to the sacred remains that lie entombed in that hallowed spot. All hands were called, officers in swords and epaulets, sailors in their neat uniforms, the fine guard of the Pawnee drawn up, with belt and musket. At a given signal the large American ensign fell at half-mast; the ship's bell tolled out its muffled tones, the melancholy drums rolled their funereal salute, while the presented arms and uncovered heads of officers and men paid a sad tribute of respect to him who was first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen; and so the Pawnee passed on, silent and mourning; for he by whose grave she glided was the Father of his Country." -Morning paper. Fast down the bay the frigate pass'd, The brave flag, world-renowned ! The hundred seamen, stout and bold, To guard it evermore; While life should last, while heart should beat, That flag should be their winding-sheet, Though focmen might their hurricane From bastion and from wall; Though red with gore their decks should flow, Would they for mercy call! On as they swept, Mount Vernon's shade Then with reverential tread, Their ensign at the half-mast fell, Their Father's great remains! No whisper breath'd that sailing crew, Fast by that sacred shore; They mus'd on him, and his stern ranks, Ceas'd from their great career! Might see, in each dim, moody glade, Close round that lonely tomb; Are darkening now in gloom! The starry banner low ! On, on the noble vessel glides, THE MEETING ON THE BORDER. The civil war had just begun, And caused much consternation, While O. P. Morton governed one Great State of this great nation, So it did. |