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With a pill as can operate single,

But when the pomp of feudal pride, like a dream had At eight hundred yards and no rest,'

passed away, He's left for his cusses to mingle,

And everywhere the knightly steel was rusting to Like a eagle what's glued to his nest.


The common people drew their blades in quite another “ 'Twas only last night when on duty

cause, A sightin' them pickets o' theirs,

And in the place of giants grim, they whittled up the That I drew a true bead on a 'beauty,'

laws. With a greasy old coon on his ears—

Oh! those stern old days of whittling ! "O beautiful varmint! I'll shoot ye,' I whispered aloud unawares.

They whittled down the royal throne with all its ancient

might, “No, you won't,” says my comrade, ole Dan'l, And many a tough old cavalier was whittled out of The orders keep pickets from harm.'

sight; "Well, I'll rip up them stripes of red Aannel They whittled off the king's head, and set it on the What so sarcily shine on his arm,'

wall, I pleaded, but 'No,' says old Dan'l,

They whittled out a commonwealth, but it could not * The order's keep pickets from harm.'

last at all.

Oh! those fiery days of whittling! “Sech orders my heart's disappointin', 'Twasn't sech as inveigled me in

There came across the stormy deep, a stern and iron To clap my mark down to the writin'

band, The recruiter said glories would win.

A solemn look on every face—their hatchets in their Oh! when fellers is gathered for fightin',

hands; Say, why can't the scrimmage begin?

They whittled down the forest oak, the chestnut, and

the pine, “Oh! I'm sick of this lazy black river,

And planted in the wilderness the rose-tree and the Where for ever we're likely to stay.

vine. Why, the Capital's saved if it ever

Oh! those fearful days of whittling!
Will be-and it can't run away!
Can't we leave it a spell ? are we never

They made themselves a clearing, and housed their
To sport in these diggins here—say?

little freight,

They put their Sunday coats on, and whittled out a “Must a cove as can ring up his twenty At twelve hundred yards on a 'string,'

They cut it round so perfectly, they whittled it so Get his band out when varmints is plenty,

“ true," Like a watch-works what hasn't no spring ?

That it still stands in beauty for all the world to view. Must a screamer be mum when he's sent t'ye

Oh! those grand old days of whittling ! In voice for his sweetest to sing.

When England sent her hirelings, with cannon, gun, 'I cares not for fierce adversaries,

and blade, If for fightin' we wasn't so slow

To break and batter down the State which these good O Sergeant! it's waitin' that varies

men had made, The misery that hangs on me so—

The people seized for weapons whatever came to I longs for my darlin' 'peraries,'

hand, And that's why my feelins is low.”

And whittled these intruders back, and drove them
from the land.

Oh! heroic days of whittling!

In men of Saxon blood it stays—this love of whittling" Your Yankee is always to be found with a jack-knife, and

still, when he has nothing else to do, is eternally whittling.”—GROWL' And something must be whittled to pacify the will; ING OLD TRAVELLER.

When the old wars were over, and peace came back In the olden time of England, the days of Norman

again, pride,

They took to whittling mountains, and filling vale and The mail-clad chieftain buckled on his broad-sword at

glen. his side,

Oh! those peaceful days of whittling ! And, mounted on his trusty steed, from land to land he strayed,

They whittled out the railroad path through hill, and And ever as he wandered on, he whittled with his rock, and sand, blade.

And sent their snorting engines to thunder through Oh! those dreamy days of whittling!

the land ;

Sails whitened all the harbors, the mountain valleys He was out in search of monsters-of giants grim and stirred, tall,

And the hum and roar of labor through all the land He was hunting up the griffins—the dragons, great and small

Oh! those busy days of whittling! He broke in through the oak doors of many a castlegate,

But there long had dwelt among us a gaunt and And what he whittled when within, 'tis needless to

hideous Wrong, relate.

Set round with ancient guarantees, with legal ramparts Oh! those foolish days of whittling!


was heard.

Made green

With look and tone defiant, it feared not God or

man, But snatched on every side for power to work its wicked plan,

All ripe and dry for whittling. of old this Wrong was humble, asking, with pious cry, This only, to be left alone, in its own time to die; But, fed by this first yielding, bolder and bolder grown, Shameless before the nations now, it reared its bloody throne.

The time draws nigh for whittling! “Pride goes before destruction,” the wise man said of

old; "Whom the gods seek to ruin they first make mad;"

and bold In the frenzy of its madness, this Wrong forgot its

place, Came out with noise of gongs to fright our Yankee whittling race.

God gave this chance for whittling. And now, my trusty Saxons, who come from near and

far, Remember who your fathers were, and set your teeth “Sword of the Lord and Gideon !" be still your battle

cry, And strike as Samson struck of old, smite Slavery hip and thigh.

Now is your time for whittling.

Memories of many a battle-plain,
Where their life-blood flowing,

the grass and gold the grain, Above their grave-mounds growing. Hopes—that the children of their prayers

With them in valor vying,
May do as noble deeds as theirs,

In living and in dying:
And make, for children yet to come,

The land of their bequeathing
The imperial and the peerless home

Of happiest beings breathing.
For this the warrior-path we tread,

The battle-path of duty,
And change, for field and forest-bed,

Our bowers of love and beauty.
Music! bid thy minstrels play

No tunes of grief or sorrow; Let them cheer the living brave to-day,

They may wail the dead to-morrow.

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for war;


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And when this life shall rest again from all this noise

and strife, And Peace her olive-branch shall wave o'er this broad

realm of life, Fair as the sun, our nation before the world shall

stand, Freedom on all her banners, freedom throughout the land.

Oh ! these grand rewards of whittling!



Hark! a bugle's echo comes,

Hark! a fife is singing,
Hark! the roll of far-off drums,

Through the air is ringing !
Nearer the bugle's echo comes,

Nearer the fife is singing, Near and more near the roll of drums

Through the air is ringing. War! it is thy music proud,

Wakening the brave-hearted, Memories—hopes—a glorious crowd,

At its call have started.

There's a happy time coming

When the boys come home, There's a glorious day coming

When the boys come home. We will end the dreadful story Of this treason dark and gory In a sun-burst of glory

When the boys come home. The day will seem brighter

When the boys come home; For our hearts will be lighter

When the boys come home.
Wives and sweethearts will press them
In their arms, and caress them,
And pray God to bless them,

When the boys come home.
The thinned ranks will be proudest

When the boys come home,
And their cheer will ring the loudest

When the boys come home. The full ranks will be shattered, And the bright arms will be battered, And the battle-standards tattered,

When the boys come home. Their bayonets may be rusty

When the boys come home,
And their uniforms dusty

When the boys come home;
But all shall see the traces
Of battle's royal graces
In the brown and bearded faces

When the boys come home.
Our love shall go to meet them

When the boys come home,
To bless them and to greet them

When the boys come home.
And the fame of their endeavor
Time and change shall not dissever
From the nation's heart for ever

When the boys come home.

Memories of our sires of old,

Who, oppression-driven,
High their rainbow-flag unrolled

To the sun and sky of heaven,
Memories of the true and brave,

Who, at honor's bidding, Stepped, their country's life to save,

To war as to their wedding.


HONORABLE MENTION OF A COLORED SOLDIER.-The min Franklin, and where the "bright Juniata” flows following letters were received by the Military Secre- |--Pennsylvania--but he rested not there; the black tary of Governor Andrew, Albert G. Browne, Esq., at man was not secure on the soil where the Declaration Port Royal :

of Independence was written. He went far. Then he HEADQUARTERS FIFTY-FOURTH MASS. Vols., visited the Empire State--great New-York-- whose MORRIS ISLAND, S. C., October 15, 1863.

chief ambition seemed to be for commerce and gold, COLONEL: I have the honor to forward you the fol- and with her unceasing struggle for supremacy, she lowing letters, received a few days since from Sergeant heard not the slave; she only had time to spurn the W. H. Carney, company C, of this regiment. Men man with the sable skin, and made him feel that he tion has before been made of his heroic conduct in was an alien in his native land. preserving the American flag, and bearing it from the

At last he set his weary feet upon the sterile rocks field, in the assault on Fort Wagner, on the eighteenth of “Old Massachusetts.” The very air he breathed of July last, but that you may have the history com- put enthusiasm into his spirit. Oh! yes, he found a replete, I send a simple statement of the facts, as I have fuge from oppression in the Old Bay State. He seobtained them from him, and an officer who was an lected as his dwelling-place the city of New-Bedford, eye-witness :

where “Liberty Hall" is a sacred edifice. Like the When the Sergeant arrived to within about one hun- Temple of Diana, which covered the virgins from harma dred yards of the Fort—he was with the first battalion, in olden tịme, so old Liberty Hall in New-Bedford prowhich was in the advance of the storming column-he tects the oppressed slave of the nineteenth century. received the regimental colors, pressed forward to the After stopping a short time, he sent for his family, front rank, near the Colonel, who was leading the men and there they still dwell. I remained in the city over the ditch, He says, as they ascended the wall with the family, pursuing the avocation of a jobber of the Fort, the ranks were full, but as soon as they of work for stores, and at such places as I could find reached the top, they “ melted away” before the ene- employment. I soon formed connection with a church my's fire “almost instantly." He received a severe under charge of the Rev. Mr. Jackson, now Chaplain wound in the thigh, but fell only upon his knees. He of the Fifty-fifth Massachusetts volunteers. plauted the flag upon the parapet, lay down on the Previous to the formation of colored troops I had a outer slope, that he might get as much shelter as pos- strong inclination to prepare myself for the ministry; sible; there he remained for over half an hour, till but when the country called for all persons, I could the Second brigade came up. He kept the colors fly, best serve my God by serving my country and my oping until the second conflict was ended. When our pressed brothers. The sequel is short-I enlisted for forces retired, he followed, creeping on one knee, the war. I am your humble and obedient servant, still holding up the flag. It was thus that Sergeant

WILLIAM H. CARNEY, Carney came from the field, having held the emblem Sergeant Co. C, Fifty-fourth Massachusetts Volunteers of liberty over the walls of Fort Wagner during the sanguinary conflict of the two brigades, and having re- Tax CANINE SPECIES SOUTH.- The Columbus Sun ceived two very severe wounds, one in the thigh, and estimates that in the confederate States of America one in the head. Still he refused to give up his sacred there are not, perhaps, less than one million of dogs, trust until he found an officer of his regiment.

little and big. We regard this as a very moderate esWhen he entered the field hospital, where his wound- timate. It is quite evident that these dogs must cat; ed comrades were being brought in, they cheered him it is evident, also, that every ounce of bread they eat and the colors. Though nearly exhausted with the loss diminishes the supply of food just that much ; and, of blood, he said: "Boys, the old flag never touched consequently, as the supply is decreased, the price of the ground."

what remains must increase. Suppose, for instance, of him, as a man and a soldier, I can speak in the that each dog will consume only one half an ounce of highest terms of praise.

bread per day, that is certainly a moderate estimate, I have the honor to be, Colonel, very respectfully, but we desire to be clearly within the bounds of reayour most obedient servant,

son; then the million of curs would consume three M. S. LITTLEFIELD, million five hundred thousand ounces per week, or Colonel Commanding Fifty-fourth Regt. Mass. Vols. fifteen million one hundred and sixty-six thousand Colonel A. G. BROWNE, Jr., Military Secretary to His Excellency John A. Andrew, Mass. six hundred and sixty-six and two thirds pounds per

annum, At present prices, the bread thus consumed MORRIS ISLAND, S. C., October 13, 1863. by these worthless dogs would amount to a sum not Col. M. S. Littlefield, Commanding Fifty-fourth Mass.: less than forty-six hundred thousand dollars.

DEAR SIR: Complying with your request, I send This is the tribute we pay the dogs in the article of you the following history, pertaining to my birth, par- bread alone. How shall we estimate the amount of entage, social and religious experience and standing; meat they will consume, the amount of eggs they in short, a concise but brief epitome of my life, I un." suck," or the number of sheep they kill? Of how dertake to perform in my poor way. I was born in many pounds of wool, at three and a half dollars per Norfolk, Va., in 1840; my father's name was William pound, have these worthless canines deprived us ? Carney; my mother's name before her marriage was How many excellent pairs of cotton-cards have our Ann Dean, and she was the property of one Major noble women sought in vain to purchase, because the Carney; but at his death, she, with all his people, was million of dog-skins have not been pulled from worthby his will made free. In my fourteenth year, when less carcasses, dressed, and turned over to the manuI had no work to do, I attended a private and secret facturer ? Does this seem a subject too small to chalschool, kept in Norfolk by a minister. In my fifteenth lenge the attention of our legislators, or are our sage year I embraced the Gospel; at that time I was also representatives willing to pay the tribute for lusury engaged in the coasting trade with my father. atforded them by a pack of mangy canines ! So far

In 1856, I left the sea for a time, and my father set as we are concerned, individually, we have well-nigh out to look for a place to live in peace and freedom. arrived at the decision to vote for no man to represent He first stopped in the land of William Penn, Benja- the interests of his country in legislative assemblies

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who will not pledge himself hostile to this tremen- Crack went the unseen picce again, and some keendous canine tribute.

eyed fellow spied the smoke roll out from a litile

cedar. This wils the spot, then; the reb had made An editor, in announcing that he is drafted, dis- him a hawk's nest—in choice Indian, a Chattanooga

in the tree-and, drawing the green covert arounei courses as follows:

him, was taking a quiet hand at “steeple-shooting ” at “Why should we mourn conscripted friends, long-range. Or shake at draft's alarms?

A big, blue-eyed German, tall enough to look into 'Tis but the voice that Abram sends,

the third generation, and a sharp-shooter withal, volTo make us shoulder arms."

unteered to dislodge him. Dropping into a little run

way that neared the tree diagonally, he turned upon A Brave Loyal Boy.—Rev. John Summers, a home his back and worked himself cautiously along; reachmissionary in Benton County, Iowa, has three sons, all ing a point perilously close, he whipped orer, took of whom have been in the army of the country. One aim as he lay, and God and his true right hand gave is still in the service, one has been honorably dis- him good deliverance.” Away flew the bullet, a mincharged, and the third, a boy less than eighteen years

ute elapsed, the volume of the cedar partel ; and,

“ like a big frog," as the boys described it, out leaped of age, was mortally wounded at the battle of Cham. pion Hill. His funeral sermon was preached by Elder a grayback-the hawk's nest was empty, and a dead King. An immense audience was present. The fol- rebel lay under the tree. It was neatly done by the lowing is a copy of the last letter of the dying boy.German. May he live to tell the story a thousand It exhibits most remarkable coolness, and was written times to his moon-faced grandchildren! at his own dictation :

LEONARD GRENEWALD.—The destruction of the ponEAST OF ABILEK RIVER, Miss., May-11

, 1863.} toon-bridge and train at Falling Waters in July, 1863, DEAR PARENTS, BROTHERS, AND SISTERS: This is was one of the most daring exploits of the war, and the last letter you will receive from me. I am mor

the credit of it belongs mainly to Leonard Grenewald, tally wounded in the thigh, and mortification has al- chief of the Gray Eagle Scouts, and formerly of the ready commenced. I was wounded in two places, and Jessie Scouts. During previous trips he had ascerat the same time. As I said, one ball entered my tained the strength of the ground and location of the right thigh, glancing upward, shivering the bone of bridge, and finally obtained from General French a my hip, making it impossible to save my life by detail of two hundred men from the First Virginia amputation. The other ball entered just above my and Thirteenth and Fourteenth New-York cavalry, ankle, in the same leg. I suppose you are anxious to under Major Foley and Lieutenant Dawson, to underknow what my feelings are with the prospect of death take its destruction. They arrived at the Potomac in before me. I am resigned, and feel that my Heavenly the morning, just at daylight, and found the character Father sustains me in this trying hour.

of the bridge to be part trestle-work with pontoons in While lying on the battle-ground and the enemy the centre, which were carefully floated' out every were charging over me, I committed myself into the evening and taken to the Virginia shore, rendering hands of God, and felt that I was accepted. Don't the bridge useless for the night. Lieutenant Dawson mourn for me, I am going to a better land. I feel and Grenewald then swam the river, and brought back that I can trust Christ as my Saviour. In the hour several pontoons, with which they ferried over some of death my love for you all seems to be stronger forty of the detachment, being all that were willing to than when in health.

go. Arriving on the southern side, they surprised the I received your last letter to-day, also one from rebel camp, fired a volley into the sleeping rebels, and Lucy and Andy. Hoping you will be sustained in created an utter stampede. They captured about this affliction, I remain your affectionate and dying twenty rebels, including one officer. Then, destroying son and brother,

WILLIE SUMMERS. the camp, some stores, and four wagons of ammuni

tion, they took all the pontoons over the river, and

either burned or cut them to pieces. The balance of
AN INCIDENT AT CHATTANOOGA. --At one point there the bridge was destroyed, and the party came off with-
was a lull in the battle. At least, it had gone scatter- out the loss of a man. Grenewald desired to perform
ing and thundering down the line, and the boys were the same thing at Williamsport, but his party declined
as much " at ease as boys can be on whom, at any to back him up. He is one of the most daring and
moment, the storm may roll back again. To be sure, reliable of scouts, and does great service.
occasional shots, and now and then a cometary shell,
kept them alive; but one of the boys ran down to a
little spring, and to the woods where the enemy lay,

for water. He had just stopped and swung down his
canteen—"tick," and a Minié ball struck it at an angle

The following is the entire contribution of Mr. Car-
and bounded away. He looked around an instant, dis-lyle to Macmillan's Magazine:
covered nobody, thought it was a chance shot — a
piece of lead, you know, that goes at a killing rate

ILIAS (AJERICANA.) IN NUCE. without malice prepense; and so, nowise infirm of Peter of the North (to Paul of the South)—“ Paul, purpose, he bent to get the water. Ping ! a second you unaccountable scoundrel, I find you hire your servbullet cut the cord of his canteen, and the boy "got ants for life, not by the month or year, as I do! You the idea ;” a sharp-shooter was after him, and he went are going straight to hell, you - !” on the right-about on the double-quick to the ranks. Paul>" Good words, Peter! The risk is my own; A soldier from another part of the line made a pil. I am willing to take the risk. Ilire you your servants grimage to the spring, was struck, and fell by its by the month or day, and get straight to heaven ; leave brink. But where was the marksman ? Two or three me to my own method.” boys ran out to draw his fire while others watched.! Peter—"No, I won't. I will beat your brains out


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first!" (And is trying dreadfully ever since, but cannot Yes, 'twas South-Carolina – 'twas Charleston, no vet manage it.)

T. C.

doubtMay, 1863.

But changed — why has quite from my memory


For the whites now were “hired," as it straightway Let us attempt an "Hias Americana in Nuce," after

turned out, the manner of Mr. Carlyle.

“For life," by the blacks, to be labored and Peter of the South io Paul of the North—"You

whipped. miserable’ Yankee, you, why don't you defend your I've never been given, like you, to regard soil? Why not take Vicksburg ?

You have no cour

Men treated as beasts as a comical sight; age. I shall burn, ard slay, and lay waste, and—”

In the case, as it had been, of blacks, it seemed hard, Paul-" Suppose you try it."

And as hard it seemed now that the niggers wero [Gettysburg and Vicksburg ad interim.] Peter" You miserable Yankee, you have money,

white. but you have no courage. You are rich, but you are a coward; I shall fight to the last, I shall" But a negro, your namesake, was luckily by, Puul—"We shall see.”Philadelphia Press.

And this sablest of sages, oh ! how he did grin,

As I uttered my doubtings. “They men like us! why AN EPISODE IN THE “ILIAS (AMERICANA) IN NUCE.” The chattels! had they any black in their skin ? DIALOGUE.

Were they not white all over? What, had I no eyes ?

They fitted for freedom ! — why, where was their H. (an Englishman of great respectability, a member

wool ?" of the Carlton)" My dear fellow, you know I wish He couldn't help sneering out lofty surprise perdition here and hereafter to all Yankees; but did

That my brain could of such silly nonsense be full. you not begin this infernal row ?"

S. (a Southern agent)—“Of course we did. Every “ To be worked, to be walloped for nothing," he said, thing was at stake. A scoundrel of the old country

“ The eternities sent forth all whites — 'twas their scattered books up and down the States against Gig

doom." manity. He preached the doctrine of the old Scotch Just then an old graybeard was livelily led ploughman, “A man's a man for a' that.' He canted

To the block-ior an auction went on in the room ; about a judgment of God which came upon the French and think how I stared ! why, the chattel, alack ! nobles of the last century for denying that doctrine.

Yes, 'twas you—no mistake! — you put up there to Certain fools at the North fancied he was in earnest.

sell ! They believed what he told them, and said that they You grumbled—whack! down came the thong on your should act upon it. Idiot parsons went so far as to say that the words we use on Sunday about a Person

Good lord! how you, Thomas, did wriggle and yell ! who was put to death as a slave being the corner-stone of the universe were true. What could we do? It was My black sage looked on with a sneering disdain, a matter of life and death. We raised the shout for

Stepped up to the block and examined your mouth; Gigmanity. We affirmed that Slavery itself

, not the Poked your ribs with his stick; you objected in vainPerson who suffered the death of the slave, was the

“ Whites were made to be sarved so by blacks in corner-stone of the universe. These are our watch

the South." words. In this cause, and not, as some foolish friends A lively discussion around you arose, of ours represent, to vindicate our right to hire our

On the strength of your legs-on your age; thump servants for life, we have drawn the sword and flung

on thump. away the scabbard."

Tried to straighten you upright; one would tweak H. (much affected)—“Brave and noble men ! Cham

your nose ; pions of our interests as well as your own! You have

One hustled you down, just to see how you'd jump. not been exactly the friends of England, but we feel that we may embrace you as ours. Let us join solemn. 'Twas fun to their blackships, but Thomas, I've fears ly in drinking the toast. "The Cause of Gigmanity and

Your temper that moment was none of the best; Slavery, civil and religious, all the world over.'”

There was rage in your scowl; in your old eyes were [Hip, hip, hurrah, and exeunt.]

tears ; F. D. M.*

For it seems Mrs. Carlyle had just been sold West; And what might, too, put some hard words in your


Though it did not affect your black namesake the Peter of the North to Paul of the South—"Paul, you unac

least countable scoundrel, I find you hire your servants for life, not by the month or year, as I do."—[ Thomas Carlyle's “ American Master Carlyle was “hired for life," right down Iliad in a Nutshell," Macmillan's Magazine, August.]

South0 Thomas of Chelsea ! I've dreamed such a dream ! Miss Carlyle had been ditto right away East. I've been reading that dialogue, more smart than grave,

So you didn't jump lively, and laugh as you ought, In which you've so settled the case, as you deem,

Though, cursed in a whisper, you tried to look gay, Of North against South, and of Whip versus Slave. But at last for a rice-swamp you, Thomas, were bought, Excuse me,I wandered—I nodded—I dozed,

Or“bired for life," as your sageship would say; And straight to your Eden of fetters I flew,

Rather " hired for death”-so I dared to suggest; And scenes I saw stranger than you'd have supposed ;

But then, that's all right, as the world must have Bless your stars, brother Thomas, those scenes were

rice, not true!

If lives of old whites raise the whitest and best,

Why, we must have our crop, and we must pay the * Rev. F. D. Maurice, in the London Spectator.





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