When the flag went down the river

Man and master both were free,
While the ring-dove's note was mingled

With the rippling Tennessee.

Not nearly so often read as the foregoing, yet more artistically wrought out, and having an irresistible touch. of pathos at the close, is the following:

THE TALLEST SOLDIER OF THEM ALL.

How brave they looked with guns ashine,
With floating flag and pennon gay;
How firmly trod the martial line,

Through surging crowds along Broadway!
While women turned to say "Good-bye, '

Through tears that would unbidden fall,
waiting, watched and saw but one,

The tallest soldier of them all.

On tip-toe I had buckled close

A shoulder-strap that morn for him,
But scarce could see the simple clasp,
Through eyes with welling sorrow dim;
With sad adieu and backward glance,
He left me at the bugle's call,
To pray that God would watch and keep
The tallest soldier of them all.

With bated breath and soft foot-fall,
They followed through that narrow pass
The tallest soldier of them all.

Along the crags the stained vines,

Red with the ray October sheds,
Fluttered and swung their trembling spray
Around two crouching rebel heads.
Above the rock a flashing gleam,

Adown the glen a true sent ball,
And there outstretched lay stark and still
The tallest soldier of them all.

They brought him back, my gallant love,
With solemn step and bugle wail,
They bore him through the crowded street,
My soldier murdered in the vale⚫
Pallid and still he lay at rest,

Beneath the sacred, starry pall,
So low at last I stooped to kiss,

The tallest soldier of them all.

Mrs. Beers has written much verse, since early schooldays when the old garret was her sanctum, and her only advisers were those parental. Perhaps the most popular of her productions, since the war, is

WEIGHING THE BABY,

How many pounds does the baby weigh-
Baby who came but a month ago?
How many pounds from the crowning curl
To the rosy point of the restless toe?"
Grandfather ties the 'kerchief knot,

Tenderly guides the swinging weight,

And carefully over his glasses peers
To read the record. "only eight."

Softly the echo goes around :

The father laughs at the tiny girl; The fair young mother sings the words,

While grandmother smooths the golden curl.

And stooping above the precious thing,

Nestles a kiss within a prayer,

Murmuring softly "Little one,

Grandfather did not weigh you fair.”

Nobody weighed the baby's smile,

Or the love that came with the helpless one; Nobody weighed the threads of care,

From which a woman's life is spun.

No index tells the mighty worth

Of a little baby's quiet breath

A soft, unceasing metronome,

Patient and faithful until death.

Nobody weighed the baby's soul,

For here on earth no weights there be
That could avail; God only knows
Its value in eternity.

Only eight pounds to hold a soul

That seeks no angel's silver wing, But shrines it in this human guise. Within so frail and small a thing! Oh, mother! laugh your merry note;

Be gay and glad, but do n't forget From baby's eyes looks out a soul

That claims a home in Eden yet.

It was penned while the author was a guest at a country home, where the infant of the household had been weighed the same morning. Nearly every newspaper reader is familiar with it, as also with the following, entitled

GRANNIE'S TEST.

Dear Grannie is with us no longer,

Her hair that was white as the snow
Was parted one morning forever,

On her head lying softly and low;
Her hands left the Bible wide open,
To tell us the road she had trod,
With waymarks like footsteps to show us
The path she had gone up to God.
No wonderful learning had Grannie,
She knew not the path of the stars,
Nor aught of the comet's wide cycle
Nor Nebula's dim cloudy bars,
But she knew how the wise men adoring
Saw a star in the East long ago,
She knew how the first Christmas anthem
Came down to the Shepherds below.

She never had heard of Hugh Miller,
Nor knew what philosophers said;
The birthday of earth was a problem

Which never disturbed her old head.
About the Pre-Adamite fossils

No mental disturbance she knew,
Holding fast to her faith pure and holy,

That her God-given Bible was true.

t

She had her own test, I remember

For people, who e'er they might be.
When we spoke of the strangers about us,
But lately come over the sea;

Of "Laura," and " Lizzie," and "Jamie, "
And stately old "Essellby Oakes, '
She listened and whispered it softly—

"My dear, are these friends meetin'-folks?”
When our John went away to the city
With patrons, whom all the world knew
To be sober and honest, great merchants,
For Grannie this all would not do

Till she 'd pulled at John's sleeve in the twilight
To be certain, before he had gone;

And he smiled as he heard the old question

Are you sure they 're meetin'-folks, John?"

When Minnie came back from the city,

And left heart and happiness there,

I saw her close kneeling by Grannie,

With the dear wrinkled hands on her hair;
And amid the low sobs of the maiden

Came softly the tremulous tone-
"He was n't like meetin'-folks, Minnie ;
Dear child, you are better alone. "

And now from the corner we miss her,

We hear that reminder no more ;

But still, unforgotten, the echo

Comes back from the far-away shore,

Till Sophistry slinks in the corner,

Tho' Charity sweet has her due,

Yet we feel, if we want to meet Grannie,
'T were best to be meetin'-folks, too!