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brief glance told a sweet story of home | midway, the rogue turned and shouted: joys. The witnessing tears that gushed "Good bye, boys; I'm bound for Dixie!" silently to the eyelashes, and trembled a "Come back, or we'll shoot!" answered moment there ere they were dashed gently the guard. "Shoot and be away, spoke louder than the father's words white livered nigger-thieves," shouted had spoken. But a moment more, and Black, and in the midst of a shower of the firm consent followed. It was such a consent as a hero's wife loves to give a hero. In yet another moment the mother steps quietly forward:

General Grant.

And

"Go, Ulysses, go, my dear son. may the blessing of Jehovah of hosts go with you!"

"I knew you would all consent," said the Captain, as he glanced his eye quickly and firmly to where some portions of his former armor were suspended; "for, if ever there was a just cause for fighting, it

is this in which I now volunteer."

Minie balls he reached his destination. He entered at once the Confederate ranks, and proved an active fighter. During the battle he performed many feats of daring, and at night formed one of a corporal's guard who escorted a full company of сарtured Federals off the hotly-contested ground. As Black was laughing and joking, the Captain of the Federals remarked to him:

"I ought to know that voice!-is that you, Black?"

"That's me!" jocosely replied the renegade Scotchman. "I couldn't stay with you, you see; it wasn't because I feared to fight, but I like to fight in the right cause always."

Singular enough, Black was escorting his old company, officers and all.

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Hopeful Tackett-his Mark. Hopeful Tackett sang the inspiring national anthem

"An' the Star-Spangler' Banger in triumph shall wave

o: the lan dov the free-e-e, an' the ho mov the brave,"

as he sat on his little bench in the little

shop of Herr Kordwaner, the village shoemaker. Thus he sang, not artistically, but In a few hours more Captain Grant with much fervor and unction, keeping was on his way to the capital and gov-time with his hammer, as he hammered ernor of the State.

away at an immense "stoga." And as he sang, the prophetic words rose upon the air, and were wafted, together with an odor of new leather and paste-pot, out of the window, and fell upon the ear of a ragged urchin with an armful of hand-bills.

Black. the Scotch Deserter at Leesburg. One of the Confederate soldiers in the Virginia army was a rough Scotchman named Black. His relatives were at the South, and, desiring to get to them, he had joined the Northern army, with the "Would you lose a leg for it, Hope?" intention of deserting at the first oppor- he asked, bringing to bear upon Hopeful a tunity. When on picket guard at the pair of crossed-eyes, a full complement of river, therefore, he pretended to bathe, white teeth, and a face spotted with its and being a good swimmer, dexterously kindred dust.

struck out for the Virginia shore. When "For the Banger?" replied Hopeful:

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-a defiant look, that said that he was not afraid of all that nose-took his hat down from its peg behind the door, and in spite of the bristling resistance of his hair, crowded it down over his head, and started for his supper. And as he walked he mused aloud, as was his custom, addressing himself in the second person, as follows:

Hopeful laid aside his hammer and his work, and picked up the hand-bill; and while he is reading it, take a look at him. Hopeful is not a beauty, and he knows it; and though some of the rustic wits call him "Beaut," he is well aware that they intend it for irony. His countenance runs too much to nose-rude, amorphous nose at that to be classic, and is withal rugged in Jing! (Hopeful had been piously brought

Hopeful Tackett.

'Hopeful, what do you think of it? They want more soldiers, eh? Guess them fights at Donelson and Pittsburg Lannen 'bout used up some o' them ridgiments. By

up, and his emphatic declarations took a mild form.) Hopeful, 'xpect you'll have to go an' stan' in some poor feller's shoes. "Twon't do for them there blasted Seceshers to be killin' off our boys, an' no one there to pay them back. It's time this here thing was busted! Hopeful, you an't pretty, an' you an't smart; but you used to be a mighty nasty hand with a shot gun. Guess you'll have to try your hand on old Borey's (Beauregard's) chaps, an' if you ever git a bead on one, he'll enter his land mighty shortly. What do you say to goin'?-you wanted to go last year, but mother was sick, an' you couldn't; an' now mother's gone to glory, why, show your grit an' go. Think about it, any how.'

And Hopeful did think about it-thought till late at night of the insulted flag, of the fierce fights and glorious victories, of the dead and the dying lying out in the pitiless storm, of the dastardly outrages of the

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outline and pimply in spots. His hair is decidedly too dingy a red to be called, even by the uttermost stretch of courtesy, auburn; dry, coarse, and pertinaciously ob- enemy-thought of all this, with his great stinate in its resistance to the civilizing efforts of comb and brush. But there is a great deal of big, honest bone and muscle in him, which are of great value in a good

cause.

warm heart overflowing with love for the dear old "Banger," and resolved to go. The next morning he notified the "boss" of his intention to quit his service for that of Uncle Sam. The old fellow only opened his eyes very wide, grunted, brought out the stocking (a striped relic of the departed town and wished to enlist recruits for Frau Kordwaner,) and from it counted out Company Regiment, it was nearly and paid Hopeful every cent that was due sunset; and he took off his apron, washed him.

By the time he had spelled out the handbill, and found that Lieut. was in

his hands, looked at himself in the piece

But there was one thing that sat Heavily

of looking-glass that stuck in the window upon Hopeful's mind. He was in a pre

deployed as skirmishers, to drive out the enemy.

"Now, boys," shouted the Captain, "after 'em! Shoot to kill, not to scare

"Ping! Ping!" rang the rifles. "Z-z-z-z-oit!" sang the bullets. On they went, crouching among the bushes, creeping along under the banks

dicament that all are liable to fall into-of glistening bayonets-it was only a skir he was in love, and with Christina, Herr mish, a bushwacking fight for the possesKordwaner's daughter. Christina was a sion of a swamp. A few companies were plump maiden, with a round, rosy face, an extensive latitude of shoulders, and a general plentitude and solidity of figure. All these she had; but what had captivated Hopeful's eye was her trim ankle, as it 'em!" appeared to him one morning, encased in a warm white yarn stocking of her own knitting From this small beginning, his great heart had taken in the whole of her, and now he was desperately in love. Two of the brook, cautiously peering from beor three times he had essayed to tell her of his proposed departure; but every time that the words were coming to his lips, something rushed up into his throat ahead of them, and he couldn't speak. At last, after walking home from church with her one Sunday evening, he held out his hand and blurted out

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hind trees in search of "butternuts." Hopeful was in the advance; his hat was lost, and his hair more defiantly bristling than ever. Firmly grasping his rifle, he pushed on, carefully watching every tree and bush. A rebel sharpshooter started to run from one tree to another, when, quick as thought, Hopeful's rifle was at his

Well, good-bye. We're off to-mor- shoulder, a puff of blue smoke rose from

row."

"Off! Where?" "I've enlisted."

Christina didn't faint. She didn't take out her delicate and daintily perfumed mouchoir to hide the tears that were not there. She looked at him for a moment, while two great real tears rolled down her cheeks, and then-precipitated all her charms right into his arms. Hopeful stood it manfully-rather liked it, in fact. But that is a tableau that may be left to the imagination, the tears and embraces, protestations of undying affection, promises of eternal remembrance, etc.

its mouth, and the rebel sprang in the air and fell back-dead. Almost at the same instant, as Hopeful leaned forward to see the effect of his shot, he felt a sudden shock, a sharp burning pain, grasped at a bush, reeled, and sank to the ground.

"Are you hurt much, Hope?" asked one of his comrades, kneeling beside him and staunching the blood that flowed from his wounded leg.

"Yes, I expect I am; but that red wamus over yonder's redder'n ever now. That feller won't need a pension."

They carried "Hope" back to the hos pital, and the old surgeon looked at the wound, shook his head, and briefly made his prognosis :

"Bone shattered-vessel injured-bad leg-have to come off. Good constitution, though; he'll stand it."

The next morning found Hopeful with a dozen others, in charge of the Lieutenant, and on their way to join the regiment, and as he went through the various duties and changing experiences of soldier life he would say, "Hopeful, the Banger's took care of you all your life, and now you're here to take care of it. See that you do it the best you know how.” But in his case the path to glory was not amid the Once more Hopeful is sitting on his litroar of cannon and muskets, through a tle bench in Mynheer Kordwaner's little storm of shot and shell, over a serried line shop, pegging away at the coarse boots,

And he did stand it; always cheerful, never complaining, only regretting that he must be discharged—that he was no longer able to serve his country.

singing the same glorious prophecy that he embrace his stump of a leg, gently patting was first heard singing. He had but two and stroking it, and talking to it as to a troubles after his return. One, the linger-pet. If a stranger was in the shop, he ing regret and restlessness that attend a would hold it out admiringly, and ask: civil life, after an experience of the rough, "Do you know what I call that? I call independent life in camp. The other that 'Hopeful Tackett-his mark!" trouble was when he first saw Christina And a mark of distinction-a badge of after his return. The loving warmth with patriotism and honor-it might well be which she greeted him pained him; and called.

when the worthy Herr considerately went

out of the room, leaving them alone, Hope- Substitute Broker Sold-"Indians" for the ful relapsed into gloomy silence. At length, speaking rapidly, and with choked utterance, he said:

Well, one

Army. Along the dock near the foot of First Street, Detroit, is a large wooden figure “Christie, you know I love you now, as of an Indian, embellished with all the trapI always have, better'n all the world. But pings of a Chippewa chief, and leaning I'm a cripple now-no account to nobody against the warehouse of -just a dead weight-an' I don't want day a stranger appeared in front of the you, 'cause o' your promise before I went provost-marshal's office, and beckoning to away, to tie yourself to a load that'll be a one of the substitute brokers hanging around drag on you all your life. That contract there, said to him, "You are in the substi—ah-promise—an't-is-is hereby re- tute business, I believe?" Being answered pealed! There!" affirmatively, he continued, "Do you take Indians?" "Oh, yes," said the broker. Well," inquired the stranger, "what will you give me if I tell you where you can Christie gently laid her hand upon his get one, sound in every respect, not liable shoulder, and spoke, calmly and slowly--to draft, and will go as a substitute, if "Hopeful, your soul was in that leg, accepted?" "Give you?" replied the was it?"

And he leaned his head upon his hands and wept bitter tears, wrung by a great agony from his loving heart.

It would seem as if Hopeful had always thought that such was the case, and was just receiving new light upon the subject, he started up so suddenly.

"By Jing! Christie!"

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broker, every feature in his face beaming with delight at the prospect of making a lucky strike, "give you! why, I'll give you a hundred dollars in greenbacks." "It's a bargain," said the stranger, and here they clasped hands fraternally over it. "Here's And he grasped her hand, and—but that my name,' he continued, handing the is also one of those scenes to be left to the broker a card, on which was pencilled imagination. And Christie promised the "Enoch Ketchum." "Take this to next Christmas to take the name, as she near the foot of First street, and tell them already had the heart, of Tackett. Herr that I sent you after that Indian; they will Kordwaner, too, had come to the conclu- understand it; and don't forget the hundred sion that he wanted a partner, and on the dollars when you get him through." "All day of the wedding a new sign was to be right," shouted the broker, as he jumped put up over a new and larger shop, on on board of a street car, on his way to the which "Co." would mean Hopeful Tackett. foot of First street. Having reached the In the mean time, Hopeful hammered warehouse, he presented his card, and inaway lustily, merrily, whistling and sing- formed the attendants of his mission. "Go ing the praises of the "Banger." Occa- right through the back door on to the dock, sionally, when resting, he would tenderly and turn to the left, and you will find the

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only Indian that I know anything about in incident occurred which seemed to warm this neighborhood," said the attendant. and gladden every loyal heart. Having followed directions, he soon came lady stepped from the crowd, went up to face to face with the Chippewa chief here- her betrothed, took him by the hand, and tofore referred to. Fully realizing the joke led him up to the stand, where the recruit. which had been played upon him, he went ing officers were taking the names of those back to the warehouse, and finding the who desired to enlist in the service of party laughing at his expense, he bawled their country. Having done this, and out: "That was well done, but that without seeming in the least abashed in wooden Indian is better than some live the presence of the large assembly, the men that have gone in as substitutes," and fair girl kissed him warmly, and then with left said dock in a hurry, occasionally cast- her own plighted hand gracefully placed ing a furtive glance around to see if any his hand on the roll, for him to sign his one he knew was interested in the sell. name. It was the rarest scene and subject for a painter-a fair and beautiful girl inspiring her lover to go forth to noble deeds for their common country! There was enthusiasm in that meeting.

Union Recruits among the Negroes. Some queer things now and then turn up, and the following is a pretty fair sample of the best:

A Tennessee slaveholder from the counry approached an old acquaintance, also a slaveholder, residing in Nashville, and said in quite a friendly and confiding man

ner:

Beauties of Rebel Conscripting. Early in the morning of Nov. 6th, 1861, the outside picket belonging to our army at Newport News, on the river, was hailed by a man who approached in a skiff of "I have several negro men lurking small size he proved to be a Virginian, about this city somewhere. I wish you by the name of Peter White, who escaped would look out for them, and when you from a rebel prison at Williamsburg, Va., find them, do with them for me as if they were your own."

"Certainly, I will," replied his friend. A few days afterward the parties met again, and the planter asked

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And where are they?"

"Well, you told me to do with them just as if they were my own, and, as I made my men enlist in the Union army, I did the same with yours."

He used to own a little schooner, the Maria Louisa, and traded up and down the James and York rivers, especially during the oyster season. He hardly ever slept on shore, making the schooner his real home, having his wife and two children with him. In April, 1861, when the enlistment in the rebel army was progressing favorably, some one made overtures to White about enlisting Being at heart a Union man, he did not feel inclined to do so, yet he wished, if possible, to save the

The astonished planter thoughtfully ab- schooner and its contents, that being all squatulated.

the property he owned in the world. He therefore ran into a little bay in the ChicPutting his Hand to the Roll. kahominy river, a small branch of the In one of the counties of Indiana a James, where he found a safe hiding-place. meeting was held by the patriotic citizens, At this time his wife died, and he had a for the purpose of getting volunteers, by good excuse in the care of his children the usual means of encouragement and for refusing to accept the offers of enlistpromise. After the matter had progressed ment, which were still occasionally made some time in the usual manner, a pleasant to him.

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