They came "the boys!" Six feet in stature, I vowed to Lou, behind my knitting, For boyhood is a thing immortal To her, no line comes sharply marking Now by the window, still and sunny, For Lou and I are now her daughters- Lou springs up to meet a footfall; Alway she speaks in gentle fashion AFTER THE BATTLE. "Brave Captain! canst thou speak? What is it thou dost see! A wondrous glory lingers on thy face, The night is past; I've watched the night with thee. Knowest thou the place?" "The place?" "Tis Fair Oaks, comrade. Is the battle over? The victory-the victory—is it won? My wound is mortal; I know I cannot recover- "I never thought it would come to this! Does it rain? The musketry! Give me a drink; ah, that is glorious! Now if it were not for this pain-this pain Didst thou say victorious? "It would not be strange, would it, if I do wander? "It can make no difference whether I go from here or there. Thou'lt write to father and tell him when I am dead?— The eye that sees the sparrow fall numbers every hair Even of this poor head. "Tarry awhile, comrade, the battle can wait for thee; "I must not think of it. Thou art sorry for me? "I do not think I have done so very much evilI did not mean it. 'I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul-just a little rude and uncivilComrade, why dost thou weep? "Oh! if human pity is so gentle and tender Good-night, good friends! I lay me down to sleep'— Who from a Heavenly Father's love needs a defender? 'My soul to keep!' ""If I should die before I wake'-comrade, tell mother, "Attention, company! Reverse arms! Very well, men; my thanks. Where am I? Do I wander, comrade-wander again?-Parade is over. Company E, break ranks! break ranks!I know it is the pain. "Give me thy strong hand; fain would I cling, comrade, to thee; I feel a chill air blown from a far-off shore; My sight revives; Death stands and looks at me. 16 What waits he for? Keep back my ebbing pulse till I be bolder grown; It's hard to struggle to the front, alone Comrade, thy hand. "The rereille calls! be strong my soul, and peaceful; The ringing air with ravishing melody is full- "Nay, comrade, let me go; hold not my hand so steadfast; ANGER AND ENUMERATION.-JAMES M. BAILEY. "THE DANBURY NEWS MAN." A Danbury man named Reubens, recently saw a statement that counting one hundred when tempted to speak an angry word would save a man a great deal of trouble. This statement sounded a little singular at first, but the more he read it over the more favorably he became impressed with it, and finally concluded to adopt it. Next door to Reubens lives a man who has made five distinct attempts in the past fortnight to secure a dinner of green peas, by the first of July, and every time has been retarded by Reuben's hens. The next morning after Reubens made his resolution this man found his fifth attempt to have miscarried. Then he called on Reubens. He said,— "What in thunder do you mean by letting your hens tear up my garden?" Reubens was prompted to call him a mud-snoot, a new name just coming into general use, but he remembered his resolution, put down his rage, and meckly observed,— "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight-" Then the mad neighbor who had been eyeing this answer with a great deal of suspicion, broke in again,— "Why don't you answer my question, you rascal?" But still Reubens maintained his equanimity, and went on with the test. "Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, six. teen-" The mad neighbor stared harder than ever. "Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one-" "You're a mean skunk," said the mad neighbor, backing toward the fence. Reubens's face flushed at this charge, but he only said,"Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six-" At this figure the neighbor got up on the fence in some haste, but suddenly thinking of his peas, he opened his mouth, "You mean, low-lived rascal; for two cents I could knock your cracked head over a barn, and I would-” "Twenty-seven, twenty-eight," interrupted Reubens, "twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three-" Here the neighbor broke for the house, and entering it, violently slammed the door behind him; but Reubens did not dare let up on the enumeration, and so he stood out there alone in his own yard, and kept on counting, while his burning cheeks and flashing eyes eloquently affirmed his judgment. When he got up into the eighties his wife came to the door in some alarm. "Why, Reubens, man, what is the matter with you?" she said. "Do come into the house." But he didn't let up. She came out to him, and clung tremblingly to him, but he only looked into her eyes, and said, Ninety-three, ninety-four, ninety-five, ninety-six, ninetyseven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred-go into the house, old woman, or I'll bust ye." And she went. FFF* THE SHADOW ON THE WALL. There is a shadow on the wall, I strive to shut it from my sight, Nor heart-nor tongue--can utter prayer; I wander, listless, through the street, There, many a well-known face I meet- It is her shadow that I see. Her shadow! Oh, so young and fair! My heart too black for her to share; How many years! how many years * * * * We stood upon the river's edge, The sunlight on its petals shone; He snatched in vain the bending reeds: |