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None but the truculent foe

And the merciless rush of the water.

Where could be found braver men? Braver men ne'er were in battle; Who drove them into the pen,

There to be slaughtered like cattle?

Two thousand men against six,
Led as the blind lead the blind;
Two thousand men hemmed in by six,
And the rushing river behind.

The rushing river behind,

And the furious foe beforeWho could have ever divined That these were the perils of war?

Six thousand rifles ahead,

And behind them a river like Styx, Gulphing the wounded and deadGod pity the two against six.

A river as fatal as Styx,

With a heart dying out on each wave, Till the blood, where the streams intermix, Is swollen with the blood of the brave.

The stain of the sorrow and shame

Is mixed with the stain of the slaughter, And the dead hearts write vainly a name On the face of the innocent water.

For no one's to blame, and yet,

Who issued the murderous order? We men may forgive and forget, But not the Eternal Recorder.


The war, if it results in wounds and death, also produces much exquisite poetry. The solitude of the camps, the thought of absence from friends and home, the expectation of battle, and all the natural risks incident to the life of a soldier, are well calculated to inspire serious and sentimental reflection. The apprehension of parents and friends that military experience leads to dissipation and recklessness, is not, generally, well founded. Many who, at home, are not in the habit of thinking of religion, or of their own future state, meditate profoundly upon these things amid the loneliness of camp life. The following beautiful lines were written by a private in Company G of Stuart's En gineer regiment, at Camp Lesley, near Washington. In explanation of one of the verses of the poem, it is right to state that white rags are frequently scattered along the sentinel's path, of a dark night, to mark his beat.—Philadelphia Press.

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He has leapt in his fears from our vision to fade;
And the flag of secession in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the freed and the home of the brave.

and comprehensive, the illustrations are numerous, and the notes just such as the student may need. The examples in parsing are mostly new, and the book will show on almost every page that it is a Southern work by a Southern author. We appeal to

Oh, such is the welcome the Southron bestows

On the minions who strive to make slaves of a teachers and to all others interested in the cause of Southern education, to sustain us in this attempt to furnish school-books for our people. Let us have no more school-books or teachers from the North. Let our divorce from those fanatics who have grown rich upon our industry, and who are now seeking to subjugate us, be extended to our literature in all its

We've a hand for our friends but the sword for our

And the charge of our soldiers in fierce exultation;
Then again to the fight,

And God for the right,

And the Northmen shall shrink from our warriors' departments. The price of the Grammar will be seventy-five cents. Liberal arrangements made to supply schools, &c., &c. Booksellers furnished at a liberal discount. We have also in preparation from the same author, a new speller.



And the flag of secession in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the freed and the home of the brave.

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SOUTHERN ENGLISH GRAMMAR.-The undersigned have now in press, and about the 1st day of September next will publish, a new Southern English Grammar, by the Rev. Allen M. Scott, D.D., late President of South Gibson College Tennessee. Dr. Scott is a Tennessean by birth and education, and he has been a practical teacher in various parts of the South and West for thirty years. He has made English Grammar a specialty, and, perhaps, has taught that science to more persons than any other in the Southern confederacy. The forthcoming work has been examined in MSS. by many critics, and in every instance pronounced to be eminently adapted to the purposes of school instruction. The rules are brief

NEW SOUTHERN STYLES.-Miss M. Perdue, 326 Main Street, is now prepared to present to the ladies of Memphis and vicinity the Southern styles, gotten up expressly for Southern wear. We no longer will (or can) depend upon New York for our styles and fashions, which never did suit our climate or our people. We will have our opening of fall millinery on Saturday, October 5. We ask you, ladies, one and all, to call and examine our goods, and then decide for yourselves if Memphis has not outdone any thing New York could ever present to the South.-Memphis Appeal, Oct. 22.

MARTIAL MUSIC.-In the programme of a concert recently given in the interior of Georgia, we find the following: "Battle of Manassas, Descriptive Fantasia, Soldier's March in Camp, Cannon's Booming, Call the Alarm, Yankee Doodle Advancing, Dixie Answering, Yankee Doodle and Dixie Fighting, Dixie played on the Right Hand, Yankee Doodle on the Left Hand, Yankee Doodle Running, Dixie Victorious, Sweeping the Field."—Illinois State Journal, Nov. 6.


A PREDICTION FULFILLED.-A correspondent of the Cincinnati Gazette, writing from Nolin, Ky., "On his memorable journey home from Washington, shortly before his death, Senator Douglas remarked to a distinguished Kentuckian whom he chanced to meet at Indianapolis, 'I know your man Breckinridge better than you do yourselves. Mark my words, sir; within a year from this time John C. Breckinridge will be a General in the rebel army!' The result shows how thoroughly Mr. Douglas did know his former friend. The year is but half passed since the prediction was made, and to-day Mr. Breckinridge holds a position as Brigadier-General in the rebel army under Buckner, at Bowling Green."

AN INCIDENT.-As the fleet of transports was passing down the Chesapeake Bay to Hampton Roads, on that beautiful day in October when we first got under weigh at Annapolis, a large bald eagle came sweeping out from the shore of Maryland, and soaring high in air above the fleet, finally alighted on the masthead of the Atlantic, the head-quarters of the army. In an instant all eyes were upon him, and conjectures were busy as to whether he were a loyal bird, come to give his blessing at parting, or a secession rooster, intent on spying out our strength. We gave the bird the benefit of the doubt; an officer peremptorily stayed the hand of a soldier who would have shot


him, and we accepted the omen as auguring the full success of our enterprise.-Leavenworth (Kansas) Times, Nov. 22.

GEORGIA IN THE WAR.-From the annual report of the Comptroller-General of the State of Georgia we learn that she has now in the field thirty-four full regiments, (some more than full,) and four partially filled regiments, together with three battalions and other independent companies in Virginia and Georgia, amounting in all to about forty regiments in the And besides this, Confederate Government service. three regiments now in the State service are to be increased at once to six regiments, for the defence of her sea-coast.-Richmond Examiner, Oct. 29.




fell to Billy's lot. Billy held them up before him.
"Jimmy," said he, "those are pretty bags to give a
little fellow like me. Them stockings was knit for
the President or a young gorilla, certain ;" and he
was about to bestow them upon Cradle when a soldier
in the opposite predicament made an exchange.
"Them stockings made me think of the Louisiana
scared so the other day," said Billy.
"He was among our pris-
"How's that?" said I.
He never said a word till
oners, and saw a big pair of red leggings, with feet,
hanging up before a tent.
he saw the leggings, and then he asked me what they
were for. Them,' said I, 'them is General Banks'
stockings.' He looked scared. He's a big man, is
General Banks,' said I, 'but then he ort to be, the
How?' said he. Why,' said I, 'his
way he lives.'
regular diet is bricks buttered with mortar.'”
next day Billy got a present of a pair of stockings
from a lady; a nice soft pair with his initials in red
silk upon them.-He was very happy.
said he," just look at them," and he smoothed them
down with his hand-" marked with my initials, too;
'B' for my Christian and 'W' for my heathen name.
How kind! They came just in the right time, too;
I've got such a sore heel; for it's a fact, Jimmy, that
if there's any thing in life worse than unrequited
love, it's a sore heel." Orders came to "fall in."
Billy was so overjoyed with his new stockings he
"keep your place, and don't
didn't keep the line very well. "Steady, there,"
growled the sergeant,
be travelling around like the Boston Post Office."
"What is it, Billy,"
We were soon put upon double-quick. After a few
minutes Billy gave a groan.
said I. "It's all up with them," said he. I didn't
know what he meant, but his face showed something
very bad had happened.


When we broke ranks Billy hurried to the tent, and when I got there, there he stood, the very picture of despair, with his shoes off, and his heels shining through his stockings like two crockery door"Them new stockings of yours is breechknobs. loading, ain't they, Billy?" said an unfeeling volun"Better get your name on both ends, so you can keep them together," said another. "Shoddy stockings," said a third. Billy was silent; I saw his heart was breaking, and I said nothing. We held a council on them, and Billy, not feeling strong-hearted enough for the task, gave them to Cradle with directions to sew up the small holes. I came into the tent "That's a good porsoon after, and he was drawing a portrait, with a piece of charcoal, on a board. trait of Fremont," said I, "he looks just like that; that's the way he parts his hair, in the middle." "That isn't a portrait of Fremont," said Billy, "it's a map of the United States; that line in the middle you thought was the upper part in his hair, is the Mississippi River."

"Oh!" said I. I saw him again before supper; "Jimmy," said he, "you know I he came to me, looking worse than ever, the stockings in his hand. gave them to Cradle and told him to sew up the "It's a hard case, small holes, and what do you think he's done? He's gone and sewed up the heads." Jimmy," said I, "in such a case tears are almost justifiable."

CAMP PHRASES.—An enterprising publisher might make money by getting up a camp dictionary for the benefit of those who visit the army, and are mystified by the extraordinary words and phrases used. The word arms" has been distorted into "uum," brought forcibly forth like the last groan of a dying cat, and in place of "march" we hear "utch." A tent is jocularly termed "the canvas," a sword is a "toad-sticker," and any of the altered patterns of "howitzers." Mess beef is muskets are known as "salt horse," coffee is "boiled rye," vegetables are Bully" 66 cow feed," and butter "strong grease." is the highest term of commendation, while dissent is expressed in the remark "I don't see it." Almost every regiment has its nickname, and few officers or privates receive their legal appellations or titles when spoken of in their absence.-Cincinnati Commercial, Nov. 20


The Boston Post has the following Mark Tapley species of letter from one of its correspondents: CAMP GUNPOWDER, ARMY OF THE POTOMAC, November, 1861.


DEAR MESSRS. EDITORS: Billy Briggs and I still remain in the army. The other morning I was stand"Hand me them scabing by him in our tent. "Scabbards!" said I, look-teer. bards, Jimmy," said he. ing round. Yes, boots, I mean." Billy arranged himself in his scabbards-a dilapidated pair of fashionable boots-and stood up in a very erect and dignified manner. "Those boots of mine, I don't think were any relation to that beef we had for dinner today, Jimmy," said he. "No," said I. "If they were only as tough as that beef, and vice versa, it would have been better."

"I say, Cradle," he called out, "where are you?" Cradle was our contraband, a genuine darkey, with a foot of extraordinary length and extra heels to match, giving him a queer look about those extremities. What do you call him Cradle for, Billy?" "What would you said I, "that's a queer name." call him, Jimmy? if he ain't a cradle, what's he put on rockers for?" Cradle appeared with a pair of 66 It's no use," ," said Billy, lookperforated stockings. ing at them. "Them stockings will do to put on a sore throat, but they won't do for feet. It's a humiliation for a man like me to be without stockings; a man may be bald-headed, and it's genteel, but to be barefooted is ruination. The sleeves is good, too," | he added, thoughtfully, "but the feet are gone. There is something about the heels of stockings and the elbows of stovepipes in this world, that is all wrong, Jimmy."

A supply of stockings had come that day, and were just being given out; a pair of very large ones

BATTLE OF LEESBURG.-One personal encounter is As Captain Jones, of Company worthy of record. B, Seventeenth Mississippi, was passing through the woods at the head of his men, he met another party headed by an officer. The two halting instantly upon

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