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Till the eyes see only a sky blue frame, And a lurid picture of smoke and flame.

And the air grows dense with a thousand sighs, And shriek's defiance in shrill death-cries.

And blood lies black in horrible streams,
And we think we are dreaming fearful dreams.
But our wheels are strong, our axles sound,
And over the sea we merrily bound.

What do we care for the bursting shell? We know its music, and love it well.

What do we care for sighs and groans,
For mangled bodies and shattered bones?
We laugh at danger, and scorn mischance,
We who drive the Ambulance.

Through rattling bullets and clashing steel, We steadily guide the leaping wheel.

Writhing in agony they lie,
Cursing the Ambulance, praying to die.
While some in a dreamy deathlike trance,
Bleed life away through the Ambulance.
Hurrah! Hurrah! Up bands and play!
We're leading a glorious life to-day.

For war is play and life a chance,
And 'tis merry to drive the Ambulance.

- Vanity Fair.

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You have heard the ancient proverb, and, tho' old, it's very good, THE ADVENTURES OF THE C. S. A. COM- Which hints "That it's better not to crow until MISSIONERS.

you've left the wood: "

But they somehow 'scaped the Union ships, and hoped on some fine day

To land in Europe and to "blow" about the C. S. A.

Declared that running the blockade was a thing by no means hard,

And boasted of the victories won by their valiant Beauregard :

They safely got to Cuba, and landed in Havana; Described the power and glory of New Orleans and Savannah;

Davis's skill in government could never be surpassed

The amazing strokes of genius by which he cash amassed;

Foreign bankers would acknowledge ere a month had passed away,

That the true financial paradise was in the C. S. A.

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And so it proved with these two gents, for at that moment-souse!

A cannon-shot fell splash across the steamer's bows The San Jacinto came up close, and tho' rather rude,

'tis true,

Good Wilkes he hailed the Trent and said, “I'll thank you to heave to;

"If you don't give up two rascals, I must blow you right away,


"Mason and Slidell they're named, and they're from the C. S. A. !"

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'Stead of bothering you, and sharing your prison | He's stern with small boys, and with weak-minded beds and fetters,

We'll write each mail from Europe the most delightful letters:

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Not the stage stick, who strides, and who stalks, and who slides,

And who whispers her "points," and who yells her "asides;

Nor the stick of long peppermint, painted with stripes; Not the gingerbread stick, nor the stick used for types;

Nor the sticks in the pile where the Afric was found; Nor the sticks up in steeples, nor sticks underground; Nor the mock-auction stick with his blarney and tricks,

Where Rural was stuck with his hat full of bricks, And with knife, minus blades, and with watch, minus ticks;

Nor the sticks used for walking, nor Stygian Styx; Nor the sticks of ratan, which the school-marms


But the stick of all sticks-Le Baton Militaire.

He's a soft sort of one, he's a slippery one-
He looks as if Nature had made him in fun.
He's as noisy as juveniles full of their tricks,
When they rattle the railings with riotous sticks.
He's as proud as a peacock, with tail in full glory;
He's as proud as a rebel, or Tennessee tory,
When he boasts of a theft, or a massacre gory.
He walks like a duck, or he moves around you,
With a hop, skip, and jump, like a wild kangaroo,
And his brass-buttoned coat-tail incessantly swings,
Like a mule's or a bull's when the blue-bottle stings;
Or he stands like a cow, when considering her cud,
If his bright patent leathers are sprinkled with mud,
And pricks up his ears at the mention of blood.


Like an owl sitting on the same perch with a wren; But he's affable, loud, when with drunkards and gluttons,

And his breast, like a Poeter's, swells under its buttons.

He hates all that "nonsense" the ladies prepare, With stockings and shirts for sick soldiers to wear. He's sour if they're homely, he's sweet if they're fair;

He's the stick of all sticks,-Le Baton Militaire.

He turns up his nose at the city parade,
And the stay-at-home guards, for reception arrayed;
The "feather-bed knights," as he calls them with


Who dare not to battle, like bold grenadiers;
Too mean their own guns and equipments to buy,
Rush out to the war-ground, and conquer or die,
In defence of the homes of the wealth-rolling Jews,
Who, a cent to contribute most calmly refuse.
He roars of great battles he never did see,-
How the "Tenth" were destroyed-how the rebels
did flee-

And swears, that, if Wool makes a contraband free, He will go (Le Baton will) where white people be. He laughs at a wound, tho' he never has felt it, And glories in blood, tho' he never has smelt it. With a shrug of his shoulders that rustles his "bobs," He wonders, "what next from the Cabinet snobs ? "Will Russell (the Cockney!) be thrown in the sea?" "Will the princes of Bourbon both Brigadiers be?" Le Baton most familiarly nicks the high names; Says, "the old codger (Scott) is always up with his sprains; "Little Mac," for McClellan, for Seward, says "Billy." Talks of "Johnnie Fremont," and of "Jessie, his filly."

And all of these things with a sodlier-like air, With a swagger and swell and a saucer-eyed stare, As becomes the great stick-Le Baton Militaire.

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Macaulay gave glory to Hall of Navarre
With his oriflamme plume, as a signal afar,
For the thick of the scrimmage-the tide of the war;
But, bless you, 'twas nought to the one I exalt
In the praise of this hero, who never cries "Halt!"
"Nor "Charge!" for that matter, (for Marshal Baton
Doesn't command,) but he still is the pride of my


He follows the progress of fleeting events,
Without stirring a peg in his country's defence.
He quotes you Hardee, twirling up his moustache,
And tells you how to smoke out the traitorous batch,
As easy as swallows are smoked from a thatch.
You never will see him in battle engaging,

But he's been (so he says) where 'twas very near raging.

You may see him, however, on every street,
With his epaulettes bright and uncommonly neat-
Ready dressed and prepared the invader to meet.
So glory at least, to whom glory is due,
And why not for him with the coat, brass, and blue?
Oh! why not for him, with the heart-not the hand-
To sweep the Secessionists out of the land?
Oh! why not for him with the brow-beating stare-
The Stick animated, with blood-thirsty air?
Why not for the stick-Le Baion Militaire?
-Cincinnati Times, Nov. 25..

A REBEL BURLESQUE on generaL SHERMAN'S PROCLA- by most of the renegades who have lifted their traitor


hands against their native State, and all hesitating Union men may see from it what they have to expect if they shall ever be placed at the mercy of such men as our quondam acquaintance:


PORT ROYAL, CAMP LOAVES AND FISHES. To the Loyal Ladies of the Sea Island:Having been long familiar with your soft feather beds, well-supplied tables, beautiful flowers, and hospitable smiles, more charming even than your fish and game, we entreat you, with every assurance of our most tender regard, to come and partake of some of the delicacies which we have appropriated by a "military necessity."

It really grieves our loving hearts to live on the fat of your land while you are houseless, particularly when we have so often boasted of your hospitality, and been your honored guests, year after year, "without money and without price.'


If you decline this affectionate overture remember that we are cognizant to every creek and every corner in your larders; we know all your little rivers of milk and honey, the small hillocks of fresh butter, and the promontories of orange preserve jars, and we will appropriate them all to the glory of Abraham the First.

On the other hand, if you will only separate yourselves from the rebel husbands, sons, and brothers, who are behaving so improperly to our blessed Government, by fighting for your homes and your honor, you shall be taken to our affectionate embrace, and boquets of roses, such as you used to place around our firesides, and on our toilet tables, shall be showered upon you. Yours, with sacred memories, CHAS. O. BUTTERWELL & Co.

-Charleston Courier.

WHEN Col. Corcoran, while a prisoner at Richmond, Va., was told that he was to be hung if one of the privateers on trial at the North was selected for punishment by death, he said:

"Well, sir, I am ready; when I engaged in this war I made up my mind to sacrifice my life, if necessary, in defence of that flag under which I have lived and gained an honorable position."-Buffalo Courier, Dec. 9.

NORFOLK, Nov. 18, 1861.

THE news of the arrival in Hampton Roads of Ministers Slidell and Mason, also their secretaries, in the United States frigate San Jacinto excited considerable interest here on Saturday night and yesterday. It is stated by a gentleman from Old Point that six shots were fired between the two vessels. It is also reported that the papers of the Ministers were not | taken, and that the ladies connected with the party were allowed to proceed on the voyage.-Richmond Dispatch.

THE SPIRIT OF THE REBELS.-The subjoined intercepted letter from James Blackburn to his wife has been sent to us by Gen. Nelson with a request that it shall be published. In complying with the request we omit portions of the letter which are strictly of a private nature, and publish only such parts as exhibit a fiendish hatred toward men in Kentucky who have only offended in remaining loyal to their country and State. James Blackburn was a schoolmate of the editor, and our personal relations were friendly. He is a son of Edward Blackburn of Woodford County, and a brother-in-law of Thompson Flournoy, of Arkansas, in which State he has himself resided for several years. We have no doubt that the devilish and murderous spirit exhibited by the latter are shared

ABINGTON, VA., Oct. 2, 1861. MY DEAR WIFE: I have left you and our children in the land of the despot, but God grant that I may soon be able to make the Union men of Kentucky feel the edge of my knife. From this day I hold every Union traitor as my enemy, and from him I scorn to receive quarter, and to him I will never grant my soul in death, for they are cowards and villains enough. Brother Henry and I arrived here without hindrance. I have had chills all the way, but I hope to live to kill forty Yankees for every chill that I ever had. I learn that Hardee is still in the Arkansas lines inactive, and if this proves to be true, I will tender my resignation and go immediately to Kentucky. I hope I will do my duty as a rebel and a freeman. Since I have the Union men of Kentucky I intend to begin the work of murder in earnest, and if I ever spare one of them may hell be my portion. I want to see Union blood flow deep enough for my horse to swim in. Your husband, JAMES BLACKBURN.

-Maysville Eagle, Nov.

CONDEMNED OUT OF THEIR OWN MOUTHS-In the instructions which Mr. Toombs, as Secretary of State, gave to privateers, we find the following passage: "Neutral vessels, conveying enemies' despatches, or military persons in the service of the enemy, forfeit their neutral character, and are liable to capture and condemnation." If we had applied this general rule to the Trent, she would have been lying in one of our harbors as a prize.-Cincinnati Times, Dec. 2.

A NEW WAY TO OBTAIN LIQUOR.-The expedients of soldiers to obtain liquor seem inexhaustible. A Paducah correspondent of the St. Louis Republican says the other day a man started out with his coffeepot for milk; and on his return, an officer suspecting him for having whiskey in his can, wished to examine it, and the man satisfied him by pouring out milk. At night there was a general drunk in that soldier's quarters, ending in a fight. It was at last discovered that the man had put a little milk into the spout of his can, sealing the inside with bread, and filling the can with whiskey. That man is "cute" enough to lead an expedition against Jeff. Thompson.-Louisville Journal, Nov. 30.

The Richmond Examiner tells with solemn horror that "Lincoln's soldiers" at Harper's Ferry amuse themselves by lying in wait and shooting the little fair-haired girls of the village on their way to school. It mentions the names of two or three innocent little victims, and tells the vile lie with such an air of sincerity that no doubt many of its readers believe it.— Baltimore American, Dec. 7.

A CURIOUS COINCIDENCE.-In the first volume of "Bancroft's History of the United States," page 26, occurs the following singular passage:

"For an agricultural colony, a milder climate was desirable; in view of a settlement at the South, De Monts explored and colonized for France, the rivers, the coasts, and the bays of New England, so far, at least, as Cape Cod. The numbers and hostility of the savages led him to delay a removal, since his

colonists were so few. Yet the purpose remained. | Thrice in the spring of the following year did Dupont, his lieutenant, attempt to complete the discovery. Thrice he was driven back by adverse winds, and at the third time his vessel was wrecked. Poutrincourt, who had visited France, and was now returned with supplies, renewed the design; but meeting with disasters on the shoals of Cape Cod, he, too, returned to Port Royal. Thus the first settlement on the American Continent had been made-two years before James River was discovered, and three years before a cabin had been raised in Canada."

The name of Dupont in connection with a naval expedition at Port Royal, in 1605, and with another and greater two hundred and fifty years later, is one of those curious coincidences in which the muse of history loves to indulge. If the first had succeeded in his efforts to possess the New England shores, who can tell what would have been the effect upon the destinies of this continent? If the second had failed in entering Port Royal harbor, how differently the future annals of the Republic might read! If Port Royal menaced New England in 1605, the tables have been turned in 1861.-Philadelphia Press.

JOHN MILLIKEN, who was formerly the Postmaster at Paducah, has met a deserved fate. Since secession was first planned in Kentucky he has been among the foremost in the rebellion, and when the Federal troops were about to oocupy his town he left for Mayfield, and has since then been unscrupulous and unsparing in his persecution of every one who was loyal to his country. On Tuesday of last week he entered a house where he found two Union men, and commenced in the most vituperative language threaten them, and, having lashed himself into fury, he finally struck one of them. As quick as the thunder follows the lightning's flash, the report of a musket was heard, and the ruffian received its entire contents, killing him instantly. This terrible retribution will, it is hoped, have the effect to deter others from the commission of similar outrages. While the Union men in that vicinity are disposed to be peaceable, the secessionists are violent, turbulent, and aggressive. Our friends are extremely anxious to reach Paducah, that they may join Col. Williams' regiment, but the rebels will not permit them to leave their homes, and they subject them to all kinds of indignities. The Colonel has four or five complete companies, and they are a terror to the secessionists, because they will be able to identify them and bear piv-witness against them for their ruthless deeds. In view of the great importance of having a full regiment recruited from the First district, we hope the Military Board will make an exceptional case in favor of Col. Williams, and give him an extension of time instead of consolidating his companies into some other regiment. They know every foot of ground in the infected district south of the Tennessee River, and in a short time they will be able to clear it of every sneaking rebel who is now committing depredations. The fate of Milliken shows that the Unionists there are resolute, and they only need a little more strength and organization to protect theinselves fully. Louisville Journal, Nov. 25.

IN Eastport, Me., a general news despatch is received every evening, and at the sound of a bell, the people collect and listen to the last news. An officer passes through the crowd, and takes a contribution to defray the expenses of telegraphing.-Cincinnati Times, Dec. 3.

BURSTING THE GREAT GUN.-A Columbus (Ky.) correspondent says:

"A most painful accident occurred here late yesterday, (Nov. 11th,) being the explosion of the big ot-gun, the 128-pounder, that has so frequently made the hills and valleys for thirty miles around Columbus reëcho with its potent voice. The gun had been loaded during the progress of the battle of the 6th, while hot; but no opportunity offering itself in the latter part of the day to use it to advantage against the enemy, it was allowed to remain loaded up to yesterday afternoon. I am told that Gen. McCown assured the gunners that the piece would explode, supporting himself with a lucid explanation of the principles on which he based his supposition; but the huge proportions of the gun were supposed to be a sufficient protection to those around against the mine of saltpetre imbedded in the breech; and the gun was fired, exploded, and caught the magazine belonging to the piece, which lay immediately beneath the gun, killing eight men, among whom were Lieutenant of Artillery Snowden, and John Dublin, a citizen of Columbus, and seriously wounding five others, among whom are Maj.-Gen. Polk, who was knocked senseless by the concussion, having his clothes literally torn off him. Captains of Artillery Rueker and Miller, were seriously, though not dangerously wounded, and Capt. Pickett, of the Sappers and Miners, considerably bruised by the concus. sion."-Memphis Appeal, Nov. 14.

cited, and when talking, used language which convinced Mr. Rodgers that he was not exactly what he professed to be. Arriving at Paducah, Mr. R. called the attention of the Provost Marshal to the circumstance, when the old man was identified as a colonel in the Confederate Army. He was taken into custody, and is still at Paducah. He was at the Bull Run Battle.-Louisville Journal, Nov. 30.

A CHAPLAIN CAPTURES A COLONEL.-While the Rev. J. D. Rodgers, Chaplain of the Twenty-third Indiana Regiment, was on his was from conference at Rockport, Indiana, to Paducah some weeks ago, an old gentleman came on board the boat at Henderson who attracted his attention. He was dressed like an ordinary farmer, and in conversation appeared to be not very bright. At length, however, he became exVOL. III.-POETRY 10

BY F."

With his hands by the blood of slain thousands made

And the signet of Hell on his brow,
The branded arch-traitor now sleeps with the dead,
By the arm of Jehovah laid low.

He has bartered his soul for the sceptre of State,

Which to him proved the thing of a day;
And the Union still lives for a destiny great,
And will stand till Earth passes away;

For the great God of Hosts watches over our land,

And protects it from every foe;
And He'll ever crush those, with omnipotent hand,
Who would Freedom's fair fabric o'erthrow.

Written while the report of his death was in circulation and fully credited.

NATIONAL PRISONERS.-A writer in the Savannah (Georgia) Republican asks the question: "How shall we dispose of the prisoners?"-and answers it as follows:

"Let the Quartermaster-General of the Confederate States issue his proclamation stating that the prisoners will be hired out to the highest bidder for some specified time, and in such number as the hirer may desire. I know of a gentleman of this city, a rice planter, who would gladly take two hundred of the Yankees on his plantation to build up and mend the dams of his fields. He is more desirous of doing this, he says, as the Northern gazettes have long asserted that we can do without negro labor, and he is anxious of testing the question. One good black driver to every forty Yankees would insure good order and lively work among them."

MRS. L. VIRGINIA SMITH, a lady of decidedly literary talent and reputation, has written a series of lectures, appropriate and relating to the times, which it is her intention to deliver through the principal cities in the South-the proceeds to be appropriated to the purchase of winter clothing for the Confederate soldiers in Missouri.-Balt. American, Sept. 4.

BORGIA AT THE SOUTH.-The rebels are repeating their attempts at poisoning. The Louisville Democrat makes the following statement: "While a young man named Bennett, member of Captain Dill's Company of the Twenty-fourth Indiana regiment, was walking backward and forward as sentinel, outside of Lafayette Park, St. Louis, near the entrance, he was approached by a young man, who, with a friendly face, asked the sentinel if he did not feel weary, to which the soldier replied, 'Yes, I do feel a little tired,' when the kind-faced stranger, after a word or two of further conversation, asked him if he would not accept a piece of his pie. The sentinel thanked him with heartfelt gratitude, and ate the pie. Shortly afterward he was seized with convulsions, and was carried by his comrades to the hospital tent. The physician of the regiment found that he was poisoned with strychnine.'

One of these rebel Borgias, however, met a sudden fate, a few days since, in the Federal camp at ey's Town, Maryland. A correspondent tells the story:


Yesterday the owner of the farm on which the army is encamped was seized and shot without trial. He raged fearfully when they quartered on his land, and utterly refused to sell his hay at any price, and finally carried his spite so far as to attempt to poison a spring from which the soldiers obtained a large supply. He was arrested in the act, with the damning evidences of his guilt upon him, and was shot without benefit clergy."-Alb. Journal, Sept. 3.

resemblance in appearance to Gen. Geo. B. McClel lan.-Boston Transcript, Sept. 4.

A SPARTAN MOTHER.-Among those who were on board the Kate Cassel to take leave of the New Boston boys, was Mrs. Sanders, the aged mother of Mr. Mahlon Sanders, who went with the company. Five of her sons have volunteered to fight for their country, and when some of them asked how she felt under the trial of parting with all her boys, the grand old mother replied that she only regretted that she had not five more to lay upon the altar of her country.-Oledo (Ill.) Record.

A PRESBYTERIAN clergyman, while walking the deck of a steamer at St. John's, N. B., where secessionism had considerable footing, noticing the American flag flying from the masthead of a ship, tauntingly said to Col. Favor, “Why don't you take a slice off that flag, since you have lost a portion of your country?" Yankee-like, the Colonel quickly replied, "Why don't you tear a leaf from your Bible, because a part of your church have fallen from grace?" The clergyman had no more to say on that subject.

BLACK COMPANIES IN ARKANSAS.-The Fort Smith Times, of the 10th September, states that two companies of Southern black men have been formed in that neighborhood. They are thorough Southern men, not armed, but drilling to take the field, and say that they are determined to fight for their masters and their homes.

Ar Fort Hatteras, when the white flag appeared, cheer upon cheer went up from the fleet. Our tars, who had entered into the contest with their whole soul, regarded the captives as their game, which they bagged with the utmost enthusiasm. One gunner, who lost his rammer overboard, was in the water after it in a jiffy. He returned with it before he was missed, swearing that he wasn't going to have his gun disgraced for want of a rammer.-Balt. American, Sept. 3.

When Commodore Barron and his officers descended to the deck of the flag-ship Minnesota, where Commodore Stringham was stationed on the Buck-quarter-deck to receive him, Gen. Butler presented Barron to the gallant old Commodore, saying, “Commodore Barron! Commodore Stringham." The lat ter, raising himself up to his full height, looked the traitor straight in the eye, and barely inclining his head, replied, "I have seen Mr. Barron before."

Barron, who has always prided himself on the hauteur monde, fairly winced under the whole volume of honest sarcasm contained in that look and sentence. It was a touching sight. On the one side stood the manly old tar, who will die as he has lived, under that glorious flag that has flung its crimson folds over his head on every sea, waiting to tread the shore and receive the grateful plaudits and loving thanks of a mighty nation. Opposite to him stood the base traitor who deserted his post in the very hour when his services were most needed by his country. What must have been the tumultuous emotions in his breast! Scorned by his former friend of a lifetime, the object of contempt and execration to the humblest coal-passer on a ship where once his proud form and graceful manner had been followed by the devotion of the entire ship's company. It will be remembered that Barron sunk the obstructions in Norfolk harbor to prevent the egress of the

THERE is a George B. McClellan, who is an officer

in a Mississippi regiment, and who bears a marked | United States ships before Virginia joined the rebels.

INCIDENTS OF HATTERAS.-When the first salutations were made between the United States officers and Commodore Barron, he asked, "How many were killed on the fleet?" The answer was, "None." "How many were wounded?" None," was the reply. "Why," he exclaimed, "you astonish me. I thought that to capture these forts it would cost a thousand lives, and it would be cheap at that."


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