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Hair of the color of a wisp of straw,
And a disposition like a cross-cut saw.
The appellation of this lovely dame
Was Nancy; don't forget the name.

Her brother David was a tall,
Good-looking chap, and that was all:
One of your great big nothings, as we say
Here in Rhode Island, picking up old jokes
And cracking them on other folks.

Well, David undertook one night to play
The Ghost, and frighten Abel, who,

He knew,

Would be returning from a journey through
A grove of forest wood

That stood

Below

The house some distance,-half a mile, or so.

With a long taper Cap of white paper, Just made to cover

A wig, nearly as large over

As a corn-basket, and a sheet

With both ends made to meet

Across his breast,

(The way in which ghosts are always dressed)

He took

His station near

A huge oak-tree,

Whence he could overlook

The road and see

Whatever might appear.

It happened that about an hour before, friend Abel

Had left the table

Of an inn, where he had made a halt,

With horse and wagon,

To taste a flagon

Of malt

Liquor, and so forth, which, being done,

He went on,

Caring no more for twenty ghosts,
Than if they were so many posts.

David was nearly tired of waiting;
His patience was abating;

At length, he heard the careless tones
Of his kinsman's voice,

And then the noise

Of wagon-wheels among the stones.
Abel was quite elated, and was roaring
With all his might, and pouring

Out, in great confusion,

Scraps of old songs made in "the Revolution."

His head was full of Bunker Hill and Trenton;
And jovially he went on,

Scaring the whip-po-wills among the trees
With rhymes like these:-[Sings.]

"See the Yankees

Leave the hill,

With baggernetts declining, With looped-down hats

And rusty guns,

And leather aprons shining.

"See the Yankees-Whoa! Why, what is that?"

Said Abel, staring like a cat,

As, slowly, on the fearful figure strode

Into the middle of the road.

"My conscience! what a suit of clothes!

Some crazy fellow, I suppose.

Hallo! friend, what's your name! by the powers of gi

That's a strange dress to travel in."

"Be silent, Abel; for I now have come

To read your doom;

Then hearken, while your fate I now declare.

I am a spirit"-"I suppose you are;

But you'll not hurt me, and I'll tell you why:
Here is a fact which you cannot deny ;-
All spirits must be either good

Or bad, that's understood,-
And be you good or evil, I am sure

That I'm secure.

If a good spirit, I am safe. If evil,

And I don't know but you may be the Devil,—
If that's the case, you'll recollect, I fancy,
That I am married to your sister Nancy!"

THE SMACK IN SCHOOL.

A district school, not far away,
'Mid Berkshire hills, one winter's day,
Was humming with its wonted noise
Of three-score mingled girls and boys;
Some few upon their tasks intent,
But more on furtive mischief bent.
The while the master's downward look
Was fastened on a copy-book:
When suddenly, behind his back,
Rose sharp and clear a rousing smack!
As 'twere a battery of bliss

Let off in one tremendous kiss!

"What's that?" the startled master cries;
"That, thir," a little imp replies,
"Wath William Willith, if you pleathe
I thaw him kith Thuthanna Peathe!"
With frown to make a statue thrill,
The master thundered, "Hither, Will!”
Like wretch o'ertaken in his track,
With stolen chattels on his back,
Will hung his head in fear and shame,
And to the awful presence came―
A great, green, bashful simpleton,
The butt of all good-natured fun.
With smile suppressed, and birch upraised,
The threatener faltered-" I'm amazed

That you, my biggest pupil, should
Be guilty of an act so rude!

Before the whole set school to boot-
What evil genius put you to't?"

"Twas she, herself, sir," sobbed the lad,
"I did not mean to be so bad;

But when Susannah shook her curls,
And whispered, I was 'fraid of girls,
And dursn't kiss a baby's doll,
I couldn't stand it, sir, at all,
But up and kissed her on the spot!
I know-boo-hoo-I ought to not,
But, somehow, from her looks-boo-hoo-
I thought she kind o' wished me to!"

WOUNDED.

(WILLIAM E. MILLER.)

Let me lie down

Just here in the shade of this cannon-torn tree,
Here, low on the trampled grass, where I may see
The surge of the combat, and where I may hear
The glad cry of victory, cheer upon cheer:

Let me lie down.

Oh, it was grand!

Like the tempest we charged, in the triumph to share;
The tempest,-its fury and thunder were there:
On, on, o'er entrenchments, o'er living and dead,
With the foe under foot, and our flag overhead:
Oh, it was grand!

Weary and faint,

Prone on the soldier's couch, ah, how can I rest
With this shot shatter'd head and sabre-pierced breast?
Comrades, at roll-call when I shall be sought,
Say I fought till I fell, and fell where I fought,
Wounded and faint.

Oh, that last charge!

Right through the dread hell-fire of shrapnel and shell,
Through without faltering,-clear through with a yell!
Right in their midst, in the turmoil and gloom,
Like heroes we dash'd, at the mandate of doom!
Oh, that last charge!

It was duty!

Some things are worthless, and some others so good
That nations who buy them pay only in blood.
For Freedom and Union each man owes his part;
And here I pay my share, all warm from my heart:
It is duty.

Dying at last!

My mother, dear mother! with meek tearful eye,
Farewell! and God bless you, for ever and aye!
Oh that I now lay on your pillowing breast,
To breathe my last sigh on the bosom first prest!
Dying at last!

I am no saint;

But, boys, say a prayer. There's one that begins,
"Our Father," and then says, "Forgive us our sins:"
Don't forget that part, say that strongly, and then
I'll try to repeat it, and you'll say, "Amen!"
Ah! I'm no saint!

Hark! there's a shout!

Raise me up, comrades! We have conquer'd, I know!— Up, on my feet, with my face to the foe!

Ah! there flies the flag, with its star-spangles bright, The promise of glory, the symbol of right!

Well may they shout!

I'm muster'd out.

O God of our fathers, our freedom prolong,
And tread down rebellion, oppression, and wrong!
O land of earth's hope, on thy blood-redden'd sod
I die for the nation, the Union, and God!

I'm muster'd out.

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