And the same mysterious voice said: 'IT IS THE ELEVENTH HOUR!

ORDERLY SERGEANT-ROBERT BURTON-IT IS THE ELEVENTH HOUR!'

"Dr. Austin !-what day is this?"

day night, you know."

"It is Wednes

"Yes-to-morrow will be New Year's, and a right good time below!

What time is it, Dr. Austin?" "Nearly twelve.” Then don't you go!

66

Can it be that all this happened—all this—not an hour ago?

"There was where the gunboats opened on the dark rebellious host;

And where Webster semi-circled his last guns upon the coast;

There were still the two log-houses, just the same, or else their ghost—

And the same old transport came and took me over-or its ghost!

"And the old field lay before me, all deserted, far and wide:

There was where they fell on Prentiss there McClernand met the tide;

There was where stern Sherman rallied, and where Hurlbut's heroes died

Lower down, where Wallace charged them, and kept charging till he died.

"There was where Lew Wallace showed them he

was of the canny kin,

There was where old Nelson thundered, and where

Rousseau waded in;

There McCook sent 'em to breakfast, and we all began to win,

There was where the grape-shot took me, just as we began to win.

"Now, a shroud of snow and silence over everything was spread;

And but for this old blue mantle and the old hat on my head,

I should not have even doubted, to this moment, I was dead,

For my footsteps were as silent as the snow upon the dead!

"Death and silence!- Death and silence! all around me as I sped!

And behold, a mighty Tower, as if builded to the dead,

To the Heaven of the heavens lifted up its mighty head,

Till the Stars and Stripes of Heaven all seemed waving from its head!

"Round and mighty-based it towered up into the infinite

And I knew no mortal mason could have built a

shaft so bright;

For it shone like solid sunshine, and a winding stair of light

Wound around it and around it till it wound clear out of sight!

"And, behold, as I approached it—with a rapt and dazzled stare

Thinking that I saw old comrades just ascending the great stair

Suddenly the solemn challenge broke of―'Halt!' and 'Who goes there?'

'I'm a friend,' I said, 'if you are!' 'Then advance, sir, to the Stair!'

"I advanced!

Ballantyne !

That sentry, Doctor, was Elijah

First of all to fall on Monday, after we had formed

the line!

Welcome, my old Sergeant, welcome! Welcome by that countersign!'

And he pointed to the scar there, under this old cloak of mine.

"As he grasped my hand I shuddered, thinking only of the grave;

But he smiled, and pointed upward, with a bright and bloodless glaive:

'That's the way, sir, to Headquarters.' 'What Headquarters?' 'Of the Brave!'

'But the great Tower?' 'That was builded of the great deeds of the Brave!'

"Then a sudden shame came o'er me at his uniform of light;

At my own so old and battered, and at his so new and bright;

'Ah!' said he,' you have forgotten the new uniform to-night!

'Hurry back-for you must be here at just twelve o'clock to-night!'

"And the next thing I remember, you were sitting there, and I

Doctor-did you hear a footstep? Hark-God bless you all! Good-by!

Doctor, please to give my musket and my knapsack, when I die,

To my son-my son that's coming--he won't get here till I die!

"Tell him his old father blessed him-as he never

See! it opens!

"Father! Father! speak once more!"

"Bless you !"-gasped the old gray Sergeant. And

he lay and said no more.

FORCEYTHe Willson.

READY.

LOADED with gallant soldiers,

A boat shot in to the land,

And lay at the right of Rodman's Point,
With her keel upon the sand.

Lightly, gayly, they came to shore,
And never a man afraid;
When sudden the enemy opened fire
From his deadly ambuscade.

Each man fell flat on the bottom

Of the boat; and the captain said: "If we lie here, we all are captured, And the first who moves is dead!"

Then out spoke a negro sailor,
No slavish soul had he:
"Somebody's got to die, boys,
And it might as well be me!"

Firmly he rose, and fearlessly
Stepped out into the tide;
He pushed the vessel safely off,
Then fell across her side:

Fell, pierced by a dozen bullets,

As the boat swung clear and free; But there wasn't a man of them that day Who was fitter to die than he !

PHOEBE CARY,

THE DEAD CANNONEER.

[General Pelham, C. S. A., killed at Kelly's Ford, Va., March 17, 1863.]

JUST as the spring came laughing through the strife,
With all its gorgeous cheer,

In the bright April of historic life,
Fell the great cannoneer.

The wondrous lulling of a hero's breath
His bleeding country weeps;
Hushed in the alabaster arms of Death,
Our young Marcellus sleeps.

Nobler and grander than the Child of Rome
Curbing his chariot steeds,

The knightly scion of a Southern home
Dazzled the land with deeds.

Gentlest and bravest in the battle-brunt,

The champion of the truth,

He bore his banner to the

very front

Of our immortal youth.

A clang of sabres 'mid Virginian snow,
The fiery pang of shells,-

And there's a wail of immemorial woe
In Alabama dells.

The pennon drops that led the sacred band
Along the crimson field;

The meteor blade sinks from the nerveless hand
Over the spotless shield.

We gazed and gazed upon that beauteous face;
While round the lips and eyes,

Couched in their marble slumber, flashed the grace
Of a divine surprise.