land. I came here because it is the only spot on earth where I could hope to enjoy that freedom which is denied me in my own country, and here I thought I should find a home upon the sacred soil of America, the patriot's own land, where the Goddess of Liberty delights to dwell, to hover over its hallowed domain, and magnanimous sons, and shelter them with her golden wings from the wrath and oppression of the ignoble despots of the European world.

'Say, great General, dare you repose confidence in ine, stranger, foreigner, exile, and outcast as I am?'

At the conclusion of this harangue, the tall Polish warrior stood in breathless anxiety, awaiting the reply of Washington, much in the same gallant and knightly attitude in which Gilbert de la Marmont did when he stood demanding in marriage the daughter of the haughty old Baron Von Issendoff, in the proud ancestral hall in his famous castle, on the banks of the Rhone, in sunny France, in the days of the old Crusaders.

Washington cast upon the warrior a stern glance, as if he would read the inmost secrets of his soul; but he cowered not before the General's fixed and steadfast gaze.

'Oh! heaven,' exclaimed Washington, starting up, and with a quick step walking back and forth, still scrutinizing the stranger, who can I trust in these dark times? Can I confide in you, an adventurer, and an exile from your native land?'

At this crisis, Gen. Greene entered the pavillion; the tall Polander bowed, and the American returned the salutation.

'You are a stranger,' continued Washington to the Polander; I know you not. I am unable to read the secrets of your heart. You may be a patriot-you may be possessed of honorable intentions, and incited to action by none other than the purest motives that ever swelled in the breast of man; and yet you may be our bitterest and most deadly foe. We are admonished by past experience, and by former precedents, to distrust all

till they have proved themselves our friends, and worthy of implicit confidence by their deeds of valor; and in these perilous times we hardly know who are our friends. For aught I know, you are a British General, come with a lie in your mouth, enmity in your heart, and a concealed dagger under your garb of pretended patriotism, to seduce us, spy our situation and then return to your master. It may be so. It is possible, nay, probable. But there is a frankness and sincerity in your language, a noble manliness in your expression and demeanor, that it seems impossible to be feigned, by even the most arrant villain, one most deeply skilled in deeds of sin and iniquity, the darkest and worst, but possessed only by a patriot, the truest and best. Stranger, we receive you into our ranks as a friend; we divulge to you our secret plans; we admit you to our councils, and reveal to you our hopes and prospects for the future, and if, by your valor, you serve your country with that fidelity and bravery which is characteristic of your heroic nation, and with the enthusiasm of your valiant countryman, Kosciusko, you will give us ample proof of your sincerity and love of freedom, and will satisfy us that none other than the Genius of Liberty animates and induces you to hazard your life in fighting the battles of the free. But if you betray us, if you turn traitor, and desert the glori ous struggle in which you are now engaged, evil will betide you. At to-morrow's dawn you will have an opportunity to manifest to the world your valor as a warrior and your fidelity as a patriot.

Yes,' said Greene, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword, 'our vengeance will fall upon your head, our steel will pierce your heart, though you be guarded by a legion of British soldiers, though you were in the heart of England, in the palace of the British King.'

The countenance of the Pole did not even change during this speech, as the reader would naturally imagine, when such bitter insinuations and invectives were poured out so profusely upon one who had such pure, holy motives in his heart; but his blood boiled, his eyes

flashed fire, and he expressed his feelings in all the warmth of Polish eloquence.

'I call God to witness,' said he, that nothing but the purest patriotism and devout and sincere love of freedom inspires and incites me, and encourages me to enlist under the American banner, and bare my bosom to the sword of the Britons.-Ah, gentlemen, you will know me better when you have known me longer. I am PULASKI.'

It was enough. The spell was broken. The unknown warrior was no longer a stranger, for, although he was a native of another continent, his fame had been borne on the wings of the wind all over the earth.

The ensuing day, the 11th of Sepetmber, 1777, is memorable in the annals of the American Revolution for being the one on which was fought the memorable battle of Brandywine. It was on that bloody day, according to the historian, that both the Marquis de Lafayette and Count Pulaski first drew their swords in defence of American freedom.

Pulaski was a brave officer. His name will go down with honor to the latest posterity, and will ever be remembered and venerated by the people whose liberty he contributed essentially to achieve, as one of those bold and fearless spirits who disdained to be a slave. No one can ever revert to the names of Washington, Marion and Greene, without paying a like tribute of respect to the magnanimous and patriotic Polander.

While he served in the American army, he performed many brilliant exploits on the field of battle. He was in some of the most desperate and sanguinary engage ments in which the Americans had to contend with the veteran armies of England.

During the Revolution, Washington committed to him many important and perilous enterprises, in the execution of which he evinced much military talent and sagacity as a commander, and performed them with his usual bravery, fidelity and patriotism.

He acted a conspicuous part in the battles of Saratoga

and Monmouth; in the former of which he fought bravely and hand to hand, and blade to blade with Count Delando, a German officer, whom he wounded and disarmed, but with his accustomed magnanimity spared the life of his vanquished foe.

Pulaski accompanied Gen. Greene in his Southern campaign, and on the 4th of October, 1779, a little over two years from the time that he enlisted in the American army, he fell mortally wounded, at the siege of Savannah. His career, although short, was brilliant and complete.

CHAPTER VI.

After retreating to Princeton from Philadelphia, we did not lie long at that place. From Princeton we went to Bethlehem, Northampton county, Pa. The famous battle of Saratoga was fought about this time, it having begun at a place called Stillwater, on the 17th and on the 18th of Sept., and finished at Saratoga on the 17th of October. Gates quitted not his grasp, but pursued, drove, pursued, harrassed, surrounded and hemmed in the enemy by a succession of noble, daring and brilliant. movements, until Burgoyne surrendered his whole army, numbering about 6000 men, as prisoners of war to the American forces under his own command,-to Gates and his brave, firm and victorious band of conquering heroes. Burgoyne when he marched out, intent on measuring his forces with that of the Americans under General Gates—intent upon making a trial of strength and filling the measure of his threat, that he would "march through the heart of America," his army amounted to 10,000 strong, losing 4,000 men from the time he commenced that trial of strength at the first battle of Stillwater on the 17th of September, until he surrendered his whole forces at Saratoga on the 17th of October, 1777.

Here it was (Bethlehem) that when the American soldiers drew their grog rations, the following toast was "all the go:"

Success to the States and the brave General Gates,

Whose conduct in History will shine,

In the year Seventy-Seven, by the assistance of Heaven,
He pulled down the pride of Burgoyne.

Whilst we laid at Bethlehem I went frequently to the Nunnery, (which was used as a hospital) to see the Surgeons dressing the wounds of the wounded soldiers.Among the number I remember seeing two soldiers, one of the name of Samuel Smith, whose whole leg and thigh was dreadfully mangled by a cannon ball. The Doctors amputated it close up to the body. Smith recovered and learned to be "a Tinker." I often seen him after the Revolution. The other soldier was shot through the neck, the ball had passed in at one side and out at the other. He recovered, but his neck was always so stiff afterwards that when he wanted to turn his head to look in any direction, he had to turn his body therewith to enable him to do so. I often seen him also after the Revolution.

The fair daughters of my Columbia, daughters as well as mothers, in this and other sections of my country never stood aloof in the hour of suffering, but came forward in womanliness to alleviate the suffering soldiers, and smooth the hard pillows of the dying in their earnest and anxious desires to manifest that innate tenderness which they possessed in an enlarged degree. Nor was it to the wounded sufferers that the daughters of Columbia ministered comforts, consolation and aid. No! they spun, they wove and they made clothes and covered and fed a starving and famishing soldiery. This by the midnight labors often of their own patriotic hands.

A STORY OF THE REVOLUTION,

OR, THE NATIVE PEPPER-AND-SALT PANTALOONS. "The following is a bona fide fact, taken without mendation from the life of a mother in Israel. It will