without either opening her Bible or bend- Sumter fired on, She had a headache the next morning, she said; and her Aunt Jane, with whom she lived, told her she looked as if she'd cried her eyes out. She moped for a week, moped till her uncle said one morning, as he rose from the breakfast-table, "I shall stop and ask the doctor to come in and see you, Ella. You're going to have a fever of some sort." "I don't want the doctor; I aint going to have a fever; I'm as well as I ever was; I'm only a little stupid. If I stop singing or laughing or dancing or carrying-on a day, you and aunty always will have it I'm sick. As if a body never wanted a chance to think!" And she forthwith carolled a strain gay as a bluebird's in springtime, and danced to the lively measure till her uncle declared she made his head dizzy. "You wont stop at the doctor's?" she said, archly, as she brought him his overcoat, hat, and cane, and dipped into one and another pocket till she fished up his gloves, and then snatched away his handkerchief and ran for a clean one. "Not if you'll promise I shall find you at the piano when I come home, or دو Playing snowball with Johnny!" and she laughed so gayly that the fond uncle's heart was eased of all its aches. Mope! She didn't mope after that. She went to work and swept and dusted the house from garret to parlor, and even made a path from the kitchen-door to the wood-shed with the heavy snow-shovel, "As nate a one," Bridget said, "as the masther hisself could a-done." And when Mr. Rand returned to dinner, he did find her out in the back-yard playing snow-ball with Johnny, her cheeks like roses and her eyes bright as jewels; and after dinner, she rattled polkas and schottisches from the piano till her uncle declared he was half deaf and the other the South in rebellion, ጎን Ella threw up the window. "Hand me a paper, — quick, quick, never mind the change!" as the ragged urchin eyed wistfully the dime. "What are we coming to?" and she unfolded the yet damp sheet, and read amidst fast-dropping tears. "This will bring out our heroes," she said, as it fell from her hands. "I wonder if he'll go. If he don't, I'll — yes, I'll hate him, hate him always. What a pity he isn't taller and straighter and handsomer!" And forthwith she fell into a reverie, and was only roused from it by her uncle thumping her on her back and asking if he should "go for the doctor." He did go; he was one of the seventy thousand. Ella heard of his enlistment with a thrill of pride; and her cheek flushed to a bright scarlet when, one evening, as her uncle opened the parlor-door, he said briefly, but pointedly, “Ella, make you acquainted with Captain Grey." sure, - She held out her hand. He touched it lightly, there was no lingering presand then going to the piano, he said gayly, "Patriotism even here,Star-Spangled Banner,' 'Hail Columbia,' Washington's Grand March!' Why, Miss Rand, this is inspiring! You ought to be a soldier's wife." She winced, and he saw it, if his eyes were blue. He said it on purpose to make her wince, wicked fellow! A repartee, sparkling as sunlight, leaped to her lips, after a moment's self-control; but it died there, and a better thought a thought born with the pain those words of his had struck into her heart came to her, and she said gravely, and with an earnestness that thrilled him, "And a soldier's wife I mean to be, if" she faltered for a second ever anybody's. I am waiting for my hero." Then he understood her. knew why he had been rejected, not a hero. I am Then he he was Ah, Ella Rand! That young man will act a brave part on the bloody fields of your country's history; but never will he be as brave as when he turned away from you on that night, three months ago, the light of his early days darkened out of existence, and yet resolving to bear it all. He will be a hero at the cannon's mouth, but not so true a one as then,then, when in his lonely, shadowed chamber he bent his knee and prayed to God to bless the young girl he had loved so fondly, and to give himself strength to do his duty all through life. Excitement will oft drive bravery into a coward's heart and make a hero of a dolt; but true bravery is that which makes a man firm when assailed in his heart's citadels, and a true hero is he who battles with himself, God and the angels looking on. There was an awkward silence. Ella bore it as long as she could, and then, with a nervous touch, she struck the keys of the instrument. 66 See, the Conquering Hero comes." She hardly knew what she was playing, till the last strain echoed through the room. The flush on her cheeks deepened into a crimson, and they burned with the hot blood. As is aften the case, she made a bad matter worse by saying, hurriedly, "It's just as uncle says, my thoughts are always flying off through the tips of my fingers; " and then she covered her face with her hands, and had a hard struggle to keep back tears; for not for worlds would she have had Albert Grey know how eagerly she was waiting for her hero. Another awkward silence. Then the young captain said, abruptly, "How long will you wait, Ella?" How that name, uttered by his lips, thrilled her! They had met many times since she rejected his suit, but he had always called her Miss Rand. "Will you wait till the end of the war?" She did not keep him waiting for his answer this time. She knew her own heart now, she knew she loved Albert Grey better than she did her own life. So she lifted her face, and as their eyes met, she said, solemnly, "I will, Albert." He took her hand; he pressed it; he kissed the little quivering fingers, and then he strained her to his heart and "Morning Hexpress-hextra! Great Union victory in Virgenne, - New York volunteers in the front! " "Quick, boy, give me one, quick, — here's your money!" and a currency quarter was tucked into his hand. "O my God, my heavenly Father, give me strength to bear the worst!" The words were not uttered, but they went to the Most High from the depths of her heart; and then, right there in the street, Ella Rand unfolded the wet sheet, and ran her eyes rapidly over the list of casualties. It was a long list, and as she read, her heart grew lighter,— lighter for a moment, then her pulses ceased to beat, and she dropped upon a door-step, unconscious of everything. "Mortally wounded, Captain Albert Grey, of — Shrewd beyond his years, the little newsboy had guessed she was deeply interested in the recent victory, and he had watched the changes in her face as she read. Quick to think, no sooner did he see her drop than he hailed a passing hack and had her lifted in and carried home. He knew well where she lived, for she was one of his best customers. "My smitten darling!" cried her uncle, as he took her in his arms and bore her to her chamber. "God comfort thee, my precious little lamb!" knew then that she was devoting herself to hospital-life. He bought her the book and others; and there, in her convalescent chair, she read and pondered. There, too, she sat and scraped and ravelled lint, and tore and wound bandages, and after awhile, made comfort-bags and knit socks. "I'm strong enough now to go into the hospital here, am I not, doctor?" she asked one day, and a wistful look came into her eyes. Ella did not die; but she lay sick so long that even her uncle, with all his hopefulness, feared for many a day he should have to give up his darling. A brain fever in one of her excitable nature was a disease hard to baffle; and more than one consultation took place between the physicians before she was pronounced out of danger. "Mortally wounded, mortally wounded!" Day and night, night and day, those words were on her lips. Now she screamed them out in tones that curdled the blood of her hearers, and then she moaned them with a pa-read to them, or sing to them, or write thos that brought tears even to the phy- their letters. Oh, do say I may go!" sicians' eyes. There were tears on her face. But youth and a constitution impaired by no hereditary taint triumphed at last, and she was convalescent. Only the shadow of herself, though. Wasted to skin and bone, with colorless cheeks and lips, and only a few little scanty rings of hair about the forehead and around the head that had once rejoiced in a luxuriance of auburn curls. Yet she was more beautiful than ever. The light of a holy purpose flashed out of her eyes and gave a saintly look to her whole face, while her voice, though hushed to lively laughter and gay music, had a plaintive melody in every tone that touched the most delicate chords of the listening soul. "And what shall I bring my darling to-day?" asked her uncle, as he tenderly patted the white cheek. "The doctor said yesterday I might read a little every day now, and if you please, I'd like Florence Nightingale's Work on Nursing.' "Work on Nursing,' Ella?" "Yes, sir;" and she looked him bravely in the face. He understood her then. He knew then why it was she was cherishing so tenderly her coming strength, knew then why she had never repined since she came to her senses, knew then why, instead of praying to die, she had always plead for My poor little patient," he said, tenderly, "you'd faint away with the first breath of its tainted atmosphere! You don't know what you ask. You there nursing with those little white hands!" "At least, doctor, I could bathe their foreheads and comb their hair, and — and "Not into the hospital yet, Miss Ella; I dare not risk your life so soon. Butbut I have a patient in whom I am deeply interested, a soldier who has lived through one of the worst wounds I ever saw dressed. He has no mother or sister or wife. If you would go to him! But I don't believe you could bear it, weak as you yet are! No, no! I was wrong to even think of it, and yet, he needs a woman's care so much! Such a sufferer, and so patient!" - "Try me, doctor, do, please do! Where is he?" "He is with his father. The old man went to him as soon as he heard he was wounded, and stayed with him in the fieldhospital till he could be moved here. But, my child, you could not bear the sight!" 66 Try me!" "Child, he lies bound to a board! he can't move either finger or toe!" "Can he live?" "Yes, I think so; that is, if his mind don't succumb. So far, he has borne with almost superhuman patience. A hero on the battle-field he was, undoubtedly; for it was he who, when the color-guard was slain and the flag trailed in the dust, rushed to the rescue and bore it off triumphantly, his blood pouring out of him It was twilight in the sick-room, though the sun blazed and burned out-doors. At first, Ella could see nothing. Leaning awhile against the door the doctor had so softly closed behind him,- for he told her she must go in alone, she accustomed her eyes to the gloom, and saw at last, in the centre of the room, a low cot covered with a sheet. Something was under it; she saw the outlines of a human form, but so still! Could there be life there? For a moment, she felt faint and dizzy; but she closed her eyes and prayed. "Ask of me, and I will give." The strength came, and she stepped lightly forward. The eyes of the soldier were closed. It was well, too; for Ella, though she repressed the shriek that rushed to her lips, Where had she seen him before. She tried to think. That mouth, white as were the lips, and shrunken, too,—it seemed strangely familiar. She rubbed her forehead; she had been wont to do. so since her illness, for her memory was at times treacherous. She rubbed it again, and a wild thought came to her,thought that started the perspiration from every pore. a - sat She tottered away and sat down, and prayed, not a moment, but a halfhour. "Ask, and I will give!" It came, the strength; and she went again to the couch, leaned over it, and kissed those white and shrunken lips. The soldier did not stir. She kissed them again and again. They moved at last and whispered, " More, Ella, more! There is life in those kisses." "Albert, my Albert, my hero!" For the first time, the soldier groaned impatiently. If he could but for one moment have put his arms about her! but those arms were both pinioned to the unyielding splints. Only his eyes and lips were free. Looks and kisses, — it was all he could give her then, all save now and then a few precious words, which her heart treasured up as men treasure up costly pearls. "Well," said the doctor, as he came in two hours afterward, "do you want to go into the hospital to-morrow, or will you be satisfied to take this patient off my hands?" · "He has engaged me to be his nurse," she said, betwixt a smile and tear. "I shall never leave him again till he is well." Nor did she. She sent for her uncle and aunt, and talked with them till they consented; she called the old father upstairs and plead with him till he said yes; and then she sent for the old white-haired minister who had christened her when a baby and led her to the communion-table when in the flush of girlhood; and then and there, in that darkened room, her bridegroom bound upon a board, she was married. On her knees beside the cot, clasping the fingers of his poor imprisoned hand, she waited for him to speak the words that made her his wife, and then spoke those which gave him to her for life, for death, forever! There were tears upon every face as she rose up in her girlish beauty and offered her pale cheek to the kisses of the little But she awed them with group. her quiet, womanly dignity, as, the solemn congratulations over, she motioned them from the room, saying, "My husband needs me." Silently she closed the door after them, and giving him one kiss, went to the stand and poured out his drops and brought them to him. "Not a word to-night!" as he would have spoken. ORIGIN OF THE WORD YANKEE.-When the New England colonies were first set tled, the inhabitants were obliged to fight their way against many nations of Indians. They found but little difficulty in subduing them all except one tribe who were known by the name of Yankoos which signifies invincible. After much waste of blood and treasure, the Yankoos were at last subdued by the New England men. The remains of this nation, agreeably to the Indian custom, transferred their name to their conquerors. For a while, they were called Yankoos; but, from a corruption, common to names in all languages, they got, through time, the name of Yankees, a name which we hope will soon be equal to that of a Roman or an ancient Englishman. THE second edition of "Over the River" has been sold, and the third edition is printing. Everybody who has seen it says it is a beautiful book, |