Sich tunes as "John Brown's Body," and "Sweet Alice," don't you know;

And "The Camels is A-comin'," and "John Anderson, my Joe"; And a dozent others of 'em-"Number Nine" and "Number 'Leven"

Was favo-rites that fairly made a fellar dream o' heaven,
And when the boys 'u'd saranade, I've laid so still in bed
I've even heard the locus' blossoms droppin' on the shed
Wee "Lily Dale," or "Hazel Dell," had sobbed and died away-
I want to hear the old band play.

The new band maybe beats it, but the old band's what I said-
It always 'peared to kind o' chord with somepin' in my head.
And whilse I'm no musicianer, when my blame eyes is jes
Nigh drowned out, and Mem'ry squares her jaws and sort o' says
She won't ner never will forgit, I want to jes turn in

And take an' light right out o' here, and git back West ag'in-
And stay there, when I git there where I never haf to say
I want to hear the old band play.

James Whitcomb Riley.

THERE IS SOMETHING IN A FLAG.

There is something in a flag, and in a little burnished eagle,
That is more than emblematic, it is glorious, it's regal;
You may never live to feel it, you may never be in danger,
You may never visit foreign lands and play the role of stranger;
You may never in the army check the march of an invader,
You may never on the ocean cheer the swarthy cannonader;
But if these should happen to you, then, when age is on you
pressing,

And your great big booby boy comes to ask your final blessing—

You will tell him: "Son of mine, be your station proud or frugal, When your country calls her children, and you hear the blare of bugle,

Don't you stop to think of Kansas, or the quota of your county, Don't you go to asking questions, don't you stop for pay or bounty; But you volunteer at once, and you go where orders take you, And obey them to the letter, if they make you or they break you; Hunt that flag and then stay with it, be you wealthy or plebeian; Let the women sing the dirges, scrape the lint, and chant the paean.

"Though the magazines and journals teem with anti-war persuasion,
And the stay-at-homes and cowards gladly take the like occasion,
Don't you ever dream of asking, 'Is the war a right or wrong one?'
You are in it, and your duty is to make the fight a strong one;
And you stay till it is over, be the war a short or long one;
Make amends when war is over; then the power with you is lying;
Then, if wrong, do ample justice—but that flag, you keep it flying;
If that flag goes down to ruin, time will then, without a warning,
Turn the dial back to midnight, and the world must wait till
morning."

DR. GOODCHEER'S REMEDY.

Feel all out of kilter do you?

Nothing goes to suit you quite?
Skies seem sort of dark and clouded,
Though the day is fair and bright?
Eyes affected, fail to notice

Beauty spread on every hand?
Hearing so impaired you're missing

Songs of promise, sweet and grand?

Anon.

No! your case is not uncommon

'Tis a popular distress;

Though 'tis not at all contagious,
Thousands have it more or less.
But it yields to simple treatment,
And is easy quite, to cure;
If you follow my dirctions,
Convalescence, quick, is sure.

Take a bit of cheerful thinking,
Add a portion of content,
And with both let glad endeavor
Mixed with earnestness, be blent;
These, with care and skill compounded,

Will produce a magic oil
That is bound to cure, if taken
With a lot of honest toil.

If your heart is dull and heavy;
If your hope is pale with doubt;
Try this wondrous Oil of Promise,
For 'twill drive the evil out.
Who will mix it? Not the druggist
From the bottles on his shelf;

The ingredients required

You must find within yourself.

Nixon Waterman, in "In Merry Mood."

DESCRIPTION OF CHRIST.

The following epistle is said to have been taken by Napoleon from the records of Rome when he deprived that city of so many valuable manuscripts. It was written at the time and on the spot

where Jesus commenced his ministry, by Publius Lentulus, Governor of Judea, to the senate of Rome, Cæsar, emperor. It was the custom in those days for the governor to write home any event that transpired while he held his office.

"Conscript Fathers: In these our days appeared a man named Jesus Christ, who is yet living among us, and of the Gentiles is accepted as a prophet of great truth; but his own disciples call him the son of God. He hath raised the dead and cured all manner of diseases. He is a man of stature somewhat tall and comely, with a ruddy countenance, such as the beholder may both love and fear. His hair is the color of a filbert when fully ripe, plain to his ear, whence downward it is more of orient color, curling and waving on his shoulders; in the middle of his head is a seam of long hair after the manner of the Nazarites. His forehead is plain and delicate; the face without spot or wrinkle, beautiful with a comely red; his nose and mouth are exactly formed; his beard is the color of his hair and thick, not of any length, but forked.

In reproving he is terrible; admonishing, courteous; in speaking, very modest and wise; in proportion of body, well-shaped. None have seen him laugh, many have seen him for his surpassing beauty excelling the children of men.

weep.

A man

THANKFULNESS.

Many favours which God giveth us ravel out for want of hemming, through our own unthankfulness; for though prayer purchaseth blessings, giving praise doth keep the quiet possession of

them.

Thos. Fuller.

INDEX

TITLES AND AUTHORS

A star indicates that the selection did not take a prize, although
deemed worthy of special mention.

ABOU BEN ADHEM. Leigh Hunt...

ADDRESS AT GETTYSBURG. Abraham Lincoln..

ADDRESS AT SARATOGA. Daniel Webster..
AFTERWHILE. Jas. Whitcomb Riley..

ALL. Anon.

ALONE. Robt. J. Burdette..

* ALONE WITH MY CONSCIENCE. Anon.
ALMOST HOME. E. Crayton McCants.
AMBITION. Truman Roberts Andrews.
AMERICA. F. S. Smith, LL.D.....
AN OLD STORY. Selected....

ANCIENT TOAST. Anon..

* ANSWERED PRAYER, THE. Margaret Holland..

ARROW AND THE SONG, THE. Henry W. Longfellow....

AS THROUGH THE LAND AT EVE WE WENT.

ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE. Mrs. Havens..

AT HOME. Bayard Taylor.....

AULD LANG SYNE. Robert Burns.

AWAY. Jas. Whitcomb Riley...

BABY'S KISS, THE. Anon.

BARBARA FREITCHIE. John G. Whittier..

47

21

279

50

403

340

374

173

215

10

323

125

162

155

BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC. Mrs. Julia Ward Howe.. 330

BEAUTIFUL HANDS. Mrs. Ellen M. H. Gates....

BEGIN AGAIN. Miss Sarah C. Woolsey.

BENJAMIN BREWSTER'S REPLY. Chicago Times.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN'S TOAST. Anon....

BE STRONG. Maltbie B. Babcock, D. D..

BEREAVED. Jas. Whitcomb Riley..

BETTY AND THE BEAR. Anon..

BIBLE MY MOTHER GAVE ME.

Anon...

BIT OF NEWSPAPER VERSE, A. Selected.

BLACK SHEEP. Richard Burton.

BLOW! BUGLE, BLOW! Alfred Tennyson.

BOCHSA, PLAYS THE STAR SPANGLED BANNER. Anon..

47

149

7

127

126

179

153

84

197

185

128

403