OUR BOYS ARE MARCHING ON.

CHORUS.

Blue and Gray are now united;
North and South are now united;
'Round the flag with hearts united,
Together marching on.

Marching on to fields of glory;
Marching on to deeds of glory;
Hear again their ringing story, —
Our boys are marching on!

We heard the voice of wailing, - Cuba writhing in

her pain;

"Deliver us, your neighbors, from the clutch of cruel Spain."

We are coming, Cuba libre, to redeem you and the Maine,

Old Glory's marching on!

CHORUS.

Spain must go, and go forever;

Cuba's chains the sword must sever;

Yanks and Johnnies falter never, ·

Together marching on.

Marching on to fields of glory;

Marching on to deeds of glory;

Sing again the dear old story, -
Of Freedom marching on!

There's a breeze from off the ocean, bringing mem

There is glory for our Navy, and for Spain the die is

cast,

Our Navy's sailing on!

CHORUS.

Sailing on, with Dewey sailing;
Sailing on, with Sampson sailing;
Sailing on, our Schley is sailing,
Wherever glory's won.
Glory, glory for our Navy;

Glory, glory for our Navy;

Hear the echoes from our Navy;
Our Navy's sailing on!

-John H. Jewett.

BATTLE SHIP AND TORPEDO - BOAT.

Battle-ship and Torpedo-boat.

SMOOTH and lean, they have stripped her

clean

Down to her leering guns.

A-weather and lee she smashes the sea

With her weight of ten thousand tons,
From bow to stern her watchers turn
The beams of her searching suns.

A-wash, half-drowned, we speed around
To beat the veering light,

For she must see, ere her fangs are free,

That she may begin to bite,

And we laugh where we lie, at the blundering eye That misses us in the night.

They have freighted her with five hundred men; She is fierce with rifled guns;

But she cannot mark, as she rolls in the dark,

The death that comes and runs.

We flit as a mist-wreath on the sea,

And ere her topmen leap

We have struck and fled, and the riven dead

Are sucked in the whirling deep.

-J. W. M.

The Twins in the Turret.

FIRST RIFLE.

CAN you see her, O my brother?

Can you sight her through the rack?

Is that streak across the smother

Coal smoke trailing from a stack? Do you hear how louder, clearer

Sounds the throbbing of our screws?

When we come a little nearer,

Which of us shall hail her? Choose!

SECOND RIFLE.

Let me send a brief opinion

Of the murders on the Maine;

Of the Eagle's new dominion,

When we've closed accounts with Spain,— There, they've passed the word to crowd her, Here's our squad, too, on the run. Glad we've got this smokeless powder. Now, look out,—you'll see the fun.

FIRST RIFLE.

Are you ready, brother, ready

With your thunderbolt of steel?

THE TWINS IN THE TURRET.

Have they got your bearings steady?
Gods, you made the whole world reel!
Now it's my turn; what, you hit her
In her vitals? Oh, what bliss!
There is naught in life as bitter
For a rifle as a miss.

SECOND RIFLE.

All hell's loose; there's no use talking.
That's the time you ripped her wide!
Look, there's Davy Jones a-walking,
Picking Spaniards from the tide.
Hi! But it's a howling racket,
For a great, long, silent gun!
Easy, now, don't burst your jacket!
Our death-dealing work is done.

-John Paul Bocock.