Proclaimed, along the echoing hills, the conflict had begun ;

And shot and shell, athwart the stream with fiendish fury sped,

To strew among the living lines the dying and the dead.

Then, louder than the roaring storm, pealed forth the stern command,

"Charge! soldiers, charge!" and, at the word, with shouts, a fearless band,

Two hundred heroes from Vermont, rushed onward, through the flood,

And upward o'er the rising ground, they marked their way in blood.

The smitten foe before them fled, in terror, from his post

While, unsustained, two hundred stood, to battle with a host!

Then turning as the rallying ranks, with murd'rous fire replied,

J

They bore the fallen o'er the field, and through the purple tide.

The fallen! And the first who fell in that unequal strife,

Was he whom mercy sped to save when justice claimed his life

The pardon'd soldier' And while yet the conflict raged around,

While yet his life-blood ebbed away through every gaping wound

While yet his voice grew tremulous, and death bedimmed his eye-

He called his comrades to attest he had not feared to die;

And in his last expiring breath, a prayer to heaven was sent,

That God, with His unfailing grace, would bless our President.

FRANCIS DE HAES JANVIER.

THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN.

AMELIN Town's in Brunswick.

By famous Hanover City;

The river Weser, deep and wide,

Washes its wall on the southern side.

A pleasanter spot you never spied,
But when begins my ditty,
Almost five hundred years ago,

To see the townsfolk suffer so
From vermin was a pity.

Rats!

They fought the dogs, and killed the cats,
And bit the babies in the cradles,

And ate the cheeses out of the vats,

And licked the soup from the cook's own ladles,
Split open the kegs of salted sprats,
Made nests inside men's Sunday hats,
And even spoiled the women's chats,
By drowning their speaking
With shrieking and squeaking
In fifty different sharps and flats.

At last the people in a body

To the Town Hall came flocking:

"'Tis clear," cried they, "our Mayor's a noddy; And as for our Corporation-shocking

To think we buy gowns lined with ermine
For dolts that can't or won't determine
What's best to rid us of our vermin!"
At this the Mayor and Corporation
Quaked with a mighty consternation.

An hour they sate in council—

At length the Mayor broke silence:
"For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell;
I wish I were a mile hence!

It's easy to bid one rack one's brain-
I'm sure my poor head aches again,
I've scratched it so, and all in vain.
O for a trap, a trap, a trap!"
Just as he said this, what should hap
At the chamber door but a gentle tap?
"Bless us," cried the Mayor, "what's that?"
"Come in !"—the Mayor cried, looking bigger;
And in did come the strangest figure;

He advanced to the council-table;
And, "Please your honor," said he, “I'm able
By means of a secret charm, to draw
All creatures living beneath the sun,
That creep or swim or fly or run,
After me so as you never saw!
Yet," said he, "poor piper as I am,
In Tartary I freed the Cham,

Last June, from his huge swarm of gnats;

I eased in Asia the Nizam

Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats;
And as for what your brain bewilders-
If I can rid your town of rats,
Will you give me a thousand guilders ?"
"One? fifty thousand!" was the exclamation
Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.

Into the street the piper stept,

Smiling first a little smile,

As if he knew what magic slept
In his quict pipe the while;

Then, like a musical adept,

To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,

And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled,
Like a candle flame where salt is sprinkled;
And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,
You heard as if an army muttered;
And the muttering grew to a grumbling;
And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;
And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.
Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,
Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats,
Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,
Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,
Cocking tails and pricking whiskers;
Families by tens and dozens,
Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives-
Followed the piper for their lives.
From street to street he piped advancing,
And step for step they followed dancing,
Until they came to the river Weser,
Wherein all plunged and perished
Save one who, stout as Julius Cæsar,
Swam across and lived to carry
(As he the manuscript he cherished)
To Rat-land home his commentary,

Which was: "At the first shrill notes of the pipe,
I heard a sound as of scraping tripe,
And putting apples, wondrous ripe,
Into a cider-press's gripe-

And a moving away of pickle-tub boards,
And a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards,
And a drawing the corks of train-oil flasks,
And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks;
And it seemed as if a voice

(Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery

Is breathed) called out, "O rats, rejoice!

The world is grown to one vast drysaltery!

So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon,
Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!
And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon,
Already staved, like a great sun shone
Glorious scarce an inch before me,
Just as methought it said, 'Come, bore me!'-
I found the Weser rolling o'er me."
You should have heard the Hamelin people
Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple;
"Go," cried the Mayor, "and get long poles!
Poke out the nests and block up the holes!
Consult with carpenters and builders,
And leave in our town not even a trace
Of the rats!"--when suddenly, up the face
Of the piper perked in the market place,

With a "First if you please, my thousand guilders!"'
A thousand guilders! the Mayor looked blue ;
So did the Corporation too.

Το

pay this sum to a wandering fellow With a gypsy coat of red and yellow!

"Beside," quoth the Mayor, with a knowing wink, "Our business was done at the river's brink;

We saw with our eyes the vermin sink,
And what's dead can't come to life, I think.

So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink
From the duty of giving you something to drink,
And a matter of money to put in your poke;
But as for the guilders, what we spoke
Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.
Beside, our losses have made us thrifty;
A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!"

The piper's face fell, and he cried,
"No trifling! I can't wait! beside,
I've promised to visit by dinner time
Bagdat, and accept the prime
Of the head cook's pottage, all he's rich in,
For having left, in the Caliph's kitchen,
Of a nest of scorpions no survivor-
With him I proved no bargain-driver;
With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver!

And folks who put me in a passion
May find me pipe to another fashion."

"How?" cried the Mayor, "d' ye think I'll brook Being worse treated than a cook?

Insulted by a lazy ribald

With idle pipe and vesture piebald?

You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst, Blow your pipe there till you burst "

Once more he stept into the street;
And to his lips again

Laid his long pipe of smooth, straight cane;
And ere he blew three notes (such sweet,
Soft notes as yet musician's cunning
Never gave the enraptured air)

There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling
Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling;
Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering,
Little hands clapping, and little tongues chattering.
And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is
scattering,

Out came the children running:

All the little boys and girls,

With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,

And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls,
Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after
The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.

The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood
As if they were changed into blocks of wood,
Unable to move a step, or cry
To the children merrily skipping by,
And could only follow with the eye
That joyous crowd at the piper's back.
But how the Mayor was on the rack,
And the wretched Council's bosoms beat

As the piper turned from the High street
To where the Weser rolled its waters

Right in the way of their sons and daughters!
However, he turned from south to west,

And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,
And after him the children pressed;

Great was the joy in every breast.

'He never can cross that mighty top!

He's forced to let the piping drop,
And we shall see our children stop!"

When lo, as they reached the mountain's side,

A wondrous portal opened wide,

As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;

And the piper advanced and the children followed;
And when all were in, to the very last,
The door in the mountain-side shut fast.
Did I say all? No! One was lame,

And could not dance the whole of the way;
And in after years, if you would blame
His sadness, he was used to say,

"It's dull in our town since my playmates left,
I can't forget that I'm bereft

Of all the pleasant sights they see,
Which the piper also promised me;

For he led us, he said, to a joyous land,
Joining the town and just at hand,

Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew,
And flowers put forth a fairer hue,
And everything was strange and new ;

The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here,
And their dogs outran our fallow deer,
And honey-bees had lost their stings,
And horses were born with eagles' wings;
And just as I became assured

My lame foot would be speedily cured,

The music stopped and I stood still,

And found myself outside the Hill,

Left alone against my will,

To go now limping as before,

And never hear of that country more!"

ROBERT BROWNING.

HOW THEY BROUGHT THE GOOD NEWS FROM GHENT TO AIX.

SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris and he;

I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight,
Then shortened each stirrup and set the pique right,
Re-buckled the check-strap, chained slacker the bit;
Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.

'Twas moonset at starting, but while we drew near
Lokeren, the cocks crew, and twilight dawned clear;
At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see,
At Düffeld, 'twas morning as plain as could be ;
And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half
chime;

So Joris broke silence with "Yet there is time."

At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun,
And against him the cattle stood black every one
To stare through the mist at us galloping past,
And I saw my stout galloper, Roland, at last,
With resolute shoulders each butting away
The haze, as some bluff river headland its spray.

And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back

For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track; And one eye's black intelligence-ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, its own master, askance ! And the thick heavy spume-flakes, which aye and

anon

His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on.

By Hasselt, Dirck groaned, and cried Joris, "Stay spur!

Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her, We'll remember at Aix;"—for one heard the quick wheeze

Of her chest, saw the stretched neck and staggering

knees,

And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank,
As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank.

So we were left galloping, Joris and I,
Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky;
The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh,
'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like

chaff;

Till over by Dalhelm a dome-spire sprang white, And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!"

"How they'll greet us!"—and all in a moment his

roan

Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone,

three;

"Good speed !" cried the watch as the gate-bolts undrew,

"Speed!" echoed the wall to us galloping through; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast.

Not a word to each other: we kept the great pace Neck and neck, stride by stride, never changing our place.

Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,

With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets rim.

Then I cast loose my buff coat, each holster let fall,
Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all,
Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear,
Called my Roland his pet name, my horse without
peer;