"When?" said Mr. Bird, taking up the interrogatory.

"To-night."

"How did you come?"

"I crossed on the ice."

"Crossed on the ice!" said every one present.

"Yes," said the woman slowly, "I did. God helping me, I crossed on the ice; for they were behind me—right behind —and there was no other way!"

10. Law, Missis," said Cudjoe, the ice is all in broken-up blocks, a swinging and a tetering up and down in the water."

"I know it was,-I know it!" said she, wildly, "but I did it! I would n't have thought I could,-I did n't think I should get over, but I did n't care! I could but die, if I did n't. The Lord helped me; nobody knows how much the Lord can help 'em till they try," said the woman, with a flashing eye.

"Were you a slave?" said Mr. Bird.

Yes, sir; I belonged to a man in Kentucky." "Was he unkind to you?"

'No, sir; he was a good master."

"And was your mistress unkind to you ?"

"No, sir;-no! my mistress was always good to me." "What could induce you to leave a good home, then,

run away, and go through such dangers?"

and

11. The woman looked up at Mrs. Bird, with a keen, scrutinizing glance, and it did not escape her that she was dressed in deep mourning.

"Ma'am," she said, suddenly, "have you ever lost a child?"

The question was unexpected, and it was a thrust on a new wound; for it was only a month since a darling child of the family had been laid in the grave.

Mr. Bird turned around and walked to the window, and Mrs. Bird burst into tears; but, recovering her voice, she said,

"Why do you ask that? I have lost a little one."

12. "Then you will feel for me. I have lost two, one after another,―left 'em buried there when I came away; and I had only this one left. I never slept a night without him; he was all I had. He was my comfort and pride, day and night; and, maʼam, they were going to take him away from me, to sell him,-sell him down south, ma'am, to go all alone,—a baby that had never been away from his mother in his life! I could n't stand it ma'am. I knew I never should be good for anything, if they did; and when I knew the papers were signed and he was sold, I took him and came off in the night; and they chased me, and they were coming down right behind me, and I heard 'em. I jumped right on to the ice; and how I got across I don't know,— but first I knew, a man was helping me up the bank."

13. The woman did not sob nor weep. She had gone to a place where tears are dry, but every one around her was, in some way characteristic of himself, showing signs of hearty sympathy.

The two little boys, after a desperate rummaging in their pockets in search of those pocket-handkerchiefs which mothers know are never to be found there, had thrown themselves disconsolately into the skirts of their mother's gown, where they were sobbing, and wiping their eyes and noses, to their hearts' content;-Mrs. Bird had her face fairly hidden in her pocket handkerchief; and old Dinah, with tears streaming down her black, honest face, was ejaculating, "Lord have mercy on us!" with all the fervor of a campmeeting;- while old Cudjoe, rubbing his eyes very hard with his cuffs, and making a most uncommon variety of wry faces, occasionally responded in the same key, with great fervor.

14. Our senator was a statesman, and of course could not be expected to cry, like other mortals; and so he turned his back to the company, and looked out of the window, and seemed particularly busy in clearing his throat and wiping his spectacle-glasses, occasionally blowing his nose in a manner that was calculated to excite suspicion, had any one been in a state to observe critically.

THOMAS BUCHANAN READ.

1. Up from the South at break of day,
Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay,
The affrighted air with a shudder bore,
Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door,
The terrible grumble and rumble and roar,
Telling the battle was on once more,
And Sheridan twenty miles away.

2. And wider still those billows of war
Thundered along the horizon's bar,
And louder yet into Winchester rolled
The roar of that red sea uncontrolled,
Making the blood of the listener cold

As he thought of the stake in that fiery fray,
And Sheridan twenty miles away.

3. But there is a road from Winchester town,

A good, broad highway leading down;

And there, through the flush of the morning light,
A steed, as black as the steeds of night,
Was seen to pass as with eagle flight;
As if he knew the terrible need,

He stretched away with the utmost speed;

Hill rose and fell; but his heart was gay,
With Sheridan fifteen miles away.

4. Still sprung from those swift hoofs, thundering south,
The dust, like the smoke from the cannon's mouth,
Or the trail of a comet, sweeping faster and faster,
Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster;

The heart of the steed and the heart of the master
Were beating like prisoners assaulting their walls,
Impatient to be where the battle-field calls;
Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play,
With Sheridan only ten miles away.

5. Under his spurning feet, the road,
Like an arrowy Alpine river, flowed,
And the landscape sped away behind,
Like an ocean flying before the wind;

And the steed, like a bark fed with furnace ire,
Swept by, with his wild eyes full of fire.

But, lo! he is nearing his heart's desire;
He is snuffing the smoke of the roaring fray,
With Sheridan only five miles away.

6. The first that the general saw were the groups Of stragglers, and then the retreating troops; What was done-what to do

-a glance told him both;

And striking his spurs, with a terrible oath,

He dashed down the line 'mid a storm of huzzahs;

And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because

The sight of the master compelled it to pause.

With foam and with dust the black charger was gray;

By the flash of his eye, and his red nostril's play,
He seemed to the whole great army to say,

"I have brought you Sheridan all the way From Winchester down to save the day!"

7. Hurrah, hurrah, for Sheridan ! Hurrah, hurrah, for horse and man! And when their statues are placed on high, Under the dome of the Union sky,The American soldier's Temple of Fame,— There, with the glorious general's name, Be it said, in letters bold and bright, "Here is the steed that saved the day, By carrying Sheridan into the fight,

From Winchester-twenty miles away!"