"No, sir, not all yet. I wish your name added. I believe that is essential to such a document."

The general, more reluctant to sign his name than to grant the discharge, was finally brought to the point.

"And now, General Dix," said Mrs. W., "do you know what I intend doing with this discharge? I shall send it to my sons at Manassas, and if they have any of the spirit of their mother, they will one day make you rue this encounter."

After Mrs. W. left, they say the general vowed he would not see another woman for three years, three months, and three days, calling no doubt to mind Richard Coeur de Lion's famous truce with Saladin.

PROOF AGAINST FEDERAL GALLANTRY.

A CERTAIN Union colonel, a staff officer, noted for his talent at repartee, and for the favorable opinion which he entertained of his own good looks, stopped at the house of a farmer, and discovered there a fine milch cow, and, still better, a pretty girl, attired in a neat calico dress, cut low in the neck and short in the sleeves. After several unsuccessful attempts to engage the young lady in conversation, he proposed to her to have the cow milked for his own special benefit. This she indignantly refused. The colonel, not wishing to compromise his reputation for gallantry, remarked that if all the young ladies in Virginia were as beautiful as the one he had the pleasure of addressing, he had no desire to conquer the Confederacy. With a toss of her pretty head, and a slight but most expressive elevation

of her nose, she answered thus: "Well, sir, if all the gentlemen in your army are as ugly as you are, we ladies have no desire to conquer them!"

CHARLESTON WOMEN UNDER FIRE.

DURING the shelling of the city of Charleston, there was a moral sublimity exhibited in many cases by the female portion of that imperilled community, which could but challenge the heart-feeling even of the Federals, whose object it was to destroy or capture that city. An instance of the calm heroism to which women can rise is thus given: A lady, dressed in deep mourning, was seated in the front verandah of her dwelling, sewing, when a Parrott shell came screaming up the harbor, and burst, with an unearthly sound, just above, and in front of the position where she was sitting, throwing its fragments in every direction. But this "mother of Gracchi," as she may be called, remained tranquil in her seat, slowly and sadly raising her eyes toward the point where the shell had burst. She was observed to thoughtfully gaze for an instant upon the deadly scattering missile, and then as calmly to resume her womanly employment in serene silence. From her mourning apparel it was judged she had felt before the horrors and desolation of war. Perhaps her only son had fallen at Wagner, at Sumter, or on James Island. Or perhaps the "loved one of her bosom" had fallen, and the angel of death had no more terror for her.

QUEER DRAFTING IN MARYLAND.

THE Yankee enrolling officer for Salisbury District, Mary land, was very active and thorough in the performance of his duties. One day he went to the house of a countryman, and finding none of the male members of the family at home, made inquiry of an old woman about the number and age of the "males" of the family. After naming several, the old lady stopped. "Is there no one else?" asked the officer. "No," replied the woman, who was a full-blooded Dixieite, none, except Billy Bray." "Billy Bray, where is he?" "He was at the barn a moment ago," said the old lady. Out went the officer, but could not find the man. Coming back, the worthy officer questioned the old lady as to the age of Billy, and went away, after enrolling his name among those to be drafted. The time of the drafting came, and among those on whom the lot fell was the veritable Billy Bray. No one knew him. Where did he live? The officer who enrolled him was called on to produce him; and, lo and behold, Billy Bray was a jackass!-(not a human one, like the enroller, but with four genuine legs, and ears of the usual length)—regularly recorded on the list of drafted men as forming one of the quota of Maryland.

A SOUTHERN SCENE.

"O MAMMY, have you heard the news?"

Thus spake a Southern child,

As in the nurse's aged face,

She upward glanced and smiled.

"What news you mean, my little one?

It must be mighty fine,

To make my darlin's face so red;
Her sunny blue eyes shine."

"Why, Ab'ram Lincoln, don't you know The Yankee President,

Whose ugly picture once we saw,
When up to town we went.

"Well, he is goin' to free you all,
And make you rich and grand,
And you'll be dressed in silk and gold
Like the proudest in the land.

"A gilded coach shall carry you
Where'ere you wish to ride;

And, mammy, all your work shall be
Forever laid aside."

The eager speaker paused for breath,
And then the old nurse said,.

While closer to her swarthy cheek
She pressed the golden head:

"My little missus, stop and res'-
You' talkin' mighty fas';

Jes' look up dere, and tell me what
You see in yonder glass?

"You sees old mammy's wrinkled face, As black as any coal;

And underneath her hankerchief

Whole heaps of knotty wool.

"My darlin's face is red and white,
Her skin is soff and fine,
And on her pretty little head
De yaller ringlets shine.

"My chile, who made dis difference 'Twixt mammy and 'twixt you? You reads de dear Lord's blessed book, And you can tell me true.

"De dear Lord said it must be so;

And, honey, I, for one,

Wid tankful heart will always say,

His holy will be done.

"I tanks Mas' Linkum all de same,

But when I wants for free,

I'll ask de Lord of glory,

Not poor buckra man like he.

"And as for gilded carriages,

Dey's notin' 'tall to see ;

My massa's coach, what carries him,
Is good enough for me.

"And, honey, when your mammy wants
To change her homespun dress,
She'll pray, like dear old missus,
To be clothed with righteousness.

"My work's been done dis many a day, And now I takes my ease,

A waitin, for de Master's call,

Jes' when de Master please.