How they kept a-comin' so cunnin' and fat and small!

How they growed! 'twas a wonder how we found room for 'em all;
But tho' the house was crowded, it empty seem'd that day

When Jenny lay by the fireplace there, and moaned her life away.

And right in there, the Preacher, with Bible and hymn-book stood,
"Twixt the dead and the living," and "hoped 'twould do us good;"
And the little white wood coffin on the table there was set,
And now, as I rub my eyes, it seems as if I could see it yet.

Then that fit of sickness it brought on you, you know,

Just by a thread you hung, and you e'en a'most let go;
And here is the spot I tumbled, an' giv' the Lord His due

When the doctor said the fever'd turned, and he could fetch you through.

Yes, a deal has happened to make this old house dear;
Christenin's, funerals, weddin's-what haven't we had here?

Not a log in this buildin' but its memories has got,

And not a nail in this old floor but touches a tender spot.

Out of the Old House, Nancy-moved up into the New;
All the hurry and worry is just as good as through;
But I tell you a thing right here, that I ain't ashamed to say,
There's precious things in this old house we never can take away.

Here the old house will stand, but not as it stood before;
Winds will whistle through it, and rains will flood the floor,
And, over the hearth onceblazing, the snow-drifts oft will pile,
And the old thing will seem to be a-mournin' all the while.
Fare you well, Old House! you're nought that can feel or see,
But you seem like a human being-a dear old friend to me;
And we never will have a better home, if my opinion stands,
Until we commence a-keepin' house in the "House not made with hands."

XLII. -THE BURNING OF CHICAGO.-Will. Carleton.

Twas night in the beautiful city, the famous and wonderful city, the proud and magnificent city-the Queen of the North and the West! The riches of nations were gathered in wondrous and plentiful store; the swift-speeding bearers of commerce were waiting on river and shore. The great staring walls towered skyward, with visage undaunted and bold; and said, “We are ready, O Winter! come on, with your hunger and cold! sweep down with your storms from the northward, come out from your ice-guarded lair! our larders have food for a nation, our wardrobes have clothing to spare! For, off from the cornbladed prairies, and out from the valleys and hills, the farmer has swept us his harvest, the miller has emptied his mills; and here, in the lap of our city, the treasures of autumn shall rest in golden-crown'd glorious CHICAGO-the Queen of the North and the West!"

'Twas night in the sin-burden'd city, the turbulent vice-laden city, the sin-compass'd, rogue-haunted city-though Queen of the North and the

West! and low, in their caves of pollution, great beasts of humanity growl'd; and over his money-strewn table the gambler bent fiercely and scowled; and men, with scant seeming of manhood, with countenance flaming and fell, drank deep from the fire-laden fountains that sprang from the rivers of hell; and men, with no seeming of manhood, who dreaded the coming of day, prowled, cat-like, for blood-purchased plunder from men little better than they; and men, with lost seeming of manhood, whose dearest-craved glory was shame, whose joys were the sorrows of others, whose harvests were acres of flame, slunk, whispering, and low, in their corners, with bowie and pistol tight press'd, in rogue-haunted, sin-curs'd Chicago-though Queen of the North and the West!

Then up in the streets of the city, the careless and negligent city, the soon to be sacrificed city-doom'd Queen of the North and the West! crept softly and slyly, so tiny it hardly was worthy the name,-crept slyly and soft, through the rubbish, a radiant serpent of flame: the South Wind and West Wind came shrieking-"Rouse up in your strength and your ire! for many a year they have crush'd you, and chain'd you, O Demon of Fire! For many a year they have bound you, and made you their servant and slave! Now rouse you, and dig for this city a fiery and desolate grave freight heavy, with grief and with wailing, her worldscatter'd pride and renown! charge straight on her mansions of splendour, and battle her battlements down! and we, the strong South Wind and West Wind, with thrice-doubled fury possessed, will sweep with you over the city-this Queen of the North and the West!"

Then straight, at the great quiet city, the strong and o'er-confident city, the well-nigh invincible city-doom'd Queen of the North and the West! the Fire-Devil rallied his legions, and speeded them forth on the wind, with tinder and treasures before him, with ruins and tempests behind; the tenement crouch'd 'neath his footstep, the mansion oped wide at his knock, and walls, that had frown'd him defiance, now trembled and fell with a shock; and down on the hot-smoking house-tops came raining a deluge of fire; and serpents of flame writh'd and clamber'd, and twisted on steeple and spire; and beautiful, glorious Chicago, the city of riches and fame, was swept by a storm of destruction, was flooded by billows of flame. The Fire King loom'd high in his glory with crimson and flame-streaming crest, and grinned his fierce scorn on Chicago-doom'd Queen of the North and the West!

Then swiftly the quick-breathing city, the fearful and panic-struck city, the startled and fire-deluged city-rush'd back from the South and the West and loudly the fire-bells were clanging, and ringing their funeral notes; and loudly wild accents of terror came pealing from thousands of throats; and loud was the waggon's deep rumbling, and loud the wheel's clatter and creak; and loud was the calling for succour, from those who were sightless and weak; and loud were the hoofs of the horses, and loud was the trampling of feet; and loud was the gale's ceaseless howling, through fire-lighted alley and street. But louder, yet louder, the crashing of roofs and of walls, as they fell; and louder, yet louder, the roaring that told of the coming of Hell!-The Fire King threw back his black mantle from off his great blood-dappled breast, and sneer'd in the face of Chicago-the Queen of the North and the West!

And then in the desolate city, the treasure-strewn, fire-beaten city, the savage and desperate city-the torch of the North and the West;-a

ruffian kept stealthily prowling with mean and unholy desire, and bore, in dark alleys and corners, his torch of destruction and fire :-the multitude caught him and held him; they gazed in his villainous eyes-they dragg'd him about on the pavement-they stifled his cowardly cries! And one rose and said: "When our city falls thus, 'neath the torch of a knave, each man is a Judge and a Jury, each gutter a criminal's grave! the best line of action to follow for yonder unprincipled scamp, is simply a line of stout cordage, one end on the post of a lamp !"—and high in the hot air they hanged him, unpitied, unwept, and unblest, for laying foul hands on Chicago—the Queen of the North and the West! "Twas morn in the desolate city, the ragged and ruin-heap'd city, the homeless and hot-smoking city-the grief of the North and the West! But down from the West came this bidding-"O Queen! lift in courage thy head! thy friends and thy neighbours awaken, and hasten with raiment and bread." And up from the South came the bidding-"Cheer up, fairest Queen of the Lakes; for, comfort and aid shall be coming from out our savannahs and brakes!" And down from the North came the bidding-"O city, be hopeful of cheer; we've something to spare for thy sufferers, for all of our suffering here!" And up from the East came the bidding-"O city, be dauntless and bold! look hither for food and for raiment, look hither for credit and gold!" And all through the World went the bidding-" Bring hither your choicest and best, for weary and hungry Chicago-sad Queen of the North and the West!"

O crush'd but invincible city! O broken but fast-rising city! O glorious but unconquered city-still Queen of the North and the West! The long golden year of the future, with treasures increasing and rare, shall glisten upon thy rich garments, shall twine in the folds of thy hair: from out the black heaps of thy ruins, new columns of beauty shall rise; and glittering domes shall fling grandly the nation's proud flag to the skies! From off the wide prairies of splendour the treasures of autumn shall pour; the breezes shall sweep from the northward, and hurry the ships to thy shore; for, heaven will look downward in mercy on those who've come under its rod; and, haply, again they will prosper, and bask in the blessings of God! Once more thou shalt stand, midst the cities, by prosperous breezes caress'd, O grand and unconquered Chicago-still Queen of the North and the West!

XLIII.—THE DEATH OF THE OLD SERGEANT.--(Adaptation.)— B. F. Willson.

"COME a little nearer, doctor! Thank you. Let me take the cup: Draw your chair in-draw it closer :-just one other little sup! It's soothing!" "Now you're better ?" "Ah! I know this won't last

long:

Doctor, you've done all you could do-all that's right, and nothing wrong!

"Feel my pulse, sir, if you want to-but it ain't much use to try!" "Never say that!" said the surgeon. "Courage, Burton! don't say

die!"

"What we say will make no difference ;-there's a rising something here; A goin' up—up—somewhere:-I wish Harry would appear!

"Doctor! what has been the matter ?" "You were very faint, they say: You must try to get to sleep now." "Doctor, have I been away ?" "Not that anybody knows of."-"I'm afraid my head's not rightBut I'll tell you all about it::-can you stay awhile to-night?

"I have got my 'marching orders!' and I'm ready, too, to go!Doctor, did you say I fainted? But I know it was not so; For, as sure as I'm a sergeant, and was wounded on the Hill, I've this very night been back there!-you may doubt it if you will. "At first, I was in quarters, and the guards had been their round, And the lights had been all lowered, and the noises stopped, around: They had not been gone five minutes, when ... some one called my

name:

'ORDERLY SERGEANT-ROBERT BURTON !'-just that way-quite clear it

came !

"I thought it might be fancy, till I heard the voice once more:

ORDERLY SERGEANT-ROBERT BURTON !'-and I turned round to the

door;

...

Then... I some-how don't remember till a sudden flash displayed, All about me, the broad river, where an anchorage was made.

"We were waiting to be ferried to the field we were to fight, And I saw the dark bluffs plainly, with the cannon on the height; But a palpitation seized me-when a bugle sounded soft;

High it seemed-but all was darkness, as I turned my eyes aloft!

"And the same mysterious voice said-as if speaking from some towerORDERLY SERGEANT-ROBERT BURTON! IT IS NOW THE ELEVENTH HOUR!'

Doctor Austin, sir-what day's this? Is it Wednesday ?"-" Wednesday night;

And to-morrow will be New Year."-" Yes, to-morrow: right-quite right.

"What time is it, Doctor Austin ?"-"Nearly twelve."-" Then don't

you go:

Can it be that all this happened?-all this, but an hour ago?...
Where was I? Ah, I know!-We lay at anchor off the coast;
Well, the same old gun-boat came, and took me over to my post.
"I passed the two log-houses-you remember?—by the mill,
And came where Webster ranged his guns, in a crescent, on the hill:
There was snow on all around me-there was silence in the air-
And only for this cloak of mine, and the old cap lying there,

66

'(Which showed me all was real), I'd have thought that I was dead; For my footsteps were as silent as the snow beneath my tread : 'Death and silence!-death and silence!'-As I stepped my way along, These words kept always with me, like the burden of a song.

"Then before me stood a Tower-high, massive, dark, and dread, With the Old Flag, I have followed long, out-hanging overhead; But suddenly the doorway opened, and a bright and dazzling glare Showed me many of my Comrades moving forward up the stair.

"Halt! who goes there?' The challenge of the Sentry stopped my

way:

'I am a friend,' I said, ‘if you are.'—' Then advance without delay.' I advanced. That sentry, Doctor, was...Elijah Ballantyne !First of all to fall that morning, after we had formed our line!

"Welcome!' said he, 'Serjeant! welcome! By that countersign you show,

You'll be welcome at Head-Quarters!" And he meant my wound, I know.

Then a sudden shame came on me, for his uniform was new,

While mine was dirty-stained with blood—and old and tattered too.

"Ah!' said he, 'your clothes are thread-bare; they look shabby in this light:

Hurry back for fresh equipments-but be here by twelve to-night!' And the next thing I remember-you were sitting there-and I— Doctor! did you hear a footstep? No? I'd like to say good-bye!—

"Doctor! please to give my musket and my knapsack, when I'm gone,
To my son-my son that's coming-for I know he's hurrying on!
Tell him his old father blessed him-if he may not hear me bless-
Bid him carry that old musket... Hark! I know his footstep!-Yes!-

"Thank God!-Good-bye, my son! I'm on promotion-roll to-night! 'ROBERT BURTON ! TO HEAD-QUARTERS!'-Ay!-The call!—the tower! the light!".

The light of life went with him, as the gray Old Sergeant passed Through the gateway of the Death-Tower-in new uniform at last!

"6
XLIV.- BETSEY AND I ARE OUT."-Will Carleton.
DRAW up the papers, lawyer, and make 'em good and stout;
For things at home are crossways, and Betsey and I are out:
We, who have work'd together so long as man and wife,
Must pull in single harness for the rest of our natʼral life.
"What is the matter?" say you. I swan, it's hard to tell!
Most of the years behind us we've pass'd by very well:
I have no other woman-she has no other man-
Only we've lived together as long as ever we can!

The first thing I remember whereon we disagreed,
Was somethin' concernin' heaven-a difference in our creed:
We arg'ed the thing at breakfast, we arg'ed the thing at tea,
And the more we arg'ed the question, the more we didn't agree.

And the next thing that I remember was when we lost a cow:
She had kick'd the bucket for certain, the question was only-how
I held my own opinion, and Betsey another had;

And when we were done a-talkin', we both of us was mad!