the first few nights. While the tail of the former, speaking as children would, seemed only two or three yards long, this one seemed to measure forty rods and over, while even beyond that distance there was a luminous track. Niglt after night, I stole out of bed and went out upon the prarie to look upon it. Had I been superstitious, I should surely have believed this was the one of which I had been' told in my childhood, that should come without note or warning, and striking the earth, set it on fire, and leave it to roll through space, a burning ball. It did seem as though it would be an easy thing for this one to curl its immense tail in serpent folds about our globe, and envelope it in a winding sheet of flame. Whence came it. If but lately created, what may we not look for next? If as old as creation, where has it been roaming all these thousand years. Is space so illimitable that there are others like it wrought by God's hand at the same time, who after travelling all the lifetime of creation, have not yet come in sight. Heavens! What a thought! It so crowds the measurement of eternity into my soul that I grow faint and dizzy. war, war. And the same I judge is the case down east, from the tenor of all the letters I receive. Alas, for our darling country that it should be so. And yet, I am pleased at one thing; though all that write to me are enthusiastic in their patriotism, willing to sacrifice their last dollar, and last friend, and last drop of blood for the Union, not one expresses the least ill will towards our Southern brethren, for brethren they are, though they have sworn themselves off from us. They cannot break their birth-ties. The prodigal was as much the son of his father when he eat the dry husks of swinedom, as when he revelled on the fatted calf. I hear pity and sorrow expressed for them and their nnloyalty, and while their acts so often excite indignation, there seems no revengeful spirit harbored against the actors. This is well, and speaks eloquently for the Christianity of the north. But what shall I say of the terms which the South and its friends make use of towards us. They are barbaric in the extreme. You must know that though we live in the central counties of one of the most loyal States in the Union, we are yet in the midst of secessionism. It makes my heart ache to write it, but so it is. The early settlers of this county were originally from Virginia, the Carolinas, and Tennesse, and Kentucky, emigrating first to Indiana, and thence working westward to Iowa. And they have brought with them all those traits by which we recognize the low whites of the South. They do not hesitate to say openly and with oaths that would make your hair stand straight, that "they hope the South will conquer and send its troops north, and make slaves of all the Yankees and Abolitionists.” If they dared, if the Union feeling in the surrounding counties was not too strong, they would not hesitate to hang every patriot, man and woman, amongst us. How dreadful is such a state of things. How fearful to hear women say, as they did, when one little company marched out of our town on its way to Missouri, they "hoped every man amongst them would have a bullet lodged in their heart." Bro. T., it's very hard to be a Christian amongst such people! I assure you it is. It's hard to keep down the angry tides that will at such times swell within one's bosom. I thank heaven they have never talked so in my presence. I have said again and again that no secessionist should ever breathe a word of his treason in my house. It's an humble one, but, Do you ask me for the news? It is war, it shall never harbor a traitor, never, NEVER. To go back to women. I was glad, very glad, to see that Miss Davis was to be one of the associated editors of the Repository. Ever since her advent amongst us as the author of "Marion Lester," I have been watching her literary course and with intense satisfaction. Well and nobly has she fulfilled the promises of that volume. Her tales, while they are sprightly, original and beautifully written, are totally devoid of that sickly sentimentalism that so often characterizes the efforts of young writers. I rejoice that you have now secured her best efforts for the Repository, and trust that her health will be such as to enable her to favor us with a communication every month. Perhaps you will think I ought to say a word of your western editor. Really the poor, dyspeptic thing does need a word of encouragement, but what can I say for her, or how can you expect much of her, with poor health, no help, hard times and all the trials of an emigrants' life for her portion. Knowing her to be a conscientious little body, I will venture to promise, though, that she will do what she can for you, and trust that can will not mean the occupying of one half a number, as was unfortunately the case in June! "No, I don't; not as a general thing. Were this a war for the invasion of a foreign land, for the acquisition of more territory, I would be down upon it; but it's a war, holy as the Revolution, a war for the defence of our country and our constitution, and I would be proud to have my boys, even as common soldiers, engaged in it." acts which have marked this war, and not long to see how tight I could draw a rope about a traitor's neck! But I'll stop here and do what too many of us forget to do in these perilous times, read a page or two in that old fashioned book which tells us that, "blessed are the peace-makers." But first I must tell you, that my boys, though too young to fight for their country, are not too young to love it dearly. Even little Sumner, when he hears the Tribune read, will seize his little bow and arrow, and exclaim wildly, "if I had been there, this is the way I'd let them had it," and then he will tighten one string and pick out a plumb arrow and let it fly far off into the prairie. "If Jeff Davis and his troops should conquer, what would they do with us, mother?" asked Frank one day, when the news from the seat of war was unusually discouraging. "Make, slaves of us all, probably," I answered carelessly. Slaves, mother: slaves of us!" and his eyes flashed. "I tell you what now, there'll "But how would you feel to have them sent be some fighting done before ever they do that. home to you dead." "If their wounds were anywhere but in their back or heels, I should be happier and prouder than when I first clasped them to my bosom. Every blood-stain which they bore would be a glory-spot to me." "And you'd as lief they'd be killed as not !" "No, indeed," said I fiercely. "I love my boys as truly as you love yours, but somebody's sons must die on the battle-field, and why not mine. Somebody must sacrifice and fearfully too. Some heart's dearest idols must be torn from them before this war is closed. Shall not I, who was born under the stars and stripes, be willing to do something, to lose something?" O, my friend, isn't it hard to be calm, when one thinks of the orphans and widows and ten thousand domestic ties, which this war will break up forever. I can be patient with the masses of the South, because I believe them misguided, but I cannot be patient with the ring-leaders of this trouble, and though I profess and mean to be a Christian in all my dealings with humanity, yet I am free to say, that if Davis, Floyd, Wigfall, Beauregard, Toombs, and the rest of the leaders of the rebellion were in my power, they would think old Nero had got hold of them. Can I think of the Pratt Street massacre, of the Ellsworth assasination, and the hundred other dastardly and guerrilla I can take down prairie chickens, and wild ducks on the wing, two at a time, and it's a pity if I can't shoot a few of those rebels. Slaves! mother, they'll never make slaves of us Iowa boys." I don't believe they will, Bro. T. COUNTRY MUSIC. C. A. S. "How is it possible," writes a friend, "for you to live contentedly, happily, where you have no music? You who once lived and luxuriated in sweet sounds and deemed no pleasure so delightful as that afforded by a noble orchestra or a sweet singer? And now to be absolutely deprived of all music !"' My friend, God never gave human being a greater proof of His love than when He conferred upon them that certain adaptability which enables them to fit, body and soul, into whatever niche claims their presence. This adaptability explains a great many mysteries. It would explain the one into which you inquire, were there not another which renders this explanation unnecessary. The fact is, you are mistaken in your premises. What! no music in the country? "No soft winds murmuring as they pass, Insects humming 'mid the flowers, Sudden falls of sunny showers, Blackbirds singing in the glen, Songs of sturdy, bravest men !" Did you ever spend a summer in the country, and were your senses open to the thousand melodies of nature? Did you ever hear the rain pattering on the trees close by your windows or on the roof just over your head? Have you listened to the chorus of birds at early dawn, and the song of the robin and bob-o-link all day? Were you ever wakened by the sparrow twittering on the eaves, or the stirring reveille of chanticleer as he sounded his bugle to call up his sleeping wives? No music, forsooth! Did you ever listen to the grand orchestral anthem of a choir of bullfrogs, when, with ten thousand voices, from the sublimest bass to the shrillest treble, they gave sudden and inspired expression to their musical enthusiasm? Were your ears ever bombarded by the strident and warlike fanfaronade of a belligerent musquitoe? and did you ever wonder where so insignificant an insect got so musical a voice? By eating animal food. All great singers are carniverous by system and the musquitoe is no exception. They are horrid eaters, and the most ferocious of known animals. "If they were the size of a pigeon they would eat or rather drink up the human race in a single summer." Oh, how cruelly nature has armed them! How they will fasten themselves upon your skin! Did you ever study the anatomy of a musquitoe? From a sheath which it wears on its head, precisely like a surgical instrument case, or the arsenal of an executioner, it thrusts out and elongates five or six arms,cutting, piercing, sawing, tearing, barbed, dentated arms-arms which are a fac simile of every instrument of torture which successive generations of the wicked have been able to invent; and these arms it mercilessly buries in your flesh at every convenient juncture. Through each of these instruments which are hollow, it breathes and drinks your blood, as long as its intestines can receive it, and these intestines are of a surprizing elasticity, capable of being distended to three or four times their natural capacity. Now mark the consequences. This blood intoxicates it; it remains in a temporary apoplexy upon the wound, or retires a little from its victim to sleep off its drunkenness, like Polyphemus, in a convent. Now is the time, if you are wise, for you to fall upon and put it to death. But we have wandered so far from music, that our discourse has culminated in anatomy, and so we take leave of it to touch upon a subject that is cousin-germain-dancing: BALL-ROOM ETIQUETTE IN THE MIDDLE AGES. To those familiar with the elegant etiquette of the modern ball-room, it may be interesting to have an inkling of that which prevailed in Continental Europe three or four centuries ago, and the state of civilization in the most elevated and illustrious circles. We present certain rules and regulations drawn up by Frederic William, Grand Duke of Saxony for the government of a ball-room at a court-ball, called in the German language Helilstanz. This tanz was held annually in various cities of Germany and lasted always three days. As its name purports it was strictly a dance of the nobility, and was a time-honored gathering, or two centuries before the one for whose management Duke William felt it necessary to provide such stringent checks, it was already old. The following are the articles which are authentic as they are curious. Article 1st. It is hereby commanded, for the management of this tanz, that the Masterof-ceremonies, either the evening before, or on the day on which it shall commence, shall first proceed to the church, and listen to the word of God, after which, having received the expected nobles, he shall peaceably conduct them there also, thereby insuring that this tanz shall be begun and ended in the fear of God. Article 2d. When the Mayor shall have peaceably opened the council chambers, the Master-of-ceremonies shall collect the young ladies and noble matrons who have arrived at his own house, and thence led by the music of the harp, shall march with them in grand order to the council-house. Article 3d. It is strictly forbidden, that any one shall take any "Torgische" beer from the cellar of the council-house on credit, before the commencement of the tanz, but shall pay for it on the spot. Article 4th. It is strictly enacted that any persons having a quarrel together shall defer it to another occasion. It is forbidden under penalty of twenty-five gulden to tear each other's clothing, to challenge or fight with naked weapons, thereby doing mischief and terrifying the ladies. Article 5th. It is ordered that every nobleman who intends to take part in the tanz shall, eight days previous to the same, pay to the Master-of-ceremonies one dollar for the defraying of expenses, and whoever neglects the terms shall be charged double. Article 6th. Every noble in the tanz is ordered to behave himself modestly and with propriety, not throwing off his coat, not running or screaming, not abducting matrons or young ladies, or otherwise behaving uncourteously or unseemly towards them, such as using indecent gestures or words, or otherwise behaving indecently, not crowding or springing into the dance, or using other light conduct towards the ladies such as pulling off their caps and the like. Article 7th. It is freely allowed to commence the tanz as early as is desired, but it shall in no case continue after eight o'clock in the evening. Article 8th-As it is necessary that the nobles take lodgings with the citizens, it is ordered that they pay their bills honestly and peaceably, and if the host shall accuse them rightfully, of any misconduct, they shall pay the sum of five dollars as fine, and whenever they do any damage, such as breaking windows, overturning stoves or the like, they shall pay for it. Article 9th-All gay and unrestrained youths are forbidden to make an uproar in the streets at night, under penalty. Article 10th-Any Knight or Baron guilty of public or private indecency, shall be imprisoned four weeks. Article 11th-Although it is impossible for any noble and honorablę lady to behave in decently or improperly, yet, as it is, also notorious that there is here and there a young lady who is wild, bold and unrestrained in her conduct, all such are hereby warned, and every honorable father of such is warned to restrain his daughter or ward, and see to it that they behave quietly, modestly and reservedly at the dance, not giggling, romping or holding superfluous gossip with the men persons, thereby setting a bad example to other noble ladies and mortifying other dear young girls. But should, by any oversight, any such impropriety be manifested, it should be the duty of the Master of ceremonies to warn and restrain them, as such conduct will not be endured. Article 12th-All noblemen are forbidden to drive rapidly with coaches or puns in the city, or to shout and make uncommon noises, shoot in the street, or similar "luxurious acts," under penalty of having the city gates shut against them, or being delivered up to the authorities. We trust our readers will duly ponder the foregoing regulations and hereafter sedulously observe them. AN OLD MEMORY. A very amusing mistake was many years ago perpetrated one Sabbath in a certain pulpit, of a character which, if report speaks truth, is not altogether without a parallel in other pulpits. We have never seen it in print and think it quite too good to be suppressed. The preacher was a venerable old man, an extemporaneous speaker after the old style, and withal a conscientious supporter of the doctrine of the Trinity. This doctrine having been irreligiously called in question by certain undevout sects, the good man had devoted several sermons to its triumphant substantiation. Strangely enough, however, it was pretty loudly whispered among his congregation, that his proofs were not irrefragable, and those whispers coming to the old man's ears, he determined to make one great effort that should set the matter right forever. Much were the research and the midnight oil that he consumed in searching for a text that none might gainsay, and his efforts were at length rewarded. On the Sabbath in question, he entered the pulpit so radiant with satisfaction, his congregation felt instinctively that some great and welcome boon had been vouchsafed their beloved pastor. After the usual preliminary exercises were finished, the venerable man arose and stated his fears that his former proofs, sufficient to him, of the great and holy mystery of the Trinity, had not been sufficient to establish its truth in their minds. Now, however, blessed be God, whose divine interposition had directed his dim eyes! he was able to offer them a proof which, so far as he knew had never been advanced before. Every Bible in the church was opened to the passage, Psalms xvii. 33, "He maketh my feet like hinds' feet," but the pastor's eyes were dim and he read, "He maketh my feet like hen's feet, and establisheth me in high places." "In this humble bird, my friends," said he, "I find a mysterious but triumphant expression of the holy doctrine I seek to establish; mark the wisdom of the Psalmist, as the hen's foot has three toes, so the Divine body of the Trinity is made up of three persons and would not be perfect with a less number. Mark the wisdom of the Psalmist again, as the hen's foot with its three toes scratches the earth for the mainte nance of her young, so the three persons in the Godhead labor evermore for the salvation of the world. Again, as the hen calls her chickens by the sound of her voice, so the Godhead calls on mankind by his Word." lighted the ear of the world. Not so, certain other martial figures which, all along the entire length of that warlike procession, here and there made their appearance, and attracted universal attention. These were the pets of the Zouaves, all clad in uniform; little animals of various kinds, that had been fondled and cared for through long campaigns, by those rough and seemingly unfeeling men, carried with them wherever they went, sharing their food and their soldiers' bed, and furnishing in their turn, many an hour of pleasure, innocent as that of childhood. Among the most prominent of these pets was a little dog that had, for some service, long been the favorite of the whole regiment. It marched gravely in the ranks, dressed in a Zouave blanket, with a little rapier and some other implements of war buckled at its side, and, with all the propriety of a well-drilled soldier, looked neither to the right nor left. As the good old pastor proceeded in this ingenious strain, he could not fail to observe the uneasy stir among his auditors, the telegraphic signals flashed from eye to eye throughout the house, and the curious expressions stretching down the corners of the mouth, especially among the younger members; but though grieved at the untimely mirth of his lambs, the dignity of his subject would not permit him to seem to observe it; nor did he, until after the completion of a really ingenious discourse, and his deacon had whispered in his ear, dream that he had made his text as well as his sermon. The foregoing recalls a mistake of a similar character of which we overheard.' It occurred in the deacon's desk, however, instead of the pulpit. At a Sabbath noon prayer meeting, the deacon, according to custom, read the lesson with which the service commenced, expatiating as he went on. The following pass-Scenes of carnage and death, told a tale of genage occurred in it, "And Aaron made atonement for the people's sins," while the good deacon read it in this way, "And Aaron made ointment for the people's shins." ZOUAVE'S AND THEIR PETS. We have just been reading an account of the bravery and gallantry of our gay, young Zouaves, in a recent engagement with the rebels. We should be surprised to hear of anything that was not brave and gallant, so that they were concerned in it. There is something in the very name, suggestive of the bold, brave and dashing. There is something also suggestive of the tender and true, and could the different incidents of this character, in which these gay young soldiers have figured, be recorded, they would furnish a very charming volume. We remember reading an account of the entrance of the African Zouaves into Paris, after the Crimean war. They had been many years in Algiers, where they were long engaged in fighting the battles of Napoleon III. Most of them, unlike our own Zouaves, were scarred and weather-beaten veterans, many of whom had seen a hundred fields, and all bronzed with the fierce suns of Africa. Their strange costume and wild aspect, together with their active and elastic tread, seemed in wonderful keeping with the tales of their ferocious daring and almost superhuman feats of valor which had for so long a time startled, yet de It was a pleasant sight, and suggestive of softening thoughts. Those little living playthings cherished and protected and loved amid tle-hearted moments and sweet humanities. A very touching incident connected with this love of pets, is related by Mons. R. P. Dumas, the French soldier and writer, in one of his touching latters from the camp of Sebastopol, and it furnished one of the few pleasant epi sodes in that fearful war of the Orient. "Do you wish," he inquires, "that I should of a little animal, worthy to figure among the amuse you for a moment, by relating the story celebrities of its species? A Zouave had a kit ten of which he was extremely fond. He had brought it from Africa, perhaps from France, perhaps from the paternal hearthstone. Be it as it may, the kitten had become the insepara ble companion of the joyous soldier. In his its master. At his meal-times, the kitten rehours of repose, the kitten slept by the side of ceived exactly its rations, subtracted from his own dish; and during marches it rode upon the knapsack of the trooper, whose patient and unwearied submission to the burden, it repaid by a thousand playful frolics when they came to a halt. "There came for the master a day of battle. His regiment was to face the Russians at Alma The bugle sounded, the Zouave ran to arms and placed himself in the line: the kitten was at its post. The cannons poured their grape-shot inlo the Zouave ranks, but the kitten was not dismayed. The melee commenced; the soldier |