passed so near one of these that, through an open port-hole, he could see men playing cards and hear them converse. At Diamond place he landed, and bade adieu to his faithful 'dug-out.' After hobbling through the bottom to the hills, he reached the residence of a man who had been robbed by the savages of all his mules and horses, except an old worthless gelding and a half-broken colt. He gave him the choice of them, and he mounted the colt, but found that he travelled badly. Providentially he came upon a very fine horse in the bottom, tied by a blind-bridle, without a saddle. As a basket and old bag were lying near him, he inferred that a negro had left him there, and that a Yankee camp was not far distant. He exchanged bridles, saddled the horse and mounted him, after turning loose the colt.

"After riding so as to avoid the supposed position of the Yankees, he encountered one of the thieves, who was returning to it from a successful plundering excursion. He was loaded with chickens and a bucket of honey. He com. menced catechising Lamar in the true Yankee style, who concluded it best to satisfy his curiosity by sending him where could know all that the devil could teach him. With a pistol bullet through his forehead, he left him, with his honey and poultry lying in the path, to excite the conjectures of his fellow-thieves.

"He approached with much caution the next settlement. There he hired a guide, for fifty dollars, to pilot him to Hankerson's ferry on Big Black River, which he wished to reach near that point, without following any road. The fellow he hired proved to be a traitor. When he got near the ferry, Lamar sent him ahead to ascertain whether any Yankees were in the vicinity. The conversation and manners of the man had excited his suspicions, and as soon as he

left him he concealed himself, but remained where he could watch his return. He remained much longer than he expected; but returned and reported that the way was open, and that no Yankees were near the ferry. After paying him, he took the precaution to avoid the ferry, and to approach the river above it, instead of following the guide's directions By this he flanked a force of the Yankees posted to intercept him; but as he entered the road near the river bank, one of them, who seemed to be on the right flank of a long line of sentinels, suddenly rose up within ten feet of him, and ordered him to halt. He replied with a pistol shot, which killed the sentinel dead, and, wheeling his horse, galloped through the bottom up the river; but the Yankees sent a shower of balls after him, two of which wounded his right hand, injuring four of his fingers. One grazed his right leg, cutting two holes through his pantaloons, and another cut through one side of my sword scabbard, spoiling its beauty, but leaving a mark which makes me prize it more highly. Seven bullets struck the horse, which reeled under him, but had strength and speed to bear him a mile from his pursuers before he fell and died. Lamar then divided his clothes and arms into packages, and swam Big Black River safely. He did not walk far before a patriotic lady supplied him with the only horse she had a stray one, which came to her house after the Yankees had carried off all the animals belonging to the place. On this he reached Raymond at two o'clock in the morning, changed his horse for a fresh one, carried his despatch to Jackson that morning, and rejoiced us all by an unexpected visit the same day."

EASILY SATISFIED.

JUST after the battle of Prairie Grove, a meeting took place between details of Confederate and Federal officers for the purpose of arranging a cartel for the exchange of prisoners. The meeting was held at Cane IIall, Arkansas.

In a small building close on the only strect of that crooked village, three Confederate officers, in their best gray uniform, were sitting on one side of a table, and three Federal officers, in blue, on the other. An old gray-headed and gray-bearded man came to the door, and incontinently walked in, with the query

"Es this the Provo's offis ?"

He was dressed in brown homespun, and had an old white wool hat on his head, tied on with a handkerchief, and he leaned on a brown stick.

"Es this the Provo's offis? I want a pass."

Some one here attempted to explain to the old gentleman that he was in the wrong shop; but the old fellow, who was a little deaf, it seems, mistook this as a hesitation to give him what he wanted.

"I'm a good l'yal citizen. I've got my pertection papers. I've been to get paid for my forage. It's all right."

There was a slight inclination to laugh by several present; but the old gentleman continued to make the most earnest protestations as to his "l'yalty."

with a

"Look here, my friend," said Colonel Wsmile, "you had better take care what you say about loyalty. Look at these gentlemen"-pointing over the table-" don't you see they are Southern officers ?"

The old man's hand trembled as he now adjusted a dilapidated pair of spectacles to his eyes, and ciosely examined the

gray uniforms with the velvet collars and brass stars. IIis hands trembled more violently. For the time being he seemed to forget the place and surroundings in his fear and bewilderment. At last, in great distress, he turned to the gentlemen, and began to stammer out his explanations:

"Well, gentlemen, I didn't think. I-I didn't mean any thing. I've allers ben a Southern man. I've jest got one son, and he's with Marmaduke. The only other man grown that's fit for sarvice is my darter's husband and he's with Rector, and-and-"

"Hold on, old fellow !" cried Colonel W your being a loyal citizen ?"

"what about

"Will you inform me," asked Colonel P, who sat next to Colonel W, "who paid you for your forage?"

The old man turned to look at t'other side of the table. Again he adjusted his spectacles, and looked at the blue coats, and in an agony of distress he took off his spectacles and his handkerchief and hat, and while he leaned on both hands on the table, the tears ran down the wrinkles of his old face.

"Well, well, gentlemen," he at last found words to say. you go on an' fight it out among yourselves. I can live in any government."

NORAIL MCCARTEY.

A REMINISCENCE OF THE MISSOURI CAMPAIGN.

NORAH MCCARTEY won by her courage the name of the Jennie Deans of the West. She lived in the interior of Missouri-a little, pretty, black-eyed girl, with a soul as

buge as a mountain, and a form as frail as a fairy's, and the courage and pluck of a buccaneer into the bargain. Her father was an old man-a secessionist. She had but a single brother, just growing from boyhood to youthhood, but sickly and lamed. The family had lived in Kansas during the troubles of '57, when Noral was a mere girl of fourteen, or thereabouts. But even then her beauty, wit and devilmay-care spirit were known far and wide; and many were the stories told along the border of her sayings and doings. Among other charges laid to her door, it is said that she broke all the hearts of the young bloods far and wide, and tradition does even go so far as to assert that, like Bob Acres, she killed a man once a week, keeping a private church-yard for the purpose of decently burying her dead. Be this as it may, she was then, and is now, a dashing, fine-looking, lively girl, and a prettier heroine than will be found in a novel, as will be seen if the good-natured reader has a mind to follow us to the close of this sketch.

Not long after the Federals came into her neighborhood, and after they had forced her father to take the oath, which he did partly because he was a very old man, unable to take the field, and hoped thereby to save the security of his household, and partly because he could not help himself; not long after these two important events in the history of our heroine, a body of men marched up one evening, whilst she was on a visit to a neighbor's, and arrested her sickly, weak brother, bearing him off to Leavenworth City, where he was lodged in the military guard-house.

It was nearly night before Norah reached home. When she did so, and discovered the outrage which had been perpetrated and the grief of her old father, her rage knew no bounds. Although the mists were falling and the night was