Well done, gallant Morgan!

Strike with might and main,
Till the fair fields redden

With a gory rain;
Smite them by the roadside,

Smite them in the wood,

By the lonely valley,

And the purpling flood;
'Neath the mystic starlight,

'Neath the glare of day,
Harass, sting, affright them,
Scatter them and slay;-
Beard, who durst, our chieftain!
Blind him-if ye can,—

But woe worth the Hessian thief

Who meets him, man to man!

There's a lurid purpose
Brooding in his breast,
Born of solemn passion
And a deep unrest:
For our ruined homesteads

And our ravaged land,
For our women outraged
By the dastard hand,
For our thousand sorrows

And our untold shame,
For our blighted harvests,
For our towns aflame-
He has sworn (and recks not
Who may cross his path)-
That the foe shall feel him
In his torrid wrath-
That, while will and spirit

Hold one spark of life,

Blood shall stain his broadsword,

Blood shall whet his knife:-
On! ye Hessian horsemen !

Crush him-if ye can!

But woe worth your stanchest slave Who meets him, man to man!

"Tis no time for pleasure!

Doff the silken vest!
Up, my men, and follow

Marion of the West!

Strike with him for freedom

Strike with main and might,
'Neath the noonday splendor,

'Neath the gloom of night;
Strike by rock and roadside,
Strike in wold and wood;
By the shadowy valley,

By the purpling flood;

On where Morgan's war-horse
Thunders in the van!

God! who would not gladly die

Beside that glorious man?

Hath the wily Swamp Fox

Come again to earth?
Hath the soul of Sumter

Owned a second birth?
From the western hill-slopes
Starts a hero-form,
Stalwart, like an oak tree,

Restless, like the storm!
His an eye of lightning!

His a heart of steel!

Flashing deadly vengeance,
Thrilled with fiery zeal!
Hound him down, ye robbers!

Slay him-if ye can!

But woe worth the hireling knave
Who meets him, man to man!

AN HONEST FOE BETTER THAN A FALSE FRIEND.

DURING one of the raids of John Morgan, an interesting i cident occurred at Salem, Indiana. Some of his men proceeded out west of the town to burn the bridges and watertank on the railroad. On the way out they captured a couple of persons living in the country, one of whom was a Quaker. The Quaker strongly objected to being made a prisoner. The Confederates wanted to know if he was not strongly opposed to the South? "Thee is right," said the Quaker, "I am." "Well, did you vote for Lincoln? "Thee is right; I did vote for Abraham," was the calm reply.

"Well, what are you?"

"Thee may naturally suppose that I am a Union man. Cannot thee let me go to my home?"

"Yes, yes; go and take care of the old woman," was the welcome answer.

The other prisoner was trotted along with them, but not relishing the summary manner in which the Quaker was disposed of, he said:

"What do you let him go for? He is a black abolitionist. Now, look here; I voted for Breckinridge, and have always

been opposed to the war. I am opposed to fighting the South, decidedly."

"You are," said the Ranger; "you are what they call around here a Copperhead, ain't you?"

"Yes, yes," said the Butternut, propitiatingly; "that's what all my neighbors call me, and they know I ain't with them."

Ranger. "Here's a
Look, here old man,

"Come here, Dave!" halloed the Butternut, just come and look at him. where do you live? We want what horses you have got to spare, and if you've got any greenbacks, just shell them out!" And they took all he had.

GENERAL MORGAN'S ESCAPE FROM THE OHIO PENITENTIARY.

GENERAL JOHN MORGAN was honored with an ovation on the 7th of January, 1864, on his arrival at Richmond. The following is an account of his escape from the Ohio Peni tentiary, and subsequent adventures:

"Their bedsteads were small iron stools, fastened to the wall with hinges. They could be hooked up, or allowed to stand on the floor; and, to prevent any suspicion, for several days before any work was attempted, they made it a habit to let them down, and sit at their doors and read. Captain Hines superintended the work, while General Morgan kept watch to divert the attention of the sentinel, whose duty it was to come round during the day, and observe if any thing was going on. One day this fellow came in while Hokersmith was down under the floor, boring away, and missing him,

said: 'Where is Hokersmith?' The general replied: 'He is in my room sick;' and immediately pulled a document out of his pocket, and said to him: 'Here is a memorial I have drawn up to forward to the government at Washington What do you think of it?'

"The fellow, who, perhaps, could not read, being highly flattered at the general's condescension, took it, and very gravely looked at it for several moments before he vouchsafed any reply; then, handing it back, he expressed himself highly pleased with it. In the meantime, Hokersmith had been signalled, and came up, professing to feel 'very unwell.' This sentinel was the most difficult and dangerous obstaclo in their progress, because there was no telling at what time he would enter during the day, and at night he came regularly every two hours to each cell, and inserted a light through the bars of their door, to see that they were quietly sleeping; and frequently, after he had completed his rounds, he would slip back in the dark, with a pair of India-rubber shoes on, to listen at their cells if any thing was going on. The general says that he would almost invariably know of his presence by a certain magnetic shudder which it would produce; but, for fear that this acute sensibility might sometimes fail him, he broke up small particles of coal every morning, and sprinkled them before the cell-door, which would always announce his coming.

"Every thing was now ready to begin the work; so, about the latter part of October, they began to bore. All were busy-one, making a rope-ladder by tearing and twisting up strips of bed-ticking, another making bowie-knives, and another twisting up towels. They labored perseveringly for several days, and, after boring through nine inches of cement, and nine thicknesses of brick placed edgewise, they began to