But, Cassius-like, he "plunges in,
Accoutred as he was!"

Sausage, and cheese, and 'am again, With draughts of wine between; Down that vast throat of British gauge, In quick procession seen!

What grunts of bliss beneath that hat,
O'er this unlooked-for manna!
While, as he munched, still rose and fell
The buff and red bandanna.

At last he's full; but quickly now

His brain is all astir,

To forge fit bolts of caustic for
His chief, the Thunderer.

His pen is drawn, and o'er his sheet
Fast its vocation plies,
In telling what he thought he saw
Wherein his genius lies.

But soon the inspiration's o'er;
With wine and sausage pressed,
His eye-lids close, his burly head
Down drops upon his breast.

Hark to the thunders of his snore,

In deep bassoon-like manner!
While with each swell still rose and fell
The buff and red bandanna.

Rest, Russell, rest! thy race is o'er ;
And well you won it too;
For no such time was ever made
Since days of Waterloo.

Now let us sing in jolly ring

Great Russell's martial spree; When next he goes to see a fight, May he get there to see.

Ye poets, who may sing some day,
In strains rich, racy, full,

The race from Bull Run, don't forget
The run of Mr. Bull.

CHANTICLEER.

THE TEAMSTERS' PANIC.

BY WALTER ANONYM.

T Bull Run, ere the sun was low,

AT

'Twas man to man and blow for blow,

For fierce and furious was the foe,

And deadly was the rivalry.

But Bull Run saw another sight,
When all the teamsters, pale with fright,
And panic-stricken, took to flight,
Led by the British chivalry!

With sword and jack-knife fast arrayed,
Each teamster drew his valiant blade,
And furious every dray-horse neighed,
Dreading the Black Horse cavalry.

Now parts the trace, by jack-knife riven;
Now rush the steeds, by panic driven;
And all the road, by half-past seven,
Showed dustily and gravelly.

But thicker yet the dust shall fly,
As rank and file go scrambling by,

And louder yet shall Russell cry,

"We're gone! we're gone! it's all o-ver!"

'Tis morn, but scarce yon southern sun
Hath tipped the spires of Washington,
When in they tumble, one by one,
Russell ahead of Doll-i-ver.

The panic deepens. Save! who can.
When life's at stake a man's a man;
Most gallant he who leads the van.
Lo! Russell leads the whole of 'em!

Ah! few, to-day, in camp shall meet;
The sidewalks shall be tent and sheet.
In every alley, lane, and street,
They slumber, every soul of 'em.

THE RUN FROM MANASSAS JUNCTION.

YANKEE DOODLE went to war,

On his little pony;

What did he go fighting for,
Everlasting goney!

Yankee Doodle was a chap

Who bragged and swore tarnation, He stuck a feather in his cap,

And called it Federation.

Yankee Doodle, etc.

Yankee Doodle, he went forth
To conquer the seceders,
All the journals of the North,
In most ferocious leaders,
Breathing slaughter, fire, and smoke,
Especially the latter,

His rage and fury to provoke,

And vanity to flatter.

Yankee Doodle, etc.

Yankee Doodle, having floored
His separated brothers,

He reckoned his victorious sword

Would turn against us others, Secession first he would put down,

Wholly and for ever;

And afterward, from Britain's crown, He Canada would sever.

Yankee Doodle, etc.