around, such hope for the captive and such glorious tidings. The stars upon it were to the pining nations like the morning stars of God, and the stripes upon it were beams of morning light. As at early dawn the stars stand first, and then it grows light, and then, as the sun advances, that light breaks into banks and streaming lines of color, the glowing red and intense white striving together and ribbing the horizon with bars effulgent, so on the American flag, stars and beams of many-colored lights shine out together. And wherever the flag comes, and men behold it, they see in its sacred emblazonry, no rampant lion and fierce eagle, but only light, and every fold indicative of liberty. The history of this banner is all on one side. Under it rode Washington and his armies; before it Burgoyne laid down his arms. It waved in the highlands at West Point; it floated over old Fort Montgomery. When Arnold would have surrendered these valuable fortresses and precious legacies, his night was turned into day, and his treachery was driven away by the beams of light from this starry banner. It cheered our army, driven from New York, in their solitary pilgrimage through New Jersey. It streamed in light over Morristown and Valley Forge. It crossed the waters rolling with ice at Trenton; and when its stars gleamed in the cold morning with victory, a new day of hope dawned on the despairing nation; and when, at length, the long years of war were drawing to a close, underneath the folds of this immortal banner sat Washington while Yorktown surrendered its hosts, and our Revolutionary struggles ended with victory. Let us then twine each thread of the glorious tissue of our country's flag about our heartstrings; and looking upon our homes and catching the spirit that breathes upon us from the battle-fields of our fathers, let us resolve, come weal or woe, we will, in life and in death, now and forever, stand by the stars and stripes. They have been unfurled from the snows of Canada to the plains of New Orleans; in the halls of the Montezumas and amid the solitude of every sea; and every-where, as the luminous symbol of resistless and beneficent power, they have led the brave to victory and to glory. They have floated our cradles; let it be our prayer and our struggle that they shall float over our graves. over HENRY WARD BEECHER. Biography.-Rev. Henry Ward Beecher was born at Litchfield, Connecticut, in 1813. After graduating at Amherst College, Mr. Beecher devoted himself to the study of theology, and soon became successful in his profession. Since 1847, he has been pastor of Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, New York. Mr. Beecher's style as a writer is clear and forcible; and in preaching or lecturing, he exhibits, in addition to those qualities, wonderful grace of manner and fluency of expression. His principal works are his sermons; but he has also written one volume of "A Life of Christ," and "Norwood," a novel. He was, for many years, editor of the "Christian Union." Notes.- St. Andrew was the patron saint of Scotland; St. George, the patron saint of England. The oblique cross of St. Andrew and the vertical cross of St. George are united on the British flag. Tricolor means three-colored. The national banner of France is three-colored-blue, white, and red. The halls of the Montezumas means in Mexico, since the Montezumas were formerly the sovereigns of that country. 37. THE BISON TRACK. prīme, charge with powder. tĕth ́ered, tied. carcass, dead body of an ani leagues, distances equal to three stam pēdē”, sudden fight from miles. re şist'less, not to be opposed fright brin'ded, having many colors. Strike the tent! The sun has risel; Not a vapor streaks the dawn, Sharpen well the hunting spear; Fiercely stamp the tethered horses, As they neigh with keen desire. For the prairie's distant thunder See! a dusky line approaches; Hark the onward surging roar, On a sounding wall of shore! And their stubborn horns are clashing Now the storm is down upon us; Let the maddened horses go! We shall ride the living whirlwind, Though a hundred leagues it blow! Though the cloudy manes should thicken And the red eyes' angry glare Lighten round us as we gallop Through the sand and rushing air! Myriad hoofs will scar the prairie, Death to him whose speed should slacken Now the trampling herds are threaded, For the giant bull that gallops Look not on him as he staggers, "Tis the last shot he will need ! More shall fall among his fellows, Ere we run the mad stampede,Ere we stem the brinded breakers, While the wolves, a hungry pack, Howl around each grim-eyed carcass On the bloody bison track. BAYARD TAYLOR. Biography. - Bayard Taylor was born in Pennsylvania in 1825, and died in Berlin in 1878. At the age of seventeen, while at work as an apprentice in a printing office, he began to write poetry for periodicals. In 1844, he published a volume of poems under the title "Ximena;" and in 1846 he began a tour of Europe on foot. Taylor soon became well known both as a writer and a traveler. During twenty years of his life, he may be said to have composed his poems and written his newspaper articles as he was journeying from place to place. At the time of his death, he was United States Minister to Berlin. Among the best known of Taylor's works are: "Views Afoot, or Europe Seen with a Knapsack and Staff," "Eldorado,' "Northern Travel," "Rhymes of Travel," "Story of Kennett,' Hannah Thurston," and "A Translation of Goethe's Faust." 66 Notes.-Strike the tent means to take the tent down and make it ready for traveling. In the latter part of the fifth stanza, reference is made to the necessity of keeping along with a herd of buffaloes when the hunters have ridden into it, for should they stop, they would be trampled to death. Various portions of our country have, at different times, suffered severely from the influence of violent storms of wind, some of which have been known to traverse nearly the whole of the United States, and to leave such deep impressions in their wake as will not easily be forgotten. Having witnessed one of these awful scenes in |