Bold McClellan heard the story: "Onward, men, to fields of glory; Let us show the rebel foemen,

When we're READY we're not slow, men ;
Wait no more for springing grasses—

Onward! onward! to Manassas !"

Baggage trains were left behind him,
In his eagerness to find them;
Upward the balloons ascended,
To see which way the rebels trended;
Thirty miles away his glasses
Swept the horizon round Manassas.

Out of sight, the foe, retreating,
Answered back no hostile greeting;
None could tell, as off he paddled,
Whitherward he had skedaddled.
Then the chief of all the asses
Cried: "Hurrah! I've got Manassas.”

Future days will tell the wonder,
How the mighty Anaconda
Lay supine along the border,

With the mighty Mac to lord her;
Tell on shaft and storied brasses
How he took the famed Manassas.

Lyons, Iowa, March, 1862.

THE

"MUDSILLS" READ.

BY WILLIAM ROSS WALLACE.*

I.

WHY burns so bright in Northern souls

This glorious passion for the laws?

Why flash these fierce fires from their eyes
Around the Constitution's cause?

Why did they leap like tempests forth

When, struck by foes, they saw their need? Hark! from the School the answer rolls :

*To the Editor of the N. Y. Tribune:

SIR: It is interesting as a matter of news, and as an evidence of the intelligence of our troops, to know that wherever our armies go, there also goes a demand for reading matter. The Stars and Stripes were no sooner raised at Port Royal, than we received orders for papers, magazines, etc. The mails that brought the accounts of our taking Nashville also brought orders from that city. The same is true of Key West, and to-day we have orders from Ship Island. Verily, the Northern "Mudsills" are queer chaps. They will read. Yours, etc.,

New-York, April 8, 1862.

Ross & TouSEY.

II.

What iron strength on every lip,

When Freedom smote, imploring calls! How, shouting, "Union, Virtue, God!”

Their sacred swords pierced treason's walls! Why do they love their temples thus ?

Why leave their dear, sweet homes to bleed? Hark! from the Press this proud reply:

When, beaten down, the rebel foe
Look on them with imploring eye,
How quick they quench the battle-flame,
And mingle with each shout a sigh!
Why do no hatreds fire their hearts?
Why rainbows banish war's wild creed?

Hark! blest Religion softly breathes :

O Flag of Stars! wave down the storm!
O Eagle! thunder through the gloom!
O wreath of Valor, Union, Law!

Still glow on Vernon's templed tomb!

The Constitution's mountain stands;
Not vain old Seventy-Six's seed;

The sacred nation shall not die

"THE MUDSILLS' READ! THE MUDSILLS' READ!"

V.

Ye peoples, fear not that your hope
Must sink in despotism's wave;
The lightnings from God's awful eyes
Still melt the fetters of the slave;
Soon through his universe resounds,
"The battle's won-the earth is freed;"
Hell moans away, the heavens roll up-
"THE MUDSILLS' READ! THE MUDSILLS'
READ!"

"SHODD Y."

LD Shoddy sits in his easy-chair,

And cracks his jokes and drinks his ale, Dumb to the shivering soldier's prayer, Deaf to the widows' and orphans' wail. His coat is as warm as the fleece unshorn; Of the "golden fleece " he is dreaming still;

And the music that lulls him night and morn Is the hum-hum-hum of the shoddy-mill.

Clashing cylinders, whizzing wheels,

Rend and ravel and tear and pick;

What can resist these hooks of steel,
Sharp as the claws of the ancient Nick?
Cast-off mantle of millionaire,

Pestilent vagrant's vesture chill,
Rags of miser or beggar bare,

All are "grist" for the shoddy-mill.

Worthless waste and worn-out wool,
Flung together a spacious sham!
With just enough of the "fleece " to pull
Over the eyes of poor Uncle Sam.
Cunningly twisted through web and woof,
Not" shirt of Nessus" such power to kill;
Look, how the prints of his hideous hoof
Track the fiend of the shoddy-mill.

A soldier lies on the frozen ground,
While crack his joints with aches and ails;
A "shoddy" blanket wraps him round,
His "shoddy" garments the wind assails.
His coat is "shoddy," well "stuffed" with "flocks;"
He dreams of the flocks on his native hill;