And he looked at his stick, revolvin' slow
Vether 'twere safe to shy it or no-

And he grumbled on in an injured tone: “All that I axed vos, let me alone.”

THE PILOT THAT WEATHERED THE STORM.

BY RICHARD GAGGIN.

TARK! Hark! from the ocean of life comes a

HA

cry

Of danger; see treason's clouds darken the sky-
A ship, fully laden with all that is dear

To the heart of a freeman, is now in despair-
Careens in the tempest-oh! is there not near
Some Pilot to weather the storm.

She bears in her bosom a charter of peace-
'Tis sealed by the blood of the best of our race;
She's liberty's Ark, and she proudly contains
All of hope that to nations benighted remains—
Alas! must she perish before she obtains

A Pilot to weather the storm?

Her captain a traitor-and pirates her crew;
He, faithless to duty-with plunder they flew ;

She's nearing the breakers, where billows o'er

whelm

Lo! there's to the rescue tried friends of the realmOh! joy to all nations, Abe comes to the helm, The Pilot to weather the storm.

The tempest still rages-the furies increase— Night deepens in darkness - his spirit breathes peace;

Undaunted he stands at the wheel, and shall guide The vessel triumphant through dangers untried; While friends of humanity shout him, with pride, "The Pilot that weathered the storm."

Erie, Pa.

SECESSION LITERATURE.

"I received my first military commission in South-Carolina."

Letter of Mr. Richard Lathers.

"Mr. Lathers is an Irishman."

Correspondent of the Evening Post.

MOURN, swampy groves of New-Rochelle,

And Pine Street, tell thy sad condition;

See Richard's gallant bosom swell

When thinking of his first commission.

His native Irish hills ignored,

How quick the ties of birth-place vary, And. Carolina claims the sword

That Lathers drew in Tipperary.

Rise up, O pig-skin parchment! rise
Before my hazy mental vision,
And dazzle all our Northern eyes

With doughty Richard's first commission.
Say, was't in Dublin fire brigade,
Or in the green constabulary,

That first great Lathers flashed his blade, And boldly fought for Tipperary?

Choice specimen of Irish brick,

Blood-red with paint of Carolina,

Come forth and save the Union, Dick,
Now splitting up like broken china.
In taming rabid Northern crews,
Be thou our smart Hibernian Rarey;
Employ the sedatives they use

In Charleston and in Tipperary.

When floats on high the traitor flag,
And frothy Keitt proclaims the muster,
Your weapon from its scabbard drag,

And haste to swell the general bluster.

When comes the long predicted fray,
Renew the deeds of Harper's Ferry,
Where heroes talked and ran away,
The way they do in Tipperary.

"Tis sweet to think that when the strength
Of ancient Rome was sadly crackling,
Her threatened liberties at length
Were rescued by a goose's cackling ;
So, when oppressed by cruel fate,

Our strongest hearts at last "feel scary,"
A modern "Greek" may save the State,
And gild the name of Tipperary.

-Punch.

DECEMBER TWENTY-SIXTH, 1910.

A BALLAD OF MAJOR ANDERSON.

BY MRS. J. C. R. DORR.

COME, children, leave your playing, this dark and stormy night,

Shut fast the rattling window-blinds, and make the fire burn bright ;

And hear an old man's story, while loud the fierce winds blow,

Of gallant Major Anderson and fifty years ago.

I was a young man then, boys, but twenty-eight years old,

And all my comrades knew me for a soldier brave and bold;

My eye was bright, my step was firm, I measured six feet two,

And I knew not what it was to shirk when there was work to do.

We were stationed at Fort Moultrie, in Charleston harbor, then,

A brave band, though a small one, of scarcely sixty men;

And day and night we waited for the coming of the foe,

With noble Major Anderson, just fifty years

ago.

Were they French or English, ask you? Oh! ' neither, neither, child!

We were at peace with other lands, and all the nations smiled