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very wrong, and I am very sorry. Take me home, and I will be a sister to you.”
"Not a wife?” said I.
Over went the fourth bag, and I began to think she would beat me after all, for I did not like the idea of going much higher. I would not give in just yet, however. I whistled for a few moments, to give her time for reflection, and then said: “Fanny, they say that marriages are made in heaven if
you do not take care, ours will be solemnized there."
I took up the fifth bag. “ Come,” I said, “my wife in life, or my.companion in death. Which is it to be?" and I patted the sand-bag in a cheerful manner. She held her face in her hands, but did not answer. I nursed the bag in my arms as if it had been a baby.
“Come, Fanny, give me your promise," I could hear her sobs. I'm the softest-hearted creature breathing, and would not pain any living thing, and I confess she had beaten me. I forgave her the ducking ; I forgave her for rejecting
I was on the point of flinging the bag back into the car, and saying, “ Dearest Fanny, forgive me for frightening you. Marry whomsoever you wish. Give your lovely hand to the lowest groom in your stables --endow with your priceless
— beauty the chief of the Panki-wanki Indians. Whatever happens, Jenkins is your slave —your dog — your footstool. His duty henceforth, is to go whithersoever you shall order, to do whatsoever you
shall command.” I was just on the point of saying this, I repeat, when Fanny suddenly looked up, and said, with a queerish expression upon her face :
* You need not throw that last bag over. I promise to give you my hand.”
"With all your heart?," I asked, quickly.
I'tossed the bag into the bottom of the car, and opened the valve. The balloon descended. Gentlemen, will you believe it?— when we reached the ground and the balloon had been given over to its recovered master, when I had helped Fanny tenderly to the earth, and turned towards her to receive anew the promise of her affection and her hand — will you believe it ? — she gave me a box on the ear that upset me against the car, and running to her father, who at that moment came up, she related to him and the assembled company what she called my disgraceful conduct in the balloon, and ended by informing me that all of her hand that I was likely to get had been already bestowed upon my ear, which she assured me had been given with all her heart.
“ You villain!” said Sir George, advancing towards me with a horsewhip in his hand. "You villain ! I've a good mind to break this over your back!”
“Sir George,” said I, “ villain and Jenkins must never be coupled in the same sentence; and as for the breaking of this whip, I'll relieve you of the trouble," and, snatching it from his hand, I broke it in two, and threw the pieces on the ground. “ And now I shall have the honor of wishing you good morning. Miss Flasher, I forgive you.” And I retired.
Now I ask you whether any specimen of female treachery equal to that has ever come within your experience, and whether any excuse can be made for such conduct ?
The rich man's son inherits lands,
And piles of brick and stone and gold;
And tender flesh that fears the cold,
Nor dares to wear a garment old;
The rich man's son inherits cares :
The bank may break, the factory burn;
And soft, white hands would hardly earn
A living that would suit his turn;
The rich man's son inherits wants :
His stomach craves for dainty fare;
Of toiling hinds with brown arms bare,
A heritage, it seems to me,
What does the poor man's son inherit?
Stout muscles and a sinewy heart; A hardy frame, a hardier spirit;
King of two hands, he does his part
In every useful toil and art;
What does the poor man's son inherit ?
Wishes o'erjoyed with humble things; A rank adjudged by toil-won merit;
Content that from employment springs;
A heart that in his labor sings;
What does the poor man's son inherit?
A patience learned by being poor ; Courage, if sorrow comes, to bear it;
A fellow feeling that is sure
To make the outcast bless his door;
O rich man's son! there is a toil
That with all other level stands; Large charity doth never soil,
But only whitens, soft, white hands;
That is the best crop from the lands;
O poor man's son! scorn not thy state;
There is worse weariness than thine, In merely being rich and great ;
Work only makes the soul to shine,
And makes rest fragrant and benign;
Both, heirs to some six feet of sod,
Are equal in the earth at last ;
Prove title to your heirship vast,
By record of a well-filled past;
· JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
THE PRIDE OF BATTERY B.
South Mountain towered upon our right, far off the river lay, And over on the wooded height we held their lines at bay.
At last the muttering guns were still; the day died slow and
At last the gunners' pipes did fill, the sergeant's yarns began.
When, as the wind a moment blew aside the flagrant flood Our brierwoods raised, within our view a little maiden stood.
A tiny tot of six or seven, from fireside fresh she seemed (Of such a little one in heaven one soldier often dreamed).
And as we stared, her little hand went to her curly head
“And where's your home ?” he growled again. She lisped
out, “Who is me ? Why, don't you know? I'm little Jane, the Pride of Bat
“My home? Why, that was burned away, and pa and ma
are dead, And so I ride the guns all day along with Sergeant Ned.
“ And I've a drum that's not a toy, a cap with feathers, too, And I march beside the drummer boy on Sundays at review.
“But now our 'bacca's all give out, the men can't have their
smoke, And so they're cross-why, even Ned won't play with me and
“And the big colonel said, to-day—I hate to hear him swearHe'd give a leg for a good pipe like the Yank had over there;
“And so 'I thought when beat the drum, and the big guns
were still, I'd creep
beneath the tent and come out here across the hill
“And beg, good Mister Yankee men, you'd give me some
Lone Jack,Please do—when we get some again I'll surely bring it back.
“Indeed, I will, for Ned-says he—if I do what I say, I'll be a general yet, maybe, and ride a prancing bay.'
We brimmed her tiny apron o'er: you should have heard her
laugh As each man from his scanty store shook out a generous half.
To kiss the little mouth stooped down a score of grimy men, Until the sergeant's husky voice said “'Tention, squad !”—
We gave her escort, till good-night the pretty waif we bid, And watched her toddle out of sight-or else 'twas tears that
Her tiny form—nor turned about a man, nor spoke a word Till after awhile a far, hoarse shout upon the wind we heard !
We sent it back, and cast sad eyes upon the scene around :
That's all-save when the dawn awoke again the work of hell, And through the sullen clouds of smoke the screaming missiles