I couldn't get the hang 'o them, but I'll keep my powder dry!"

"God bless you, comrade!" said the Chief,-" God bless your loyal heart!

But younger men are in the field, and claim to have a part:

They'll plant our sacred banner firm, in each re bellious town,

And woe, henceforth, to any hand that dares to pull it down!"

46

"But, General!"-still persisting, the weeping vet, eran cried,

"I'm young enough to follow, so long as you're my guide;

And some you know, must bite the dust, and that, at least, can I;

So give the young ones place to fight, but me a place to die!

"If they should fire on Pickens, let the colonel in command

Put me upon the rampart with the flag-staff in my hand:

No odds how hot the cannon-smoke, or how the shell may fly,

I'll hold the Stars and Stripes aloft, and hold them till I die!

"I'm ready, General, so you let a post to me be given,

Where Washington can look at me, as he looks down from heaven,

And say to Putnam at his side, or, may be, Gen[Lundy's Lane!' 'There stands old Billy Johnson, who fought at

eral Wayne,

"And when the fight is raging hot, before the
traitors fly,

When shell and ball are screeching, and bursting
in the sky,

If any shot should pierce through me, and lay me
on my face,

My soul would go to Washington's, and not to
Arnold's place!"

DISCONTENT.

Down in the fields one day in June,
The flowers all bloomed together,
Save one who thought to hide herself-
And drooped, that pleasant weather.

A robin, who had soared too high,
And felt a little lazy,
Was resting near a buttercup,
Who wished she was a daisy.

The buttercups must always be
The same all-tiresome color,

While daisies dress in gold and white,
Altho' their gold is duller!

"Dear Robin," said, this sad young flower,

Perhaps you won't mind trying

To find a nice white frill for me

Some day when you are flying."

-1

"You silly thing," the robin said, "I think you must be crazy; I'd rather be my honest self, Than any made-up daisy.

"You're nicer in your own bright gown;
The little children love you;

Be the best buttercup you can,
And think no flower above you.

"Tho' swallows leave us out of sight,
We'd better keep our places;
Perhaps the world would go all wrong
With one too many daisies!"

GOOD-NIGHT AND GOOD-MORNING.

LORD HOUGHTON.

A fair little girl sat under a tree,

Sewing, as long as her eyes could see;

Then she smoothed her work and folded it right,
And said, "Dear work, good-night, good-night!

Such a number of rooks flew over her head,
Crying, "Caw! caw!" on their way to bed;
She said, as she watched their curious flight,
"Little black things, good-night, good-night!"

The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed,
The sheep's bleat! bleat! came over the road,
All seeming to say, with a quiet delight,
Good little girl, good-night, good-night!"

She did not say to the sun, "Good-night!"
Though she saw him there like a ball of light
For she knew he had God's time to keep
All over the world, and never could sleep.