“BAY BILLY.”—­(Extracts.)

    At last from out the centre fight
      Spurred up a general’s aid. 
    “That battery must silenced be!”
      He cried, as past he sped. 
    Our colonel simply touched his cap,
      And then, with measured tread,

    To lead the crouching line once more
      The grand old fellow came. 
    No wounded man but raised his head
      And strove to gasp his name,
    And those who could not speak nor stir,
      “God blessed him” just the same.

    This time we were not half-way up,
      When, midst the storm of shell,
    Our leader, with his sword upraised,
      Beneath our bayonets fell. 
    And, as we bore him back, the foe
      Set up a joyous yell.

    Just then before the laggard line
      The colonel’s horse we spied,
    Bay Billy with his trappings on,
      His nostrils swelling wide,
    As though still on his gallant back
      The master sat astride.

    Right royally he took the place
      That was of old his wont,
    And with a neigh that seemed to say,
      Above the battle’s brunt,
    “How can the Twenty-second charge
      If I am not in front?”

    No bugle-call could rouse us all
      As that brave sight had done. 
    Down all the battered line we felt
      A lightning impulse run. 
    Up! up! the hill we followed Bill,
      And we captured every gun!

    And then the dusk and dew of night
      Fell softly o’er the plain,
    As though o’er man’s dread work of death
      The angels wept again,
    And drew night’s curtain gently round
      A thousand beds of pain.

    At last the morning broke.  The lark
      Sang in the merry skies
    As if to e’en the sleepers there
      It bade awake, and rise! 
    Though naught but that last trump of all
      Could ope their heavy eyes.

    And as in faltering tone and slow,
      The last few names were said,
    Across the field some missing horse
      Toiled up with weary tread,
    It caught the sergeant’s eye, and quick
      Bay Billy’s name he read.

    Not all the shoulder-straps on earth
      Could still our mighty cheer;
    And ever from that famous day,
      When rang the roll-call clear,
    Bay Billy’s name was read, and then
      The whole line answered, “Here!”

FRANK H. GASSAWAY.

* * * * *

    We cannot kindle when we will,
    The fire that in the heart resides;
    But tasks in hours of insight willed,
    Can be through hours of gloom fulfilled.

M. ARNOLD.

* * * * *

THE RIDE OF COLLINS GRAVES.—­(Extracts.)

AN INCIDENT OF THE FLOOD IN MASSACHUSETTS, MAY 16, 1874.