of visiting, and others helped in any way they could Even the collection plate lost its gloomy look, it looked brighter; and as for the pastor, he plucked up heart and went ahead, for all the world knows that the leading horse must put on speed when the horses behind are pulling with a will. As for the parrot it lived to a green old age, and, like the youth in "Excelsior," repeated its motto to the end. With a convulsive croak, and a merry twinkle of the eye, it left it as a legacy to the world :— "Work, you lubbers, work. Work, you lubbers, work." PROCRASTINATION. In the dim conservatory, In the lamplight's softened glory, But my secret I'd not let her For she might think me unruly Though her heart desiring truly Had she quite enjoyed the dancing, Then I spoke about the weather; Cold or warm, or calm or breeze, or Did she think love out of fashion? My address. Then a point I sought to carry; Then her eyelids drooped a moment; Had she ever meditated O'er her friends already mated, "Darling," said I, "I adore you? Then a sound made me look up, or SHERMAN'S MARCH.*-FRED EMERSON BROOKS. The following poem was recited by the author at the grand camp-fire of the G. A. R., in Mechanic's Hall, Boston, on Wednesday evening, August 13. 1890, to an audience of fifteen thousand people, amid the wildest enthusiasm. The speaker approached General Sherman, who had the seat of honor on the stage and feeling along the lapel of his coat until he found the copper button, addressed him as follows: Excuse a blind old soldier if too eager in his quest To feel the copper button on the lapel of your breast. But you'll tell him this for me, That I marched down with Sherman From Atlanta to the sea. 'Twas the march of all the ages,-Shenandoah to the sea, Then back again to Richmond, one long march of victory! *Used by special permission. Three thousand miles of marching, with a hundred thousand men, And a thousand banners flying-there was plenty fighting then; For 'tis something more than marching, with the elements at play And the swarthy storm-king flinging his battalions in the way. It is something more than marching where every step you go You are forced to fight with nature and a still more stubborn foe. I could tell you all about it If you'd listen unto me, For I marched down with Sherman From Atlanta to the sea. I could tell you all about it, and the reason why 'twas done, For ofttimes the greatest battle is with smallest carnage won! Those great chieftains -Grant and Sherman, peerless military twain Planned to settle the rebellion in a double-fold campaign; While Grant held Lee at Richmond, Sherman, marching through the South, Cut off hope and all resources save what's in the cannon's mouth. When your enemy is helpless it is just the same, you know, As when you've thrust a rapier though the vitals of a foe. Yes, I'm a blind old veteran, But proud as I can be That I marched down with Sherman From Atlanta to the sea. Lee well knew those marching thousands meart his final overthrow, And to yield far greater courage than cause useless blood to flow. Had those concentrated armies-veteran blue and veteran gray Sought to settle the rebellion in one final, fatal fray, And the sunset of rebellion would have made the earth more red With the blood of many thousands than the sunset overhead. When I am dead, my comrade, "Tis enough to say of me: That I marched down with Sherman Some gained their fame at Gettysburg, when fame was nearly lost. At Fredericksburg, Antietam, too, 'twas learned what fame may cost. One climbed to fame on Lookout, fighting far above the clouds. At New Orleans one sailed to fame, lashed to the flagship shrouds. One rode to fame at Winchester! At Appomattox town, And howe'er so many battles owe success to Sherman's name Then you must have marched with me Let's give three cheers for Sherman: Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! Why are you silent, comrade? Is there something in your craw? What! profess to be a comrade, and yet refuse to cheer Why, you're more deserving pity, sir, and pension, too, I swan, Than these poor shattered veterans with arms and legs all gone! If you wont cheer Uncle Billy— Well, you can't shake hands with me; Why, there's not another being in this nation, I dare say, all!" What? You are General Sherman? From Atlanta to the sea. 1 CHRIST CALMING THE TEMPEST.-HORACE B. DURANT. [By permission of the Author.] 'Twas morning over Galilee. In safe Repose its placid waters lay, as though They dreamed of vine-clad hills, that sweetly smiled, Calm as The measured pulse of happy sleeper, rose And fell its slumbering bosom, fanned by breath Such was the scene And hidden import,-one which was, methinks, Them onward; yet the evening found them still But, lo! a sudden change Uprising in the lurid skies, spread wide Their black wings o'er the ghastly billows, and The tempest comes! |