order. For a single instant matters seemed to stand still and we to be poised between defeat and victory. Then, even as the captain's hand was on our gunwale, I bent and caught Phroso up in the arms that she sprang to meet, and I fairly flung her across the narrow strait of water that parted us from the English boat. Six strong and eager arms received her, and a cheer rang out from the English ship; for they saw now that it had been a race-and a race for a lady. And I, seeing her safe, turned to the captain, and said:

"Fetch her back from there, if you can, and be damned to you."

THO

BY WASHINGTON IRVING. [Apropos of Dewey Day.]

HOU hast heard, O Abdallah, of the great magician, Muley Fuz. who could change a blooming land blessed with all the elysian charms of hill and dale, of glade and grove, of fruit and flower, into a desert, frightful, solitary and forlorn; who, with the wave of his wand, could transform even the disciples of Mahomet into grinning apes and chattering monkeys. Surely, I thought to myself this morning, the dreadful Muley has been exercising his infernal enchantments on these unhappy infidels. Listen, O Abdullah, and wonder! Last night I committed myself to tranquil slumber encompassed with all the monot. onous tokens of peace, and this morning I awoke enveloped in the noise, the bustle, the clangor and the shouts of war. Everything was changed as if by magic. An immense army had sprung up, like mushrooms, in a night. All the men of the city had mounted the nodding plume; had become in the twinkling of an eye, helmeted heroes, and war-worn veterans.

formed me that it was done merely for want of room. This great body of men I perceived was under the command of a small bashaw, in yellow and gold, with white nodding plumes, and most formidable whiskers. He had two attendants called aid-de-camps, who were similar to a bashaw with two tails. The bashaw, though commander-in-chief, seemed to have little more to do than myself.

Alarmed at the beating of drums, the braying of trumpets, and the shouting of the multitude, I dressed myself in haste, sallied forth, and followed a prodigious crowd of people to a place called the Battery.

On arriving there I found an immense army drawn up in a true Mussulman cres. cent. At first I supposed this was in compliment to myself, but my interpreter in

I waited an hour or two with exemplary patience, expecting to see some grand military evolutions or a sham battle exhibited; but no such thing took place. The men stood stock still, supporting their arms, groaning under the fatigues of war, and now and then sending out a foraging party to levy contributions of beer and a favorite beverage which they denominated grog.

In about two hours the army was put in motion, and marched through some narrow streets to a magnificent castle of painted brick, decorated with grand pillars of pine boards. By the ardor which brightened in each countenance, I soon perceived that this castle was to undergo a vigorous attack. As the ordnance of the castle was perfectly silent, and as they had nothing but a straight street to advance through, they made their approaches with great courage and admirable regularity, until, within about a hundred feet of the castle. a pump opposed a formidable obstacle in their way, and put the whole army to a nonplus. The circumstance was sudden and unlooked for; the commanding officer ran over all the military tactics with which his head was crammed, but none offered any expedient for the present awful emergency. The pump maintained its post, and so did the commander. The commanding officer ordered his men to wheel and take it in flank; the army accordingly wheeled and came full butt against it in the rear, exactly as they were before:-" Wheel to the left!" cried the officer; they did so, and again as before the inveterate pump intercepted their progress. "Right about face?" cried the officer; the men obeyed, but still the pump had to be passed. Upon this the bashaw with two tails, with great coolness, undauntedly ordered his men to push right forward, pellmell, pump or no pump. They gallantly obeyed. After unheard of acts of bravery the pump was carried, without the loss of a man, and the army firmly entrenched itself under the very walls of the castle. The bashaw then held a council of war with his officers; the most vigorous measures were resolved on. An advanced guard of musicians was ordered to attack the castle without mercy. Then the whole band opened a most tremendous battery of drums,

fifes, tambourines, and trumpets, and kept up a thundering assault, as if the castle, like the walls of Jericho, would tumble down at the blowing of rams' horns. After some time a parly ensued. The grand bashaw of the city appeared on the battlements of the castle, and, as far as I could understand from the circumstances, dared the little bashaw to single combat-this thou knowest was in the style of ancient chivalry. The little bashaw dismounted with great intrepidity, and ascended the battlements of the castle. The grand bashaw came to meet him, attended by numerous dignitaries and worthies of his court, one of whom bore the splendid banners of the castle. The battle was carried on entirely by words, according to the universal custom of this country. The grand bashaw made a furious attack in a speech of considerable length; the little bashaw, by no means appalled, retorted with great spirit. The grand bashaw attempted to rip him up with an argument, or stun him with a solid fact; but the little bashaw parried them both with admirable adroitness, and run him clean through and through with a syllogism, The grand bashaw was overthrown, the banners of the castle yielded up to the little bashaw, and the castle surrendered after a vigorous defence of three hours, during which the besiegers suffered great extremity from muddy streets and a drizzling atmosphere.

These soldiers, my friend, have no pecuniary pay; and their only recompense for the immense services which they render their country, in their voluntary parades, is the plunder of smiles which they extort from the ladies. As they have no opportunity, like the vagrant Arabs, of making inroads on their neighbors, and as it is necessary to keep up their military spirit, the town is, therefore, now and then, but particularly on two days of the year, given up to their ravages. The arrangements are contrived with admirable address, so that every officer, from the bashaw down to the drum-major the chief of the eunuch, or musicians, shall have his share of that invaluable booty, the admiration of the fair. The officers, however, receive most of the glory and reward. The narrative of a parade day will exemplify this more clearly.

The chief bashaw, in the plenitude of his authority, orders a grand review of the whole army at two o'clock. The little bashaw, that he may have an opportunity of vaporing about as greatest man on the field, orders the army to assemble at twelve. The kiay, or colonel, as he is called, that is the commander of one hundred and twenty men, orders his regiment or tribe to collect

one mile at least from the place of parade at eleven. Each captain, or fag-rag, as we term them, commands his squad to meet at ten at least a half a mile from the regimental parade; and to close all, the chief of the eunuchs orders his infernal concert of

fifes, trumpets, cymbals, and kettle-drums to assemble at ten! From that moment the city receives no quarter. All is noise, hooting, hubbub and combustion. Every window, door, crack and loophole from the garret to the cellar, is crowded with the fascinating fair of all ages and of all complexions. First struts the chief eunuch, or drum-major, at the head of his sable band, magnificently arrayed in tarnished scarlet. Alexander himself could not have spurned the earth more superbly. A host of ragged boys shout in his train, and inflate the bosom of the warrior with tenfold self-complacency. Next comes the Fag-Rag, or captain, at the head of his company. He sets his whole regiment in motion; and mounted on a mettlesome charger, frisks and fidgets, and capers and plunges in front, to the great entertainment of the multitude, and the great hazard of himself and his neighbors. I should also, perhaps, mention a squadron of hardy veterans, most of whom have seen a deal of service during the nineteen or twenty years of their experience, and who, most gorgeously equipped in tight green jackets and breeches, trot and amble, and gallop and scamper like little devils through every street and nook and corner and poke-hole of the city, to the great dread of all old people and sage matrons with young children. It is truly sublime!

The army being all happily collected on the battery the drums beat, the fifes whistle, the standards wave proudly in the air. The signal is given! Thunder roars the cannon! Open fly the battery gates, forth sallies the legions, potent as the pismires of the desert! the customary salutations of the country commence-the air is darkened with old hats, apples and sandwiches, they fly in showers like the arrows of the Parthians. The soldiers, no ways disheartened, like the intrepid followers of Leonidas, march along gallantly. On they push, down one lane, up another; the martial music resounds through every street; the fair ones throng to their windows,-"Carry arms!" cries the bashaw-tan ta ra-ra," brays the trumpet -rub-a-dub,' roars the drum-"hurraw" shout the ragamuffins The bashaw smiles with exultation-every fag-rag feels himself a hero-"none but the brave deserves the fair!" Head of the immortal Amrou, on what a gigantic scale is everything done in this country!

J

VI.

THANKSGIVING AT THE

FARM.

Arranged for Recitation.

OSIAH STARN had just finished a large and pleasing breakfast of buckwheat cakes and Jersey sausage, and was now drawing long whiffs from his corncob pipe.

While he smoked, Catharine Anne, his wife cleared away the breakfast things in rapid but absent-minded fashion. When the last crumbs had been swept up she broke her long silence. Coming to service this mornin' ain't you, Josiah?" she asked.

"I reckon no, Catharine Anne-not tuday; no-not tu-day."

"And why not, Josiah?"

"Well, Catharine Anne, its just this. I've got a feelin' as I'd like to spend the mornin' alone with Natur'. I'll do a thanksgiving out in the woods thinkin' in my own quar way, figurin' up all the Lord hez done for the farm and me durin' the past year. You and the children go to meetin'; I'll just meander about and turn up at dinner time."

A look of disappointment made Catharine Anne's, As you please, Josiah" a triumph of wifely tact.

An hour later Josiah watched his wife and seven children tramp churchward and, five minutes after that, he was hurrying down to the shore of Coon Lake. Four old friends were waiting for him,-Jake Holmes, Isaac Scattergood, Matthew Simpson and Paul Jenkins. The men got into a large flatbottomed scow and pulled out to the centre of the lake.

"Rig the table," said Josiah Starn. "Don't you boys feel the awful wetness of this water?" suggested Paul Jenkins.

"Well spoke, Paul. Well spoke. Draw that cork, Matthew. We'll start the day right, anyhow."

Five cheerful gurgles, five reluctant sweeps of rough hand over moist lips and then the five old farmers settled down to "communing with Nature," that is-a stiff game of draw poker.

Indian summer had taken all the chill out of the clear November air and far above in a cloudless sky the sun shone kindly down. The party on Coon Lake was a jolly one. Smiles danced across wrinkled faces; laughter deep and husky came free and often; occasionally a hat was tossed high in the air as some bit of good luck kindled enthusiasm.

But all happy times have an end and two o'clock drew painfully near. Josiah Starn

had been playing from the start in bad luck. "Last pot," cried some one. Josiah held up a four, five and seven of diamonds drawing two cards. Scattergood modestly confessed he already held three aces; he'd take two cards; kings preferred. Holmes allowed he wouldn't buck agin Providence by drawing four cards to an ace. He would draw out of the game. Paul Jenkins said—and he spoke with deep feeling-that on any other day but Thanksgiving he'd just lay down his cards and swear, but "being as it was Thanksgiving he'd buy one card." Matthew Simpson "called the boys to witness that he'd always stood pat on the last hand in the last Jack pot on Thanksgiving day. He'd got too old to make any new rules and so he'd take his chances with the papers he now held.

There was a moment of silence after the draw. Then Josiah Starn spoke plaintively: "I've got nothin' but five cards of doubtful value, but, as a neighborly act, I'll start the music for two dollars." Paul Jenkins said he would follow his first idea. Swear and back out. Scattergood complacently observed, "I caught that pair of kings, and the least I can do, sitting behind an ace full, is to see Josiah Starn's two dollars and rise him a cool ten."

It was Matthew Simpson's turn to speak. Josiah Starn and Isaac Scattergood, the only men left in the game, eyed Matthew Simpson suspiciously as he toyed with his cards and seemed in doubt whether to bet or not. At last he came to a decision and speaking very slowly, said, "Boys, we are all old friends and this is a day of thanksgiving. I'd orter put this hand down-drop it sudden. That would be good poker, but I ain't playing poker just now-I'm playing friends. I don't like to quit ahead and so to distribute my winnings I'm agoin' to see Starn's two dollars, Scattergood's ten dollars and tip the pot a cool one hundred."

Once more it was Josiah Starn's turn to speak. An expression which told of deep feeling but a perfect resignation to the inevitable, brightened, if it did not beautify his rugged features, and as he spoke his old friends were conscious of a new dignity in his words and tones.

Boys," he began, "I've long been thinking of giving up farming and turning missionary, and when I devotes myself entirely to my fellow-men I ain't goin' to want no kind of property to worry about. Now this particular hand in this yer particular game, on this particular pious day, gives me a chance to distribute all I've got to my best friends in a way that won't make 'em feel it's charity I gives. A follerin' this idea up, I'm going to do a bluff. There's Scattergood's

rise of ten dollars that uses up all the silver I've got left. Simpson, you've always said them two Alderney cows of mine would be dog cheap at one hundred dollars. My sorrel horse, Tom, with cart and harness, is good for say eighty-five dollars. Then there's three ploughs and a new harrow--we'll let them go for twenty-five dollars more." As he spoke Josiah put all these items down on a piece of paper, added up the total, and then continued. "Them goods and chattels figures up two hundred and ten dollars, and here they all goes into this distribution-pot. That sees your rise of one hundred dollars, Simpson, and lifts the pot one hundred and ten more."

Scattergood read the due bill over a bit nervously, and at last remarked, "It'll be Simpson's money, sure. But Simpson's cut out to be a rich man; I ain't. He'll get all my money sooner or later, and to make it sooner, I'll call. My potato crop this year is good for at least $210;" and Simpson reluctantly placed a bill to this effect in the pot. Matthew Simpson said he'd call that rise of Josiah Starn's by putting up $60 in cash and a due bill for his colt, worth $50.

"Well, boy?" he asked Scattergood. "What can you show? I know you were lying about those aces.

"I display your queens," calmly stated Scattergood. "No good-four aces here," and he made a move to draw in the pot, but checking himself as a matter of idle form. "Anything to say, Josiah?"

Josiah apparently came back from a long wander. "Anything to say? What have I got? Not much a reckon; but let's take another look." Carefully he slipped the cards one over the other. Boys, it's nothing

short of a down right miracle, I've caught a straight flush."

Catharine Anne Starn caught sight of Josiah five minutes before he reached home. so that when he arrived he found dinner on the table, and seven hungry little Starns all in their places.

"A bit late you are, Josiah," briskly exclaimed Catharine Anne.

"Sorry, mother; but you know when I get communin' with Nature I'm apt to forget the passage of time;" and Josiah dropped into the arm-chair at the head of the table. Catharine Anne from behind the great turkey, looked at him interrogatively for a moment, and then in rather sharp tones asked, "Have you forgot all about saying grace ?"

"Of course, of course;" and Josiah, in a voice trembling with emotion, said: "For what we have received this day, O, Lord! make us truly, truly thankful."

The dinner was a great success.

Catha

rine Anne regarded her husband with a happier look than she had worn since her wedding day, and gave him extra helpings to all the good things.

When the plum pudding and mince pies had disappeared and the children had gone out, Catharine Anne came over to where Jo-. siah was sitting and, bending down, kissed him, whispering, “You've made me very glad to-day, Josiah. I am very, very proud of you."

"How's that, Catharine Anne ?"

"I've never done you justice, Josiah. Somehow, I never could believe you had the truw religious spirit, but, no man without that spirit could have put the onction and the fer-ver you did into your blessing to-day. Forgive me, Josiah, for my hasty judgment."

Josiah placed his big right hand over his eyes. "Jumping at conclusions is allus risky business, Catharine Anne;" but, as she hurried away to quell a disturbance` among the children, he muttered, "Catharine Anne -bless the old girl-has been a good wife to me. I'll buy her that ten-dollar Bible with pictures of all the 'postals and prophets in it next time I go to town-and--I don't believe I'll ever-play poker—again."— Cornhill Magazine.

valleys;

It is he that leads in the midsummer sallies High into the steeps where the gray chaparral is;

It is he that leads to the low lagoon.

Where the wild mustard splashes the slope with yellow,

-He has turned at bay-oh, the powerful fellow!

See the toss of his head,-hear the breath and the bellow;

How he tears the ground with his angry hoofs!

Now he breaks a wild path thro' the deep, plumy rushes;

(A loud bird high on a tamarack hushes)

Right on thro' a glory of crimson he crushes,

On into the gloom under leafy roofs.

Oh, the joy of the wind in our faces! We follow

The cattle,-we shout down the poppy-hung hollow.

See! out of the cliff we have startled the swallow,

And startled the echoes on rocky fells. Ho! what was it passed ?-were they pigeons

or sparrows

That whispered away like a hurtle of arrows?

The rose odor thickens; the deep gorge narrows;

Now the herd swings down thro' the scented dells.

Speed, speed, leave the brooks to their pebbles and prattle;

Sweep on with the thunder and surge of the cattle,

The hurry, the shouting, the wild joy of battle,

The hills and the wind and the open light.

Now on into camp by the sycamores yonder; Now o'er the guitar let the light fingers

wander;

Let thoughts in the high heart grow pensive and fonder;

Then stars-and the dreams of a summer night.

-The Overland Monthly.

VIII.

THE PEOPLE AND THEIR

RULERS.

(Apropos of Election Day.)

[An extract from a sermon delivered by the Reverend Henry Van Dyke, D. D., before the Sons of the Revolution in the State of New York.]

AUL in Israel, and Nebuchadnezzar in

liam the Silent in Holland, and Philip II. in Spain, and George III. in Great Britain, and George Washington in America,-all the powers that be, or have been, were ordained of God. And yet in every case the forces that have created them, and the causes that have exalted them, are to be sought in the character of the nations over which they have ruled. God ordains the power, but He ordains it to fit the people. A bandit-chief for a tribe of brigands, a tyrant for slaves, an inquisitor for bigots, a sovereign tax-collector for a nation of shop-keepers, and a liberator for a race of freemen. The ruler is but the exponent of the inmost thoughts,

desires, and ambitions of the ruled; sometimes their punishment, and sometimes their reward.

Therefore we advance (subject to those limitations and exceptions that are always understood among intelligent people when they speak in broad terms). The people are responsible for the character of their rulers.

There are some complications which obscure the operation of this law in a monarchy, an empire, or an oligarchy. A hereditary crown, a sword transformed into a sceptre, a transmitted title, gives an opportunity to usurp or extend unrighteous power. And yet even here, a keen, clear eye can discern the people in the sovereign. Napoleon raised his empire of conquest cemented with blood, on a prepared foundation in the heart of France filled with the lust of military glory. George III. obtained the power to` nominate his own ministers of incompetent arrogance to carry out his policy of colonial oppression, from a national conscience dulled by commercial rapacity and a fatwitted spirit of Toryism fallen into a contemptuous indifference for the rights of others. But in a republic the truth emerges distinct and vivid, so that a child can read it. The rulers are chosen from the people by the people. The causes which produce the men, and raise them to office, and clothe them with authority, are in the heart of the people. Therefore in the long run, the people must be judged by, and answer for, the kind of men who rule over them.

When we apply this law to the beginning of our history it gives us ground for gratitude and noble pride of birth. George Washington is the incarnation of the Spirit of '76, and the conclusive answer to all calumniators of the Revolution. The men of the Revolution held him up, because he was in their hearts, their hope and their ideal. God ordained him as a power, because the people chose him as their leader. And when we honor

his memory, we honor theirs. We praise famous men and our fathers that begat us." But shall our children and our children's children have the same cause to thank and esteem us? Shall they say of us, as we say of our fathers, "They were true patriots, who loved their country with a loyal, steadfast love, and desired it to be ruled by the best men?"

That depends on one thing, my brethren, and on one thing only and unalterable. Not on the chance of war, the necessity of revolution, the coming of a national crisis. The obligation of patriotism is perennial and its occasion comes with every year. In peace or war, in prosperity or in adversity, the true patriot is he who maintains the highest ideal