We wan't very particular, you know, 'case one can't always tell in time of war."

AUNTY—“ Where did you have your camp ?"

DADDY- "We use to camp where we could git a chance. We kept clear of Washington and the main army as far as we could, becase the army didn't live well, and we made that our chief business. We did more at raisin' supplies than all the army."

AUNTY-" Then you ought to have a pension."

DADDY "We looked out for that, and took our pension in advance, in the way of cattle and so on; and when we couldn't get anything else, we telled some ugly old woman she was handsome, and got some pie and some cider. He, he, he !" Exit, in a hurry.

THE DEVIL'S WIFE.

His Majesty, Satan, one morning awoke,
And found that his wife was dead;
He said to himself, "This is really no joke,

My household requires a head;

But where shall I find, on this limited earth,
The woman to fill such a difficult berth?

For she must be witty and rapid of tongue,
Yet shrewd as the shrewdest of men,
As lovely as Venus, deliciously young,
And careless of profit and gain.
For I would be loved for myself alone,
And not for my dark Satanic throne.

But far more important than beauty or youth-
Though of course I want these as well-
Are the virtues of innocence, candor and truth,
For though I may reign in Hell,

The woman who holds my wife's position
Must be altogether above suspicion."

ANON.

So the Devil set forth on his anxious quest
For a lady to go below,

But he found that he lost his natural rest,

And his progress was terribly slow-
For the woman he wanted was hard to find,
And the cares of his kingdom weighed on his mind.
The daughters of England were lovely, he saw,
A nation of fair-haired queens,

But those rosy lips could lay down the law,
And they lived beyond his means:
So he quietly wandered over to France,
And there the Parisians led him a dance.

He really thought for awhile he had found
The actual thing he wanted,

But ere another month came round

The Devil was somewhat daunted. "These ladies are quite beyond me, that's plain!" He said to himself, as he left for Spain.

But here, though the women were pretty and kind,
He was very much disappointed;

They had eyes, to be sure, but he wanted a mind,
And their hair was too much anointed.

So again his majesty sallied forth,

And this time thought he would visit the North.
But why should I tell of his lengthening work,
And of all the countries he tried,

Till he suddenly thought one fine day of New York,
And instantly thitherward hied.

But quick as he was, the women were ready,
Their heads were clear and their hands were steady.

They took one look and looked him through,
And they knew what he wanted at once;
And innocence beamed from their orbs of blue,
And candor was queen for the nonce.

Oh! you should have seen how their eyelids fell,
As they timidly asked for the news from Hell.
The Devil was flattered, flurried and pleased,
"What grace! What refinement! What sense!”

How quickly his half-expressed idea was seized,
And nothing he said gave offense!

He had never felt so much at home before,
And liked and admired them more and more.
But time was pressing-he could not wait-
Though he scarcely knew how to choose,
So he offered his crown and his royal state,
Himself and his dead wife's shoes,
To a damsel whose candor and virtues intact
Were all that the Devil himself could exact.
She accepted his offer, and did not repent
As the day of her wedding drew nigh,

For you know that to Hell there's an easy descent,
And her friends would drop in by and by;

And the Devil declared himself more and more blessed,
As the innocent creature he joyfully pressed.

But when she was married and safely installed
As queen in the regions of shade,

It is said that the Devil was somewhat appalled
At the bargain he found he had made;

And thought, on the whole, 'twould have been as well,
Had he stayed at home and married in Hell.

THE ENCHANTED SHIRT.

The king was sick. His cheek was red,
And his eye was clear and bright;
He ate and drank with a kingly zest,

And peacefully snored at night.

JOHN HAY.

But he said he was sick-and a king should know;
And doctors came by the score-

They did not cure him. He cut off their heads

And sent to the schools for more.

At last two famous doctors came,
And one was poor as a rat;

He had passed his life in studious toils
And never found time to grow fat.

The other had never looked in a book;
His patients gave him no trouble;
If they recovered they paid him well,

If they died their heirs paid double.
Together they looked at the royal tongue
As the king on his couch reclined;

In succession they thumped his august chest,
But no trace of disease could find.

The old sage said, "You're as sound as a nut." "Hang him up!" roared the king, in a gale— In a ten-knot gale of royal rage;

The other leech grew a shadow pale;

But he pensively rubbed his sagacious nose,
And thus his prescription ran:

"The king will be well if he sleeps one night In the shirt of a Happy Man."

Wide o'er the realm the couriers rode,

And fast their horses ran,

And many they saw, and to many they spake,
But they found no Happy Man.

They found poor men who would fain be rich,
And rich who thought they were poor;
And men who twisted their waists in stays,
And women that short hose wore.

They saw two men by the roadside sit,
And both bemoaned their lot;
For one had buried his wife, he said,
And the other one had not.

At last they came to a village gate;
A beggar lay whistling there;

He whistled and sang and laughed, and rolled
On the grass in the soft June air.

The weary couriers paused and looked
At the scamp so blithe and gay,

And one of them said, “Heaven save you, friend,

You seem to be happy to-day."

"Oh, yes, fair sirs," the rascal laughed,

And his voice rang free and glad; "An idle man has so much to do

That he never has time to be sad,"

"This is our man," the courier said,
"Our luck has led us aright;

I will give you a hundred ducats, friend,
For the loan of your shirt to-night."

The merry blackguard lay back on the grass
And laughed till his face was black;

"I would do it, God wot," and he roared with fun,
"But I haven't a shirt to my back."

Each day to the king the reports came in

Of his unsuccessful spies,

And the sad panorama of human woes
Passed daily under his eyes.

And he grew ashamed of his useless life
And his maladies hatched in gloom;
He opened the windows and let in the air
Of the free heaven into his room.

And out he went in the world, and toiled
In his own appointed way;

And the people blessed him, the land was glad,
And the king was well and gay.

JAMES AVERY.

At Portsmouth, in a tavern dark,
Close to the waterside,

A crew of reckless sailors sat,

And drank their grog, and cried.

Loud was the talk and rude the joke;
So deep the jovial din

They did not mark a lean, wild shape,
Who shivering entered in.

R. BUCHANAN.