Successful Recitations Part 34

South Mountain towered on our right Far off the river lay; And over on the wooded height We kept their lines at bay.

At last the muttering guns were stilled, The day died slow and wan; At last the gunners' pipes were filled, The sergeant's yarns began.

When, as the wind a moment blew Aside the fragrant flood, Our brushwood razed, before our view A little maiden stood.

A tiny tot of six or seven, From fireside fresh she seemed; Of such a little one in heaven I know one soldier dreamed.

And as she stood, her little hand Went to her curly head; In grave salute, "And who are you?"

At length the sergeant said.

"Where is your home?" he growled again.

She lisped out, "Who is me?

Why, don't you know I'm little Jane, The pride of Battery B?

"My home? Why, that was burnt away, And Pa and Ma is dead; But now I ride the guns all day, Along with Sergeant Ned.

"And I've a drum that's not a toy, And a cap with feathers too; And I march beside the drummer-boy On Sundays at review.

"But now our baccy's all give out The men can't have their smoke, And so they're cross; why even Ned Won't play with me, and joke!

"And the big colonel said to-day-- I hate to hear him swear-- 'I'd give a leg for a good smoke Like the Yanks have over there.'

"And so I thought when beat the drum, And the big guns were still, I'd creep beneath the tent, and come Out here across the hill.

"And beg, good Mr. Yankee-men, You'd give me some Long Jack; Please do, when we get some again, I'll surely bring it back.

"And so I came; for Ned, says he, 'If you do what you say, You'll be a general yet, maybe, And ride a prancing bay.'"

We brimmed her tiny ap.r.o.n o'er,-- You should have heard her laugh, As each man from his scanty store Shook out a generous half.

To kiss the little mouth stooped down A score of grimy men, Until the sergeant's husky voice Said "'Tention, squad?" and then,

We gave her escort till good-night The little waif we bid, Then watched her toddle out of sight, Or else 'twas tears that hid.

Her baby form nor turned about, A man nor spoke a word, Until at length a far faint shout Upon the wind we heard,

We sent it back, and cast sad eyes Upon the scene around, That baby's hand had touched the ties That brother's once had bound.

That's all, save when the dawn awoke: Again the work of h.e.l.l, And through the sullen clouds of smoke The screaming missiles fell.

Our colonel often rubbed his gla.s.s, And marvelled much to see, Not a single sh.e.l.l that whole day fell In the camp of Battery B.

THE DANDY FIFTH.

BY F.H. Ga.s.sAWAY.

'Twas the time of the working men's great strike, When all the land stood still At the sudden roar from the hungry mouths That labour could not fill; When the thunder of the railroad ceased, And startled towns could spy A hundred blazing factories Painting each midnight sky.

Through Philadelphia's surging streets Marched the brown ranks of toil, The grimy legions of the shops, The tillers of the soil; White-faced militia-men looked on, And women shrank with dread; 'Twas muscle against money then-- 'Twas riches against bread.

Once, as the mighty mob tramped on, A carriage stopped the way, Upon the silken seat of which A young patrician lay.

And as, with haughty glance, he swept Along the jeering crowd, A white-haired blacksmith in the ranks Took off his cap and bowed.

That night the Labour League was met, And soon the chairman said: "There hides a Judas in our midst; One man who bows his head, Who bends the coward's servile knee When capital rolls by."

"Down with him! Kill the traitor cur!"

Rang out the savage cry.

Up rose the blacksmith, then, and held Erect his head of grey-- "I am no traitor, though I bowed To a rich man's son to-day; And though you kill me as I stand-- As like you mean to do-- I want to tell you a story short, And I ask you'll hear me through.

"I was one of those who enlisted first, The old flag to defend, With Pope and Hallick, with 'Mac' and Grant, I followed to the end; And 'twas somewhere down on the Rapidan, When the Union cause looked drear, That a regiment of rich young bloods Came down to us from here.

"Their uniforms were by tailors cut, They brought hampers of good wine; And every squad had a n.i.g.g.e.r, too, To keep their boots in s.h.i.+ne; They'd nought to say to us dusty 'vets,'

And through the whole brigade, We called them the kid-gloved Dandy Fifth When we pa.s.sed them on parade.

"Well, they were sent to hold a fort The Rebs tried hard to take, 'Twas the key of all our line which naught While it held out could break, But a fearful fight we lost just then, The reserve came up too late; And on that fort, and the Dandy Fifth, Hung the whole division's fate.

"Three times we tried to take them aid, And each time back we fell, Though once we could hear the fort's far guns Boom like a funeral knell; Till at length Joe Hooker's corps came up, An' then straight through we broke; How we cheered as we saw those dandy coats Still back of the drifting smoke.

"With the bands at play and the colours spread We swarmed up the parapet, But the sight that silenced our welcome shout I shall never in life forget.

Four days before had their water gone-- They bad dreaded that the most-- The next their last scant rations went, And each man looked a ghost,

"As he stood, gaunt-eyed, behind his gun, Like a crippled stag at bay, And watched starvation--but not defeat-- Draw nearer every day.

Of all the Fifth, not four-score men Could in their places stand, And their white lips told a fearful tale, As we grasped each bloodless hand.

"The rest in the stupor of famine lay, Save here and there a few In death sat rigid against the guns, Grim sentinels in blue; And their Col'nel, _he_ could not speak nor stir, But we saw his proud eye thrill As he simply glanced at the shot-scarred staff Where the old flag floated still!

"Now, I hate the tyrants who grind us down, While the wolf snarls at our door, And the men who've risen from us--to laugh At the misery of the poor; But I tell you, mates, while this weak old hand I have left the strength to lift, It will touch my cap to the proudest swell Who fought in the Dandy Fifth!"

"BAY BILLY."

BY F.H. Ga.s.sAWAY.

'Twas the last fight at Fredericksburg-- Perhaps the day you reck-- Our boys, the Twenty-second Maine, Kept Early's men in check.

Just where Wade Hampton boomed away The fight went neck and neck.

All day we held the weaker wing, And held it with a will; Five several stubborn times we charged The battery on the hill, And five times beaten back, re-formed, And kept our columns still.

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,