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n, having made themselves at home in Mr. Bennington's office, and free with his property, are now publishing the Progress semi-weekly. Our pickets have captured some of the Yankee pickets, and have thus obtained a sight of the precious document. It must be consoling for Mr. Pennington and Mr. Vestal to be coolly informed, by means of the types and paper and other materials justly be longing to the former, that the present editor (whose name a friend who saw the affair does not recollect) has totally changed the politics of the paper; that the former editor was a vile secessionist, and other things more numerous than complimentary, whereas the present one was all sorts of a fellow. The editor announces that as soon as he can get some decent paper from New-York, he will publish the Progress daily; but with what he has now, he must confine himself to a semi-weekly. It is hard enough to rob a man of his money without cursing the style of the currency.--Wilmington Journal, March 29.
Scene at the Park Barracks, New-York.--Dramatis PERSONAe, A sick and wounded but good-looking soldier, and an anxious lady nurse in search of a subject: Lady Nurse--My poor fellow, can I do anything for you? Soldier (emphatically)--No, ma'am! Nothina! Lady Nurse--I should like to do something for you. Shall I not sponge your face and brow for you? Soldier (despairingly)--You may if you want to very bad; but you'll be the fourteenth lady as has done it this blessed mornina.--N. Y. Evening Post.
le with a frightened voice he sung A burden strange to Yankee tongue, Skedaddle! He saw no household fire, where he Might warm his tod or hominy; Beyond the Cordilleras shone, And from his lips escaped a groan, Skedaddle! “Oh! stay,” a cullered pusson said, “An‘ on dis bosom res' your hed.!” The octoroon she winked her eye, But still he answered, with a sigh, Skedaddle! “Beware McClellan, Buell, and Banks, Beware of Halleck's deadly ranks!” This was the planter's last Good Night; The chap replied, far out of sight, Skedaddle! At break of day, as several boys From Maine, New-York and Illinois Were moving Southward, in the air They heard these accents of despair, Skedaddle! A chap was found, and at his side A bottle, showing how he died, Still grasping in his hand of ice That banner with the strange device, Skedaddle! There in the twilight, thick and grey, Considerably played out he lay; And through the vapor, grey and thick, A voice fell, like a rocket-stick, Skedaddle
A literary soldier.--Adam Badeau, a literary man and journalist of New-York, volunteered, at Port Royal, to act in any capacity which might prove useful, when Gen. Sherman contemplated an advance upon Savannah, in January, 1862. He was immediately appointed volunteer Aid on Gen. Sherman's staff, and served in this capacity, without either rank or pay, till Gen. Sherman was relieved. The preparations for the siege of Fort Pulaski having then been completed, he volunteered and served as Aid to Gen. Gillmore, who commanded the United States forces during the bombardment of that work. He, with Gen. Gillmore, was the first to enter Fort Pulaski, being sent forward to meet the rebel officer who approached on Gen. Gillmore's landing, after the flag of the fort was struck. The rebel was Capt. Simms, late editor of the Savannah Republican. Capt. Simms' first words were civil: I trust, sir, you will pardon the delay that has occurred in receiving you: we thought you would land at the oth
A secession Trophy.--The following, says the Cincinnati Gazette, is a copy of a letter found on a rebel soldier captured at Bowling Green. In it was the ring so particularly spoken of: to Sis: this ring was made by me the lead was A bullett that killed colonel Slocum of the 71s N. Y. regiment. I taken this out of his head my self and made this ring out of it Sis you will keep this for me until I return and if you keep it for me you will oblige me and if I never live to get back sis keep it in memory of me dont loose it if I live to get back I intend to have it plated and if I never do get back sis you will have it plated and keep it the Bullett that killed Colonel Slocum of the 71s New-York regiment he was a brave man but on the wrong side A hotheaded Abolitionist so Enough About the ring.
hot about ten of these bosom friends of Phelps. The latter was sorely mortified to see his favorites run, and ordered a white sergeant to instruct them further in the evolutions of drill. The sergeant turned upon Phelps, and, after rebuking him severely, tore the stripes from his coat-sleeve indicating his rank, and told him that he was a private hereafter — that he would never drill negroes. The Delta states that eight vessels are loading at Havana for confederate ports, and that they have the stars and bars flying at their mast-heads. Captain Semmes has another privateer with a heavy armament of steel guns. She chased the Tuscarora nearly to New-York. The Sumter has been refitted and is out again in charge of the first lieutenant. Butler had the captain and one of the pilots (Mr. Miller) of the Whiteman, put in irons, for running into a gunboat. The Whiteman was sunk. General Williams's remains, which were on board, were afterwards found.--Vicksburgh Whig, August 27.
45. ye Ballade of Mans. Lovell. Mans. Lovell he mounted his General's steed, All on the New-Orleans levee; And he heard the guns of old Cockee But-ler, A sounding all over the sea — sea — sea-- A-sounding all over the sea! “Oh! what shall I do?” Mans. Lovell he said-- “Oh! what shall I do?” said he; “For this Butler's an old Massachusetts man, And he'll hang up a traitor like me — me — me--” He'll hang up a traitor like me! Mans. Lovell he called for a brandy cock-tail, And galloped from off the levee; And he vamosed New-Orleans, betwixt two days, As fast as his steed could flee — flee — flee-- As fast as his steed could flee! O Mansfield Lovell! you left New-York, A rebel and traitor to be; But, if ever you're caught by Cockee But-ler, Look out for your precious bod-ee — dee-- Look out