in Harry Ballard's city room of the _Chicago Inter-Ocean_, at
Madison and Dearborn) MacDonald boomed out the War Song of the Ogallallas,
he scored the big hit of the opera.

WAR SONG OF THE OGALLALLAS.

Great is the warrior of the Ogallallas,
Fearless his heart is and great is his glory.
Lighted my war-fires and hill-tops flaming
Red to the skies, arouse all my braves.
In the air the swelling war-cry--
In the air that swelling cry--
Wildest sound to combat calling,
Swift the onset in the lust of war.

Shrill is the cry of the wolf
As he howls in the moonlight,
Shrill is the sound of the war-cry--
Ogallalla! Ogallalla!

Lo! where the warriors, trailing their lances,
Sweep o'er the plain upon resistless steeds!
There, on the trail, vengeance is launching
Swift as the arrow upon the hated foe.
In their hearts the whispered war-cry--
In their hearts that wailing cry.
Low the sound of vengeance breathing.
Ride they boldly in the thrill of war.

Low is the cry of the bird
As he chants in the moonlight,
Low is the sound of the war-cry--
Ogallalla! Ogallalla!

Great are the warriors of the Ogallallas!
Strong of arm and fearless of danger,
Where wait the foemen--
Warriors will meet them where the white sun
Is burning on the plain.
In the air resounds the war-cry--
In the air resounds that cry.
Wildest sound to combat calling,
Bold the onset of the warriors charge.

Shrill is the cry of the wolf
As he howls in the moonlight,
Shrill is the sound of the war-cry--
Ogallalla! Ogallalla!

Mr. Barnabee (Professor Andover--dignified, staid and circumscribed; a
misogynist if there ever was one) took huge delight in accentuating the
satire of his character's advice to the bevy of school girls in his charge
to--

BEWARE OF LOVE.

Whoever heard of Homer making sonnets to an eye-brow?
Or Aristotle singing to a maiden with his lute?
Imagine wise old Plato, with his pale and massive high-brow.
Wrinkling it by thinking how his love he'd prosecute;
Do you think Professor Agassiz learned all he knew by sighing?
Or that Mr. Herbert Spencer thought out ethics at a ball?
If our own lamented Emerson of love had been a-dying,
We never should have heard of his philosophy at all.

Can love teach youthful maidens anything at all of Botany?
Or Mat