of the West, who, attracted by her
snapping black eyes, engaged in a friendly conversation with the lady
after burning her house down. "Nothing easier in the world, madam."

"How so, Captain? You don't imagine I will take that odious oath, do
you? I assure you I would not do it for every nigger in the South."

"But you need not take that oath, madam--at least not _the_ oath."

"I do not understand you, Captain," said the widow, thoughtfully.

"I said you need not take the oath of allegiance; you can establish
your loyalty without it--at least," with a respectful bow, "I can
establish it for you."

"Indeed! How would you do it, Captain?"

"Simply enough. I am in the Government service; I command one of the
boats of the Western navy--technically denominated a ram, madam--down
here in the river. Of course, my loyalty is unimpeached, and, madam, I
assure you it is unimpeachable. Now, if I could only say to the
Government, those niggers are mine"----

The Captain waited a moment, to see what effect his speech was
producing.

"Well!" said the widow, impatiently tapping with her well-shaped foot
one of the smoking timbers of her late domicile.

"In short, my dear madam, you can save the niggers, save your
conscientious scruples, and save me from a future life of misery, by
becoming my wife!"

The Captain looked about wildly, as if he expected a sudden attack
from guerrillas. The widow tapped the smoldering timber more violently
for a few minutes, and then, turning her bright eyes full upon the
Captain, said:

"I'll do it!"

The next arrival at Cairo from Vicksburg brought the intelligence that
Captain Sutherland, of the ram Queen of the West, was married, a few
days since, on board the gunboat Tylor, to Mrs. Harris, of Skipwith
Landing. Several officers of the army and navy were present to witness
the ceremony, which was performed by a Methodist clergyman, and
Admiral Porter gave away the blushing bride. She is represented to be
a woman of indomitable pluck, and, for the present, shares the life of
her husband, on the ram Queen of the West.

COLONEL FRED JONES.

I was with him on his last trip from Cincinnati to Louisville, and
from thence to the army. Little did I think it was the last meeting.
Noble Fred! He has left a name that will never be erased from honor's
scroll. A writer in the Cincinnati _Commercial_, who knew him from
boyhood up, says:

"He is a native of this city, and favorably known as one