a password_" at Louisville.

Poor Stonnicker is dead. In trying, last fall, to ford that mad
torrent, Elkwater, during a storm, he was swept from his horse and
drowned.

Andy Hall, Ned Shoemaker, Doctor Ames, and other notables of the
"times that tried men's _soles_," were the recipients of the
hospitality of another of the family of Stonnickers, who lived up a
"ravine" about a mile nearer Huttonsville. Doctor Ames had musk upon
his handkerchief, which the young lady, (?) Miss Delilah Stonnicker,
noticing, as she waited upon the Doctor at the supper-table,
exclaimed: "'Lor', Doctor, how your _hankercher_ stinks!"

"Does it?" said the Doctor, coloring up to his very eyes, roars of
laughter proceeding from all present.

"Yaas; it stinks just like a skunk."

"Why, Miss Delilah, do you have skunks out here?" inquired the Doctor.

"_Yaas, lots on 'em up the gut out thar._"

NOW AND THEN.

Written by Enos B. REED,

And Recited by Mr. Alf BURNETT, at the Benefit of the Ladies'
Soldiers' Aid Society of Cincinnati, Saturday Evening, January 31st,
1863.

In other days, as it has oft been told
By those who sleep beneath the grave's dank mold,
In this, our loved, but now distracted land,
Men dwelt together as a household band;
Brothers they were, but not alone in name,
Sons of Columbia and Columbia's fame--
They loved the land, the fairest 'neath the sun,
Home of the brave--the land of Washington!

Peaceful the rivers as they flowed along
The plenteous fields, where swelled the harvest song;
Peaceful the mountains, as they reared on high
Their snow-capped peaks unto the azure sky--
Peaceful the valleys, where contentment smiled,
Blessing alike the parent and the child--
Peaceful the hearts which owned a country blest,
And owned their God, who gave them peace and rest!

The happy matron and the joyous maid
Alike were blest--the unknown traveler stayed
His weary limbs beneath their roof-tree's shade,
While home from toil the husbandman returned,
His honest hands the honest pittance earned,
Willing to share his humble meal with one
Whether from Winter's snows or Southern sun.

No North--no South, in those the better days--
Our starry flag o'er all--its genial rays
Glistened amid New England's dreary snows,
Or shone as proudly where the south wind blows:
One flag, one nation, and one God we claimed,