the home of the brave?"

"Sing it! sing it!" cried the whole company. Charles Durang mounted a
chair and then for the first time "The Star-Spangled Banner" was sung.
The tune was "To Anacreon in Heaven," an air which had long been a
favorite. Halls, theaters, and private houses rang with its strains.

The fleet was out of sight even before the poem was printed. In the
middle of the night the admiral had sent to the British soldiers this
message, "I can do nothing more," and they hurried on board the vessels.
It was not long before they left Chesapeake Bay altogether,--perhaps
with the new song ringing in their ears as they went.

THE LITTLE DRUMMER-BOY

BY ALBERT BUSHNELL HART (ADAPTED)

A few days before a certain regiment received orders to join General
Lyon, on his march to Wilson's Creek, the drummer-boy of the regiment
was taken sick, and carried to the hospital.

Shortly after this there appeared before the captain's quarters, during
the beating of the reveille, a good-looking, middle-aged woman, dressed
in deep mourning, leading by the hand a sharp, sprightly looking boy,
apparently about twelve or thirteen years of age.

Her story was soon told. She was from East Tennessee, where her husband
had been killed by the Confederates, and all her property destroyed.
Being destitute, she thought that if she could procure a situation for
her boy as drummer, she could find employment for herself.

While she told her story, the little fellow kept his eyes intently fixed
upon the countenance of the captain. And just as the latter was about to
say that he could not take so small a boy, the lad spoke out:--

"Don't be afraid, Captain," said he, "I can drum."

This was spoken with so much confidence that the captain smiled and said
to the sergeant:--

"Well, well, bring the drum, and order our fifer to come here."

In a few moments a drum was produced and the fifer, a round-shouldered,
good-natured fellow, who stood six feet tall, made his appearance. Upon
being introduced to the lad, he stooped down, resting his hands on his
knees, and, after peering into the little fellow's face for a moment,
said:--

"My little man, can you drum?"

"Yes, sir," answered the boy promptly. "I drummed for Captain Hill in
Tennessee."

The fifer immediately straightened himself, and, placing his fife to
his lips, played the "Flowers of Edinburgh," one of the most difficult
things to follow with the drum. And nobly did th