assault was made on New
Orleans. General Jackson hurried to its defence and called armed men to
his aid from all quarters, caring little who they were so they were
ready to fight.

Among those who answered the summons was Jean Lafitte. He called on Old
Hickory and told him that he had a body of trained artillerymen under
his command, tried and capable men, and would like to take a hand in
defence of the city. Jackson, who had not long before spoken of the
Lafittes as "hellish banditti," was very glad now to accept their aid.
We read of his politely alluding to them as "these gentlemen," and he
gave into their charge the siege-guns in several of the forts.

These guns were skilfully handled and vigorously served, the Baratarians
fighting far more bravely in defence of the city than they had done in
defence of their ships. They lent important aid in the defeat of
Packenham and his army, and after the battle Jackson commended them
warmly for their gallant conduct, praising the Lafittes also for "the
same courage and fidelity."

A few words more and we have done. Of the pirates, two only made any
future mark. Dominique Yon, the captain who had shared imprisonment
with Pierre Lafitte, now settled down to quiet city life, became a
leader in ward politics, and grew into something of a local hero,
fighting in the precincts instead of on the deck.

Jean Lafitte, however, went back to his old trade. From New Orleans he
made his way to Texas, then a province of Mexico, and soon we hear of
him at his buccaneering work. For a time he figured as governor of
Galveston. Then, for some years, he commanded a fleet that wore the thin
guise of Columbian privateers. After that he threw off all disguise and
became an open pirate, and as late as 1822 his name was the terror of
the Gulf. Soon afterward a fleet of the United States swept those waters
and cleared it of all piratical craft. Jean Lafitte then vanished from
view, and no one knows whether he died fighting for the black flag or
ended his life quietly on land.

_THE HEROES OF THE ALAMO._

On a day in the year 1835 the people of Nacogdoches, Texas, were engaged
in the pleasant function of giving a public dinner to one of their
leading citizens. In the midst of the festivities a person entered the
room whose appearance was greeted with a salvo of hearty cheers. There
seemed nothing in this person's appearance to call forth such a welcome.
He was dressed in a half-Indian,