he more deliberate aim at
the heart of the wolf?

And now, as I push on again for my destination, let me say to you, my
boy, that few who read my wonderfully lifelike picture of Mackerel
strategy and carnage, have any idea of the awful perils constantly
assailing a reliable war-correspondent of the present day.

Thus: during a great battle which I attended in Accomac, a piece of
shell tore off my head,--that is to say, the head of my cane.

At the second battle of Paris, while I was in the act of taking notes
of the prevailing strategy, a cannon-ball took my legs off,--that is to
say, the legs of my camp-stool.

In the summer of '62, as I was sitting in the doorway of my tent, on
the shores of Duck Lake, a case-shot, of immense size, entered my
chest,--that is to say, the chest in which I carry my linen.

Cherish me, my boy, make much of me; for there is no telling how soon
some gory discharge of artillery may send me to join the angel-choir.

But here we are in the tent of Captain Villiam Brown; and the manner in
which the Mackerel officers are clustered about the round table in the
centre, reminds me of flies around a lump of sugar--supposing a lump of
sugar to be shaped exactly like a portly black bottle.

Sergeant O'Pake rises with a manuscript in his band, and says he:

"Comrades,--let me read to you a weird legend, of which I am the sole
author and proprietor, and to which I would draw your most political
attention."

And the sergeant forthwith delivered this remarkable poetical report of

"THE IRISHMAN'S CHRISTMAS.

"Hic!"--TERENCE.

"Ould Mother Earth makes Irishmen her universal pride,
You'll find them all about the world, and ev'rywhere beside;
And good Saint Peter up above is often feeling tired,
Because of sainted Irishmen applying to be hired.

"Thus, being good and plentiful, 'tis proper we should find
A spacious house stuck full of them where'er we have a mind,
And unto such an edifice our present tale will reach,
With sixty nice, convaynient rooms--a family in each.

"No matter where it stands at all; but this we'll let you know,
It constitutes itself alone a fashionable row;
And when a bill of "Rooms to let" salutes you passing by,
You see recorded under it, "No Naygurs need apply."

"Now, Mr. Mike O'Mulligan and servant boarded here,--
At least, his wife at service spent a portion of the year,--
And when, attired in