aves the
cannon's mouth, slowly dying into a murmur and a dull explosion, as,
with a flash of fire, the missile explodes far away,--combine to form
a picture, that, despite the horrors of wounds and death, rouses the
enthusiasm and admiration of the beholder. When viewed from the deck
of one of an attacking fleet, the scene is even more impressive. At
each discharge of the great guns, the vessel reels and trembles like a
huge animal in agony. The surging waters alongside reflect in their
black depths the flash of the cannon and the fiery trail of the flying
shell. Far in the distance can be seen the flashes of the enemy's
guns, each of which may mean the despatch of a missile bringing death
and pain in its track. One who has witnessed such a spectacle can
readily understand the fascination which men find in the great game of
war.

[Illustration: The Star Spangled Banner.]

Pacing the deck of the one of the British vessels was a young
American, whose temperament was such that he could fully appreciate
all the beauties of the scene, even though harassed by anxious fears
lest the British should be successful. This man was Francis S. Key,
who had visited the fleet with a flag of truce, but was unable to get
away before the bombardment began. When the sun set on the evening of
the 13th, Key saw his country's flag waving proudly over the ramparts
at which the British guns had been so furiously pounding. Would that
flag still be there when the sun should rise again? That was the
question which Key asked himself as he anxiously walked the deck
throughout the night, striving to pierce the darkness, and make out,
by the lurid lightnings of the cannon, whether the flag was still
there. As the night wore on, Key took an old letter from his pocket,
and on the blank sheet jotted down the lines of the immortal national
song, "The Star Spangled Banner." Its words merely voice the writer's
thoughts; for often during that night he looked anxiously shorewards,
to see if

"the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof, through the night, that our flag was still there."

When the anxiously awaited daylight came, Fort McHenry still stood;
and over it waved defiantly the starry folds of the United States
flag. The British saw that, by land and sea, their attack had failed;
and early in the morning the fleet, after taking on board the remnant
of the land forces, sailed suddenly away, and left Baltimore safe.
They