st a literary curiosity:

"THE INVALID'S PIPE.[2]

[2] This story has been transmitted to the Editor as the genuine
production of the son of a British military officer, only nine
years of age, and composed from a circumstance which actually
occurred in a noble German family.

"It was not far from the Castle of Fuerstenstein, near the spot where the
gallant Blucher, with the brave army of Silesia, won such glory, that
the Baron of Fuerstenstein met a maimed soldier, who was endeavouring to
reach Berlin to claim his pension, and whose age denoted that his wounds
had long been his honourable though painful companions. The Baron,
observing a very richly mounted pipe in the old man's possession,
accosted him with, 'God bless you, old soldier! does your pipe comfort
you this morning?' The pipe which the old soldier was smoking was made
of a curious sort of porcelain, and mounted with gold. The Baron
wondered to see so costly a pipe in the old soldier's possession, and
wishing to purchase it from him, said, 'My friend! what shall I give you
for your pipe?'

"'Oh, sir!' replied the soldier, shaking his head, 'this pipe I can
never part with; it was the gift of the bravest of men, who took it from
a Turkish Bashaw at the battle of Belgrade. There, sir, thanks to Prince
Eugene, we obtained noble spoils--there, where our troops so bravely
destroyed the Turkish squadrons.'

"'Talk another time of your exploits, my friend,' said the nobleman;
'here take this double ducat, and give me your pipe; I feel an
insurmountable wish to possess it.'

"'I am a poor man, sir, and have nothing to live upon but my pension;
yet I would not part with this pipe for all the gold that you possess.
Listen, sir, and I will relate to you the story of this pipe, which is
remarkable, or my poverty would long ere now have induced me to sell
it:--As we Hussars were charging over the enemy, a shot from the ranks
of the Janissaries pierced our noble captain through the breast; I
caught him in my arms, placed him on my horse, and carried him out of
the confusion of the battle. It was an irresistible sensation of
gratitude that prompted me to do so, for he had once rescued me when I
was wounded and taken prisoner. I watched over him to the latest moment;
and a few moments before his death, he gave me his purse and this pipe,
then pressed my hand and breathed his last sigh. Heroic spirit! never
shall I forget him!'

"As