on of good-humor and fellowship. The last words I
recall as addressed to me were that he would feel better when I was
back at Goldsboro'. We parted at the gang-way of the River Queen about
noon of March 28th, and I never saw him again. Of all the men I ever
met, he seemed to possess more of the elements of greatness, combined
with goodness, than any other.

LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY

IDA VOSE WOODBURY

Again thy birthday dawns, O man beloved,
Dawns on the land thy blood was shed to save,
And hearts of millions, by one impulse moved,
Bow and fresh laurels lay upon thy grave.

The years but add new luster to thy glory,
And watchmen on the heights of vision see
Reflected in thy life the old, old story,
The story of the Man of Galilee.

We see in thee the image of Him kneeling
Before the close-shut tomb, and at the word
"Come forth," from out the blackness long concealing
There rose a man; clearly again was heard

The Master's voice, and then, his cerements broken,
Friends of the dead a living brother see;
Thou, at the tomb where millions lay, hast spoken:
"Loose him and let him go!"--the slave was free.

And in the man so long in thraldom hidden
We see the likeness of the Father's face,
Clod changed to soul; by thy atonement bidden,
We hasten to the uplift of a race.

Spirit of Lincoln! Summon all thy loyal;
Nerve them to follow where thy feet have trod,
To prove, by voice as clear and deed as royal,
Man's brotherhood in our one Father--God.

FEBRUARY TWELFTH

BY MARY H. HOWLISTON

It was early in the evening in a shop where flags were sold.

There were large flags, middle-sized flags, small flags and little
bits of flags. The finest of all was Old Glory. Old Glory was made of
silk and hung in graceful folds from the wall.

"Attention!" called Old Glory.

Starry eyes all over the room looked at him.

"What day of the month is it?"

"February Twelfth," quickly answered the flags.

"Whose birthday is it?" "Abraham Lincoln's."

"Where is he buried?" "Springfield, Illinois."

"Very well," said Old Glory, "you are to take some of Uncle Sam's
children there to-night."

"Yes, captain," said the flags, wondering what he meant.

"First, I must know whether you are good American flags. How many red
stripes have you?"

"Seven!" was the answer.

"How many white stripes?" "Six!"

"Ho