"The sun was well down in the west, mellowing everything with that peculiar golden hue which is the charm of our autumn days. To the left, our cavalry were forming for another and final charge. To the right front, our infantry, in unbroken line, in the face of the enemy's deadly musketry, with banners unfurled, now enveloped in smoke, now bathed in the golden glory of the setting sun, were seen slowly but steadily pressing forward. Suddenly, above the almost deafening din and tumult of the conflict, an exultant shout broke forth, and simultaneously our cavalry and infantry line charged. As he stood on tiptoe to see the lines crash together, himself and guards were suddenly caught in the confused tide of a thoroughly beaten army--cavalry, artillery, and infantry--broken, demoralized, and routed, hurrying through Winchester." * * * * * RING AROUND THE ROSY. Jack was sitting quietly by the fire the other day, doing no harm to anybody, when a young person who thought well of himself rushed in and attacked him with the assertion, "You can't do that!" The boy held out a card, upon which was drawn a dot in the centre of a circle, and repeated his challenge: "You can't draw that figure without taking your pencil off the paper!" [Illustration] Jack looked up and smiled. He bent one end of the card over, made a dot with his pencil on the face of it just at the margin of the part folded over, after which he moved the pencil across the overlying paper to the point where he wished to begin his circle; then he let the line slip off on to the face of the card, allowed the bent-over portion to fly back, and finished the "ring around the rosy" without once taking his pencil off the paper. This done, he handed the card to his friend, and went on studying the fire, without a word. It is great to be great! * * * * * HE TOOK ONE LOAD. It is reported of the late William H. Vanderbilt that his father, the Commodore, did not give his son, when a young man, much credit for business ability. Absolute verification of this is doubtful, but a good story is told of an incident wherein the son proved that he too carried in his head some of the astuteness in commercial intercourse that his father possessed. The Commodore presented him with a farm on Staten Island, informing him that he might live there, and to make the land pay, as that was all he cared to contribute towards the lad's support. A short time later the Commodore inquired of his son how he was getting along. "Not very good, father," the young man replied. "What I need badly is some means of improving the earth." "Well, suppose you go up to my stables and get a load of refuse; but mind, I shall only give you one load." "All right," replied the son, and he took one load; but, to the astonishment of the Commodore, when he went to the stables they had been entirely cleaned.