Sir--Yours of -- date received. Contents noted. I have long been desirous of visiting the city of "magnificent distances," but have not hitherto been able to realize sufficient funds at any one time to gratify that desire; I therefore gratefully avail myself of your obliging offer to defray the expenses of my journey, and most respectfully suggest the propriety of your "going on with your rat-killing." I am, sir, your obedient servant, MARTIN IGO, Lieutenant and A. A. Q. M., 35th Ind. Vols. This closed Igo's official correspondence with the Department at Washington. He had the "_good luck_" to be captured by Morgan last fall, and, of course, Morgan destroyed all his papers. That struck a balance for him for the quarter ending last October. He had another stroke of good fortune at Stone River, on the 1st of January, in having a wagon captured. Of course, all his papers were in that identical wagon. He was very indignant that a battle did not take place about the last of March, as that would have saved him a heap of trouble. Do not think, however, that our Quarter-master has done any thing that will not bear investigation, for a more honest or conscientious man is not to be found in the Quarter-master's Department; but Igo has a holy horror of vouchers and invoices, and receipts all in triplicate; and small blame to him for it. FLING OUT TO THE BREEZE, BOYS! Dedicated to the Second Brigade, Second Division, M'cook's Corps. By W. A. OGDEN. Fling out to the breeze, boys, That old starry flag-- Let it float as in days famed in story; For millions of stout hearts And bayonets wait, To clear its old pathway to glory. When the first wail of war That was heard on our shore Re-echoed with fierce promulgation, Columbia's brave sons Then rallied and fought, In defense of our glorious nation. From East, West, North, and South, Their numbers did pour, Alike seemed their courage and daring; While boldly they stood, As the fierce battle raged, Each nobly the proud contest sharing. Those patriots have passed-- They now sleep 'neath the sod; But _their_ flag shall be _our_ flag forever! We'll boldly march forward, And strike to the earth The fiends who it from us would sever. Hark! hark! from the South Comes a sound, deep and shrill-- 'Tis the sound of the cannon's deep rattle! Up! forward! brave boys, And beat back with a will The foe from the red field of battle. We'll rally and rally, And rally again, To our standard now pennoned and flying; And we swear, 'neath its bright folds Of crimson and gold, To _own_ it, though living or dying.