"Stand over, then, and sing out clear, Like this: 'Squad! stand at ease!'" "O, Charles! you'll wake papa, up stairs; Don't shout like that, love, please." "Now, stand at ease, like this, you see! And then, I need scarce mention, The next command you have to give, Is this one: 'Squad! attention!' "Now, Amy, smartly after me; (You're sure, dear, it won't bore you?) 'Forward, march! Halt! Front! Right dress!' There, now, I'm close before you. "'Present arms!'" "Well, it does look odd." "You don't believe I'd trifle! We hold our arms out, just like this, In drill without the rifle. "Now say, 'Salute your officer!'" "O, Charles! for shame! how can you? I thought you were at some such trick, You horrid, naughty man you." Charles "ordered arms" without command; She smoothed her ruffled hair, And pouted, frowned, and blushed, and then Said softly, "_As you were_!" A BLACK NIGHTINGALE'S SONG. Shortly after our troops occupied one of the towns in Virginia, a squad occupying a tent near a dwelling heard delightful music. The unknown vocalist sang in such sweet, tremulous, thrilling notes, that the boys strained their ears to drink in every note uttered. On the following day they made some excuse to visit the house, but no one was there. Once they observed a sylph-like form, but she was not the person; and so they lived on, each night hearing the same divine music. One night, when they were gathered together, the voice was again heard. "By Jove!" said one, "I'm bound to find out who that is; she must be discovered." A dozen voices took up the remark, and a certain nervous youth was delegated to reconnoiter the place. He crept on tiptoe toward the dwelling, leaped the garden-wall, and finally, undiscovered, but pallid and remorseful, gained the casement. Softly raising his head, he peeped within. The room was full of music; he seemed to grow blind for a moment, when lo! upon the kitchen-table sat the mysterious songster, an ebony-hued negress, scouring the tinware, and singing away. Just as he was peering through the window, the ebony songster discovered him. The soldier's limbs sank beneath him, and the black specimen of humanity shouted: "Go 'way dar, you soger-man, or I'll let fly de fryin' pan at your head! You musn't stan' dar peekin' at dis chile." The soldier left, his romantic vision dispelled. OUR HOOSIER BOYS. Dedicated to the Brave Soldiers of Indiana. From East to West your camp-fires blaze, Hoosier boys! our Hoosier boys! On Vicksburg's hights our flag you raise, Hoosier boys! our Hoosier boys! And on Virginia's trait'rous soil, In answer to your country's call, The echoes of your footsteps fall, Hoosier boys! our Hoosier boys!