"How fitting that the magic touch of woman should consecrate this prison pen and make it a prison park! Only patient, persistent effort has made the change possible; for the soil is unresponsive, and tangled vines and underbrush had run riot for many years. But on this visit we found the grounds suitably enclosed, the Bermuda grass taking root, the moats and creek cleared of the vines and the conopy erected over that wonderful Providence Spring. The house erected for the caretaker much exceeded my expectations for comfort and convenience. Honeysuckles and roses clambered over the porch, and the rose garden, planned by Mrs. Turner, gave promise of beauty and fragrance where formerly had been barrenness and foul odors. On these grounds Ohio has raised a beautiful granite shaft, Massachusetts has placed a substantial monument near by, Rhode Island has honored her dead in bronze and stone, and last Memorial Day the Governor of Michigan came with friends to dedicate with appropriate ceremonies a monument to the brave sons of that State. Wisconsin has selected a site near the spot where some of her men encamped; and other States are planning to erect monuments, but wish first to be assured that the park will have permanent care." PLANTING THE FLAG AT ANDERSONVILLE. BY MRS. ANNIE WITTENMYER. We lift up the banner of freedom today, And let the world know that due honor we pay To liberty's martyrs, who starved for the right, And crown them with heroes who fell in the fight. Their chalice of woe was filled up to the brim; They drank to the dregs with high courage and vim, Nor faltered, nor wavered, but loyal and true, Stood firm by their colors, the red, white and blue. The earth was their pillow, their covering the sky; And thousands lay down on the bare ground to die; No artist can paint, no pen tell the story Of all they endured for love of "Old Glory." The Lord, in compassion, took note of their grief, And came, in His majesty, to their relief; He rode on the wind, where swift lightnings played, And hallowed the ground where the prisoners laid. They panted with thirst, ere the Presence passed by, But flashes of glory lit up the dark sky; A thunderbolt fell, with omnipotent ring, And opened the fountain of Providence Spring. And peace came at last. Ah! for thousands too late; We mourn, as a people, their pitiful fate, And hold the ground sacred, our care and our pride, And plant the flag over the place where they died. But the Nation is saved! They died not in vain; Our people are all reunited again. From ocean to ocean--the lakes to the sea-- One country, one people, one flag of the free! APPENDIX D. A MEMORIAL DAY MEDITATION. By Rev. H. H. Proctor, D.D., of Atlanta, Ga., in The Congregationalist of May 2, 1905.