Well now, if that is not funny. There is Noah's dove, with the olive branch in her mouth, and a fashionable stove-pipe hat on. I didn't know that they were pestered with such ugly fashions, before the flood. Then, there are ever so many many hands, without arms to them, and eyes without heads to put them in. And here, in the upper corner, is a poor fellow trying to lie down on a hard bed, with no blanket to cover him, and the thermometer at ten degrees below 0. That means freezing, no doubt, as he would not lie there, unless he means to freeze. Right under him seems to be a baggage car, with closed doors, riding without wheels on "are." left, and so could not stop to spell haps he was ing dog growling behind him, stands quietly looking over the moon, at the owl, as if he wouldn't mind eating him. Funny doings they are having down in that left corner. A vain woman shutting the door against a vain man, and two frantic girls screaming "no assistance," with a barrel of beer on tap-and, as for this other corner, let him describe it who can. ful on, who with an The Balloon Travels Of Robert Merry and his Young Friends, over various countries in Europe. Edited by Peter Parley. This is the title of a beautiful book, recently published by DERBY & JACKSON, New York, which is bound to make a great stir among all the young people of America. The readers of the Museum have already formed an acquaintance with a considerable part of the work, and have become deeply interested in its progress. The story commenced on the 89th page of the 22d volume, being the second part of the year 1851. The Frontispiece to the present number represents the party just setting out: three of the young folks already seated in the car, and two more, with Uncle Merry, just about to enter. Boys, girls, wouldn't you like to be there? Well, you shall all go the next time. We'll have a train of Balloons, and Hiram Hatchet shall go ahead, to clear the track. The following is an extract from the closing chapter: AURA. It is so wonderful to look down upon the town, and see the lights here and there, while all around is an abyss of darkness. And then to look at the camp, and see the watch-fires scattered over the plain, for miles, like stars of flame, in a sea of nightis most striking. James. You are quite poetical, Laura. Merry. No poetry can come up to the actual scene. Laura. And I can't but think, Mr. Merry, of the poor fellows here, each of whom has a home and friends-father, mother, brothers, sisters, living in their own country. Here they have hard fare, often in some miserable tent upon the bare ground: and they are liable, at any moment, to be called to battle in which they may lose their lives—or, what is worse, may be wounded and rendered cripples for life. Oh it makes me sick at heart to think of it! Merry. This is a very natural train of thought, Laura, especially when looking down, as we do, upon the actual scene of warfare. Laura. It reminds me strongly of the touching poem of Campbell-the "Soldier's Dream." Ellen. Oh I remember-it is most beautiful; but there is something more spirit-stirring in the "Battle of Hohenlinden," by the same poet : On Linden when the sun was low, But Linden saw another sight, By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, a battle, through some mistake, an order from Lord Raglan, the commander of the British army, came to Lord Lucan, the captain of the Light Brigade,—a portion of the British cavalry,-to advance and attack the enemy. Lord Lucan saw that the movement was like rushing into the jaws of death, with all his brave followers; but his heart told him that the duty of a soldier was to obey, and so, regardless of danger, he drew his sword, gave the command, and with his six hundred men, flew across the field like so many heroes, in the very face of the entire Russian army. The scene is thus described by Tenny son: Half a league, half a league, Charge! was the captain's cry- Cannon to right of them- Flashed all their sabres bare- |