was the severest trial. It was at this identical 5 spot that the unfortunate Andre was captured, and this has ever since been considered a haunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of the school-boy who has to pass it alone after dark. 7. As he approached the stream, his heart began to thump. He summoned up, however, all his resolution, gave his horse half a score of kicks in the ribs, and attempted to dash briskly across the bridge. But instead of starting forward, the perverse old animal made a lateral movement, and ran broadside against the fence. Ichabod, whose fears increased with the delay, jerked the reins on the other side, and kicked lustily with the contrary foot. It was all in vain. His steed started, it is true, but it was only to plunge to the opposite side of the road into a thicket of brambles and alder bushes. 8. The schoolmaster now bestowed both whip and heel upon the starveling ribs of old Gunpowder, who dashed forward, snuffling and snorting, but came to a stand just by the bridge, with a suddenness which had nearly sent his rider sprawling over his head. Just at this moment a plashy tramp by the side of the bridge caught the sensitive ear of Ichabod. In the dark shadow of the grove, on the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black, and towering. It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom, like some gigantic monster ready to spring upon the traveller. 9. The hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose upon his head with terror. What was to be done? To turn and fly was now too late. Summoning up, therefore, a show of courage, he demanded, in stammering accents, "Who are you?" He received no reply. He repeated his demand in a still more agitated voice. Still there was no answer. Once more he cudgelled the sides of the inflexible Gunpowder, and, shutting his eyes, broke forth with involuntary fervor into a psalm tune. Just then the shadowy object of alarm put itself in motion, and, with a scramble and a bound, stood at once in the middle of the road. 10. Though the night was dark and dismal, yet the form of the unknown might now, in some degree, be ascertained. He appeared to be a horseman of large dimensions, and mounted on a black horse of powerful frame. He made no offer of molestation or sociability, but kept aloof on one side of the road. 11. Ichabod, who had no relish for this strange midnight companion, now quickened his steed in hopes of leaving him behind. The stranger quickened his horse to an equal pace. Ichabod pulled up, and fell into a walk, thinking to lag behind. The other did the same. His heart began to sink within him. He endeavored to resume his psalın tune, but his parched tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, and he could not utter a stave. There was something in the moody and dogged silence of this pertinacious companion that was mysterious and appalling. It was soon fearfully accounted for. On mounting a rising ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck on perceiving that he was headless! But his horror was still more increased on observing that the head, which should have rested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the pommel of his saddle! His terror rose to desperation. He rained a shower of kicks and blows upon Gunpowder, hoping by a sudden movement to give his companion the slip. But the spectre started full jump with him. 12. Away then they dashed, through thick and thin, stones flying and sparks flashing at every bound. An opening in the trees now cheered him with the hopes that the church bridge was at hand. The wavering reflection of a silver star in the bosom of the brook told him that he was not mistaken. "If I can but reach that bridge," thought Ichabod, "I am safe." Just then he heard the black steed panting and blowing close behind him; he even fancied that he felt his hot breath. Another convulsive kick in the ribs, and old Gunpowder sprang upon the bridge; he thundered over the resounding planks; he gained the opposite side; and now Ichabod cast a look behind to see if his pursuer should vanish, according to rule, in a flash of fire and brimstone. Just then he saw the goblin rising in his stirrups, and in the very act of hurling his head at him. Ichabod endeavored to dodge the horrible missile, but too late. It encountered his cranium with a tremendous crash. He was tumbled headlong into the dust, and Gunpowder, the black steed, and the goblin rider passed by like a whirlwind. 13. The next morning the old horse was found without his saddle, and with the bridle under his feet, soberly cropping the grass at his master's gate, while near the bridge, beyond which, on the bank of a broad part of the brook, where the water ran deep and black, was found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a shattered pumpkin! [Edward Everett, a highly distinguished statesman, orator, and scholar, was born in Dorchester, Massachusetts, April 11, 1794, and died in Boston, universally honored and lamented, January 15, 1865. The following extract is a portion of an address at the presentation of colors to the Webster Regiment (Twelfth Massachusetts Volunteers), on Boston Common, July 19, 1861. Colonel Fletcher Webster, by whom the regiment was commanded, was the son of Daniel Webster. Captain Ebenezer Webster, father of the latter, had served with distinction both in the old French war and that of the Revolution. Major Edward Webster, a younger brother of Colonel Webster, died near the city of Mexico, January 23, 1848, in the service of his country, as major of the Massachusetts regiment of volunteers. Colonel Webster was killed, gallantly fighting at the head of his regiment, at the second battle of Bull Run, August 29, 1862.] 1. You are entering, sir, with your patriotic associates, upon an untried field of duty; but you are descended from a stock which, in more than one generation, teaches lessons of loyal devotion. Your grandfather, Captain Ebenezer Webster, a grave and thoughtful man, was one of those frontier rangers who bore the brunt of the Seven Years' War, in the wilderness which separated our then feeble settlements from Canada, and he stood with Stark at Bennington. Your noble father, in defence of the menaced 2 constitution of his country, led the mighty conflicts of the Senate, not less decisive than the conflicts of the field. Your only brother, following the impulses of a generous ambition, left his young life on the sickly plains of Mexico. On the family that bears these proud memories, nothing less worthy than duty well performed, danger bravely met, and the country honorably served, will ever, I am confident, be inscribed in connection with your name. 2. It is with no ordinary feelings of satisfaction that, on behalf of the patriotic ladies who take a friendly interest in the regiment, I now present you this beautiful banner, well assured that you and all in your command will regard it with grateful interest, as a token of their kind wishes and a pledge of their sympathy; and that you will look upon it with patriotic reverence, as the symbol of the Union, the emblem of the cause you defend, and the country you serve. 3. It bears upon its field as a motto, from that immortal speech of your father, the soul-stirring words, "Not a stripe erased or polluted, not a single star obscured." It is to maintain their high significance that the contest in which you are embarking is waged. Those emblems of our Union, I need not tell you, were first displayed in the camp of Washington, on yonder opposite shore, on the 1st of January, 1776. They have been borne by the armies of the United States against a foreign enemy on hard-fought fields, from the snows of Canada to the burning plains of Mexico. With our navies they have encircled the globe. They are now displayed in defence of the Union itself, in this most unrighteous and fratricidal 3 war; and, like the |