rling! they draw me thus to thee.

They kiss thy picture on my heart;
Love of my life! no more we part.

The rushing waters still my breath:
Oh! have we dared to fear thee, Death?

EBENEZER STIBBS died, near Lewisburg, O., a martyr to his country's
cause, October 14th, 1862, in the seventy-first year of his age. His
death was a violent one, though he fell not upon the field of strife;
for many of the soldiers of our country have never been enrolled, never
promoted, never praised for their gallantry, but, far away from the
tented field, in their lonely homes, are going down to their graves
without sound of drum or salute of musket, unnoticed and unknown.

And this brave old man was one of them. Residing for a number of years
on a farm with his son, he had long been excused, on account of the
infirmities of age, from active service on the farm, and even from the
numerous little tasks about the house and barn involved in the care of
the family and the stock. His son was drafted, and now, 'who shall look
after things about the place?' 'Go,' said the brave old hero, 'and serve
your country, and I'll attend to matters here.'

He set about the work in good heart, and seemed likely to succeed
admirably; but one day, while pushing some hay over the edge of the mow,
he lost his balance, plunged forward, falling a distance of some ten or
twelve feet, and, striking his head on the hard threshing floor, was so
stunned as to become entirely insensible. A member of the household soon
after entered the barn and found him bleeding and helpless. Medical aid
was immediately summoned, but he survived his injuries only a couple of
hours, and died without speaking a word. When this dreadful war shall
have ended, and tall white columns shall spring up like an alabaster
forest all over the land, to commemorate the glories of the departed
brave, let one, at least, of the noble shafts, without legend or
inscription, stand as the representative of those who have fallen in
obscurity, like the soldiers cut off in the forest, unnoticed and
unknown.

* * * * *

A Buckeye correspondent sends us the following, which is too good to
keep:

THE DEACON AND HIS SON.

Some years agone, old Deacon S---- kept a corner grocery in the village
of B----. Deacon S---- had a son, who officiated in said grocery. Deacon
S---- professed to be very pious--so did Deacon S.'s son.

Whether the Deacon and his son we