unt with steel and triggers,
And the two millions, daily, 'pay the shot.'

We owe them one for hemp, that, coil on coil,
Judge Lynch has tendered us, in noose and knot;
We've now a sort that's grown upon free soil,
That, properly paid out, soon 'pays the shot.'

There's a snug sum due on the Sumner books;
_That_ must be paid, each tittle and each jot;
A good accountant no mistake e'er brooks,
But _strikes his balance_ fair, and 'pays the shot.'

There's some old 'scores,' on tar-and-feather martyrs,
We've now the 'devil to pay,' the 'pitch all hot;'
In every Jack-tar, Jeff now finds a Tar-tar,
Bound to 'pitch in,' and bound to 'pay the shot.'

So, onward, mudsills! fanatics! vandals! vipers!
Wipe out this treason _now_, nor leave one blot;
When Dixie dances, Dixie must 'pay the piper;'
Enough for 'U. S.' that we must 'pay the shot.'

* * * * *

War stories and war songs are in vogue--for instance:

MY JOHNNY IS GONE FOR A SOLDIER.

The accomplished, fascinating, talented, and beautiful Miss H----, as
Jinkings calls her in his last Saratoga letter, has engaged her
affections to Mr. John G----, and they are to be married some time. In
the mean time, she has done all in her power to induce her lover to go
and fight the battles of his country; so far unsuccessfully, since Mr.
John G---- deems it his duty to stay at home and keep things steady,
especially billiards, which, as we all know, is an erratic game,
requiring great watching.

The other evening, Miss H----, while assisting at a sociable at Madame
V----'s, was asked to sing. Seated at the piano, to the horror of
expectant hearers of classic music, she began, with loudest voice, to
sing:

'I'll trace these gardins o'er and o'er,
A med-i-tating on atche swate flowir,
A thinking on each bewcheous hour;
Oh! Johnny is gone for a sol-di-er.'

She then put her handkerchief to her eyes, pretended to sob bitterly,
arose from the piano-stool, and sought an arm-chair.

Solicited by her confidential friend, Miss Belrose, to confide her
affliction, she only answered:

'Oh! my Johnny G----'s gone for a soldier--to play billiards with him!
And--and I know that that fast Lieutenant Gamble will keep him there for
hours and hours.'

* * * * *

Young gentlemen, this is the time for bullets and not for balls; for
cannons and not caroms; for r