PRICE ONE CENT.
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husky, bu. strong in its every tone-'For-
warts, Brudern!"


He beheld the division Of Sullivan retreat
ing from the field, he saw the British yonder
stripping their coats from their backs in the
madness Of pursuit. He looked to the south
for Washington, who, with the reserve, nm
der Greene, was hurrying to the rescue, but
the American Chief was not in view.
Then Pulaski was convulsed with rage,
He rode madly upon the bay onets Of the
pursuing British, his sword gathering victim
after victim; even there, in front Of their
whole army, he flung his steed across the
path Of the retreating Americans, he besought
them, in his broken English, to turn, TO
make one more effort; he shouted in hoarse
tones that The day was not yet lost!


They did not understand his words, but
the tones in which he spoke thrilled their
blood.


That picture, too, standing out from the
clouds OF battle--a warrior, convulsed with
passion, covered with blood, leaning over
the neck Of his steed, while his eye seemed
turned to fire, and the muscles Of his bronzed
face writhed like serpents-that picture, Il
say, filed many heart with new courage,
nerved many wounded arm for the fight
again.


Those retreating men turned, they faced
the enemy again--like greyhounds at bay
before the wolf-.hey sprang upon the necks
Of the foe, and bore them down by one des-
perate charge.
II was at this moment that Washington
came rushing on once more to the battle.


Those people knew but little Of the Amer
icon General who calledhim the American
Fabius, that is General compounded Of
prudence and caution, with but a spark Of
enterprise. American Fabius? When you
will show me that the Roman Fabius had
heart of fire, nerves Of steel, a soul that
hungereth for the charge, an enterprise that
rushed from wilds like the Skippack upon
an army, like the British at Germantown,
or started from ice and snow, like that
which lay across the Delaware, upon hordes
like those Of the Hessians at Trenton--then
will lower Washington down into Fabius.
This comparison Of our heroes with the bar
barian demi-gods Of Rome only illustrates
the poverty Of the mind that makes it.
| Compare Brutus, the assassin Of his friend
with Washington, the saviour Of the people.
Cicero, the opponent Of Cataline, with Hem
ry, the champion Of a continent! What beg
gary Of thought Let US learn to be "a little
independent, TO know our great men, as they
were, not by comparison with the barbarian
heroes Of old Rome. af. i sa ~
| Letns learn that Washington was no mega
II was in the battle Of Brandywine that
this truth was made plain. He came rush
ing on to battle. He beheld his men hewn
down by the British, he heard them shrek
his name, and regardless Of his personal
safety, hernshed to join them,


Yes, it was in the dread havoc ofthat re-
treat that Washington, rushing forward into
j the very centre of the melee, entangled into
the enemy's troops on the top Of hill, south
west Of the meeting house, while Pulaski
was sweeping on with his grim smile, to
have one more bout with the eager red
/ coats. 3ss -
Washington was in terrible danger-his
troops were rushing to the south the Bri-
tish troops came sweeping up the hill and
around him, while Pulaski, on hill some
hundred yards distant, was scattering par
ting blessing among the hordes of Hano-
i yer. s3A


It was glorious prize, this Mister
i Washington, in the heart Of the British Ar
i my


Suddenly the Polander turned-his eye
caught the sight Of the iron grey and his ri
der. He turned to his troopers; his whis-
kered lip wreathed with grim smile-he
waved his sword-he pointed to the Iron
grey and its rider.


| There was but one moment;


With one impulse that iron band wheel
ed their war horses, and then dark body
solid and compact, was speeding over the
valley like thunderbolt, sped from the
heavens; three hundred sword rose glitter
ing in the faint glimpse Of sunlight-and in
1 front Of the avalanche, with his form rai-
sed to its full height, dark frown on his
brow, fierce smile on his lip, rode Pulaski
Like spirit reused into life by the thun-
derbolt he rode--his eyes were fixed upon
u the Iron grey and its rider-his band had
but one look, one will, one shout, for Wash
ington!


The British troops had encircled the
American leader--already they felt secure
Of their prey--already the head Of that ira
itor, Washington seemed to yawn above the
gates of London.


But that trembling Of the earth in the
valley, yonder-what meaas it?
I That terrible beating Of hoofs- what does
it portend?


i That omnious silence--and now tnat
shout--not Of words or of names, but that
half veil. half hurrah. which shrieks from