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f f i Lamar Fontaine—One of South's Famous Figures i_I ; - A SONG OF LAMAR FONTAINE. Ho. buglers! sound the charge! Ho, marshals! clear the way! For southland's knights, In all their f might. Ride Richmond's streets today! And every gate and doorway, • Is decked in color bright. In honor of our chieftain. And heroes of the fight. They come, each crowned in glory; They've won a deathless name, But renowned within that number, Is brave Lamar Fontaine; j Who, like Horatius Codes. In brave days of old. Feared neither flood nor foe, Within bis heart of gold. * His eagle eye and steady aim. Twice thirty foemen slew, While the pulsing minutehand, Once, ’round the dial flew; And Lee and “Stonewall’’ Jackson Stood gazing in surprise. At the calm and valiant scout, "Who‘thus the foe defies. He spared not blood nor muscle, His duty was his pride, ’Til many gory wounds Bedewed his gallant side. On! On! through blood and carnage, He'll ever press his way, And will continue 'Til southland wins the day. Ho! buglers, sound a louder note. Ho! marshals, lead the way! For southland’s knight in all their might. Ride Richmond's streets today. But in the serried ranks Of that long glittering train. Breathes none more brave, more true Than Scout Lamar Fontaine! From an old clipping from the Rich mond Whig, published August, 1862. Day by day the ranks of the veterans of the sixties, those heroes who bore ,the brunt of the greatest crisis that ever faced the American republic, arc rapidly diminishing. A few years—a generation, perhaps, and none will remain to recount in personal reminiscence the stirring deeds the trials and sufferings of 60 years ago, when the nation was torn asunder by four years of civil strife. Then history alone must enkindle within the breasts of the rising gen eration that sectional pride and na fional patrltoism that ts horn in mo love and admiration of the heroes of that memorable struggle; for then none will there b« to draw aside tlie dark curtain of forgetfulness and to live over again by the firesides of American homes both in th<e North and in the South the stirring events of that mo mentous conflict, and none will be left to picture from th<6 indelible imprints of memory the calm fearlessness of Lee, the impetuous chivalry of Stuart, the indomitable determination of Grant, the patient suffering of Lin coln, and the sterling character and military genius of Stonewall Jackson. Standing among the remnants of his fellow soldiers of 50 years ago, a hearty link in the feeble chain of veterans that binds the past to the present, is Major Lamar Fontaine, a recent visitor to Bir mingham. Veteran of Three Wars A yeteran of three wars, a scout under Stonewall Jackson, a soldier of fortune Jn foreign lands, there is probably no more picturesque figure in the nation today than Lamar Fontaine. Poet, philo sopher and soldier, since early childhood, when clad only in the garb of nature, he roamed the prairies of Texas as the adopted son of an Indian chief and tlie playmate of the since famous Geronimo, his life has been one of endless adven ture. During his service through three wars he was wounded 67 times. Eleven of these time bullets passed through his lungs, and on 20 occasions he has been pronounced mortally wounded by army physicians. From the tribal battles with the Indians on the plains of Texas to the snow-covered fields of Russia during the Crimean war, he has faced the shrap nel of the enemy and endured all the heroes of the captive and prisoner. AncL now, though the slender figure is bent with an age of service and the hand whose steadiness waB a marvel to sharpshooters of two generations has lost its firmness, the cool grey eyes retain their piercing glance, and the firm, clear cut ligaments are unweakened by the wrinkles that overshadow them. Marguis of Lothian’s Tribute The MarqulB of Lothian. Lord of the Lothians and a Scottish commander dur ing the Crimean war, in his work on the Confederate session says of Major Fon taine: “A man of remarkable experience is I^amar Fontaine, a man whose life reads like the pages from some enchanted ro mance. Front his birth in a tent on Laberdie prairie in what is now known as Washington county, Texas, his being the first male birth in the Stephen A. Austin colony of the Brazos river, and at the time of his advent into this world there was not a white settlement between bis birthplace westward to the shores of the Pacific ocean; only a boundless wilderness. From that day he has been p soldier of strange fortune, and his life almost without parallel In the annals of recorded history', From the day when he was three years old his school train ing was at the hands of an old Polish exile, a German Baron by birth, who was banished from the continent of Europe tor the part he had played in the Polish i ebeflion. His preceptor trained him in all the manly arts of fencing, boxing, wrestling, in the broard sword exercise, horseback riding, and in rifle and pistol shooting until he was master of them all. The wild, the real nomadic tent life of these early colonists on the boundless, unln habitated prairie of Texas, suited the spirit, the blood of his favored boy and gave him a vigor, a power of endurance that, fitted him yell for the life that lay before him. At this early period he became the best shot in the colony and the most daring rider and expert horse man and was the envy of his less favored companions. Whore Austin Now Stands A few weeks after the colony moved to where the city of Austin now stands Ea rner Fontaine was captured by a roving band of Camancbe Indians and for near ly five years he was a captive of this tribe, roaming and bunting with them from the valley of the Rio Grande on the south to the. Black Hill region of the Dakotas on the north, following the buf falo in their annual migrations. This life among the Indians gave him added en durance1, vigor and wonderful eyesight'. For four years not a vestige of a gar ment did lie wear except moccasins, mits. and ear protectors. This exercise made his skin as impervious to the plural ac tion of the climate as was his face. “On the dividing line between Arizona and Mexico, on what is now known as the Zuni plateau, on the headquarters of the Gila river that flows into the Gulf of California, he made his way across a trackless w’aste to the city of Austin, where he rejoined bis own people.” Enlisted in American Navy This much of the early life of this sol dier of fortune served only to render him better fitted for the more strenuous activities that lay beyond. A few years after bis escape from the Indians, and just prior to the beginning: of the war with Mexico, he enlisted in the American navy. It was during this struggle that lie received his first baptism of fire when he took part in the battle of Vera Cruz. After the Mexican war he remained in the navy until shortly after the out break of the Crimean war. The vessel upon which Fontaine was serving hap pened to be in the Black sea shortly after this struggle began. He was un able to resist the call of adventure that lay before him in the camps of the Rus sians and British, and, taking advantage of his expiring term of service, he left the navy and enlisted as a private sol dier in the Russian army. This was In 1849. As a member of Prince Kioskl's cos sacks, which composed the bodyguard of Prince GortschyhofT, he saw considerable service on the plains of Russia, taking part in the siege of Sebastopol. It was after this battle that Major Fontaine as a representative of the Russian govern ment treated with the English authorities in an unsuccessful attempt to end the war. Here he met the Marquis of Leth* ian who afterward became his stauch friend. Leaves for Holy Land Leaving the Russian service in 1855, he went to Egypt, where until 1859 he sur veyed in the Holy land. When first the rumors of the secession of the southern states reached him, he left for America, and enlisted in the ranks of the Confederates as a private soldier. It was during this struggle that Major Fontaine first came into prominence. His early training among the Indians and his experience in the Russian service, made him invaluable both as a scout and as a driller of recruits. Stonewall Jackson soon appointed him to a position on bis staff and made him scout of hi» divisi?n. His Unert-ing Markmanship With Jackson he saw service at the first battle of ilanassas and during the famous Shenandoah valley campaign. It was during these engagements that his unerring marksmanship gained him the attention of the whole army. As a sharp shooter, ills exploits were little leSs than marvelous. At Waterloo bridge. In Far quar county. Virginia, In 1862. Just prior HIRO OF THREE WARS MAJOR LAMAR FONTAINE Visitor to Birmingham Whose Life Story is so Full of Romance as to Moke Him One of South's Most Notable Characters—rPhoto by Bert G. CovelL \ V BY CHAS. W. GREER to the, second battle of Manassas, Major Fontaine, in the presence of Generals L*ee and Jackson and nine federal officers, prisoners at the time, shot down 60 fed eral soldiers in sixty minutes, with a breechloading: Whitworth rifle. The story of this remarkable feat found its way into the federal lines through the prisoners who had witnessed it. Hear ing of the feat the marquis of Lothian, who was In this country at the time, made his way to the Confederate lines and found its truth in the testimony of those who had witnessed it. and in his, “The Confederate Secession,*’ he speaks of it as one of the most remarkable in stances in the history of civilized war. With Jackson When Killed Just before the second day’s battle of Chaneellorsville, Major Fontaine was rid ing in company with Stonewall Jackson at the time when that noted Confederate general was shot down by his own troojjs, v.ho mistook his party for that of the enemy. Wounded in the same volley, the last glimpse that Major ^Fontaine ever had of the general whom he had long loved and followed, was when the strick en general was borne from the field upon a stretcher. Major Fontaine was de clared mortally wounded' by the army physician, having been shot through the right lung, but within two months he was again in the Confederate ranks. On May 12, 18*54, in the fearful charge to recover the Confederate breastworks at "Bloody Angle,’' at Spottsyl vania courthouse. Major Fontaine w'as shot down and left upon the field for dead. Soon thereafter federal soldiers, finding him only wounded, took him prisoner. From May until August he was con fined in a federal prison in Philadelphia, where in a dark and filthy cell, and fed upon a meagre quantity of revolting sub stances. be suffered horrors with which these of the battlefield failed to com pare. When taken from this cell, he w'as .transferred to a prison ship, en route to New' Orleans. On this trip, in company with *500 Confederate prisoners, after ward known as the "immortal fiOO," Major Fontaine was forced to undergo another season of prison hoi*ror. Spirit Never Broken Never, however, was the spirit of the man broken. On one occasion, Captain Bell, who had charge of the Confederate prisoners at that time, wanted to ex change Major Fontaine for a federal major, who was then a captive in the Confederate lines. Major Fontaine was sent to confer with General Hardee, who was in charge of the Confederate works around Charleston, S. C.. at the time, re garding the exchange. General Hardee, who was a personal friend of Major Fontaine, was anxious to effect the ex change. and sent for the federal captive to arrange for conveying him to the fed eral lines. But the whole proceedings were marred when Major Fontaine met the man tor whom1 he was to be exchanged. The federal officer, so it happened, was not up to Major Fontaine’s standard of a soldier. His cowardice had been the joke of his captors for some time. He fawned upon his captors, ready to accept any terms or to take any oath prescribed to get his release. Major Fontaine balked. He would not be exchanged for such a specimen, he told General Hardee, and was sent back to the federal prison. Here foe remained several months longer, until an agreeable exchange could he effected. Last Wound of the War Just prior to the surrender of Bee at Appomatoac, Major Fontaine received his last wound of the war, and one that ren dered him wholly unfit for service; and when again he was ready to take the field, the war was over, and th^ cause for which he had spilled so much of his heart’s blood was lost forever. Immediately after the war Major Fon taine left America for Brazil, where he spent some time as a teacher in a uni versity. Afterwards he returned to his native land, his thirst for adventure quenched, and settled down to a quiet life in the Mississippi valley. And there he now lives, content to live in the past and enpoy the memories of ihe days when his life's blood coursed races through his veins, and when the love for adventure mastered his soul. He is an old man now, but hale and hearty, and lives a quiet reminder of memorable days that are passed. His Famous Poem As a poet, Major Fontaine’s most noted work, “All Quiet Along the Potomac,” has been a subject of much comment since Its appearance in 1861. Several have claimed the authorship of the piece, and to Miss Ethlyn Biers, it has been gen erally credited. The poem, typical of the spirit of the days in which »t was written, has been preserved, not because of its poetic or structural value, but for its simple note of appeal to those who still hold dear the memory of the heroes who lost their lives in the great struggle be tween the states. In supporting his claim to the author ship of the piece, Major Fontaine has in his possession what is claimed to be the first print of the poem as it came from the press of Julian A. Selby of Co lumbia, S. C., in October, 1861. This old document, a facirnile of the title page of which* appears on this page, dedicates rtie poem to the unknown deod of the “present” revolution, and gives as its author Umar Fontaine. In further sup porting his claim, Major Fontaine has In his possession a letter from T. It. Heald, written in 1897, who commenting upon the discussion as to the authorship of the poem, says in part: “I was a sergeant in the Massachu setts regiment, and stationed at Pool ville, Maryland, in October, 1861. I was frequently on picket duty.along the Po tomac river, near the hanks of Edward's ferry, where w’e afterward recrossed with part of our forces, after the battle of Ball’s bluff. During the time I was on picket, I remember that one night we received from one of the Confederate pickets, written or partly written. “All Quiet Along the Potomac Tonight.'* and in some way (I have forgotten just how T received this information) I was told that it was written by some one con nected with the Mississippi regiment then stationed near Leesburg, by the name of Fontaine. My Impression is that when we first received tile poem it was headed, "All Quiet Along the Potomac,’’ and I think you will find that the Boston Her ald first printed those lines, but I know that they were received in the manner mentioned by me on picket duty in Octo ber, and 1 have frequently spoken of the matter and stated that I remembered that the name of the writer was Fontaine, in the book stores at Charleston, S. C„ you will find a publication entitled "Mar ginelln," and I think has letters from that place at that time making mention ot it.’’ Structure Indicates Authorship The very structure of the poem, says Major Fontaine, indicates that it is from • the pen of a Confederate or Confederate sympathizer, in supporting this conten tion, Major Fontaine brings forward the argument that during the early days of the war, the federal soldiers adopted the Scott tactics of drilling, while the Con federates. were drilled according to the Hardee system. The position of the picket while on duty, according to the Scott tactics, was pretty much the same as the “port arms" now used. In other words, the federal picket paced his beat with his gun sup ported in the hollow of his elbow with his left arm folded over lit and upon his side. The right hand vam* kept over the lock of the gun, with the forefinger on the trigger, while the thumb rested upon the hammer of the gun. With one movement he had his gun in position for tiring or charging with his bayonet, while with the same movement, he cocked the gun with his thumb. The Confederate, drilled by the Hardee tactics, paced his beat with Ills gun in the hollow of his left elbow, but with the gun drawn up perpendicular to his side. His right arm was free, and was carried at the side. Thus it was neces sary for him to make three distinct move ments when challenging, before ills gun was# ready for action. Method Determines Authorship Now in claiming that these two meth ods of drilling are not without Importance in determining the fact that the poem was written by one sympathizing with the Confederate cause, and therefore making the Confederate picket the hero of the lines, Major Fontaine quotes the following lines: "Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes, He dashes off tears that are welling; And gathers his gun up close to his breast, As if to keep down the heart's swell ing.” The position alluded to is exactly in keeping with one that might have been taken by the Confederate picket. With Ms gun pressed against his heart by his left hand, his right arm was free to brush away the welling tears, still he would retain the position required while on picket duty. On the other hand the federal picket would have to free his right arm. sup port his gun entirely with his left to con Kaiser Lavish With His Honors BY BASIL SANDWYCH BERLIN, March 22.—(Special)—Kai ser Wilhelm suffers from head ache. and the hair of Excellence von Valentini, chief of his secret civil cabinet. Is turning white. It is all over the jubilee, which comes around next June, when Kaiser Wilhelm will be a quarter-of-a-century emperor. The fact is hundreds of deserving—and undeserv ing-persons want orders, decorations, ti tles and distinctions, while hundreds of other persons equally deserving—and un deserving—think that no orders, decora tions, titles or distinctions should be giv en at all. They say that lavish Wilhelm has already given enough, and that he depreciates badly their value by giving more. Kaiser Wilhelm’s civil cabinet and the kingly Prussian college of heralds are up to their necks in this momentous prob lem, and neither gets any further. ^Vil helm II is democratic, and he shows this <1 by levelling up. by trying to give every German something that will make him feel better than everyone else. His pres ent highly desirable aim is to gUfe titled nobility to some of the great men who are spreading German finance, commerce and cigars all over the earth. In this he does not succeed. He gives them the unnoble rank of "Kommerzienrat,” which is "commercial councillor,’' and means that the recipients will be laughed at In the "Lustlge Blatter." He gives them more rarely the particle of nobility, "von." That makes them equivalent to Frenchmen who put. "de" before their names, and to untitled English squires. There arc a few Mendelssohns. Schwa bachs. Priedlander-Fuld's, and other financial magnates who have got thus high. But 10 gove them a noble title is beyond Wilhelm s power. And this in tensely offends the German merchant millionaire, who in England or Austria would have the rank of baronet, peer or baron. It is known that Wilhelm does not ap prove of this state of affairs. He does not see why there should not be as easily a Count Mendelssohn in Germany as there was a Baron Hirsch in Austria. But the heralds office is higher than Kaiser Wilhelm. Kaiser Wilhelm, in IDOn, proposed that men who had ren dered great services to Germany in busi ness spheres should have the possibility to rise to the rank of baron (Freiherr), or count (graf). His civil cabinet elab orated the spheres. But there the her alds’ office stepped in, and made trouble. It pointed out politely that it exists not by virtue of royal favor, but as repre sentatives of the nobility, titled and un titled. of Prussia. And it declared to Kaiser Wilhelm that while he has a. right to choose what individuals .he will give titles to, lie lias no right to bring in a new class of men without consulting the existing nobility. The heralds office theory, which is put forward In a pamphlet by Herr Zim mermann, is that the titled nobility should be increased only from the ranks ot the untitled nobility. A man already “von” might he made a baron, count or prince, but a mere business man without the “von’’ had no claims. The heralds’ office here raises the contention of “the historical pact/’ This pact, it says, is an understanding of past monarchs with the titled Prussian nobility that the nobility were members of a limited class which should be increased only slowly and judi ciously. If this rule is violated every new baron or count decreases the value of existing titles. “if the king of Prus sia makes titles without end. then the old titled Prussian nobility will be tempt ed ^to repudiate their own titles. With merchant and financial counts and even princes, it will be a great distinction not to have a title. Other German classes that have any distinction are in the same nervous ap piehension as is the titled nobility. If Kaiser Wllhflm presents some palace door-opener twith the fifth class of the HOhenzoUem house order, then all who already hava that fifth class growl that KAISER’S JUBILEE PHOTOGRAPH Striking New Likeness of the German Ruler Who Is Suffering From Severe Headaches Caused by Trying to Satisfy Everybody in Ger many in the Matter of Titles. orders are becoming common and losing their worth. The same feeling actuates Germany's numerous commercial couni cillors. A “commercial councillor” is a rich manufacturer, storekeeper, or finan cier, wiio in theory has rendered some great service to the empire’s economic interests. In reality, he is a man who has enriched himself, and perhaps given some fraction of ids wealth to charity, science or art. The competition for the post of commercial councillor is keen. It is equalled only by the competition among commercial councillors for the higher title of privy commercial coun cillor. And whenever Kaiser Wilhelm has a modest birthday, jubilee or New Year celebration, all the rich business men look out f»»r these titles, and many, too many, get them. Endowing a local museum, or rescuing a charity from poverty is a good way,to becorrte a commercial councillor. It is a small reward compared with the reward given in other countries where the charit able man gets a hereditary title. But It is worth having. And whenever the title-strewing time is near, the news papers teem with “Herr Schuppe s” bene ficence and with “Herr SkuppeV’ newly awakened interest in chemical science. And 1913 is a jubilee, title-strewing year. That explains why the “Frankfurter Zei tung” statistician says that In 1912 thera were twice the number of normal charit able donations. “Commercial councillor” has now be come bo common that it has lost its mil lionalfe-hinting value. Herr Zimmerman, the expert, says that “the average wealth of the man thus honored by the kaiser has declined by nearly -10 per cent during the last 15 years.” This fact has created "an aristocracy and a plebeian class' among the commercial councillors. “Com mercial councillor A. (made in 1897) looks down on commercial councillor B. (made In 1911), not because B. is a junior,, but because he is probably a poorer man. Despite the plethora of distinctions Kaiser Wilhelm is about to create a one. It will be an order for women. At present, Wilhelm has the Woman's order of Louise and the service cross for women and spinsters. The service cross has go* so common that jokes about it are ma<]e on the stage of the Metropole theatre. The new order will probably be for girls and women who have distinguished them selves in nursing and social work. And everyone who wants it will get it, until the rival order-holders begin to growl that orders are no longer a dis tinction. That makes trouble for Kaiser Wilhelm. On the other hand, if he gives no new distinctions, there will he more trouble, because the distinctions have be come so common that every man—or woman—feels injured if left without one. Altogether Kaiser Wilhelm and bis secret civil cabinet are up against a difficult problem, and It is no wonder that they have headaches, and that their hair turns white. form with the position described in the poem. It is Major Fontaine’s contention that during those days of antagonism, no fed eral sympathizer would have made a hero of the Confederate picket, while on the other hand, a Confederate sympathizer would choose a picket of his own people to whom to dedicate verse. Miss Biers was a native of Boston, and claimed that the poem first appeared in Harper s Weekly In November, 1861. Ma jor Fontaine claims that he wrote the poem during the fall of 1861, and that it was printed in Charleston in October of that year. Conditions Under Which He Wrote It In telling of the conditions under which he wrote the poem and the events which prompted its writing, Major Fontaine gives a most graphic description of the conditions surrounding the soldier’s life in 1861 when the armies of the north and south lay confronting each other along the shores of the Potomac. On the night previous to the writing of the poem, Major Fontaine in company with a man by the name of Moore was assigned a beat along the Confederate shore of the riv^r. Moore had recently received a letter from his young wife, who with the children at home, was aw'aiting with feverish impatience the news from the front, and praying for the safekeeping of the young husband who had sacrificed the pleasures of his home and family for the principles he believed to be right. He was in the act of reading the letter to Fontaine when they were accosted by a picket from across the river and asked if they would like to exchange papers, istajor Fontaine, then a private, waded out to the middle of the river and the exchange was effected. While converts ing with his foeman, Fontaine was in vited to take supper' with a small federal detachment which was stationed nearby, and putting on a federal overcoat, he ac cepted. During the course of the evening the federal lieutenant who was in charge of the small detachment, spoke of the unnecessary loss of life that was caused by the guerrila warfare between the pickets of the two armies, which lie claimed was without^ause and which gained nothing for either side. He stated that if Fontaine would see to it that the Confederates put a stop to the promiscu ous firing at that point that he w^ould see to it that his m£n would do so. Signed an Agreement Fontaine agreed and the two men drew up and signed a contract to this effect. T’pon returning to his camp, Fontaine made known the agreement to the Con federate pickets at that point, and these readily acquiesced in carrying It out. That night, not fearing a chance shot from the opposite lines, Fontajne built a fire near the termination of His beat— a luxury which he had feared to enjoy for some months—and paced back and forth in full view of the fire. Toward early morning, he wakened Moore to re lieve him, but scarcely had his com panion arisen from his bed In the sha dows and approached the firelight, when a shot rang out from across the river, and the young Confederate pitched for ward upon the ground, pierced through the temple by a federal bullet. “T ran at once to him,'’ said Major Fontaine in describing the Incident, “and saw a gush of blood pour from his scull, and his brains scattered upon a paper upon which he had fallen. Almost paralyzed by the tragedy that had over taken my young companion, I sat contem plating the scene in a sort of dazed stupor. T felt almost. like a murderer for accepting the agreement of the fed eral lieutenant and thus exposing Moore to the fire of the enemy by building the campfire. Then—for I was hotblooded then, and saw hut one side of the great question which had disrupted a nation—I knelt by my companion and fervently prayed to the God who held the universe in the hollow of his hand, to give me the power to wreak revenge upon my hated enemy. “I prayed for a markmanship that would make my name one to be feared in the camp of the federate. Gladly, I thought, would I be willing to lay beside him, but not until after I had lived to keep the memory of his death before me to spur me on to a service that might add its mite in winning the cause for which my people were struggling. Gently Raised Companion “Gently I raised my dead oompanian from the position in which he had fallen, and upon the paper beneath his head, clotted with the blood that so recently coursed his veins, I read in bold type across .the page: ‘All quiet along the Po tomac.’ / “The bitter irony of the words burned into ray brain as I clasped the body of my dead companion to my bosom ami thought of the young wife and children back in Virginia who were praying for the safety of their dear one upon the field of battle. 1 seized the paper, and there before the light of the campfire and with the body of the dead soldier at my side, 1 dashed off the first few verses of the poem: ‘All Quiet Along the Poto mac.’ “Later these were added to, and f dis tributed copies of them to Confederate pickets along our lines. It was not until some time afterward that I had the first prints of the poem made, and this was at Charleston, S. C. The first copy of the poem that came from the Washington hand press at Charleston, I have given to you.” “All Quiet Along the Potomac Tonight” ranks with “The Battle Hymn of the Re public” and “Maryland, My Maryland,” as three of the greatest of civil war poems The poem as it appeared from the first print at Charleston, follows: “All is quiet along the Potomac, to night,” Except here and there a stray picket, Is shot as he walks on his beat to and fro w • By a rifleman hid in the thicket. ’Tia nothing; a private or two now and then Will not count in the news of the battle; Not an officer killed; only one of the men, Moaning out alone the death rattle. “All quiet along the Potomac tonight,” Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming; And their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon And the light of their camp fires are gleaming. A tremulous sigh as a gentle night wind Through the forest leaves softly is creeping; While the stars up above with their glittering eyes Keep guard over the army while sleeping. There’s only the sound of the lone sen try’s tread, * As he tramps from the rock to the fountain; And he thinks of the two in the low trundle bed, Far away in the cot on the mountain. His musket falls slack—his face dark and grim. Grows gentle with memories tender; As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep, And their mother—may heaven de fend her. The moon seems to shine as brightly then— That night when the love yet un spoken ; Leaped up to Ills lips, W'hen low' mur mur vows Were pledged to be ever unbrokem. Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his 65*cs. t He dashes off tears that are welling: And gathers his gun close up to his breast. As If to keep down the heart swell ing. He passed the fountain, the blasted pine tree. His footsteps are lagging and weary; Yet. onward he goes thro* the broad belt of light. Towards the shades of the forest so dreary. Hark! Was It*the night wind rustled the leaves? Was it moonlight so wondrously flashing? Jt looked like a rifle! Ha! Mary, good bye! And his life-blood was ebbing and plashing. “All quiet along the Potomac tonight.” No sound save the rush of the river. While soft falls the dew on the facf of the dead. The picket’s off duty forever. Mining in Pennsylvania From the Philadelphia Press. Tlie report issued by the state de partment of mines is a gratifying rec ord, both as relating to the prosperity of the Pennsylvania mining industries and the improved conditions of labor in the bituminous and anthracite coal fields. The statistics published for the year past show that the coal produc tion in this state amounted to one-half of the total for the entire country. The unprecedented output for 1912. notwithstanding the halt made during the deadlock in the anthracite section, indicates an excess of 11.414,381 tons over the high figures reached in 1907. The summarized estimate of soft and hard coal combined ani&untH to 245, 231,355 tons—a significant Index of the flourishing business activities throughout the United States. Along with industrial progress, a noteworthy feature of the report is the decided falling off In the number of accidents. These have* been reduced 15 per cent in the Pennsylvania mining re gion. This happy issue Chief Roderick, attributes to the beneficial operations of the bituminous mine code of 1911. For this reason lie advocates the enact ment of the recommendations still un der advisement of the commission ap pointed in 1911 by legislature. It is gratifying to note that the miners are being effectually protected and the perils of a dangerous vocation sensibly lessened so far as safety ap pliances and supervision can avail. That this is largely due to the promptitude and ready co-operation of the mine owners in complying with the law is i commendable phase of the present for tunate conditions. QUIET ALONG THI POTOMAC TITLE PAGE OF FAMOUS SON|H rom Copy of First Edition. Major Fontaine Sub^K Authorship of the Words H / m