ERIN'S FLAG.-FATHER RYAN.

Unroll Erin's flag! fling its folds to the breeze!
Let it float o'er the land, let it wave o'er the seas;
Lift it out of the dust-let it wave as of yore,

When its chiefs with their clans stood around it and swore
That never, no, never, while God gave them life,
And they had an arm and a sword for the strife,
That never, no, never, that banner would yield,
As long as the heart of a Celt was its shield;-
While the hand of a Celt had a weapon to wield,
And his last drop of blood was unshied on the field!

Lift it up! wave it high!-'tis as bright as of old;
Not a stain on its green, not a blot on its gold,

Though the woes and the wrongs of three hundred long years
Have drenched Erin's Sunburst with blood and with tears;
Though the clouds of oppression enshroud it in gloom,
And around it the thunders of tyranny boom,
Look aloft! look aloft! lo! the cloud's drifting by,
There's a gleam through the gloom, there's a light in the sky.
'Tis the Sunburst resplendent-far, flashing on high;
Erin's dark night is waning, her day-dawn is nigh.

Lift it up! lift it up! the old Banner of Green;
The blood of its sons has but brightened its sheen.
What though the tyrant has trampled it down,
Are its folds not emblazoned with deeds of renown?
What though for ages it droops in the dust,

Shall it droop thus forever? No! no! God is just!
Take it up! take it up from the tyrant's foul tread,
Lest he tear the Green Flag, we will snatch its last shred,
And beneath it we'll bleed as our forefathers bled,
And we'll vow by the dust in the graves of our dead;
And we'll swear by the blood that the Briton has shed,
And we'll vow by the wrecks which through Erin he spread,
And we'll swear by the thousands who famished, unfed,
Died down in the ditches-wild howling for bread;
And we'll vow by our heroes, whose spirits have fled,
And we'll swear by the bones in each coffinless bed
That we'll battle the Briton through danger and dread;
That we'll cling to the cause which we glory to wed
Till the gleam of our steel and the shock of our lead
Shall prove to the foe that we meant what we said-
That we'll lift up the Green, and we'll tear down the Red.

Lift up the Green Flag! oh! it wants to go home,
Full long has its lot been to wander and roam:

It has followed the fate of its sons o'er the world,
But its folds, like their hopes, are not faded nor furled;
Like a weary-winged bird, to the East and the West
It has flitted and fled, but it never shall rest,
Till, pluming its pinions, it sweeps o'er the main,
And speeds to the shore of its old home again,

Where its fetterless folds o'er each mountain and plain
Shall wave with a glory that never shall wane.

Take it up! take it up! bear it back from afar!
That banner must blaze 'mid the lightning of war;
Lay your hands on its folds, lift your eyes to the sky,
And swear that you'll bear it triumphant or die;
And shout to the clans scattered far o'er the earth,
To join in the march to the land of their birth;
And wherever the Exiles, 'neath heaven's broad dome,
Have been fated to suffer, to sorrow, and roam,
They'll bound on the sea, and away o'er the foam
They'll march to the music of "Home, sweet Home."

THE MAD ENGINEER.

This thrilling story is furnished by a Prussian railroad conductor.

My train left Dantzic in the morning generally about eight o'clock; but once a week we had to wait for the arrival of the steamer from Stockholm. It was the morning of the steamer's arrival that I came down from the hotel and found that my engineer had been so seriously injured that he could not perform his work. A railway carriage had run over him, and broken one of his legs. I went immediately to the engine-house to procure another engineer, for I knew there were three or four in reserve there, but I was disappointed. I inquired for Westphal, but was informed that he had gone to Sreegen to see his mother. Gondolpho had been sent to Konigsberg on the road. But where was Mayne? He had leave of absence for two days, and had gone no one knew whither.

I ran

Here was a fix. I heard the puffing of the steamer, and the passengers would be on hand in fifteen minutes, to the guards and asked them if they knew where there was

an engineer, but they did not. I then went to the firemen and asked them if any one of them felt competent to run the engine to Bromberg. No one dared to attempt it. The distance was nearly one hundred miles. What was to be

done?

The steamer stopped at the wharf, and those who were going on by rail came flocking to the station. They had yaten breakfast on board the boat, and were all ready for a fresh start. The baggage was checked and registered, the tickets bought, the different carriages assigned to the various classes of passengers, and the passengers themselves seated. The train was in readiness in the long station-house, and the engine was steaming and puffing away impatiently in the distant firing-house.

It was past nine o'clock.

"Come, why don't we start?" growled an old fat Swede, who had been watching me narrowly for the last fifteen minutes.

And upon this there was a general chorus of anxious inquiry, which soon settled to downright murmuring. At this juncture some one touched me on the elbow. I turned and saw a stranger by my side. I expected that he was going to remonstrate with me for my backwardness. In fact, I began to have strong temptations to pull off my uniform, for every anxious eye was fixed upon the glaring badges which marked me as the chief officer of the train.

However, this stranger was a middle-aged man, tall and stout, with a face of great energy and intelligence. His eye was black and brilliant,— ,-so brilliant that I could not for the life of me gaze steadily into it; and his lips, which were very thin, seemed more like polished marble than human flesh. His dress was black throughout, and not only set with exact nicety, but was scrupulously clean and neat.

"You want an engineer, I understand,” he said in a low, cautious tone, at the same time gazing quietly about him, as though he wanted no one to hear what he said.

"I do," I replied. "My train is all ready, and we have no engineer within twenty miles of this place."

"Well, sir, I am going to Bromberg; I must go, and I will run the engine for you."

"Ha!" I uttered, "are you an engineer?"

"I am, sir,—one of the oldest in the country,—and am now on my way to make arrangements for a great improvement I have invented for the application of steam to a locomotive. My name is Martin Kroller. If you wish, I will run as far as Bromberg; and I will show you running that is running."

Was I not fortunate? I determined to accept the man's offer at once, and so I told him. He received my answer with a nod and a smile. I went with him to the house, where we found the iron horse in charge of the fireman, and all ready for a start. Kroller got upon the platform, and I followed him. I had never seen a man betray such a peculiar aptness amid machinery as he did. He let on the steam in an instant, but yet with care and judgment, and he backed up to the baggage-carriage with the most exact nicety. I had seen enough to assure me that he was thoroughly acquainted with the business, and I felt composed once more. I gave my engine up to the new man, and then hastened away to the office. Word was passed for all the passengers to take their seats, and soon afterward I waved my hand to the engineer. There was a puff,—a groaning of the heavy axletrees,-a trembling of the building,—and the train was in motion. I leaped upon the platform of the guard-carriage, and in a few minutes more the station-house was far behind us.

In less than an hour we reached Dirsham, where we took up the passengers that had come on the Konigsberg railway. Here I went forward and asked Kroller how he liked the engine. He replied that he liked it very much.

"But," he added, with a strange sparkling of the eye, "wait until I get my improvement, and then you will see traveling. By the soul of the Virgin Mother, sir, I could run an engine of my construction to the moon in four-and-twenty hours.”

I smiled at what I thought his enthusiasm, and then went back to my station. As soon as the Konigsberg passengers were all on board, and their baggage-carriage attached, we started on again. Soon after, I went into the guard-carriage, and sat down. An early train from Konigsberg had been through two hours before reaching Bromberg, and