Several times this correspondent was sent up in his balloon, and held by an assistant with the help of a long rope far above houses, and even hills, so that he could take photographs on his huge lens of the general view of a battle, while he himself was either too far away or too unimportant at the moment to the combatants to tempt them to fire upon him. In this way he succeeded in securing some astonishing views. They were, of course, very far removed from the scene of action, too far to give much of the small details, but they presented a bird's-eye view of the whole battle, which proved of great interest. Occasionally, because of a sudden movement of the balloon, he "took" the sky or a distant landscape instead of the raging battle beneath him, but these little mistakes were insignificant when on being hauled down, he discovered two or three views that showed charges of cavalry here, repulses of infantry there, and smoke and strife, bursting shells and burning houses, everywhere.
Sometimes the photographer would go up in his camera-balloon without being held to the earth by a rope, and then he might drift with the wind over the battle-field, or quietly drift away without getting a chance to "shoot." As a rule, however, calculations were pretty well made before the rope was dropped, and then the balloon was allowed to float where it would, with the comparative certainty that it would pass over, or nearly over, the scene of action.
Here is a chance for photographers who want to take new scenes and original things with their cameras. The earth at a few hundred feet distance would look like a big bowl covered with many little roofs, laced with white roads, along which funny little animals would be seen crawling along at a snail's pace.
OUR FLAG.
Fling it from mast and steeple,
Symbol o'er land and sea,
Of the life of a happy people,
Gallant and strong and free.
Proudly we view its colors,
Flag of the brave and true,
With the clustered stars and the steadfast bars,
The red, the white, and the blue.
Flag of the fearless-hearted,
Flag of the broken chain,
Flag in a day-dawn started,
Never to pale or wane.
Dearly we prize its colors,
With the heaven light breaking through,
The clustered stars and the steadfast bars,
The red, the white, and the blue.
Flag of the sturdy fathers,
Flag of the loyal sons,
Beneath its folds it gathers
Earth's best and noblest ones.
Boldly we wave its colors,
Our veins are thrilled anew;
By the steadfast bars, the clustered stars,
The red, the white, and the blue.
Margaret E. Sangster.
A wise old doctor, for the benefit of his health, travelled around the country in a caravan, in which he lived, stopping for short periods at the larger towns. He had a young lad for an assistant, who was more or less quick and intelligent, but rather inclined to jump at conclusions. The doctor taught him a little medicine whenever he could spare the time, and he learned considerable, but diagnosis were to him still a mystery, especially in some cases, when the wise old doctor had used his eyes to detect the source of the illness.
They were staying for a few days in the town of B——, and the doctor had been in some demand, having at a previous visit secured a reputation by some apparently marvellous cures. His young assistant accompanied him on one occasion, when the doctor had pronounced the patient sick from eating too many oysters. This puzzled the lad, and when they left the house he asked his master how he knew the patient had been eating oysters. "Very simple," his master replied, "I saw a lot of oyster shells in the fireplace, and the answers to a few questions were all I needed to make a diagnosis."
One day, his master being away when a call came, he determined to answer it, and see if he could diagnose the case. He returned shortly after, and triumphantly told the doctor that the man was sick from eating too much horse.