Page 97 - The model orator, or, Young folks' speaker : containing the choicest recitations and readings from the best authors for schools, public entertainments, social gatherings, Sunday schools, etc. : including recitals in prose and verse ...

hand o f the aged man in his own, and raises Ins head upon his knw.
The battle— the battle— how goes the battle? The: group cluster
around as they ask tlie question. T he you n g Continental m^kes no
reply, but, gazing upon die face o f the dying veteran, wipe:; die headed
drops o f blood from his forehead.
" C om rade! !’ shrieks the veteran, '‘ raise me on m y feet, and wipe
1:iie blood from my eyes. I would see him once again,’1 He is niised
"pen ids feet, and the blood is wiped from his eyes, i; I sen,— it is lit
■ — ii is WiiS 1 jington ! Y o n d e ; ■— yondor I sue his sword— a nd Anthor.y
W:.yntv- ra isc tiie highcf, c.om rn de— ;111 is getting daric— I wo u 1 d see

— M ad A nthony J T J ft me, comiMdc— higher, higher-— 1 see him— I
see Mad Anthony J W ipe the blood from m y eyes, comrade, for it
darkens m y s ig h t; it is dark— it is dark ! ”
A n d the you n g soldier held in his anils a lifeless corpse. The old
veteran Was dead, l i e had fought his last tight, fired his last shot,
shouted the name o f Mad A nthony for the last tin-.c; and yet hit
withered hand clenched, with the tightness o f death, tho broken bayonet.
The b,'!ti.lc—-the bn 1:1.3 e— how goes the batch? A s the thciMing
question again rung in liis ears, the you n g Continental turned to the
group, smiled ghastly, and then flung his wounded arm to the south.
N L o s t ! 71 he shrieked, and rushed on his way like one bereft o f his
senses. H e had not gone ten steps, when he hit the dust o f the mad-
side, and lay extended in the face o f day, a lifeless eyrp.se.
-So they died; the young hero and the aged veteran, children o f the
Land o f Penn ! So died thousands o f their brethren throughout tho
Continent— Quebec and Saratoga, Camden and Hunker Hill, to this
hour., retain their bones !
Nameless and unhonored, the 11 Poor Men Heroes " o f Pennsyh
vania sleep tho last slumber on every battle-held o f the Revolution,
The jjiddent which we have pictured is but a solitary page among ten
thousand. Jji every spear o f tho grass that grows on our bailie- fields,
iu overv wild flower that bloom s above the dead o f the Revolution,
you read tho quiet heroism o f the children o f the T,and o f Penn.
G eorge L i z a r d .