"And dumb it on Roney's granary floor to-night after dere been asleeb." Charlie stared at his companion for a moment in silence. Then he rose, and, approaching Nels, examined his partner's face with solemn scrutiny. "By the great horn spoon," he announced, finally, "you've got a head on you like a balloon, my boy!

We pushed on, following bridle-paths, and making toward Dinwiddie Court-House. Half an hour thus passed, and we were near the Roney's Bridge road, when, suddenly, the whole forest on our right blazed with shots. Loud shouts accompanied the firing. The woods crackled as horsemen rushed through them. An obstinate fight was going on in the darkness, between the Federal and Confederate cavalry.

The cows got out and went up to Roney's an' I had to chase 'em; 'tain't any joke runnin' round after cows such a night as this." Having relieved his mind of its grievance, Charlie sat down before the oven door, and, opening it, laid a stick of wood along its outer edge and thrust his feet into the hot interior, propping his heels against the stick.

Every one knew it was Maroney's, and even the colored porter, who sometimes went up into the garret with Porter, to look up some article that had been sent for, would say: "Dat's Massa 'Roney's trunk."

'Twon't be too big. Santy Claus has come to Roney's ranch this year, sure!" THE following story is one of many which has drifted down to us from the story-loving nurseries and hearthstones of Germany.

"Thank you, colonel the same to you." And leaving Nighthawk crouching down beside his fire, I rode on. Pushing on, I reached the cavalry and horse artillery, which I was soon done with you see I dismiss "official" matters with commendable rapidity, reader then I went on across Roney's bridge and along the "Flat Foot road" toward Disaways.