_A Soldier's Epitaph_ Left to himself in the deserted hall, the old sailor walked over to the body of the old soldier.

Many a quaint dispute these two old men had held in their brief acquaintance, and upon no one thing had they been able to agree, except in hatred of the English and love of their common country.

Still their disputes had been friendly, and, if they had not loved, they had at least respected each other.
"I wish I had not been so hard on the man.

I really liked him," soliloquized the sailor.

"Poor Blodgett, almost forgotten, as Mr.
Talbot says.