The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1884-01-31

had almost forgotten the poet at work
upstairs Dinner had been announced,
and we were about to sit down when
Read came in and beckoned me to
come. When reached the room, he
said:
Murdoch, / think | have about
what YOU want He read it to me, and,
with an enthusiasm that surprised him,
said it is just the thing"
I'VE dined, and at the proper time
Read and |, with the family, went to
Pixies Opera House. The building was
crowded in every part. Upon the stage
were sitting
200 MANNED SOLDIERS,
each with an arm or leg of, Gencr-
al Joe Hooker was to present me with
the flag the ladies had made, and at
the time appointed we marched down
the stage toward the footlights, General
Hooker bearing the flag, and with my
arm in his. Such storm of applause
as greeted the appearance never heard
before or since. Behind and on each
side of us were the rows of crippled
soldiers, in front the vast audience,
cheering to the echo. Hooker quailed
before the warm reception, and grow
ing nervous, said to me in an UNDER
tone:
II can stand the storm OF battle,
but this is too much for me-
Leave it to me, saiHT- am an
old hand behind the footlights. 2 will
divert the strain from you So quick
ly dropped upon my knee, took fold
Of the silken flag and pressed it to my
lips. This by-play created a fresh
storm OF enthusiasm, but it steadied
Hooker, and he presented the flag very
gracefully, which | accepted in fitting
words. then drew the poem Read
had written from my pocket, and, with
proper introduction, began reading it
TO the audience. The vast assemblage
became
AS STILL AS CHURCH
during prayer-time, and | read the
three first verses without pause, and
then read the fourth:
Cnder his spurning feet the road
Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed,
Like an ocean flying before the wind;
And the steed, ike a bark, fed with furnace
ire
Swept on with his Wild eyes full of fire;
But 10. be is nearing his hearts desire,
He Is snufhng the smoke of the roaring fray,
With Sheridan only five miles away.
LAS this verse was finished, the audi
ence broke into tumult of applause.
Then l read, with all the spirit could
commando
The first that the General saw were the groups
Of straggers, and then the retreating troops:
What was done-what to do-a glance told
him both,
And striking his spurs with terrible oath,
He dashed down the lines mid a storm of
hurrahs,
And the wave of retreat checked its course
there, because
The sight OF the master compelled II TO pause.
With foam and with dust the black charger
was gray,
By the fash Of his eye and his nostrils' play
He seemed 10 the whole great army TO say,
Il have brought you Sheridan all the way
From Winchester town 10 save the day
1.-The sound Of my voice uttering the
last word had not died away when
cheer after cheer went up from the
great cOncourse that shook the building
to its very foundation. Ladies waved
their handkerchief and men their hats,
until worn out with
THE FERyOR OF THE HOUR.
They then demanded the author name,
and pointed TO Read who was sitting
in box, and he acknowledged the
verses. In such setting h. kren
such an occasion as have - Vile
only to family describe to you, the
poem of 'Sheridan's Ride was given
TO the world 1t was written in about
three hours, and not word was ever
changed after read it from the manu-
script, except for the addition OF the
third verse, which records the fifteen
mile stage of the ride.
But there's a road from Winchester town,
A good, broad highway, leading down;
And there, thro' the fash of the morning
light,
A steed as black as the steeds Of night
Was seen TO pass as with eagle flight;
AS If he knew the terrible need,
He stretched away with the utmost speed;
Hills rose and fell-but his heart was gay,
With Sheridan fifteen miles away.
This Mr.. Read wrote while on his
way, shortly after first read the poem,
to attend birthday reception to VIII
liam Cullen Bryant.
"Mr. Read read the poem, thus COM
pleted at Mr.. Bryant's birthday party.
The great old man listened to every
line Of it, and then, taking the younger
poet by the hand, said, with great
warmth:
That poem will live as long as
Lochinvar " +. A. B.
The Care Of the Hair.