  A STRANGE PIECE OF HISTORY. S So great was the religious zeal during this period that even the children were also enlisted in the cause. At the close of the Fifth Crusade, these little ones were taught that the warriors had failed because of their sins and that it now remained for the weak and innocent to make an effort. In 1212 not less than 50000 children in France and Germany, braving the anger of parents, gathered together in cities and countries, singing these words; "Lord Jesus, restore to us your holy cross." They were led by two boys, Stephen of Colyes, and Nicholas of Hungary, though it is probable that older leaders were also present. When they were asked where they were going, or what they intended to do, they replied, "We are going to Jerusalem to deliver the Sepulchre of our Saviour." A great portion of them tried to cross the Alps near Mt. Cenis and nearly all perished. Others took another route, and crossing, at an easier pass, arrived in Italy, while most who came from France went to Marseilles. They had been made to believe that the year 1213 would be very dry and that the heat of the sun would be so great as to dry up the waters of the sea; thus an easy road for pilgrims would be opened across the bed of the Mediterranean sea to Jerusalem. Finding no dry sea, seven vessels were provided and those who embarked were either ship-wrecked or taken prisoners by the Saracens. Many were lost in the forests then so abundant and large, others perished with heat, hunger, thirst, and fatigue,—and of the fifty thousand who started, few, if any, ever reached home or trod the sands of Palestine. The narrative of the children's crusade seems too strange to be true, but the facts are stated by the most truthful authors and are worthy of being believed. THE SOLDIER'S REPRIEVE.—— ROSE HARTWICK THORPE.—— 'My Fred! I can't understand it,' And his voice, it quivered with pain, While the tears kept slowly dropping On his trembling hands like rain: 'For my Fred was so brave and loyal, So true; but my eyes are dim, And I cannot read the letter— The last that I shall get from him. Please read it, sir, while I listen— In fancy I see him—dead: My boy, shot down like a traitor, My noble, my brave boy, Fred!' "Dear Father," so ran the letter, "You remember Bennie Wilson? He's suffered a deal of pain, He was only that day ordered Back into the ranks again; I carried all of his luggage With mine, on the march that day; And I gave my arm to lean on, Else he had dropped by the way. 'Twas Bennie's turn to be sentry; But I took his place, and I— Father, I dropped asleep, and now I must die as traitors die! The Colonel is kind and thoughtful, And a little sun-browned maiden, In a shabby, time-worn dress, Took her seat a half-hour later In the crowded night express. The conductor heard her story As he held her dimpled hand, And sighed for the sad hearts breaking All over the troubled land. He tenderly wiped the tear-drops From the blue eyes brimming o'er, And guarded her footsteps safely Till she reached the White House door. The President sat at his writing; THE MAID OF ORLEANS.—— A sketch of the life of Joan of Arc.——Adapted from Guizot's History of France.—— There are few nations whose history presents so many examples of bravery and love of country, as France. The romantic story of Joan of Arc, commonly called the Maid of Orleans, has not a parallel in either ancient or modern times. This heroic maid was a farmers daughter, of good life and character. She was occupied in sewing or spinning with her mother, or driving her In 1428, the English army had laid siege to Orleans, a city of France, and in spite of all their efforts, the French troops found themselves unable to hold the city. Hearing of the great danger of the army of her country, Joan, though but 16 years of age, demanded to be taken before the French king, saying that the King of Heaven had sent her to help him. The king was not sure that Joan was truthful, but after talking with her and finding her sincere, he at last decided to send her to join his army. The king gave her a fine black charger, a sword, a complete suit of armor, and a large white banner covered with lilies. In order that she might better fight, she was allowed to supply herself with men's clothing. When she and her attendants reached the army, great was the surprise of the soldiers; some were ready to mock at the idea of a young maid coming to be the leader of an army, but like good soldiers, they were loyal to their king. Placing herself at the head of the army, she marched out to meet the English, and after a bloody struggle compelled them to raise the siege and beat a hasty retreat. Joan, in leading a charge against the enemy, the first day, was struck by an arrow, which passed completely through her shoulder, but she seized the arrow and drew it from the wound with her own hand and had the surgeon dress the wound. Early the next day she was well enough to lead forth the troops and complete the victory begun the day before. During this year she was able to defeat the English in several other battles. After these victories, the French generals and leaders became jealous of her success, and persuaded the king to give up efforts till the next spring. This delay was fatal. Profiting by it, the English increased their army and early in May, when Joan led forth her troops, it was to be defeated and made a prisoner. The English tried her as a witch, or heretic, and she was finally sentenced and burned at the stake on May 30, 1431, three years after she first appeared among the troops. Years after, as if to undo the terrible crime of burning a sweet, virtuous and heroic girl, another trial was had, the evidence against Joan was all reviewed, and be it said to the everlasting honor of her judges, they decided that she had not been guilty and that her Whether she really was assisted by God or not, no one knows, but history does not record the name of a woman whose efforts seemed more inspired, and whose life was so entirely pure and patriotic. Decorative. Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood. TENNYSON: "LADY CLARA VERE DE VERE." Decorative. Fighting Birds. Fighting Birds.
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