A little drummer boy in one of our regimonts who had become a great favorito with maiiy of the orneéis, by bis unremittinr good nature, happeried on one occasion to be n an officer's tent when thc baño of the sol dier's life was passed around. A captain handed a glass to the littlo fellow, but he refused it, saying "I ani a cadet of temperance, aud do not taste strong drink." " But take some uovt. I insist on it. You belong to our mess to-day, and cannot refuae." Still the boy stood firra on the rock of total abstinencc, and held fast to his integrity. The captain, turning to the major, said : " H is afraid to drink he will never malte a soldier." " How is this ? " said the major playful'y; and theu asuming auothcr tone, added : " I coinmand you to take a drink, and you kuow it ís death to disobey orders.1' The little liero, raising his young form to its full height, and b'xing his clear blue eyes, lit up with un usual brilliancy, ou the face of the officer, said : " Sir, my father died a druukard ; and when I eutered the army I promised my dear motlicr, on my bended kuees, that by the help of tíod I would not taste a drop of rum, and I moan to keep my promise. I am sorry to disobey your orders, eir; but I would rather eufler than to disgraoe my motlior and break my tomperanco pledge." The little drummer boy is now a wounded sufferer in the hospital at Wot Philadelphia.