tives. It were better to drink - say, iced lemonade, in which—for you, dear readerby some mistake a little sherry has been cobblered. Sherrare est humanum. The Rabbis, we are told, forbade the children of Israel to puff the fire on the Sabbath with bellows, though they might keep it going by blowing through a straw. Wherefore, to this day, certain of the devout 'keep it a-going' by means of a straw-only by some strange mistake in interpretation, or by some vowel-points getting mislaid, they, instead of blowing from them in the straw, suck toward them. And their 'society' is a large one. But we were talking of 'good company,' as they say in 'good society'-not of 'good society,' as they say in 'good company.' And, therefore, although not 'a retired clergyman,' and devoutly hoping that my 'sands of life' are not by a very long while 'run out,' (for I want to see my future friends,) I would yet (without these advantages) offer you some slight relief,' and would seek to assuage your sufferings resulting from too much good company; and since we have so few friends in the past who have amused us, turn we our 'regards' to the possible FRIENDS OF THE FUTURE. First among whom is BAGNOLE. FACE such as would-be Byron youths all crave, Impenetrable, gloomy as the grave; Voice, a French-gray,' the promise of the face, You'd swear he thought to laugh a deep disgrace. Behold the mask of a bacchantine soul, Drinking deep draughts from life's enchanting bowl. Cosmopolite-he cares not to demand ers, Laughing at Time, and flirting with her He is not pious, and to church won't go ; Ah! what a world, if all were such as you! But when she speaks, her diamond-wit's so table were missing, we all knew where they bright, All other beauties vanish from our sight. It makes me laugh to think how they are went to; in fact, that vivarium, from the One evening, when I had a little company, Nice, naughty folks are sure she's of their his voice, while he pointed to the vivarium : creed, Yet she's no hypocrite, in word or deed. READER, have you in your house a vicarium or aquarium, or any other variety of animal curiosity - shop, under care of the younger members? If so, the subjoined sketch may awaken in your mind more than one vivid souvenir. We know, at all events, that some of its 'features' were founded on facts; that is, if a 'feature' can be 'founded.' However, we take the phrase from- but no, we are sufficiently abused by the Democratic editors, as it is. EDITOR OF THE CONTINENTAL: Among the lesser joys of maternity, that of having your children interested in a vivarium is one of the least in fact, it is an elephantine sorrow. James, my eldest son, is a genius; before he was twelve years old, he invented a rattrap, which not only caught rats, but cut off their tails and let them go. At thirteen, he spoke Italian so fluently that he caused a hand-organ grinder to throw a brick at him. At fourteen, he came home one day with six large panes of glass, some tin and putty, and made a vivarium, a thing full of mud, water, leeches, dirty weeds, and other improvements. 'Ma, the leeches have all crawled out!' Imagine the feelings my little company had the rest of the evening. I shall never forget the fright James gave long walk in the country, evidently having 'O ma! I have such a surprise for you Unfortunately, I had the surprise that night. Business called my husband away from the city that morning, and I was alone. Waking up from a sound sleep about midnight, I distinctly heard somebody working on an anvil, like a blacksmith, 'ching-a-ling! ching-a-ling!' It evidently came from the drawing-room, and my fears at once told me it was a thief trying to break into the house. Next I heard some one whistle, like a man calling a dog, 'wheh! wheh! wheh!' Finally a dog barking, 'woo, woo, wooh!' Thoroughly alarmed, I sprang to the front window, and called: 'Police! thieves!' until I managed to arouse the neighbors. I had the key of the front-door in my chamber; this I threw down to a police officer, and in company with two others he boldly entered the house, lit the gas, and found - that vivarium full of bullfrogs! When James had finished his glass case, he placed it in the front drawing-room window, so that the public might behold that exquisite process of nature, tadpoles turning into spring water-chickens, as they call My son banished the frogs and introduced frogs on hotel bill of fares. Unfortunately, cat-fish, (or, as they call them in Boston, the gold fish he put in with them killed the 'horn-pouts.') One night, my great Angora tadpoles while they still wiggled, and a pick- cat, a cat born in the Rue de Seine, educated erel that he had bought of a fellow-school- in the best French École des chattes, and boy for half-price, its tail being ragged, ate brought to this country by my husband, fell up the gold-fish. a victim to la gourmandise, by falling into If at any time vegetables bought for the the vivarium while fishing for cat-horn 3 THOUGH SO often trampled down by the heel of patriotism, the old serpent of treason and disunion still keeps lifting his head and hissing venomously. In New-York, Fernando Wood - that incarnation of Northern secession- the man who dared to issue a proclamation recommending the inhabitants of the city of which he was mayor to go off with the South, is plotting and planning (unpunished, of course) with spirits of kindred baseness, to build up the old order and reëstablish the rule of corruption. At Washington, all the timid, time-serving, and place-hoping members of Congress have been holding 'Conservative' meetings, at which the most insolent or timid propositions have been put forth; some of the traitors manifesting clear as day their undisguised sympathy for the rebels, others speaking only to preserve their tattered characters as Unionists. The upshot of all was given in a resolution that Congress has no power to deprive a person of his property, unless that person has been duly convicted by a trial by jury. We are not through the war as yet. Possibly, ere the end come, the country may have something to say as to the propriety of our representatives holding meetings to protect and favor rebels in their 'rights.' 'ALWRIGHT, I say.' 'All wrong, you mean. 'Spect you'll make it all right in the morning, hey?' 'AL-WRIGHT!' cried the purchaser. 'Yes, all right!' cried the crowd, taking the joke. All right-go ahead, old knock 'em down.' The auctioneer began to be profane. 'Hold your tongue! Go- -' continued the auctioneer. 'A-L Al, W-R-I-G-H-T wright,' continued the buyer. 'O―h, thunder!' exclaimed Hammer, on whom the laughter of the mob began to ope'That's it, is it! Beg pardon. James, rate. put this gentleman's name down. All right, Gentlemen, allow me to sir. Go ahead. call your attention to this fine lot of leather. Did I hear twenty-five ?-five-five-fivean' a ha'f, an' a ha'f, an' a ha'f-gone!' Yours truly, CONSTANT READER. There is often some fun at auctions. One of the queerest ever reported to us was held in a French-Spanish be-Germanized village on the frontier, where business was transacted in something of a polyglott manner, as follows: 'Gentlemen-Messieurs-Senores y meine Herrne, I've got here for sale-a vender-a vendre zum verkaufen eine Schöne Büchse a first-rate rifle un fusil sans pareil, muy hermosa! Do I hear fifty pesos, cinquante Thaler ge-bid pour this here bully gun? Caballeros mira como es aplatado-all silvered up, in tip-top style-c'est de l'argent fin messieurs-s'ist alles von gutem Silber, Gott verdammich wenn's nicht echt is. Cinquante piastres, fünfzig, fünfzig, fifty do I hear, and a half an' a half an' a half e un demi piastre un d'mi un d'mi ein halb' und ein halb' und ein halb' un medio y un medio - wer sagt six shillins, six escalins, six escalins, seis reales, sechs schillin!? For this beautiful gun, good for Injuns, deer, bar, buffalo, or to kill one another with-madre Dios! bueno por matar los Americanos - first-rate to kill a Greaser-womit Sie alles was nicht Deutsch ist zu todten. Fifty-one dollars, thanky sir-cinquante deux - Merci, Monsieur ! Wer sagt drei und fünfzig - ich glaube dass ein Deutscher bekommt's noch am Ende. Go it, Yankee, Dutch is a-gainin' on ye! and a half an' a half e trois quar' r' r'an' three quarters und drei Viertel y tres quartos-quelqu'un a dit fifty-three fifty-four-going, going, gone, sir-at fiftyfour- America ahead and Frenchy secondbest.' It would take some time, we should think, to be able to reel it off in such a quadruple thread. Wide yawn the timbers, Wild waters rush in, As the ship settles fast Mid the fierce battle-din : Yet her guns hurl defiance, As, stern to the last, The sea sucks her in With her flag on the mast. Sons of the Northman, Whose banner of old Spread the shadow of terror From each grisly fold, Of his broad heritage Worthy are ye: Win it and wear it well, Kings of the sea. THE next Norse' is longer. We find in it a brave ring of true poetry : 1861. 'Oh! dark and true and tender is the North.' O'er town and wold, 'Gainst the Vi-king's arm, And o'er the bright South-land A shadow of dread was the North wind's course, Whene'er his surging currents fanned Years pass, and time new rays has brought, storm. Another god than the fearful Thor In heaven's blue he saw, And he gave to Peace his might in war- And the strong hand holds the sickle now, And waving sunbeams tinge with gold The hues of the ripening corn. And the land he loves in peace has grown BY J. IVES PEASE. That stays the hand—that throbs the heart; Yes, pay them! pay them in their chosen Cleaving the gloom, that wild war-note The traitor's foot is on your flag, And hark! the North-wind's sullen moan That sinks away, then bursts anew The shout, the stroke, the cannon's peal, For the flash of a traitor's steel Has broken the nation's slumber; And sighing breeze and southern gale, Seized by the fierce wind's grasp, are torn From gentle haunt by hill or dale, And in the whirling vortex borne. A nation's hands are raised on high And the ages are rolled from the record of time; For the years of peace with its soft'ning beam, That soothed in love the Northman's heart, Are now but the mists of a warrior's dream. And the tinsel of life is burned in the glow That flames in his heart as in years long ago, When Norman sea-kings swept the wave, Who loved the night, the storm, and bloody grave. And through all the blue of heaven's vault, Rolls the Vala's mystic charm, Swelled with strains of the mighty pastVictory strikes with the Northman's arm. F. TRULY the old Northman is not dead among us. He lived in the iron Monitor, of the descendant of Eric, and he lives in scores of thousands of brave coin, |