CLIENT. "I have it! I knew I had it at my tongue's end. It's Bitters!" LAWYER." Bitters! are you sure? curious name. Bitters is a CLIENT. "Yes it is—I am positive. Bitters is the man." LAWYER. "Isn't it Butters? There is such a name as Butters; or isn't it Betts, or Beattie ?" CLIENT. "No! I tell you it's Bitters!" The lawyer, thus so positively reassured, proceeded to draw up the agreement accordingly. He then handed it to his client, who read down to the name "Bitters," and then exclaimed: "Good gracious! the name isn't Bitters, after all! It's Stoughton, as true as I'm alive!" It is easy to see how the man was misled by the two words. It is barely possible, however, that he may have been a little befogged in his memory by having previously taken a little something-and a little too much with his "Stoughton Bitters." WOULD it not be a good plan to substitute for the modern custom of duelling (under the miscalled "code of honor") with pistols, rifles, or swords, the plan adopted in Kordafan? It is as follows: Till a finger was seen at the window to beckon- "He knew I was ruined-all gone to smash! "I called the next day, but the stool was removed, A CORRESPONDENT in Washington sends for insertion in the "Drawer" the following account of "Mr. Schenck in the Ministry," which we quite agree with him in thinking is "altogether too good to be lost: "Every one who has heard Hon. Robert C. Schenck speak for the first time, in a case where his feelings were deeply interested, knows what a vivid impression his withering sarcasm and impassioned manner are calculated to produce upon persons unaccustomed to listen to animated debates. "When a gentleman of that nation considers himself aggrieved, he sends the offender a formal challenge, which, it is presumed, is always accepted. The duel takes place on some open plain, and all the friends of the combatants assemble as spectators. "An agareb, or couch, is then brought forth, and the two combatants place a foot close to the edge of the couch, the breadth of which alone divides them. A formidable whip, made of Hippopotamus leather, is then placed in the hands of each, and renewed attempts are made by their friends to reconcile them. If, however, they are bent on carry-ister to Brazil,' a country in South America. The ing out their affair of honor,' the signal for battle is at last given. He who is entitled to the first blow, then inflicts as hard a lash as he can on his opponent, who stands perfectly still to receive the compliment, and then prepares to return it. "They thus continue, turn and turn about,' to flog each other's backs and shoulder (the head must on no account be struck), while the blood flows copiously at every stroke. Not an acknowledgment of pain escapes the lips of either, and all the spectators remain equally mute. This continues until one of the combatants, generally from sheer exhaustion, drops his instrument of torture, whereupon the victor immediately does the same. "The rivals now shake hands, declaring that they have received sufficient satisfaction'; their friends congratulate them on the reconciliation; their wounds are washed, and sundry jugs of merissa,' the national beverage, provided beforehand, are produced, and emptied by the spectators in honor of the gallant opponents." "An unsophisticated Methodist farmer, who lived in a distant portion of the country, and whose avocation seldom called him to Court,' accidentally heard that Mr. Schenck was appointed 'Min terms minister,' and 'preacher of the gospel,' were inseparably associated in his mind; and he took it for granted that Mr. Schenck had turned preacher, and had seen sent off on a professional 'mission.' "With this impression he went home. 'Wife,' he said, 'what do you think I heard at Dayton, today? That little white-headed lawyer you have heard me speak of so often, has been converted, and turned preacher to a heathen nation away down in South America! If the Devil ever met his match, I guess he has got him now; for if grace don't change him too much, he will give no rest to the reprobate for the sole of his foot until he leaves the country!'" AN amusing anecdote, connected with the celebrated Whisky Insurrection of Pennsylvania, is related of one of the citizen-soldiers in the expedition of the Macpherson Blues against the insurgents in 1794, which is worthy of being recorded. The This seems to be administering "equal and ex-person referred to was a German by birth, of the act justice;" and the "style" is like the play of "cutting jackets," by which country boys sometimes test each other's prowess. A WO-BEGONE lover, "out at the pockets," and doubtful of success in the end, is a sad "subject ;" as may be abundantly gleaned from the subjoined pathetic lines: "I am down in the mouth, I am out at the pockets! And all I have left, is a braid and a locket: name of Koch, who was well known in Philadelphia as a large out-door underwriter, in his day and generation. He died in Paris, leaving a fortune of over a million and a half of dollars. Koch was a private in the Macpherson Blues. It fell to his lot one night to be placed sentinel over a baggage-wagon. The weather was cold, raw, stormy, and wet. This set the sentinel to musing. After remaining at his post for an hour, he was heard calling out lustily: "Gorpral of der Guartz! Guartz !" Gorpral of der The Corporal came, and inquired what was | mother; while the husband of the latter is the father. wanting. Koch "wished to be relieved for a few in-law of his mother-in-law, and father-in-law of minutes," having "something to say to Macpher- his own father!" son." He was gratified, and in a few moments stood in presence of the General. "Well, Mr. Koch, what is your pleasure?" asked Macpherson. "Why, General, I likes to know what may be der value of der wagon over which I am der shentinel?" "How should I know, Koch?" asked the General. "Well, somet'ing like it-not to be bartick'ler?" "Well-a thousand dollars, perhaps." "Very well, General Macpherson; I writes a check for der moneys, and den I shall go to my beds!" A CAPITAL hit at the snobby English often to be found traveling in Italy, is contained in the annexed letter from a "man of leather" in London, writing from the "Hôtel de l'Europe," in Rome, to his partner in "the city:" This "reads" almost as puzzlingly as the ques. tion asked of an American by a waggish English man: "Can a man, in America, marry the sister of his widow?" "O yes," was the reply; "it's a matter of very frequent occurrence." "Indeed! Well, in our country it is quite dif ferent. It is never done there, although it is not against the law!" ONE cold winter evening a knot of village worthies were convened around the stove of a country store, in a Western town, warming their fingers by the stove-pipe, and telling stories and cracking jokes. The schoolmaster, the blacksmith, and the barber, and the constable, and the storekeeper, and the clerk, all were there. After they had drunk cider and smoked cigars to their hearts' content, and when all the current topics of the day had been exhausted, the schoolmaster proposed a new kind of game to relieve the monotony of the evening. Each one was to propound a puzzle to his neighbors; and whoever should ask a question that he himself could not solve, was to pay the cider-reckoning for the entire party. "I see Blink, Twist, and Co. have failed. Don't accept less than seven shillings in the pound. Our account is £2861. Leathers, I see, are up. "I'm a melancholy man. But when you're at Rome you must do as Rome do, which aint much, except ruinationing all over. You know the crack things here are the Pope and his toe, and the Fo-" rum, and the Coliseum, which is in the shape of the oval box-bed before old Twist's house at Pentonville. I say, confound Mrs. Starke, who wrote the Guide-Book. She's the author of half my misery; pinting out all them old ancient buildings, about which some people cipher all day; but for me, it's like casting a paid account. "There's the Watican of the Pope, full of old ancient images and stone-work. We've seen hundreds of pictures. You ought to admire Raphael's most, and call him Rough-file. There's the Arch of Titus, and several others, which would look much cleaner if white-washed; and I'm dreadfully bit up by vermin. The idea took at once; and the schoolmaster, "by virtue of his office," called on Dick D—, whom most folks thought a fool, and a few a knave, to put the first question. "Wal, neighbors," said Dick, drawling out his words, and looking ineffably dull and stupid, "You've seen where squirrels dig their holes, haven't you? Can any of you tell me the reason why they never throw out any dirt?" This was a 66 poser;" and even the "master" had to "give it up." It now devolved on Dick to explain : "The reason is," said Dick, "that they first begin at the bottom of the hole!" "Stop! stop!" cried the schoolmaster, startled out of all prudence by so monstrous an assertion: Pray, how does the squirrel get there?" "Ah, master," replied the cunning fool, "that's a question of your own asking!" "Rome's dirty and dull; in fact, nothing looks" clean in Italy but the sky, which is really very blue. The color of the Tiber is not 'yellow,' as the books say, but a dark table-ale color. (Tell John to bottle off last year's brewing before I come back.) "You often say, 'He's a Trojan.' I've seen that gentleman's stone-works. His column represents nothing; while the brass flames of our Monument do give an idea of the great fire in London. "The bridges here are called 'punts,' no doubt because in antique times they were held up by flat-bottomed boats!" The result had not been anticipated. The "schoolmaster was abroad" at that particular juncture! "WHAT harm is there in a pipe?" says young PUFFWELL. "None that I know of," replied his companion; "except that smoking induces drinking; drinking induces intoxication; intoxication induces the bile; bile induces jaundice; jaundice leads to the dropsy; dropsy terminates in death. Put that in your THE following odd sort of relationship was act-pipe, and smoke it!'" ually formed by a pair of nuptials extraordinary in North Carolina : "A widower, who was not very young, became 'smitten' by a beautiful girl, and married her. A short time after, the son of this man, by a former wife, became also in love, not with a younger person, but with the mother of the father's new wifea widow lady, still in the bloom of her years. He offered himself, and soon the young man and the widow were united in the bonds of matrimony; so that, in consequence of these two connections, a father became the son-in-law of his own son, and the wife not only the daughter-in-law of her own sonin-law, but still more, the mother-in-law of her own PERHAPS there is a hit in the following at the prevailing style of ladies' evening dresses: "When dressed for the evening, the girls, now a days, Scarce an atom of dress on them leave; None blame them-for what is an evening dress, But a dress that is suited for Eve?" IT is a "Britisher" traveling among us who thus records his impressions of the rapid manner in which meals are " 'bolted" at the hotels of our bustling Western cities, where, as some modern writer "the citizens have too much to do to waste much time at their meals." Aside from all other in says, centives, however, to the deliberate partaking of our meals, one ought, especially, to have weight; and that is, that hasty, indigestive "cramming" of food is a serious, and almost a certain cause of illhealth: "Chair, sir?" there, sir!'-' soup, sir?' 'yes, sir!" "One-two-three that wide-mouthed vulture He's a specimen refined. "Call this dining ?-its devouring, "Where's that waiter?'-one breath later Are we seriously distrusting That we seek surcease of sorrow,' "Are we cramming beef and lamb in "Oh! a hideous apprehension Often o'er my bosom steals, With a strong and nervous tension, Thrilling me from head to heels! ""Tis that, some day, some collection Of the hungry guests I've seen, In voracity's perfection, Having swept the table clean, "Will, their appetites to smother Wildly on the waiters fall, Then, devouring one another Eat up landlord, cooks, and all!” balance sheet, for the inspection of his master, in order that he might see what had been the profits of his business for the past year. On this occasion the balance-sheet showed to the credit of the business six thousand pounds, which somewhat astonished the incredulous merchant. "It canna be,' said he; 'ye had better count up agen. I dinna think I ha' had sae profitable a beesness as this represents.' "The clerk, with his usual patience, re-examined the statement, and declared that it was 'a' right,' and that he was willing to wager his salary upon its correctness. The somewhat puzzled merchant scratched his head with surprise, and commenced adding up both sides of the account for himself. It proved right. "I did na' think,' said he, 'that I was worth over four thousand pounds; but ye ha' made me a much richer man. Weel, weel, I may ha' been mair successful than I had tho't, and I'll na' quarrel wi' mysel' for being worth six thousand instead.' "At early candle-light the store was regularly closed by the faithful accountant; and as soon as he had gone, the sorely-perplexed and incredulous merchant commenced the painful task of going over and examining all the accounts for himself. Night after night did he labor in his solitary countinghouse alone, to look for the error; but every examination confirmed the correctness of the clerk, until the old Scotchman began to believe it possible that he was really worth 'sax thousand pounds.' "Stimulated by this addition to his wealth, he soon felt a desire to improve the condition of his household; and with that view, made purchase of new furniture, carpets, and other elegancies, consistent with the position of a man possessing the large fortune of six thousand pounds. Painters and carpenters were set to work to tear down and build up; and in a short time the gloomy-looking residence in Stone Street was renovated to such a degree as to attract the curiosity and envy of all his neighbors. The doubts of the old man would still, however, obtrude themselves upon his mind; and he determined once more to make a thorough examination of his accounts. "On a dark and stormy night he commenced his labors, with the patient investigating spirit of a man determined to probe the matter to the very bottom. It was past the hour of midnight, yet he had not been able to detect a single error; but still he went His heart beat high with hope, for he had THE following amusing example of "Book-keep- nearly reached the end of his labor. A quick susing; or the Rich Man in Spite of Himself," was pub-picion seized his mind as to one item in the account. lished some years ago, and was at the time declared to be a perfectly authentic anecdote of an old New York merchant: "In old times it was the custom of the merchants of the city of New York to keep their accounts in pounds shillings and pence currency. About fifty years ago a frugal, industrious Scotch merchant, well known to the then small mercantile community of this city, had, by dint of fortunate commercial adventure and economy, been enabled to save something like four thousand pounds; a considerable sum of money at that period, and one which secured to its possessor a degree of enviable independence. His places of business and residence were, as was customary at that time, under the same roof. He had a clerk in his employment whose reputation as an accountant inspired the utmost confidence of his master, whose frugal habits he emulated with the true spirit and feeling of a genuine Caledonian. It was usual for the accountant to make an annual on. Eureka! He had found it. With the frenzy of a madman he drew his broad-brimmed white hat over his eyes, and rushed into the street. The rain and storm were nothing to him. He hurried to the residence of his clerk, in Wall Street; 'reached the door, and seized the handle of the huge knocker, with which he rapped until the neighborhood was roused with the loud alarm.` "The unfortunate clerk poked his nightcap out of an upper window, and demanded: · "Wha's there?' "It's me, you scoundrel!' said the frenzied merchant; ye've added up the year of our Laird among the pounds!" "Such was the fact. The addition of the year of our Lord among the items had swelled the fortune of the merchant some two thousand pounds beyond the amount." HERE are a couple of love-songs, at once both Latin and English, one of the amusements of Dean Swift. There is a mine of wit and originality in the learned trifles: "Apud in is almi de si re, Mimis tres I ne ver re qui re, His misery never at rest is." The next, in the same style and vein, is equally happy: "Mollis abuti, O mi de armis tres, I mina dis tres, "Moll is a beauty, Has an acute eye, O my dear mistress, Can't you discover Me as a lover?" We remember another of Swift's exercitations in this kind: "Lætus paco fit tis time: "Let us pack off-'tis time!"! "Jones," said a sympathizing neighbor to a friend, "what in the world put matrimony into your head?" "Well, the fact is, I was getting short of shirts!" A DIALOGUE between a father-a dissipated and extravagant man-and his son, as to how to expend five-and-twenty shillings, which a new situation was to give the former, is one of the laughable, and, at the same time, instructive things that have found their way into our omnium-gatherum. It runs as follows "Now, Johnny, my boy," the old man would say, "let me see; I owe eight shillings at the porter-house, sign of 'The Saddle;' well, that's that." (Putting the amount on one side.) "Yes," says Johnny. "Well, then I promised to pay a score at the Blue Pig Tavern-say five shillings. How much does that make, John?" "Why, thirteen shillings," says the boy, counting on his fingers. "But I mean, you goose, how much have I got left?" "How should I know?" says John; "count it yourself: you've got the money." "But you ought to know," says the father, with true parental authority. "Take thirteen from twenty-five-how many remains? Why twelve, to be sure," counting the balance slyly in his hand. "That's the way you are neglecting your education, is it? I shall have to talk to your schoolmaster." "Yes, you'd better talk to him! He told me yesterday that unless you let him have some money I needn't come to school any more." “Ah, true, my boy-true; you mustn't lose your education, at any rate. Take him round five shillings after dinner. I had a pot of beer with him last night, and he agreed if I would let him have that much now, he would be satisfied for the present." "I want a pair of shoes, father," says John. "I can get a capital pair for three-and-sixpence." "You must get them for three shillings, John: we owe the butcher four, and he must be paid, er we get no meat: there, that ends it," said the poor old man, with a satisfied air; but his vision of independence was in an instant destroyed, by John's simply saying: "You've forgotten the landlady, father!" "Yes, John, that's true-so I have. She must have her pay, or out we go." "She must!" echoed John. 'John," says the father, "I'll tell you how I'll contrive it. I'll put 'The Saddle' off with four shillings, and open a branch account with "The Yew-Tree'" (another drinking-house). "But," said John, "we owed her a shilling last week, and she paid for the washing." "Oh!-ay; well, how much does the washing come to, John?" "Two and tuppence," replied the boy. "Well, then give her three shillings instead of five," said the father. "But then, father, that won't do; and we want "Who wants tea? I don't care a fig for tea." "But I do," replied the boy, with most provoking calmness. "You want tea!" said the father; "you young rascal, you'll want bread yet." "Bread!-that's true," exclaimed John; "you have forgotten the baker!" The old man's schemes to pacify his creditors with five-and-twenty shillings were all dissipated by the recollection of the baker, and sweeping the money off the table into his breeches-pocket, he roared out, in a great passion: "Let 'em all go!-I'll not pay a farthing to any of 'em!" How this may strike others, we do not know; but to our minds this dialogue, and the circumstances (call them rather weaknesses and vices) which led to it, involve a very fruitful lesson. It illustrates very forcibly the denunciation of the Scriptures: "Wo unto them who rise up in the morning to pursue strong drink-who continue until night; until wine inflame them!" "W. T. H.," of Baltimore, sends for the " the ensuing, with the accompanying note: Drawer "Herewith is a piece, found among some very old papers, which it is there stated has never be. fore been published' For severe wit and sarcasm, it strikes me as possessing very great merit, and I think it will afford the readers of the Drawer' some amusement. The explanatory caption was found with the piece, which, as I have said, has been among old family papers for many years. There can be, I should think, no doubt whatever about the authenticity of the piece." "Mr. Wall, of West Bromwich, was, many years since, land steward to T. C. Tervoise, Esq., a large landed proprietor in Warwickshire; and, by his vexatious and oppressive conduct, had occasioned much uneasiness among the inhabitants. Mr. Canning, then a young man, was on a visit to the clergyman of the parish, and entering into the grief of the people, wrote the following sarcastic lines. Wall and Mr. Tervoise were very much enraged, and offered five hundred pounds for the discovery of the author. "MURUS AHENEUS EST. "Will Shakspeare of old, for the pleasure of all, Presented a man in the shape of a wall; Our landlord, alas! for a different plan, Has dressed up a Wall in the shape of a man: Of such rude materials, so heavy and thick, ures, "Twas built by some journeyman mason of Nature's; This Wall, this curs'd Wall, ever since it was raised, "A thing the maid kills with a brush, after I have done breaking breakfast-cakes in it." "How could you cook your mistress?" WE have omitted to mention in compliance with a request, and information furnished by a correspondent at Fayette (Miss.) in March last, that the droll Arkansas "Noatis," which appeared in the February number, and was credited to the " 'Spirit of the Times," originally appeared in the Southern Watchtower," of Fayette, to which journal it was contributed by Joshua S. Morris, Esq., a resident of that town. If the paper in question has many such contributors, it will be a "Tower" of strength in its humorous department. THERE have been sent, in "correction" of the alleged authorship of the lines written by a blind Quaker woman of Philadelphia-published recently in the "Drawer"-numerous letters, attributing "How can you make a venison-pie without the lines to Milton. But the lines were written, as four?" By getting her into a stew?" doe." stated, by Elizabeth Lloyd, a Quaker woman, and Put deer meat inside, and make the crust of blind, of Philadelphia. They appear in no early edition of Milton's Poems; but in the last Cambridge edition they are published as a "newly-discovered effusion" from the pen of the immortal author of "Paradise Lost" and "Paradise Regained. Literary Notices. BESIDES the numerous reprints of valuable foreign books, our literary record for the present month comprises but a scanty number of publications, some of which, however, present very favorable specimens of native talent in various walks of literature. who are induced to take up their residence in this country, and after a series of painfully disastrous events, find a tragic winding-up of their history in a remote town of Vermont. The most striking merits of the production-which are numerous and of a high order-are its vivid and subtle delineaA theological work of considerable importance is tions of passion, the admirable fidelity of its charThe Divine Character Vindicated, by the Rev. MOSES acter-drawing, its frequent touches of pathos, its BALLOU, being a review of some of the principal graphic and effective descriptions of nature, and its features of Dr. Edward Beecher's celebrated Con-life-like, home-like pictures of American manners, fict of Ages. Mr. Ballou presents a copious an-drawn sometimes perhaps with a little too much alysis of that work, treating the statements of the intensity, but always with essential truthfulness, author with candor and justice, and then proceeds to an examination of its remarkable theory in the light of reason and Scripture. His own views are founded on the essential benignity of the Divine character, and the limited consequences of sin, and though they must fail of giving satisfaction to the religious world in general, they are sustained with a good deal of argumentative skill, and are often suggestive of profound reflections. In its transparent simplicity, the style of the volume affords a good model of theological discussion. (Published by Redfield.) and never sacrificing a kindly and generous spirit to the love of satire. In the management of the plot, which we think is too complicated in its details, Mrs. Robinson shows not a little ingenuity and artistic skill. She constantly keeps the curiosity of the reader on the stretch, and escapes from the most difficult situations by adroit arrangements which have the effect of a pleasing surprise. The narrative is full of action and incident, and, covering a wide space, admits of a remarkable variety of scenes, derived from opposite extremities of the American continent. Apart from its interest as a The Exiles is the title of an American novel by novel-which is guaranteed by a plot of high-wrought TALVI (Mrs. ROBINSON), in which that accom-romance-its acute remarks on American instituplished lady brings the fruits of her wide experience of social life in this country to the illustration of a powerful and touching fictitious narrative. The story describes the varied fortunes of a couple of German emigrants, from the higher walks of society, tions and society, illustrated by a succession of lively sketches, evidently taken from the life, challenge the attention of readers, and can not fail to reward them for its perusal. Like the other productions of TALVI, which have given her such a bich |