Let no one read this title--rascalities. Fiscalities are very different
things. (_That is to say, out of Wall street_.) PUNCHINELLO always had a
strong liking for fiscal subjects, and even now he would be glad to
write a fiscal history of the United States, provided he was furnished
with specimens of all the various coins, bank-notes, greenbacks, bonds,
and such mediums of exchange that have been in circulation from colonial
times until now. (_That is to say, he'd like very much to have the coins
and things, but if any one takes up this offer, and wants to keep his
coins, a money-order for a corresponding amount, or ordinary bills, in a
registered letter, will be entirely satisfactory_.) But as he can not
write a book this week, he desires to draw the attention of his readers
to the fact that fiscal expansion ought to be the great end of man.
(_That is to say, it often is, but in a different way from what
_PUNCHINELLO _means_.) For instance, look at Colonel FISK, of the
glorious Ninth! Had not his vigorous intellect been closely applied to
the great questions of fiscal economy, is it likely that the steady
expansion of his corporeal being would have given such a weight to his
wisely-planned movements? (_That is to say, if he hadn't got rich he
wouldn't have got so fat, and then buildings would not tremble when he
drills_.) A man who is perfectly proportioned in a fiscal point of view,
can call himself a monarch of the world. The elements will own they are
his servants, and the seasons will mould themselves to suit his will.
(_That is to say, he can have one hundred and fifty fine young women to
dance the Devil's Torchlight Cotillion in his own theatre, and he can sit
there, if he wants to, all alone and look at them just as long as he
pleases; and not one of them dare stop till he's ready_.) Space bows
before such a man, and shrivels itself up into a mere nothing. Land and
water are alike to such a one. It matters not to him whether the waves
roll beneath his possessions, or the solid ground upholds them.
ST. CECILIA sits at the feet of this great exponent of fiscal expansion,
and TUBAL CAIN dwells serenely in his court-yards. (_That is to say,
just wait until you hear his new brass band!_) Now, who would not be as
this financial monarch? Who would not say: "I, too, can do these
things?" (_That is to say, which of us would not gladly take every cent
the good FISK possesses, and let him beg his bread from door to door, if
we only got a decent chance?_) If it were not for such shining examples
of the power of wealth and the glories that it is capable of placing
before our eyes, the souls of ordinary men would much less frequently be
moved to extraordinary effort in the line of pecuniary progress. (_That
is to say, if old_ FISK _did not change the ballet in his Twelve
Temptations so often, and did not keep on getting new dancers, and
dressing them all up different every week or two, we would not have to
raise a dollar and half so frequently to go and see the confounded
thing_.) But it is of no use to try and calculate the vast advantage of
Fiscal expansion. Even with a WEBB'S Adder, PUNCHINELLO could not do the
sum, and it's pretty certain that it would make WEBB Sadder, if he tried
it. Among other things, a man of fiscal solidity is never unprepared for
emergencies, and, if necessary, he can resort to extremities of which
ordinary people would never dream. (_That is to say, have you seen_
FISK'S _last legs?_) Therefore, it becomes us all to endeavor to have a
share in the prosperity of which we see such a shining example, (_that
is to say_, PUNCHINELLO _does not mean for us all to go buy stock in
Erie_,) and mayhap, even the humblest of us may, in time, be able to
whistle "Shoo Fly" in marble halls. (_That is to say, even a poor ostler
may get along very well if he attentively and industriously waters his
stock_.)
* * * * *
Interesting to Mr. Bergh.
"Dog's-Ear" shirt-collars (the ones that stick up and are doubled down
at the points,) are coming into fashion.
Says young SOLOMONS, the other day, "I want something new in collars; I
shall cut my Dog's-ears." And he went and did it; which is decidedly
interesting to Mr. BERGH.
* * * * *
An Interesting Patient.
New-Haven enjoys an elephant that has corns, and is about to be operated
on by a chiropodist. There is a largeness, approaching to sublimity, in
the idea of an elephant with corns, though it naturally suggests the
query, "What Boots it?"
* * * * *
A Dogged Problem.
If Sir WALTER SCOTT'S dog was worth--say--ten "pounds," what was his
Kenilworth?
* * * * *