ACT III.--_Enter_ ASSASSINS _headed by_ BRUTUS _and_ GAMBETTA, CASSIUS_Punchinello, Volume 1, No. 26, September 24, 1870

_and_ ROCHEFORT.

CASSIUS. "Here is CÆSAR with his back toward us, fighting the German's

hordes. Let us steal up and stab him before he can help himself." _(They

stab him.)_

CASSIUS. "Now we will kick his wife out of Paris and smash his

furniture. We will all become a Provisional Government, and fix

everything to suit ourselves. I will revive my newspaper, and hire a

staff from the New York _Sun,_ who will make it more scurrilous than

ever."

_Enter the Parisian populace crying, "Hooray for_ CÆSAR."

CASSIUS. "Hush. CÆSAR is dead, and we are going to proclaim a republic.

Begin and abuse him with all your might. We'll let you smash some

windows presently."

POPULACE. "Hooray. The tyrant has fallen. Let's go and insult his wife

and smash everything generally."

1ST EDITORIAL PERSON. "Yesterday these precious rascals voted for him.

To-day they insult him--it being safe to do so--and to-morrow they will

want him back again."

2ND EDITORIAL PERSON, "There lies the ruins of the noblest nephew of his

uncle that ever lived in France or elsewhere. He was unscrupulous, I

admit, but he knew how to rule. Shall we stay and hear MARK ANTONY

praise him, and set the fickle rabble at the throats of ROCHEFORT and

BRUTUS, and their gang?"

1ST EDITORIAL PERSON. "That will take place very shortly, but I can't

wait for it. I must go home to write an editorial welcoming the new

republic, and prophesying all manner of success for it. The American

people like that sort of trash, though they have already twice seen the

French try republican institutions only to make a muddle of them."

2ND EDITORIAL PERSON. "What do you think of the actors here at NIBLO'S."

1ST EDITORIAL PERSON. "DAVENPORT is good but heavy, BARRETT rants like a

raving French radical. MONTGOMERY is excellent, and the rest are so so."

And the undersigned having seen the French revolution played on the

Roman stage at NIBLO'S, also went home without waiting to see the

prophetic fourth and fifth acts, in which the conspirators come to

grief, and the empire is reëstablished. We shall read all about it in

the cable dispatches a few months hence. Good Heavens! who can listen

calmly to the speeches of the players, while the grandest drama of the

century is acting across the sea, where a mad populace, freed from the

firm grasp of its master, breaks windows and howls itself hoarse as the

best preparations for holding the fairest of cities against the

resistless veterans of VON MOLTKE.

MATADOR.

* * * * *

Insurrectionary.

PUNCHINELLO, pondering over the vast sums that have been forwarded to

Cuba, in aid of the insurrectionary movements there, and struck with the

disadvantages under which the promoters of liberty labor in that sunny

isle, blesses his stars that, thanks to the enterprise of Miss SUSAN B.

ANTHONY, he can raise a Revolution in New York City, at any time,

for ten cents. Let those whom it may concern take heed.

* * * * *

Bluff King Bill.

L.N. declared his determination to kick old King BILLY, of Prussia, off

from French territory. Well, it would only have been a new illustration

of "footing the Bill."

* * * * *

Query.

As soon as the abominable fat-boiling nuisances have been abolished,

will it be right to say that they have fallen into de-_suet_-ude?

* * * * *

A Seasonable Conundrum.

Why is New York City like the ex-Emperor of the French?

Because it has just got rid of its Census.

* * * * *

A Suggestion.

In consideration of the splendid jewels worn by him, might not Colonel

JIM FISK be more appropriately called Colonel GEM FISK.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE SPIRIT OF THE WAR.

A Sketch In the Bowery.

_Small Frenchman._ "WHAT FOR YOU HIT ME WITH YOUR DAMBABY VEN YOU PASS?"

_Big German._ "WANTS TO FIGHT?--DINKS YOU CAN WHIP ME, EH?"

_Small Frenchman._ "NO--BUT I CAN GIVE YOUR DAMBABY ONE BLACK EYE!"]

* * * * *

BY GEORGE!

LAKE GEORGE, August 30.

DEAR PUNCHINELLO:--I arrived here last Saturday, and as I would be the

last person to allow a commendable enterprise to languish for want of

proper encouragement, and in order to put the Hotel proprietors out of

suspense, I thought I would let you know without further delay that I

consider Lake George a success.

Not being expected, as I supposed, I must admit I was somewhat gratified

to find a full band playing on the veranda as the coach I was in drove

up.

It was a sort of delicate attention, you know.

I notice, however, that they continue playing in the afternoon since

then, I suppose it struck them as a good idea at the time.

The Fort William Henry Hotel is a gorgeous affair in every respect. It

is situated very near the old original Fort, just where the French

troops advanced to capture it, and made their celebrated charges.

Perhaps the present proprietor can't discount them at that sort of

thing.

Perhaps not!

Looking over one's bills reminds you a good deal of the Police Courts,

five dollars fine, twenty-five dollars costs.

The costs they make here are very good, however, altho' they do put a

little too much mint in them, I must say.

L.G. is all right, though. It is supplied with all the modern

conveniences. It isn't within five minutes walk of the post office, but

its water conveniences are apparent to all. There is no end to its

belles, and as for its ranges, it has two of them--both Adirondacks.

Yesterday I took a trip up the Lake and across to its neighbor,

Champlain.

Everybody takes this trip because its "the thing," and it is therefore

particularly necessary to take it. Ostensibly, you go to view the

scenery, really, to be inveigled into paying for a low comedy of a

dinner at the other end.

The first place our boat stopped at is called the "Trout Pavillion,"

principally, so far as I can learn, on account of the immense number of

pickerel caught there, and from the fact that it is unquestionably a

good site for a Pavillion whenever the esteemed Proprietor turns up

jacks enough, at his favorite game, to build one.

The next place was set down in the Guide Book as the "Three Sisters"

Islands, an appellation arising from the fact that there are precisely

_four_ of them.

I mentioned this apparent discrepancy to the boat clerk.

This young man, who belongs to a Base Ball Club, informs me that these

islands invariably travelled with a "substitute," as one occasionally

got "soaked."

This certainly seems a little curious, but as the young man says he was

born here, I suppose he knows.

This same young man pointed out a beautiful spot called Green Island and

asked me if I wouldn't like to live there.

He said he thought it would just suit me.

The attention of these people is really delightful.

Some of these places, however, have very inappropriate names, for

instance another little gem is called "Hog Island." No one knows why it

was so called. The clerk of the boat don't either.

He wanted to know if I had ever dined there.

I always make it a point to get on the right side of these Steamboat

fellows, always.

About half way up the Lake is a place called Tongue Mountain.

A long time ago a colony of strong-minded women settled there.

That may have had something to do with its name.

Nobody ever goes there now.

People go very near the mountain in boats, however, as it is noted for

something very extraordinary in the Echo line.

It has what is called a "Double Echo."

I fully expected something of this kind.

Now if there is anything I am particularly down on, it is those

unmitigated frauds known as Echoes. And if I ever throw four sixes, it

is when I am tackling some unsuspecting old ass of a watering place

echo.

I consider them "_holler_ mockeries."

Of course we steamed within proper distance, and I seized the

opportunity to "put a head on" this venerable two-ply nuisance, as

follows:

First, I read a page of a Patent Office Report I go armed with.

This the Echo, with very little hesitation, repeated in duplicate as

usual. From one side of the rock in English, and from the other in fair

French.

I saw at once that old EK was pretty well filled.

Next I sang "Listen to the Mocking Bird," which it repeated very

creditably indeed, dropping but two notes on the third verse. This it

made up for, I am bound to admit, by throwing in some original

variations in the chorus.

But I hadn't played from my sleeve yet, so I recited HAMLET'S Soliloquy.

From the wooded slope on our right came the familiar "_To be_" of BOOTH,

while from the sloping woods on our left proceeded a finely rendered

imitation of the Teutonic FECHTER, in the same.

This staggered me!

I had one more jack in my cuff, however. I pulled out a copy of the

Tribune and read a few paragraphs of GREELEY'S "What do I know about

Farming."

_That settled him!_

He never got to the first semi-colon. It knocked the breath right out of

him!

The poor old fossil had to quit. He changed his repeater to a leaver.

But then you see he had held the office a good while.

He hasn't left the business to any one, either.

In future no one will go fooling round there except the fishermen. The

sign is down.

In my next I will finish the Lake trip, and give you some account of the

celebrated "Roger's Slide."

SAGINAW DODD.

[_To be continued._]

* * * * *

RAMBLINGS.

BY MOSE SKINNER.

POPULARITY.

Next to talk, popularity is the cheapest thing I know of. It is achieved

by three classes--those who have brains, those who have money, and those

who have neither. The first earn it; the second buy it; and the third

stumble into it, perhaps by waving their hat at an engineer just in time

to prevent the train from dashing over a precipice, or by chopping off

somebody's head with a meat axe and burning the remains up afterwards,

in which case the next day's paper gives a faithful account of their

pedigree, and their photograph can be purchased at any respectable

news-dealers, at a price within reach of all.

The most common-place sayings of popular men are handed down to

posterity, and a casual remark about the weather is often framed and

hung up in the spare-bedroom.

It behooves every public man to keep a sentence or two on hand, with a

view to embalming them for future reference. I wish to state, in

confidence, that if any prominent man who can't think of anything that

sounds well, will address me, I will furnish him at the low price of one

dollar a sentence. My stock is entirely fresh and original, and embraces

such gems as--"Don't give up the ship," "Such is Life," "How's this for

high?" "I die happy," "A stitch in time saves nine," &c., &c.

I am also prepared to furnish "last words of eminent men," at a moderate

compensation.

General GRANT has taken time by the forelock in this matter. His "Let us

have Peace," was a most brilliant effort, because nobody ever thought of

it before. "I propose to move on your works immediately, if it takes all

summer," was also a happy thought.

When General GRANT was in Boston he said he liked the way they made

gravy in Massachusetts. Now this in itself would not, perhaps, be called

deep, because others have said the same thing before, but, coming from a

man like GRANT, it set folks to thinking, and it is not surprising that

something of this sort went the rounds:

"We have the best authority for stating that General GRANT,

during his recent visit to Boston, remarked that he was

gratified at the manner in which gravy was produced in

Massachusetts. Our talented Chief Magistrate is a man of few

words, but what he does say is spicy, and to the point."

At the Peace Jubilee, GRANT said he "liked the cannon best;" but the

reporters, being confidentially informed that the remark wasn't intended

for posterity, it didn't get out much. I didn't hear of his saying

anything else.

If a popular man takes cold, the whole public sneeze. His opinions must

go into the papers any how, though perhaps no better than anybody's

else. Thus--from a daily paper:

"The Hon. MONTGOMERY BLAIR recently said in a private

conversation, that the present war would probably end in

victory for the Prussians, and the overthrow of Napoleon."

Supposing he did? I heard JOHN SMITH say the same thing in an eating

saloon over a month ago, and out of twenty gentlemen present, four were

reporters, but they didn't take out their note books in breathless haste

and put down the Hon. JOHN SMITH'S opinion, how Mr. SMITH looked when he

said it, and if he said it as though he really meant it, and in a manner

that thrilled his listeners.

But JOHN hasn't any popularity, you see, and the Hon. MONTGOMERY

has--though it may be a little mildewed.

Soon after the war, I wrote an article on the Alabama Claims. It was a

masterly effort, and cost me a month's salary to get it inserted in a

popular magazine. If that article had proved a success, I could easily

have gulled the public all my life on the popularity thus achieved.

But I made a wretched mistake to start with. Instead of heading it "The

Alabama Claims," "By CHARLES SUMNER," or "HORACE GREELEY." I said "By

MOSE SKINNER."

I will not dwell on the result. Suffice it to say that I soon after

retired from literature, a changed being, utterly devoid of hope.

MORAL SUASION.

A friend of mine, an eminent New York philanthropist, relates the

following interview with a condemned criminal. The crime for which this

wretched man was hung is still fresh in our memories. One morning at

breakfast his tripe didn't suit him, and he immediately brained his wife

and children and set the house on fire, varying the monotony of the

scene by pitching his mother-in-law down the well, having previously,

with great consideration, touched her heart with a cheese knife.

I will now quote my friends' own words:

"He was pronounced a hard case, manifesting no sorrow for his act, and

utterly indifferent to his approaching doom. A score of good people had

visited him with the kindest intentions, but without making the smallest

impression upon him.

"Without boasting, I wish to say that I knew I could touch this man's

heart. I saw a play once in which the most blood-thirsty and brutal

ruffian that ever existed was melted to tears at the mention of his

mother's name, and childhood's happy hours, and everybody knows that

what happens on the stage happens just the same in real life.

"I naturally congratulated myself on having seen this play, for it gave

me power to cope with this relentless disposition.

"He resisted all attempts at conversation, however, in the most dogged

manner, barely returning surly monosyllables to my anxious wishes for

his well being.

"At last, laying my hand on his shoulder, and throwing considerable

pathos into my voice, I said:

"My friend, it was not always thus with you. There was a time when you

sat upon your mother's knee, and gathered buttercups and daisies?"

"Ah! I had touched the right chord at last. His brow contracted and his

lips twitched convulsively."

"And when that mother put you in your little bed," I continued, "she

kissed you, and hoped you would grow up a--"

"You lie," said he, "she didn't. The old woman was six foot under ground

afore I could chaw. Now, look a here, you're the fourth chap that's

tried the 'mother' dodge on me. Why don't you fellers" he added with a

malicious grin, "go back on the mother business, and give the old man a

chance, jest for a change?"

"After the above scurvy treatment I was naturally anxious to witness the

man's funeral, which I understood was to be a gorgeous affair, six

respectably-attired females having been sworn in to kiss the body, amid

the hysteric weeps of three more in the background."

* * * * *

[Illustration: PRACTICAL.

_Housewife._ "VAKE YOU UP, HANS--HERE'S ANODER BRUSSIAN VICTORY."

_Hans, (dreamily.)_ "ANODER BRUSSIAN VICTORY?--DEN LET US HAVE ANODER

BRUSSIAN BIER."]

* * * * *

Hot and Cold.

The sensational paragraph writers had better "let up" on the question of

an imminent dearth of ice. There is no real probability that we shall be

without ice before winter sets in. It is only for the purpose of keeping

us in hot water that the newspaper men say we shan't have cold water.

* * * * *

[Illustration: NOT JUST YET!

_Mr. Greeley._ "PRAY, TAKE A SEAT, MR. WOODFORD; I WOULDN'T ON ANY

ACCOUNT DEPRIVE YOU," etc., etc.

_Mr. Woodford._ "No! NO!--TAKE IT YOURSELF, MR. GREELEY; THE LAST THING

I SHOULD THINK OF WOULD BE," etc., etc.

_Governor Hoffman._ "DON'T TROUBLE YOURSELVES, GENTLEMEN: I SHALL

PROBABLY CONTINUE TO OCCUPY THE CHAIR FOR A COUPLE OF YEARS, YET."]

* * * * *

COMIC ZOOLOGY.

Genus, Phoca.--The Seal.

This is the common name of the inoffensive and fur-bearing members of

the Phocidæ family. The word seal is derived, radically, from the

German _Siegel,_ so that to say a man has "fought mit SIEGEL," is

equivalent to remarking that he has assailed a harmless and timid seal.

The Phocidæ, without distinction of sex, are known as Mammafers,

although it would manifestly be more correct to call the males Papafers.

Under the present classification, the confusion of genders necessarily

engenders confusion.

Unless AGASSIZ is gassing us, the true seal has no sign of an ear,

wherefore the deafening roar of the surf in which it delights to sport

is probably no inconvenience to it. As distinguished from dumb beasts in

general, it may properly be called a deaf and dumb animal. The false

seal, on the contrary, has as true an ear as e'er was seen. To the

counterfeits belong the sea lion, the Mane specimen of the tribe in the

Arctic sea, and the sea leopard, which seems to be phocalized in the

Antarctic circle. All the varieties of the seal seek concealment in

caverns, and their Hides are much sought after.

Sealing was at one time chiefly monopolized by adventurous New

Englanders, who combined the pursuit with whaling, but at present the

sealers of Salt Lake bear off the palm from all competitors, both as

regards numbers and hardihood. Whether they combine whaling with sealing

is not positively known, but probably they do. Such is the universal

passion for sealing among the people of that region, that the old men

act like Young men when engaged in this exciting occupation.

The Phocidæ appear to have attracted the attention of Mankind at a very

early period--Seals being frequently spoken of in the Scriptures. St.

JOHN witnessed the opening of no less than seven varieties, and must

have been well acquainted with their internal structure.

The earless, or true species, are often seen in considerable numbers on

the British coast, and the Great Seal of England--only to be found in

the vicinity of the Thames--is of such remarkable size and weight, that

it never makes its appearance without producing a strong Impression.

The Green Seal, a much admired variety, is peculiar to Madeira, and

seals of various colors are often seen in close proximity to the

British. Ports; the number taken off Cork being prodigious.

None of the animals of the Phoca genus are tenacious of life. They may

readily be destroyed with sealing whacks. A large stick properly applied

has been known to seal the fate of a dozen in the space of half an hour.

KANE knocked them over without difficulty, and they never attempt to

defend themselves, according to PANEY.

In conclusion, it may be remarked that immense herds of seals cover the

coasts of Alaska. It is nevertheless difficult to catch a glimpse of

them, on account of the enormous flocks of humming birds, which darken

the air in that genial clime. Occasionally, however, the Arctic zephyrs

disperse the feathery cloud, and then vast numbers of the timid

creatures, with a sprinkling of the Walrus, may be seen by looking in a

Se(a)ward direction.

* * * * *

A LITTLE ACKNOWLEDGMENT.

The _Free (and Easy) Press_ has honored PUNCHINELLO with a brief as well

as premature obituary paragraph. Flattered as he is by being thus

noticed in the columns of a journal of the long standing and well

sustained popularity of the _Free (and Easy) Press_, it pains

PUNCHINELLO to be obliged to state that he still lives, and that he is

not only alive, but kicking. That he has come to an end, is true--but it

is to the end of his First Volume, as the _F. (and E.) Press_ can see by

turning to the admirably written, dashing, humorous, and absolutely

unsurpassable Index appended to our present number, which Index

PUNCHINELLO cordially recommends to the perusal of the _F. (and E.)

Press_. The Preface to his Second Volume, however, which is now in

preparation, will, PUNCHINELLO confidently assures the _F. (and E.)

Press_, be altogether superior to the Index to his First. Let the _F.

(and E.) Press_ look out for it. But, meanwhile, the _F. (and E.) Press_

can cheer itself by frequent contemplation of the entertaining personage

who serves as tail-piece to the Index, and whose gesture is of that

familiar and suggestive kind that will doubtless be thoroughly

understood by the _F. (and E.) Press_, and, as PUNCHINELLO hopes, fully

appreciated.

* * * * *

[Illustration: "HUMPTY DUMPTY SAT ON THE WALL, HUMPTY DUMPTY HAD A GREAT

FALL."

AND IT HE HAD FALLEN AMONG THE PRUSSIANS, ONLY, IT MIGHTN'T HAVE BEEN SO

BAD FOR HIM; BUT, AS HE ALSO FELL UPON FRENCH BAYONETS, IT IS QUITE

CERTAIN THAT HE CAN NEVER GET UP AGAIN.]

* * * * *

HIRAM GREEN IN WALL STREET.

His Celebrated Speech before the Board or Brokers.--A few Words of Sound

Advice from the Squire.

Doorin' a breef sojern in the Emperor City, a deputation of Wall Street

brokers and smashers called and invited me to make a speech afore the

members of their church, whose _Sin_-agog is situated in Brod Street.

Thinks I, if I can make these infatuated worshippers of the Golden Calf,

Mammon, see the error of their ways and take a back track, me thunk my

chances for the White House would be full as flatterin' as Sisters

WOODHUL, GEORGIANA FRANCIS TRAIN, or any other woman, in '72.

Layin' off my duster, and adjustin' my specturcals, at the appinted

hour, I slung the follerin' extemperaneous remarks at 'em:

My infatuated friends and Goverment Bondmen:

As an ex-statesman which has served his country for 4 years as Gustise

of the Peece, raisin' said offis to a hire standard than usual, to say

nothin' about raisin' an interestin' family of eleven morril an hily

intellectooal children, I rise and git up, ontramelled by any politikle

alliances, to say: that when you fellers git on a mussy fit, like the

old woman who undertook to pick her chickens by runnin' them through a

patent hash cutter, you make the feathers fly, and leave your victims in

a hily clawed up stait.

Perfesser ARKIMIDEES, of Oxford, (and here allow me to stait, so as to

avoid newspaper contraryversy, as in the case of DISRALLY'S novel

Lothere, _I have no refference to_ T. GOLDWIN SMITH _whatsomever_, as I

believe ARKIMIDEES is now dead,) said he could raise the hul earth with

a top section of a rale fence, if he could only find something tangible

to rest his timber on.

My friends, that man had never heerd of Wall Street, and I'de bet all

the money I can borrer on it.

With such a prop as this ere little territory, where games of chance are

"entered into accordin' to the act of Congress," to cote from a familiar

passage in every printed copy of PUNCHINELLO, the Perfesser could have

raised this little hemisfeer quicker than any of you chaps can gobble up

a greenhorn.

And, sirs, I'me sorry to be obliged to speak plain, it would be a darned

site more to your credit if you'd try and raise the earth, instead of

daily usin' Wall Street as a base of operations to raise H----,

well--excuse me, the futer asilum for retired brokers.

How do you manage, when you want to make a steak?

You run up stocks and produce a crysis.

Outsiders rush in lickety smash, and invest all the money they can rake

and scrape, in these inflated stocks. Suddenly you prick the bubble,

when, alas! besides the cry-sis, there's more cry-bubs in and about Wall

Street than there was in Egipt, when NAPOLEON BONAPART chopped off the

heads off all the first born. Instances have been known, where a good

many of you chaps have rammed your head in the Tiger's mouth once too

often.

If my memry serves me correctly, FISKE and GOOLD made you perambulate

off on your eyebrows, last fall, and while the a-4-said Tigers walked

off with the seats of your trowserloons in their teeth, you all jined in

the follerin' him:

Wall Street is all a fleetin' sho',

From which lame ducks are driven,

"Up in a balloon they allers go,

To Tophet, not to Heaven."

Another little dodge of your'n, my misguided friends, is to keel off K.

VANDERBILT.

What did you do t'other day?

Why, when KERNELIUS was engaged in a friendly game of cards for _keeps_,

up at Saratogy, some poor deluded _money_-maniac telegrafs that the

Commodore had at last found his match, and had been gathered to his

fathers. While at the bottom of the dispatch was forged the name of my

friend, KISSLEBURGH, city editor of the _Troy Times_, who, up to the

present time, if this coot knows herself, hain't bin into the hiway

robbin' bizziness, not by a long shot. But, my friends and feller

citizens, old VAN is sharper that a two-edged gimlet.

When he lays down his wallet among a lot of other calf skins, like a

great sponge in a puddle of water, it sucks every square inch of legal

tender, which is in suckin' distance.

For a regler 40 hoss power suction, K. VANDERBILT is your man. I ones

thought I could never take a locker to this 'ere honest old heart, but

as I cast my gaze over this audience, and observe among the Bulls and

Bears, a cuple of Dears, I will retract that, payin' in the follerin'

_Jew de spree_:

Come rest on this buzzum,

Oh! butiful broker,

With your arms clinchin' tite,

This innercent choker.

I'le stand it from thee,

If you'll never go near,

The Bulls and the Bears,

When HIRAM is here.

(This impromtu poetikism, Mr. PUNCHINELLO, kicked up quite a little

breeze, in the midst of which the pretty brokers blushed and looked so

bewitchin' like, that it was enuff to make a feller throw stuns at K.

VANDERBILT if the pretty Dears only wanted him to.)

I agin resoomed:

My infatuated friends; afore I wind up, let me give you a few partin'

words of advice.

Give up this 'ere gamblin' bizziness. When you run up gold it hits the

hul mercantile body of this nation a wipe in the stummuck. A good many

little cubs, as well as a few ole Bears, have been gobbled up by your

confounded efforts at runnin' up gold, while you grin and chuckle like

the laffin' hyena, when ransackin' Navy Yards and whisky distilleries.

But, if you insist on goin' ahead and earnin' your daily peck by

smashin' things and layin' out the onsofisticated, all I have got to say

is, that next time you've got a _sure thing_ to make a speck, by

telegrafin' me at Skeensboro, I won't mind comin' down and takin' a hand

in, if my pocketin' a few hundred thousands will be the means of

betterin' your morrils, by my sharin' your burden. In concloosion,

feller citizens, feelin' in rather a poetical mood to-day, I will close

with the follerin' tribute to Wall Street and its inhabitants:

"Imperious SEIZER, dead, and turned to cla,

Mite stop a hole to keep the wind away;"

Onless from Wall Street, was blowin' raw.

The tempestous breezes, from a broker's flaw.

Amid tumultous cheers, and a general rushin' to DELMONICO'S, where Wall

Street waters her stock, (of lickers,) I sot down.

Ewers, without a dowt,

HIRAM GREEN, Esq.,

_Lait Gustise of the Peece._

* * * * *

Stage By-play.

A sporting paper gives the following item:

"Two nines, composed of members of BOOTH'S, WALLACK'S and the Olympic

theatrical companies, played an interesting game of base-ball at the

Union base-ball grounds, last week."

Imagine Sir HARCOURT COURTLEY batting splendidly to DIEDRICK VAN

BEEKMAN'S pitching; or picture Major DE BOOTS waiting patiently on the

short stop for a chance to put Captain ABSOLUTE out on his second base.

The experience of these gentlemen before the footlights may have made

them light-footed, but from mere force of habit they are all pretty sure

to be caught out in the "flies."

* * * * *

Professional.

"They may talk about nines," said the Doctor, when base-ball was the

subject under discussion. "They may talk about their nines; but I know

of a nine that would lay them all out in double-quick time, and it is

called Strychnine."

* * * * *

A FECULENT NUISANCE.

Persons passing along Nassau Street, between Ann and Beekman Streets,

for some days past, have had their olfactories unpleasantly assailed by

a vile stench. On investigation by officers of the Board of Health, the

foul odor was found to exhale from the premises of 113 Nassau Street.

Further examination disclosed the fact that the nuisance arose from a

quantity of Dead Rabbits deposited on the premises by one JAMES O'BRIEN,

for purposes best known to himself. It is said that the entire concern

is to be handed over to the New York Rendering Company, for conversion

into the kind of tallow used for the manufacture of the cheapest kind of

rush-lights.

* * * * *

The Greatest Joke of the Season.

The idea of nominating JAMES O'BRIEN for the office of Mayor of the City

of New York. But it cannot be called a practical joke.

* * * * *

[Illustration: "IT WAS IN THE CHAMPAGNE COUNTRY THAT LOUIS NAPOLEON CAME

TO GRIEF. THE FIZZ OF THE CHAMPAGNE WAS TOO MUCH FOR HIM, AND HE

FIZZLED."--_(Letter from a War Correspondent.)_]

* * * * *

PUNCHINELLO AS A "SAVANT."

MR. PUNCHINELLO: I have always taken a profound interest in Science.

When a child my fond parents observed in me a decided taste for

Entomology, the wings and legs of butterflies and grasshoppers being the

objects of my special investigation. As a school-boy I obtained (despite

the frequent closing of my visual organs) considerable Insight into

Physical Science in the course of numerous pugilistic encounters. A

close Application to Optics at that time enabled me to get some Light on

the Subject.

I was quite a phenomenon in Astronomy. While yet an unweaned infant I

made numerous observations on the Milky Way, and when learning to walk

frequently saw stars undiscernable with the most powerful telescope.

Since my arrival at man's estate I have frequently experimented on the

Elasticity of the Precious Metals, but have generally found it extremely

difficult to make both ends meet.

Considering, therefore, that I had as just a claim to be called

scientific, as many who pretend to be _Savants_, I determined to attend

the late Scientific Convention at Troy. My reception was most

gratifying. On presenting my credentials to the Convention, that learned

body welcomed me with open arms, and I was escorted to a place among the

members by its distinguished head.

Some of the speculations of these eminent philosophers were exceedingly

profound, and it is really wonderful, Mr. PUNCHINELLO, to what an extent

theory may be carried in the advance of science.

Mr. GOOSEFELT read a learned and original paper--carefully compiled from

various sources--on the Steam Engine, in the course of which he stated

that his great aunt, who had been blown up on the first steamboat that

ever went down in the Mississippi, during the great Earthquake of 1811,

was still living. Also, that his godfather, the celebrated Mr.

NICODEMUS, assisted (probably in the interests of science) in pulling

down the statue of GEORGE III in the Bowling Green. The importance of

these two facts cannot be over-estimated, as they will undoubtedly give

a tremendous impulse to the wheels of science.

Professor GREYWACKE, the eminent Geologist, delivered an address on

Natural Petrifactions, indicating the various specimens of Ancient

Fossils by which he was surrounded, and describing their formation. The

audience was probably Petrified with astonishment at the immense

learning and research he displayed, for it observed a Stony silence,

only interrupted by an occasional snore.

A brilliant paper on the Illuminating Power of Gas was read by Professor

M.T. HEAD. It was a most Luminous production, and proved conclusively

that an immense expenditure of gas sometimes throws very little Light on

any Subject. The Professor is thoroughly versed in Meters, and is the

author of the "Volume of Gas" which has attracted so much attention in

the scientific world.

Professor SUETT addressed the Scientists on the Effect of Tallow upon

Ox(h)ides. From certain experiments made by him it appears that the

Oleaginous principle is incompatible with Water, and unfavorable to the

action of rust.

A member was of the opinion that this important discovery might be

turned to great practical advantage, as the application of cart grease

to rusty iron axles might possibly facilitate the rotary motion of the

wheels.

This novel and valuable suggestion was hailed with shouts of applause,

and the thanks of the Convention were immediately voted to the

distinguished member, whose name I have unfortunately forgotten.

Professor HYDRAGE read an Essay on the Transit of Mercury, which he said

would take place in the form of a Bed Precipitate in 1878. It may

possibly take place before then, however, as the Faculty of Medicine are

said to be rapidly abandoning the use of calomel.

The State Conchologist read an extremely interesting disquisition on the

Oyster, which was divided into sections and literally devoured by the

audience. He also exhibited some Specimens of Conchs, which were regular

Sneezers in point of size.

An announcement which was made by the distinguished Astronomer,

Professor LOONEY, created a most profound sensation.

He stated that with the aid of a powerful telescope he had discovered an

immense Fissure in the Moon. He was quite positive that he had also

observed a Man in the Gap. Although unable to distinguish the features

of this individual, he thought it might possibly be JAMES STEPHENS, the

missing Fenian Head Centre.

When the excitement consequent upon this startling announcement had

subsided, I rose and addressed the Convention as follows:

"Ladies and Gentlemen: I cannot express, in words, the profound

gratification with which I have listened to the learned and eloquent

addresses which have just been delivered. The advancement of Science is

an object which is worthy the efforts of such distinguished _savants_ as

I see around me, and to this object they have brought that profundity of

learning which is only to be gathered from the perusal of elementary

text books, that almost strabismal acuteness of perception which enables

them to descry such great scientific truths as can be discovered through

an orifice in a barn door, and that wonderful power of discrimination

which enables them to distinguish between the seed of the leguminous

plant known as the bean, and the other vegetable productions of Nature,

when the bag is open.

As an humble member of the Brotherhood of Science, I desire to

contribute, in however insignificant a degree, to the Great Cause of

Learning. I will therefore, with Your Permission, read" (loud cries of

'No! No!' 'Put him out!' etc., to which of course I paid no attention,)

"the following papers: 'An Inquiry as to Whether Diptheria has anything

to do with the Migration of the Swallow,' 'On the possibility of

straightening the curve of the African Shin Bone.' 'On Marine Plants and

Deep Sea Currents.' 'On the Laws of Mechanics, with observations on the

Mechanic's Lien Law and the By-Laws of Trades Unions.' 'Some Reflections

on Reflection.' 'The Connection between Mathematics and Versification,

as illustrated by LOGARHYTHMS.' 'Minute Experiments with the

Hour-Glass,' and 'Important Speculations on the Sea Changes.'"

I proceeded to read the first of the above named papers, but before I

had got very far, Mr. PUNCHINELLO, I was interrupted by a peculiar

sound, which I at first took for subdued applause, but which, on

investigation, I found proceeded from the noses of the audience. In

short, Mr. P., both audience and Convention were in a profound slumber.

Considerably mortified, I withdrew in silence. I am determined, however,

that my theses shall not be lost to posterity. I intend to have them

published, and to send you a copy of each.

Profoundly yours,

CHINCAPIN.

* * * * *

Pearing Time.

We learn that "some of the pear trees in Suffolk County are now in

blossom." Surely such a season as this one for pears has never before

been seen. Who knows but the fact may induce SUSAN B. ANTHONY to go

pairing with some Revolutionary bachelor?

* * * * *

INDEX

About a Clock

Advice to Picnic Parties

Aerated Verbiage

Agricultural Column, Our

Albany Cock Robins

Allurements of the Period

All Aboard for Holland

All Hail

American Cutlery in France

Answers to Correspondents

Arrah, What Does He Mane, at All?

Astronomical Conversations

Associated Press Telegrams

Augean Job, An

Ballad of Capt. Eyre, The

Bachelor's Moving Day, The

Bad "Odor" in the West

Ballad of the Good Litttle Boy aged ten

"Behold how Pleasant a Thing," &c.

Beautiful Snow

Bit of Natural History, A

Bird of Wisdom in Iowa, The

Bingham on Rome

Blocks and Blockheads

Book Notices

Boyhood

Bow-Wow!

Broadbrim to Aborigine

Business

By George

Cause and Effect

Captain Hall, To

Cable News

Caution

Cats, On

Card of Thanks, A

Chat about Railroads, A

Chance for our Organ Grinders, A

Charge of the Ninth Brigade

Chinopathy

China Pattern, A

Chincapin at Long Branch

Chincapin among the Free Lovers

Church Militant

Cincinnatus Sweeny

Condensed Congress

Colonel Fisk's Soliloquy

Cons, by a Wrecker

Comic Zoology

Congressman to his Critics, A

Consistent League, A

Coup d'etat, My

Correspondence Bureau

Contemporary Sentiments

Conversion of the "_Sun_"

Cool, if not Comfortable

Colored Troopa Fought Nobly, The

Criticism of the Period

Critical Intelligence

Crispin _vs_. Coolie

Current Tables

CARTOONS--March 4, 1869--March 4, 1870

Our Efficient Navy Department

The Descent of the great Massachusetts Frog upon the Newspaper Flies

The Great National Game

Financial Belief

The Sick Eagle

The Financial Inquisition

Editorial Washing Day in New York

The New Plea for Murder

International Yachting

The Wedding Ring as Sorosis would like to see it

The Blood Money

"What I Know About Farming"

The Wedding Ring again

Modern Matrimony

Yan-ki _vs_. Yankee

The New Pandora's Box

Lncifer's Little Game with his Royal Puppets

Death of the "Entente Cordial"

Wonderful Tour de Force

The Ovation of Murder

Law _versus_ Lawlessness

What Will He Do With It?

At the Saratoga Convention

Humpty Dumpty

Depressions for Chicago

Delights of Dougherty, The

Desultory Hints and Maxims for Anglers

Distinguished Visitor, A

Dorgs, On

Dogs Tale, A

Down the Bay

Drainage under Difficulties

Dreadful State of Things out West, The

Dubious English

Dwarf Dejected, The

Earthly Paradise

Editorial Washing Day

Elevated Statesmanship

England's Quandry

Episode of Jack Horner

Excellent Old Song Made New, An

Excelsior

Fable

Ferocity of Failure, The

Female Gentleman, The

Fifteenth Amendment

Finances, On the

Fish Sauce

Fine Arts in Philadelphia

Fiscalities

Fish Culture

Fishery Question, The

Financial

Financial Article, Our

Four Seasons, The

Forty-four to Fourteen

Foreign Correspondence

Foam

Free Baths, The

From an Anxious Mother to her Daughter

Fun and Fin

Gay Young Joker, A

George Francis the Ubiquitous

Glimpses of Fortune

Gossip in a School-house

Good for Something Better

Gravestones For Sale

Grant's Blackbird pie

Greeley's Aid to Literary Effort

Greeley on Bailey

Great Canal Enterprise, The

Great African Tea Company, The

Greek Meeting Greek

Habits of Great Men

Hamlet from a Rural Point

Hall and Hayes

H. G. and Terpsichore

Hints for the Family

High and Low Church

Hints upon High Art

Hints to Car Conductors

Hints for Those Who Will Take Them

Hints for the Census

High Notes by our Musical Critic

Hiram Green at Saratoga

Hiram Green at the Tower of Babel

Hiram Green on the Chinese

Hiram Green Experience as an Editor

Hiram Green writes to Napoleon

Hiram Green on Jersey Musquitoes

Hiram Green at the Female Convention

Hiram Green on Base Ball

Hiram Green among the Fat men

Hiram Green to Napoleon

Hiram Green in Wall Street

How a Disciple of Fox Became a Lover of Bull

Horticultural Hints

Holy-Grail, and other Poems, The

Homodeification

Hyperborean

Idiomatic Items

Important to Publishers

Indian, The

Interesting to Bone Boilers

Interior Illumination

Indian Question, The

Information Wanted

Inspiration vs. Perspiration

Items from our Rural Reporters

Joys of Summer, The

Jottings from Washington

Jumbles

Jupiter Bellicosus

Kellogg Testimonials, The

King Oakey, the First

King Craft Looking Up

Latest from Washington