"Oh, take me home, at once, please!" begged FLORA, alarmed a

Produced by Cornell University, Joshua Hutchinson, Sandra

Brown and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.

[Illustration: Vol. I. No. 20.]

PUNCHINELLO

SATURDAY, AUGUST 13, 1870.

PUBLISHED BY THE

PUNCHINELLO PUBLISHING COMPANY,

83 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK.

* * * * *

THE MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD,

By ORPHEUS C. KERR,

Continued in this Number.

[Sidenote: See 15th Page for Extra Premiums.]

* * * * *

CONANT'S

PATENT BINDERS

For

"PUNCHINELLO,"

to preserve the paper for binding, will be sent postpaid, on

receipt of One Dollar, by

PUNCHINELLO PUBLISHING CO.,

83 Nassau Street, New York City.

* * * * *

J. M. SPRAGUE

Is the Authorized Agent of

"PUNCHINELLO"

For the

New England States,

To Procure Subscriptions, and to Employ Canvassers.

* * * * *

HARRISON BRADFORD & CO'S

STEEL PENS.

These Pens are of a finer quality, more durable, and

cheaper than any other Pen in the market, Special attention

is called to the following grades, as being better suited

for business purposes than any Pen manufactured. The

"505," "22," and the "ANTI-CORROSIVE,"

we recommend for Bank and Office use.

D. APPLETON & CO.,

Sole Agents for United States

* * * * *

APPLICATIONS FOR ADVERTISING IN

"PUNCHINELLO"

SHOULD BE ADDRESSED TO

J. NICKINSON,

ROOM No. 4,

No. 83 Nassau Street.

* * * * *

CHARLES C. CHATFIELD & CO.,

NEW HAVEN, CONN.,

HAVE JUST PUBLISHED

"THE AMERICAN COLLEGES AND

THE AMERICAN PUBLIC,"

BY

PROF. NOAH PORTER, D. D., OF YALE COLLEGE.

OPINIONS OF THE BOOK.

"I have read it with very deep interest."--PRESIDENT MCCOSH, PRINCETON.

"An excellent and valuable work."--PRESIDENT CUMMINGS, WESLEYAN

UNIVERSITY. "Able and just presentations of our colleges to the

public."--PRESIDENT ANDERSON, ROCHESTER UNIVERSITY. "The discussion is

not only very reasonable, but thorough, comprehensive and

wise."--PRESIDENT BROWN, HAMILTON COLLEGE.

"An able and scholarly review of the system of instruction pursued in our

American Colleges."--PROF. FRANCIS BOWEN, HARVARD.

"Unique, profound, discriminating."--PROF. L. H. ATWATER, PRINCETON.

"The best book ever published on this subject of collegiate

education."--SPRINGFIELD REPUBLICAN.

-->The book contains 285 pages, is printed on a fine quality of tinted

paper, is handsomely bound, and is sold by all booksellers for $1.50, and

sent for the same (postage paid) to any address, by the publishers.

* * * * *

NEW COLLECTION OF YALE SONGS.

Just Published.

SONGS OF YALE.--A new Collection of the Songs of Yale, with Music. Edited

by CHARLES S. ELLIOT, Class of 1867.--16mo, 126 pages. Price in extra

cloth, $1.00; in super extra cloth, beveled boards, tinted paper, gilt

edges, $1.50

* * * * *

UNIVERSITY SERIES.

_Educational and Scientific Lectures, Addresses and Essays, brought out

in neat pamphlet form, of uniform style and price._

I.--"ON THE PHYSICAL BASIS OF LIFE." By Prof. T. H. HUXLEY, LL. D.,

F. R. S. With an Introduction by a Professor in Yale College. 12mo,

pp. 36. Price 25 cents.

The interest of Americans in this lecture by Professor HUXLEY can be

judged from the great demand for it; the fifth thousand is now being

sold.

II.--THE CORRELATION OF VITAL AND PHYSICAL FORCES. By Prof. GEORGE F.

BARKER, M. D., of Yale College. A Lecture delivered before Am. Inst.,

N.Y. Pp. 36. Price 25 cts.

"Though this is a question of cold science, the author handles it with

ability, and invests it with interest. A series of notes appended is

valuable as a reference to works quoted."--Prov. (R. I.) PRESS.

III.--AS REGARDS PROTOPLASM, in Relation to Prof. HUXLEY'S Physical Basis

of Life. By J. HUTCHINSON STIRLING, F. R. C. S. Pp. 72. Price 26 cents.

By far the ablest reply to Prof. HUXLEY which has been written.

Other valuable Lectures and Essays will soon be published in this series.

Address:

CHARLES C. CHATFIELD & CO.,

NO. 460 CHAPEL STREET, NEW HAVEN, CONN.

* * * * *

J. NICKINSON

begs to announce to the friends of

"PUNCHINELLO,"

residing in the country, that, for their convenience, he has made

arrangements by which, on receipt of the price of

ANY STANDARD BOOK PUBLISHED,

the same will be forwarded, postage paid.

Parties desiring Catalogues of any of our Publishing Houses can have

the same forwarded by inclosing two stamps.

OFFICE OF

PUNCHINELLO PUBLISHING CO.,

83 Nassau Street

P.O. Box 2783.]

* * * * *

TO NEWS-DEALERS.

PUNCHINELLO'S MONTHLY.

The Weekly Numbers for July,

BOUND IN A HANDSOME COVER,

Is now ready. Price Fifty Cents.

THE TRADE

Supplied by the

AMERICAN NEWS COMPANY,

Who are now prepared to receive Orders.

* * * * *

WEVILL & HAMMAR,

Wood Engravers,

208 BROADWAY,

NEW YORK.

* * * * *

Bowling Green Savings-Bank

33 BROADWAY,

NEW YORK.

Open Every Day from 10 A.M. to 3 P.M.

_Deposits of any sum, from Ten Cents to Ten Thousand

Dollars, will be received._

Six per Cent interest, Free of Government Tax.

INTEREST ON NEW DEPOSITS

Commences on the First of every Month.

HENRY SMITH, _President_

REEVES E. SELMES, _Secretary._

WALTER ROCHE, } _Vice-Presidents._

EDWARD HOGAN, }

* * * * *

NEWS DEALERS

ON

RAILROADS,

STEAMBOATS,

And at

WATERING PLACES,

Will find the Monthly Numbers of

"PUNCHINELLO"

For April, May, June, and July, an attractive and

Saleable Work.

Single Copies Price 50 cts.

For trade price address American News Co., or

PUNCHINELLO PUBLISHING CO.,

83 Nassau Street.

* * * * *

FORST & AVERELL

Steam, Lithograph, and Letter Press

PRINTERS,

EMBOSSERS, ENGRAVERS, AND LABEL MANUFACTURERS.

Sketches and Estimates furnished upon application.

23 Platt Street, and

[P.O. Box 2845.] 20-22 Gold Street,

NEW YORK.

* * * * *

FOLEY'S

GOLD PENS.

THE BEST AND CHEAPEST.

256 BROADWAY.

* * * * *

$2 to ALBANY and TROY.

The Day Line Steamboats C. Vibbard and Daniel Drew, commencing May 31,

will leave Vestry st. Pier at 8:45, and Thirty-fourth st. at 9 a.m.,

landing at Yonkers, (Nyack, and Tarrytown by ferry-boat), Cozzens, West

Point, Cornwall, Newburgh, Poughkeepsie, Rhinebeck, Bristol, Catskill,

Hudson, and New-Baltimore. A special train of broad-gauge cars in

connection with the day boats will leave on arrival at Albany

(commencing June 20) for Sharon Springs. Fare $4.25 from New York and

for Cherry Valley. The Steamboat Seneca will transfer passengers from

Albany to Troy.

* * * * *

ESTABLISHED 1866.

JAS R. NICHOLS., M. D. } Editors

WM. J. ROLFE. A. M. }

BOSTON JOURNAL OF CHEMISTRY.

Devoted to the Science of

HOME LIFE,

The Arts, Agriculture, and Medicine.

$1.00 Per Year

_Journal and Punchinello (without Premium) $4.00._

SEND FOR SPECIMEN-COPY,

Address--JOURNAL OF CHEMISTRY,

130 CONGRESS STREET, BOSTON.

* * * * *

HENRY L. STEPHENS,

ARTIST,

No. 160 FULTON STREET,

NEW YORK.

* * * * *

GEO. B. BOWLEND,

Draughtsman & Designer

No. 160 Fulton Street,

Room No. 11, NEW YORK.

* * * * *

THE MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD.

AN ADAPTATION.

BY ORPHEUS C. KERR.

CHAPTER XII.

FOR THE BEST.

Miss CAROWTHERS'S educational hotbed of female innocence was about to

undergo desolation by the temporary dispersal of its intellectual buds

and blossoms to their native soils, therefrom to fill home-atmospheres

with the mental fragrance of "all the branches." Holiday Week drew near,

when, as Miss CAROWTHERS Ritually expressed it, "all who were true

believers of the American Church of England in their hearts would softly

celebrate the devout Yearly Festival of Apostolic Christianity, by

decking the Only True Church with symbolical evergreens over places

where the paint was scratched off, and receiving New Year's Calls

without intoxicating liquors." In honor of this approaching solemn

season of peace on earth, good will to young men, the discipline of

Macassar Female College was slightly relaxed: Bible-studies were no

longer rigorously inflicted as a punishment for criminal absence of all

punctuation from English Composition, and any Young Lady whose father

was good pay could actually sneeze in her teacup without being locked

into her own room on bread-and-water until she was truly penitent for

her sin and wished she was a Christian. Consequently, an air of unusual

license pervaded the Alms-House; woman's rights meetings were held at

the heads of stairways to declare, that, whereas MARY AMANDA PARKINSON'S

male second-cousin has promised to meet her at the railroad station, and

thereby made her pretend to us that the letter was from her father, when

all the time ANN LOUISA BAKER accidentally caught sight of the words "My

Precious MOLLY" while looking for her scissors in the wrong drawer, and

therefore, be it Resolved, that we wish he knew about one shoulder being

a little higher than the other, (as she _knows_ the dressmaker told

her,) and about that one red whisker under the left hand corner of her

chin which she might as well stop trying to keep cut off; dark

assemblages resembling walking lobsters were convened in special

dormitories at night, to compare brothers and tell how they Byronically

said that they never should care for women again after what they had

sacrificed for them in the horse-cars without so much as a "Thank you,

sir," but if they ever _could_ be brought to liking a girl now, it would

be on account of her not pretending to care for anything but money and a

husband's early grave; and very white parties of pleasure were organized

in the halls, at ghostly hours, to go down to the cupboard for a

mince-pie under pretense of hearing burglars, and subsequently to drink

the mince-pie from curl-papers, accompanied by whispers of "H'sh! don't

eat the crust so loud, or Miss CAROWTHERS 'll think it's a man."

In addition to these signs of impending freedom, trunks were packed in

the rooms, with an adeptness of getting in things with springs twice as

wide as any trunk, and of laying cologne-bottles, fans, and brushes,

between objects with ruffles so as to perfectly protect the latter, that

would have put the most conceited old bachelor to shame. Affected

tenderly by thoughts of a separation which, so ridiculously uncertain is

human life, might be forever, the young ladies who couldn't bear each

other, and had been quite sorry for each other because she couldn't help

it with such a natural disposition and rough forehead as hers, poor

thing!--graciously made-up with each other, in case they should not meet

again until in Heaven.--You will not think any more, HENRIETTA

TOMLINSON, of what I told you about AUGUSTUS SMITH'S remarks to me that

Sunday coming out of chapel. I _didn't_ let you know before, my dear,

but when he had the impudence to say that one of your eyebrows was

longer than the other, and that you had a sleepy look as though a little

more in the upper-story wouldn't hurt you, I stood up for you, and told

him he ought to be ashamed to talk so on Sunday about you, after you'd

taken such pains to please him. That's just all there was about that

whole thing, HENRIETTA, dear, and now I hope we may part friends.--Why

_shouldn't_ we, MARTHA JENKINS? I'm sure _I've_ never been the one to be

unfriendly, and when Mr. SMITH told _me_, that he guessed my friend Miss

JENKINS didn't know how much she walked like a camel, I was as sarcastic

as I could be, and said I didn't know before that _gentlemen_ ever made

_fun_ of natural deformities.--Yes, HENRIETTA, my love, I know how

you've _always,_ te-he! spoken well of _everybody_ behind their backs.

Gentlemen give _you_ their confidence as soon as they see you, without a

_bit_ of fishing for it on _your_ part, and then you have a chance to

befriend your poor friends.--Oh, well, MARTHA, darling, there's no need

of your getting provoked because I wouldn't hear you called a camel--he!

he!--after you'd been so angelic with him about stepping on the middle

back-breadth of your poplin--"Oh, _never_ mind it at _all-l_, Mayistah

SA-MITH; it's of _No-o_ consequence!" Te-he-he-he! When _is_ it to come

off, Miss TOMLINSON? When does your AUGUSTUS finally reward your

_perseverance_ with his big red hand?--I haven't asked him yet,

Precious! out of regard for your feelings. He's _so_ sensitive about

having any one think he's _jilted_ her; quite ridiculous, I tell

him.--HENRIETTA TOMLINSON! you--you'd get on your _knees_ to make a man

look at you: EVERYbody says _that!_--But then, you know, MARTHA JENKINS,

there are persons who wouldn't be looked at much, even if they did go on

their knees for it, _lovey_.--M'm'm! Ph'h'h! Please keep by your _own_

trunk, HENRIETTA. I don't want anything _stolen,_ Miss!--He! he! Of

course I'll go, MARTHA. There's so _much_ danger of my stealing your old

rags!--_Don't_ provoke me to slap you, Miss!--Who are _you_ pushing

against, _Camel?_--Aow-aouw-k!--Ah-h-h!--R-r-r-r'p, sl'p, p'l-'l Miss

CROWTHERS' coming!!----And thus to usher in the merry, merry Christmas

time of peace on earth, good will to young men.

At noon on the Saturday preceding Holiday-Week, Miss CAROWTHERS,

assisted by her adjutant, Mrs. PILLSBURY, had a Reception in the

Cackleorium, when emaciated lemonade and tenacious gingerbread were

passed around, and the serene conqueror of Breachy, Mr. BLODGETT,

addressed the assembled sweetness. Ladies, the wheel of Time, who, you

know, is usually represented as a venerable man of Jewish aspect with a

scythe, had brought around once more a festival appealing to all the

finer feelings of our imperfect nature. Throbbed there a heart in any of

our bos-hem!--in any of the superstructures of our waists, that did not

respond with joy and gladness to the sentiment of such a season? In view

of Christmas, Ladies, did we say, in the words of--an acceptable

Ritualistic translation from the Breviary--

"Day of vengeance, without morrow,

Earth shall end in flame and sorrow,

As from saint and seer we borrow?"

No; that was not our style. We saw in Christmas a happy time to forgive

all our friends, to forget all our enemies at the groaning board, and to

keep on remembering the poor. Might we find all our relatives well in

the homes we were about to revisit, and ready to liquidate our little

semi-annual expenses of tuition. Might we find neighborhoods willing to

take the resumption of piano-practicing in the forgiving spirit of the

Christmas-time, and to accept the singing of Italian airs, at late

hours, with the tops of windows down, as occurrences not to be profanely

criticized in sleepless beds at a time of year when all animosities

should be repressed. With love for all mankind, Ladies, where it was

strictly proper, we would now separate until after the Holidays, wishing

each other a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Then ensued

leave-takings all around; terminating with a delicate consciousness on

the part of each young lady present that she was not to be entirely

without escort on her way to her home, inasmuch as there was a BILL

prepared to go with her and be presented to her parents.

A number of times had FLORA POTTS witnessed this usual breaking up,

without any other sensation at herself being left behind in the

Alms-House than one of relief from incessant attempts of dearest friends

to find out what Mr. E. DROOD wrote about longing to clasp her again, in

his last; and on this occasion she came near being really happy in

having her dear MAGNOLIA PENDRAGON to remain with her. MAGNOLIA had

never mentioned EDWIN'S name since the virtual compact between herself,

and her brother, and Mr. SIMPSON, on the Pond shore; which was, perhaps,

carrying woman's friendship rather too far to the other extreme:--she

might as least have said, "Are you thinking of something commencing with

a D.?" once in a while:--but the Flowerpot, while slightly wondering, of

course, found a pleasant change in a companion of her own sex and age

who was not always raising the D. in conversation.

A lovely scene was it, and maddening to masculine imagination, when so

many of Miss POTTS'S blooming young schoolmates kissed her good-bye in

the porch, and gave her a last chance to tell them what he _had_

written, then. It was charming to see that willed-away little creature,

without her enamel, waving farewell to the stages departing for the

ferry; and to hear the disappearing ones calling out to her: "By-bye,

FLORA, dear; EDDY ought to see you now with your natural complexion."

"_Au revoir_, Pet You'd better hurry in now; here comes a man!"

"Don't stay out in the sun for us, Darling, or the belladonna may lose

its effect."

Oh, rosebud-garden of girls! Oh, fresh young blossoms, to which we of

the male and cabbage growth are as cheap vegetables! Cling together

while ye may in the fair bouquet of sweet school friendship, of musical

parlor-sisterhood. So shall your thorns be known only to each other in

such fragrant clustering, and never known at all to Men unless they

insensately persist in giving you their hands.

While the Flowerpot was thus receiving fond good-byes, EDWIN DROOD, on

his way to see her, suffered an indecision of purpose which might have

bred disquiet in a more gigantic mind than his. With the package

containing the memorial stay-lace in one pocket, and his hands in two

others, he strode up the Bumsteadville turnpike in a light overcoat and

a brown study. But for good Mr. DIBBLE'S undeniably truthful picture of

a modern lover's actual situation, he might have allowed matters to go

as they would, and sunk into an early marriage without one prayer to

Heaven for mercy. Now, however, that picture troubled him even more than

the bump which he had got upon his head from the tilting table in the

lawyer's office, and he was disposed to send the stay-lace back to the

candid old man. "FLORA and I have about equal intellects," reasoned he

to himself. "Shall I leave the whole question to her, or my own

decision! One would be about as profound in wisdom as the other. Which?

I guess I'll toss-up for it."

He stepped aside from the road, under a leafless tree, and drew from a

pocket a badly speckled nickel coin. "Heads for her, tails for me," he

said, with some awe in his tone. The tasteful coin was tossed, and

"Heads" stared up at him from the frozen ground. "It's her inning," he

muttered, and, re-pocketing the money and his hands, went on whistling.

Thus the great crises of our laborious human lives are settled by the

idle inspiration of a moment, and fate, for good, or evil, comes as it

is cent.

The Flowerpot, expecting him, was ready in her walking dress, and, by

tacit permission of Miss CAROWTHERS, the two started upon a promenade

for the nearest confidential cross-road, each eating half of an apple

which Mr. DROOD had brought to disguise his feelings.

"My dear, absurd EDDY," said FLORA, when they had arrived in a secluded

lane not far from St. Cow's Church, "I want to give you something very

serious, and oh! I'm so ridiculously nervous about doing so,--especially

after your giving me this apple."

"Never mind the apple, FLORA. It was the fruit of our First Parents, and

has constituted the most available pie of the poor ever since. Don't

allow it to fetter your freedom of speech, and please try to eat it

without such a gashing noise."

"Thank you, EDDY. You have always been liberal with me. And now are you

sure you won't be absurdly angry with me if I give you something?"

He fell away from her a moment, as half anticipating a kiss, but

promised that he would restrain his temper.

"Then here you are, EDDY;" and she drew from a pocket in her dress and

held out to him a small worsted mitten.

"You give this to me?" he said, accepting it, and tossing it from one

hand to the other, as though it were something hot.

"Yes, dear, ridiculous friend; and from this day forth let us give up

the cold indifference of people engaged to each other, and be as truly

affectionate as brother and sister."

"Never get married?"

"Not to each other."

Under the ecstatic influence of the moment, the emancipated young

bondman began dancing and turning somersaults like one possessed but,

quickly remembering himself, hastened to regain a perpendicular position

at her side, and coughed energetically, as though, the recent gymnastics

had been prescribed for his cold.

"My own sister!" he exclaimed, "a weight is now lifted from both of our

minds, and both of us should be the better for the lifting-cure It is

noble in you to let me off so."

"And it's perfectly splendid in you, EDDY, to make no horrid fuss about

it."

The beautiful contest of generosities between these two young souls made

each as tender toward the other as though the parents of both had been

alive and frantically opposed to their mutual attachment.

"We are both sorry that we have ever had any absurd engagement between

us," said FLORA, with a manner of exquisite softness, "and now, that we

are like brother and sister, we need not be all the time playing the

Pretty with each other, and needn't be putting on our best things every

time we have to meet. You think that my hair always curls in this way,

don't you, EDDY?"

"Why, you don't mean to say, FLORA, that it's _all_--"

"--False? No, you absurd thing! But curling irons, and oil, and crimping

pins have to be used hours and hours."

"Ha! ha!" laughed EDWIN DROOD, "I see the point; you've had to make-up

for me. Now I dare say that you have thought my boots, which I have worn

in your company, were the right size for me? They're really one and a

half sizes too small, and almost kill me. As for gloves, I never wear

any at all except when I come to see you."

"And my complexion, dear brother?"

"Oh, I know all about that, darling sister. I couldn't find any fault

with _that_, so long as my own seal-ring, which you thought so

rich-looking, was only plated."

The little creature burst into a laugh of delight, and pressed his arm

with sisterly enthusiasm. "And we can be perfectly honest with each

other; can't we, EDDY? As a partnership for life until death should us

part is no longer our object, we have no need to utterly deceive each

other in everything."

"No," answered the equally happy young man; "as we're not trying to

marry now, we may as well drop the swindle."

"And just suppose we'd gone on and got married," cried the Flowerpot

with dancing eyes. "When it was too late, you'd have found out what I

really was--"

"And you'd have found _me_ out," interrupted EDWIN, vivaciously.

"I should have wanted more expenditure upon myself, for giving me my

proper place in society, than you, with your limited means, could have

possibly afforded.--"

"And I should have told you it would ruin me--"

"And that would have made me more disappointed in you than ever, and

provoked me to call you a pauper-monster.--"

"And then I would have twitted you about being anything but an heiress

yourself when I married you--"

"--Which would have thrown me into hysterics--"

"--Which would have made _me_ lock you up in your room, and leave the

house--"

"--For which _I_ would have sued you for an Indiana divorce--"

"--Thus driving _me_ to commit suicide--"

--"And bringing myself under a cruel public prejudice seriously

detrimental to my future prospects."

Gloriously excited and made nearly breathless by their friendly rivalry

in thus specifying what must have been the successive results of their

union without plenty of money, the animated pair panted at each other in

a kind of imaginative intoxication, and then shook hands almost

deliriously.

In a moment after, however, Mr. DROOD thrust his hands into his pockets

and presented an aspect of sudden discomfiture.

"I forgot about my uncle, JACK BUMSTEAD," he said, uneasily. "It will be

a dreadful blow for JACK: he's counted so much upon my having a wife for

him to flirt with.--There he is, now!"

"_Where_?"

"Amongst those trees down there--Look!"

In a small grove, skirting the road some distance behind them, Mr.

BUMSTEAD could indeed be seen, dodging wildly from one tree to another

in an extraordinary manner, and occasionally leaping high in the air and

slashing excitedly around him with his alpaca umbrella. A hoop from a

barrel, possibly cast out upon the road by somebody, had, apparently,

become entangled around the legs and in the coat-tails of the

Ritualistic organist; and he, in his extreme nervous sensibility,

precipitately mistaking it for one of his old enemies, the snakes, had

evidently fled headlong with it as far as the grove, and was there

engaging it in frantic single-combat.

"Oh, take me home, at once, please!" begged FLORA, alarmed at the

remarkable sight.

"Poor dear old fellow!" exclaimed her companion, obediently hurrying

onward with her, "I shall never have the heart to tell him of our

separation, and must leave it to your guardian. He'll think he's been

the cause of it, by stealing your heart from me.--Here he comes!"

They had barely time to conceal themselves in the Macassar porch, when,

with umbrella in full play, and the barrel-hoop half-way up to his

waist, Mr. BUMSTEAD came bounding along the turnpike with frenzied

agility. "Shoo! 'S'cat, you viper! Get out!" cried he; and stopped, with

an unearthly culminating scream of terror, immediately in front of the

Alms-House, where the hoop suddenly fell at his feet. A moment he beat

his fallen enemy with the umbrella, as though madly striving to actually

hammer it into the earth; then, as suddenly, suspended his attack,

stooped low to eye his victim more closely, and, with a fierce pounce,

had it in his grasp. "Was it only thisss?" he hissed, holding it at

arm's length: "Sold again: signed, J. BUMSTEAD." And, hanging it over

his umbrella, he stalked moodily onward.

"What a struggle his whole lonely life is!" said EDWIN DROOD, coming out

from the porch.

FLORA'S parting look, as she entered the door, was as though she had

said, "Oh! don't you understand?" But the young man went away

unconscious of its meaning.

(_To be Continued_.)

* * * * *

[Illustration: "THE NEXT THING TO IT."

SCENE--NORTH ADAMS.

_Butcher, (who is not quite prepared for the new order of things, to

Chinese delegation:)_ "WELL, WE'RE JUST OUT OF DOG, BUT WE'VE SOME

FIRST-RATE SAUSAGES."]

* * * * *

A SEASONABLE PARODY.

Three women went waddling out into the surf,

Out into the surf at Newport town;

Each wore a bath suit of the very best,

Costing as much as a wedding-gown.

For men must work, and women must lave,

And what men earn their wives don't save,

Though husbands they be moaning.

Three brokers sat up at three high desks,

And balanced their books as the sun went down;

Each "poring" o'er ledgers that wouldn't come straight,

Each wrapped in a study disgustingly brown.

For men must sweat, and women keep cool,

And woman will ever be fashion's fool,

Though husbands they be moaning.

Three names are struck from the Gold Board's books,

Three brokers' sign-boards are taken down;

Three men are busy "seeing their friends,"

Borrowing money to get out of town.

For men must break if women must waste,

And it costs a deal to be "people of taste,"

So good-bye to the fools and their moaning.

* * * * *

OUR PORTFOLIO.

DEAR PUNCHINELLO: You may have heard of a slight breeze recently

stirring at the Custom House, consequent upon the removal of Mr.

GRINNELL and the appointment of the Hon. THOMAS MURPHY. The savage

feelings which this event aroused have sufficiently subsided to allow a

plain statement of the causes which led to it. At the time, it was the

opinion of many that our worthy Chief Magistrate, convinced that things

were getting along too smoothly in this State, had determined to infuse

new life into both men and measures here. He didn't find it such a hard

job "infusing" the measures, but when he came to the men all the usual

machinery failed, and he had to get out a new patent battering-ram to

wake them up. Such, I say, at least, was the popular impression,

confirmed by the subsequent appearance of the persons against whom its

operations were directed; but the initiated knew better. A few months

ago a private commission, whose expenses were defrayed out of the Secret

Service Fund, was sent to California to explore the region thereabouts

for any hitherto undiscovered connection of the GRANT genealogical tree.

For a long time the search was in vain, but finally the commission

unearthed a chap in the mining district, who hadn't heard of LEE'S

surrender yet, but whose sister had married a nephew of Mrs. GRANT'S

brother-in-law. The poor fellow was promptly captured, combed and

curried, and shipped East via Pacific Railroad, with a label across his

back inscribed,

"Care of HIS EXCELLENCY, U. S. GRANT,

C.O.D."

_Washington, D.C._

On his arrival the express charges were duly paid, and he was billeted

at the White House, while orders were sent to the heads of the different

departments to report what vacancies existed. Brief replies were

returned from each, to the effect that another straw laid on the camel's

back would break it, and, moved by a constitutional antipathy to

breaking camel's backs, the President desisted from his efforts in those

quarters. In this dilemma, the usual recourse was had to the New York

Custom House, and Mr. GRINNELL was sounded as to what he could do for

the last of the GRANTS. This is what he wrote:

"Not even standing-room left. I have more branches of your genealogical

tree now than would serve to thatch the Capitol. The federal turkey at

this port is stuffed to bursting. You may think that the old Exchange

Building, which we now occupy, is a secure building, and so it is, but I

don't think it could hold me if another 'connection' is coming. My blue

book divides these family contributions to the service of the country

into three orders, viz.: 'GRANT,' 'DENT,' and 'SHARPE.' Of the order

'GRANT' I have fifteen in the cellar, forty-seven on the first and

second floors, and ten in the attic; of the order 'DENT, 'nineteen on

the two floors, seven in the attic, and seventeen in the cellar, and of

the order 'SHARPE,' so many that I have engaged the Lightning Calculator

of the _World_ to compute them. Your Excellency will perceive that my

situation is something like that of a commander who is troubled with too

many officers, and if I should be attacked you will Grant that it would

take some pretty Sharp practice to make even a Dent in the armor of my

adversary.

"The best I can do is to request you to authorize the creation of a new

office, such as Supervision of Custom House Cobwebs, Keeper of the Water

Tanks, or Statistician of Distilled Spirits consumed by Revenue Officers

during the ensuing fiscal year, and then, on condition that he will

never show his face in my office again, I will appoint your California

offering to the place.

Your disgusted friend and servant,

MOSES."

When the President read this epistle, he was so agitated that he put the

lighted end of his segar in his mouth, but did not discover his mistake

until Secretary FISH observed the ashes coming from his nose, and with

an air of mock solicitude asked:

"Does your Excellency experience any internal symptoms of a volcanic

character, for I perceive that the crater is working?" pointing to the

Presidential olfactory, while the owner sneezed a fresh volley of ashes

through it.

"It don't make any difference if I do," tartly responded ULYSSES, "but I

tell you what it is, FISH, I'm going to build a little volcano under

MOSE GRINNELL'S chair that'll 'hist' _somebody_ when it breaks out."

Saying which he threw the late Collector's missive towards the

piscatorial premier, and hurriedly left the room.

The above is a genuine narrative, collected from authoritative data, and

may be relied upon when all other means of ascertaining the truth fail.

Yours, historically,

DICK TINTO.

* * * * *

THE WATERING PLACES.

PUNCHINELLO'S VACATIONS.

On the portico of the Mountain House, in the Catskills, Mr. PUNCHINELLO

had the honor of being welcomed by Prof. AGASSIZ, Mr. P. had just

arrived, and his valise was in his hand; but the Professor insisted on a

little conversation with him.

"In spite of the crowds at these summer resorts," said this learned man,

"one seldom meets with any one who takes an interest in science."

Mr. P. bowed, and mentally resolved to rub up his stock of

polytechnology for the occasion.

"I am glad, Mr. PUNCHINELLO," continued the Professor, "that you have

not neglected science in your excellent journal. You have had some

admirable treatises on natural history. The country is your debtor,

sir."

Mr. P. bowed again, and hoped, in his inmost heart, that the country

would soon pay up.

"I must admit that I am disappointed here--in several ways. In the first

place, I have not found a single glacier."

"No glaciers!" cried Mr. P., in surprise.

"No sir, not one, and I can find no sign of the Triassic period."

"Oh no!" said Mr. P. "Not now. That was several years ago, when GEORGE

FRANCIS TRAIN, COLORADO JEWETT, and DAN RICE's celebrated little donkey

were here. They're all gone now."

The Professor looked up a little surprised at these remarks, but went on

with his complaints. "And not a trace of cleavable pyroxene," said he.

"Pie rock!" said Mr. P. to himself. "I'm glad it isn't seen. Have these

geologists got to that?"

"I hoped, too," continued the Professor, "to get a little scoria."

"Oh!" said Mr. P. "You wanted to run up a little score here. Well sir, I

think, in your case, that might be done--in fact, I've no doubt of it."

"I fear you do not quite understand me," said the Professor. "I have not

found here what I had expected. To be sure, I met with a little

gneiss----"

"Ah! a little niece," said Mr. P., rubbing his hands. "Well, now, that

must be pleasant I am very glad indeed to hear it. It will certainly

make the place much more agreeable for you."

"Yes,--" said the Professor, "but it don't amount to much. I wanted

particularly to find on these mountains some traces of their having once

been a part of the shores of the ocean----"

"Oh!" cried Mr. P., "I can help you there. I can show you a fine

BEACH,--if that is what you want."

"You can?" exclaimed the Professor. "With shells?"

"I don't know about that," said Mr. P., "but there he is, in the

bar-room--he keeps the house--and you can ask him yourself about the

shells."

Mr. P. now took occasion to hurry after the waiter to his room, but he

heard the muttered thunder of a German-storm below him as he rapidly

climbed the stairs. He had a very nice room in the extreme upper part of

the house, and the view was charming.

To the East one could see the Hudson-"winding like a silver thread;" the

distant Bay of Fundy; and the foggy shores of Newfoundland.

To the South were distinctly visible the blue Juniata; the bold arch of

the Natural Bridge; and the long lines of shipping at New Orleans; while

in the West, the setting sun could be seen glowing upon the walls of the

Yo Semite, and gilding the tops of the big trees in the Mariposa valley.

After feasting his eyes on this magnificent prospect, Mr. P. came

down-stairs to feast on something which owed its enchantment to a

cooking-range, and not to a range of distance. He met the Professor at

the bottom of the stairs, and hastened to pacify him by inquiries about

some little bushes that he had just gathered.

"That is laurel," said the learned man, grumly.

"Indeed!" said Mr. P. "We make lard of that in New York."

"Lard?" cried the Professor. "I never heard of such a thing."

"Oh, yes, certainly!" said Mr. P.

"Have you never heard of the great LORILLARD manufacturing

establishment?"

"Never;" said AGASSIZ, "and I'll go and see it the very day I reach the

city."

The next day Mr. P. made the ascent of High Peak. Everybody does that;

and so, with a small party, Mr. P. started out--gaily enough. On

reaching the place where the heavy climbing begins, they met the New

York Fat Men's Club coming down, and the peculiar appearance of the

members deterred most of Mr. P.'s party from attempting the great feat.

It was proposed that Mr. P. alone should make the ascent. He

assented--and being thus, in a manner, ordered up--went it alone.

It was not an easy thing--that climbing of High Peak--as any one will be

apt to conclude after attentively studying this picture of the ascent.

But an indomitable will can conquer all obstacles that are not too much

for it, and at last Mr. P. balanced himself on the extreme point of the

Peak. The view was so glorious that he instantly hastened down to inform

his companions that they too must not miss it upon any account. Several

of them, JOHN BINGHAM, of Ohio; SIMON CAMERON, and HENRY WILSON, of

Massachusetts, objected very strongly to the proposed climb, as they

were never in the habit of occupying very high ground. But Mr. P.

insisted that they would there obtain what they needed more than

anything else in the world, and he begged their pardon if he referred to

extended views. So at last they all went up, and when they reached the

topmost point Mr. P. placed himself so as to cut off his companions'

retreat, and then he delivered to them a discourse that they will not

soon forget.

When from his remarks, and the practical illustration which lay beneath

them, they had been made aware that it was a great country of varied

interests, and not a few little sections, for which they should

legislate, Mr. P. let them down.

The following morning, after testing an admirable specimen of

horn-blending--offered him by Mr. BEACH, and not Prof. AGASSIZ, Mr. P.

set out alone for the Kauterskill Falls. His trip was wonderful. He went

in a wagon. The scene was sublime. At one place he came across a bevy of

New York artists sketching the scenery, and their sensations when he

suddenly cut off their north light must have been peculiar. But they

regained their accustomed pallor as the old horse struggled manfully,

and the danger passed away.

At last, after an exciting ride over roads that had perhaps never been

trod before by human wheels, Mr. P. reached the great Kauterskill

Falls--that lovely freak of nature which has been celebrated in all

ages, and of which the poet says:

"The noble splash Niagara gives,

In thee, fair Kauterskill, still lives;

All but the mighty roar and size.

And clamor of wild hackmen's cries."

[Illustration]

This view of the Falls is from a sketch by Mr. P. himself.

(He will send a beautiful chromo of it--seventeen and a fourteenth by

eighteen and thirteen fifteenths of an inch--life size,--and a copy of

the paper for nine years, for thirty-four dollars and a quarter--postage

paid.)

* * * * *

COMIC ZOOLOGY.

GENUS FELIS.--THE LION.

The Lion is a Cat, and has probably been a greater Scourge to humanity

than any other of the feline race, with the exception of the nine-tailed

variety, now almost extinct. He is known in Africa as the _Rad_, an

Arabic word signifying thunder, and not, as the superficial philologist

might suppose, a contraction of the name of a political party in this

country that at present enjoys the Lion's share of the spoils. It is

true that some of the American Rads are immense brutes, but in other

respects they do not bear much resemblance to the "lord with a big head"

which infests the African and Asiatic continents. Much has been said of

the pluck and endurance of the Lion, but his heart often fails him in

the hour of danger, and he sometimes Caves in without showing as much

Bottom as is displayed by his counterfeit presentment on the stage. In

short, like the Noble Savage of our own wilds, his moral attributes have

been greatly exaggerated. He prowls through the woods at night in search

of the herbivora which constitute his prey, but generally vanishes at

the appearance of Aurora. The Rad also makes tremendous havoc among the

stock in many parts of the East, but has never been known to molest the

Bullock in Georgia.

Among the sports who have particularly distinguished themselves as

assailants of the Lion, may be mentioned SAMSON, HERCULES, NIMROD, JULES

GERARD, Captain CUMMING, Sir SAMUEL BAKER, VAN AMBURGH, and CHARLES

SUMNER, of Massachusetts. The last named gentleman, who is not generally

looked upon as an ardent votary of the Chase, some time ago attacked the

British Lion (_Leo Britannicus_) with tremendous ferocity, injuring that

somewhat superannuated beast as much as it was possible to do with a

short range air-gun at the distance of three thousand miles. For a

moment the shaggy monster looked angrily across the Main at

Massachusetts, but was soon satisfied that his antagonist was feinting,

whereupon he yawned, winked lazily at an adjacent Unicorn, and relapsed

into his customary state of doze. He evidently regards American

Lion-shooters as a Motley throng, from whom nothing serious is to be

apprehended.

Several varieties of the Lion have been domesticated in this country,

the principal of which is the Black African, mentioned by GERARD as the

most formidable of the leonine tribe. Here, however, it is tolerably

tame, and breeds faster than in Congo or Dahomey. There are two

specimens (whelps) in the West Point Menagerie, and one of more

venerable appearance, with a full mane (black and curly) in the

Zoological Collection at the Capitol in Washington. Of this breed there

are supposed to be about three millions in our Southern provinces. Some

persons are of opinion that the Lion predestined to lie down with the

snow-white lamb, in the millennium, is the Black African species, and

from the fact that instances of this kind of union are even now of

frequent occurrence, some people believe that the Reign of the Saints on

Earth has already commenced. _Nous verrons._

* * * * *

URBS IN RURE.

Having been often importuned for advice, by inexperienced persons who

are about to visit the country, Mr. PUNCHINELLO has concluded to make a

full exposition of his ideas on the subject of rural summerings, as

follows:

When you pack your wardrobes put a few spring-beds in your trunk. You

will find them less depressing than the ordinary summer beds out of

town. A hair mattress or two may be stowed in the odd corners of your

travelling bag.

Arrange, if possible, for a regular supply of Croton. The ablutionary

fluid is most difficult to be had in places where water is abundant. It

is mostly reserved for scenic purposes, and for the promotion of "the

mill-wheel's hum."

Smokers should not lumber their baggage with Partagas. Connecticut

supplies all summer resorts with the finest Havana segars.

If you cannot live without Kissingen you had better take with you the

necessary ingredients, and prepare your beverage yourself. Country

dispensaries dispense with such drinks.

No gentleman should go out of town without half a dozen high hats, in

separate packages. They are just the thing for summer rambles in the

woods. But remember to touch your beaver where the hemlock boughs are

low. White duck is recommended for travelling suits. If the weather

should moderate unexpectedly you can procure caloric at the kitchen

fire. The finest kid gloves are to be worn on fishing excursions.

Ladies should have with them as much jewelry as possible, borrowed or

otherwise. A few five-thousand-dollar dresses will be appropriate when

you go out to see the sun rise. The sun is quite fastidious about such

things, and warmly approves an effective toilette.

It will not be necessary to carry with you opera librettos. Any

well-regulated country tavern can furnish everything of that sort that

you will require.

Have a few billiard-balls in your pocket, however. In cloudy weather you

can improvise a game on the dining-room table. Travelling Chinamen will

probably furnish you with queues.

If you should be invited to try the fruit of the oak tree, on the theory

that it is the American filbert,--very superior,--you can take your

friend's word for it, without eating.

Get up early in the morning and go out to shoot Welsh rabbits for

breakfast. The exercise will improve your appetite.

Find out all the novelties you can. It is a good thing to watch the

black cat fish. Feelin' weary of that sport, you can sit on the rocks

and tell the servant to bring you the evening paper on a silver salver.

Observe carefully the auriferous sunsets among the mountains. You will

thus be enabled to determine with sufficient accuracy how gold is

"closing" in New York.

Finally, write occasional letters to the _Evening Babble_. If your name

is JONES, sign yourself "SENOJ." This thin disguise will be very pretty

and will deceive your most intimate friends. Say in your correspondence

that the tables of the house where you stay are "loaded with all the

luxuries of the season." If convenient, show your letters to the

landlord, whisper to him, "JONES _fecit_," and explain the little joke

about the signature. This courtesy may somewhat alleviate your board

bill.

* * * * *

[Illustration: VICISSITUDES OF THE NATIONAL GAME.

SKETCH OF LATE MATCH AT GOAT'S HILL, BETWEEN RIVAL CLUBS "BARE LEGS" AND

"BULLY BOYS." UMPIRE UNDERTOOK TO RESERVE HIS DECISION UPON A "FLY

CATCH." "BULLY BOYS" TOOK GAME INTO THEIR OWN HANDS, SETTLING IT AND

THEIR OPPONENTS FOR ONE SEASON AT LEAST.]

* * * * *

MY TURKISH BATH.

DEAR PUNCHINELLO: It happened to be eleven o'clock some time during

yesterday forenoon.

I generally take something at that hour.

Yesterday I took a Turkish Bath.

I took a horse-car. (That, however, is neither here nor there: but it

got within two blocks of there at 11.25.) I ran up the steps of the T.B.

establishment, and wired the inmates. The door flew open, and an ideal

voter, erst a chattel (I hope I am not obscure in this deeply

interesting portion of the narrative) pointed his thumb over his

shoulder, displayed a choice assortment of ivory, and chuckled with

great natural ease. I supposed this to be a custom with the colored

population of Turkey, and passed on.

Everything was Turkish. I was struck with the order of the bath: also

the scimetary of the apartments. As I think I before remarked,--I passed

on.

The M.D. proprietor shook hands with me very cordially. I also shook

hands with him. I told him that I wanted no ceremony; but if agreeable

to him, I would gird up my loins and go in. He intimated that the only

ceremony was to fund a small portion of the contents of my pocket-book.

I am a little hard of hearing,--and I passed on.

An assistant, in the light and airy costume which I have so often

noticed in Central Africa, in midsummer, beckoned to me, after I had

laid aside a quantity of goods, (belonging to my tailor, and other

downtown business men,) and I followed him.

The room we entered was heated by what I took to be a successful

furnace. I must have been mistaken, however, for I understood the

assistant to apologise because, by reason of a defect in the flues, they

had been able to get the temperature up only to about 475 degrees that

morning. I was a little disappointed, but simply suggested that the

thermometer was Fair in Height; but if I felt chilly I would send out

for some blankets.

He laid me on a slatted conch.

I experienced a gentle glow.

Afterwards, (I don't know why, exactly, I have always attributed it to

the temperature,) I felt hot--hotter--Hottentotter! It seemed as though

the equator ran right along the line of my back-bone.

I didn't care.

I couldn't recollect whether my name was SHADRACH, MESHACH, or ABEDNEGO;

but I was baking and sizzling just as furiously as though I had paid in

advance. My pores were opening, and the perspiration was immense. A red

bandanna handkerchief would have been swamped.

There was a bald-headed man next me. He said he had been lying there

three weeks, and he was going home next Saturday if he didn't strike

oil. I grappled with the allusion, and replied that that was a poor

opening any way, and I didn't believe I could myself lie there so

coolly.

Waiting till my identity was pretty much gone, I dropped into another

marble hall. The assistant (to whom my warmest thanks are due) scooped

up what was left of me and laid me on a slab.

The assistant said I needed him, but, to the best of my recollection, he

kneaded me. He went all over me, taking up a collection, and did

first-rate. I threw off all reserve--about half a pound, I should judge.

He seemed to take a fancy to me. I never knew a man to get so intimate

on short acquaintance.

We talked rationally on a good many subjects.

He said he barely got a living there. I was surprised. I supposed he

managed to scrape together a good deal in the course of a year.

He said he wanted to go into some wholesale house. I ventured to predict

that success awaited him in the rubber business. In fact, we kept up

quite a stream of conversation, which he supplemented with a hose that

played over me in a gentle, leisurely manner, as if I were fully

insured.

Punchinello, Volume 1, No. 20, August 13, 1870 · 第 1 / 3 段