"Vat ees zat?" she asked, in broken | whole roll and throwing it on the sideFrench. walk, "take the pile."

"Why, that is my city residence," said Fisk, with an air of profound composure. "C'est magnifique c'est grande!" repeated Montaland, in admiration.

Soon they came to Central Park. "Vat ees zees place?" asked Montaland.

"O, this is my country seat; these are my grounds-my cattle and buffaloes, and those sheep over there compose my pet sheepfold," said Fisk, twirling the end of his mustace à la Napoleon.

C'est très magnifique !" exclaimed Montaland in bewilderment. "Mr. Feesk is one grand Américain!"

By-and-by they rode back and down Broadway, by the Domestic Sewing Machine building.

"And is zees your grand maison, too?" asked Montaland, as she pointed up to the iron palace.

"No, Miss Montaland; to be frank with you, that building does not belong to me,' said Fisk, as he settled back with his hand in his bosom-" that belongs to Mr. Gould!"

Ten minutes after the poor convict left, a poor young negro preacher called. "What do you want? Are you from Sing Sing, too?" asked Fisk. "No, sir; I'm a Baptist preacher from Hoboken. I want to go to the Howard Seminary in Washington," said the negro.

tention was duly and most religiously | the Ohio river, and settled at Losanti, carried out. The Legislature was in now called Cincinnati. It was, at that session in that town, and not a few of the time, but a little settlement of some worthy legislators were present upon this

occasion.

One of these worthies I will name, as he not only took a big swath in the evening's entertainment, but he was a man more generally known than our worthy President, James K. Polk. That man was the famous Captain Riley, whose narrative" of suffering and adventures is pretty generally known, all over the civilized world. Captain Riley was a fine, fat, good-humored joker, who at the period of my story was the representative of the Dayton district, and lived near that little city when at home. Well, Captain Riley had amused the company with many of his far-famed and singular adventures, which being mostly told before and read by millions of people, that have never seen his book, I will not attempt to repeat them.

twenty or thirty log and frame cabins, and where now stands the Broadway Hotel and blocks of stores and dwellinghouses, was the cottage and corn patch of old Mr. a tailor, who, by the by, bought that land for the making of a coat for one of the settlers. Well, I put up my cabin, with the aid of my neighbors, and put in a patch of corn and potatoes, about where the Fly Market now stands, and set about improving my lot, house, &c.

"Occasionally, I took up my rifle, and started off with my dog down the river, to look up a little deer, or bar meat, then very plenty along the river. The blasted red skins were lurking about, and hovering around the settlement, and every once in a while picked off some of our neighbors, or stole our cattle or horses. I hated the red demons, and made no bones of peppering the blasted sarpents whenever I got a sight at them. In fact, the red rascals had a dread of me, and had laid a great many traps to get my scalp, but I wasn't to be catch'd napping. No, no, gentlemen, I was too well up to 'em for that.

Many were the stories and adventures told by the company, when it came to the turn of a well known gentleman who represented the Cincinnati district. As M- is yet among the living, and perhaps not disposed to be the subject of joke or story, I do not feel at liberty to give his name. Mr. -was a slow "Well, I started off one morning, believer of other men's adventures, and pretty early, to take a hunt, and travelled at the same time much disposed to a long way down the river, over the botmagnify himself into a marvellous hero toms and hills, but couldn't find no bar whenever the opportunity offered. As nor deer. About four o'clock in the Captain Riley wound up one of his truth-afternoon, I made tracks for the settleful, though really marvellous adventures, Mr. coolly remarked, that the captain's story was all very well, but it did not begin to compare with an adventure that he had once upon a time" on the Ohio, below the present city of Cincinnati. "Let's have it!" "Let's have it!" resounded from all hands.

66

"Well, gentlemen," said the Senator, clearing his voice for action and knocking the ashes from his cigar against the arm of his chair. "Gentlemen, I am not in the habit of spinning yarns of marvellous or fictitious matters; and therefore it is scarcely necessary to affirm upon the responsibility of my reputation, gentlemen, that what I am about to tell you, I most solemnly proclaim to be truth, and—”

"Oh! never mind that, go on, Mr.chimed the party.

"Well, gentlemen, in 18— I came down

ment again. By and by, I sees a buck just ahead of me, walking leisurely down the river. I slipped up, with my faithful dog close in my rear, to within clever shooting distance, and just as the buck stuck his nose in the drink, I drew a bead upon his top-knot and over he tumbled. and splurged and bounded awhile, when I came up and relieved him by cutting his wizen-"

"Well, but what had that to do with an adventure?" said Riley.

"Hold on a bit, if you please, gentlemen-by Jove it had a great deal to do with it. For while I was busy skinning the hind quarters of the buck, and stowing away the kidney-fat in my hunting shirt, I heard a noise like the breaking of brush under a moccasin up 'the bottom.' My dog heard it and started up to reconnoitre, and I lost no time in re

open.

"I didn't say it was good, I reckon." "Sir!" said Fiery faces, "Sir-r! upon your oath-mind, upon your oath, you say that Blinkins is a rogue, villain, and a thief!"

soft, and being relieved of my heavy | putting the question to keep his eyes boots, I put off with double quick time, and seeing the creek about half a mile off, I ventured to look over my shoulder to see what kind of a chance there was to hold up and load. The red skin was coming jogging along pretty well blowed out, about five hundred yards in the rear. Thinks I, here goes to load any how. So at it I went-in went the powder, and putting on my patch, down went the ball about half-way, and off snapped my ramrod!"

"Thunder and lightning!" shouted the old woodsman, who was worked up to the top-notch in the "member's " story.

"Good gracious! wasn't I in a pickle! There was the red whelp within two hundred yards of me, pacing along and loading up his rifle as he came! I jerked out the broken ramrod, dashed it away and started on, priming up as I cantered off, determined to turn and give the red skin a blast any how, as soon as I reached the creek.

"I was now within a hundred yards of the creek, could see the smoke from the settlement chimneys; a few more jumps and I was by the creek. The Indian was close upon me-he gave a whoop, and I raised my rifle; on he came, knowing that I had broken my ramrod and my load not down; another whoop! whoop! and he was within fifty yards of me! I pulled trigger and—”

'You say so," was Pip's reply. "Haven't you said so."

"Why, you've said it," said Pipkins, "what's the use of my repeating it ?"

"Sir-r!" thundered Fiery faces, the Demosthenean thunderer of Thumbtown, "Sir-r! I charge you, upon your sworn oath, do you or do you not say-Blinkins stole things?"

"No, sir," was the cautious reply of Pipkins. I never said Blinkins stole things, but I do say-he's got a way of finding things that nobody lost!"

"Sir-r," said Fiery faces, "you can retire," and the court adjourned.

NOT CLASSICAL.

I KNEW an old lady in Liverpool once who kept an alehouse, not for profit, for she had plenty of money, but in order to enjoy the conversation of a select few. For a bar there was her little front parlour, and, but for a beer-engine in one corner, and a row of bottles and glasses on a shelf, you might have imagined the room to be a boudoir. A stranger, say, would enter, and call for a "gill o' ale "And killed him?" chuckled Riley. in a tone which, somehow, displeased the "No, sir! I missed fire!" old lady. "Yill!" she would thunder, "And the red skin-” shouted the old “Thee gits na' yill heer! Thee's nit claswoodsman in a phrenzy of excitement-sical. Pse nowt but classical foak here. Git "Fired and killed me !"

The screams and shouts that followed this finale brought landlord Noble, servants and hostlers, running up stairs to see if the house was on fire!

DODGING THE RESPONSIBILITY.

"SIR!" said Fiery faces, the lawyer, to an unwilling witness, "Sir! do you say, upon your oath, that Blinkins is a dishonest man?"

"I didn't say he was ever accused of being an honest man, did I?" replied Pipkins.

'Does the court understand you to say, Mr. Pipkins, that the plaintiff's reputation is bad?" inquired the judge, merely

oot wi' thee!" If you were classical the gill of ale was brought to you by one of her pretty daughters, and the old lady did not much care whether you paid for it or not. Indeed, there was one specially ragged and unclean person a frequenter of the little ale-house in Button Street, who went, if I remember right, by the name of "Lily-white Muffins," who was incurably drunken and dissipated, but who was a famous Latin and Greek scholar, had been a fellow of a college at Oxford, and whose conversation was still charming. "Lily-white Muffins," the old lady would cry, "thee's gude for nowt; but thee's classical. Sally, gi' t'auld wretch a gill o' yill." And many a gill of Welsh ale did that deboshed scholar consume at the old lady's expense.

GEO. AUGUSTA SALA.