Chapter 3

His mode of paying his fare evolves a climax of unconscious impertinence. In order to have free use of one hand to pass up his money, he grasps cane or umbrella with the other hand, by which he holds the pendent strap. By this means he loses control of the lower end of his stick, which thereby becomes an automatic instrument of torture, menacing your face and eyes in quite a savage way. Indeed, his apparent unconsciousness that he is a nuisance, and ought to be kicked out, really approaches the sublime.

He is a pet of the driver, of course. Some innocent people wonder that the drivers of omnibuses or cars should feel so very charitably disposed toward the human family in general, as to take up extra passengers when all seats are filled. Short-sighted mortals! Do you not see it! The more passengers, beyond the complement of the "'bus," the more perquisites for an ill-requited profession.

To return to our black sheep. Look where he stands. As he grows weary, he grasps the straps on either side to steady him. His attitude is a cunningly devised mode of tormenting his fellow-passengers. Either elbow of our nondescript just reaches the hat of your opposite neighbor or yourself. With each jolt of the stage, by a little dexterity of movement, or want of it, he can knock the hats over the eyes of two persons at a time, and by a little shifting of his position he can frequently bring down four by a single spasmodic lunge. When he is fresher, as in the morning, and can hold his own weight, he falls in his more natural posture. Would you know what that may be? Did you ever observe one of the descendants of the Lost Tribes who inhabit Chatham street dreamily waiting for a passing rustic? He is apparently in a comatose state. His abdomen is drawn in; his body is bent like a section of a hoop; his eyes are cast down; while both his hands are thrust deeply into his trowser's pockets.

But I grow weary of the subject, and stop by commending the Thirteenth Man in the Omnibus to curiosity-hunters as a fungus growth of humanity nursed by over-virtuous forbearance.

Hyperborean.

The hyperbole of bores it is, to bore Congress for a hundred thousand dollars to go to the Pole! If Captain HALL wants adventure, let him travel to the Halls of the MONTEZUMAS. If he wishes only to be left out in the cold, let him go to Chili; or else up in a balloon; or let him make himself Republican candidate for something in New York. We believe the North Pole would rather be let alone. The whole subject is, at all events, too HAYES-y just now to be comprehended. There is a sort of KANE-ine madness, which shows itself not in fear of water but in an insane disposition to do big things on ice. Haul off, Captain HALL!

Meteorological Query.

Is a temperance lecture synonymous with a Water Spout?

THE SPIRIT OF THE NAVY.

ITS PORTER. ITS SAILS.

_Impressions of an Outsider_.

MR. PUNCHINELLO: According to your instructions, your correspondent proceeded to Washington, and there interviewed our present efficient Secretary of the Navy, Admiral PORTER. I found him in his office, surrounded by bills-of-sale of main-tops, carronades, iron-clads, bo'sen's whistles, navy-yards, and other naval articles, the proceeds of which were needed for the future experiments of the Department. These papers were being bound up into bundles and stowed away by his assistant, ROBESON.

After the ordinary greetings had passed between the admiral and your correspondent, the following conversation ensued:

_Cor_. Admiral, what do you think of the Fifteenth Amendment?

_Ad_. All right. When Americans want votes, I say, give 'em to 'em.

_Cor_, (_A little apprehensively._) Votes are different from boats, then, admiral?

_Ad_. Certainly. What do the negroes want with boats?

_Cor_. How are you satisfied, Mr. Secretary, with the plan of always providing you with a civilian as an assistant?

_Ad_. I don't like it. Can't help it, though. This one, however, (_pointing his thumb over his shoulder at_ ROBESON,) don't give me much trouble. Quiet man.

_Cor_. What do you think of the condition of Cuba,

_Ad_. Very nice indeed! Got Admiral POOR out there, cruising around. Just like a picnic, you know.

_Cor_. Are you in favor of the recognition of Cuban Independence?

_Ad_. No, sir! What's the good? POOR might have to come home, then.

_Cor_. You think, then, that recognition would not be a Poor policy?

_Ad_. Yes—no! No—yes! Doormat! You know what I mean.

_Cor_.(_quickly_.) Oh! yes. Certainly,sir! But what is your opinion upon the woman question?

_Ad_. Don't care a snap. Let 'em vote. Won't make a difference 'board ship.

_Cor_. You think, then that women will never be sailors, Admiral?

_Ad_. Nothing they could do. Except to trim the boats; look out for the mizen sheets or somethg o' that kind. Couldn't expect 'em, even in a calm, to be brisk in manning the yards, much less martingales.

_Cor_. What is your opinion, Admiral, of SHERIDAN'S work among the Piegans?

_Ad_. (_laughing_). Neat job. How was that for Lo?

_Cor_. Good. Do you believe the Pope's infallible, Admiral?

_Ad_. The Pope's what?

_Cor_. Do you think that there is no such word as fail with PIO Nono?

_Ad_. No, no!

_Cor_. The Empress EUGENIE, Admiral, and Queen VICTORIA—which do you think is the prettiest of these women?

_Ad_. Never saw 'em swimmin'. Can't say.

_Cor_. What is your opinion about McFARLAND? Was he justifiable, think you?

_Ad_. No! Poor shot.

_Cor_. Have you seen _Frou Frou_, Admiral?

_Ad_. Yes. In New-York.

Cor. How did you like it, sir?

_Ad_. Not much. Do for folks whose taste for that sort of thing is DAILY bred.

_Cor_. What do you think of oar new City Charter?

_Ad_. Is it a ship?

_Cor_. Yes, sir. It is a sort of hardship for New-York.

_Ad_. Well, the city must be used to that. Will take in its ale pretty much as usual, I reckon.

_Cor_. What, sir, do you think of Chicago?

_Ad_. Ah! go way.

_Cor_. (_oblivious of hint_.) Where do you buy your pantaloon stuff, Mr. Secretary?

_Ad_. (_sharply_.) Where the woodbine twineth.

_Cor_. Admiral, have you any children?

_Ad_. (_loudly_.) ROBESON!

_Cor_. My dear sir, you surprise me! Is he your son?

_Ad_. (_to assistant_.) ROBESON! Did you see MIKE HAINES?

_Cor_. One moment. Admiral! Let me ask of you, in which, if any, of our New-York companies is your life insured; and do you wear the patent perforated buckskin?—

Here the interview terminated. Your correspondent suddenly discovered that he would have barely time to catch the N. Y. Express, and he took leave with a renewed respect for the spirit of our Navy and its head.

SNIQUE.

SPRING has come. Now is the time to ask your friends for seed and roots, and to tell somebody they ought to see about the garden. Turn your chickens into your neighbors' grounds, and the cow too, if you think she would like to go there. Now also is the time for house-cleaning, as well as for settling up one's affairs generally; so, after you have called in all the money due you, and paid out as little as possible, perhaps you had better go out West for a week or so.

The sort of Liquor most apt to Tell upon a Man.

PEACH Brandy.

Opinions of the Press.

The _Sun_ thinks that the World's end would be a god-send.

It also thinks that the Tribune is a try weakly and unique daily, besides being a four centenary.

It thinks that the fact of the _Times_ being out of Joint is the reason it is getting the cold Shoulder from its subscribers.

It thinks that the _Herald_ is not the leading paper, though it may have Ben-it.

It thinks that the _Sun_ is awful shiny.

The Politician's Half-and-Half.

DEMAGOGUE and Demijohn.

CONDENSED CONGRESS.

SENATE.

LOFTY Mr. SUMNER wished to know what Mr. CARPENTER meant by pursuing him. He was used to being blackguarded by the enemies of his country, but now he was hounded in the house of his friends. He had looked through the whole Congressional Library and failed to find a precedent for the course of the carping CARPENTER, except in the case of the classic chap who had warmed a viper which had turned again and rent him. He did not mean to say that Mr. CARPENTER was a viper, but he thought nobody but an Adder would put this and that together as Mr. CARPENTER had done.

Mr. CARPENTER said that the passion of his friend from Boston for maundering about himself amounted to a mild mania. All he had done was to suggest that SUMNER had upheld States Rights twenty years ago, and now pretended that he was never any such person.

Mr. SUMNER said that twenty years ago the States Rights boot was upon the other leg. ÆNEAS SILVIUS had well observed that it made a heap of difference whose ox was gored, and HORACE had pointed out the difference between tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee. Unless his reading of the Cyclopedia had failed to inform him, he believed that there was a game known as "Heads I win, tails you lose." That was his little game. When Massachusetts States Rights were invoked to aid the colored man, States Rights were good. When Southern States Rights were invoked to crush the colored man, States Rights were bad. As for him, give him liberty or give him rats.

Mr. HARLAN wished to know why the Pacific Railway grant should be passed. No officer of that railway had been to see him about it. He did not believe in legislation of this kind. If a thing were worth having, it was certainly worth asking for. He had no objection to breaking old "ties," but he was averse to paying for new ones, unless he had some personal reason for it. He wished he were altogether in the same position as some of his colleagues, including these "bonds."

WILSON, and CASSERLY, and THURMAN, and THAYER said that HARLAN was of no account, and that was the reason why he had not been "seen." As long as a majority was prepared, it was wasting money to conciliate any body else.

Mr. DRAKE said he had a better thing than the Pacific Railway. It was a bill to provide that the Army and Navy of the United States might be put on a war-footing on the application of any three colored persons. This did not seem to be profitable, but it was. The profit in it was a JOB, but much subtler than in the Pacific Railway. He hoped Senators would see the illimitable vistas of patronage opened by the bill.

HOUSE.

Mr. BUTLER insisted upon his bill to annex Dominica. Somebody had said that we had plenty of Dominicans already in the Southern States. This was net so. He wanted to be Governor-General of Dominica. It was true that silverware was not rife in that island, but there was an infinitude of potential voters, who could be converted into coin. The House refused to see it, however, and proceeded to discuss the case of SYPHER. Mr. BROOKS said SYPHER was nothing. He did not see how SYPHER, who was a nullity, could be figured out to be a member of Congress. Besides, SYPHER lived in Pennsylvania.

Mr. KELLEY said that was the very reason why SYPHER should be admitted. Every body knew, who knew any thing of arithmetic, that a SYPHER in the proper place amounted to a great deal. He would like to know what objection there was to Pennsylvanians representing Louisiana? A Pennsylvanian was sure to be right on the tariff, and a Louisianian was sure to be wrong. Therefore a Pennsylvanian was a much better representative than a Louisianian. Besides, SYPHER's hands were not red with loyal blood, neither had he waded knee-deep in patriotic gore.

Mr. BUTLER wanted to annex Dominica.

Mr. Cox said he did not object to SYPHER'S coming in because he was a Pennsylvanian. He was an Ohio man, and represented a New-York district. But be thought there were too many SYPHERS here now. An integer or two would be more useful to maintain the integrity of the House.

Mr. BUTLER said he would like to introduce a bill to annex Dominica.

Mr. FARNSWORTH said he didn't care any thing about the merits of the case. He knew the committee was all right. It was a martter of comity to go with the committee. If the House added a SYPHER, it would increase their strength ten fold.

Mr. STOKES said he would not weep for SYPHER if he were rejected. But he would sigh for SYPHER, if he could cipher SYPHER in.

Mr. BUTLER moved a bill to annex Dominica.

SYPHER tried to swear himself in, but he had been so much irritated by the previous proceedings that he found that he had sworn himself out.

The House adjourned, except Mr. BUTLER, who was preparing a bill to annex Dominica.

A REMONSTRANCE.

MR. PUNCHINELLO: In the _Express_ of Saturday, April 17th, I read the following announcement, printed at the foot of the regular weather table, furnished for that journal by Professor THATCHER:

"Prediction.—It will not rain within 3¾ days from 8 P.M.

"A. E. THATCHER."

The positive character of this prediction made it very, welcome. My wife and myself had been invited by friends in Westchester County to go to their house on Saturday evening, stay all night, and pass the following day—Easter-Sunday—with them. We had nearly made up our minds to do it. They are very pleasant folks to visit, especially about Easter time; for the man of the house has a mania for hens, and, being a dyer by trade, his poultry, using the refuse of the drugs instead of gravel to aid their digestion, lay natural painted eggs of the most varied and delicate tints. If I am strict in any matter of religion, it is with regard to having a blow-out of eggs at Easter. My wife is as fond of eggs as myself, (the yolk sits lightly, she says, which is a joke upon yoke,) and she required no egging on to persuade her to accept the invitation. We were doubtful about the weather, though; but the "Professor's" prediction decided us, and we went.

I thought it felt mighty like rain as we walked the short distance from the railway station to our host's. I had rain-pains in my back, and my wife said her corns were shooting. Nor did our punctual aches deceive us. Between that Saturday night and Easter-Sunday morning it began to rain. Easter-Sunday was the wettest day I remember ever to have experienced. There was no "let up" of the deluge throughout that day and Easter-Monday. We—my wife and I—are suffering dreadfully from the effects of Easter-eggs, which we were obliged to devour by the stack merely to kill time, as we could not walk out. Should we die, I will let you know; but really it was too bad of "Professor" THATCHER.

WEATHERBOUND.

P.S.—Who is "Professor" THATCHER?

THE BIRD OF WISDOM IN IOWA.

Civilization, it seems, is making some headway in Iowa. Boys are no longer allowed to shoot small birds there, especially song-birds. And so the little warblers can pipe it all day, if they like, and when they grow tired and hungry, they are welcome to refresh their small systems at the strawberry beds. There is one feature of the regulation in question, however, that does pain us. While vocal and fly-gobbling talents are tenderly fostered, dignified Wisdom is not only neglected, but persecuted. Our old friend the Owl is reputed by the people of Iowa to be rather particular in his diet, (as all wise creatures are,) and to prefer a nice young spring chicken to almost any other "delicacy of the season"—a proof of wisdom and refinement that proved too much for the people of Iowa. And so they have left the poor old Owl out of the protective enactment; and it is not only legal to shoot him, but meritorious. The legislators could have stood the wisdom, perhaps by itself; and possibly they might have respected the taste; but the combination troubled them, and could not, of course, be tolerated.

HOW A DISCIPLE OF FOX BECAME A LOVER OF BULL.

PHILADELPHIA, 4th Month, 13th, 1870.

FRIEND PUNCHINELLO: I know thee treats our good city with more consideration than thy brother journalists, and so it is that I address the on this occasion. Last night I listened to the fiddle of OLE BULL. I had long known of this man, even from the time when I first attired myself in a coat, (called by the world after the name of the abdomen of a fish,) as one who

—"skinned a cat

And put the fur around his hat."

But having recently been made aware of the fact that this fiddler only availed himself, in his vain exhibitions, of a part of the _felis_ which was not necessary to its felicity after death, I determined to give a portion of my worldly goods toward the building of a light-house on the Norway coast, for which purpose, I heard it averred, this man's performances were given; and I went to the building where the fiddling was to be, to see if it were done with fidelity for this end.

As I sat in the upper seats of the house, serenely elevated above the vain throng, the man BULL appeared before me. His mien was humble and his hair was of a gray tinge, which I attributed to the ceaseless gratings of the instrument which he held on his arm, as carefully as if it had been an immortal child.

At first, though I labored conscientiously toward that end, I could discover nothing in the sounds he made which reminded me in the least degree of a Norwegian light-house. But suddenly I forgot that useful monument. Against my will, I seemed to be wafted aloft, even to where the seats were cheaper; and anon, I felt as though I disported among the shameless figures on the ceiling of the house. I now forgot all things earthly, even that suspicious bill which friend HOPKINS paid in to my cashier on Second-day. Yea, my whole being became, as it were, strung upon the entrails of a cat and tickled with the tail of horse. I felt as if I were wafted aloft on a blanket of shivering scrapes while quivering angels gently swung me among the stickery stars! And there I heard a melody as though the edges of glass skies were softly rubbed together. Then all was stiller, stiller, until methought I heard nothing but one consumptive angel breathing in his sleep. But even that sound dribbled away, until the last drop seemed to me about to be sucked down into a hole at the bottom of the airy void, when suddenly there came a rush as though a vast light-house of brass had fallen into a sea of tinkling cymbals, and I jumped so violently that my spectacles slipped from off my nose and fell among the vain ones below.

A second time now came the fiddler forth, and soon methought I stood within a surgeon's operating hall. The player drew his bow as though it were a knife, gliding over the limb of a subject in a sleep.

So keen the blade, so soft the touch, the sleeper did not wake! I clutched my knees—my breath did cease!

The skin divides!

And still he sleeps.

The muscles and the tendons fall apart!

He moves not.

Oh! That glittering blade

It deeper goes!

A—Ah!

He wakes!

He yells!

Horror! And now, through flesh and bones that vengeful weapon grinds!

'Mid screams and oaths!

Down falls the leg...

I staggered forward. My hat, which much clamor in the rear had not made me remove, fell over the iron rail and plunged, resounding ike a sinful drum, upon the head of a painted Jersey belle below.

I heeded not, but groped me to the door.

And now I write to thee, friend PUNCHINELLO. Can thee buy me such a fiddle in New-York? Thy friend,

VENTER CLUPLE.

A Puzzler.

The Belgians, it is said, are anxious to have the letter _h_ dropped from the French alphabet. As that contains no _w_, how, in the event of a new elision, will the Parisians, who are so fond of English words, manage to spell _wheelwright_?

A Blow that Hurteth not.

The Blow of a flower.

A Pleasant Prospect.

If the new Superintendent of the New-York Police Force is to be as severely tried as was his predecessor, then, surely, JOURDAN will have a hard road to travel."

"OUT OF THE STREETS."

GEORGE W. MCLEAN am I,

And potent was my name, Till TWEED and SWEENEY crossed my path And spoiled my little game.

Our city roads I supervised, Long time, with pious care, The people's "Ways I strictly watched— Street, Avenue, and Square

But now, from office rudely swept By Legislative BILL, The crossing-sweeper's broom I ply, My empty pouch, to fill.

Honeymoons in the Air

The rage for passing the honeymoon in a balloon appears to be on the wane in this country. The reason for this may be that a majority of those who enter wedlock find they "go up" soon enough without the aid of a balloon.

Motto for Unsuccessful Croquet-Players.

"Hoops deferred make the heart sick."

A. T. STEWART & CO.

Have made large additions to their very popular stock of

ENGLISH BODY BRUSSELS,

At $1.75, $2, and $2.25 per yard.

BEST QUALITY VELVETS,

At $2.50 per yard.

ROYAL WILTONS,

At $2.50 and $3 per yard,

MOQUETTES AND AXMINSTERS,

At $3.50 and $4 per yard,

ALSO,

Will offer a choice assortment of

Ingrains, Three-Ply, Cocoa,

AND

CANTON MATTINGS,

ENGLISH AND DOMESTIC.

OIL-CLOTHS, etc.,

Of the Best Quality and Newest Designs.

Novelties in Carpets

In one piece, with

MEDALLIONS AND BORDERS,

And also by the yard. Received by each and every steamer.

BROADWAY,

4th Ave., 9th and 10th Sts.

_The two great objects of a learner's ambition ought to be to speak a foreign language idiomatically, and to pronounce it correctly; and these are the objects which are most carefully provided for in the MASTERY SYSTEM._

The Mastery of Languages; OR, THE ART OF SPEAKING LANGUAGES IDIOMATICALLY. BY THOMAS PRENDERGAST. _I. Hand-Book of the Mastery Series. II. The Mastery Series. French. III. The Mastery Series. German. IV. The Mastery Series. Spanish._ PRICE 50 CENTS EACH. From Professor E.M. Gallaudet, of the National Deaf Mute College.

"The results which crowned the labor of the first week were so astonishing that he fears to detail them fully, lest doubts should be raised as to his credibility. But this much he does not hesitate to claim, that, after a study of less than two weeks, be was able to sustain conversation in the newly-acquired language on a great variety of subjects."

FROM THE ENGLISH PRESS. "The principle may be explained in a line—it is first learning the language, and then studying the grammar, and then learning

(or trying to learn) the language."—_Morning Star_ "We know that there are some who have given Mr. Prendergast's plan a trial, and discovered that in a few weeks its results had surpassed all their expectations."—_Record_.

"A week's patient trial of the French Manual has convinced us that the method is sound."—_Papers for the Schoolmaster_.

"The simplicity and naturalness of the system are obvious."—_Herald_ (Birmingham.)

"We know of no other plan which will infallibly lead to the result in a reasonable time."—_Norfolk News_.

FROM THE AMERICAN PRESS. "The system is as near as can be to the one in which a child learns to talk."—_Troy Whig_.

"We would advise all who are about to begin the study of languages to give it a trial."—_Rochester Democrat_.

"For European travelers this volume is invaluable."

—_Worcester Spy_.

Either of the above volumes sent by mail free to any part of the United States on receipt of price.

D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 90, 92, and 94 Grand Street, New-York.

BURCH'S Merchant's Restaurant AND DINING-ROOM, 310 BROADWAY, BETWEEN PEARL AND DUANE STREETS. _Breakfast from 7 to 10 A.M._ _Lunch and Dinner from 12 to 3 P.M._ _Supper from 4 to 7 P.M._ M.C. BURCH, of New-York. A. STOW, of Alabama. H.A. CARTER, of Massachusetts. A.T. Stewart & Co.

ARE OFFERING

EXTRAORDINARY BARGAINS

IN

Silks, Dress-Goods, Japanese Poplins,

MOHAIRS,

PLAID AND BROCHE BAREGES,

FRENCH PRINTED ORGANDIES,

Jaconets, Percales, Iron Bareges,

AND GRENADINE DITTO.

Forming the largest assortment of choice, fresh goods they have ever offered.

The attention of their customers and the public is respectfully invited.

BROADWAY,