breeches and cavalry boots. Some time ago we had a public ceremonial, or reception, in which this troop led the line, and as it was passing our house, and we were clustered about the windows watching the pageant, one of the youngsters asked, "What soldiers are these ?" "The First City troop," we replied; "don't you admire them?" "Well, I don't know," was the reply, glancing with a critical eye down the file of plump buckskins bestriding the saddles; "they look to me as if they had been melted and poured into their trowsers!" GOOD Deacon Tupper lived in the town of Jin one of the lower counties of Maine. He belonged to the Baptist denomination, and took great delight in attending the annual meetings of their association. Here he met the ministers and delegated brethren from all the churches in the district, and there was a happy reunion. But most of all did he enjoy the good things prepared on these occasions to feast upon. On his return, at one time, one of his neighbors meeting him accosted him with: "Well, Deacon, did you have a good time at the Association?" "Oh yes; look here! do you see-God bless you, yes! glorious! glorious! Oh what puddings!" plied, in a deep, tragic voice: "General, I am seeking the bubble reputation even in the cannon's mouth!" It is perhaps needless to add that Bwas immediately released. DEAR DRAWER,—I have a friend whose name is Frost, and he has a little son, three years old, whom all the family acquaintances call "Jack Frost." Now Jack is a right smart little fellow, and had often heard his father and others talk about the butcher killing the little innocent calves for people to eat, and Jack thought this cruel, and so he used to be on the look-out for every wagon that appeared, lest it should be the butcher after his calf. But one day when the man went out to milk Jack followed, and the man had not been long at his duty before he heard Jack crying at a furious rate, and upon going to him he found him lying on the barnfloor in great distress. He explained his situation by saying that he thought "if a man could milk a cow a boy could milk a calf," and having tried the experiment he got kicked heels over head. Jack ran to the house and told his father what had happened, closing with the remark that "he did not care how quick the butcher came and got that calf!" WAY up in California a friend who receives the Magazine writes: DEAR DRAWER,--I send a draft for at least part of my indebtedness to you for the many side-splitters which I have enjoyed since I have been reading the Magazine, which has been about five years. The good folks of this far-off country are addicted to something more than digging gold-yca, even to getting married. And such was the case in the family of Colonel P, not long since, when his daughter, in the presence of a large and select company, was joined in the holy bonds of matrimony to a Mr. Cannon. Now let it be understood that the Colonel likes a joke about as well as any man living, and as soon as the ceremony was over he arose and thus addressed the company: "I have seen double-barreled pistols, double-barreled shot-guns, and even double-barreled rifles; but," said he, pointing to the happy pair, "this is the first time in my life that I ever saw a double-barreled cannon!" THE band of the 4th Artillery is justly celebrated for the excellence of its music. The present head-quarters of the regiment is at Fort M'Henry, Maryland. The daily evening concerts are a most delightful entertainment to the residents of the post and visitors from the city. A few evenings since some friends of the Colonel commanding visiting the post were being regaled with very choice selections of music, when the Colonel, being desirous to know the name of a particular piece which had just been played, sent his orderly, one George, a sergeant of colored troops, to inquire. Being told by Professor Spittichi, the leader, that it was a selection from the opera of "Nebuchadnezzar," George re- THE following comes from very near the Canada turned and complaisantly informed the Colonel it line, and was perhaps as fearful to the subject of the was a selection from "de opera of Next-door-neigh-story as the great Fenian scare was to the Canucks: bor!" GENERAL J. M. TUTTLE, of Second Iowa memory, tells a good story with as much vigor as he manifested in "moving upon the enemy's works" at Fort Donelson. Of the many good things in his reminiscences of army life is the following: The General, while in command of a division at Shiloh, had in his command an inveterate old bohemian bummer, whom we will call B, and who got maudlin on every possible occasion. The General, in going the rounds on inspection-day, found B, for perhaps the fiftieth time, undergoing the usual punishment for drunkenness-lashed to the fifth wheel of the caisson. The day was intensely hot; B- lashed as aforesaid at an angle of 45°, gazing intently into the muzzle of a 6-pounder which pointed directly toward him. The General, on discovering "the situation," hailed him: "Hello, B-! what are you doing there?" B, with as much dignity as it was possible to muster, having in view the surroundings, re A few years ago some efforts were made to convert the people of Ireland to Protestantism. Missionaries went abroad to collect funds for that object; tracts, books, etc., were supplied, and the missionaries started on their errand. One of the missionaries, while traveling through Ireland, called at the cabin of an Irishman, and asked "if the man of the house was in ?" Patrick, jumping up from his low seat, quickly replied, "I'm the man, your Honor!" "Patrick, I have some very good books and papers I desire to leave you, but with the understanding that you will not let any one have them only your family till I return." "Never a one will see them, your Honor, but Biddy and the children." Not long after the departure of the missionary the parish priest, hearing of the affair, repaired to the house of Patrick, and accosted him as follows: "Patrick, I am told you have some books, tracts, etc., and I wish to see them." "I have, your riverance, and very nice ones they are indeed, but I told the gintleman that I would not let any one see them but Biddy and the children until he returned, and sure your riverance would not have me tell a lie." "If you do not give me up those books, Patrick," replied the priest, "I will turn you into a rat!" The priest immediately departed, supposing the terror of being turned into a rat would induce Patrick to give up the books. Patrick did not do so, however; but, calling Biddy, he sighingly said: "Biddy, haven't I always loved you and our dear children dearly?" "You have, Patrick; and why do you ask these questions ?" "Oh, Biddy, it's all day wid me now; the priest has jist gone, and I will have two little ears on me, hair all over me back, and a great long tail sticking out of me; and, if you have any love for your dear husband, for God's sake kill all the cats about the place!" A TRAVELER gives a cool bit of his experience for the readers of the Drawer: I was returning from New Orleans the other day on one of those magnificent steamers of the Morgan line. The sea was calm as a lake, the weather delightful, and we were progressing at the rate of about fourteen knots an hour. The delightful weather and smooth sea brought all the passengers together at dinner. Near me sat a long, lank, green-looking specimen of the genus homo, sub-genus rusticus, and directly opposite Rusticus sat Colonel G, of Texas. Rusticus devoured all the eatables within reach of his lengthy arms in an incredibly short space of time, then reaching over, he seized Colonel G's glass of water, and it disappeared at one gulp, whereupon Colonel Gremarked: "Stranger, that's decidedly cool." Upon which the stranger, smiling pleasantly, replied: "Yes; guess it had ice in it." Had there chanced to be a ship within a hundred miles the passengers thereon would doubtless have been terrified at the explosion. WHEN Beriah Magoffin was Governor of Kentucky J. H. Johnson was editing the Frankfort Commonwealth. Although violently opposed in politics, the Governor was personally a great favorite with the editor, and vice versa. While the Legislature was in session a New York man stopped at the Capitol Hotel, and in due time became fashionably drunk. He was anxious to become acquainted with the Governor. The Governor happened to be in No. 20, with various Senators and Representatives, and New York finding it out, besought divers persons to introduce him; but seeing his condition, all declined. He finally asked Mr. Johnson to do him that favor. "Certainly; come with me. Governor, allow, etc., Mr., who will represent the State of New York in the coming tobacco fair." The usual civilities having been passed, New York, steadying himself upon his heels, took a long, inebriated stare at the Governor, and abruptly waddled out of the room. "Jake," said the Governor, turning to Johnson, "don't you think your friend was a leetle too drunk to be introduced to me to-night?" "Not at all, Governor. If he hadn't been so drunk he never would have sought an introduction." A FEW days since we accompanied some friends who were making a pilgrimage to the "graves of their ancestors," in a stroll through an old burialground in "ye anciente citie" of Middletown, Connecticut; and while they were engaged, apparent ly, in the usual solemn meditation upon such of the virtues as a century or more had left still legible | upon the stones, we amused ourselves in deciphering some of the literary eccentricities among the inscriptions. Here are a few of those worthy of repetition: Upon a stone dated "1682:" "Beneathe thys stonne Another, dated "1691:" "Here lyes our Deaconne Hall, Left us inne sorrowe; Doubtlesse hys goode Works wylle hym followe." Two, dated "1711" and "1807," tell the same story: "A loving wife And tender mother Left this base world T enjoy the other." Another takes up the lament after this fashion: "Beautiful flower of Middletown! How art thou cutted down! cutted down!" One of "1753" gives this brief bit of family his tory: "This lovely, pleasant child He was our only one, Altho' we've buried three before Two daughters and a son." And a rare instance of juvenile precocity is recorded in the following: "Sacred to the Memory of Charley and Varley, Sons of loving parents who died in infancy." LINES TO HER WHO CAN BEST UNDERSTAND THEM. I've wooed thee by starlight, by moonlight, by day: I ask'd for your hand, and you gave me your shoe- DEAR DRAWER,-I find some amusing anecdotes on milking cows in the last Number of Harper's. I shall tell one which I think will amuse many. We had in our employ some time ago a Frenchman whose knowledge of the English language was rather limited, but who nevertheless was never at a loss to express himself. He had occasion to go to a relative of mine in the country, at which place a younger brother of mine was staying. On his return I asked him was my brother making himself useful on the farm? His reply was: "Oh yes; he can now pull down ze milk from ze cow!" THEY use decided language and express their opinions freely in Texas, if the following is a sample: A few days since a conversation took place, n many miles from here, which I consider is too good to be kept: Lieutenant - presented his accounts to the Paymaster-who, by-the-way, was in a bad temper-who, after examining them for a few seconds, assumed as fierce an expression as possible, and in a thundering voice exclaimed, "Do you think, Sir, I am a fool?" "I don't know," said the Lieutenant, with the greatest composure; "but I've heard some people say you was!" It is perhaps needless to add that the accounts were paid with out further discussion. THE three following are from one who always reads the Drawer, and does not forget to contribute a few odds and ends occasionally: Two Irishmen and myself occupied the same room. I found them asleep one Sunday afternoon, and returning to the room again soon after I found Patrick by himself snoring away at a great rate. I awoke him, with the remark that he had a fine nap. "Yes," said he; "the only thing I remember is Johnny [the room-mate] getting up and leaving without me knowing any thing about it!" ONE day, on our trip to Atlanta with General Sherman, two teamsters belonging to different trains got into a big fuss. The day was a dark, gloomy, miserable one, and it appeared to me that they had saved up all their "cuss words" for use on just such a day as that. One of them was a loud-mouthed fellow, who, having elaborated some thousand or so of his seventeen-syllabled imprecations to the other, had stopped to rest, when the other exclaimed: "Shut up your mouth, or the sun will warp your ribs!" DEAR DRAWER,-Your contents affording me much pleasure at home and abroad, I thought I would try and repay, in part, by stating the facts in reference to a friend who formerly was subject to fits of absence of mind. Ed F- had courted, proposed, and was soon to lead Miss J- — to the altar. One evening, shortly before their marriage, he had made an engagement to go with her to spend the evening. To appear properly before her he thought it necessary to don a clean shirt. So, in his usual systematic way, he laid a nicely-ironed one out, ready to put on as soon as the other parts of his toilet had been completed. He was soon ready to assume this most useful article, when, much to his dismay, it was not to be found! He looked every where that he could possibly think of, he swore, and he stamped, but all of no avail. Finally, after sundry evolutions around the room, he came in front of a large looking-glass, and was greatly surprised to find the shirt (which he had been hunting for) hanging in graceful folds upon what was supposed to be (from the reflection) himself! He says since he got married he has never put his shirt on and then gone to look in his trunk for it. A RECTOR of the Episcopal Church has picked up the following scraps and sends them to the Drawer: In the town of J, in Western New York, a sign hangs suspended from the front of a saloon, COUSIN CHARLEY is the most precocious youngster that it was ever my lot to know. Last summer he and his little sister paid me a visit at my farm in Orange County. One day when I was taking them out for a drive a robin red-breast flew past and alighted on a fence near at hand. "Oh, what a beautiful little bird!" exclaimed Jennie. "Yes," I said; "but it's a very naughty bird; it eats up all the cherries." "What is its name?" asked Jennie. Charley, who had been listening attentively to what had been said, turned toward me with a selfsatisfied expression on his little face and shouted out: "I know; it's cherry pec(k)toral; isn't it, cousin ?" WE think this too good to be lost: Do you know Colonel Jack Hines of North Carolina? If you don't I do, and I intend to give the Drawer some knowledge of him. Jack was a valiant Colonel in the Confederate service, and fought bravely through the whole war. What he fought for he was never able exactly to discover; but Jack was happy, and would sometimes imbibe a little of the ardent, just to please surrounding friends. Upon one occasion, Jack being somewhat replenished, sat half asleep in a chair at the village tavern. General Williams entered, and soon got into an argument with Colonel Jack about the results of the late war, claiming that the South ought to have been victorious, as it was always admitted that one Southern man was equal to five full-bred Yankees. "You are right, General [hiccup]; you are right-just exactly right, I reckon [hiccup]: one Southern man is equal to five [hiccup] Yankees. You always said that [hiccup], and I am just the man to prove that you are [hiccup] right. Now, General, you see, if our people had staid in Congress it would have taken the Y-Y-Yankees, with all their population and wealth, at least twenty years to have freed the [hiccup] niggers; and even then we would have obliged them to pay for them their full value in good solid gold; but, you see [hiccup], General, we took hold of the matter, and have freed the darkeys in just about four years, and haven't got a cent for them either. You were right, Generalyou were right. Ah, don't go! Well, if you will, good-morning!" THERE lives in the city of L, in the State of Kansas, a middle-aged gentleman, Colonel The Colonel has been a Captain in the Regular Army, was a soldier in the Mexican War, and a Colonel in the Volunteer service during the late rebellion. He is now an attorney-at-law in the city of L, and is a good lawyer, highly respect- | upon a page in martial order, and in exact rank ed, and liberally patronized. The Colonel loves to and file arrangement, as copies! tell yarns, and loves to tell none better than those connected with his own exploits. Out of many others I select the following as deserving a place in the Drawer: "Well, Mr. Editor, in this instance, anxious to do my duty, I whispered to the man with the birch and ferule my profound conviction that the copy was calculated to implant in the mind of the hopeful young scholar an untruth not warranted in history, and the idea thence shooting forth would be erroneous, and perhaps an exposition of ignorance damaging both him and his teacher, for, whatever might be the opinion of the world in regard to the ethics of the question, I doubted that the Pope had ever said any thing of the kind. "During the Mexican War," the Colonel says, "I was one day ordered to carry dispatches from General Scott's head-quarters to General's head-quarters, at a distant part of the field. My way led right through the enemy's country, but the General thought that by being cautious there would be little danger. I had got about half-way on my journey when, turning a sharp point in the road, I came right upon seventeen Mexicans, mounted and armed to the teeth. I thought I was in for it, but remembered just then that the Mexicans always shut their eyes before shooting. I was on my guard. The Mexicans all drew up their pieces at once. watched until I saw their eyes shut; then I knew what was coming. I stooped down; the bullets passed over my head; I rushed into their midst; and in ten seconds had killed the whole seventeen with my sabre. Fact, sure as Gospel, I did it." Who but Harry Gilmor could match such an ex-prove it in a book, will you give me one ?" ploit ? "What, Mr. Inspector, du you go for tu say the Pope-him as burnt John Rogers at the stakedidn't say that are?" I AT our school-feast, writes the Superintendent, every body had exhibited a tolerable appetite, but one boy had eaten to repletion, so that when I saw him suddenly turn very pale, and attempt to rise from the table, I began to fear that he had made himself ill. "What's the matter, my good boy?" inquired I, while a sympathizing throng of philanthropic ladies, who had been acting as waiters upon the company, gathered around the sufferer. "Do you feel unwell?" "My stomach aches, Sir," replied the boy, with great distinctness. "Dear me!" said I, almost suffocated with my endeavors to repress laughter; "don't you think you had better go home?" "No, no, Sir," replied the lad, with determination. "It will ache a precious sight more afore I ha' done wi' him!" And I am bound to say that he did not submit to the threatened dictation, but devoured two slices of cold pudding in addition to his previous supplies, as well as an enormous hunch of bread and cheese. "Yes, I say it." "Wa'al, now, I can prove it to your eyes." "Do 80." I saw victory and triumph in every feature. "Now, Mr. Inspector, you jest be generous and just. You wouldn't give me a certifikit to teach this 'ere school last fall jest 'cause I miss'd a single question; now if I am right in this 'ere, and can "I will, indeed." "Malvina Ann Terry, come right here tu onst and bring yer English Reader with ye. I s'pose the English Reader is good enough proof, ain't it?" "Any book will do." Malvina Ann Terry was duly informed of the dispute, and bidden to open it at an extract from Pope's Essay on Man, and there I read : "In spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, One truth is clear, whatever is is right." POPE "Will ye give it up now-will ye give it up now, Mr. Inspector? Ha! ha! ha! Oh, I was sartin I had ye. You college-larnt folks don't know erery thing yet. I'll jest drop in to-night, and you be sure to have my certifikit ready; and jest look here, I say; don't you tell I couldn't git a certifikit of ye, and I won't tell a single word nor nothin' else about your mistake here to-day. Nor Malvina Ann won't tell neither, 'cause she's a little sweet on me, and I'm a little mite sweet on her. You're a rising young doctor, and I'm a rising young schoolmaster, and so, you see, we can be friends." What could I do but say nothing? Nine-tenths of that community would have believed me vanquished by the schoolmaster. By-the-by, I found before a day had passed that Malvina Ann Terry was rery "sweet" on the schoolmaster, for I heard her telling her mother (I had a room at her father's) that the schoolmaster had proved to her entire sat DEAR DRAWER,-In early life I was elected to the office of Inspector of Common Schools in a town not a thousand miles from the head of Cayuga Lake. In the discharge of my official duties I was once visiting a school in the centre of the town, said to be superior to all others in my jurisdiction, when, bestowing my attention upon the specimens of pen-isfaction, out of her English Reader, that the Docmanship submitted to me, I saw one the copy of which was this: "Whatever is is right, says the Pope." Writing was taught in those days by the teacher writing in a fair hand and with his best grace some short sentence like the above, excepting the last three words. This short sentence was called the copy, and this the pupil was to imitate, or write after, to the best of his ability. How often has my writing-book had "Many men of many minds," or "Command you may your mind from play," or some other profound proposition, with each word arrayed tor was a very ignorant, pretentious person-in fact, no better than he should be. OUR little four-year-old Carrie went with her aunt to a revival meeting. The preacher was very earnest in his delivery, and she was very much interested. "Mother," said she, when she came home, "I have heard such a smart minister--he stamped, and pounded, and made such a noise! and, by-andby, he got so mad he came out of the pulpit and shook his fists at the folks, and there wasn't any boly dared to go up and fight him!” |