[DECEMBER 21, 1861"
younger days. The Don ran in nimbly, and as time was called, set
his left pin on the scratch. Both men were in splendid condition
and came up smiling. Betting was even.
1st. round.—Peter let fly a left-hander, which was cleverly
stopped by the Don's right, while with his left he got in a rattling slogger on Pete's bugle, which made the claret fly. First blood
immediately claimed for the Don, and allowed by the referee.
After a little in-fighting, both clinched and went down, Peter
2nd. round.—Peter came up smiling, but cautious ; the Don
rushed in, a little too confidently, and got a stinger on the kissing-
trap, that started the ruby. He lost no time, however, and soon
paid it back with a right-hander on the mazzard, which made
Pete's ivory rattle. He countered lightly on the Don's goggle,
and tried to clinch, but the other was too lively, and poor Pete
went to grass with a neat upper cut just under his feed-hole. Bets
offered two to one on the Don.
3rd. round.—The Don seemed fresh, but Peter was a little groggy;
still, he seemed to show considerable game and gluttony, and led
off well with his left, getting home on the Don's lug. The latter
replied with a sharp counter which nearly closed Pete's right
peeper, and a clinch and fall left the Don on top. As Pete went
down, the Don gave him a kidney-smasher, and a cry of '' foul''
was raised, but not allowed.
Ath. and last round.—Both men showed punishment, but Peter
was much the worst off. His mug was badly cut, and his right
glim was completely doused. He was shaky on his pins, too, and
did not put his hands up till after the Don had slapped his face on
both sides. He then let fly, very wildly, and was knocked clear
home to his corner by a clever left-hander on the sore goggle. All
the sponging la the world couldn't bring him up when time was
called, so the sponge was thrown up, and the fight given to the
Don without question.
Change we the scene.
Glorianna ... the fair and noble . . . was in danger. Her
father found that she utterly refused to wed with Peter, and as he
could do nothing with her, he concluded to kill her. To this end,
he sharpened up a big butcher-knife, knocked his daughter down,
and seized her chin with one hand while in the other he grasped
the gleaming knife.
(To be Continued.)
A Brush for Baltimore.
We are told by the newspapers, that General McClellan " made
a flying visit to Baltimore," some days ago. It is to be presumed
that the General was accompanied by an escort of flying artillery,
and to be hoped that their wings brushed away some of the traitors,
from Baltimore as they swept by. That city would not be the
worse for a General sweep-out, just now.
A Change for the old Ships of the Stone Squadron.
From Whaling up the Northern Seas to Sealing up the Southern
The Abolitionist's Ophthalmia-
CABINET CONVERSATION PIECES-
Scene.—A Bureau at Washington.
The Secretary of War and the Secretary of the Navy, seated.
Table, with refreshments for two.
S. of W.—Well, or Welles, rather, what think you of this enterprise of the Stone Fleet ? will it hold water ?
S. ofN.—Won't it, though ! just wait until the plugs are pulled
S. of TT.—What! the Plugs? you don't mean to say that you've
put Baltimore men aboard of the old hulks !
S. of AT.—No I don't. I wish I had thought of it in time, though,
and I would. They'd be cheaper than stone, and sink faster, and
stick tighter in the mud, so they would, the Plug Uglies, and they'd
be a good "riddance to the upper earth, and a great blessing to the
bottom of the sea. I meant the water-plugs—the pegs upon which
hang the destinies of many a Southern port!
S. of W.—Oh ! Ah! And when the water-plugs are pulled out,
what then ?
S. of AT.—What then ? Why, then we shall rival England in our
S.of W.— How so?
S. of N.—Have our Cinque Ports.
5. of W.—Ah ! I see. Our Sink Ports—very good, indeed : you
brighten, daily. Sink with an S., and Sink with a C.
6. of ft.—Sink with a load of stones, and Sink in the Sea—that's
more to the purpose. Don't keep that bottle all to yourself.
S. of W.—There'll be a yell from the Southern ports, soon. The
very mouths of the rivers will be crying for bread.
S. of AT.—And well give 'em stone. Our Loaves will go to
S. of W.—The Loaves and the Fishes, ay! How well you remember your catechism !
S. of N.—Not much. " I would I were a boy again."
S. of W.—A Buoy, eh? To mark out your Sink Ports, I suppose.
But why sacrifice old whalers ? Their Blubber will arise in judgment,
a voice of Wailing from the deep, and Boreas will sing a De Profundi, as he sweeps his JMian harp-strings to their requiem.
S. of N— iEolian harp-strings be blowed ! Say Harpoon strings ;
and as to their blubber coming up from the deep, oil is a specific
for troubled waters, you know. The waves of rebellion may yet
feel the influence of the old whaler's oozy hold.
S. of W.—Rather a slippery Hold for some, I guess. Don't put
your hat between me and the bottle ; I object to having that Port
S. of N.—My mind is troubled about the Stone Fleet. It's about
time we heard from the old sea*-dog in command.
S. of W.—Didn't the President come out bright about that old
sea-dog, yesterday! '" We'll be sure to hear from him, somehow,"
said he, *' for his ' Bark is on the Sea.'"
S. of N—Look ! what's that in the tree at the window ? It
glares like N. P. Willis—shall I shoot ?
S. of W.—No, no! let's ring the bell, but not with a pistol.
Enter Contrabanjo, Yellow Stick in Waiting.
Banjo, who's that in the tree ?
Contrabanjo. Massa N. P. Willis, sah, a Pencillin' by the Way.
S. of W.—Order him off, Banjo, and cut down the tree. These
Conversations are copy-right for Vanity Fair.
Interesting to Almanac Makers.
The Herald, in its programme of things going to be done for
the humiliation of tbe Southern insurgents, states that Memphis,
Tenn., is to be bombarded and reduced to ashes.
<4About this time, look out for snow ;" because there is an Avalanche in Memphis, which, from the nature of things, is of course
less likely to fall in ashes than in flakes.
A Seasonable Reflection.
Since the successful exploit of Captain Wilkes, in arresting the
rebel emissaries, Mason and Slidell, upon the briny deep, may
it not be truthfully asserted that America rivals England' upon the
The Bare, Naked Truth.
There will be no Close of the year in the revolted States this
winter, on account of the scarcity of dry-goods and other Clothing