[MAY 10, 1862.
A LITTLE STORY OF A SPOUT.
Wife—u Don't you think it's about time fob me to put my furs up, George ?"
Husband.—" Up ?—what ! at your Uncle's ? Certainly, my love, that's where I
KEEP MY WATCH."
Ditto to that.
The Steamship North American brought
the following item;~
" A deputation from the British and Foreign Anti-
Slavery Society waited on Mr. Adams, the American
Minister, on the 16th, and presented an address, in
which the hope is expressed that the restoration of
the Union would be founded upon the abolition of
the cause of strife."
Amen! with all our heart. Let the abolitionists be abolished. Crush out Southern
Rebellion, and then colonize Garrison,
Phillips, Greeley & Co with their sable
brethern. Let us play St. George with the
truculent monsters and St. Patrick with
the snakes in the grass.
A Sweet Thought.
According to the Southern " beauty and
booty" idea of Northern troops, the; reason
for taking New Orleans must be that more
'lasses are to be found there than at any
other Southern port.
About the Size of Him.
From rebel sources we learn that General
Humphrey Marshall " has been compelled
to fall back near Abingdon, Va." We may
daily expect to hear reports of an earthquake somewhere in that quarter.
Plain as the Nose on your Face.
A.-—Why is the manufacture of rebel
shinplasters like a delicate surgical process ?
Q.—Because it is a rhino-plastic operation.
Iron Pegs and Shoe Pegs-
First the Union guns pegged away, then
General Mansfield Lovell Pegged Away.
INTERVIEWS WITH OUR AGGRIEVED SUBJECTS.
The Rev. Henry Ward Beecher.—We had the honor of a visit
from this eccentric but versatile divine, a few days since. After
some general statements with regard to the weather, the Rev.
gentleman produced from his pocket a copy of Vanity Fair of the
26th April, and, pointing to his portrait upon the title-page, asked
us to look at him straight in the face and say whether we considered that funny. We looked at Mr. Beecher straight in the face^
accordingly, and said we considered it funny. The Rev. gentleman then said that we had exaggerated him a good deal in our
portrait, had made his neck too thick, his legs too short, and his
hair too long. He also stated that his family and congregation
were greatly dissatisfied with the shirt-collar we had attributed to
him, which had given rise to a rumor in Brooklyn that he is in the
habit of borrowing his linen from Mr. Walter Whitman, the
originator of the grass school of poetry. Seeing that our Rev.
visitor was really hurt about the shirt-collar, we promised to mend
it at some future opportunity, upon which he took leave of us in
tolerably good spirits
The City Judge. About a week since a gentleman walked into
our office, holding in his left hand a copy of Vanity Fair, No. 122,
while with his right he pointed to the fine poem called " The City
Judge," which is printed on the last page of that number. He
introduced himself to us as Judge McCunn, the subject, in fact, of
the poem, a portion of which he proceeded to CFiticise in a fluent
manner and with judicious emphasis. The portion of the poem
selected by the Judge for his reading was the word tl rum." We
were mistaken, he said, in connecting him with rum. He had not,
in the whole course of his life, consumed so much as one gallon,
avoirdupois, of alcoholic spirits—did he look like a rummy cove ?
look at him well, and say. We scanned the Judge well, with our
experienced eye, accordingly, and, being thoroughly satisfied with
our scrutiny, said that he certainly did not look like a man upon
whom beverage had wrought its diabolical spells. Satisfied with
our dilution of the word "rum," Judge McCunn then dwelt for a
while upon the word "drum," as used by the author of the
charming poem already referred to, who implies that musical instruments of that kind were around when the Judge retired from
military service. This, on the Judge's earnest assurance, we
agreed to consider an exaggeration, although the author of the
poem claims exception for it on the grounds of the license accorded to his craft.; We then expressed to Judge McCunn our regret
that he had permitted the " rum" and the *' drum" to revel wildly
around in the purlieus of the daily papers for many months, before
he had thought of publishing any explanation regarding them.
Procrastination, remarked we, is the larcener of time. Among
the ancient Romans, the testudp, or tortoise, was the emblem of
tardiness, the hirundo, or swallow, that of speed. In this lay an
application to the case in hand viz., that while, in a rum sense, we
acquitted Judge McCunn of the hirundo, or Swallow, we must, on
the tardy count, hold him liable for the testudo, or tortoise. The
Judge complimented us upon the sagacity displayed in our decision,
and bowed himself out of our presence with an expanding smile.
And here let us apologise to our visitor for having neglected to
offer him a chair during the interview—the fact being that we felt
some delicacy in offering any of our furniture to a member of the
Bench, on account of Judge Barnard's statement that the one
upon which he sits in the Supreme Court is infested with journal-
Mr. W. C. Bryant's Duck. This elegant waterfowl waddled
into our editorial rooms on Thursday last, apparently very much
excited about something. But as we could not get any explanation from him further than what may be contained in the
words " Quack ! Quack!" we supposed that he alluded in some
way to the Evening Post, and said that we could not do anything
for him, upon which he retired with an air of extreme dejection.
, Deepening;] Shades. ,
Different kinds of nags require different kinds of hitching
apparatus : in my mind, the Night Mare is always associated with
the Evening Post! [Sentiment^y a Cavalry Officer.]
Published by Louis H. Stephens, for the Proprietors, at 116 Nassau street, N Y.