is bad for delirium tremens.
But of all the hard drinkers religion has warmed,
To my mind the most hopeful's the German Reformed.

THE PET DOGS OF NEW-YORK PRESENT THEIR COMPLIMENTS, WITH THE ABOVE CUT, TO MR. BERGH, AND REQUEST THAT HE WILL CUR-TAIL THE SPORTS OF THOUGHTLESS CHILDREN WHO INSIST UPON PLAYING AT "HORSE" WITH THEM.

Logical.

One PULLMAN, who preaches the "milk of the word," (not without gin, PUNCHINELLO supposes,) declares that the BIBLE is full of lies. Well, according to his own view of it, PULLMAN must be full of Scripture.

The Real Fact.

Mr. COLFAX, says the Cincinnati Gazette, intends to call his new-born son CASABLANCA, the Vice-President having once "stood on a burning deck," etc. PUNCHINELLO discovers a shrewder reason. The plain English for Casablanca is White-House.

Concealed Weapons.

Detroit drunkards, says an exchange, use a stocking with a stone in it to avoid arrest—just as if a hat "with a brick in it" were not enough!

Written With a Steal Pen.

So great is the habit among editors of cribbing from each other, that if one were to write an article about an egg another would immediately Poach it.

The Battle of Hastings.

The fight between the Commercial Advertiser and THEODORE TILTON.

Triumphs of the Chisel.

The Wall street "busts." Good judges pronounce them Per Phidias.

What an Asthmatic Artist can not Draw.

A long breath.

"The American Working-woman's Union" Most Sought After.

MARRIAGE.

The Latest Edition of "Shoo! Fly."

"MOSQUITO" at Niblo's.

THE CONGRESSMAN TO HIS CRITICS.

Well, talk, if you like; I suppose it's your way;
Each citizen, surely, should say all his say;
I did just so, when I'd nothing to do;
And if I felt like doing so, why shouldn't you!

It's republican, pleasant, and safe, to find fault;
If a man can't do that, why he's not worth his salt.
And never, since critics (and fleas) learned their powers,
Was a country more blest with such vermin than ours.

You've learned much about your old friend, it is said;
The farther I'm from you, the plainer I'm read!
When "one of the people" comes here to make laws,
The "people" disown him. Now, what is the cause?

You say I'm not "dignified." Well, friends—are you?
My language, my manners, are rough, it is true;
My tones, and my jokes, (since you say it,) are coarse;
But very few streams rise above their own source.

If we're all "politicians," and they are such trash
As you have declared them, why were you so rash
As to give us your votes? What! will nobody "run"
But a "mere politician?" Why, then we're undone!

Come, come—this is nonsense! Be fair, my good sirs!
Let us look at this question. Suppose it occurs
That a long, prosy speech is about to be made;
If you say, "Stay and hear it," must you be obeyed?

But ours is a "serious business." True!
And so are some other things serious, too!
Such as courtships, and dinners, and headaches, and blues,
And sight-seeing friends, whom 'tis death^[1] to refuse!

Now, many of us (though it should not be said!)
Are really stupid, and haven't much head.
We don't take that view of our duty that you do;
We're often so bothered we don't know what to do!

Our votes look decided—as though we did know;
But that's because BUTLER or SCHENCK voted so.
Such points may come up, in the course of the day,
As would puzzle the Seraphim some, I should say!

Besides, gentle friends! did you ever think so?
Perhaps we are paying you all that we owe.
If you want better service, why send better men,
And be better yourselves. It will all be right, then.

[1]

Political death, of course.

Come on, Ladies!

An Anti-mustache movement has begun in Boston. PUNCHINELLO to explain that it begins altogether with the ladies, and is, of course, Right Against the mustaches.

For Lunatics Only.

The latest whim of the Lunatics in one of the Indiana Asylums is the notion that they can design and build opera-houses. Well, we have lots of crazy architecture, and more than one gentleman has acknowledged himself insane for investing in opera-houses. But PUNCHINELLO thinks that the tastes of the insane would be better encouraged if directed to the building of Courts of Justice. Every Court-house thus constructed, would be a monument to the Plea of Insanity.

GLIMPSES OF FORTUNE.

You may not think so, my dear PUNCHINELLO, but it is true. I have had them. I am not one of your bloated aristocrats—just at the present moment—but I know as well as any one what WHITTIER meant when he said "it might have been." As an instance of this, I will just state that it has not been a very long time since, in looking over the columns of one of our principal dailies, I saw something among the personals which seemed to touch my interests in, a very decided way. I often look over the "Personals," for I know well the connection between fortune and the Press. I have not forgotten the success of A.T. STEWART and many other millionaires, and their dependence on the newspapers—but never until that day had I seen any thing in that mystic column which could possibly be construed to apply to inc. As for the rest of the paper, I knew that there was nothing to interest me there. You see I was after Fortune. The advertisement to which I refer road as follows:

"If the gentleman in a dark hat and gray pantaloons, who, in a Broadway stage, one day last week, passed up the fare for a lady with blue eyes and high-heeled boots, will call at 831 Dash street, second floor, he will hear of something to his advantage. A.R.R."

Now, it so happened, that during the whole of the preceding week I had worn a black hat and gray pantaloons; indeed, I had them on yet, and, to tell the truth, I had no others. Therefore, this part of the case was all clear enough. There was no reason why the gentleman inquired for should not be me. I had certainly ridden in a stage in the last week, and I remember very well that I passed up the fare for lady with blue eyes. I performed a similar service for several ladies; but one of them, I am sure, had blue eyes. As to the high-heeled boots I suppose she wore them, but how was I to know that? At all events it would be a piece of the most culpable indifference to my welfare to neglect this chance. Fortune! and through a lady, too! To think of it! The promised advantage might be great or small, but whatever it was, it would be most welcome. And the honor, too! A piece of positive advantage for an act of manly gallantry!

I immediately put on that black hat, and with those identical gray trowsers upon my legs, I strode down to 321 Dash street, and mounted instantly to the second floor. As there was but one entrance door from the stair-way on this floor, I felt certain that I had found the right place.

The business of Mr. A.R.R. was evidently a very profitable one, for his room was quite full of people. I inquired of a boy for the author of the notice I held in my hand, (I had carefully cut it from the paper,) and was informed that this was the right place, and that the gentleman would see me in a few moments. I took a seat and regarded the persons who were standing and sitting about the room. They were all men, and in a few minutes I discovered, to my great surprise, that they all wore black hats and gray pantaloons!

I must admit, that when I made this discovery, I experienced a very peculiar sensation, as if some one had suddenly dropped a little ice-water down my back. Was it possible that all these men were here in answer to that advertisement, which I considered addressed to me alone? There were all sorts of them; old gentlemen with heads grayer than their pants; young fellows who looked like clerks; and middle-aged men, who seemed like very respectable heads of families. Was it possible that each one of those individuals had, in the last week, passed up the fare of a blue-eyed lady with high-heeled boots? And did each one of them expect to enjoy that advantage for which I came here? One thing was certain; they did not announce to each other their business, but looked at their watches and tapped their boots, and knitted their brows as if each one of them had come on very particular business, which had nothing to do with the affairs of the general crowd. But all those gray trowsers! There was no concealing them.

A door, leading into an adjoining room, now opened quickly, and Mr. A.R.R. made his appearance. No one doubted that he was the man, for he bowed politely, and seemed to expect the company. He was a tall, thin, and well-dressed man, and held in his hand a small package. Instantly upon his appearance every man in the room stuck his thumb and forefinger into his vest pocket, and pulling out a little piece of printed paper, said, "Sir, I called—" A.R.R. waved his hand.

"Gentlemen," said he, "I know why you called, and you will allow me to remark—"

"But look here," said a tall man with a blue cravat. "I think that I am the person you want to see, and as I am in a hurry, I would like to see you for a few minutes in private."

Dozens of angry eyes were now directed upon this presumptuous individual, and dozens of angry voices were about to break forth when the benign A.R.R. again waved his hand.

"Gentlemen," said he, "I wish to see you all. No one more than another. I have reason to believe that every one of you is the person to whom that advertisement referred. I see you are all gentlemen, and you would not have made your appearance here had you not fulfilled the conditions mentioned in the paper."

Here was a smothered hum, which seemed to precede a general outbreak, but A.R.R., blandly smiling, continued:

"Gentlemen, do not become impatient. What I have to say is to the advantage of every one of you. You all move in good society—I can see that—and you therefore are well aware of some of the penalties of social pleasures and high living. Consequently, gentlemen," and now he spoke very fast, as if fearful of interruption, "you must have, all of you, experienced some of the evils of indigestion, and it is to relieve these that I have prepared my Binocular Barberry Bitters—"

A roar of rage here broke forth from every man of us, and a rush was made towards the smiling impostor, but he quickly slipped through the door behind him, and locked it in our faces. And then, before we could rush from the room where we had been so shamefully duped, the head of A.R.R. appeared at a little window in the partition-wall, and he called out:

"Gentlemen, this mixture is, as my initials declare, a Radical Relief, and retails at one dollar per bottle, I hope you will take some of my circulars home with you," and he threw among the crowd the package of circulars which he had held in his hand.

This, O friend PUNCHINELLO, was only one of my Glimpses of Fortune. I may yet see the jade more nearly. IMPECUNE.

"COMPARISONS ARE ODIOUS."

Fond Mother. "YES, HE'S A PRETTY GOOD BOY, BUT HE DON'T TAKE TO HIS LETTERS."

Squire. "WELL, HE OUGHTER, FOR HIS MOUTH IS LIKE THE SLIT OF A POST-OFFICE BOX."

A TABLEAU OF THE DAY.

GENERAL DANA, WHO HAS BROUGHT THE FIRE OF THE "SUN" TO BEAR UPON EVERY BODY, NOW BEGINS TO REALIZE THE FORCE OF THE PROVERB—"FOLKS WHO LIVE IN GLASS HOUSES SHOULD NOT THROW STONES."

THE INDIAN QUESTION.

[AS VIEWED IN THE WEST.]

This is our business, understand!
You Eastern folks, with tempers bland
All get your views at second-hand.

We are the ones that take the brunt
Of every lively Indian-hunt,
So don't be angry if we're blunt.

If any body's scalped it's us!
So we've a well-earned right to cuss,
And you've no right to make a fuss.

Talk as you please about their "rights;"
That don't include their coming nights,
And cutting out our lungs and lights.

You get your wife and children shot!
(Here it might happen, like us not,)
You'll make your mind up on the spot.

"Humanity" 's played out for you!
You've got some active work to do;
No doubt you'll see it well put through.

Until you've settled that small bill,
(As honorable debtors will,)
We fancy you will not keep still.

You will admit the tender plea
Of "broken faith;" but when you see
Your Red Skin, you won't let him be!

Just so with us. We don't go back
Of our affair! We were not slack
In justice to this Devil's pack!

They settle with the wrong