certain difficulty in the way, which Mr. P. feared would prove fatal to his hopes.

The sea was just as smooth as glass!

And the wind all died away!

There was not enough left to ruffle a squirrel's tail. How absurd the situation! How could he ever be dashed helpless upon the rocks under such circumstances?

The tide was setting in, and as he gradually drifted towards the land, he saw the storied rocks, and even perceived Miss IDA, sitting upon a shady prominence, crocheting a tidy.

What should he do to attract her attention? How put himself in imminent peril? His anxiety for a time was dreadful, but he thought of a plan. He got out his knife and whittled the mast half through.

"Now," thought he, "if my mast and rigging go by the board, she will surely come and rescue me!"

But the mast and rigging were as obstinate as outside speculators in Wall street,—they would not go by the board,—and Mr. P. was obliged at last to break down the mast by main force. But the lady heard not the awful crash, and little weened that a fellow-being was out alone on the wild watery waste, in a shipwrecked bark! After waiting for some time, that she might ween this terrible truth, Mr. P, concluded that there was nothing to do but to spring a leak.

But he found this difficult. Kick as hard as he might, he could not loosen a bottom board. And he had no auger! The Lime Rocks were getting nearer and nearer. Would he drift safely ashore?

"Oh! how can I wreck myself, 'ere it be too late?" he cried, in the agony of his heart. Wild with apprehensions of reaching the land without danger, he sat down and madly whittled a hole in the bottom of the boat, making it, as nearly as possible, such a one as a sword fish would be likely to cut. When he got it done, the water bubbled through it like an oil-well. In fact, Mr. P. was afraid that his vessel would fill up before he was near enough for the maiden on the rocks to hear his heart-rending cries for succor. He could see her plainly now. 'Twas certainly she. He knew her by her photograph—("Twenty-five cents, sir. The American female GRACE DARLING, sir. Likeness warranted, sir.")

But she turned not towards him. Confound it! Would she finish that eternal tidy ere she glanced around?

The boat was almost full now. It would sink before she saw it! That hole must be stopped until he had drifted near enough to give vent to an agonizing cry for help.

Having nothing else convenient, Mr. P. clapped into the hole a lot of manuscripts which he had brought with him for consideration. (Correspondents who may experience apparent neglect will please take notice. It is presumed, of course, that every one who writes anything worth reading, will keep a copy of it.)

Now the rocks were comparatively near, and standing up to his knees in water, Mr. P. gave the appropriate heart-rending cry for succor. But in spite of the prevailing calm, he perceived that there was a surf upon the rocks, and a noise of many waters. At the top of his voice Mr. P. again shouted.

"Hello, IDA!"

But he soon found that he would have to hello longer as well as hello IDA, and he did it.

At last she heard him.

Dropping her work-basket, she ran to the edge of the rock, and making a trumpet of her hands, called out:

"Ahoy there! What's up?"

"Me!" answered Mr. P., "but I won't be up very long. Haste to my assistance, oh maiden! ere I sink!"

Then she shouted again:

"I've got no boat! It's over to MCCURDY's, getting caulked!"

No boat!

Then indeed did Mr. P. turn pale, and his knees did tremble.

But IDA was not to be daunted. Bounding like a chamois o'er the rocks, to her house, she quickly returned with a long coil of rope, and instantly hurled it over the curling breakers with such a strong arm and true aim, that one end of it struck Mr. P. in the face with a crack like that of a giant's whip.

He grasped the rope, and that instant his boat sank like a rock!

IDA hauled away like a steam-engine, and Mr. P.'s prow (his nose, you know,) cut through the water like a knife, in a straight line for the shore. In front of him he saw a great mass of sharp roots. He shuddered, but over them he went. On, on, he went, nor turned aside for jagged cleft or sharp-edged stone. A ship, loaded with queensware, had been wrecked near shore, and through a vast mass of broken plates, and cups, and saucers, Mr. P. went,—straight and swift as an arrow.

At last, wet, bleeding, ragged, scratched, and feint, he reached the shore. Said IDA, as she supported him towards her dwelling: "How did you ever come to be wrecked on such a day as this?"

Mr. P. hesitated. But with such a noble creature, the truth would surely be the best. He told her all.

"Oh!" said he. "Dear girl, 'twas I, myself, who hewed down my mast and scuttled my fair bark. And I did it, maiden fair! that thy brave arm might rescue me from the watery deep, (you know what a good thing it would be for both of us when it got in the papers,) and that on thy hardy bosom I might be borne—"

"Born jackass!" interrupted IDA. "I believe that everybody who comes to Newport make fools of themselves about me; but you are certainly the Champion Fool of the Lime Rocks."

Mr. P. couldn't deny it.

Alphabetical.

From the insult passed upon Count BENDETTI, at Ems, it appears that the Prussian government
does not always mind its P's and Q's.

A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME.

A Love Tale.

I.

"I won't do it—there!"

Miss ANGELINA VAVASOUR sat her little fat body down in a chair, slapped her little fat hands upon her little fat knees, swelled her little fat person until she looked like a big gooseberry just ready to burst, and then turned her little fat red face up to Mr. JOHN SMITH, who was standing before her.

"I regret," said Mr. J.S., "that you should refuse to be Mrs. JOHN SMITH." (ANGELINA shuddered.) "Might I ask you why?"

"No," said she. "Say, my age."

"But I don't object to that," said J.S.

"Well, I won't," said ANGELINA, "that's all!"

J.S. rubbed the fur on his hat the wrong way, pulled up his shirt collar, looked mournfully at the idol of his heart, and departed.

Why did she refuse him? Listen!

About a thousand or two years ago—well, perhaps we had better not go so far back—anyhow, Miss VAVASOUR had ancestors, and she was proud of them; she had a name, and she gloried in it; she had $100,000, and therefore insisted on keeping her aristocratic name; she had kept it for forty years, and was willing to take a contract for the rest of the job, though she did feel that she needed a man to slide down the hill of time with her, and she was rather fond of SMITH.

Mr. JOHN SMITH wanted to marry her for herself alone, though he had made inquiries and knew all about that $100,000.

Thus it was.

II.

"That's all!" Miss VAVASOUR had said.

But was it all? She thought it was matrimony; J.S. thought it was matter o' money, and J.S. had a long head—an awfully long head.

Mr. JOHN SMITH sat before the grate. His auburn locks, his Roman nose, his little grey eyes, his thin lips, his big ears, and each particular hair of his red whiskers, expressed intense disgust.

He was day-dreaming, seeing visions in the fire. There he saw Miss ANGELINA VAVASOUR. Her eyes were ten dollar gold pieces, her nose a little pile of ducats, each cheek seemed swelled out by large quantities of dollars, every tooth in her head was a double-eagle, and her hair was a mass of ingots. He heaved a sigh and took a fresh chew.

The tobacco seemed to refresh him; he walked the floor for a while, and then sat in his chair. Suddenly his countenance was irradiated, like a ripening squash at early morn, and he sprang to his feet, crying out, "Eureka! I'll do it."

III.

Eureka! How? What? Thus.

One month afterwards our hero presented himself at the house of Miss VAVASOUR, carrying under his arm a large volume, bound in calf.

"Miss VAVASOUR," said he, "I come to repeat my proposition to you. Will you reconsider?"

"Sir?" said she.

"Things have changed," said our hero.

"Changed!" echoed she. "What do you mean, Mr. JOHN SMITH?"

"Call me not by that vile cognomen," quoth he. "Look!" and he opened the Session Laws at page 1004.

She read:

"STATE OF NEW YORK, COUNTY OF BLANK.

I, JONATHAN JERUSALEM, Clerk of said County, do hereby certify that the following change of name has been made by the County Court of this County, viz.:

JOHN SMITH to AUGUSTUS VAVASOUR.

In testimony whereof, I have set my hand and the seal of the County, June 3d, 1870.
JONATHAN JERUSALEM, Clerk." [L.S.]

She fell into his arms, and rested her palpitating head upon his palpitating bosom. He pulled up his shirt-collar, trod on the cat, and gently whispered, "$100,000."

MORAL.

A word to the wise. Go and do like-wise. LOT.

Gummy.

The following is from a Western paper:

"At Council Buffs, Iowa, a woman who don't chew gum is out of style, and gets the cold shoulder."

Our comment upon the above is that there must be very little gumshun among the women of Council Bluffs.

"SUCH IS LIFE."

Here you see Tom, Dick, and Harry, as they looked when starting in the morning for a day's fishing.

And this is the same party, dejected, bedraggled, and foot-sore wearily making their way homeward after their day's "sport."

DOWN THE BAY.

Mr. Punchinello: It is just possible that you never went on a fine fishing excursion down the Bay with a party of nice young men. If you never did, don't. I confess it sounds well on paper. But it's a Deceit, a Snare, and a Hollow Mockery. I will narrate.

Some days ago I was induced (the Deuce is in it if I ever am again) to participate in a supposed festivity of this nature. In the first place, we (the excursionists,) chartered a yacht, two Hands that knew the Ropes—they looked as if they might have been acquainted with the Rope's End—and a small Octoroon of the male persuasion as waiter. As CHOWLES characteristically observed, (he is a Stock Broker, and was one of the party,) "there is nothing like a feeling of Security." So we engaged a Skipper who was perfectly familiar with the BARINGS of the Banks, and Thoroughly Posted on all Sea 'Changes, at least so CHOWLES expressed it, but then he is apt to be somewhat technical at times. This accomplished mariner was reputed to have been "Round the Horn" several times, which I am led to believe was perfectly true, as he smelt strongly of spirits when he came on board. I was much discouraged at the appearance of this Skipper, and had half a mind to give my friends the Slip when I saw him on the Wharf.

Having manned our craft, we purchased a colossal refrigerator in which to put our Bass and Weak Fish, laid in a stock of cold provisions—among other things a Cold Shoulder—plenty of exhilarating beverages, and, with Buoyant Spirits, (every Man of us,) and plenty of ice on board, started on the slack of the Morning Tide. I regret to state that by the time we were ready to start our Skipper was half way "Over the Bay," being provided with a pocket pistol charged to the muzzle. He and his two subordinates were pretty well "Shot in the neck" by the time we reached Fort Lafoyette. The consequence of this was that we no sooner came Abreast of the reef in that locality than we got Afoul of it. For getting Afoul of the Rocks we had to Fork over twenty dollars to the captain of a tug boat which came and Snaked us off with a Coil of Rope when the tide rose.

During the time we remained stationary, the Bottle, I am sorry to say, kept going Round. All the excursionists except myself got half seas over, and when we resumed our voyage the steersman had fallen asleep, so the vessel left a Wake behind her which was extremely crooked.

We anchored that night outside Sandy Hook, and next morning cast our lines overboard, and commenced fishing. Our success in that Line was astounding, not to say embarrassing. We commenced to take Fish on an unparalleled Scale. Dog Fish and Stingarees were hauled over the side without intermission. The former is a kind of small shark. As they will Swallow anything, we Took them In very fast Although extremely voracious, they are so simple that if it were not for their size they would fell an easy prey to the Sea Gull, which, in spite of its name, is a very Wide Awake bird. Stingarees are fish of much more Penetration—their sharp tails slashing everything that comes in their way. These natural weapons, which have been furnished them by Providence as a means of defence in their Extremity, cut through a fellow's trousers like paper. The interesting creatures cut up so that we kindly consigned them, together with the dog fish, to their native element, having first benevolently knocked them on the head. Changing our location for a change of luck, we captured a superb mess of sea robins and toad fish. This satisfied us. So we pulled up anchor, not Hankering for any more such sport, and left the Hook, very glad to Hook It. We didn't have any of our toadies or robbins cooked, as those "spoils of ocean," although interesting as marine curiosities, are not considered good to eat, but each man had a Broil, as the Sun was very hot, and as CHOWLES remarked, "brought out the Gravy." That night we turned in, having been turned inside out all day. Next morning we reached home. The skipper presented his Bill in the course of the day. Although extremely exorbitant, we paid it without a murmur, being too much exhausted from casting up accounts ourselves, to bring him to Book for his misconduct. Such is the sad experience of

Yours Reverentially,

CHINCAPEN.

The Pillar of Salt (Lake.)

Lot's (of) Wife.