SLEW HIM."

Comanche Warrior. "HOW! HOW!—GOOD!—CAIN RED MAN, EH?—ABEL WHITE MAN?—HOW! HOW! CAIN GET ABEL'S SCALP—GOOD!"

VENUS AND ADONIS

An Eclogue of the Period.

(Respectfully dedicated to the ladies of the Free-love Pantarchy.)

A LETTER FROM THE "HUB."

THE BOSS TOWN OF NEW ENGLAND,

October 1870 times.

DEAR PUNCHINELLO: Hailing (not to say reigning) from this august (and all the year round) place, I naturally feel privileged to pour my troubles into your ears, with doubts as to their length. [Length of what, troubles or ears?—ED.]

The fact is, no man was ever treated so badly or so seldom as I have been. Others have "waked up" and found themselves famous. I've practised waking for years, and never found myself in fame, or anything else, excepting energetic "tailors' bills," and an occasional square meal.

Thirsting for renown, I have coined my wealth of brains into one transcending effort, and amid much travail of genius, and travel of paw to pate, have produced the following

which I dedicate to the late Political Convention, as embodying the principles there adopted, with this difference, that, while their Resolutions have no point, my resolution enables me to make two points in every line.

While I'm not in the proverb business, I have a couple on hand that are getting mouldy, so I send 'em along.

"Once go to grass, and your enemies will soon make a hey-day over you."

"Get all you can, and can all you get."

But that reminds me of a Beautiful Tale:—

Deacon K---- lacked the confidence of the inhabitants of M----. He was most sincerely detested for his hypocrisy and double-dealing, and so very unpopular, that a few wags conceived the idea of drawing up a paper requesting him to leave town.

Once endorsed by two or three respectable names, the joke took; the paper circulated like wildfire and soon contained every business name in the place.

A most horrible position to occupy in respect to one's neighbors.

But the Deacon was a genius in his way. Getting possession of the document, he adroitly changed the heading, and behold! the intended rebuke was transformed into a humble petition to the President that Deakon K---- be appointed Postmaster of M----. In due time the appointment came, much to the consternation and chagrin of the villagers.

The position was held one season in spite of all opposition; but the Deacon did not prosper in the end, for after wandering about the streets of New York a miserable outcast, he naturally drifted on to the editorial staff of the Sun. The End.

Trusting, my dear 'NELLO, you will give me a good setting-up, and cast my lines in pleasant places, I remain,

Yours in fun,

S. R. DEEN.

TIMELY.

They now put little watches on the outside of portemonnaies and cigar-cases. There has been doubt expressed as to the value of these time-pieces; but if they go as certainly as the money and the cigars, they will do very well.

HEAVY.

There is now a strike among the blacksmiths, and as the men have already come down very heavily, it is supposed it will be successful.

ADVICE TO YOUNG LADIES.

WHEN YOU HAVE NEW DRESSES OR BONNETS TO SHOW, ALWAYS GO LATE TO CHURCH, SO THAT THERE MAY BE A FULL CONGREGATION TO PLAY OFF YOUR AIRS AND GRACES UPON.

MR. PUNCHINELLO'S POLITICAL MANUAL.

I. QUALIFICATIONS OF A VOTER.

ow and then Mr. PUNCHINELLO has noticed (with infinite scorn and contempt) all the stuff and nonsense published in the newspapers about registry and inspection, about citizenship and twenty-one years of age, and other games and devices of that soft sort. The qualifications of a voter may be stated with severe and scientific accuracy, as follows:—

Ubiquity.—By this is to be understood the power, not of being, but of belonging in from six to twelve Wards at the same time. Analogous to this is the capacity of being at once a subject of VICTORIA REGINA and a loyal citizen of the United States—a talent most exquisitely developed in the Hibernian nature.

Receptivity.—This may be divided into two classes, as follows:—

1. The material power, which is that of receiving from any candidate any sum of money which, the said ass of a candidate may be willing to pay for a vote.

2. The spiritual power, which is that of imbibing, at the expense of the aforesaid candidate, any number of fluid pounds of anything good to take, whether the same may be punches, cock-tails, smashes, slings, or plain drinks.

Pugnacity.—This is a quality by no means to be lightly spoken of, especially in a District represented by that eminent warrior, the Hon. Mr. MORRISSEY. Our fathers fought, bled, and died for liberty, and the least an independent citizen can do is to be willing to fight and bleed (and even he "kilt") in the same behalf. There is a difference, however, between dying and being "kilt," which we need not point out to those noble champions of liberty who are also of the Celtic persuasion.

II. QUALIFICATIONS OF AN EDITOR.

Mendacity.—This is a talent mainly developed in the manipulation of election returns. But it may be exhibited in various other ways. Here, for instance, is an obnoxious candidate who is a quiet, respectable, honest, church-going family man. The height of mendacious talent is shown in representing this paragon of virtue to be a brawler, a blackguard, a swindler, an infidel, and a bad husband and father. If he mildly denies that he is any such person, the proper course is to call him all the unpleasant names over again, adding, by way of clincher, that he is popularly supposed to have murdered his grandmother. This will floor him.

Verbosity.—This is the power of writing two columns in answer to a three-line paragraph—of twisting, turning, transmogrifying, dissecting, kicking, cuffing, illustrating, turning inside out, and outside in again the aforesaid paragraph. The real master of this art will show his skill by the great number of times in which he will manage to say "We" in the course of his lucubration.

III. QUALIFICATIONS OF A CANDIDATE.

Density.—This indicates the utter incapacity of a candidate to understand any public question. It is a very safe quality, for the more he knows, the less likely is he to commit himself. It is an equally pleasant quality, since it enables its possessor to take the fence and to maintain it, while, by a sort of optical delusion, each party supposes him to be upon its own side. It saves regular out and out lying, if Mr. GREELEY will allow us to use so strong a word. For instance, if asked, "Are you in favor of a Protective Tariff?" the candidate may answer, "I am" (for he doesn't know whether he is) or "I am not" (for he does not know but he may be a most cantankerous Free Trader). In this way he may, with Roman honesty, satisfy everybody, and promote peace and good-will and that sort of thing in the handsomest manner.

Capillary Attraction.—This is analogous to receptivity in the voter. If the citizen drinks hugely, the candidate must be able to keep up with him; and to have a sponge stomach equal to the absorption of quarts, and even of gallons, is a piece of excellent good fortune for the man who is fool enough to want to go to Congress, instead of enjoying the delights of obscurity. Verily, he has his reward. He who suffers in the gin-mills of New York may recover himself in the Champagne-sparkling saloons of Washington.

Pecuniosity.—"To him that hath shall be given." The candidate must beg, borrow, or steal something to begin with. He must possess a power of bleeding equal to that of twenty-four country doctors.

MR. PUNCHINELLO has here given a skeleton sketch of his great work upon politics. The reader had better make the most of it; for the Great Book will not be published until after the author's death, which he doesn't think (if he knows himself) is likely to happen tomorrow. And so he closes with a brief exhortation: Go on, worthy gentlemen! Continue to spend, drink, war, falsify, for the good of your country! Are you a Voter? Show yourself to be such indeed, by voting all day, all the time, and at all the polling-places! Are you a Candidate? Show yourself to be a good one by keeping your mouth shut (except for drinking) and your pocket open! Are you an Editor? Ah! Mr. P. has nothing to say to you. Mr. P. is an Editor too! We understand each other, worthy brother! We know where the world keeps its cakes and ale!

CAPITAL REMOVAL.

MR. PUNCHINELLO having been invited to attend and address the Capital Removal Convention (so called) held in Cincinnati, wrote a letter declining to be present, upon the ground that he was exceedingly comfortable where he was. However, he added his views at great length, but the ingrates did not even read his letter. In this he advocated the removal of the Capitol to some point so distant that twenty-three months of an Honorable Member's term of twenty-four months would be spent in going and returning. At the same time Mr. P. suggested the abolition of the salaries of the Members; and the passage of an act making it a forgery for any member to print in The Globe a never-uttered speech. But, alas for the wisdom of age! he doesn't see that the Convention acted on any of these suggestions.

SMALL POTATOES.—The "Murphy" Radicals.

VERY APPROPRIATE.

Young Man. "HELLO! MRS. CRUMBLETY, WHAT ARE YER DOIN' ALONG ER THAT NEWFOUDLING DORG?"

Mrs. C. "WELL, HE STRAYED INTO OUR HOUSE LAST NIGHT AND AS HE DIDN'T SEEM TO HAVE NO MASTER, I THOUGHT I'D JEST TAKE HIM ROUND TO THIS HERE NEW FOUNDLING HOSPITAL."

SARSFIELD YOUNG'S REMINISCENCES OF CHARLES DICKENS.

It is surprising that since Mr. DICKEN'S decease no one should have conceived the idea of writing a sketch of that illustrious author. It is perhaps too much to require that some competent person prepare his biography, but the public have a right to expect at least a few reminiscences. I am persuaded to sketch the following imperfect outlines only from a conviction that the great novelist has in this respect been neglected. I trust I shall not be deemed to have broken the seal of private confidence in this disclosing how well I knew him, and (what is still more remarkable) how well he knew me:—

[While Mr. DICKENS was on his first visit to this country, the writer had not the pleasure of his acquaintance. He put up in Philadelphia, at a well-known and fashionable boarding-house then kept by an aunt of mine, at the corner of Second and Thirteenth streets. He never said anything while there, until he came to pay his board bill, when bidding my aunt farewell, he observed: "Mrs. SAGOE, for terseness and brevity, your steaks surpass any I have ever met with." Aunt Sarah had these words neatly framed, and they have hung in her back parlor to this day.

Before he came again, the country had made wonderful progress. A new generation had been born, including myself.]

When the steamer was signalled, I went down on the wharf. DICKENS was standing near the rail, and wore a coat, vest, pants, and a hat. I couldn't make out through the glass how much they cost, and I forgot to ask him afterward. Shortly after she had hauled into the dock, I went on board. We shook hands. Mr. DICKENS had a peculiar way of reserving his right hand for this process, though on great occasions he would use both. We employed all four, with the understanding that a more formal demonstration should be made at PARKER'S. I offered to carry his valise. Graciously declining my services, he betokened his appreciation of my delicate attention by presenting me on the spot with a complete set of his works—Author's Edition.

"My dear fellow," he whispered, "there's a Boston man down below, blacking my other pair of boots, who'd feel hurt if I should let anybody else take that bag."

I called upon him as soon as he was fairly settled, and found him in his shirt-sleeves, writing vigorously. Mr. DICKENS'S intimate friends are aware that he indulged in the habit, while writing, of occasionally dipping his pen in the inkstand. I don't remember much about the room except that there were several chairs (good chairs) and a table in it. The distinguished occupant was sitting about nine and a half feet from the door facing the Southwest, his hair well brushed, head a little inclined to the right, except his eyes, which, were inclined to twinkle as though he had just hit upon something particularly bright and happy. The carpet was green with a red figure. You could see in a moment that he was a man of genius. The room