dough:
Our eyes are wo!
O! O!! O!!!

c10

Dev’l-in a Bakery.

Hawes, the New York baker, says: “Branch, do you know Charley Devlin?” “Yes.” “Well, Branch, I was a baker apprentice with him, and also a journeyman. He was burned and floated out of his bakery in the Fourth Ward some years since, and he desired to bake for his customers in my oven until his own was repaired. I, of course, consented. Subsequently, he became a primary politician, and for several years past has besought me to sell my bakery, and become a contractor. I hesitated for a long period, but last year, (finding that he had acquired wealth very fast,) I resolved to dispose of my bakery, and join him as a contractor. A neighbor learned my purpose, who assured me that, to his sorrow, in early life he was a politician, and that if I joined Devlin as a contractor, I would be compelled to take at least three false oaths a day throughout the year, (for which people are sent to States Prison ten years, and forever lose their suffrage,) which so alarmed me, that I abandoned my intention and narrowly escaped the portals of a dungeon, and the loss of my patronage as a baker, and my reputation as an honorable man, for which I devoutly thank the Great Disposer of Events.” We congratulated our honest friend Hawes, and warned him to beware of the Dev’l-in a bakery.

The Happy Family.—How cunning for Peter Cooper and Mayor Tiemann to send Hopeful to the Democratic General Committee, and beat Elijah F. Purdy by one vote for Chairman; and then for Daniel and Edward (the sons of Peter) to turn up Mayor and Street Commissioner. It is the more cunning, as Peter Cooper and Daniel F. Tiemann have held Municipal offices since 1828, and now, with Hopeful, have two of the most lucrative and honorable offices in America. In view of all this, Peter can well afford to give two or three upper stories of a Bowery edifice to the city for educational purposes, without feeling it very keenly. Besides, the immortality of the gift is of some moment. Verily, the Tiemanns and Coopers should be a very Happy Family; and if Death do not confuse and thwart their successful and extraordinary tactics, as with poor Joseph S. Taylor, (who, with all his faults, had a heart as big as a mountain,) they will doubtless acquire sufficient from the public teats, which they have sucked so long, to render them comfortable in their superannuation.

c11

For Pale Students, and Romantic Virgins.

In 1780, Washington defrayed the educational expenses of a youth, who was an immediate descendent of Pocahontas, and procured his passage to Scotland, where he became a student in its noble highlands. In his class were two youths, whom he loved with enthusiastic fondness. One was from Damascus, and the other from the Oriental Empire, who was born beneath the native village skies of Confucius, to whom he traced his blood. On the eve of graduation, and just prior to their departure for the remotest portions of the globe, they fondly rambled in the woods and groves, where they oft had wandered, and ascended majestic mountains, on whose celestial peaks, (with the pale moon in her zenith roaming,) they sung these pensive lines, in their favorite Alpine bowers:

When shall we three meet again?
When shall we three meet again?
Oft shall glowing hope expire;
Oft shall wearied love retire;
Oft shall death and sorrow reign,
Ere we three do meet again.

Though in distant lands we sigh,
Parched beneath a hostile sky;
Though the deep between us rolls,
Friendship shall unite our souls;
Long may this loved bower remain;
Here may we three meet again.

When the dreams of life have fled;
When its wasted lamp is dead;
When in cold oblivion’s shade,
Beauty, wealth and power are laid;
Where immortal spirits reign,
There may we three meet again.

They soon departed for their respective countries, and never met again! Alas!

“The human heart, like the muffled drum,
Is ever beating funeral marches to the grave!”

Wanted—Temperate, energetic, and impulsive young men to canvass the city for the Alligator, who can be carriers on those routes where they obtain subscribers. There are thousands of masters and misses, and fathers and mothers, and grandfathers and grandmothers who will take the Alligator. So, young men, off with your coats, and fly through the city like a tornado, for subscribers to the Alligator. And first visit the Astor, Saint Nicholas, Metropolitan, Lafarge, Everett, and other splendid Restaurants and Oyster Saloons, not one of whose proprietors will refuse the Alligator. But if they should, just let us know, and we may, in our wrath, blight their custom with our fatal jaw. And visit the Reverend Doctors Potts and Taylor, and see Brown, the fancy Sexton, and ask the loan of his magic whistle, which will guide you to victory like a wand of enchantment. If Potts and Taylor salute you like Diogenes, and Brown declines his festive and mausoleum whistle, we may haunt them with a peep through their private windows on the first dark and boisterous midnight. So, boys, look aloft, and arouse yourselves, and select your own routes without our consultation, until you desire our Alligators to serve your ecstatic patrons.

The following was written, in 1854, by Stephen H. Branch, for Ald. Orison Blunt, then Alderman of the Third Ward, but is now Supervisor from the Fifteenth Ward:

Captain Robert Creighton: Sir: I am authorized by the Corporation of the City of New York to extend to you the Freedom of the City, together with a gold box, as a testimonial of their regard for you. I might linger on the thrilling incidents connected with your fidelity to suffering humanity, from the moment you discovered the San Francisco, until you rescued from a watery grave, more than 200 distracted beings. I might touchingly allude to your tears from day to day, as witnessed by your sailors, because you could not sooner relieve the unfortunate. I might speak of the fearful responsibility you assumed in violating the insurance of your ship and valuable cargo, by deviating from your specific course; of your fearful perils amid the howling tempest; of the four inch stream of water pouring in upon you, which caused both pumps to be constantly wrought before you discovered the wreck; of the disadvantages of four hundred tons of iron, and large quantities of merchandise, in a ship of only seven hundred tons burthen; of the loss of every sail before you saw the wreck, save your foresail and mainsail. I might dwell on these historical truths, and on your affectionate regard for the rescued, but I forbear. All this, and even more, is on every tongue, and uttered around every fireside, and cannot be glorified by me. The contemplation of the good you have effected will ever be a delightful solace to you, and your humanity will be a precious inheritance to your consanguinity. The wives and children of those whose lives you have preserved will ever love you, and