and Critics, all of which is set down in Writing by Mr. Orlando Tickler, one of the Order

38.—Major Roger Potter Engages to get the Kingdom of Kalorama for us, and Prepares to Depart for Washington, to Procure the Mission promised him by the Government

39.—A Remark or two concerning our Grand Opera House

40.—How certain Well-Known Adepts and Office-Seekers were Alarmed at General Roger Potter's Arrival in Washington

41.—An Adept of the Name of Ben Stretcher, and what He Does for those who Stand in Need of His Services

42.—Which Records the Singular Character of the Application made by General Roger Potter for an Office, and how he is sent Minister to the King of the Kaloramas, that being the Easiest Method of Getting Rid of Him

43.—Which Records how the General Got His Commission, and Returned to New York, with Other Things Common to Politicians

44.—General Roger Potter gets a Mission, and Returns to New York, with the Loss of his Secretary, Mr. Tickler

45.—An Affair of Gallantry that had Nearly Cost Mr. Tickler his Life, an event that would have been a Serious Loss to the Nation; also, the Story of Leon and Linda, as Told by the Critic

46.—The Renowned General Potter takes his Departure as Minister Plenipotentiary for Kalorama; as, also, a True and Accurate Account of What Took Place when the Ship Crossed the Line. To which is Added the Sad History of Spark Island

47.—Which Describes the Rejoicing that Took Place when the General Landed at Buzabub, on the Coast of Kalorama

48.—How the Renowned General Potter Spent a Night Among the Dead

49.—Sorry Trials of a Great Minister Plenipotentiary, all of which arise from his Ignorance of the Language spoken at Court

50.—The Journey to Nezub; as, also, a Curious Conversation which took place between Minister Potter and his Secretary

51.—In which is Minutely Described an Entirely New and Most Extraordinary Mode of Punishing Ministers and Secretaries of Legation

52.—Things which the Author Ventures to Assert Cannot Fail to Amuse and Instruct the Reader

53.—How the Renowned General Potter had an Army of Vagabonds sent him, and how the Terrible Battle of the Banana Hills was Fought Without Bloodshed

54.—An Amusing Result of a Great Battle

55.—Which Recounts how General Potter Condemned the Priests to Ride Asses Three Times a Day, as a Good Enough Punishment for their Intriguing; also, a Plain and Unvarnished Account of the ever-Memorable Battle of "The Miracle," in which Old Battle, the Greatest War Horse of these times, Lost his Life

56.—An Amusing Quarrel, which Arose Concerning the Government of Kolorama

57.—Which Treats of How the Ruler of a Kingdom was Carried Off into Captivity on a Mule, and how he Escaped from the Priests

58.—An Account of how the Renowned General Potter stole the Hat and Mule of a Poor Priest, that he might go in Search of his Straying Army

59.—The Vagaries of Mr. Tickler, Secretary and Critic to General Roger Potter. He Relates the Story of Angelio

60.—The Last and Most Melancholy Chapter in this Eventful History, and wherein will be found one the Most Truthful Accounts of a Warrior Returning Home Without a Kingdom, and in a Pelting Rain

THE ADVENTURES OF MAJOR ROGER SHERMAN POTTER.

CHAPTER I.

WHICH TREATS OF THINGS NOT PARTICULARLY INTERESTING, AND MIGHT HAVE BEEN OMITTED WITHOUT PREJUDICE TO THIS HISTORY.

CAPE COD, you must know, gentle reader, is my bleak native home, and the birth-place of all the most celebrated critics. The latter fact is not generally known, and for the reason that the gentry composing that fraternity acknowledge her only with an excess of reluctance. Her poets and historians never mention her in their famous works; her blushing maidens never sing to her, and her novelists lay the scenes of their romances in other lands. One solitary poet was caught and punished for singing a song to her sands; but of her codfish no historian has written, though divers malicious writers have declared them the medium upon which one of our aristocracies is founded. But I love her none the less for this.

It was a charming evening in early June. I am not disposed to state the year, since it is come fashionable to count only days. With my head supported in my left hand, and my elbow resting on my knee, I sat down upon the beach to listen to the music of the tide. Curious thoughts crowded upon my mind, and my fancy soared away into another world. The sea was bright, the breeze came soft and balmy over the land, and whispered and laughed. My bosom heaved with melting emotions; and had I been skilled in the art of love, the mood I was in qualified me for making it. The sun in the west was sinking slowly, the horizon was hung with a rich canopy of crimson clouds, and misty shadows played over the broad sea-plain, to the east. Then the arcades overhead filled with curtains of amber and gold; and the sight moved me to meditation. My soul seemed drinking in the beauties nature was strewing at the feet of her humblest, and, perhaps, most unthankful creatures. Then the scene began to change; and such was its gently-stealing pace that I became moved by emotions my tongue had no power to describe. The more I thought the more I wondered. And I sat wondering until Dame Night drew her dusky curtains, and the balconies of heaven filled with fleecy clouds, and ten thousand stars, like liquid pearls, began to pour their soft light over the land and sea. Then the "milky way" came out, as if to take the moon's watch, and danced along the serene sky, like a coquette in her gayest attire.

How I longed for a blushing maiden to tune her harp, or chant her song, just then! Though I am the son of a fisherman, I confess I thought I heard one tripping lightly behind me, her face all warm with smiles. It was but a fancy, and I sighed while asking myself what had induced it. Not a brook murmured; no willows distilled their night dews; birds did not make the air melodious with their songs; and there were no magnolia trees to shake from their locks those showers of liquid pearls which so bedew the books of our lady novelists. True, the sea became as a mirror, reflecting argosies of magic sails, and the star-lights tripped, and danced, and waltzed over the gently undulating swells. A moment more and I heard the tide rips sing, and the ground swell murmur, as it had done in my childhood, when I had listened and wondered what it meant. The sea gull, too, was nestling upon the bald sands, where he had sought rest for the night, and there echoed along through the air so sweetly, the music of a fisherman's song; and the mimic surf danced and gamboled along the beach, spreading it with a chain of phosphorous light, over which the lanterns mounted on two stately towers close by threw a great glare of light: and this completed the picture.

While contemplating the beauties before me, I was suddenly seized with a longing for fame. It was true I had little merit of my own, but as it had become fashionable at this day for men without merit to become famous, the chance for me, I thought, was favorable indeed. I contemplated my journey in quest of fame, and resolved never to falter. "Fame," I mused, "what quality of metal art thou made of, that millions bow down and worship thee?" And all nature, through her beauties, seemed returning an answer, and I arose from my reverie, and wended my way toward the cabin of my aged parents. A bright light streamed from one of the windows, serving as my beacon. I