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GENTLEMEN–Having nothing better to do this afternoon, I vited. But, alas for poor Alice! her conciliatory efforts opened aunt Mary's desk, (she has gone to Boston,) and only made matters worse. She possessed a brilliant wit and rummaged in a most impertinently thorough manner among happy turn for repartee, by which she often unintentionally her private papers. I send you one from among many evi- || wounded the vanity of those who found themselves unable dently designed for publication, of which you may make to compete with her in the light-wordy skirmishes which so what use you deem praper. If you choose to publish it, tly arise between beaux and belles; and, therefore, you need feel no " honourable scruples" about doing so, as I she was decided to be “ sarcastic." And what more forwill “ take the responsibility" with aunt Mary. I do want midable character could a young lady possess ? Many a to astonish her by the sight of one of her unpublished gentleman sat a whole evening longing to approach her, but sketches, (withheld by the fear of an editorial rejection, I deterred by the fear of her terrrible propensity, while Alice know,) duly set forth and displayed in the recherche co sat apart, the perfect picture of innocent unconsciousness. lumns of the New Mirror. I see her even now in my men Alice certainly was an oddity, as her friends said she tal vision, (that's "refined" for “ mind's eye,) staring, rub- I would say she was nineteen, when asked her age, to the bing her spectacles to take another look, and then calling great annoyance of some of her friends who, though unde. that “ saucy, spoiled boy's to account for his “ assurance" niably her seniors, had not passed eighteen. She never in “ taking such liberties”—but she wont be as angry as would play save for dancing, or sing except in a duet when she will pretend to be, “not by no manner of means what. no one else could be found able or willing to undertake her soever, sir," as our little black Pete would say. Yours re

part, although one of the best performers in the village. spectfully.

EUGENE. She never evinced the slightest interest in the latest fashion, ALICE GRAHAM.

and was provokingly unobservant of the new dresses and “What a strange girl Alice Graham is; I really believe bonnets which appeared in church ; and then, whenever any she thinks more of one of those dull books over which she of the more daring of the village beaux mustered courage is forever pouring, than of all the beaux in the country to make an evening call at Dr. Graham's, she would, after round. She'll never get married if she goes on in this way | exchanging the customary salutations with them, go up to -she's past nineteen now."

her own room to pursue her reading undisturbed ; leaving “ The better for us, my dear. If she was as affable as to her mother the task of entertaining the visiters. Who she is beautiful, we should have no chance."

ever saw such strange behaviour? As if she was stupid “I don't know that—she would be a dangerous rival cer- enough to think they came to see her mother. No wonder tainly; but, luckily, there is no likelihood of her powers that the gentlemen discontinued their visits, and the young being put to the test. Do you know that I suspect her in- ladies really believed she was in earnest when she said she sensibility to be sheer pride. She scorns the admiration of never intended to marry. Poor Alice ! how utterly uncon. which it is impossible she is as unconscious as she appears scious she was of the many offences of which she was to be."

guilty! She never deemed herself or her movements of suf. “Oh, now you are growing malicious-so, to save your ficient consequence to attract anybody's attention; and acconscience and poor Alice's good name, I propose that we tions which were the result of her deep humility were geneset off instanter on our delectable mission, in search of a rally called " stiff airs," and attributed to coldness and pride; match for this blue silk."

and yet, everyone allowed that Alice was perfectly polite and " I'd rather undertake to find a match for half a dozen well-bred. Had those who censured her looked within their bluedamsels, the formidable Alice included—but I sup own hearts, they might have discovered that it was their in. pose we must make the attempt. You are forgetting your nate consciousness of her superiority, rather than any as. parasoi."

sumption on her part, which rendered them so exceedingly And the ladies departed, leaving all thought of Alice and sensitive to any fancied want of condescension in her de. her oddities behind them.

Alice Graham, the fair subject of the foregoing and many When Alice was about twenty years of age, a gentleman similar conversations, was the only daughter of the oldest by the name of Maitland came to M-, intending to and principal physician of our village. She was beautiful remain a few months, with a view to the perfect restoration with that purely Grecian outline of feature and classic form of his health, which was enfeebled by a long and severe so rarely met with, save in antique statues ; her dark, soul- | illness. Although convalescent, he was unwilling to dis. lit eye, and the expression of almost angelic sweetness pense entirely with the care of a physician, and frequently which ever rested on her features, betokened truly that the called upon Dr. Graham to obtain his advice in regard to mind and heart within were worthy of so fair a casket. To the various little matters so important to a recovering invalid. be sure, a very close observer might have detected a slight Dr. G. who was greatly pleased with Mr. Maitland's manner, expression of pride on that exquisite lip, but I thought it introduced his patient to Mrs. Graham and Alice—and he enhanced rather than diminished its beauty. And Alice soon became a frequent and welcome visiter at their Louse. was proud; but hers was true pride, not that peliy vanity so As his stay in the village was to be short, he made no often dignified by the name. Her life had been spent in the attempt to form any other acquaintance there, and for the almost exclusive companionship of books and her own same reason, probably, the usually friendly and inquisitive thoughts; she never evinced any inclination for society be- people of M-, made no social advances to the palc yond the limits of her own family circle ; and could it be guest at the “ American Eagle," and no remarkable surmises wondered at, that with her superiour mind and refined feel. in regard to his visits at Dr. G.'s, which they supposed to be ings, she derived little satisfaction from the idle chit-chat, exclusively of a professional nature. I was an intimate and unmeaning gallantries which often compose the chief friend and almost daily visiter of Mr. Graham's, and in conversation of young persons of her age. Hearing, how- consequence frequently met Mr. Maitland. His appearance ever, that several young ladies, whose invitations she had was gentlemanly, though not striking, but his voice was politely declined, were greatly displeased at her "airs," music itself, and the charm of his manner and conversation she determined to avoid giving such offence in future, by perfectly irresistible. I think he was the most fascinating jeining in the village parties to which she was always in-person I have ever seen. His influence, though felt by all,

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was most strikingly displa ed on the usually indifferent a discussion which had arisen in regard to a paragraph her Alice. Her book was readily abandoned at his approach, father had read aloud. I was gazing with admiration upon and he soon entered the “ charmed circle," who were her exquisite features, whicli looked pale and placid as if allowed to hear her choice songs, and after he read “Paradise | chiselled from marble, when suddenly the paper fell at her Lost" for us, while we plied the “threaded steel." Alice | feet, and after burying her face in her hands for a moment, acknowledged that it was pleasanter to listen to a good she rose and left the apartment. Her parents being still reader than to read to one's self, which she never before occupied with their newspaper argument, did not observe would admit. But these little concessions came in quite her departure ; and without making any comment, I picked naturally—there was nothing in her manner which Mr. | up the paper she had been reading, and on looking at it, Maitland, had he been a vain man, instead of the very | almost the first line which met my eye was the announcereverse, could construe into evidence of a warmer feeling ment of Mr. Maitland's marriage. I read it aloud, and than friendsnip. And he appeared to value that friendship | after waiting nearly an hour for Alice's return, Mrs. Graham highly, though he supposed that the privileges he enjoyed went in search of her, to communicate to her the news. were extended to many others.

She soon returned, saying that Alice was in her room very I was “spending the afternoon” at Mr. Graham's, about sick, having severe headache accompanied by violent fever three months after Mr. Maitland's arrival at M, and we --and bitterly reproached herself for having, while her were all seated in the parlour, when he passed the house in better judgment told her that her daughter had long needed a“ sulky."

attention, “neglected her;" until, as she feared, dangerously 'I wonder what takes Mr. Maitland to S, so often,” | ill. How little do we know of the secret springs of human said Mrs. Graham ! " I don't think he can have business | suffering, and how often is medical skill unwittingly and there. He must be well acquainted with every tree on the unavailingly employed to“ minister unto minds diseased." road by this time."

Alice was long and dangerously ill, and, ere she recovered, “He has very interesting business there, I can assure | Mr. Maitland and his bride had gone to Europe, with the you," her husband replied ; " he goes to visit a lady who is intention of permanently residing there, Mr. M.'s letters, to become Mrs. Maitland as soon as bis health is fully announcing his marriage and departure from America, restored, which will be soon, I think. I thought I had remaining unanswered in consequence of the coufusion and mentioned that to you before."

distress of mind, caused by Alice's alarming situation. When Alice was leaving the room a few moments after, 1) They never heard from him after. as she turned to pass through the door, I saw that her face Alice gradually recovered her former health, but that was pale as the lily on her bosom. That glance revealed deadly paleness remained. I never after saw the slightest to me the nature of her new friendship. Poor Alice! tinge of colour on her beautiful cheek: She seems likely to when, with a smile, she placed that flower on its pure accomplish the destiny prophesied for her by her youthful resting-place, the hopes within were bright and fair as its friends. But a gentler, more cheerful and more universally yet unfaded beauties-now, alas! those hopes were withered beloved old maid, (and there are many agreeable ones,) and dead, and the frail flower bloomed above their sepulchre, does not exist. She is often quoted in triumphant refutation as if mocking the vanity of human anticipations.

of the assertion, that none attain maturity without having Alice did not return to the parlour that afternoon, and loved. The “cold” Alice guarded her secret well—yet when summoned to tea, sent word that she had a slight head- though no mortal ear heard it, to one eye it was unconsciously ache and thought she would be better for sleep; and, in conse- betrayed. quence, her mother did not disturb her further. I returned home with a heavy heart, though as comment or warning | Messrs. Warlike Knights of the Quill and Orderly Sergeants of

THE Mirror. were now alike needless, I did not pain Mrs. Graham by disclosing my melancholy conviction. Alice rose next

PERMIT a poor private to offer your highnesses a few morning “ perfectly well," as she said with a smile, though thoughts, which, being drowned in ink, are here spread she looked very pale, and her mother at first supposed it to

out to dry in order to whet the appetite of languishing

literati. be a slight temporary indisposition ; as, however, she continued to look pale several days after, and was much stiller

AN IMAGINARY CONVERSATION. than usual even with Mr. Maitland, her mother became uneasy and talked of medical treatment—but Alice laughed\TIME_" Fifty years hence."-SCENERoom of a public

building in 3001h-steet. ---Occasion-The meeting of two for. at the idea with so much apparent merriment that, for the

mer friends, one of whom has been in a state of magnetic tortime, Mre. Graham was silenced. And now Mr. Maitland, pour for half a century who resided about twenty miles beyond S, and whose

Mr. WAKEFUL in a chair yawningly. health was fully restored, bade farewell to his friends at At length, with straining eyes, I feebly pore M-, and returned to his home-exchanging with them Upon the page of 1894. sincere expressions of regret at parting, and promises of

The earth yet moves upon its usual axis,

And we poor devils still fork out our taxes. punctual correspondence. Mrs. Graham afterwards told Despite that everything which now is done, Alice that she seemed rather indifferent at parting with so

Is reckoned something new beneath the sun,"

I feel monotonous and pine for news; valued a friend as Mr. Maitland. Poor girl! she controlled

Ye gods ! into my veins some life infuso. her feelings so far as to reply calmly to a charge, which she

(A knock at the door.) felt to be so unjust-but as she spoke I caught a brief glance

Come in.-(Looking abstractly at the door knobs.)- Those at her quickly averted face, and was startled at its ghastly knobs! Why can't my servant clean 'em. and agonized expression.

(Enter a figure in the antiquated costume of 1844.) About a fortnight after Mr. M.'s departure, we were

Ah, who are you? lingering over the tea-table at Dr. Graham's, when the

Figure._"Homo sum !

Wakeful." Nihil puto alienum."'. papers were brought in they were quickly distributed, and Figure.- I'm more-the ghost of the forgotten past, soon after Alice retreated with hers to a corner where a

To see the shadows which the future cast. light burned on a small table, to avoid being interrupted by

Wake.--(A la Macready.) -"Alas poor ghost" and first-
Figure.--I'm come at last;

A. OK. IT.

BY SAVAGE WALTER, ESQ.

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Behold in me your former classmate, Tom.
* Poor Tom's a cold.”

Wake.—(Rising.)-His memory, thongh, is warm.
I'm glad to greet thee, welcome to this place ;
But where the Dickens have you hid your face?

Tom.--The Dickens hid it truly ; years ago,
Reading his novels filled with wil and woe,
I fell asleep.

Wake.--A novel sleep, in truth.

Tom--Magnetized like,
I dreamed these fifty yenrs upon a dike.

Wake..--Like Rip Van Winkle!

Tom.-- Though Time kept the pike He took no toll of me.

IVake.- And piqued, no doubt,
Forbid the bells to toll your exit out.
I never heard of your nonentity.

Tom.-My author died, and I awoke to see
The strange realities of süturity.
I've wandered from the country to the town,
And fear I look in truth a sorry clown.
No one I knew; the faces all were strange,
Saving your own, wherein I see no change.
If anything within this time has passed
That's worth relating, tell.

Wake.- I'm glad you asked-
But while we're talking prithee take a chair
Wonders have happened, which are new and rare.

Tom.-- Well done!

Wake.- And first of all, the streets are swept Three times per year!

Tom.- Ah me! Why have I slept; Such luxury to enjoy were worth the being !

Wake. To speak but nothing of the worth of seeing. When first this Herculanean task began, Some scavengers, (sweeping in the street called Ann

(Tom rises in amazement.) Don't start! Ann-street was swept.

Toin.--Oh wondrous plan !)
Wake.Found there the skeleton of a full-grown man.
Tom.--Who was he?

Wake.--No one can truly answer.
It might be John Smith, Jr., of Arkansas,
Who for the Evening Post so ably wrote-
Perchance, he of the “claret-coloured coat”-
Or he who, stuffed with cutlets, chops and steaks,
Cried out to Sweeny, “ Hurry up them cakes."
The Post office, (which long ago was sed
With rail-road pudding and with Graham breed;
To save which w-

made himself a tartar,
And like his namesake perished as a martyr,)
Now regulated by some wholesome laws,
Has triumphed nobly for the people's cause.
Its agents, now, obliging are and polished;
And, to be frank, all franking is abolished.

Tom.-Repudiation ? is that yet the jeer That from all Europe sounds within our ear ?

Wake.---Nay! rest assured that all your fears are yain ;
America has wiped away that siain.
The stars and stripes undimmed wave o'er our head,
And-Sidney Smith died tranquil in his bed !
Tom.-Now how is England's queen ?

Wake.--Her queen's a king !
Victoria dead-God save her son," they sing.
She died of grief.

Tom.-Wiih grief-I'm almost dumb!

Wake.-- Falling in love with General Thomas Thumb! And finger.ing Thumb 100 freely, Albert shot The little hero in his garden plot. She ne'er survived the issue of that plot. [fame

Tom.-- Poor Thumb! may you be hand-ed down by
Till future dwarfs in triumph lisp ihy name.
Thou and the fat girl were in fai uated,
And all fat-uitys to death are fal.ed.
The Museums now were non-plussed, I suppose.

Wake-Oh no! they had a man who with his toes
Did seats astounding. The eccalobeon man;
Who hatched young chickens on a novel plan.

Tom.--(Nor let their mother know that they were out.)

Wake.- lle grew quite rich-soon did the people shout
His name for mayor-he had paid our debt
When credit nowhere any one could get.
So, as in ancient time geese saved a city,
Thus chickens saved another.

Tom.--More's the pity.
A chicken-hearted ser, io place the city
In such a siti-vation.

Wake.--Don't be wity!
Music at length became the staff of life,
With scores of operas the town was rife.
Then, as was naiural, the fats grew sharp,

And those odd fish, who used before to carp,
Now safely criticised, and learned to puff,
Till all were fain to cry, " Now hold, Macduff.”
Dempster, the ballad-man, for a long while
With Irish Mary sat upon the stile ;"
But, getting rather styl-ish, soon was tired,
And with : John Anderson my Joe” retired.
Then Russell, who en-chanted Shakspeare's ghosts
With divers anthems, glees, duets and toasts,
Like, as great Sampson, with one jaw-bone slew
His tens of thousands, so did Russell too.

Tom.--How with the well-dressed James of Carolina,"
Whose praise was sung by every penny.liner,
With Daniel Tucker, and with Lucy Long ?

Wake - Each long-er grew, and from a shortest song Became an opera, whose fame shall last Until the present and the future both be past.

Ton –Such operations strike me quite aghast. But was the town with siddling now as full ? (Bull

Wake -Oh yes! Ole Bull became a Herr as Herr Ole He cow.ed Miss Thespia and her last pas-seul.

Tom.—Then how with dancing ? What was its success ? Wake.--As people's brains grew strangely less and less, More thriving was the dancer's business; And light of head and light of heels you'd hear, As terms synonymous both far and near, Fanny, styled "La Deese” in impious song, Entranced the pit—the boxes-gallery long, Then left a legacy to many a knave Who wrote an L. E. G. (elegy) to deck her grave.

Tom.-What of the art which shamed all dialectics, As well as elocution, Phreno mhemo-technics ?

Wake.—The thing had many a branch-none of which Bore fruit enough to make their owners rich. Gouraud was the inventor's patentee; France sent the doctor and we paid the fee.

Tom.-- Talking of Gouraud-how's that powder man, Who whisked off whiskers with all spots of tan, Palmed off palin-soap to purify the skin, And cleanse the blood, by driving humours in!

Wake.-Trying to shavé a customer he shared himself. So barefaced was hé, then, that with his pels The public kindly laid him on the shelf.

Tom.-What of the medical school of our Alma Mater? Wake.- Made many a martyr-see the college data.

Tom.-Although at first they had a Motl-ley set, Without a Pain-we should revere them yet. 1

Wake.-Sherman, the lozenge man, once in a fit Of absent-mindedness ('twas thought) saw fit With lozenges to break a spell of cougbing. (often.

Tom.- Misguided inan! his own which he had made so Wake.-The very same! Died, and within a coffin Of lozenge shape was buried.

Tom. - He little thought
His life's avails in deait availed him nanght!

Wake. --Some thouglit he did not die, but on his own Was sent a delegate to the “ Diet of Worms". (terme,

Tom.--But how of poets,' are they better off?
Or yet with Trollope and that tribe the scoff ?

Wake.--Poems of every kind, the grave and witty,
Circulate freely through each crowded ciry.
Shakspeare has now a rival near the throne ;
A second Scott, America can own.

Tom.--I always thought, when we were settled well,
When thundering, crasliing oaks no longer fell,
That native authors' works would freely sell;
And proud reviews, across the water jeering,
Would see, at last, their rival works appearing.
-The "gollant Brigadier" I long to see.

Wak --The conquerour, Death, said, “Woodman, spare He lives in green old age-as will his memory Throughout an author's long eternity. He associates with all the shining wits, And gets up all the complimentary benrfits !

Tom.--Lives the New Mirror and its LIBRARY yet ? Their light reflections I can ne'er forget.

Wakr.-To well sustain them all the beauz were bent, And belies rang loud their praise where'er they went.

Tom.--How's Author's stock ?

Wake. -Gone up, and now at par ; No thefts of copyright their labours mar. And, by the way, those “ Pencillings by the way," Quite spoiled their author's pencilings they say: Their sale enriched him and he stopped all writing. Tom.—But may not all this be "The World's” back

biling? Wake.--Pooh! Scandal hasn't climbed to such a pitch! It makes a rich man poor-noc poor men rich The telegraph (newsmonger most terrific) Links the Ailantic and the far Pacific.

Tom.--How graphic like you tell its wondrous course ! Did its inventor never seel remorse ?

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Wake.--No, not a morsel,

The Brooklyn tunnel, and the hanging bridge Tom.- thou mighty Morse,

Which links our city to the Cattskill ridge, Who more than Franklin kept a lightning horse !

The Astor Library which now contains
How with the Croton ? does it run as yet?

The precious vintage of a million brains,
Wake.-—The Croton's bed is dry ; no more 'twill whe: The Picture Gallery which once hung on REED
The appetite or clothes of many a youth;

But now of art-a monument indeed,
No more mamma, with wringing hands, forsooth,

The towering fané which pointing to the skies Exclaims, 'tis sharper than a serpent's tooth

Reminds a nation where their father lies, To have a tank-less child.

All these I'll show you. Tom.- I'm really shocked,

Tom.-Now long I with wonder The Croton bursted and its water docked !

To " tear the trammels of the past asunder.', Wake.-Don't lear-we've something better.

Ereunt Omnes.
Tom.-Will you bet ?
A better drink no better e'er could get
“ Thou mighty Croton yet methinks I see".

THE CABINET.
Wake.-Now with a rap I'll stop your rhap-sody.
Too small, in fact, became the Croton lake,

Nine, A. M. Enter the Brigadier.
For rich and poor who wished their thirst to s-lake.

Com.--Good morning, General officer! What happy But, know you, if the Croton we have lost, Niagara's waves have now our gutters crost

circumstance procures me an invasion of my privileged And water 's fell - The fountain in the Park,

and pen-procreative hour? On your head be the ink, now So called a fountain, “ Heav'n save the mark!" Was leased unto a Mr. Mackintosh,

drying! Who, gratis, let the loafers in it wash.

Brig.-Well, how are you, mi-boy? “ Wash and be clean,” a saying was, you know;

Com.—Busy-how are you?
Wash and be dirty, now was all the go.
The aldermen, with eyes that only bats use,

Brig.- I want to talk to you a little about our parish. Ne'er thought of railings, lion mouths, or statues,

Com.-The anointed vicar of Mirrordom discourseth with And so our ladies, headed by John Neal,

his curate! Light the incense, (there's a cigar in the In conclave sat upon the fountain's weal, And spoke so earnest on the weal, and sent

carved drawer of the Cabinet,) and now Such pungent shafts of fun and merriment;

· Prithee, say on : At lasi the city with surprizing zeal,

The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim :
And with decision which had no appeal,

A matter from thee,”
Drowned Mackintosh, and turned the bathing fountain
Into a decorated watery mountain,

Brig.–You believe in Mirtordom?
And drops from rocks Niag'ra's waters dash

Com.-I do! In Gotham's sunlight pearly brightness flash.

Brig.--You believe that “the eleven thousands who Tom.-One heavy question yet weighs on my mind, Is Broadway yet with gleaming fashion lined,

with one accord offer up (that is, pony up) sixpence a week Or has the day of Balzarines declined.

for the Mirror we dispense to them, are a permanent paWake.-- Broadway should now be nicknamed Ichabod, rish-e pluribus unum? No more it answers to Dame Fashion's nod. Vexed at a lecture N. P. Willis gave,

Com. I think those who read us, love us, Brigadier ! It called a meeting, voted him a knave;

and this love is a thread which binds them into a stable and And then adjourned her promenade up town In Fourteenth-street she wanders up and down.

reliable community. Where there are eleven thousand who Tom.-Alas! what ups and downs; how are mustaches ? | buy, there are fifty thousand who read, and we may safely Wake.-Public opinion singed them all to ashes, [us? || calculate upon a Mirrordom of fifty thousand thus many

Tom.--What sheer barbarily. What next will you tell Of" heirs apparent” were we always jealous ?

of our country's fair and brave, that is to say, having grown Wake.-Yes ! "to the jealous trifles light as hair to like us, believing in our taste and capability, and heartily Are confirmations strong ?” I do declare ! Tom.-Do foreigners vote as yet?

wishing us to thrive, as their personal and literary favourites. Wake.-Foreigners, who are they?

Brig:-You believe that every one of them would like Tom.-Those who can't vote! yer taxes have to pay, And in their children's education have no say !

company to tea,” and under the influence of the Wake. We've none such now, our country free indeed,

“ second cup of green,” that they would unanimously agree Has none within her bounds, save those who read; to let us change the Mirror into anything we pleased, so as And all who do but this she thinks are fit

it was “us” and their money's-worth. Either to vote or in her councils sit,

Tom.- Texas ? say what of her ? When last I read Com. I do-particularly the “ so's-twas-us." "Twas thought her lady-ship would soon be dead.

(Here the Brigadier and Committee are supposed to A force was fitting out by Santa Anna, To vex her in a most un fitting manner.

turn and smile to the reader-gratefully, courteously Wake.-With England for awhile Miss Texas flirted,

and sigh-multaneously.) John Bull loved gores of land it was asserted, But while he toyed, and peers peered in her face,

Brig.- Well, that being the case, a thought has struck
Quaint brother Jonathan, with native grace,
Acquainted her “at length as how he guessed

Com. It has struck fire!
As guest he'd take her.**
Tom.-And perhaps 'twas best.

Brig.-(Pleased)-My tender Willis !
Upon this issue nad Bull used bis horns,

Com.—Tinder, General, at your service! Now for the And did he bellow when we bruised his corns ?Wake.-War was declared, but at the first revolt

spark! The bull knocked under to a Yankee Colt!

Brig.-The temperament of the age is accelerated. Tom.—These things amaze me so I scarce can speak ! Com.-Um--blow that spark a little!

Wake.-You yet have stronger sights to see ; a week, Brig.--Time was, when a Quarterly Review gave Though you are strong, will not suffice to seek, Wonders which might astound "that same old coon;"

literature to the public as fast as it could well be digested. So meet me at Wheeling-there the steam-balloon Monthlies superseded Quarterlies, and Weeklies are now, Will carry you for sixpence.

beyond a doubt, more popular than Monthlies. With the Tom.-When ? Wake. --By noon,

acceleration of the public pulse, as shown in railroads and For appetites the ride is quite specific,

expresses, in abridgments of labour by machinery, in L'ou'll dine on fish brought fresh from the Pacific. Tom. Is there no fear of falling as I go?

magnetic telegraphs, and regular ocean-mails, the demand To ground and lofty tumbling I'm unused you know for lighter matters is proportionally quickened. Wake.—Your fears are groundless " in toto."

Com.-We should have fallen behind the age, therefore, Tom.-In ton To this balloon I'm bound,

by backing into a Monthly—as proposed. Wake. At the depot ;

Brig.-Doubtless, mi-boy, doubtless! But see our object

our

me.

in change, either way! It was to get literature to our sixpence. We have tried the experiment fairly, and hav literary parish at reasonable postage. The Monthly costs given more good engravings than any other periodical for the but seven cents regularly, while the Weekly is changed, money, but bad plates, which must be the greater propor. according to the caprices of the postmasters, from five cents tion, are an injury to the public taste, and still so expensive to fifteen! We thought, therefore, that a monthly issue as to be no profit to the perpetrating publisher. Our subwould evade the Wickliffe persecution-forgetting that the scribers have constantly written to us to leave them out, as only change tolerable to the spirit of the age is to quicken. not worth the postage, and you, (impolitic villain !) have very

Com.-So much for preliminary. Now for the project. honestly ridiculed them in your descriptions on the first page.

Brig.-Ha! ha! (a slap on the knee from the brigadier) | They are well done with. --what should you think of a communication with the parish Com.—Amen :-(Exit the Brigadier.) of Mirrordom without postage ?

One word while we are by ourself, dear reader! We do Com.- Magnetic?

not believe that we are to be so unfortunate as to lose a sin. Brig.–Listen !-(The Brigadier's brous pucker into a gle patron by our change of shape. We shall give much complex dough-nut.)—Every man, woman or family, that more reading than before, and we shall do another thing is above want, in this country, takes a daily paper. which we could not do in the tardy system just abandoned Com.-Or ought to!

-keep a complete and entertaining chronicle of literary Brig.–Or wants to! Poker and tongs are not more matters. Read the Evening Mirror, and nothing will escape needed in “furnishing." The daily paper, then, is put you in the current of literature and the arts, while the other down among the utensils. But the youths and damsels, portions of the paper will, we confidently believe, be as aunts and matrons in the family, soon begin to sigh for ably made-up as any other paper in the Union. Our own something spicier than the daily—something that has wit time and the Brigadier's will be exclusively devoted to the and sentiment, song and story in it-food, in short, for that Evening and Weekly Mirrors, and we have the means and part of their nature that is not "in business or not in the the associates to make them eminently worth a trial. May dairy.

we ask of you, dear reader of this paragraph, that you will Com.— They want the Mirror besides the daily, you continue with us, subscribing at once to our Daily—direc. mean to say?

tions for which you will find in the following more business. Brig.–They do—and my project is to combine both ! like Ha! ha! my boy! (A vigorous emphasis on the Commit

ANNOUNCEMENT. tee's knee !) Com.-But-but

The undersigned, having for some time published a popuBrig.—You know, mi-boy, that there is a first page to a of the postmasters, from two cents to fifteen, and having

| lar periodical, the postage on which varied, at the caprice newspaper, which is frequently filled with a shovel by the sub- struggled in vain to procure from the Department either sub-editor. The second, third and fourth pages are devoted certainty or moderation, as to its cost by postage, have de. to news, statistics, politics, current events, amusements and termineil to struggle no longer against such oppressive dis. advertisements, but the first page is oftenest devoted to an

couragement, but to CHANGE THE FORM of the WEEKLY un-readable political speech, or an ill-selected extract, or Mirror, and issue in addition a Daily PAPER, to be called

zomething that, at any rate, is not “ spice and variety." THE EVENING MIRROR,

Now I propose to issue a Daily in which this neglected first page shall sparkle with wit and literature.

A JOURNAL OF LIFE AND TIMES. It will be neutral in Com.-Not a literary Daily ?

politics, and aim to embrace everything that can interest Brig.-No-not a literary Daily--but a complete and ! the business.man and the members of a family-combining, ably edited newspaper; in which shall be given all that it is intended, all the qualities of the BEST NEWSPAPER TIIAT

INDUSTRY AND EXPERIENCE CAN PUT TOGETHER. The type newspapers commonly give, and the spices of light litera- will be new and beautiful. The literary character of the ture besides ! In short, it is to be an evening paper, in editors will perhaps prepare the public for some favouring which the attraction that has drawn together the Mirror of their particular pursuits, and the usually neglected outside “parish,” shall take the place of the ordinary fillings-up— page will present a dailY LITERARY GAZETTE, edited with thus giving to our friends a daily newspaper and the Mir-their best care and spirit.

The first number will be issued on the seventh day of ror literature, at a great economy of price and postage.

October, and every succeeding evening, Sundays excepted. Com.-And will you stop the weekly ?

TERMS :-For the daily paper, six dollars per annum, Brig.-By no means, mi-boy. We shall still publish The payable half-yearly in advance. For Weekly Mirror, which will sum up the spices of the daily, and those who prefer us " in a lump' will still have the THE WEEKLY MIRROR, Mirror as usual for three dollars a-year, with three times as much reading, while those who wish for both Mirror and containing the condensed spice and variety of the six daily

papers, without advertisements, THREE DOLLARS PER ANNUN, newspaper daily, can have them in our evening sheet.

invariably in advance. Com.—The Weekly Mirror hereafter, then, will go for Advertisements at the usual prices. one cent postage.

Office, for the present, No. 4 Ann-street, where adver. Brig.-Yes, and our subscribers will get much more to

tisements and subscriptions are now received.

Postmasters will make all remittances free of postage. read, of a greater variety, and (a very important part of it)

O Editors with wliom we exchange will confer a favour newer by nearly a fortnight. The drying and pressing of | by copying this announcement, and giving us their friendly the sheets, to protect the engraving, has compelled us to aid at starting. print the Mirror ten or twelve days before its issue, so that

G. P. MORRIS. nothing recent could be noticed, and our criticisms of the

N. P. WILLIS. arts and amusements were invariably tardy.

Those who have dues from a late subscription will reCom.-And this same engraving rarely worth the trouble.ceive the Weekly Mirror. Adieu, dear reader, till we meet

Brig.-Mi-boy, there is nothing more impossible than to again, Cabinet and all, in the first number of the “ Evening give sixteen pages of letter-press and a good engraving for Mirror.”

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