his neck'kerchief was black and tied in a swivel knot, as usual, and his trousers were canvass and had no seam on the outside of the leg. We were in error, however, in saying that there was nothing peculiar about Bill-there was, and he felt there was.-Bill wore a vest-yes, he actually wore a vest-a garment unknown to legitimate sailors since the first experiments were made in navigation.

"Bill Blummell," said the Recorder.

"Aye, aye, sir," said Bill. "But, commodore, I have got too much canvass on; just hold on till I take in a reef and put myself in ship-shape somewhat. Bear a hand here, shipmate," said he to the prisoner who sat next him in the dock"bear a hand; don't you see, you lubber, the commodore has hailed me." He put out one of the arms of his blue jacket to the 'shipmate' and pulled his own arm out of it, he did the same with his other arm-stripped off his vest as quick as he would belay a rope in a storm-got again into his blue jacket and told the commodore to steer ahead, that the docks were clear.

"You were found drunk last night," said the Recorder, "and neither knew where you were, or where you should be.” "O, as for the matter of being drunk, your honour," said Bill, "I don't see as how it's against the rules of the navy for a sailor to take his grog when he gets it. I b'leve I had a little too much ballast on board, that's a fact."

"Why didn't you go on board your ship?" asked the Recorder.

"Why, bless your eyes, commodore," said Bill," you might as well endeavour to navigate through the icebergs at the North poles, as make your way through those mountains of cotton bales on the Levee."

"You are liable to a fine," said the Recorder.

"Well, if your honour lets me off this time," said Bill," I'll clear right out of port, and keep a sharp look out for breakers ahead in future."

He was discharged.

THE WAY TO MAKE A TETOTALLER.

EVAPORATION, ITS POWER-OR, THE INGENUITY OF TIPPLING

RATS.

MR. C., commission merchant of this city, is known as an extensive holder of western produce, and his stock is not more noted for its variety than for the superiority of the several articles which he keeps on hand. His per centage on the sale of Monongahela whiskey through the year would, by a man of moderate notions, be reckoned a liberal in-coming. Customers came so quick to purchase, that, to save the trouble of too frequent a recurrence to the barrel, he has been in the habit of keeping a sample bottle in the store, always full or partially so, for their trial and inspection. He had found for a long time that the contents of the sample bottle decreased very rapidly, daily, and in a manner, at first, very mysteriously. -He soon learned, however, that "Sampson," the negro who staid in the store, was any thing but a Washingtonian, and that he tried the strength of the Monongahela oftener than the whole of his customers. Desirous to know if his conscientiousness were as large as his alimentiveness, he said to him on Monday se'n-night, "Sampson, how is it that the whiskey in the sample bottle diminishes so fast? Why it has to be filled daily!"

"Clar go', massa, I doesn't know," said Sampson, looking as serious as a converted sinner at a camp-meeting," but I tinks, massa, it is carried off by the princerples ob wot white folks calls 'waporation."

"O, you do, Sampson ?" said Mr. C.

"I does, sartin, massa," said Sampson, "'cause I tells you dat ere 'waporation's right strong; gosh, it aint left a drop o' hard cider in de country. I tinks it's dat wot makes de whiskey so scarce, and not de temp'rance movement, as dey calls it." "Well, then, Sampson," said Mr. C., "fill the bottle now, and I will cork it so tight as to prevent evaporation."

"'Es, sa," said Sampson.

He filled the bottle, his master corked it, evaporation tight, and again it was placed on the shelf. Again on Tuesday morning it was found to have decreased considerably in quantity, and still more towards noon.

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141

"Well, Sampson," said Mr. C., "I find the whiskey is still rapidly decreasing. How do you acount for it now?"

"Wa-wall, it be berry hard to 'splain, massa," said Sampson, "it be one ob dose 'sterious disappearances wot niggers can't 'count for, and wot sometimes puzzles white folks, I tell you."

"But what is your opinion?" said Mr. C.

"Wal-al, I tinks," said Sampson, "to tell goramighty's truf, dat de rats be drinkin' it, for dey hasn't joined de temp'rance 'siety, as I knows on."

"Yes," said Mr. C., "but when it would get down as low as the centre of the bottle, how would the rats manage to get at it then ?"

"Yah! yah! yah!" said Sampson, but, suppressing_suddenly his cachinnations, he added, "look heah, massa, I was just a goin' to say as how you was green. Now, does you tink as how dem ere rats wot you sees 'bout de store, and wot's so much in de cabaret at de corner-does you tink, I axes, dat seein' so many takin' juleps on de suction princerple, dat dey doesn't know the use ob a straw? Wal, I reckons dey does, massa."

"Well, then, Sampson," said Mr. C., "if the sample bottle can neither be preserved from the rats or evaporation, I must only submit to the loss, and fill it whenever it is empty. Fill it now and leave it again on the shelf, and I care not whether you cork it not.”

Mr. C. told an acquaintance of his, an apothecary, of Sampson's partiality for the sample bottle, and asked him if he could not give him some decoction to mix with it, which, while it would not visibly alter its colour or taste, would prove less agreeable to Sampson's system than the pure Monongahela. The apothecary told him he could, and, on the Tuesday before last, he furnished the required preparation. Sampson was sent out on an errand in the early part of the day, and in his absence the obnoxious ingredients were introduced into the whiskey. To give Sampson a better scope, when he returned, his master went out and staid away long enough to give the sample-tasting Sampson full play at the bottle. When he returned, he noticed a strange and peculiar rolling of Sampson's eyes; his lips were the colour of stale venison, and he had all the singular characteristics in his appearance of "a sick nigger." Mr. C. managed to keep him pretty busy, and although appearing not to notice him, closely watched his movements.

"Wo!” he'd shout, raising his leg up against his stomach, but still endeavouring to conceal his pain from his master, and again he would exclaim, "ah! e-eeh! wo-o! goramighty!" and he would brace his belly round with his hands and arms. At length, finding himself growing worse-that there was no chance of the pain abating, he threw himself on the floor and roared out, 66 O, massa, massa, dis child's a gone nigger-oh! a-ah! o-o-oh!"

SEEING THE ELEPHANT.

JIM GRISWELL.

A HARD looking case was Jim Griswell as he stood up yesterday before the Recorder, to answer to the charge of being found gloriously corned the previous night. He stood at least six feet high in his pegged boots; his face was of a clayey colour, like the Mississippi at high water mark; his hair, which was of a ginger dye, hung down over his coat collar after the old cavalier fashion; his pantaloons just descended as far as his brogans ascended, no farther; and his Kentucky jean coat was minus one of the skirts. He held before him, in both his hands, a crownless hat, against the leaf of which he kept bobbing his knee while speaking.

"Griswell," said the Recorder, "you have been found drunk." "I know it squire," said Jim, "I know it" and this he repeated in the most contrite accents, and looking round at that part of his body over which the skirt of his coat should hang -he exclaimed, "now ain't I a nice lookin' coon ?”

The Recorder, seeing he felt uneasy at parting company with the skirt of his coat, remarked, "why, you have lost the crown of your hat too!"

"Yes, I have!-I know I have, squire," said Jim, "and I tell you what it is, I don't feel any thing the more comfortable for it, particularly when it rains; and I must say, squire, you have some of the loudest kind of showers in these diggins."

"But surely," said the Recorder, "you did not imagine that wearing a hat without a crown would contribute to your comfort?"

"Yes, I did, squire," and Jim, "but now I find I was the biggest kind of a fool. Didn't the player that performed in Squire Boon's barn in our town say,

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown;'

THE VICTIM OF AMBITION.

143

but I now find it's a d―n sight better for a feller to wear a crown in his hat that to be without one."

"Well," said the Recorder, "how came you to be drunk in the streets at so late an hour last night?”

"Squire," said Jim—and his eye showed a desire to assume the melting mood, "Squire, it's a delicate pint for a young man like me to touch on, but Jim Griswell will tell the truth if he loses his hat. You see I came down from old Kaintuck with a right decent sort of a broad horn and considerable plunder. I sold them off at a smart chance of a profit, and as I never was in Orleans before, I thought I wouldn't go hum without letting folks know I seed sumthin'. So I went on a regular wake snakes sort of a spree, and I went here and there, turnin' twistin' and doublin' about, until I didn't know where or who I was. But spare my feelings, squire, and don't ask me to tell any more. Here I am in town without a rock in my pocket, without a skirt to my coat or a crown to my hat; without-but, squire, I'll say no more, I've seen the elephant, and if you let me off now I'll make a straight shute for old Kaintuck, and I'll give you leave to bake me into hoe cakes if ever you catch me here again."

The Recorder let Jim Griswell off on his parole, as he confessed he had seen the elephant!

THE VICTIM OF AMBITION.

THE fourth man on whom the Recorder, in his own polite yet dignified way, called yesterday to show cause why he had been arrested, was Richard Wright. Richard did not respond with the usual "Here, sir," but stood up in the dock. He looked like a monument erected to misery-like a flag-staff divested of its ensign, still standing over the ruins of a 'T'ippe-. canoe log-cabin-like a man turned out of office weeping over the danger which threatened his country, and inveighing against the profligacy of men in power-like any thing and every thing which told of hopes blasted, anticipations never realized, and the mind's greeny freshness prematurely withered by the storms of adversity. Could he be placed as a beaconlight on the shoal of misfortune, the most unskilful mariner would not fail to perceive there were "breakers ahead." But. we'll to his examination.