EXT came fresh April, full of lustyhed, chief guest of the evening recalled an incident in And wanton as a kid whose horne new buds; my own experience, which may perhaps amuse Upon a bull he rode, the same which led SPENSER. If it be good to be merry at all, it is especially good to be mirthful in this goodly month of April, the first day of which was by the Romans consecrated to Venus, the goddess of beauty, the mother of love, the queen of laughter, the mistress of the graces. In this cheery month the business of creation seems resumed. The vital spark rekindles in dormant existences; and all things "live, and move, and have their being." The earth again puts on her livery; the air breathes gently on our cheeks, and conducts to our ears the warblings of the birds and the odors of newborn herbs and flowers; the great eye of the world "sees and shines" with bright and gladdening glances; the waters teem with life; man himself feels the revivifying and all-pervading influence, and his 66 -spirit holds communion sweet With the brighter spirits of the sky." NEARLY fifty years ago an April Number of Blackwood's Magazine opened with a poem on April, the first verse of which is also pat to the present Number: "This being the first of April, we intend To launch out on our theme without a fetter; Shunning absurdity, it will be the delight of the Drawer in the future, as it has been in the past, to be the receptacle and recorder of the floating wit and humor of the country. Let the wags therefore continue to send on their little jocularities. some of your readers, as it serves to illustrate the indifference and contempt with which the early labors of scientists and inventors are regarded by the world at large: In the spring of 1841 I was searching for a studio in which to set up my easel. My "househunting" ended at the New York University, where I found what I wanted in one of the turrets of that stately edifice. When I had fixed my choice the janitor, who accompanied me in my examination of the rooms, threw open a door on the opposite side of the hall and invited me to enter. I found myself in what was evidently an artist's studio, but every object in it bore indubitable signs of unthrift and neglect. The statuettes, busts, and models of various kinds were covered with dust and cobwebs; dusty canvases were faced to the wall, and stumps of brushes and scraps of paper littered the floor. The only signs of industry consisted of a few masterly crayon drawings and little luscious studies of color pinned to the wall. "You will have an artist for your neighbor," said the janitor, "though he is not here much of late; he seems to be getting rather shiftless; he is wasting his time over some silly invention, a machine by which he expects to send messages from one place to another. He is a very good painter, and might do well if he would only stick to his business; but, Lord!" he added, with a sneer of supreme contempt, "the idea of telling by a little streak of lightning what a body is saying at the other end of it! His friends think he is crazy on the subject, and are trying to dissuade him from it, but he persists in it until he is almost ruined." Judge of my astonishment when he informed me that the "shiftless" individual, whose foolish waste of time so excited his commiseration, was none other than the President of the National Academy of Design—the most exalted position, in my youthful artistic fancy, it was possible for mortal to attain-S. F. B. Morse, since much better known as the inventor of the electric telegraph. But a little while after this his fame was flashing through the world, and the unbelievers who voted him insane were forced to confess that there was at least "method in his madness." A CORRESPONDENT at La Crosse, Wisconsin, whose chief pleasure appears to be in reading the concluding pages of each Number of this periodical, mentions an incident that occurred at a lec- THE amorous young man of the West is fairly ture given in that locality on the naughty habit sketched in the following from an Iowa correof gambling. The reverend lecturer said: "You spondent: A young Montana chap got on board of take a hand of cards and commence playing; you the sleeping car of our train, and said, "See here, bet 25 cents, the next man goes 50 cents better, Mr. Conductor, I want one of your best bunks for the next 'sees' it and goes 50 cents better, and I this young woman, and one for myself individu'raise' it to $100." Before going further an old ally. One will do for us when we get to the Bluff player, who had dropped in to hear what a-hey, Mariar?" (Here he gave a playful poke preacher could say about "keerds," made the at "Mariar," to which she replied, "Now, John, remark, in tones a little too audible: " "By the quit!") For, you see, we're going to git marLord, old fellow, you must have had a 'flush!" ried at Mariar's uncle's. We might 'a bin married at Montanny, but we took a habit to wait till we got to the Bluffs, being Mariar's uncle is a minister, and they charge a goshfired price for hitchin' folks at Montanny.' Mariar" was assigned to one of the best "bunks." During a stoppage of a train at a station the voice of John was heard in pleading accents, unconscious that AN artist correspondent sends the following reminiscence of one of the most gifted of American artists and inventors: In reading over the very interesting report of the dinner given in honor of Professor Morse at Delmonico's, some of the reminiscences of the 66 the train had stopped, and that his tones could be heard throughout the car. 66 "Now, Mariar, you might give a feller jes one." John, you quit, or I'll git out right here, and hoof it back to Montanny in the snow-storm!" "Only one little kiss, Mariar, and I hope to die if I don't." "John-!" Just at this time a gray-headed old party poked his head out of his berth, at the other end of the car, and cried out, “ Mariar, for God's sake, give John one kiss, so that we can go to sleep sometime to-night!" organist commenced playing one of those lively compositions with which the "performance" of religious service is now generally commenced. Just then a gentleman passing into the church invited him to enter and take a seat. "Not exactly, Mister," replied our friend; "I ain't used to such doin's on Sunday; and, besides, I don't dance!" CAN "the force of orthography further go" than in the following application to the Superintendent of the Eastern Division of the Philadelphia and Erie Railroad for a humble but responsible position in that Company? We copy John didn't ask for any more of that delicious little lip business during the evening; "Mariar" | verbatim: slept peacefully. A NEW JERSEY correspondent mentions the existence of an eccentric old farmer in his neighborhood who has the reputation of being a "freethinker," and consequently the subject of much solicitude to the village clergyman. Not long since he was taken sick, and, being quite old and feeble, his recovery was considered a matter of doubt, and the visit of the minister was desired by his family. After the usual friendly greetings were over the clergyman, to introduce the object of his visit, remarked: "Friend W- -, you are now getting to be an old man, and have lived a careless life; would it not be well to take the present opportunity to make your peace with God?" "Lord bless your soul!" replied the feeble old man, "he and I hain't never had no fallin' out yet!" THIS old gentleman's property adjoins a cemetery, and at one time a person who was looking at it with a view to purchase objected to it on this ground, and asked if its proximity did not cause him some annoyance. "No, indeed, my dear Sir," said he; "the folks in the graveyard are the peaceablest neighbors I've got!" THE American soldier, whether Federate or Confederate, is commonly supposed to become a chivalric person, especially when sick and the probabilities adverse to recovery. But how about this? When a part of General Curtis's army, under General Steele, was at Reeves Station, Missouri, a private in the Thirty-third Illinois was attacked with fever. The surgeon gave him by mistake an overdose of valerian, and his pulse sunk so rapidly that all thought him to be dying. To keep him up they gave him whisky, and when this began to operate he gasped out to his captain, "My dear captain, I think I have made my peace with God. The chaplain has read the Bible and prayed with me, and I want you to tell mother that I die happy. There is only one thing I want. I have been a soldier several months, and have done nothing for the country. If you will be kind enough to bring out one of those 'yellow legs' [Confederates] in the guardhouse, and let me shoot him, I can die in peace!" THERE are persons in Illinois who have the proper reverence for places of public worship. One of this class having had the misfortune to be detained in Chicago over Sunday, slowly sauntered down Wabash Avenue in the morning, about the hour of morning service. Arriving at the Presbyterian church, and stopping a moment, the HARTLETON December 27, 1868. Der sir i set down to in forme you that i Wod like to have a burth on the Carse at braking and i Wod if i can hav a burth. My Pos Toffice is Hartleton union Com eny time that you Wod Wont me sow let me Now co Pa J. C. B Now that President Grant is fairly seated in the presidential saddle, and entertaining his political and personal friends with appropriate hospitality, we may as well tell the following anecdote, which shows, as well as any thing we have read of him, the humorous side of his character, and his uniform solicitude that the people of his command should be well fed. He knew the truth of the old maxim, "An army moves upon its belly." Grant, at the time we speak of, was a Brigadier, commanding an expedition in Arkansas: Lieutenant Wickfield, of the Indiana Cavalry, commanded the advanced-guard of eight mounted men. Provisions were scarce on the march of 110 miles. On the third day Lieutenant Wickfield came up to a small farm-house, and, thinking there might be something to eat, accosted the inmates of the house, imperatively demanding the food; and, on being questioned, he said that he was General Grant. With loud professions of loyalty the inmates served up the best meal they could produce, and refused to accept payment; whereupon our lieutenant went on his way rejoicing. Presently General Grant came up to the same house, and asked if they would cook him some food. "No," was the answer; "General Grant and his staff have just been here, and eaten all in the house except one pumpkin-pie." Having inquired the name of the good lady who gave him his information, Grant induced her by half a dollar to promise to keep the pie till he should send for it. That evening a grand parade was ordered at half past six for orders to be read, and the troops were formed up, ten columns deep and a quarter of a mile long; officers were called to the front, and the following order was read by the Assistant Adjutant-General: "Lieutenant Wickfield, of the Indiana Cavalry, having on this day eaten every thing in Mrs. Selvidg's house, at the crossing of the Trenton and Pocahontas and Black River and Cape Giraudeau roads, except one pumpkin-pie, is hereby ordered to return with an escort of one hundred cavalry and eat that pie also.-U. S. Grant, Brigadier-General, commanding." At seven o'clock, amidst the cheers of the army, the lieutenant and his hundred men filed out of camp, and in the course of the night duly returned, and with all due formality the pie was reported as eaten. THE conversational part of the following is perhaps a little strong for a juvenile; neverthe- | cisco every spring by the whalers who cruised in less, as it is vouched for by a Yankee schoolma'am, it may as well go into type: the Okhotsk Sea and the North Pacific, and were given by them to the natives on the seacoast, who, attracted by the pictures, sought them eagerly, and circulated them in their winter wanderings throughout the interior. How far the pacific disposition, hospitality, and general good character of the Siberian natives is attributable to the refining and humanizing influences of Harper's Magazine I will not undertake to say, but that it circulates among the Tchucktchis and Koriaks regularly and extensively I know from personal observation. If the American Board of Foreign Missions would listen to the humble suggestions of a traveler among the heathen, I should propose that it buy a few thousand copies of Harper's and give them to the whalers for genéral distribution. It is generally conceded by philanthropists that education must precede conversion, and I know of no better medium of in Among her pupils was a boy of about four years, who did not speak very plainly. One day, while the others were at their studies, he got possession of a pin and string. He bent the pin in the form of a fish-hook, tied the string to it, and put on a small piece of cheese. He had seen a mouse come up through a hole in a corner of the hearth, and set himself to bob for it as though it had been a fish. He was observed, and asked what he was doing. "Fishing for a mouse," was the reply. As this was not allowed in school hours, he was ordered, as punishment, to continue bobbing. So the little fellow sat, as grave as a judge, bobbing away, until soon the mouse took a strong hold of the cheese, and the boy, giving a sudden pull, sprang into the middle of the room, and swinging the mouse around his head, astonished the whole school with the ex-struction than the said Magazine. If the exclamation, "I thwar I've got him!" A GENTLEMAN recently returned from a little pleasure trip in Kamchatka is courteous enough to send us the following note, showing that in the wildest and most uninhabitable parts of the globe Harper's Magazine and Harper's Weekly are popular with the natives. He says: I plorer of our Western prairies, who has been robbed, scalped, and left for dead by Apaches, will live for a few weeks with the Tchucktchis of Northeastern Asia-a no less barbarous tribehe will become convinced that Harper's Magazine, as a civilizing agent, is in no way inferior to a first-class missionary. WE fear there was a little self-righteousness in that venerable old sinner who, being at seventyfive on his death-bed, was fervently exhorted to the duty of repentance. 66 Repent!" answered he, indignantly; "I don't see what I have to repent of. I don't know that I ever denied myself any thing!" LOUIS NAPOLEON's dislike for journalists is tolerably well understood, and those who surround him at court of course partake of his notions toward that style of person. We have, in one of the comic journals of Paris, a report of the conversation of two old conservatives, who attributed all the misfortunes in this world to the press: "And what has become of the son of our friend X-?" "Don't ask me: he has turned out badly." "How is that? I thought he was intelligent and industrious. What has become of him?" "He has become a journalist." It is customary, I believe, among a certain class of authors to beg a favorable reception of badlywritten articles by the most exaggerated praise of your "excellent and widely-circulated Magazine." I hope, however, that it will not be attributed to any such motive if I tell you, as a mere matter of curiosity, how wide your circulation really is. I have been engaged for the past three years in explorations for the Russian American Telegraph Company in Kamchatka and Northeastern Asia, and returned only last March, via Irkutsk and St. Petersburg, to America. My duties, of course, necessitated constant and extensive travel among the wild tribes of natives who inhabit the lonely steppes between Bering Strait and the Amoor River; and you can imagine the surprise with which I met every where copies of Harper's Magazine and Weekly. knew that they were to be found in almost all parts of the habitable world, but their presence in localities which no white man had ever before visited was an almost inexplicable mystery. The walls of several native huts in Kamchatka were papered with Porte Crayon's sketches, and the proprietors evidently regarded them with pardonable pride, as incontestable evidences of their MR. DILKE having asked a Western man his own æsthetical taste and superior cultivation. I views on the Indian question, was answered: even saw in one Kamchadal yourt on the Kam-"Well, Sir, we can destroy them by the laws of chatka River a portrait, cut from Harper's Week- war, or thin 'em out by whisky-but the thinly, of Major-General Dix, and as the limited ning process is plaguy slow!" means of the owner forbade the purchase of a saint to put in the corner, our distinguished General was elevated to that sacred position, and votive candles were burning before his stern, masculine features. I suppose the poor Kamchadal thought that as he was an American he must be a saint, or that if he were not he ought to be, and he reverently crossed himself and said his daily prayers before the canonized image of a MajorGeneral in the United States Army! I learned subsequently in what way the publications of Harpers reached this neglected corner of the world. They were brought up from San Fran 66 A journalist!—and his father is such an honest man! It is incredible!" As showing the little value paid to human life throughout the mining regions in California, he quotes this brief paragraph from a mountain journal: "The Indians begin to be troublesome again in Trinity County. One man and a Chinaman have been killed, and a lady crippled for life." A CLEVER Englishman, Mr. Charles Wentworth Dilke, has recently written a book of travels entitled "Greater Britain," which has been republished by Harper and Brothers. It contains here and there a neat anecdote, new, and worthy of reproduction in the Drawer. He men- THE story goes that California boys, when asked if they believe in a future state, reply: "Guess so; California!" 66 66 ally. On one occasion, while Choate was addressing a jury, and working up the evidence into a most fantastic shape that little agreed with the Chief Justice's notes, the latter arrested him in mid-career. "I can not permit you to go on in that line of argument, Mr. Choate; I find nothing in the evidence that warrants it." Choate stopped and looked at the Chief Justice for a moment with an expression of countenance that brought a smile upon every face, and then, turning round to his assistant in the case, said, in a subdued tone, but loud enough to be heard by the bar, "The Chief Justice don't know much about law, but he is a PERFECT gentleman"-with his well-known emphasis upon perfect. ANOTHER, of Webster. A certain ex-Judge and Mr. Webster were, at one time, on very intimate terms. At a particular time, during the changes of political relations contingent upon the breaking up of the Whig party, the Judge found it convenient, perhaps profitable, to court some other rising stars, in preference to the great con THE Rev. Dr. Hawes, of Hartford, was a preacher of great power, and sometimes made personal applications of his text that made some of the brethren wince. Many of the male members of this church," he used to say, are very good Christians here in Hartford, but what are you when you go to New York?" As in Hartford, so, to some extent, in Washington. When the census-taker of the District of Colum-stitutional luminary that had hitherto been the bia was making his official round he came to the house of a wealthy member from New England. The door was opened by a black boy, to whom the white man began: "What's your name?" "Sambo, Sah, am my Christian name." "Well, Sambo, is your master a Christian?" To which Sambo's indignant answer was, "No, Sah! mass' member ob Congress, Sah!" RATHER practical people those who manage the little details connected with public worship at the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher's church. Up to a certain time the seats of pew-holders are reserved without question. After that strangers are treated with all the courtesy that time and occasion will. Now and then a presumptuous ass appears, and attempts to "travel" on his dignity; as was the case not long since, when a tall, thin- visaged gentleman, white-cravatted, presented himself, and proceeded to march into the house. "You can't go in there," said Mr. Palmer, the veteran usher. "But I am a clergyman." "We have no particular need of your services to-night, Sir." "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers," said the minister; "you may entertain angels unawares." I "Very true," said Mr. Palmer. "I have seated persons in this house for twelve years. have seen all sorts of people. I am very certain if I should see an angel I should know him. You must bide your time and take your chance, Sir." PROBABLY no more learned or upright Judge ever sat upon the bench of any court than the late Chief Justice Shaw of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts. Choate practiced a good deal before him. The two were, in most respectscertainly in mental characteristics-the opposites of each other. There was always a degree of empiricism in Choate's pleas and general management of his cases, and this was extremely obnoxious to the practical mind of the Chief Justice, who did not hesitate to snub him occasion idol of his worship, and neglected to pay his de- So, one The Judge opened the door part way, and, looking in, addressed the great man in his soft and musical tones, which had, moreover, something of pleading in them: "Good-morning, Mr. Webster." "Good-morning, Judge (with acidity, and considerable emphasis, not of the pleasant kind-still pacing backward and forward, without looking at the Judge). "A fine morning, Mr. Webster," continued the Judge, still holding the door by the knob. "A ver-r-y fine mor-r-ning, Judge." "Good-morning," replied the Judge, shortly, giving up the attempt and retiring slowly. GOOD-MOR-R-NING, Judge (with increased emphasis), when the Judge closed the door. 66 WE were remarking to a witty friend of ours, learned in the law, upon the confusion of a certain General, whose name need not be mentioned, during one of the battles of the war, and said he couldn't have known whether he was standing upon his head or his heels. "Yes," he replied, "he was in the situation of a man who had a trustee process served upon him-he was puzzled to know whether he had sued somebody, or somebody had sued him.” WE are indebted to a friend at Yankee Hill. California, for the following particulars of the untoward circumstances that terminated the recent session of the Academy of Natural Sciences at Smith's Crossings, Tuolumne County, California. It is to be deplored that organizations undertaken in the highest interests of humanity should come to so abrupt a smash: the quality of the remainder sacrificed to a delu- 66 'Frank," said he, "what is the matter with the milk?-it is half water." "I dunno, General; I didn't put no water in it," said Frank. "Some one did," said the General. Ben if he knows any thing about it." "Ask In a few moments Frank returned, and, with a very grave face, said, "General, Ben says he didn't put any water in the milk, but he watered CHRISTOPHER the cow just before milking her!" SPEAKING of climate, we find in Ross Browne's last clever work, "The Apache Country," published by the Harpers, a sketch of the warm season of that region, which is in the best style of that humorous traveler: The climate in winter is finer than that of Italy. ABOUT four hundred andve seen for use. n before THE recent contest at Albany for the United States Senatorship caused the gathering at that capital of so numerous an assemblage of politi cians that bed and board became matters of solicitude, and prices "ruled high." But Albany figures are cast in the shade by those demanded by keepers of public and private citizens during the recent Senatorial contest at Carson City, Nevada, where the rates charged for lodgings were, according to the Virginia Enterprise: "For a bed |