RICHARDS,
PETER MCCURDY,
EBENEZER LYONS.
JAMES MCLEON,
L. J. O'LYNN,
HENRY RICHARDSON,
Rev. THOS. DICK,
DICK E. DICKQUE DOUT.

RECOGNITION OF NILSSON.

THE YOUNG DEMOC-RATS, ENCOURAGED BY THE OLD RAT DANA, COME TO GRIEF IN TRYING TO PUT OUT THE HOFFMAN LIGHT.

A New Pierian Spring.

The Principal of the "Student's Home," at V------, N.Y., advertising the advantages of his school, makes the following telling appeal, which we should think would be hard to resist by such as find study interfere with digestion.

"COME TO V------. Its Mineral Water strengthens the body, and its Seminary the mind."

The hope of eventually leaving those classic shades in such a state of two-fold invigoration, should prove inspiring to the dyspeptic and studious.

Whether this constant cramming of the mind and purging of the body be the true secret of longevity as well as of scholarship, we know not; we should judge, however, from the appearance and conversation of students in general, that a system directly the reverse of the above mentioned process would be more certain of turning out the real article.

Spare Us!

Nor only is everybody's attention directed towards Paris, but the English Sparrows appear to be gradually Worming themselves into public estimation. They have been picking away so vigorously, since they were brought over here, that some of them are now able to pick their way across Broadway, in the muddiest weather. In course of time, we suppose the worms will disappear, and then, when these poor birds have nothing else to pick, they will go out to pic-nics. Come, arouse then, friends of the sparrow! Fetch out your bread and your grain, and fear not that these little twitterers will ever over-burden the city.

A Gourd of Honor(!)

The latest, and most important news from Spain is that SICKLES has been furnished with a guard by the government.

Some things are managed better in Spain than in this country. SICKLES should have been placed under guard, here, many a year ago, to keep him out of mischief.

"Carpe Diem."

The following telegraphic item is a remarkable instance of the exactness with which news can be transmitted by the submarine cable:

"LONDON, September 16. Mr. CHARLES REED, member of Parliament for Hackney, to-day unveiled the monument to ALEXANDER DEFOE, at Bunhill Fields. The monument in practically one to ROBINSON CRUSOE."

With the triffing exception of calling ROBINSON DEFOE ALEXANDER DEFOE, (and that is a pardonable error, considering that ALEXANDER SELKIRK was the prototype of DANIEL CRUSOE,) the above item is perfectly satisfactory. All the more so, if one pays attention to the date, and remembers that September 16 fell upon a FRIDAY.

BY TELEGRAPH FROM VARIOUS PARTS OF THE WORLD.

[Special Correspondence of Punchinello.]

BERLIN, October 15.—In a conversation with King WILLIAM, yesterday, he said that he relied upon the growing taste in Hoboken for Bavarian beer to destroy the sympathy of the United States with the French Republic.

METZ, October 12.—While examining the fortifications to-day with BISMARCK, I lent him my cigar-holder, and he told me that Prussia would refuse to entertain any propositions tending to peace until the Schleswig-Holstein question was definitely settled.

STRASBOURG, October 14—Among the priceless volumes destroyed in the library here, was a full set of ABBOTT'S NAPOLEON histories. They were all presentation copies from the author, with autograph inscriptions. The regret expressed at their destruction is deep-felt and universal.

WINDSOR, Oct. 16th.—I came up to-day with VICTORIA from Balmoral. She was engaged during most of the trip in reading HORACE GREELEY'S "What I Know About Farming," with which she is much delighted. She said she thought the satire was finer than SWIFT'S, and wondered the people did not insist upon GREELEY'S being Governor.

ROME, Oct. 15.—Talking this morning with the Pope, who took breakfast with me, His Holiness said he had accepted JAMES GORDON BENNETT'S invitation to come to Washington Heights on a visit, and wanted to know whether I thought he would be expected to wear his tiara during meals. I told him that I thought it would not be obligatory.

DUBLIN, Oct. 16.—The Irish Republic was to-day proclaimed at Cork, with GEORGE FRANCIS TRAIN as Emperor. The Fenians say they would prefer a constitutional monarchy.

PARIS, Oct. 15.—General CLUSERET assured me to-day that though Minister WASHBURNE speaks French better than a native, yet he has not entirely forgotten what little English he used to know, and further, that he is confident it is not that gentleman's intention to make himself Dictator of France by a coup d' état.

LONG BRANCH, Oct. 22—While smoking to-day with GRANT, I asked him what he thought of the European complication, and he answered with a most expressive silence.

STAYING THE MARCH.

Liberty. "HALT!"

HIRAM GREEN IN GOTHAM.

The venerable "Lait Gustise" sees the Sights, under Perplexing Difficulties.

The native borned Gothamite mite have notissed, a short time since, a venerable lookin' ex-Statesman, dressed in a becomin' soot of clothes and a slick lookin' white hat.

The a-four-said honest old man carried a bloo cotton umbreller in one hand, and an acksminister carpet bag in t'other. He had jest arroven to the meetropolis on a North River steambote. The reader has probly gessed by this time, that the man in question was the subscriber.

If he hasen't so surmised, I would inform him that it was. Jess so. Arrivin' at a well-known tavern, where hash is provided for man and beast, I handed my carpet bag over the counter.

The clerk at the offis put on rather more airs than a Revenoo offiser. In fact, he was so full of airs I got a vilent cold standin' in his pressence.

"Shan't I take that anshient circus tent?" said he, pintin' to my umbreller, "and lock it up in the safe?"

I made no reply to this onmanerly interogetory, but strikin' an attitude of pain, give him one of those gazes which BEN BUTLER allers makes tell, in tryin' criminal cases.

I looked at that clerk cross-eyed, and it made him squirm.

I wasen't blind—not much.

That clerk wanted to steel that umbreller, to send to HORRIS GREELEY, so the Filosifer could keep the reign storms of Tammany from spatterin' his white cote.

I understood his little dodge and nipped it.

"Snowball," said I, addressin' a dark skinned individual with a white apern, while I was seated at the dinner table, "what in the deuce makes all your dishes so small?"

"Dem is for one pusson, sah," said he. "Dat is an indiwidual butter dish, sah. Dem is indiwidual vegetable dishes—and dat's an indiwidual salt-cellar, sah," said he, pintin' to each piece of crockery.

I was hungry, and the crockery was soon empty.

Seein' a platter of ice cream down the table aways, I got up onto my feet, and havin' a good long arm, reached for it.

It was awful cold, and sot my stumps to achin'.

I got one holler tooth full of the stuff.

"Snowball," said I, "look here."

"Well, sah?" he replied.

"I've got my tooth full of that cold puddin'," said I, pintin' to the dish; "please bring me an individual toothpick, so I can dig it out." He vanished. I coulden't wait, so I undertook to dig it out with my fork.

A man opposite me, who thot heed play smart, sent word to the tavern-keeper that I was swollerin' his forks.

Up comes the tavern-keeper, and ketchin' holt of my cote coller, shaked me out in the middle of the dinin'-room floor.

"What in thunder are you about?" says I.

"Old man," says he, "them forks cost $9.00 a dozen. How many have you swallered?"

"Not a gol darned fork," hollered I as loud as I could screem. Gittin' onto my feet, I pulled off my cote and vest, and if I didn't make the fur fly, and give that 'ere tavern-keeper the nisest little polishin' off mortal man ever become acquainted with, then I don't understand the roodiments of the English prize ring.

At Central Park, that hily cultivated forrest, the sharpers tried to chissel me.

Just as I approched the gate which leads into the Park, a fansy lookin' feller with short hair and plad briches stopt me and says: "Unkle, you'r fair."

"You're a man of excellent judgment," I replide; "I think I am pooty good lookin' for a man of my years."

"You don't undertand me, sir," he agin said. "Come down with your stamps."

"My which?" said I, turnin' a little red in the face.

"Your gate money," he replied, tryin' to shove me back. "We charge $1.00 for goin' in here."

"You do, do you?" said I, wavin' my umbreller over his head threatenin' manner. "When our goverment resooms speshie payment agin maybe I'le send you a silver dollar with a hole into it, and maybe I won't; it will depend a good deal on the pertater crop."

I was very much agitated. Pullin' out my silver watch I says: "My sweet sented Plumbob, if you don't histe your butes away from that gate in 2 seconds I'le bust your biler with this 'ere bunch of bones," and I tickled the end of his probocis with my fist, as I gently rubbed it under his smeller.

He saw heed caught a Tarter, in fact, a regular Tarter emetic, and he slunk away rather sudden.

I had sent too many of such skinamelinks to the clay banks when I was Gustice of the Peece to allow 'em to fool me much.

I visited WOOD'S Museum to see the wacks figgers and things.

The statutes of the 12 Apostles attracted my attention.

"And this," said a ministerial long-faced lookin' man, with a white choker, "is the last supper.—What a sagacious eye has PETER got—How doubtful THOMAS looks—MATTHEW is in deep thought, probly thinkin' of the times he was a fisherman. What a longin' look in that astoot eye," said he, nudgin' me with his gold-headed cane.

"Yes," said I, "he is probly longin' for that 'ere dish of ham and eggs, in the middle of the table."

"Look at SIMON," he continered. "See! his eye rests upon his rite hand, which is closed beside him on the table. His lips are parted as if he was going to say—

"SIMON says thumbs up," I quickly replide, interruptin' him. I diden't mean anything disrespectful to nobody, but that 'ere man flew into a vilent rage.

"Can it be, that a soul so devoid of poetry lives in this age?" said he. "My venerable friend, I blush for you—yes, I blush for you, you are devoid of sentiment."

"Look here, Captin," said I, "you may be a good preacher and all that sort of thing. Excuse me for sayin' it, you hain't a BEECHER—Skarcely. H. WARD soots me—He is chock full of sentiment—at the same time he can relish a joak ekal to the best of us. Mix a little sunshine with that gloomy lookin' countenance of yours. Don't let people of the world think they must draw down their faces and colaps, because a man joaks about a lot of wacks figgers dressed up in 6 penny caliker. Them's the kind of sentiment which ales me every time." Sayin' which I storked contemptously out of the wacks figger department.

I shall remain a few days in the big city, friend PUNCHINELLO, and if the citizens of New York insist on givin' me a reception at the City Hall, I will submit to the sacrifice, especially if the vitels are well cookt. Ewers on a scare up,

HIRAM GREEN, Esq.,

Lait Gustice of the Peece.

THE CENSUS ENUMERATOR'S PLAINT.

The most appropriate kind of dish on which to serve up Horseflesh

A Charger.

SEVERE ON BYRON BUBBS.

Bubbs. "DOES YOUR SISTER NETTIE EVER TALK ABOUT ME?"

Little Rose. "OH, YES! I HEARD HER TELL MA, YESTERDAY, YOU HAD SUCH A BEAUTIFUL NECK, SO LONG THAT IT WOULD DO