~INFORMATION WANTED.~
The correspondent of a Boston paper writes as follows, after having visited the Reichstag:
"You may be sure that that man is BISMARCK; if from time to time he irons out his face wearily with his hands, as he studies a long document, or if by chance some unlucky member, attracting his disdain, calls his mind to the fact that he is in Parliament, then he starts to his feet like a war-horse, and talks with great grace and ease, always rapidly, always briefly."
Why is it that BISMARCK irons out his face? Is it because he has just washed it—or is it to conceal his identity, as the features of the Man in the Mask were ironed out?
And why does the great Minister start to his feet like a war-horse? PUNCHINELLO, not having been an Alderman or Member of Congress, recently, is not very familiar with the getting up of war horses; but the ordinary equine animal does not assume the upright posture with great readiness or grace. If PUNCHINELLO were to become a member of the Reichstag, an event now highly probable, he would like to have every adversary in debate "start to his feet like a war-horse."
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~THE ROMAUNT OF THE OYSTER.~
In the moonlight at Cattawampus We sat by the surging sea, "And O how I long for an oyster," Said FELICIA FITZ-SNYDER to me. Then I said, "Would were mine the power, Deep, deep, to the deepmost sea I would fly on the wings of an oyster To gather a pearl for thee. "Where the oysters are roystering together In the caves and the grots where they lie, And the clams with a musical clamor Rejoice when the water is high," "O, there would my spirit conduct thee. Till, as waves began to swell, Thou shoulds't rise o'er the crest of the billows, Like a VENUS upon the half-shell!" 'Twas enough: for I saw her eye stir, And ope like an oyster wide, As in accents hysteric she whispered, "No, FELIX—I'd like 'em fried!" Did she take me, alas! for a friar, Or a man of a soul austere, That pearl of my heart's Chincoteague? Oh, no, she had nothing to fear. Then we reached the hotel together And partook of two plates of fry, And I marvelled to think than an oyster Had hoisted her spirits so high. |