"Why," says I, anxiously, "now that the squadron has run the blockade, how are you going to get her back again?"
"By all that's iron-clad," says the grim old sea-dog, violently, "I forgot all about that."
"Ah!" says Captain Villiam Brown, pleasantly, "can't you dig a canal?"
At this moment there was a tremendous explosion; something was seen flying through the air, and then the swivel gun of the "Secretary Welles," with the Admiral's fish-basket and umbrella attached, fell beside us on the sand. In their haste to take possession of our squadron, the Confederacies had dropped some sparks from their pipes into the powder-magazine, blowing our entire armament back to us!
Providence, my boy, is evidently on our side in this war; which accounts for the fact that human naval genius has not yet entirely ruined us.
Yours, devoutly,
Orpheus C. Kerr.
LETTER LXXXVIII.
CONCERNING INTELLECTUAL GIANTS AND PINS; WITH A FEW WORDS AS TO CERTAIN DRAMATIC STREET-SCENES SUPPOSED TO BE OF DAILY OCCURRENCE; AN AFFECTING WESTERN POEM; AND A BRIEF GLIMPSE OF AN ORDINARY CAVALRY DASH.