INTERESTING TO INVESTOR.
Weekly meetings are being held by the Department of Docks, to hear suggestions from inventors. It is expected, of course, that the latter will be willing to be tried by their Piers.
SOCIETY, ETC.
It is rather a pleasing recreation, when no other is at hand, to read the letters of some of the New York correspondents who do the heavy Trite and the small Horrible for the outside barbaric folios. Standing on the shore of their Firth of Froth, so to speak, we watch with considerable interest the unique soarings and divings of "Our Own." One of these writers informs the readers of a Boston paper that "There is a great deal of business talent in New York," and that "There is a great deal of what is called fashionable society in New York." There is wisdom in solid chunks. It is highly important that such facts as these should be stated seriously in State street and be conned in Beacon street. "Our Own," be it remembered, is speaking of the "Tone of Society," and he proceeds to remark, with great pertinence, that in our unfortunate city, "There is a coarse, rude, uncivil way of doing business, so general as to attract attention. If you do not take a hack at the impertinent solicitation of the driver, he will unquestionably curse you." "The telegraph operator grabs your message and eyes you as if you were a pickpocket." Now, Mr. PUNCHINELLO does not offer himself as an apologist for the abusive and obstreperous hackman, but he wishes to say that in the course of his active and eventful career he has had various conferences with those servants of the sidewalk, and he has never yet been unquestionably cursed by any one of the whole bad lot. Only yesterday he had occasion to intimate to one of these tide-waiters, that vehicular aid was not desired. There was a merry twinkle in the eye of the Rejected, and he added, as an additional persuader, "Baggage Smashed!" Mr. PUNCHINELLO felt gratified at sincerity in an unexpected direction.
"Our correspondent" is also exercised on the old-time grievance of ladies in the horse-cars. He declares that "It is the rarest thing in the world for a New York lady to return the slightest acknowledgement for a seat tendered to her. She takes the seat as if it were her right, and gives the gentleman a withering look for his impertinence in being in it when she entered."
PUNCHINELLO has been more fortunate. He has been crowded by sitters, and punched with umbrellas; his eloquent nose has been offended by filthy straw, full often, in his Avenue travel, until he hopes fervently that we may have a new method of getting up and down town; it isn't pleasant to be knocked down; but he has never yet been withered.