Perhaps you have heard that old Peter Parley, when he was once in London, as he was gazing into a shop-window, seeing the twelfth-night cakes, got his coat-tail pinned to the gown of a woman, which made no small degree of fun.

Within doors there is also a frolic going on at this time. A large cake is cut up among a party of young people, who draw for the slices, and are chosen king and queen of the evening. They then draw for characters, thus making a great deal of sport.

Puzzles.

A friend has sent us the following. Will any of our readers tell us the secret?

C. B. F.

Varieties.

Once on a time, a Dutchman and a Frenchman were travelling in Pennsylvania, when their horse lost a shoe. They drove up to a blacksmith’s shop, and no one being in, they proceeded to the house to inquire. The Frenchman rapped and called out, “Is de smitty wittin?” “Shtand pack,” says Hans; “let me shpeak. Ish der plack-smit’s shop in der house?”