before I saw a slick-headed, sharp-eyed little man, who seemed to have the principal management of the folks, looking at me pretty sharp, as much as to say, who are you? but I said nothing. and looked t'other way—at last he touched me on the shoulder -I thought he was feeling of the puckers. Are you a member? says he sartin, says I-how long have you taken your seat? says he-about ten minutes, says I. Are you qualified? says he I guess not, says I. And then he left me. I didn't know exactly what this old gentleman was after-but soon he returned, and said it was proper for me to be qualified before I took a seat, and I must go before the governor! By Jing! I never felt so before in all my born days. As good luck would have it, he was beckoned to come to a man at the desk, and as soon as his back was turned, I give him the slip. Jest as I was going off, the gentleman who bought my turkies of the 4th staller took hold of my arm, and I was afraid at first he was going to carry me to the governor-but he began to talk as sociable as if we had been old acquaintances. How long have you been in the house, Mr. Smith, says he. My name is Downing, says I. I beg your pardon, says he—I mean Downing. It's no offense, says I, I haven't been here long. Then, says he, in a very pleasant way, a few of your brother members are to take pot-luck with me to-day, and I should be happy to have you join them. What's potluck? says I. O, a family dinner, says he-no ceremony. I thought by this time I was well qualified for that without going to the Governor. So, says I, yes, and thank ye, too. How long before you'll want me? says I. At 3 o'clock, says he, and gave me a piece of paste board with his name on it, and the name of the street, and the number of his house, and said that would show

me the way. Well, says I, I don't know of nothing that will keep me away. And then we parted. I took a considerable liking to him.

After strolling round, and seeing a great many things about the State House and the marble immage of Gin. Washington, standing on a stump in the Porch, I went out into the street they call Bacon street; and my stars! what swarms of women folks I saw all drest up as if they were going to meeting. You can tell Cousin Polly Sandburn, who you know is no slimster, that she needn't take on so about being genteel in her shapes-for the genteelest ladies here beat her as to size all hollow. I don't believe one of

'em could get into our fore dore-and as for their arms-I shouldn't want better measure for a bushel of meal than one of their sleeves could hold. I sha'n't shell out the bushel of corn you say I've lost on Speaker Ruggles at that rate. But this puts me in mind of the dinner which Mr. wants I should help the Gineral Court eat. So I took out the piece of paste board

and began to inquire my way, and got along completely, and found the number the first time-but the door was locked, and there was no knocker, and I thumpt with my whip handle, but nobody come. And says I to a man going by, don't nobody live here? and says he yes. Well, how do you get in? Why, says he, ring; and says I, ring what? And says he, the bell. And says I, where's the rope? And he says, pull that little brass nub; and so I gave it a twitch, and I'm sure a bell did ring; and who do you think opened the door, with a white apron afore him? You couldn't

guess for a week a Sundays-so I'll tell you. It was Stephen Furlong, who kept our district school last winter for 5 dollars a month, and kept bachelor's hall, and helped tend for Gineral Coombs a training days, and make out muster rolls. We was considerably struck up at first, both of us; and when he found I was going to eat dinner with Mr. and Gineral Court, he thought it queer kind of doings-but says he, I guess it will be as well for

both of us not to know each other a bit more than we can help. And says I, with a wink, you're half right, and in I went. There was nobody in the room but Mr. and his wife, and not a sign of any dinner to be seen any where-though I thought now and then, when a side door opened, I could smell cupboard, as

they say.

I thought I should be puzzled enough to know what to say, but I hadn't my thoughts long to myself. Mr. has about as nimble a tongue as you ever heard, and could say ten words to my one, and I had nothing to do in the way of making talk. Just then I heard a ringing, and Stephen was busy opening the door and letting in the Gineral Court, who all had their hats off, and looking pretty scrumptious, you may depend. I didn't see but I could stand along side of 'em without disparagement, except to my boots, which had just got a lick of beeswax and tallow-not a mite of dinner yet, and I began to feel as if 'twas nearer supper-time than dinner time-when all at once two doors flew away from each other right into the wall, and what did I see but one of the grandest thanksgiving din

GINERAL COOMBS.

ners you ever laid your eyes on-and lights on the table, and silver candlesticks and gold lamps over head-the window shutters closed-I guess more than one of us stared at first, but we soon found the way to our mouths -I made Stephen tend out for me pretty sharp, and he got my plate filled three or four times with soup, which beat all I ever tasted. I sha'n't go through the whole dinner again to you-but I am mistaken if it cost me much for victuals this week, if I pay by the meal at Mr. Doolittle's, who comes pretty near up to a thanksgiving every day. There was considerable talk about stock and manufactories and lier bilities and rimidies and a great

loss on stock. I thought this a good chance for me to put in a word-for I calculated I knew as much about raising stock and keeping over as any of 'em. Says I to Mr. - -, there's one thing I've always observed in my experience in stock-just as sure as you try to keep over more stock than you have fodder to carry them well into April, one half will die on your hands, to a sartinty and there's no remedy for it-I've tried it out and out, and there's no law that can make a ton of hay keep over ten cows, unless you have more carrots and potatoes that you can throw a stick at. This made some of the folks stare who didn't know much about stock-and Steve give me a jog, as much as to say, keep quiet. He thought I was getting into a quog-mire, and soon after, giving me a wink, opened the door and got me out of the room into the entry.

After we had got out of hearing, says I to Steve, how are you getting on in the world-should you like to come back to keep our school if I could get a vote for you ?-not by two chalks, says Steve-I know which side my bread is buttered better than all that I get 12 dollars a month and found, and now and then some old clothes, which is better than keeping a school at 5 dollars and find myself and work out my highway tax besides-then turning up the cape of my new coat, says he, I guess I've dusted that before now-most likely, says I, but not in our district school. Your respectful uncle,

JOSHUA DOWNING.

I AM a poor man, but i hav this consolashun: i am poor by

acksident, not desighn.

JOSH BILLINGS.

JOHN PHOENIX RENDERS THE EDITOR OF THE "SAN DIEGO HERALD" AN ACCOUNT OF HIS STEWARDSHIP.

BY GEORGE H. DERBY.

With

"Te Deum Laudamus."-Judge Ames has returned. the completion of this article my labors are ended; and wiping my pen on my coat-tail, and placing it behind my sinister ear, with a graceful bow and bland smile for my honored admirers, and a wink of intense meaning for my enemies, I shall abdicate, with dignity, the "Arm-Chair" in favor of its legitimate proprietor. By the way, this "Arm-Chair" is but a pleasant fiction of "the Judge's "-the only seat in the Herald office being the empty nail keg, which I have occupied while writing my leaders upon the inverted sugar box that answers the purpose of a table. But such is life. Divested of its poetry and romance, the objects of our highest admiration become mere commonplaces, like the Herald's chair and table. Many ideas which we have learned to love and reverence, from the poetry of imagination, as tables, become old sugar boxes on close inspection and more intimate acquaintance. 'Sic-but I forbear that sickening and hackneyed quotation.

During the period in which I have had control over the Herala I have endeavored, to the best of my ability, to amuse and interest its readers, and I cannot but hope that my good-humored efforts have proved successful. If I have given offense to any by the tone of my remarks, I assure them that it has been quite unintentional, and to prove that I bear no malice, I hereby accept their apologies. Certainly no one can complain of a lack of versatility in the last six numbers. Commencing as an Independent Journal, I have gradually passed through all the stages of incipient Whiggery, decided Conservatism, dignified Recantation, budding Democracy, and rampant Radicalism, and I now close the series with an entirely literary number, in which I have carefully abstained from the mention of Baldo and Wigler—I mean, Wagler and Bildo; no, never mind-as Toodles says, I haven't mentioned any of 'em, but been careful to preserve a perfect armed neutrality.