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Diurnally, after imbibing my morning glass of bimbo (a temperance drink, composed of "three parts of root beer and two of water-gruel, thickened with a little soft squash, and strained through a cane

bottomed chair "), have I gazed mournfully into that aching void, and have turned away to meet the sympathetic glance of Batten, who, being a literary man himself, feels for my disappointment, and shakes his head sadly as in reply to my mute inquiry he utters the significant monosyllable "Nix." But this morning my exertions were rewarded: "I had a bite." In my box I found the following contribution, and, feeling delighted at my success, and to encourage others who may dread criticism, I shall publish it without remark or annotation, merely premising that I know nothing whatever of M. W. but that he

appears to be a worthy and impulsive young fellow, who, having become possessed of five dollars, invested it very properly in the purchase of a ticket at the American Theater, where he incontinently fell in love with Mrs. Heald (as possibly others may have done before him), and where he hastily "threw off" the following lines, written doubtless on the back of a playbill, immediately after the conclusion of the Spider Dance, where he probably found himself in a sweet state compounded of love, excitement, and perspiration, caused by a great physical exertion in producing the encore. Here it is:

"TO LOLA MONTES

"FAIR LOLA !

"I cannot believe, as I gaze on thy face,
And into thy soul-speaking eye,
There rests in thy bosom one lingering trace
Of a spirit the world should decry.
No, Lola, no!

"I read in those eyes, and on that clear brow,
A Spirit-a Will-it is true;

I trace there a Soul-kind, loving, e'en now;
But it is not a wanton I view ;

No, Lola, no!

"I will not believe thee cold, heartless and vain!
Man's victim thou ever hast been !

With thee rests the sorrow, on thee hangs the chain.
Then on thee should the world cast the sin?

No, Lola, no.

"M. W."

Now, isn't this

but I promised not to criticize. Try it again, M. W.-you'll do! Winn, who is looking over my shoulder, and is a connoisseur in this description of poetry, says it is very fair-but he will persist in inquiring "what chain is alluded to in the last line but one?" He thinks "there is a link wanting there to complete the connection." But never mind this, M. W.; he would be glad enough to reward you liberally for a similar article laudatory of buckwheat cakes and golden syrup. Don't be disheartened! Just you go on and fill the cigar-box, confident of deserving the "smiles" of Parry, the "cheer" of Batten, and the appreciation, with a "first-rate notice," of your admiring

SQUIBOB.

RETURN OF THE COLLECTOR

THRILLING AND FRANTIC EXCITEMENT AMONG OFFICE-SEEKERS. PROCESSION AND SPEECH

INTELLIGENCE having reached the city yesterday morning that the new Collector might be expected by the Sophie from Stockton, at an early hour in the afternoon the crowd of office-seekers began to assemble, and by eight o'clock last evening every avenue of approach to Long Wharf was entirely closed and the wharf itself so densely packed with human beings that the merchants and others compelled to resort thither were obliged to step from the corner of Montgomery and Commercial Streets upon the heads of the crowd and proceed to their places of business over a living pavement. Much suffering having been caused by the passage of loaded drays and other carriages over the shoulders of the crowd, and many serious accidents having occurred to individuals among which we can only notice the unfortunate case of a plethoric elderly gentleman, who, slipping on a glazed hat, fell down and broke himself somewhere-our worthy Mayor, ever alive to the calls of humanity, throwing aside all political preju

dice, caused plank to be laid over the heads of the assembly from Sansome Street to the extremity of the wharf, which in a great measure alleviated their suffering.

There was no fighting or disorder among the crowd, for so closely were they packed that no man could move a finger; one unfortunate individual, who, at an early stage of the proceedings, had inadvertently raised his arm above his head, remained with it immutably fixed in that position. Like an East Indian Fakir, who had taken a vow to point for ever toward heaven, that melancholy hand was seen for hours directed toward the nearest bonded warehouse. Some idea of the amiable feeling existing among the multitude may be gathered from the statement of Capt. J B— familiarly

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