Oh is it thy will, On the breezes to toss ; Or capriciously still, Like the lone Albatross, Incumbent on Night, (As she on the air), To keep watch with delight On the harmony there?" Observe that note: "The Albatross is said to sleep on the wing." Who said so? I should like to know. Buffon didn't mention it; neither does Audubon. Coleridge, who made the habits of that rare bird a study, never found it out; and the undersigned, who has gazed on many Albatrosses, and had much discourse with ancient mariners concerning them, never suspected the circumstance, or heard it elsewhere remarked upon. I am inclined to believe that it never occurred to Mr. Poe, until having become embarrassed by that unfortunate word "toss," he was obliged to bring in either a hoss, or an albatross; and preferring the bird as the more poetical, invented the extraordinary fact to explain his appearance. The above lines, I am told, have been much admired; but if they are true poetry, so are the following: Highflier! Highflier! Is to kick up and run: Oh, is it thy will Thy switch-tail to toss ; Or caper viciously still, Like an old sorrel horse, [pron. “hoss,”] Incumbent on thee, As on him, to rear, [pron. "rare,”] And though sprung in the knee, ye? A note for me, and the man waiting for an answer, said Now, by the shade of Shadrach, and the chimney of Nebuchadnezzar's fiery furnace! 'tis the bill for the new chimney! Bills, bills, bills! How can a man name his child William ? The horrid idea of the partner of his joys, and sorrows, presenting him with a Bill!—and to have that Bill continually in the house-constantly running up and down stairs-always unsettled,-Distraction's in the thought! Tell that man, Bridget, I'm sick; and, lucky thought, say it's the smallpox; and ask him to call again when I've got better, and gone to San Diego for my health. I see him from a hole in the window curtain, flying off in a zigzag direction, and looking back timorously, like a jacksnipe, with his long bill. I shall write no more; like that bill, I feel unsettled. Adieu! He's gone. SQUIBOB IN BENICIA. BENICIA, October 1st, 1850. LEAVING the metropolis last evening by the gradually-increasing-in-popularity steamer, "West Point," I 'skeeted' up Pablo Bay with the intention of spending a few days at the world-renowned seaport of Benicia. Our Captain (a very pleasant and gentlemanly little fellow by the way) was named Swift, our passengers were emphatically a fast set, the wind blew like well-watered rose bushes, and the tide was strong in our favor. All these circumstances tended to impress me with the idea, that we were to make a wonderfully quick passage, but alas, "the race is not always to the Swift," the "Senator" passed us ten miles from the wharf, and it was nine o'clock and very dark at that, when we were roped in by the side of the "ancient and fishlike" smelling hulk that forms the broad wharf of Benicia. As I shouldered my carpet bag, and stepped upon the wharf among the dense crowd of four individuals that were there assembled, and gazing upon the mighty city whose glimmering lights, feebly discernible through the Benician darkness, extended over an area of five acres, an overpowering sense of the grandeur and majesty of the great rival of San Francisco, affected me.-I felt my own extreme insignificance, and was fain to lean upon a pile of water melons for support. "Boy!" said I, addressing an intelligent specimen of humanity who formed an integral portion of the above mentioned crowd, "Boy! can you direct me to the best hotel in this city?"—" Aint but one," responded the youth, “Winn keeps it; right up the hill thar." Decidedly, thought I, I will go in to Winn, and reshouldering my carpet bag, I blundered down the ladder, upon a plank foot-path leading over an extensive morass in the direction indicated, not noticing, in my abstraction, that I had inadvertently retained within my grasp the melon upon which my hand had rested "Saw yer!" resounded from the wharf as I retired-" Saw yer!" repeated several individuals upon the foot-path. the foot-path. For an instant my heart beat with violence at the idea of being seen accidentally appropriating so contemptible an affair as a water-melon; but hearing a man with a small white hat, and large white moustache, shout "hello!" and immediately rush with frantic violence up the ladder, I comprehended that Sawyer was his proper name, and by no means alluded to me or my proceedings; so slipping the melon in my carpet bag, I tranquilly resumed my journey. A short walk brought me to the portal of the best and only hotel in the city, a large two-story building dignified by the title of the "Solano Hotel," where I was graciously received by mine host, who welcomed me to Benicia in the most winning manner. After slightly refreshing my innei man with a feeble stimulant, and undergoing an introductior to the oldest inhabitant, I calmly seated myself in the bar-room, and contemplated with intense interest the progress of a game of billiards between two enterprising citizens; but finding after a lapse of two hours, that there was no earthly probability of its ever being concluded, I seized a candlestick and retired to my room. Here I discussed my melon with intense relish, and then seeking my couch, essayed to sleep.-But, oh! the fleas! skipping, hopping, crawling, biting! "Won't some one establish an agency for the sale of D. L. Charles & Co's. Flea bane, in Benicia ?" I agonizingly shouted, and echo answered through the reverberating halls of the "Solano Hotel," "Yes, they won't!" What a night! But every thing must have an end (circles and California gold excepted), and day at last broke over Benicia. Magnificent place! I gazed upon it from the attic window of the "Solano Hotel," with feelings too deep for utterance. The sun was rising in its majesty, gilding the red wood shingles of the U. S. Storehouses in the distance; seven deserted hulks were riding majestically at anchor in the bay; clothes-lines, with their burdens, were flapping in the morning breeze; a man with a wheelbarrow was coming down the street!-Every thing, in short, spoke of the life, activity, business, and bustle of a great city. But in the midst of the excitement of this scene, an odoriferous smell of beef-steak came, like a holy calm, across my olfactories, and hastily drawing in my cabeza, I descended to breakfast. This operation concluded, I took a stroll in company |