Here you may daily fill your bread-basket with
bivalves, and then observe the mysteries of that mystic game, now you
see it, now you don't.
Of course I don't propose to state which of these places is the Earthly
Paradise. You pays your money and you takes your choice. What hurts my
feelings is, that any one should have supposed that I intended to write
a criticism of Mr. MORRIS'S poem. Do people imagine that my time is
entirely valueless, and that I can afford to waste it in criticising
poetry?
LOT.
* * * * *
PLUCKILY PATRIOTIC, STILL.
A few years since the City of Portland, upon a certain Fourth of July,
was nearly consumed by fire, the origin of which was the well-known
Cracker. But Portland is undaunted, and proposes this year to have a
finer Independence Day than ever. If Mr. PUNCHINELLO might advise, he
would recommend to the Portlanders, festivities of a decidedly aquatic
character--swimming-matches, going down in diving bells, the playing of
fountains, battles between little boys with squirt-guns, regattas, and
floating batteries. Mr. P. himself intends to celebrate the coming
Fourth upon water--with something in it, of course, to kill the insects.
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