waterworks.

Yours, comparingly,

ORPHEUS C. KERR.

LETTER LXXXIV.

PROVING THAT RUSSIA IS INDEED OUR FRIEND; INSTANCING THE TERRIFIC
BOMBARDMENT OF PARIS; AND TELLING HOW THE NEW GENERAL OF THE
MACKEREL BRIGADE DELIGHTED ALL WITH HIS SURPRISING "SHAPE."

WASHINGTON, D.C., February 2d, 1863.

The sagacious Russian bear, my boy, is found to regard the Eagle of our
distracted country with more than his ordinary liking for fancy
poultry, and our shattered bird may feel proud of a friendship
proffered by such an excellent beast. Truth to tell, the present aspect
of our national chicken is not calculated to inspire an idolatrous
passion in the breast of European zoology. All his tail-feathers have
seceded, and are in rebellion against him; and he has got a black eye,
my boy, from strategic gambols with the playful Southern Confederacy.
Hence, we should accept the bear's affection as a marvel of
disinterested emotion; for I am almost sure, my boy, I am almost sure
that nothing handsomer than a bear could have much real love for such a
fractured fowl.

A relative of mine, named A. Merry Kerr,[2] went to Russia some time
ago, being secretly deputed by Government to expend the amount of his
passage-money in a judicious manner. He writes to me of his friendly
reception by Gorchakoff, and says he:

[2] Excepting Mr. Bayard Taylor, no ordinary traveler ever
excited so much wild affection in the breasts of foreign kings
and noblemen as this gentleman.

"Mr. Gorchakoff ordered my trunks to be put away under the throne for
the time being, and then hastened me to his own private bedroom, whose
windows command a full view of all you can see through them. Having
brushed me off and kissed me, he ordered some fried candles for two,
and then says he:

"How comes on the Union cause, whose pregnant misery on Potomac's shore
has caused the heart of the Czar untold anguish? How often has his
majesty said to me: 'The North _must_ triumph, Prince; and mark me when
I say, that two more centuries will not roll by without witnessing the
fall of Richmond.'"

"Sir," says I,--

"'The lightning-motion of the fish,
Beneath the sea, will just compare
With victory's impulse to our flag,--
That striped bass of upper air.'

"The North must conquer, you see, Mr. G."

Upon hearing me speak thus, Mr. Gorchakoff laid my head upon his bosom
and smoothed my hair, and says he: "Oh, how I