' up there enjoyin' the fun, I let fly the bute
at him.

Smash! went the lookin-glass.

The venerable commanding Muskeeter had dodged, and was settin' on the
burow, with his thumb on his nose, wrigglin' his fingers at me in a very
ongentlemanly manner.

There I was again unarmed, dancin' about, swelled up like a base ball
player on match day.

"Blood IARGO!" was the cry.

I tride to make a masked battery with a piller. It was no protection
again Jarsey Muskeeters.

As RACHEL mourned for her step-mother, I sighed for me home.

"Why, oh why," I cride, "did I leave old Skeensboro?"

A widder wearin' a borrowed suit of mornin'--eleven children cryin'
because the governor had been chawed up by Muskeeters crowded into my
thoughts.

The army was gettin' reddy to charge onto me agin, and avenge their
fallen comrags.

Suddenly a brite thought struck me.

I ceased a sheet and waved it for a flag of truce.

The order wasen't given.

"Kernal," said I, "before we continue this fite, let's take a drink all
around, and I'll stand treat."

"Done," said he, "trot out your benzine."

I opened the burow drawer, and took out a black bottle.

I pulled the cork and filled all the glasses, then poured a lot into the
wash-bowl, when I handed the bottle to the Kernal.

"Make ready! Take aim! Drink!" Down went the licker.

I laffed a revengeful laff, as every condemned Muskeeter turned up their
heels and cride:

"Water--send my bones back to Chiny--mother dear, I'm comein', 300,000
strong--we die--by the hand--of Jarsey--lite--"

And Jarsey litenin', more powerful than the chassepo gun of France or
the needle-gun of Prushy, had done its work, and the old man was saved
to the world!

It was 3 days before any close would again fit me.

I looked more like a big balloon than a human bein', I was swelled up so
with the pizen.

My blessin's on the head of the individual who invented Jarsey litenin'.
Nothin else would have saved the Lait Gustise's valuable life.

Ever of thow,

HIRAM GREEN, Esq.,

_Lait Gustise of the Peece._

* * * * *

From our own Correspondent.

Rumors of war from Europe must always be expected, for how can we get
Pacific news by Atlantic Telegraph?

* * * * *

[Illustration: "WHERE IGNORANCE IS BLISS," ETC,

_First Small Bather_. "WOULDN'T OUR MAMS GIVE US FITS IF THEY CAUGHT US
SWIMMIN'?"

_Second Ditto_. "I'LL BET YER!"