"distinguished guests," as JENKINS would say, are very numerous, and
it is truly an edifying sight to see judges, legislators, eminent
politicians, and other "Heads of the People" bobbing about in the water
together.

Some folks don't seem to care what they spend when they come here, and
no sooner arrive at the Branch than they Branch out into all sorts of
extravagance. There is some superb horseflesh here just now, and the
fastest nags may be seen doing their Level best on the Smooth Beach. The
Race Track, Grand Stand, &c., are all that the vivid fancy of a
PUNCHINELLO can paint them. The bathing costumes! who can do justice to
them and their lovely wearers? Some time ago, (as I am informed,) a lady
made her appearance on the beach as a Nereid. Did you Ne'er read of the
Nereids, Mr. PUNCHINELLO? If you have, you are aware that they were the
Sea Nymphs of the Ancients, in other words the Old Maids of the Sea, who
never got married, and frequently played Scaly tricks on Mariners. The
Nereid referred to was arrayed in pea green and spangles, with green
tresses, which is very well known to be the correct costume of a mermaid
of antiquity, copied from the latest Paris fashions. This Spritely lady
was, however, unprovided with a tail, which was Unmermaidenlike in the
Extreme.

You know how brilliant the Hops are, so I will Skip them. One thing,
however, is worth noting. At some of the Hotels they have a Spread on
the carpet before the dancing begins, as well as a supper afterwards.
The excellent music of the Hotel bands is Instrumental in drawing crowds
of listeners to the Ball rooms. Some Chinese Jugglers gave an
entertainment here the other evening, but I didn't go, not being in the
Juggler Vein. Yours Reverentially,

CHINCAPIN.

* * * * *

[Illustration: PRUSSIC ACID.

"FIFTY DOUSAND FENIANS ARMED MID REPEATERS FOR FRANCE! LET 'EM GO!
BEESMARK WILL MAKE DEM NOT COOM PACK TO REPEAT IN DIS GOONDERY NO MORE!"]

* * * * *

THE POEMS OF THE CRADLE.

CANTO IV.

Little JACK HORNER
Sat in a corner.
Eating a Christmas Pie:
He put in his thumb
And pulled out a plum,
And said, "What a brave boy am I."

In Canto I, I have shown the varied emotions which seized the tender
soul of Old Mother HUBBARD'S Dog. Emotions so fierce in their sorrow,
that they left not a single wiggle in his tail: his hopes were crushed,
his expectations