re now served all around. Breakfast went on, and
Zounds and Sounds went down, and every body appeared to be perfectly
charmed with the dish. One might say, to be sure, that they were a little
saltish, and then again, with that exception, there was no remarkable
flavor; but that might be the rarity, _not to have any flavor_. No one,
however, thought _aloud_ in this manner. On the contrary, there was a
manifest inclination to detect resemblances of taste and flavor to those
of very many rare and delicate cookeries; but after awhile _there came a
pause_. It was during this pause, that my friend turned to his wife and
inquired if she was quite sure they were seasoned properly. 'I think they
are a little salt,' said Mrs. H----; but, my dear, you know you prepared
them yourself.' HARRY looked thunder-clouds, and called one of the
servants. 'Mary,' said he, 'take the key and bring me a _raw Zound_. You
will find two buckets-full in the wine-cellar.' Wondering at this, we
wondered still more at finding our coffee-cups all empty at the same time.
Each one was waiting for _drink_. The raw Zound was now brought, and
HARRY, plunging his fork into it, while all eyes were fixed upon him,
turned it over and over, examining it on all sides, and then, with his arm
at a right angle, raised it deliberately to his nose. Almost
instantaneously, and while still some distance off, there came a very wise
expression about his nostrils, which, as the Zound came nearer, dilated
still more and more, deepening the expression to a frightful extent, till,
all doubts removed, he shouted out: '_Codfish! by thunder!_'

We had actually taken within us, and bepraised, the unfreshened _tongues
and bladders_ of codfish!

It is now more than a week, O EDITOR! since this breakfast came off, or
rather since it went down, for it isn't _off_ yet; even now, that
taste----Do you know what it is, Sir, to have your jaws hang?--to be
always on the eve of a gape?--to be afraid of the tongs or the snuffers,
or a tall man, especially in tights, lest the next yawn may wholly tear up
your spinous process, your spheroid cartilage?--hang the doctors!--do you
understand? Well; _I am in that way_; and it's all from those confounded
Zounds and Sounds!

GOSSIP WITH READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS.--Coming home lateish to-night from
the opera, we found the following, written in what Mrs. MALAPROP would
term 'rather ineligible characters,' as if hastily reduced to paper.
Howbeit,