in forty-eight hours? Rail-roads are now completed to Montgomery, Alabama. We put our question to the bland and gentlemanly Mr. POLLARD of Montgomery, to SIDNEY SMITH, Esq., of Mobile, and to the successful banker, JAMES ROBB, Esq., of New-Orleans. All these gentlemen are deeply interested in rail-roads in the South, and they could do much to facilitate the travelling in that direction. Why should not New-Orleans be as near New-York as St. Louis? The distance is no greater; and again we would ask, in conclusion, How soon shall we go to New-Orleans in two days?'

OUR little four-year old boy is a prac

'Not knowing, could n't say.' tical amalgamationist. Going out the other morning for our daily tramp over the hills, we found him playing with a little colored boy, of his own age, by the road-side, as happy as a lark. We gave him a kiss, and were passing on, when he said, pointing to the little black boy, with a sorrowful expression, as if he had been neglected or overlooked, 'Fader, kiss ABEY!' His colored friend was 'purging thick amber' at the time, and the request struck us forcibly as one not to be complied with. No: though he had 'washed him in snow-water, and made his face never so clean,' we don't think we could have done the deed!' So we passed on, musingly, thinking alone of the frank and ingenuous sympathies of little children. WELL, now come, 'Little People,' sit up at the Table,' and let us hear from you. 'Hold up your heads-speak loud and plain.' If there be any sour old bachelor, or any body else, who don't love you, ask them to read this: 'A plain and unschooled man, who had received his education principally beneath the open sky, in the field and the forest, and who had wielded the axe more than the pen, while speaking of children, remarked, The little chips are nearest the heart." We don't tell where our little guests come from: save that they represent very different and widelyseparated sections of our beloved country :

'LYMAN, my little nephew, two-and-a-half years old, climbed upon the table one day, calling himself' Elder PARKER,' and pretending to preach. In the midst of his discourse he turned to his mother and said: 'Mother, Elder PARKER wants a cake;' which was procured for him. Pretty soon he said: 'Mother, Elder PARKER wants another cake:' but the reply was: 'No! one at a time is enough.' 'Why, Mother,' said he, in a tone of rebuke; 'you should let Elder PARKER have all he wants.''

'OUR little boy, a bright, observing child of five summers, says so many funny things, that I cannot resist the desire to tell you some of them. Yesterday, for example, being a bright Sunday morning, he went with his nurse to a distant church. As you well know, in the Episcopal Church the collection for the day is generally taken up before the sermon. This was the case here. When he left the church, he remarked to his father, that Mr. H- preached a good sermon, but took his money first. In the afternoon he went with his mother to the service. After the sermon was concluded, and the blessing pronounced, he looked up into her face with the inquiry: 'Don't we have to pay?''

Here is another, but not a 'child-story: '

'I HEARD, when I was in Michigan, last summer, a good story. An old darkey, very pious, went out a-fishing with one of the citizens of He was expatiating largely

on religious subjects, when he remarked that he had 'been up to Heaven to see the LORD;' and he was giving forth in glowing characters the beauties of that place, and of its glorious inhabitants, when Mr. D asked him: 'Well, JOHN, did you see any colored folks there?' 'No, massa: I don't know, for I did n't go into de kitchen!''

'I was traversing the southern tier of our counties a short time since; when, overtaken by a storm which had suddenly arisen, I sought shelter in a very comfortable

looking domicil, possessing much of the 'Old Homestead appearance' we sometimes read of. The family was quite large; and at evening prayers I saw assembled the gray and the flaxen-haired. The eldest of the company, I should judge, had seen at least the third generation of his name; a worthy sire, and one who demanded reverence at first sight. I felt peculiarly awe-stricken when this old man, after reading a chapter in the BIBLE, knelt to offer thanks for the manifold blessings of our common CREATOR. The room would have resounded to the least noise: and all were silent until the final 'Amen!' which was uttered with peculiar emphasis. Hardly had the 'Amen' been uttered, when a bright-eyed urchin suddenly projected his tow-head above the table on the other side of the room, and inquired: 'Grandpa, why don't you say, 'A-women!' sometimes, when you done praying?' The effect was irresistible.'

'A GENTLEMAN from the South has a bright little colored servant of about ten or twelve years of age, who has a decided fancy for running with the 'PHENIX' fireengine, and which, in spite of all efforts to the contrary, he persists in calling the 'FoNICKS.' In endeavoring, one day, to impress upon him the proper pronunciation of the word, the following conversation was held:

'LADY: 'ANDREW why do you keep calling the engine, 'Fonicks?' It's not a 'Fonicks'—it's a Phoenix.

'Boy: 'Miss MA'Y, (for MARY,) it's a 'Fonicks,' the boys a' sa' so.'

'LADY: 'No, ANDREW, it's a Phoenix. Now see if you can't say so.'

'Boy, (still unconvinced :) But the boys all call it the Fonicks, and it is a Fonicks.'

LADY NOW, ANDREW, you're a gentleman's servant, and you want to talk as gentlemen talk, don't you?'

'Boy: 'Yes, Miss MA'Y.'

'LADY: 'Well, if you will listen to me, I'll tell you why they call it a Phoenix, and you must always call it so. The PHENIX was a bird that arose out of the ashes of the great.'"

'BOY, (with a face expressive of great astonishment :) 'O Miss Ma’Y!'

'LADY: Yes: will you remember?'

'Boy, (with great force and indignation :) Miss MA'Y, I don't-a-believe that story at all, for here I'se been a-cleanin' the ashes out ob de grate these fo' years, an' I neber see no bird rise out ob it.''

'WE are living on the old homestead, and of course have plenty of fruit. We have also two little boys, one in his twelfth and the other in his sixth year; and it is a matter of great strife between them which shall be up soonest in the morning, to gather the finest of the fruit that falls during the night. Their father encourages this in them, as inculcating a habit of early rising, telling them that 'It is the early bird that gathers the worms.'

'A few nights since, after hearing my youngest one say his prayers, and putting him nicely to bed, with his good-night kiss, as I was about leaving the room, he called me back, and said: 'Mamma, I told dear Heavenly FATHER last night, that if he would make the peaches fall on the ground, I would try and please HIм ever so much; and this morning when I got up, the ground was covered.' And I then remembered that he did come in that morning with his little cap filled. And he was serious in his conviction that it was in answer to his prayer. A beautiful instance of childish faith, was it not?'

"MODER, my little DICKY bird is dead, and I have buried him under the white rosebush. I cried a little, too, but I could 'nt help it,' said my little curly-headed 'VEltie,' while, with arms about my neck, he kissed me a 'welcome home,' after an absence of four weeks in the country. I condoled with him in all sincerity for the loss of his little favorite; it was a pet with us all; and assured him as soon as I was rested, he should go with me and point out the spot where he had laid the little warbler. 'Mamma,' he says, 'I guess we could n't find it, for I did n't put any brimstone to his grave!' - meaning tomb-stone.'

'ONE of my own, (a girl of three summers,) making the inquiry relative to what became of a play-mate of hers after death, was replied to by the mother, 'that the body returned to dust, and the soul to God who gave it.' Immediately after, as if a few moments' pondering had originated an unsatisfied idea, she asked: 'Mother, if the bodies of white children return to dust, do niggers' bodies return to mud?' The maternal side of the house was mum!'

'I HAVE two little girls — JENNIE, Seven; and ANNIE, five. The former was singing a stanza, the other day, running somehow thus:

"THE sun went down
Behind the mountain grey,
And not a single star appeared
To shoot a silver ray:

when ANNIE remarked: 'Why, JENNIE, may-be the little silver ray did n't want to be shooted!'

'JENNIE inherits from me an unmixed horror of cradle-rocking: and during nurse's absence, she performs that ceremony with a very bad grace. Last night she was 'saying her prayers' audibly, and concluded thus: 'Heavenly FATHER, please to make me love to rock the cradle, and let every body go to you, if you please: Amen!"

'THE other day our little boy saw a 'colored lady' in the house for the first time: after contemplating the strange phenomenon a moment, with his little hands behind him, he went up to her, and looking into her face exclaimed, with a countenance indescribable: Why! how dirty you are!''

'MAMIE was at the dinner-table one day, when her brother came in, after having made a visit to the barber. She laughed, and being asked why, said: 'Budder looks so new!' At another time, she showed him her little dress, and said: 'Budder, I wipped my d'ess.' 'You must not say 'wip' but 'rip,' said her mother; I don't say wip.' 'Mamma, did n't you say wip when you was a little girl?''

'No more at present,' little folk. CAPTAIN FOLGER, the present lessee of The Seventy-Six,' or 'Major Andre House' at Old Tappuan, has used his pencils to good advantage in literally revolution'-izing the memorable edifice. As you enter the west room on the right, facing' Major Andre's Room,' on the walls, on each side of the doors, hang the first American flags, used at the outbreak of the Revolution, in festoons, consisting of the 'Pine Tree,' 'PAUL JONES'S 'Rattle-Snake,' the New-England 'Dissected Snake,' and PUTNAM'S 'Flag of Defiance,' raised on Dorchester Heights, while the British were occupying Boston. On the opposite side of the room are the American flags. Surrounding each window, tied together in knots against the ceiling, completely surrounding the room, are festoons of flowers, connected by shields, on each of which is emblazoned the name of some one of our revolutionary worthies. At the end of the room where ANDRE's room was formerly situated, is now painted a fac-simile of his prison, with its scanty furniture. Directly over the room, festoons of evergreens are hung, joined by knots of crape, making, altogether, a very interesting medley of patriotic scenes and emblems. This is the ball (and sometimes supper) room, where several assemblies have already been held. The bar-room has been similarly cared for: beside which it contains a great variety of revolutionary and other curiosities, which are well worthy inspection. We trust the CAPTAIN may be well supported, in the festive season which is now upon us. He certainly has striven hard to deserve success, and we doubt not he will achieve it. - A DUNCAN'S Falls' correspondent, who writes us from Mansfield, Ohio, sends us the following' Colored Discourse, for 'the entire authenticity of which he vouches without reserve,' having taken it down from the thick lips of the reverend orator himself: '

'My tex', bruderen and sisteren, will be foun' in de fus' chapter ob Ginesis, and de twenty-seben verse:

'So de LOR make man just like Hese'f.

'Now my bruderen, you see dat in de beginnin' ob de world de LOR' make ADAM. I tole you how he make him: He make 'im out ob clay, an' he sot 'im on a board, an' he look at him, an' he say 'Furs-rate;' an' when he get dry, he brethe in 'im de breff of life. He put him in de garden of Eden, and he sot 'im in one corner ob de lot, an' he tole him to eat all de apples, 'ceptin' dem in de middle ob de orchard: dem he wanted for he winter-apples. Byme-bye ADAM he get lonesome. So de Lor' make EBE. I tole you how he make her. He gib ADAM lodlom, till he git sound 'sleep: den he gouge a rib out he side, and make EBE: an' he set EBE in de corner ob de garden; an' he tole her to eat all de apples, 'ceptin' dem in de middle ob de orchard: dem he want for winter-apples. Wun day de LOR' go out a bisitin': de debbil come along: he dress hisself in de skin ob de snake, and he find EBE; an' he tole her: 'EBE! why for you no eat de apple in de middle ob de orchard?' EBE say: 'Dem de LoR's winterapples.' But de debbil say: 'I tole you for to eat dem, case deys de best apples in de orchard.' So EBE eat de apple an' gib ADAM a bite; an' de debbil go away. Byme-by de LoR' come home, an' he miss de winter-apples; an' he call: ADAM! you ADAM!' ADAM he lay low: So de Lor' call again: 'YOU ADAM!' ADAM say: 'Hea! LOR', and de LoR say: 'Who stole de winter-apples?' ADAM tole him he don't know-EBE, he expec'! So de LOR' call: 'EBE!' EBE she lay low: de LoR' call again: 'You EBE!' EBE say: 'Hea! LOR'. De LOR' say: 'Who stole de winter-apples? 'EBE tole him she don't know - ADAM she expec'! So de LOR' cotch 'em boff, and he trow dem ober de fence, an' he told 'em, 'Go work for your libin'!'

Is 'nt that negro, 'all over?' ORIGINAL to the last, a favorite and unique correspondent-whose peculiar poetry' has found circulation and imitators in almost every quarter of the country-sends us the following *Stanzas to Angelina.' We insert a few verses, to show how little mere beauty has to do with true affection :

'How oft to thee, sweet one-eyed friend,

Must I confess my errors!

Here at thy feet again I bend,
In your prim, tidy little room;
And own I envy one, for whom
Strabismus has no terrors.

'The line of beauty in your nose

Beats HOGARTH's grandest notion;
For his, I think, had but two bows,
But yours has half-a-dozen crooks
To heighten your angelic looks,
And seal my rapt devotion!

And need I praise thy skinny lips,
Thou well-preserved old angel!
Thou seest my muse but lightly skips
Those wrinkles which, I doubt me not,
Are 'lines of beauty' too, and ought
Not to be deemed a strange ill.

"That sword-like chin I often dream
Is very near another

Owned by myself, and then I seem

To smack by instinct while the paint
Which I rub off seems like a faint
Impression of 'My MOTHER!'

'Then take, thou free-gift of the skies,-
With bulbous feet so tiny,

Oh! take, before thy lover dies,

His wretched heart, and make it beat
Like your prepost'rous Dutch repeat-
Er, dearest ANGELINA

JAQUES MAURICE'

Nor a few of our readers, certainly

What a flattering tribute!' not a few of our friends and contemporaries in the country, but will have seen the counterpart of the amusing incident recorded below, by a new correspondent,' H. A.,' Jr. One kindred occurrence we mean to relate,' when time and space shall serve :'

"TWENTY-FIVE years since, when the rail-road and the telegraph, the two mightiest engines of modern civilization, did not as yet exist even in the imagination, the transmission of the President's message, so eagerly looked for by men of all parties, was a work requiring a far greater expenditure both of time and trouble than at present. Weeks even elapsed before it could be said to have made the circuit of the country. Nevertheless the same spirit of emulation as to which should be the first to spread its contents before their readers, existed among the newspapers of that day as at present.

'The little town of Wimbleton boasted two newspapers, the Wimbleton Patriot and the Wimbleton Banner. Circumscribed as was the field of their operations, the rivalry between CESAR and POMPEY was not carried to a greater pitch than that between Mr. HUGGINS, of the Patriot, and Mr. MUGGINS, of the Banner. Each exhibited a commendable spirit of enterprise, in being the first to chronicle any important or unimportant item of news, relative to the general or personal interests of Wimbleton and its inhabitants, and the forestalling party was sure to remind its less fortunate competitor of its superiority in such cases.

For example, the Patriot one week devoted half-a-column to a thrilling account of the burning of a window-curtain in the house of the widow STUKELY, and commented at length upon the admirable presence of mind with which the widow succeeded in staying the conflagration. The editorial closed with the remark: 'We presume that our brother of the Banner, such is his want of enterprise, is quite unaware that such an important incident has transpired in our midst, and will gain his first knowledge of it from our columns.'

'The next week, however, the Banner had its revenge, containing, as it did, the exclusive intelligence of the untimely death of Dr. PATTERSON'S cat; that unhappy feline having been (to use the language of the Banner) 'accidentally precipitated down the Doctor's well, and thus cut down in the flower of its existence, leaving a family of seven kittens to mourn its unhappy fate.' The Banner concluded: 'We have, at great personal trouble, succeeded in gathering all the details of this melancholy disaster, determined to keep far in advance, as we always have done hitherto, of our slow neighbor, the Patriot."'

'But a more important matter was soon to form a bone of contention between the two rival newspapers.

The session of Congress had commenced, and the President's message was daily expected. The Patriot and the Banner were on the qui vive, each determined to forestall its opponent.

'At length the Banner received information that the message had been received in a city some fifteen miles distant; and the editor, determined on a bold stroke, secured a horse and wagon and posted off, intending to have some five hundred copies struck off at the office of one of the city dailies, headed, 'Wimbleton Banner, Extra,' and distributed through the town before the Patriot could open its eyes to see what was going

on.

'An hour after Mr. MUGGINS' departure, Mr. HUGGINS learned the nature of the coup d'etat by which his rival intended to distance him. And was he to sit patiently under it? Not HUGGINS.

"SAM,' said he, calling from his office-door to a boy who was playing marbles across the way, 'come here, I want to speak to you.'

'SAM hitched up his trowsers and went.

"How would you like a ride this morning?' inquired the editor, urbanely.

"Fust rate,' was the reply.

Then go and harness up the black pony. I want you to go to the city. I will get