tricts almost in their primeval condition, opened to him capacious fields of observation and reflection. His journals reflect, during these events, his daily impressions, formed by occurrences as they eventuated. They contain a critical exhibition of the state of the country, the aspect of society, the modes of intercourse, the existing prospects, the population and condition of cities and villages, the industrial pursuits, the commerce and internal communications of the country, recorded at the time, and from personal inspection : and no similar memorial of that period is in existence.

MANUAL OF SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERY: or Year-Book of Facts in Science and Art for 1856. In one volume: pp. 388. Boston: GOULD AND LINCOLN, Washington-street.

THIS closely-printed and compendious volume exhibits the most important discoveries and improvements in Mechanics, Useful Arts, Natural Philosophy, Chemistry, Astronomy, Meteorology, Zoology, Botany, Mineralogy, Geology, Geography, Antiquities, etc.: together with a list of recent scientific publications; a classified list of patents; obituaries of eminent scientific men; notes on the progress of science during the year 1855, etc. The editor is DAVID A. WELLS, 'A. M.,' author of 'The Year-Book of Agriculture,' and other works of a kindred character, which have met with general acceptance. It will be seen that this is a very ample store-house of various and important information; no small proportion of which was elicited at the seventh annual and ninth regular 'Association for the Promotion of Science,' held at Providence, Rhode-Island, in August last. Among the thousandand-one discoveries and inventions mentioned and described, we remark one entitled 'Steam Applied to Music,' the 'handy' work of Mr. Joshua C. STODDARD, of Worcester, (Mass.) But, as in the case of the attempts which have been made to steal from us the profit and fame of our 'Self-Regulating Back-Action Hen-Persuader,' this invention is an infringement of another and similar one, which was taken out, by 'specification,' a good while ago (and for a long time to come!) by 'OLLAPOD,' in the last number of the Ollapodiana Papers, printed in this Magazine sixteen years ago the present month. Mr. STODDARD affirms that the instrument is now complete. The locomotive can 'play upon its pipes,' as also the ocean-steamer's engine; and upon the water, 'it can be heard from ten to twenty-five miles, and every note will be perfect and full.' With a key-board, the slightest touch can operate it, so that a child may play slow or quick tunes upon it with Now for the first hint of this wonderful invention, read the extract quoted in the last sub-section of Ollapodiana from the New-Babylon Observer and Register of the World' for May the seventeenth, nineteen hundred and forty. There was a terrible accident happened from the different tunes played by two locomotives, one of which departed from the directions given in the Tune-Table by the superintendent. The passage is too long to quote in this place, but as a specimen of the progress of steam, and of future scientific 'improvements,' of various wonderful kinds, it is well worthy of being looked up, and 'when found, made a note of.'

ease.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

A REMONSTRANCE AGAINST 'BABY-CARS.'. -Our bachelor correspondent, who proposed a 'Baby-car' for all rail-road trains, has raised a hurricane of hornets about his ears! We would n't stand in his shoes for a 'large sum of gold.' Communications, some in manuscript, othersome clipped from newspapers, pour in upon us. 'I wonder,' says a lady-writer in an Illinois newspaper, the 'La Salle County Journal,' 'if the EDITOR has not made a mistake about the writer's being a Western correspondent;' claiming that there are no such curmudgeons in that love-making and marrying region. She scouts the idea of 'cooping up babies like little animals,' and wonders our correspondent 'did n't suggest the idea of having little cages to put them in!' She goes on to add: 'He says, ' a prettily-dressed child, with a clean face, is decidedly pleasant: he'rather likes such an one.' 'Prettily dressed!'-how prosy ! Now every body knows the little cherubs are prettier without any dressing at all: and you and I know, Mr. Editor, and so does 'Old KNICK,' that a child never looks half so 'cunning' as when his face is just a little smutty. This nervous old bachelor,' she continues, 'complains that travelling babies are restless, and want to go here, there and everywhere, except just where they are or where they ought to be, and then cry because they can't. Why, don't he know that it is to this same wanting-to-get-everywhere-ative temperament of our people, both little and big, that we owe the prosperity of our country? Had n't it been for this very thing, COLUMBUS would never have discovered America.' The following point is, we think, well taken: although a friend says a car known to be a 'Bachelor's Car,' would be so run down by old maids and young maidens trying to get in, or 'get a look,' that the occupants would be harried to death, and finally be obliged to quit travelling by rail: 'Now, if you please, I want to make a suggestion: and it is this: that upon all the railways in this land or any other, east or west, north or south, there be a 'Bachelor-car provided, into which all crusty bachelors shall be thrust; and never let them dare to show their faces inside of any other: and the worst wish I have to bestow upon this bachelor-car is, that no sunny-haired, rosy-cheeked little innocent may ever lighten its interior that no tiny footstep may ever patter through its aisle; that no musical little voice may ever echo therein.' A hard punishment, that would be! Our correspondent had better 'give in,' or 'give out.'

Gossip WITH READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS. — Right glad were we to find the other day, in the 'Express' daily journal a remonstrance against a recent proposition to change the time-honored name of 'Spuyten-Duyvil' to soft and silly 'Linwood.' The writer, a Baltimore correspondent, says: 'Please do n't let your people change Spuyten-Duyvil into Linwood. It will grieve us here: 'Spuyten-Duyvil! '—it does me good to write it.' He goes on to say: 'The name is historic: the American blood of Marylanders and NewYorkers, and of many a good fellow beside, has flowed about it. The quaint, the genial spirit of your own IRVING hovers over it. The old Dutch spirit breathes around it: it is spicy too. We are getting too polished on the surface, by far: all broad-cloth and satin. If you want to make a change, knock into the surging tide that miserable name, New York, and take your proper name, MANHATTAN! Don't mind the one hundred and ninety years you have borne it: they are nothing to the long future which lies before you. You think yourself very big now: you 're nothing yet: you creep along now, like FULTON's boat, when it first crept, and stopped, and crept again up the Hudson. By-and-by you will begin to fly: dashing the billows of old ocean round you: leaving all the cities of the world behind you, and speeding to the uttermost bounds of the habitable globe. Now get a name before you start.' The very idea started, if we remember rightly by Mr. IRVING, in an article in these pages, entitled 'American Nomenclature,' and we hope one day to see it carried out. If, as has been said by an eminent writer, 'repeated parodies of a poem afford the strongest evidence of its popularity,' what shall be thought of LONGFELLOW's 'Hiawatha?' Our own opinion of that poem, since widely confirmed, was early expressed in these pages: it has been warmly commended by the best English and American critics, quoted by members of parliament, etc.: but the parodies upon it! Was there ever any thing like it? Some score or more have been sent to us; while in newspapers all over the Union, not only have they appeared as extended poetical performances, but imitations have been forced, in 'bits,' into a thousand-and-one advertising columns. If it were a musical effort, and could be performed or whistled, every street-organ and city urchin would doubtless be 'executing' it in every thoroughfare of the metropolis. That rare wag, JOHN PHOENIX, of California, has tried his hand at a parody of it in ensuing pages. In his note to the EDITOR, he says: ‘I transmit to you a heroic poem, the production of the author, Mr. H. Wadding TALLBOY, which it strikes me any one might have waited to read, six months at least, and probably longer, with satisfaction and advantage. Several friends of mine, who have had a sly peep at the manuscript, declare that this quaint legend is told with exquisite grace, sweetness, and power!' and I trust you will be of their opinion. You will perceive the moral is excellent, and the general tone unexceptionable: nothing in fact being introduced which could bring a blush upon the cheek of the most fastidious. The main incidents are facts: and thus woven together form a pretty little

romance, sweet indeed to dwell upon.' Our readers will not fail to dwell upon' this sweetness: nor will they omit a perusal elsewhere of the fine lines of Mrs. SIGOURNEY in the now world-famous measure:

The Song of Nothin' Shorter.'

BY H. W. TALLBOY.

Till the sun, which kept retreating,
Got alarmed at his persistence,
And behind the western mountains
Hid his recreant head in terror.
But the last rock 'NOTHIN' SHORTER'
Threw, fell back on his 'cabeza,'
And produced a comminuted
Fracture of the cerebellum.

'Twang a diddle, twang a diddle,
Twang, Twang, tum.'

For some time poor 'NOTHIN' SHORTER'
Lay upon the earth quite senseless,
Till a small exploring party
Under Colonel JOHN C. FREMONT,
Picked him up and fixed his bruises,
Put on 'DALLEY's pain-extractor,'
And some liquid opodeldoc.
When relieved, though sorely shattered,
He sat up, upon his haunches,
And to FREMONT told his story.
Gravely listened that young savan,
Wrote it down upon his note-book,
Had old PREUSS to make a drawing
Representing 'NOTHIN' SHORTER'
Throwing boulders; then he gave him
An old blanket and a beef-bone,
And when he asked him for a quarter,
Told him to go unto the DEVIL.
But far away in Eastern cities
FREMONT told that tale of wonder:
And a certain famous poet
Heard it all and saw the picture,

Wrote it out and had it printed
In one volume post octavo.
And I wish I had the money
For this song of 'NOTHIN' SHORTER.'
Twang a diddle, twang a diddle,
Twang, twang, twang.

At this juncture, AMOS JOHNSON
Rushed tumultuously from his grocery,
Crying, 'Dern your Indian uproar;
Stop that noise and dry up' quickly,
Or, by the Eternal Jingo!

I'll 'here he saw Miss TIPSYDOOSEN,
And the heart of Amos caved in,
As afterward he told Miss STEBBINS
That she 'just completely knocked him.'
Why should I continue longer?
'Gentles,' well ye know the sequel,
How the bright-eyed TIPSYDOOSEN
Now is Mrs. AMOS JOHNSON;
Wears gipure, and old point laces,
And wont visit Mrs. HODGKINS,
'Cause her husband once made harness.
Yes, a leader of the fashion

Now is 'YOUNG GRASSHOPPER-EATER,'
And the ancient 'STEP-AND-FETCH-IT
Has a residence at 'JOHNSON'S;
In the back-yard an umbrella
Stuck for his accommodation,

Where he sleeps and dreams fair visions
Of the days of NOTHIN' SHORTER :'
And the moral of my tale is,

To be virtuous and be happy.'

We call that very SQUIBOBISH !' We propose to initiate the reader into the mystery of a 'Silent Josh.' It is a terrible ceremony, and calculated to 'unman the stoutest heart.' We had heard of it, through a pleasant correspondent of the Spirit of the Times,' as a Boston sentiment, on convivial occasions, but wist not what it was. One lovely summer day, however, many months ago, at a little gathering of choice spirits, in one of EDWARD WINDUST'S (long life and prosperity to him!) best and most private rooms, the handsome Tall Son of York' proposed the execution of that 'Literary Emporium' toast. The glasses were filled with a delicate wine, and each guest, looking the host in his face, followed directions. Now so it was, that 'Old KNICK' was the only person at table who was not aware of the nature of the ceremony. The glasses were raised: in utter silence, three times each guest and host made the motions of 'Silent Josh' with their lips and circling glasses: the fourth motion was to close the sentiment. It did! At the very top-most bent of every man's lungs present, except ours, came forth the pseudonymical syllable,

"JOSH!!'

It is the harshest single word in the English language, and was chosen probably, on that account, for its capability of expression, in a burst of 'silence' through the medium of voices like the tearing of a strong rag. It 'took us out of our boots!' The very house seemed to be coming down over our heads. Consternation seized upon us, and caused all our bones