“I ain’t done nothing; and you jest drop me, or I’ll knock spots out of yer!” carols the stony young child.  “I jest come to have my aim at that old Beat there.”

“Attend to his case, then—­his and his friend’s, for he seems to have some one with him—­and never let me see you two boys again.”

Thus Mr. Bumstead, as he releases the excited lad, and turns from the pauper burial-ground for a curious kind of pitching and running walk homeward.  The strange expedition is at an end:-but which end he is unable just then to decide.

(To be Continued.)

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[Illustration:  Clerks all away on A Saturday frolic, which accounts for the unfortunate position of this Stout gentleman, who was left alone to Lock up his store.]

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[Illustration:  Punchinello correspondence.]

Answers to correspondents.

Johnny.—­Yes, you may offer your arm to your pretty cousin in the country whenever you think she would like it, except when Mr. Punchinello is present.  If that gallant gentleman is at hand, escort duty may, with perfect propriety, be left to him.

Charles inquires whether his handwriting is good enough to qualify him for membership in a base ball club.  We think he is all right on that score.

Glaucus.—­We have never heard that Newport is a good place for gathering sea-shells, but we presume you can shell out there if you wish.

Chapeau.—­Hats will be worn on the head this season.  It is not considered stylish to hang them on the ear, eyebrow, or coat collar.

Cit.—­The correct dimensions of a Saratoga pocket-book have not been definitely decided.  As to sending it, it is doubtful whether the rail-road companies would receive it as baggage.  Perhaps you could charter a canal boat.

Aspirant.—­We cannot tell you the price of “bored” in Washington “for a few weeks.”  No doubt you could get liberally bored at a reasonable rate.

Sorosis—­It was very wrong for your husband to mention the muddy coffee.  However, we advise you to attempt a settlement of such troubles without creating a public scandal.

Butcher Boy.—­You cannot succeed as a writer of “lite comidy” if you continue to weave such tragic spells.  “The Lean Larder” would not be an attractive title for your play.

C.  Drincarty submits the following problem:  If one swallow don’t make a summer, how many claret punches can a man take before fall?  Will some of our ingenious readers offer a suitable solution?

Culturist.—­The potato has been grafted with great success on the cucumber tree in some of the Western States.  The stock should be heated by a slow fire until the sap starts.  The grafts should be boiled in a preparation known to science as vanilla cream.