A quiet gentleman who occupies lodgings immediately opposite one of the city armories, writes to us asking whether the drum corps that practice there two or three evenings in the week should not be supplied with noiseless drums, as PUNCHINELLO has suggested regarding the street organs.  PUNCHINELLO thinks the suggestion a good one.  He would like to see the beating of drums after night-fall abolished altogether In fact, it is the only kind of Dead Beat to which he would lend his countenance.

* * * * *

A Clear Case.

Some wiseacre has been trying to demonstrate, through the public press, that POE did not write “The Raven.”

The man must be a Raven lunatic.

* * * * *

THE BALLARD OF THE GOOD LITTLE BOY, AGED TEN, AND HIS BAD BROTHER.

An obituary notice of a boy, 10 years old, in The Wilmington Commercial, contains the following statement:  “In his dying moments he charged his brother WILLIAM not to dance, or sing any more songs.  Funeral services preached by the Rev WM. R. TUBB.”

    This pious Boy lay on his bed,
        A dying very fast;
    ’Most every word this good Boy said,
        They thought ’twould be his last.

    The Reverend Mr. TUBB was there,
        A praying very slow;
    It was a solemn, sad affair;
        Twas plain the Boy must go.

    His brother WILLIAM:, he come o’er,
        To which this good Boy cried,
    “Oh, BILL, don’t sing nor dance no more!”
        And following which he died.

    Now WILLIAM, he had learnt a song
        That pleased him very much: 
    He didn’t know that it was wrong
        To carol any such.

    He said he couldn’t leave it go,
        Not if he was to die;
    And that same song, as all should know,
        Was called by him, “Shoo Fly.”

    He was informed by Mr. TUBBS
        That he would fall down dead,
    Or else get killed by stones or clubs,
        With that thing in his head.

    But, such is life!  Poor WILLIAM went
        And sung his Shoo Fly o’er: 
    Not knowing that he would be sent
        Where Shoo Flies are no more,

    He was a singing, one wet day,
        And likewise dancing too,
    When lightning took his sole away—­
        Let this warn me and you!

* * * * *

HINTS FOR THE CENSUS.

DEAR PUNCHINELLO:  I have always been in favor of the Census, the system is questionable, perhaps, though that depends on how you like it.  I have found that it answers very well where the parties are highly intelligent-like myself, for example.

I drew up the following proclamation to read to the U.S. official in my district: 

Q. What is your name? A SARSFIELD YOUNG.  What is yours?