Enter Merchant Prince. “Here’s an analysis of the iron ore.  I told them all about it.  We tradesmen are great, but we will sometimes help even a wretched aristocrat.”

Slangy Daughter. “Here’s an analysis of the iron ore.  Now I will marry my noble Merchant, and make him rich again; for there’s dead loads of iron on the Governor’s land, you bet!”

They all produce analyses of the ore, and the play itself being o’er, the curtain falls.

Exasperated critic, who has sent for twelve seats, and has been politely refused. “I’d like to abuse it, if there was a chance; but there isn’t.  The play is really good, and I can’t find much fault with the acting.  However, I’ll pitch into STODDARD for swearing, which his ‘Unprincipled Neighbor’ does to an unnecessary extent, and I’ll say that JIM WALLACK is too old and gouty to play the ‘Merchant Prince,’ and doesn’t quite forget that he used to play in the Bowery.”

Every body else. “Did you ever see a play better acted?  And did you ever see actresses better dressed?”

And PUNCHINELLO is constrained to answer the latter question with an emphatic No!  As to the acting, it might be improved were Mr. STODDARD to play the character for which he is cast, instead of insisting upon playing nothing but STODDARD.  But to all the rest of the actors, not forgetting Mr. RINGGOLD, who plays the insignificant part of the “Innocuous Youth,” PUNCHINELLO is pleased to accord his gracious approval.

MATADOR.

* * * * *

A Balmy Idea.

According to Miss ANTHONY, the crying evil with women is that they will blubber; but it must be remembered that out of this blubber they make oil to pour into our conjugal wounds.

* * * * *

A Suit for Damages.

Any clothes in a storm.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  THE POLITICAL MILL-ENNIUM.]

* * * * *

HINTS UPON HIGH ART.

Observant visitors to the National Academy of Design will allow that a tendency to greatness is beginning to develop itself in certain directions among our artists.  In landscape some of them are almost immense.  The works of PORPHYRO warm the walls with rays of splendor, or cool the lampooned sight-line with pearly gradations, as the case may be.  MANDRAKE renders feelingly the summer uplands and groves, and SILVERBARK the melancholy autumnal woods.  BYTHESEA infuses with sentiment even the blue wreaths of smoke that curl up from the distant ridge against which loom the concentrated lovers that he selects for his idyllic romances.  Gushingly he does his work, but thoroughly; and there are other flowers than lackadaisies to be discerned in his herbage.  GUSTIBUS blows gently the foliage aside, and gives us glimpses through it of rural contentment in connection with a mill,