We notice, with much agitation and a reasonable amount of grief, that somebody in Philadelphia (possibly Miss ANNA DICKINSON) has invented a machine for the laundry called The King Washer!  A few years ago it would have been The Queen Washer; but in these days the name seems to indicate that to Man, unhappy Man, will speedily be committed the destinies of the weekly washing.  Oh! the rubbing, the rinsing, the wringing.  But Mr. PUNCHINELLO has already communicated to Mrs. PUNCHINELLO his sentiments upon this subject.  Under no circumstances will he get at the family linen.  He must make a stand somewhere, and he makes it here.

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Let them Bark.

Miss BARKALOW has been admitted to practice at the bar in St. Louis.  We have frequently before seen young ladies at a bar, where others practiced more than they did; but we do not see why, if Miss BARKALOW wishes to bark aloud, she should not be allowed to bark, aloud or otherwise.  Barking may be particularly good in a cross-examination; but we presume that a lady attorney’s bark will be always worse than her bite.

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“She Stoops to Conquer.”

The girl with the Grecian Bend.

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Query.

Is it allowable for a Temperance man to be Cordial to his friends?

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Weak as Water.

Our cynical friend A. QUARIUS writes us from Philadelphia, that considering the manner in which the Sunday liquor law is enforced in that city, he thinks his native place is still entitled—­perhaps more than ever entitled to be called the city of Rye-tangles.  This is ungrateful.

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SPIRITUAL SUSCEPTIBILITY OF CATS.

DEAR PUNCHINELLO:  Our Society has been very learnedly debating as to whether Cats are susceptible of spiritual impressions; and, although the burden of opinion inclines to the negative of the question, I am firmly persuaded there is much to justify a contrary judgment.

As I slept the other night, neither dreaming nor holding psychological intercourse of any description with outsiders, I was awakened suddenly about the first hour of the morning by a noise.  I am quite certain it was a noise, and have therefore no hesitation in so recording it.  The new moon hung athwart the western sky, and a few fleecy clouds were chasing each other like snow-drifts across the blue vault of the night.  I may likewise note the fact that the stars were doing what they usually do, notwithstanding the difference of opinion that sometimes exists as to what that is.  It was the evening after “wash-day,” and family linen, in graceful curves and undulating outlines, everywhere met the eye as it turned from contemplating the stars to contemplating the clothes-lines in the gardens.  But I wander.  The noise?  Ah! yes.  Well, it was not like the collision