In conclusion, it may be remarked that immense herds of seals cover the coasts of Alaska.  It is nevertheless difficult to catch a glimpse of them, on account of the enormous flocks of humming birds, which darken the air in that genial clime.  Occasionally, however, the Arctic zephyrs disperse the feathery cloud, and then vast numbers of the timid creatures, with a sprinkling of the Walrus, may be seen by looking in a Se(a)ward direction.

* * * * *

A LITTLE ACKNOWLEDGMENT.

The Free (and Easy) Press has honored PUNCHINELLO with a brief as well as premature obituary paragraph.  Flattered as he is by being thus noticed in the columns of a journal of the long standing and well sustained popularity of the Free (and Easy) Press, it pains PUNCHINELLO to be obliged to state that he still lives, and that he is not only alive, but kicking.  That he has come to an end, is true—­but it is to the end of his First Volume, as the F. (and E.) Press can see by turning to the admirably written, dashing, humorous, and absolutely unsurpassable Index appended to our present number, which Index PUNCHINELLO cordially recommends to the perusal of the F. (and E.) Press.  The Preface to his Second Volume, however, which is now in preparation, will, PUNCHINELLO confidently assures the F. (and E.) Press, be altogether superior to the Index to his First.  Let the F. (and E.) Press look out for it.  But, meanwhile, the F. (and E.) Press can cheer itself by frequent contemplation of the entertaining personage who serves as tail-piece to the Index, and whose gesture is of that familiar and suggestive kind that will doubtless be thoroughly understood by the F. (and E.) Press, and, as PUNCHINELLO hopes, fully appreciated.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  “HUMPTY DUMPTY SAT ON THE WALL, HUMPTY DUMPTY HAD A GREAT FALL.”

AND IT HE HAD FALLEN AMONG THE PRUSSIANS, ONLY, IT MIGHTN’T HAVE BEEN SO BAD FOR HIM; BUT, AS HE ALSO FELL UPON FRENCH BAYONETS, IT IS QUITE CERTAIN THAT HE CAN NEVER GET UP AGAIN.]

* * * * *

HIRAM GREEN IN WALL STREET.

His Celebrated Speech before the Board or Brokers.—­A few Words of Sound
Advice from the Squire.

Doorin’ a breef sojern in the Emperor City, a deputation of Wall Street brokers and smashers called and invited me to make a speech afore the members of their church, whose Sin-agog is situated in Brod Street.

Thinks I, if I can make these infatuated worshippers of the Golden Calf, Mammon, see the error of their ways and take a back track, me thunk my chances for the White House would be full as flatterin’ as Sisters WOODHUL, GEORGIANA FRANCIS TRAIN, or any other woman, in ’72.

Layin’ off my duster, and adjustin’ my specturcals, at the appinted hour, I slung the follerin’ extemperaneous remarks at ’em: