I expect they will pleasantly call me Duke Hudson, and my son the Prince of Staten Island.  No matter.  I can always face the Inevitable.

And that reminds me of the late war, in which the Inevitable that I was always being called upon to face, was the Inevitable Prussian.  But I have faced much more terrible things.  In your very city of Hoboken, I have stood face to face with a German creditor!  Will any one henceforth doubt my fortitude?

I have one rather comforting reflection, apropos to that rencontre. I have taken care to arm myself against future assaults of that nature.  I am Gold-Plated.

If your highly-gifted corps of artists should wish to depict me in a connection which would satisfy my sense of honor, let them make a sketch entitled:  “The Two Exiles,”—­one of whom may be,my Uncle at St. Helena; the other, me, at Weehawken, with my family near, a glass of wine at my side, a cigarette in one hand, and a copy of PUNCHINELLO in the other!

But let me not anticipate.  Sufficient unto the day is the (d)evil thereof.

Royally yours,

L. N.

* * * * *

Maxim for the next new President.

“A place for everybody, and everybody in his place.”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  ON COLOR.

Cousin Bella, (admiring picture.) “HOW IS IT, FRED, THAT YOU PRODUCE SUCH LOVELY COLOR, AND WITH SO MUCH FACILITY?”

Fred, (thinking of his meerschaum.) “I DON’T TELL EVERYBODY THAT, YOU INQUISITIVE TEASE, BUT FACT IS, I PUT THE STUMP OF AN OLD PAINT-BRUSH IN THE BOWL, AND SMOKE THE OILIEST TOBACCO I CAN FIND.”]

* * * * *

THE BATTLE AT SEDAN.

Special Correspondence of Punchinello.

(This paper is the only paper on the planet which has a correspondent at the seat of war, wherever that seat may be.  The following dispatch was sent to us by cable at a total expense of $21,000.)

It was a still, calm night, the glorious moon was sailing through the sky; the river was running water; the clouds were cloudy; the soldiers were soldiering.  I stepped out of my tent and tumbled over VON MOLTKE.  He took my arm and invited me to the tent of the Crown Prince.

“MOLTY,” said I, “what’s your little game?”

“Penny ante,” replied he.

“Tres bien,” added I.

“You are a French spy.  Ha! ha!” said he, grasping my collar.  “Ho!  Ho!”

“Das ish goot,” added I.

“Then you’re Dutch,” sighed he, dropping me like a hot pair of tongs.

In the tent we found the King, the Crown Prince, Gen. STEINMETZ, Gen. SHERIDAN, and Gen. FORSYTH.

“MOLTY,” said I, “introduce me to the King.”

“BILL,” said he, “this is JENKINS.”

BILL held out his foot and I took a suck at his great toe.