* * * * *

[Illustration:  “ENGLISH GRAMMAR INCLUDED.”

1st Young Gentleman.  “I TELL YOU WHAT, IT’S AWFUL HARD TO GET ANYTHING TO DO, JUST NOW.”

2d ditto.  “THAT’S SO.  I SEEN AN ADVERTISEMENT YESTERDAY FOR A TUTOR IN A FAMILY, AND I’VE JUST BIN AND WROTE AN ANSWER.”]

* * * * *

THE QUEUE-RIOUS FUTURE.

Of all the queues which any man or any nation ever gave to another, the Chinese have supplied us with the most queue-rious.  The arrived man from that celestial part of the world, who is now so industriously engaged washing for us in New Jersey, and again, making our shoes in Massachusetts, and who proposes to be our dairymaid, our chambermaid, our barmaid, and, if BARNUM will go into the humbug business again, our mermaid, brought the queue on the back of his head when he crossed the Pacific Ocean, and landed on the coast of California.  Thence he conveyed it across the Plains, and now our mothers are going back to two queues such as those they wore when the roses which bloomed upon their cheeks were not produced by rouge, and to comprehend the lessons in the school-books which they carried was the severest trial which they knew, except, indeed, the restrained desire to get married.  And our fathers will wear one tail, as did their ancestors, who curled those appendages gracefully around the limbs of the trees while they played base-ball with cocoanuts, or visited in that nimble manner in which none other than monkeys are capable of moving about.  Our great American agriculturist, too, who has ploughed so deeply in the Tribune office, is going to look like a Chinese; and she, who has given us our Caudle lectures now for many years past, will exhibit ANNA DICKINSON as a convert to two tails.  Next, he who serves up for us our religion every once a week in the form of sanctimonious speeches on the subject of political economy, will let his congregation go behind Plymouth Pulpit for the purpose of getting their queues for the next Sunday love-feast by observing his.  The “long” and the “short” of the new vanity, however, will be found in fullest perfection among the bully-bears in Wall street, who, of all other honest men, are best able to teach the rising generation the significance of “heads I win, tails you lose.”  Then, again, in the far future perhaps some industrious antiquary will exhume an awful tail of the present generation that was invented by Mrs. H.B.  STOWE, when she looked across the Atlantic Ocean, and interviewed the ghost of BYRON.  The future is going to be glorious and queue-rious for all who wish to up-braid, and when our fathers pass us, and we see their heads, we will be convinced that thereby hangs a tail; also, when our mothers’ heads go by, that thereby hang two tails.

* * * * *

AN ODE-IOUS SUGGESTION.