Pecuniosity.—­“To him that hath shall be given.”  The candidate must beg, borrow, or steal something to begin with.  He must possess a power of bleeding equal to that of twenty-four country doctors.

MR. PUNCHINELLO has here given a skeleton sketch of his great work upon politics.  The reader had better make the most of it; for the Great Book will not be published until after the author’s death, which he doesn’t think (if he knows himself) is likely to happen tomorrow.  And so he closes with a brief exhortation:  Go on, worthy gentlemen!  Continue to spend, drink, war, falsify, for the good of your country!  Are you a Voter?  Show yourself to be such indeed, by voting all day, all the time, and at all the polling-places!  Are you a Candidate?  Show yourself to be a good one by keeping your mouth shut (except for drinking) and your pocket open!  Are you an Editor?  Ah!  Mr. P. has nothing to say to you.  Mr. P. is an Editor too!  We understand each other, worthy brother!  We know where the world keeps its cakes and ale!

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CAPITAL REMOVAL.

MR. PUNCHINELLO having been invited to attend and address the Capital Removal Convention (so called) held in Cincinnati, wrote a letter declining to be present, upon the ground that he was exceedingly comfortable where he was.  However, he added his views at great length, but the ingrates did not even read his letter.  In this he advocated the removal of the Capitol to some point so distant that twenty-three months of an Honorable Member’s term of twenty-four months would be spent in going and returning.  At the same time Mr. P. suggested the abolition of the salaries of the Members; and the passage of an act making it a forgery for any member to print in The Globe a never-uttered speech.  But, alas for the wisdom of age! he doesn’t see that the Convention acted on any of these suggestions.

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SMALL POTATOES.—­The “Murphy” Radicals.

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[Illustration:  VERY APPROPRIATE.

Young Man.  “HELLO!  MRS. CRUMBLETY, WHAT ARE YER DOIN’ ALONG ER THAT NEWFOUDLING DORG?”

Mrs. C. “WELL, HE STRAYED INTO OUR HOUSE LAST NIGHT AND AS HE DIDN’T SEEM TO HAVE NO MASTER, I THOUGHT I’D JEST TAKE HIM ROUND TO THIS HERE NEW FOUNDLING HOSPITAL.”]

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SARSFIELD YOUNG’S REMINISCENCES OF CHARLES DICKENS.

It is surprising that since Mr. DICKEN’S decease no one should have conceived the idea of writing a sketch of that illustrious author.  It is perhaps too much to require that some competent person prepare his biography, but the public have a right to expect at least a few reminiscences.  I am persuaded to sketch the following imperfect outlines only from a conviction that the great novelist has in this respect been neglected.  I trust I shall not be deemed to have broken the seal of private confidence in this disclosing how well I knew him, and (what is still more remarkable) how well he knew me:—­