Madam X. was busy the other morning.  Miss Fanny Z. ’just ran in to
    see her’ en amie, without visiting-cards.

    The waiter carried her name to Madam X. Meanwhile Miss Fannie,
    circulating through the parlors, saw that there was dust on the
    lower shelf of an etagere, so she delicately traced the letters

    Smut

    thereon and therefore.  Waiter enters, and regrets that Madam X. is
    so very much engaged that she is invisible.  Miss Fanny flies home.

In the evening she meets Madam X., who is ‘perfectly enchanted’ to see her.  ’Ah, Fanny, dear, I am charmed to see you; the waiter forgot your name this morning, but I was delighted to see your ingenuity.  Would you believe it, the first thing I saw on entering the parlor was your card on the etagere!’

* * * * *

The Naugatuck railroad, according to a friend of the CONTINENTAL,

Is in many places cut through a rugged country, and the rocks thereabout have an ugly trick of rolling down upon the track when they get tired of lying still.  So the company employ sentinels who traverse the dangerous territory before the morning train goes through.  One of these,—­Pat K. by name,—­while on his beat, met Dennis, whose hand he had last shaken on the ‘Green Isle.’  After mutual inquiries and congratulations, says Dennis, ’What are you doin’ these days, Pat?’ ’Oh, I’m consarned in this railroad company.  I go up the road fur the likes o’ four miles ivry mornin’ to see is there ony rocks on the thrack.’  ‘And if there is?’ ’Why, I stops the trains, sure.’  ‘Faith,’ said Dennis, ’what the divil’s the good o’ that—­wouldn’t the rocks stop ’em?’

* * * * *

The Hibernian idea of a meeting is, we should judge, peculiar, and not, as a rule, amicable.  ‘What are ye doing here, Pat?’ inquired one of the Green Islanders who found a friend one morning in a lonely spot.  ’Troth, Dinnis, and it’s waiting to mate a gintleman here I’m doing.’  ’Waiting for a frind is it?’ replied Dennis; ‘but where is yer shillaly thin?’ This was indeed a misapprehension, and of the kind which, as a benevolent clergyman complained, who was actively engaged in home mission work, was one of the most constant sources of his frequent annoyances.  ‘Why,’ he remarked, ’it was only the other morning that I heard of a poor girl who was dying near the Five Points, and went to administer to her such comfort as it might be in my power to render.  I met an impudent miss leaving the room, who, when I inquired for the sufferer by name, replied, “It’s no use; you’re too late, old fellow,—­she’s give me her pocket-book and all her things."’

* * * * *

A friend has called our attention to the following extract from an advertisement in a New York evening paper, and requests an explanation:—­