BURKE’S HERALDRY.

Our amiable friend and classical correspondent, Deaf Burke—­“mind, yes”—­has lately mounted a coat-of-arms, “Dexter and Sinister;” a Nose gules and Eye sable; three annulets of Ropes in chief, supported by two Prize-fighters proper.  Motto,—­

[Illustration:  KNOCK AND RING.]

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A SUGGESTION

For the formation of a Society for the relief of foreigners afflicted with a short pocket and a long beard.

Mr. Muntz to be immediately waited upon by a body of the unhappy sufferers, and requested to give his countenance and assistance to the establishment of an INSTITUTION FOR THE GRATUITOUS SHAVING OF DESTITUTE AND HIRSUTE FOREIGNERS.

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THE GOLD SNUFF-BOX.

[Illustration:  M]My aunt, Mrs. Cheeseman, is the very reverse of her husband.  He is a plain, honest creature, such as we read of in full-length descriptions by some folks, but equally comprehensive, though shortly done by others, under the simple name of John Bull—­as ungarnished in his dress, as in his speech and action; whereas Mrs. Cheeseman, as I have just told you, is the counterpart of plainness; she has trinkets out of number, brooches, backed with every kind of hair, from “the flaxen-headed cow-boy” to the deep-toned “Jim Crow.”  Then her rings—­they are the surprise of her staring acquaintances; she has them from the most delicate Oriental fabric to the massiveness of dog’s collars.

Uncle Cheeseman says Mrs. C. thinks of nothing else; no sporting gentleman, handsomely furnished, in the golden days of pugilism, ever looked upon a ring with more delightful emotions.  At going to bed, she bestows the same affectionate gaze upon them that mothers do upon their slumbering progeny; nor is that care and affection diminished in the morning:  her very imagination is a ring, seeing that it has neither beginning nor end—­her tender ideas are encircled by the four magical letters R—­I—­N—­G.  Even at church, we are told, she divides her time between sleeping and secret polishing.  It has just occurred to me, that I might have saved you and myself much trouble had I at once told you that aunt Cheeseman is a regular Ring-worm.

But, to my uncle—­the only finery sported by him (and I hardly think it deserving that word), besides a silver watch, sound and true as the owner, and the very prototype of his bulk and serenity, was a gold snuff-box, a large and handsome one, which he did not esteem for its intrinsic weight; he had a “lusty pride” in showing that it was a prize gained in some skilful agricultural contest.  I am sorry at not recollecting what was engraven on it; but being a thorough Cockney, and knowing nothing more of the plough and harrow than that I have somewhere observed it as a tavern sign, must plead for my ignorance in out-o’-town matters.