But, to be more off-handed in this generous undertaking, and in consideration of the deep-felt sensibility and hospitality which must always protect southern character, the chances will be restricted to two hundred, at five dollars per chance.  Money must be paid in before friends can consider themselves stock-holders.  It is to be a happy time, in a happy country, where all are boasted happy.  The first lucky dog will get the human prize; the next lucky dog will get the pony; the third will make a dog of himself by only winning a dog.  The fun of the thing, however, will be the great attraction; men of steady habits are reminded of this.  Older gentlemen, having very nice taste for colour, but no particular scruples about religion, and who seldom think morals worth much to niggers, “because they aint got sense to appreciate such things,” are expected to be on hand.  Those who know bright and fair niggers were never made for anything under the sun but to gratify their own desires, are expected to spread the good news, to set the young aristocracy of the city all agog,—­to start up a first-best crowd,—­have some tall drinking and first-rate amusement.  Everybody is expected to tell his friend, and his friend is expected to help the generous man out with his generous scheme, and all are expected to join in the “bender.”  Nobody must forget that the whole thing is to come off at “Your House,"-an eating and drinking saloon, of great capacity, kept by the very distinguished man, Mr. O’Brodereque.

Mr. O’Brodereque, who always pledges his word upon the honour of a southern gentleman-frequently asserting his greatness in the political world, and wondering who could account for his not finding his way into Congress, where talent like his would be brought out for the protection of our south-has made no end of money by selling a monstrous deal of very bad liquor to customers of all grades,—­niggers excepted.  And, although his hair is well mixed with the grey of many years, he declares the guilt of selling liquor to niggers is not on his shoulders.  It is owing to this clean state of his character, that he has been able to maintain his aristocratic position.  “Yes, indeed,” said one of his patrons, who, having fallen in arrears, found himself undergoing the very disagreeable process of being politely kicked into the street, “money makes a man big in the south:  big in niggers, big in politics, big with everything but the way I’m big,—­with an empty pocket.  I don’t care, though; he’s going up by the process that I’m coming down.  There’s philosophy in that.”  It could not be denied that Mr. O’Brodereque-commonly called General O’Brodereque-was very much looked up to by great people and Bacchanalians,—­men who pay court to appease the wondrous discontent of the belly, to the total neglect of the back.  Not a few swore, by all their importance, a greater man never lived.  He is, indeed, all that can be desired to please the simple pretensions of a free-thinking