about something or other that was going to happen somewhere about that date, and then of course it came into my head that I had passed mine over without observing the feast. Pot said in a letter he wrote to me, that he hoped my birthday might be the day on which I should hear of some good job, or do something which should turn out to be a stroke of good fortune. Curiously enough, it was on the nineteenth that I learned that a good opening had occurred for Henry, and that if I liked to take a rather rough fanning job, I could get myself stuck likewise. That part of the offer I did not accept, and I think by what has since happened, that my refusal was judgematical. Moreover, the very next day I heard of a more congenial matter in the hammer-and-tongs department of my august profession. A village blacksmith, a horny-handed son of toil, generously offered to feed and lodge me for as long as I liked to stop, in return for my services in his forge. The offer was the more magnanimous in that he was not in any particular need of assistance, but was willing to stretch a point (a proceeding that would stump Professor Euclid, by the way,) considering that I was in particular need of a job. No doubt, like all Yankees, he had an eye on the dollars' question, and argued, with most praiseworthy perception, that being an engineer and one who by his own representation had seen a good deal of forge work, I might prove a very lucrative spec. But then he promised that if he found that through my agency the money came in faster than it did before, he would give me my fair share of the profits so accruing. So I says to him says I, "See here, stranger, if I don't get into a hole between now and this day fortnight, you'll see me again. So leave the door open, will you?" He promised to do just that; and, in fact, he said that I could come and start right away whenever I pleased. So if this present exalted position of mine should fail me--for, as I said before, it may only be a temporary affair--why, slick I shall go away down to my particular friend the village blacksmith. Well, I must wind up; it's getting late. If ever you should be goaded by an uneasy conscience into writing me another letter, just let me know what is going on "on the banks of the coaly Tyne." Who is anybody, and where is he, etc. How is Bill Hawes, and give him my love for himself and family. Remember me especially to M. Moorshead, Esq. Tell him he missed a treat when I went away without standing him a drink; it was the bitter(less)est! day of his life. Is Edison still at the redoubtable No. 14? Reach your toe out and kick him if he is, and tell him I don't love him. By-the-bye, how's the canoe getting on? Is it finished? Has anybody been drowned? If so, how many? And did I owe them anything? There's no chance of its being the other way on. If you see any of the old club fellows knocking about, tell them they can expect a lock of my hair on receipt of P.O.O. for one dollar.